Sassistas! Our dish on the social soup.

Feedback

Late yesterday morning, Flannista finally got feedback about that huge writing project that consumed the life of the Sassistas! the past month.

It was good news/bad news.

I've been a professional long enough to know that the news won't be optimal when, at the onset, your client spends an inordinate amount of time discussing the weather. Then the awkward pause.  Then, "The team would like to express our gratitude for what you brought to this and want to be certain that you get paid quickly."

"This" is a made-for-TV movie screenplay about video gaming that arrived in horrible shape.  The producers panicked because the project had already been green-lighted (in fact, they began shooting yesterday). Through odd TRM connections, I got an out-of-the-blue call at the beginning of August to see if I could rewrite the screenplay which was "only 30 percent there".  I was given notes from the producers about what wasn't working in the screenplay as well as parameters about what I could or could not change. I was also given 10 days to complete the revisions.

The good news: "several of your ideas put the fear of God into the director (who is also the original screenplay writer) who is now making his own revisions."  Also, several aspects/ideas I brought to the script were "very creative" bringing "whole other textures" to the screenplay "showing the benefits of living in community."

The bad news: "You had too much respect for the original writer and did not blow up the script.  If we were moving forward with you on this you would have had to tear down the walls of this thing."  

"Blow up the script." "Tear down the walls of this thing."  I never heard either of those phrases from the producer the two times we talked prior to yesterday's feedback.  He then pointed out specific things that weren't working in my revisions which was helpful and, I suspect, beyond the kindness of most Hollywood producers.

Then another awkward silence.

FLANN: Well . . . bottom line, can I do this . . . write screenplays?

PRODUCER: I can definitely affirm your writing skills.  God has definitely given you a gift.

FLANN: Would you use me again?

PRODUCER: We don't know if we'll get future projects.  But do send the invoice.

Some more pleasantries about the pros and cons of joining the Writer's Guild of America and that was that.

Matiss and I are disappointed and not disappointed. We keep going back to the fact that I was never explicitly told "to blow up the script".  Lord knows, I would have done that. That's one of my writing strengths: I am fearless.

A month ago, I was in a dark hole, living with the grief of losing Gwen and Tim as well as a professional incident that communicated to me that I was "washed up."  Then this project fell from the sky.  And now it's gone. 

I'm not in a dark hole anymore, but something seems to be missing. I honestly can't figure out the lesson, the message, the meaning, the moral, the whatever of this.

Got some feedback?

 

Saving the Day

Late yesterday, both treesta and Chrysosistah posted comments about how power being out for so long following a storm can bring together the neighborhood. Yes, it can . . . in a way that saves all sorts of lives.

Early Sunday morning, Flannista's neighbor, Sassley knocked on my door, asking for a cardboard box. When I asked why, she shared that Hurricane Irene had blown out a squirrel's nest in her front-yard tree and several baby squirrels had been tossed into the rain-soaked grass and seemed barely alive. Fortunately I had a large box closeby because I've been purging my personal belongings this month. I grabbed it, and Sassley grabbed a couple of towels.  We then located five baby squirrels and tenderful picked up each one, dried them off and placed them inside the box.

Soon other neighbors gathered. One shared that he had seen the mother squirrel carrying one of her babies underneath another neighbor's front porch. Someone else had seen a baby squirrel in his frontyard, clearly dead.  We wondered what we should do. Someone suggested the local Animal Shelter. I had the number in my iPhone because I had recently adopted Jem and Scout. No one answered there, but a recording provided the number to the county animal shelter. I called there, got the Wildlife Division and was told it would take the babies.  I ran outside and told Sassley. Yet another neighbor offered to drive her and the squirrels to the shelter, at least 20 miles away.

Within a couple of hours, the baby squirrels were in the hands of wildlife experts who would care for them. The power would not come back on for another 12 hours, but then, it didn't seem to matter. Sassley and her neighbors had come together to save the babies . . . or had the babies saved us?

 
 

August 2011 Open Mic

The sassosphere microphone is open, sistas and mistas.

Please step up and dish whatever you like.

We will be posting as long as we have electricity this weekend. 

 The Sassistas! sponsor Open Mic the last Friday of every month.

 

Joyeux anniversaire!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PEACESISTA!

PEACEsista won't have much of a chance to celebrate her birthday today for a very good reason.  Tomorrow she and nowayasista are flying to Paris for a couple of weeks!  The Sassistas! thought one way the sassosphere can wish her a Happy Birthday is to offer sassgestions via URL links on what to do and see while in Paris. To begin, be certain to stop here, PEACE and noway:

And while at The Louvre, be certain to check out this broad all decked out just for you!

 DIESEL WISHES YOU A HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TOO.

 PLEASE ADD YOUR OWN PARIS SASSGESTIONS and/or OFT-USED FRENCH PHRASES. 

 

Earthquake!

AT APPROXIMATELY 1:51 PM TODAY, SASSISTALAND EAST EXPERIENCED

A 5.8-6.0 EARTHQUAKE.  FOLLOWING ARE PHOTOS OF FLANN'S HOUSE!

AND IN THE CATEGORY OF WE CAN'T MAKE UP THIS SH!T, LOOK 

WHERE FLANN'S CONDOLEEZZA RICE ACTION FIGURE LANDED!

Obama the Wimp

FINALLY.

A major left-leaning newspaper -- the New York Times -- publishes an op-ed piece that calls a wimp a wimp.  "What Happened to Obama?", by Emory University professor of psychology, Drew Westen (three weeks ago -- sorry, Flannista is behind on her reading), skewered the President for "his deep-seated aversion to conflict and his profound failure to understand bully dynamics -- in which conciliation is always the wrong course of action, because bullies perceive it as weakness and just punch harder the next time."  

More devastatingly, Westen wrote that Obama, so fond of referring to "the arc of history" (paraphrasing the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s famous statement that "the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice), "has broken that arc and has likely bent it backward for at least a generation."

Unlike some of my Facebook friends, I no longer love it when I wake up in the morning and Obama is still President. Of course, I'm even more inclined to stay in bed (perhaps with a plastic bag taped airtight around my neck) when I think of the folks on the Republican presidential roster . . . but I digress.

Westen's article is quite long, but at the end, he offers possible explanations for Obama's wimpiness:

• "Centrist" voters like "centrist" politicians.
• Obama is not up to the task "by virtue of his lack of experience."  (i.e., Obama accomplished very little before he ran for President, having never run a business or a state.
• Obama doesn't know what he believes and/or is willing to take whatever position he thinks will lead to his re-election.
• Like many politicians, he has been consciously or unconsciously corrupted by "a system that tests the souls even of people of tremendous integrity, by forcing them to dial for dollars, for hundreds of millions of dollars."
• Obama ran for President on two contradictory platforms: "as a reformer, and as a unity candidate.  He has pursued the one with which he is most comfortable given the constraints of his character.  He and his political team have consistently chosen the message of bipartisanship over the message of confrontation."

Thanks A LOT, President Obama.  Compromise is working so well, don't ya think?:

• 400 people control more of the wealth than 150 million of their fellow Americans.
• The average middle-class family "has seen its income stagnate over the last 30 years while the richest 1 percent has seen its income rise astronomically."
• The incomes of our parents and grandparents have been cut so hedge fund managers can keep their 15 percent tax rates.
• The opinions of the wealthy predict the votes of the Senate.

What happened to "Yes we can," President Obama?  Why am I even asking because it's quite apparent that you can't. 

I'm going back to bed.

 

More Mystery

This is dessert, but what are its main ingredients?

Mystery

WHAT IS THIS?

If you don't know, make up something.

 

Cat Hair

 

Yesterday, Flann talked to a couple of beloveds on the phone and they mentioned that I sounded stuffed up. "Have you been crying?" they asked.  A legitimate question given the fact that I had completed a huge writing project and was wrung out.  I also had finally had time to catch up on the latest news:

• "Market plunge reawakens recession fears"
• "Gloom carries into a 2nd day in European markets"
• "Attacks in Israel heighten tensions with Egypt and Gaza"
• "U.S. and allies say Syria leader must step down"
• "Twin blasts rattle British council in Afghan Capital"
• "Robert Redford turns 75"
• "Man mugged for Bible"

But I had not been crying over meeting deadlines and news headlines. I sounded stuffed up because I haven't had a chance to vacuum for nearly three weeks.  During that time, Cattie hair has taken over my home. It is everywhere, including the refrigerator (how is that even possible?).

So for the next couple of days, Flannista will be vacuuming, vacuuming, vacuuming and reclaiming her house and reminding the Catties who's the boss around here.

At least I haven't been mugged for my Bible.

Project Lessons

 
 

For the past two weeks, Flannista has been caught up in the most intense writing project of her professional career. Because of a confidentialty agreement, Flann can't share the specifics of the project, but she would like to share some of the lessons she learned while working on it, in no particular order:

• There's nothing like an out-of-the-blue, intense writing project to snap a person out of deep grief.
• A Subaru Forester moving at an average of 67 m.p.h. for 3,000 miles (over two weekend trips) is one of the best writing studios ever.
• The story you start out with is never the story you end up with.
• When stuck on a key plot point, let go of the mother.
• You find out who your friends really are (as in all of life's challenging moments).
• Matissta is the most astute listener and patient writing partner of my life, and possibly, in the history of the world.

Today is the deadline.  I haven't yet sent my work to the client, but plan to before the stipulated 6 p.m. EST deadline -- probably late this morning.  I'm in a bit of a post-partum state.  I'm also nervous about how well I hit or missed the assignment.  What I can say, without hesitation, is that I am submitting the best I could have done and would not have been able to do it without Matissta.  Thank you, Matiss.  Thank you sassosphere.