Friday, December 07, 2007


I started working with a writing partner about a month ago, my oldest friend, Dave Weems.

I met Dave on the playground of Flynn Park Elementary School back in St. Louis in the fall of 1970. I was heading into my kindergarten class, he was an old creepy man cruising the playground.

No, he was also walking into class.

Best friends all the way through high school until I got kicked out and then we roomed together the first two years at Oberlin. Dave put himself through law school here in New York, works in midtown for some big firm. But he's been whacking away at screenplays the whole time. He bluffed his way into a meeting with a major player a month ago, called me up and said,

Dude, you have to help me finish this thing. This guy wants to see the script and its got to be polished and sharp and done.

So I put on my writing scrubs and we've got a screenplay. And we're jamming on a TV show and another treatment.

The beautiful thing is, I don't really care about movies or TV shows. I write plays. But I'm finding that it's really fun to pitch TV shows and movies because it allows me to tell stories, something I'm not that interested in doing on stage. But who doesn't love a good story?

And because we've known each other forever, we work fast and don't have to be polite with each other.

That's bullshit.


You meant to say blah blah...

Really fucking fun. And if we sell one of these things, that's like selling forty-three plays. I'm moving to Monaco. Scrappy Jack on the beach, sipping a Mojito, counting my money.

O yes. Believe it.

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