Giving Up.

No, not on the novel. The novel is rolling on through production just fine, so far as I know. I mean giving up on screenwriting. Quitting has always rattled around in the back of my mind. I'm certainly not achieving any kind of success. It was put to me this morning that the soundest decision I could make next year is packing up my apartment here in L.A. and moving home to Hawaii. A very good idea. I have a house there and staying here is something like pouring money down the drain.

I had so many dreams when I rented this place. I spent a lot of money (and a lot of my parents' money) getting a Master's degree in screenwriting at UCLA. And I spent eight years chasing this lunatic dream. Eight years. I'm ashamed of the waste and the failure and how stupid I've been. And I'm sad. Ah, well. I knew the day would come.

All's well that ends.

Writing Blather

I've decided that, from time to time, I'll run off at the mouth on the subject of writing. Heck, the only person reading this is my mother, and she doesn't mind.

Writers are funny people. But people who want to be writers are often really, really weird. Here's the strangest thing I've observed about them: some of them don't read. Yes, it is true. I know it's hard to believe. I've gone to conferences, met Writer X who is working on a mystery, and discovered that Writer X can't name a mystery writer other than him or herself. Kooky talk.

Here's where it really gets toxic: the erstwhile writer who hasn't read much since college. This is where you get novels replete with "reporter" characters, relating the actions of the main (interesting) characters. This worked for Pushkin and Balzac. Heck, it worked for Fitzgerald. You can stop now. Go out and buy some contemporary literature. Go read some Palahniuk, some Chabon, some Lethem, some Safran-Foer, some Steven Hall. See what's working for agents, editors, and readers today.

College professors just can't buy that many books.