He blogs about his flight to the Jewish bloggers conference in Jerusalem tomorrow:
FADE IN:
INT. VIRGIN AMERICA PLANE – NIGHT
“So what do you?”
I’m on my L.A. to N.Y. flight and I’ve been pecking away at my computer working on a script. There’s a young woman sitting next to me, and she’s so obviously an actress I feel embarrassed labeling her so quickly. But hey, twenty-five years in Hollywood and you kinda recognize the profile.
I go: “I’m a screenwriter.”
“Yeah, what are your credits? Anything big?”
This is the part I really hate. Everyone—from taxi drivers to your local plumber—feels they have a G-d given right to your credits.
So I have this neat comeback: “You first.”
A real conversation stopper.
She fixes me with her baby blues and decides I’m a hostile screenwriter. I’m not, I just don’t want to hear about her journey from Kansas to Hollywood and how haaaard it is breaking in and by the way, is there a part for her in my next film.
Anyway, she jams in her i-Pod buds and grooves away.
I finish the scene, decide it stinks, and delete it.
Pop Ambien.
FADE TO BLACK.
