My New Sweet Haute Spot

American food with a healthier approach to southern classics is served up at Sweet Auburn Bistro. This charming little haute spot is located along Atlanta’s historic Auburn Avenue where history and culture meet. Executive Chef and Owner Glenn Law is the creator of the “new southern” cuisine infused with Caribbean flair offering flavorful food at affordable prices.

Once inside you’re transported to a modern day version of 1955 Atlanta where the smell of Georgia Shrimp and Cheese grits and double crust peach cobbler along with rhythmic beats fill the air. This cozy little gem offers a menu of dishes featuring exotic creations like the Sweet Auburn Chips made with black pot kettle fried potato chips, drizzled with melted blue cheese, red onions and scallions and Scallop Risotto prepared in Mediterranean fashion. You can also get soups, salads and 171 burgers while you dine with friends or alone for breakfast, lunch or dinner.

Casual conversation over Cabbage Town fried green tomatoes, Hotlanta wings or decadent desserts along with a selection from their extensive wine list makes this the place to be during Monday's live music night or any day of the week. WiFi is also available.

Sweet Auburn Bistro is open seven days a week. To learn more visit http://www.sweetauburnbistroatlanta.com/

Will you check out Sweet Auburn Bistro?

How I got close to the Academy Awards

I don't know if I'm getting older and the Academy awards getting less interesting, or it's just not as good as it used to be. I liked Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin, and don't give a damn about Miley Cyrus and those other kid actors who look all the same.  I think Miley might be the anti-Christ.


But I was once a heartbeat away from getting a nomination.

Yes, for the Academy Awards. The Oscars.

Back in 1975, when I moved to Vancouver to  join Phil Borsos in a film company we called Rocky Mountain Films,  a name we derived from the time we spent at the Banff School of Fine Arts in the heart of the Rockies.

It was a tiny company, Phil and me and two theater chairs and a table in a small corner office on Hornby Street in Vancouver. We hardly ever got work and had side jobs, Phil at the film lab and me at a local TV station, working evenings. We even had both names on one card as that's all we could afford.

Phil had always wanted to make a film on a cooperage, which is/was a barrel factory and we somehow put together a crew and camera and film. I would shoot it and Phil directed. We got some assistance from the National Film Board who was skeptical of our abilities and limited their participation to providing 16mm film.

Halfway through, we brought in Tim Sales to help us film, as I was working 18 hr days with the TV job at the same time. And the Film Board looked at our footage and decided it wasn't up to their standards. 

This would come back to haunt them.

We finished the film, called it COOPERAGE and began showing it around. I got a job in Saskatchewan and we communicated constantly. We entered every festival we could and even the Canadian Genie awards, similar to the Academy Awards.

Then Phil and I made a 35mm print and took it to Hollywood.

A film, to qualify for Academy consideration has to play 1 week at an L.A. theater. We persuaded the Laemmle chain to let us play it at one of their theaters, the Los Feliz after we screened it for them.

Then we would drive to the theater every evening and the projectionist would put it on after the last feature show ran, usually around 11pm. Then we waited and took back the print. We repeated this every day. Technically it was being shown in an LA theater even though most if not all the audience had already left the theater.

Then we got a call from Phil's girlfriend that Cooperage had won best short in the Genies in Canada. It beat every National Film Board short film, and nobody ever beats NFB shorts in Canada.

We wondered if they still felt that our little film was "up to their standards". In fact the local newspapers called the NFB for their reaction.

After that the film took off and eventually made nearly $29,000, and this was back in 1976. We won several awards and finally made it to the Academy Award selection. But we didn't win and we weren't in the final 5.

But we were finalists for the top 5 and I guess that's not bad for two unknown guys from Canada who made a curious little short film about a barrel factory.

What's Haute in My Travel Bag?

What’s new in my travel bag? A pair of After Soles, the portable, rollable ballet flats for the diva on the dance floor or on the GO! When my high heels, wedges or shoes (that hurt my feet) have run their course, I pull out my After Soles and keep it moving. I love the little bag designed to store your shoes, while you wear the flats. They’re perfect for carry on, handbags or totes.

They’re stylish and comfortable in silver, gold and black and cost just $14.95. So if you find that you’re in need of a little relief just slip them on and make those stiletto-induced sorrows disappear.

To learn more visit http://www.aftersoles.com/


Will you add a pair of After Soles to your travel bag?

The Writer Got Screwed

A comment in Wednesday's blog got my blood running a little, in that I stated something that, according to Anonymous, was not true. Rather than repeat it, you can check it out if you want.

But it opened up a long-running sore with writers.

They don't get no respect.  

With apologies to Rodney Dangerfield.

This respect issue permeates the lives of many writers, even the famous ones. We just don't get any respect from the producers and directors and stars. Of course it's not always the case, as I have said often, I've had the privilege of working with a lot of good producers who do respect what I do and treat me accordingly.And before you think it's just a dozen whining writers, consider this:

The WGA, our bargaining entity and enforcer of all rules issues a palm-sized booklet, of which I scanned, with the following "rights". For example, and I edit slightly for space;

• The director must meet with you if  you are the currently employed writer.

• The director should invite you to the first cast reading.

• Your name should be listed on the call sheet adjacent to the producer or director.

• You may ask to visit the set.

• The company must invite you to cast and crew events.

• You have the right to view a cut of the film in sufficient time for suggestions.

• The company must include your name and credits in the presskit.

• The company will invite you to the premiere.

• The company must give you a copy of the film.

Do you think anyone else on the crew, from director to driver needs to address those items above. Do you think this is a lack of respect? Why do we have to have it in writing that we can be allowed to visit the set?

On one set of a film I wrote I showed up and at least five of the crewmembers asked why I was there.


Because I WROTE THE GODDAM THING. And without me, none of them would have a job. And without them, I can still write and sell.


And right off the top, I have to clarify my own position here on respect. I really don't give a damn if anyone respects me or my work, frankly after 35 years in the business, it doesn't really matter because I respect myself. As my agent once said to a producer who said "we love Jim", the agent said he'd rather they like me less and hire me more.

I know my writing is good, I've been at it for a long time and just like the roofer who bangs his fingers on shingle roofs at first, eventually I learned how to write good.

Does that mean everyone loves my screenplays? 

No. They may hate the story, but they can't say the writing is bad. Story is a finicky thing, like movies that are made from them, some people like them, some don't. And you can't change that. So I accept it with the knowledge that it really isn't my fault. I just didn't connect with a story that particular producer didn't like.

The title of this blog refers to a book on contracts for writers; The Writer Got Screwed (but didn't have to) by Brooke Wharton. Reviews included:

• "an indispensable resource for anyone who's ever considered writing for the entertainment industry".

• "Recommend it to any aspiring screenwriter".

• "A tool for the screenwriter who does not understand the business end of show business."

Now you can see why I got hot by a comment that I was wrong in stating that studios and producers often ask for free rewrites.I have had producers refuse to pay me money owing on rewrites or even on a sale of a screenplay and once Disney wanted to pay me monthly payments rather than a lump sum. 

But let's address the reasons why "they" don't give us respect, or at least why there might be a suggestion of that. And remember, I respect myself first and don't really care if anyone else does.

There's one major factor against writers that nobody ever considers.

We are hired first, and let go first. Once the script is done, they really don't need us anymore. And that can be months before the movie starts filming. Maybe years.

And one thing producers hate is that they have to pay us, regardless if the movie goes into production or not. I've been paid $8000 for an idea that was ultimately rejected. Does that sound fair?

Yes, after all we did work and if we work we should get paid. Like everyone else. 

Schmucks with typewriters. 

Words from Jack Warner, I think, about what he thought of writers.

Another thing is that nobody sees us work, at least in the old days writers worked in tiny offices at the studio. One studio boss would walk past the offices shouting "I don't hear the typewriters!"

But now, most of us write at home. And when we hand it the screenplay they really don't know if we wrote it, or our cat did. Or the mailman or the girl friend or the gas station attendant. After all, they all have screenplays, at least here in L.A.

And remember, once they get the script, they really don't need us anymore.

To be honest though, there are producers and directors who want the writers on set,  because they are not afraid that the writer will show them up or embarrass them.

An old joke I've heard is that directors don't like writers on the set because they're the only one who knows the director is faking it.

So this hopefully gives some of you an insight into a writer's world, and of course it's not everyone and as I've said, I've worked with some great directors and even had directors call me from a distant location to ask permission to change some dialog lines.

I like to think they have some respect for my work, rather than me, I'd prefer that.


And the check.  On time.

Doubt

               Our best built certainties are but sand-houses and subject 
                    to damage from any wind of doubt that blows.
                                            - Mark Twain


Am I going to get this movie made?

Will I ever write another screenplay?

If I do, will they like it?

Screenwriting and making films can be compared to many other jobs except for one thing; we're selling dreams not  a physical object. Sure, it's shown through a projector and onto a screen but the image tells each of us a story, some will like it, some will not. But if it's good you'll remember it the rest of your life.

Well, okay, I'm being a little pretentious, not all movies are special, nor are they great. Some are just bad. Others are horrible.

But again, that drives the point home. Filmmakers can give you a good experience or a bad one or just a mediocre one. And most times the people who made it don't know until they've finished it.

And that's where more doubt comes in.

I'm doing a side job now, a rewrite for a screenplay that wasn't very good from another writer. In fact it was pretty bad, not the writer's fault, they just didn't have the experience to make the screenplay very good.

There's a lot of that now. Anyone who can shell out $150 for screenwriting software can call themselves a writer. And they do. Kind of like someone buying a model airplane and is now ready to fly a 747.

I had read the screenplay and realized it needed a lot of work to make it even readable. And I don't really like doing this and the money frankly wasn't great. But I decided to do it for three reasons: 

• There were some special considerations to this story that made me want to help the writer, some very unusual ones which I won't get into because of the serious nature. 

•  I knew I could patch it up to make it more saleable. 

•  I wanted to test myself again, I haven't written a screenplay for almost three years. I did some polishes but that's minor stuff. This was a Page 1 rewrite, meaning every page needed work. .

 So I said yes and then I waited.

And waited.

No. It wasn't for the first payment.

It was because I was scared. I wanted it to just go away.  I wanted to wake up that morning and hope it was gone. Why?

Doubt.

That's it. Having written over 70 screenplays,  17 of which were made and 30 hours of episodic TV and at least 30 spec scripts, I was unsure.

I didn't think I could write it. I didn't think I was good enough.

30 years of rejection does that to a writer. Remember out of 70 screenplays, only 17 were made. That's 25%.  75% of my work on feature screenplays was passed on or turned down or given to another writer. The odds are not great.3 to 1 that they won't like it.

The funny thing is that any writer, any honest writer will say the same thing. The same goes for directors and for cameramen and... for actors.


We are an incredibly insecure bunch of people, as Sally Field said when she won her 2nd Oscar. "you like me,you really like me".

And there I was. I had a job. Not a big job, but something to do besides trying to develop and fund 3 movies for which I was not paid.

A friend of mine goes through doubt because they are having to work at a second job to support this life of writing and believe me, that is not easy. Just try it sometime. But we have no choice.

To quote my friend quoting Stephen King, "it's not like we have a choice".

People say, whattya mean, you got a choice, settle down to a paying job like the rest of us and just get along.

The truth is, we can't do those jobs. Or we can't do them very well or enthusiastically.

I once had a job where I was sitting in a shopping mall getting people to guess the number of jellybeans. Honest. I did this. It was a thing to get newspaper subscriptions and at the end of a week I hadn't signed one subscription. Not one. 

The newspaper ad guy says "Jim, everyone sells at least one". Not me.

I worked as a medical writer once, doing Workers Comp cases. I was great an editing transcripts of doctors and lawyers and injured workers. I just didn't do the technical stuff well.

I worked as a limo driver and got lost or refused to speed or run redlights. A Canadian trait no doubt.

I had an office job once, editing a travel guide of Las Vegas and had to listen to gossip about other people in the office and had to listen to gossip in the cafeteria and the elevator. And I had to show my work every few hours to the head editor. I lasted 2 weeks.


And yes, I was fired from each of those jobs.


So when it comes to writing, we have no choice, it's the only thing we can do reasonably well and have an opportunity to express our feelings. Because it's all about our feelings. We want to tell stories and to have people smile or cry or get angry. Because it makes us feel good.

"You like me, you really like me". 

Insecurity? Damn right. For whatever reason, distant parents, getting beat up in school, having kids laugh at us for the way we talk, a bad relationship, or just marveling at sunsets on the prairies or the way a waitress wipes tables. It is so remarkable to us, the little things in life and we want to share them.

And much of the time we do it for free. I've been asked to do free rewrites or polishes on almost every job I've had, except for those with great producers like Steve White and David Bixler and a few others. The other producers always ask for a "little bit of fixing up" even though it goes against WGA rules.


So why do it?

Because if you don't, they'll hire another writer and pay them for the rewrite and not hire you for the next job up the road.

So much for protection from WGA.

But I know we're not the only ones.  I know there are creative people be it in industry or business (well, honest ones) and other jobs. I know someone who loves to cut lawns, who is proud of the evenness of the grass and the edging lines.

My dad was a great mechanic, he used to listen to the sound of a Ford V8 engine and smile after he tuned it up.  He'd look at me and nod. No words needed.

And another friend of mine is an oral surgeon and she gets up at 5.30am and writes a few pages of her latest screenplay for maybe an hour and a half and then she has breakfast with her family and then goes to work at her dental office.

You couldn't get me up at at 5.30 for anything, let alone writing. 

And I still want that rewrite to go away.

Because I know I can't do it.

Or you won't like it. 

So after a week of using every excuse to not write, I settled down Sunday, something I rarely do as it's a day of rest, right?  But I hammered out 1 page. Not a lot, not a little.

And it all came back. That flow of energy started up, I had an idea for the next scene, and maybe one after that.


I did 5 pages in 90 minutes.

The pro from Dover is back!

At least until tomorrow when I face that damn blank page again.

Flow With Haute Hair and Make Giving Back Beautiful

Tucked inside the land where wigs, weaves, and natural hair reign supreme among trend-setters is a hair salon that makes giving back beautiful. In a loft-like space with flowing water and master stylists working their magic sisters Najah (pronounced like the river Niger in Africa) and Lateefah Aziz are watching their dream come true with every color, cut and style.

“I loved doing hair as a child, but I took the corporate America route,” says Najah Aziz. But after more than 16 years in corporate America¸ she began thinking that it was time to follow her passion and open a salon. “It took courage to give up everything to get something I truly wanted.” Soon after, her sister joined her bringing an expertise in customer service and business management.

Just two years later with a roster of professional women, socialites and girls, who just love their hair as clients, the Aziz sisters have become a force in the Atlanta area beauty industry. They pride themselves on being different and offering amazing hair care through trendy styles, cuts and healthy practices using PHYTO products. In “black Hollywood” where haute hair is serious business—they rule!

Najah, known for her fierce, precision cuts for women who love their hair short, is the creative one. For her, hair is more than an occasional fling—it’s her passion! “I work to improve and learn every day by watching instructional videos, taking classes, practicing on mannequins and learning from our talented staff,” she says with pride. “That’s when you know it's a passion.”

Guests entering this urban sanctuary in Inman Park are greeted by warm earthy tones with a dash of blue. Hardwood floors and chocolate furniture coupled with flowing water offer peace and tranquility for those looking to escape the urban grind of this southern city. Amazing stylists like Nia Simmons greet you with a smile and punctuality! Nia washed and conditioned my dull, dry, lifeless hair before a stimulating steam hydration treatment to restore moisture. After she trimmed and pressed my hair, it went from drab to fab in about one hour.

Perhaps what really sets this salon apart from others is their charitable giving. The sisters have made it part of their business practice to offer free hair care and beauty services to battered women, breast cancer survivors and trouble teens quarterly. “We donate our time and talent to women who otherwise might not receive professional services,” says Aziz. “My staff and I get as much out of servicing them as they get out of it because we just believe it's our responsibility.”

If you love haute hair and giving back flow with Like The River.

To learn more visit http://www.liketheriver.com/

Will you visit Like The River?

Going back and going ahead

So, we're at a crossroads now, Travel Day is losing steam in that Manitoba didn't deliver as they said they would and the U.S. investors, who get several people asking them for money each week, are beginning to waffle.

Ironically, my friend Rachel, of Eh Channel, who had lost her job due to company belt-tightening is back in another great position to help us.  It's no guarantee but we've had one preliminary discussion and hopefully it will lead to more.

I'm now prepping a short proposal for Chaser, the script I want to make for a low, low budget, maybe less than $100,000. The timing is good, the fall release of Paranormal Activity, the low budget film of $15,000 has made over $120 million world-wide.

This has made the studios and producers look at similar projects, one just sold at Sundance, I mentioned it a few posts ago, Buried , with wannabe A-List star Ryan Reynolds about a guy who's being held for ransom in a box underground somewhere in the middle east.

The whole movie is about him in the box.


Chaser is about a guy in his car for 3/4 of the movie. I wrote this 2 years ago as an experiment. I wanted to see if I could keep audience interest in the character even though he is in his car for most of the movie.

These two stories fit into that category labeled "non-recurring phenomenon", in other  words a film that would never get major or even minor studio financing because it doesn't fit into the formula of action movies, romantic-comedies, horror, family and giant blockbusters.

So they don't want it.

Until one of them makes a ton of money.

The first movie to do this was arguably Easy Rider which was released in 1969 for a budget of around $350,000 in a time when a regular studio picture cost $5 million. It took Hollywood off guard and in no time they were giving money to any long-haired hippie to make movies.

Naturally most failed. You couldn't copy the success of Easy Rider because it was a non-recurring phenomenon. In other words, they didn't know why it made money so they gave it a label.

After that a few more of these types of movies came again, Blair Witch Project, costing $25,000 and making over a million. There was Open Water, which made about $40 million and cost about $150,000.

This year, Paramount is opening a division to make movies for $100,000, to try to catch "lightning in a bottle" as the popular saying goes.

Now you're thinking that maybe Chaser is the right idea for this moment. I think it is. But do I think it's going to make $100 million dollars?  I'd be happy if it made back it's cost. The last thing I would ever attempt to predict is how much it could make at the box office. I'd be a fool to do that.

But as long as the studio heads think they can find the next Paranormal Activity they might as well listen to our pitch. In the next few weeks, I'll complete a budget, a proposal and more and then start" shopping the project."