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~ Mental Origami ~ I know, I know... This doesn't really count as writing.

Julie



Last Updated: 5/28/2009

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Gender: Female
Status: Married
Sign: Capricorn

State: Georgia
Country: US
Signup Date: 6/8/2005

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Monday, March 03, 2008 

A couple weeks ago, I went to LA. I've been dying to get back there since my last trip in '05. (I know it's a little strange that I signed with Way-Cool Manager in '06 and had a movie made in '07 without a visit to LA, but Bizarro World is my natural habitat).

This time, I flew out for a meeting relative to my lawsuit but decided to stay a couple extra days and make the trip productive.

Here's something I noticed: Hollywood feels different when you're part of it than when you're merely visiting. After I picked up the rental car, I headed toward the hills and got my first post-production glimpse of the Hollywood sign -- and couldn't help grinning like the dork I'll always be.

Spent my first night, Saturday, in Pasadena at a close friend's place. Coming from Florida -- which has the topographic relief of plywood -- I loved Pasadena and the mountains all around. Met some friends out that night at NeoMeze, a funky restaurant in Old Town, and made merry 'til the time difference (and lingering laryngitis) caught up with me.

Sunday morning, I drove back to LA and met an exec-friend for brunch at La Conversation in Beverly Hills (I recommend the French Toast). Snagged a nice little table on the sidewalk beside a couple of older guys discussing a script. I didn't recognize their faces, but I bet I'd recognize their names. Anyway, I hadn't seen this exec-friend since we were children (our moms are best friends) so it was fun getting to know her a bit and catching up on our lives.

Afterward, I tooled over to the less-glamorous side of town to check into the hotel I'd call home for the next few nights. There, I discovered my room got no cell reception and no internet and I had a brief hyperventilish 28 DAYS LATER moment.

Ran back down to the lobby to make contact with the outside world, then picked up
Greg and went to Doughboys. I enjoyed a gallon-mug of latte and some good conversation and discovered he's really not so Grumpy. (Sorry to out you, G.)

Quick wardrobe change, then up to Studio City to do dinner with 2.5 cousins. They took me to Genghis Cohen, which is the best name for a Chinese restaurant, ever (and is, in fact, not in Studio City, but just a few minutes from my freaking hotel). The food and atmosphere were terrific -– plus, my cousin's husband pointed out Mary J. Blige at the table behind us, and their adorable 18 month-old son ran smack into Elle Fanning outside the restroom. I loved the place.

But now I was running late to my own damn party. On my girlfriend's recommendation, I'd invited a bunch of friends to Three of Clubs on N. Vine. Driving down from Studio City in the dark I couldn't find Vine. Then I couldn't find the address. Then I couldn't find the damn entrance to the joint. About two hours late, I finally found my way into the pitch-dark bar. Some voices called out to me, "Norm"-like, when I entered, but it was a few minutes before my eyes adjusted enough to make out who-all I was hugging. Fun little bar, great time with great friends. Or whoever those people were.

Driving back to my hotel in the dark… bright lights of Hollywood all around… that dorky grin again…

We'll skip Monday, which was an all-day meeting, the reason for my trip, and largely uneventful. (Perhaps, one day, I'll share the "eventful" bits…) I will say, though, that my litigation attorney is brilliant and if y'all are ever involved in a lawsuit, you should be so lucky as to have him in your corner.

Monday night the laryngitis threatened a relapse, but a girl's gotta eat. A delightful pro-writer-dude I've known online for a while met me at trés cool Sushi Roku in Hollywood. The food was delicious –- I'm sure my chopsticks were a blur -- and I chugged buckets of hot green tea, miso soup and wee cups of sake and somehow held onto my voice, which I needed for…

…Tuesday -- and my morning meeting with the Incredibly Cool & Smart Producer Who's Nevertheless a Fan of My Work at a Starbucks in Beverly Hills. Not one to shun tradition, I got lost and wound up an unfashionable 20 minutes late. Luckily, she didn't hold it against me, Gomer From Out of Town that I am. We got to know each other and swapped life stories and gossip for a while. Then she proceeded to give me in-depth and dead-on notes on THE MIDDLE AGES –- verbally, off-the-cuff, with nothing in hand but her iced coffee. And she told me not to worry about writing any of it down, she'd email it to me later (which she did: six pages' worth of insight all geared toward helping me fulfill the promise of my premise). When I learn to chisel busts out of marble, I am so doing hers first.

From there, I had to rush off to meet my transactional attorney for lunch. We've spoken on the phone hundreds of times since he negotiated my POOL BOY option, but this was the first we'd met. I was enjoying the bird's-eye view of Beverly Hills from his lobby, when he came out and greeted me with a big hug. Good thing, too, 'cause I had one for him that was long overdue. We'd planned a little party, but my Way-Cool Manager was home with the flu and my litigation attorney was fluish, too, so it was just the two of us at Mr. Chow. The fact that I'd heard of the restaurant should've tipped me off to its hot-spotness, but I was enjoying the company and the food so much, I almost missed seeing Keenan Ivory Wayans and Kevin Sorbo. (Not together -– let's not start any rumors…) I'm not a neck-craning celebrity-watcher, so I can't tell you who else was there that didn't happen to walk in front of me.

After lunch, I headed off to my Way-Cool Manager's office to meet his Equally-Cool Partners. One of the partners -- I'll call her Hot & Smart Chick Manager -- I've spoken with on the phone a few times and gotten some kick-ass notes from, and I was especially looking forward to meeting her. She was just as smart and hot in person and we talked all over the industry and the town and my work and my career and before I knew it, I'd overstayed my parking meter by like 30 minutes.

Brett had told me he'd gotten a $47 parking ticket in LA, so I expected the envelope on the windshield. Didn't expect the ticket to be $140, though. (Apparently, they don't like you to park along Wilshire after 4pm. Now you know.) And to think, I'd parked at the meter 'cause I wanted to avoid paying $12 for parking...

By now, it was nearly 5pm and I was freaking exhausted and losing my voice again. I dragged myself into Rite Aid, bought some lozenges and a crappy nukable dinner and ate them in my room. (The room didn't have cell or internet access, but it did have a functional microwave.) I was in bed by 7pm, watched two hours of Idol boys, then conked out -- ready to step off the Hollywood treadmill and get back home to my own personal chaos.

Reliving the trip through this post, I've noticed a few things:

~I ate my way across Los Angeles. Lucky for me, I have very little social life here at home, else I'd be a house.

~I know (all too well) that there are a lot of greedy assholes in Hollywood, but the gods of such things have smiled upon me and hooked me up with The Good Guys.

~If you want to see celebrities when you visit LA, go out for Chinese.

Monday, November 12, 2007 
A few of you have noticed my red t-shirt.

I live just outside of Orlando, Florida, far from the studios and the chanting picketers. Far from the anger and the energy and the unity of the strike.

Since January of this year, I've been a full-time screenwriter. I spent a couple weeks on the set of my movie, AMERICAN SUMMER, but aside from that, I spend my days at home, writing. My time has been focused (when my time has been focused) on a spec called THE MIDDLE AGES, that's made a fan of a producer (who has, likewise, made a fan of me).

If you've been following along at home, you know I recently had to file suit against the producers of my movie and that one of them, Seven Arts, then turned around and filed suit against my reps and me to the tune of ten meeellion dollars. (If you're curious about my thoughts on that, see my post of October 29th.)

The bullshit leading up to my lawsuit occupied a lot of headspace since I got home from set and, as a result, this draft of THE MIDDLE AGES is taking longer than it should've to finish. In an example of übershitty timing, the script is now, finally, approaching great. Just in time for my way-cool manager to send it nowhere.

And that fucking sucks, but I'll live. My hubby and daughters and I will continue to make ends meet until the strike ends and the market is ready for new specs.

Thing is, I'm acutely aware of all the people out of work due to the strike, people whose lives – unlike mine – are very different today than they were just a couple weeks ago: writers losing hard-earned feature deals or staff jobs; teamsters honoring our picket lines; television and film crews whose sets are now dark; showrunners abandoning baby shows before they've even had a chance to grow legs. Lots of out-of-work parents looking ahead to lean Hanukkahs and Christmases this year.

I ache knowing that the sacrifices these thousands of people are making will ultimately benefit me. Not just me, of course, but you get me, right?

I spent most of last week jumping around the internet (yeah, that new-fangled thing) soaking up every strike-related word, picture and video I could find. I joined every strike-oriented group I stumbled across and emailed articles and videos to everyone in my address book who isn't already reading every frigging blog in the scribosphere.

But that's all nothing. I want to DO something. I'm not DOING anything.

I've only just barely qualified for membership to the WGA, but my legal battle is kinda like a microcosm of the WGA / AMPTP war. Every picture or video I see of the picketers feels like they're marching for me. But I'm doing nothing for them and that kills me.

That being the case, one day last week, here in my little Florida town, I decided to wear my red shirt, even if no one I saw knew what it meant. And I figured, long as I had the red shirt on, I might as well take a picture and use it online where the people hang out who do know why I'm wearing it. Then I added the text about supporting the WGA, 'cause I know how forgetful people can be sometimes about stuff like that…

So, if you came for the shirt, that's cool, but don't forget the message, okay? 'Cause we "schmucks with Underwoods" work hard and deserve to be paid fairly for that work. And we're done getting jerked around by assholes with God complexes.

Wednesday, November 07, 2007 
In case you haven't seen this yet, Shawn Ryan, showrunner of The Shield, The Unit, and The Oaks and a member of the WGA Negotiating Committee sent the following note to fellow showrunners and TV writers earlier this week. It's inspirational as hell -- give it a read:

"As you all know by now, we are on Strike. It's sad that we have arrived here and I don't know each and every one of your opinions, but I wanted to share my personal plans for what I intend to do until we have a fair contract.

I am currently quoted in today's Hollywood Reporter as saying that I will do some producing work, but won't do any editing as I consider that to be writing. While I said something similar to that earlier last week (I've learned you can't trust a word of what these trades report), that was before I went to the Showrunners Meeting yesterday and became very crystalized in what I need to do. Like many of you I have spent the last week contemplating what to do in case of a strike. What are my responsibilities to my writers, my cast, my crew, my network and my contract? How do I balance these various concerns?

At the Showrunners Meeting it became very clear to me that the only thing I can do as a showrunner is to do nothing. I obviously will not write on my shows. But I also will not edit, I will not cast, I will not look at location photos, I will not get on the phone with the network and studio, I will not prep directors, I will not review mixes. These are all acts that are about the writing of the show or protecting the writing of the show, and as such, I will not participate in them. I will also not ask any of my writer/producers to do any of these things for me, so that they get done, but I can save face.

I will not go into the office and I will not do any work at home. I will be on the picket line or I will be working with the Negotiating Committee. I will not have an avid sent to my house, or to a new office so that I can do work on my show and act as if it is all right because I'm not crossing any picket lines.

I truly believe that the best and fastest way to a good contract is to hit these companies early, to hit them hard and to deprive them of ALL the work we do on their behalf.

How do we ask our staff writers to go out on strike as we continue collecting producer checks? How do we ask the Teamsters to respect our picket lines if we won't ourselves or if we're sneaking around to do the work off-site?

Just so you all know what I am prepared to give up....

Tomorrow, we begin to film the Series Finale of The Shield. I think it's the best script our writing staff has ever written. This is the show that made me. This is the show that is my baby. If the strike goes on longer than two weeks, I won't be able to step on set for the final episode of the show. I won't have a writer on set, as I have had on every episode since the fourth episode. I won't be able to edit this final culminating episode. I won't go to the wrap party that Fox TV and FX are paying for. You can't tell me that any episode of television is more important than this one is to me, and I am ready to forego all those things in order to strengthen my union.

Tomorrow, we begin filming a new pilot, The Oaks, that I am Executive Producing. It's an amazing script that David Schulner wrote and I signed up to help him make this show. Until we have a fair deal I cannot do that now and it kills me.

We are currently filming Season 3 of The Unit, a show that does fairly well, but against House and Dancing With The Stars, usually finishes in 3rd place. We have no guarantee that we will back for a 4th season. I just gave a director friend of mine his first TV directing gig. I'd like to see him succeed. He'll have to finish the show on his own now without a writer on set, or my help in the editing room.

Some people have made the argument that if they don't do this producing work or this editing, that someone else will do it, and this act won't hurt the companies. I respectfully disagree. If we ALL stop ALL work tomorrow, the impact of this strike will be felt much more quickly, much more acutely and it most likely will end sooner, putting our writers, our cast and our crews back to work sooner!

I spent nearly 12 hours today in the Negotiation Room with the companies. I watched our side desperately try to make a deal. We gave up our request to increase revenue on DVD's, something that was very painful to give up, but something we felt we had to in order to get a deal made in new media, which is our future.

I watched as the company's representatives treated us horrendously, disrespectfully, and then walked out on us at 9:30 and then lied to the trades, claiming we had broken off negotiations.

I can't in good conscience fight these bastards with one hand, while operating an avid with the other. I am on strike and I am not working for them. PERIOD.

You will use your own instincts and consciences to decide your own actions. But if you would like to follow in my footsteps (and those of many, many others who made this pledge at the showrunner's meating on Saturday), I encourage you to sign the trade ad that the WGA will be putting out on Tuesday by the dozens and dozens of showrunners who will simply not work at all beginning in the morning."

~ ~ ~
Me again. I hate not being there, carrying a sign -- it's a real, physical ache. I'm all the way across the country and don't know what to do, how to help.

To Shawn and everyone else out there walking and sacrificing, supporting the WGA, this "baby writer" thanks you.
Monday, November 05, 2007 

I hate where we are right now. I hate that it came to this.

Wish I were in LA or NYC so I could carry a sign. I'd carry this one:


Tuesday, October 30, 2007 
Saturday, October 20, 2007 

This really does suck.

Still processing the awesome time I had in
Austin. More on that when I'm no longer doped up on cold meds…

Wednesday, September 19, 2007 
Friday, September 14, 2007 
I first attended the Austin Film Festival and Screenwriters' Conference in 2003. That year, I made it to the finals of the pitch competition with my 60-second take on my POOL BOY spec, which was renamed AMERICAN SUMMER and shot earlier this year.

I've been back to AFF every year since, attended lots of great panels and parties and met some of my best friends in the world, as well as some mentors and some heroes (some of whom overlap).

Next month, I head back to AFF – as a panelist.

They're putting me to work three times. I'll be on one panel about breaking into the industry, which I'm really excited about; then a roundtable of writers, directors and producers just for high school kids, which should be a lot of fun; and the circle will fully close when I judge a session of the pitch competition.

We'll call that last part IRONY 1.

Here's IRONY 2: One of the judges of the pitch competition back in '03 – a guy who scored me low because he thought my pitch sounded too much like DEUCE BIGELOW – will be a panelist in the same roundtable session.

IRONY 3: So will the guy who wrote DEUCE BIGELOW.

The Universe is a silly place…

See y'all in Austin!
Thursday, August 02, 2007 
They got me. Specifically, Suz got me. Before I get to the really fascinating stuff, here's what the hell's going on:

Once you've been tagged, as I have, you must write a blog with ten weird, random things, little-known facts or habits about yourself. At the end, choose at least 5 people to be tagged, list their names and why you picked them. Don't forget to leave a comment that says "you've been tagged" and tell them to read your latest blog. (This should just about double my readership…)

And here we go…

Ten things you may not know about me:

1. I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder when I was 28. (That explained a lot.)

2. Until I was about 23, I was so shy, I couldn't project my voice loudly enough to order in a restaurant. I'd usually feign an excuse and ask whoever I was with to order for me.

3. During college, I worked briefly as a singing telegram. (Yeah, I'm aware that doesn't jibe with they "shy" thing. I'm an enigma that way.)

4. The first and only time I've gone white-water rafting was on the Class IV Pacuare River. I got sucked out of the raft halfway down the icy river, upside-down beneath the raft without a breath in my lungs. (Aside from that, it was awesome and I can't wait to do it again.)

5. I have very low blood pressure and pass out rather easily just from seeing or hearing something that makes me squeamish. I nearly blacked out from the "adrenaline shot" scene in PULP FICTION.

6. I believe in reincarnation and am a certified clinical hypnotherapist.

7. I hung out with Johnny Depp for a few days while working as an extra on "21 Jump Street.

7a. I gave Johnny a full-page article from the paper, including an interview with his dad saying how proud he was of Johnny. I almost didn't bring it, but was glad I did -- Johnny hadn't seen it yet and read the entire thing immediately.

7b. Between takes in a jungle scene, Johnny said he needed more sweat on his arms. The faux-sweat girl was nowhere in sight but had spritzed me pretty good before she disappeared. So, I wiped a bunch of the slippery stuff from my chest onto Johnny arms. (I used my hand as a go-between. I'm an idiot.)

7c. At the time, Johnny had recently gotten engaged to Winona Ryder, so, despite my schoolgirl crush on him, I respected that. (Years later, perhaps he remembers me as "that girl who didn't try to fuck him.")

8. One of the best times of my life was getting thrown from a galloping horse while on vacation in Costa Rica a few years ago. I flew over his head, dropped and rolled in the mud without breaking anything, and popped back up a second after his hoof whooshed past my head. When the guide brought the horse back to me, I got back on, 'cause that's what they say you gotta do. (Okay, the best time was actually the "getting back on" part. The dropping and rolling was kinda scary.)

9. I had my second daughter without any drugs. By choice. (It hurt.)

10. My last night in New Orleans for the AMERICAN SUMMER shoot, I went to sushi with Efren, the only cast member who wasn't working that night. He told me about a National Lampoon script he was considering and asked me to read it with him. He made me read most of the not-his characters and I felt like a total dork, but it was fascinating to watch him find his character as we read. At one point, he grabbed a black eye pencil and drew himself a Don Juanish moustache and small beard (do you call that little chin-triangle a beard?). That movie is RATKO: THE DICTATOR'S SON. It was a funny script and I bet it's even funnier when I'm not playing all the other parts.

I hereby tag:

Brett, out of spite
Shawna, 'cause she needs something else to occupy her mind
Grumpy, 'cause I hardly know him, but he seems cool
Jamie, 'cause he's endlessly fascinating and I miss him
Tori, 'cause she's one of the funniest people I know and most of you guys don't know her yet, but you really should and some of y'all will meet her if she makes good on her promise to go to AFF
Tuesday, July 10, 2007 
With the kids out of school for summer, the hours whoosh by me at warp speed and by the time I catch my breath, another day's gone. (My ADD brain, wired, apparently, by Dr. Seuss, requires more structure than this to get stuff done.)



Since my last post:

AMERICAN SUMMER wrapped and I'm, once again, out of the loop ("writer"). I've heard a couple rumors about release dates but nothing realistic enough to repeat. More on that when there's more on that.



As expected, I had a conference call with the producer who read THE MIDDLE AGES. It was the first we'd spoken but she's read all my stuff and seems to be a fan – in fact, she's the one who hooked me up with my way-cool manager. I like her a lot – and not just because she had a few very flattering comments on TMA and some kick-ass notes.

I've spent lots of time this past month letting those notes marinate, coming up with new beats to replace the ones I've excised ("excising" is so much bloodier and, somehow, more satisfying than merely "cutting"). The story's going to be much more streamlined, now – I'm yanking a fat thread the producer showed me I never really needed. I think I've almost got the outline ready to begin the next rewrite… but there's something missing. I feel that like an itch. I'm chomping at the bit to crank up Final Draft and get going but the sense of a missing link keeps holding me back. So annoying, 'cause it's right there, like a floating spot behind my eyelid, dodging all efforts to look directly at it…



I've been invited to be a panelist at the Austin Film Festival and Screenwriters' Conference this year. Even did my first Q&A which was fun.

If you haven't attended AFF before, here's some of what you missed in 2005 and in 2006.

Still not enough motivation to part with a month's worth of beer money? Here's a current list of some of the other panelists who'll be there this year:

Scott Alexander (writer 1408 - '07, Ed Wood, The People vs. Larry Flynt, Agent Cody Banks)
Greg Beal (Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences ®, Nicholl Fellowships Program Coordinator)
William Broyles Jr. (Flags of Our Fathers, Jarhead, The Polar Express, Cast Away, Apollo 13)
Curtis Burch (Latitude Productions)
Channing Dungey (ABC Studios fka Touchstone )
Dan French ("Dennis Miller", "The Late Late Show", "The Best Damn Sports Show Period")
Terry George (Reservation Road- '07, Hotel Rwanda, In The Name of the Father, My Left Foot)
James V. Hart (August Rush, The Last Mimzy, The Snow Goose, Sahara, Tuck Everlasting, Contact, Bram Stoker's Dracula, Hook)
Jon Hurwitz ( Harold and Kumar 2, Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle)
Chris Hyams (B-side Entertainment)
Aline Brosh McKenna (The Devil Wears Prada, Laws of Attraction, Three to Tango)
Duncan Montgomery (Montgomery Law/ Fireside Releasing)
Terry Rossio ( Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, Dead Man's chest, The Curse of the Black Pearl, Déjà vu, Shrek, The Mask of Zorro, Aladdin)
Eric Roth (writer Suspect, Forrest Gump, Ali, Munich, The Good Shepherd, Lucky You - '07, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - '07)
Thomas Schlamme (Studio 60, The West Wing, Jack and Bobby, Sports Night)
Hayden Schlossberg (Harold and Kumar 2, Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle)
Ed Solomon (writer/ director Levity, writer Tokyo Suckerpunch, Men in Black, co-writer Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure and currently co-writer of Nowhereland starring Eddie Murphy)
Christopher Vogler (Story Consultant, Producer, author The Writer's Journey)
Gary Walker (TEX FX)
Audrey Wells (writer/ director Under the Tuscan Sun)
Guinevere Turner (writer George of the Jungle, The Truth about Cats & Dogs)
Herschel Weingrod (Trading Places, Kindergarten Cop, Twins)
Larry Wilmore ("The Office", "The Bernie Mac Show", "The PJs", "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air", "In Living Color")
Bill Wittliff (The Perfect Storm, Legends of the Fall, Lonesome Dove, The Black Stallion)

I know a couple of these people and have heard most of the others in various panels over the years. If they're talking, you want to listen. AFF 2007 is October 11-14. Mark your calendars and get your passes.



Wondering what that WHOOMP… CRACK! was when you first popped in? That was Malfoy, almost six, body-slamming me without warning July 4th.

I thought for sure she'd cracked a rib or ruptured something – my usually-high pain threshold has been on Red since it happened. So, this morning, I finally took myself to the doc for x-rays and he said I'm no more cracked or broken than I ever was. Good and bad, that. Nothing left to do but eat some more Advil and get crackin' on my rewrite…