I've had scripts analyzed ("So, tell me about your mother?" "I hate her. She'd let just anyone write on her.") I have to say that the only one pleased by the experience was the reviewer, whose bank account got more outta me than I did from the notes the reviewer left me. (I will say though that every, single, comma, is, in, the, write, spot, in that script.)

I've also entered several screen play contests. The reviews I've gotten back haven't been helpful. If they'd said, "you suck" I might have packed up and stopped bothering. But they mostly said, "Well, I just didn't like the story." Which is all well and good if you aren't a) trying to place in a contest and b) trying to figure out how to make your stuff better so that it can place in a contest.

Given all of the above, I decided this time I'd just spend the money and take an advanced screenwriting class with a writer who'd actually done some work. I figure if the teacher has written professionally, his comments would be of more use than anything the semi-professionals had provided.

Just a quick aside... if you ever really want to get rich in Hollywood, don't even bother trying to sell to the movies. Spend all of your time and energy selling to people trying to get into the movies. Seriously. There is a booming business out here of people who teach actors to act better or writers to write better. Or who provide inner-child-mythic-journey-guaranteed-to-get-you-to-act-write-direct-cook-or-pick-your-nose-better classes. These people rake in the dough from all of us dumb shmucks willing to part with our hard earned Benjies to just be doing something that even seems like making progress.

I found a class through admission, with a teacher who'd actually had something made (on UPN... but I can't hold that against him as it's better than I've done on my best day), who might just know something helpful he'd be able to impart.

Which brings us to today.

I figure that if I'm going to suffer through this, some of you might get something out of the script creation process that I'm about to embark on. (Humor, pity, scorn and ridicule....) Some of you might actually be interested, either because you have dreams of writing your own script or are just wondering what goes into actually writing one (Humor, pity scorn and ridicule....)

The last script I wrote, The Far Long View, was one of my best yet. My friend Vince - Mr. Entertainment - who actually manages actors in this insane town, really enjoyed it, as did another friend of mine who runs the local Gay and Lesbian Film Festival. The fact that they are both intelligent and that they liked the script told me I wasn't off in the dark.

However, Vince did point out, when I was in a blue mood after getting some lack luster coverage from a script competition that rejected the work - that the story required one to think. And we all know what great difficulty people have in doing that.

He suggested, challenged me really, to write a simple story, in any genre, with some appeal, that actually had the deep, heady stuff in it, but conveniently off to the side, waiting to slip in through the back door while no one was looking. Did I mention that Vince is a genius?

Anyway, I started thinking about those two great, lowest common denominator entertainments values of sex and violence and figured I could definitely create a story around that. Lest you think I'm selling out (Heh, heh....right...I need to have something to sell first...) sex and violence are great "hooks" to tell just about any kind of story you want.

And I've decided I want to tell a detective story.

Simple, and classic right? Alcoholic detective, out of step, one step ahead of the bad guys, the police and his ex-wife....

Of course, that's actually boring. If I'm going to spend my time writing, the hero is gonna be a fag. Please. I mean, I've written straight characters... a whole lot of them... in at least two screenplays of mine. While those stories are good, if I'm going to spend time with characters, I wanna spend time with a hero who gets the guy. I mean, sure, if you are gonna pay me, I'll write my heart out about Steve getting Stephanie.

Here's the hook line (they call it a "tag line" out here):

A hip, young West Hollywood detective seeks the scion of a wealthy family, lost in a world of drugs and porn. His simple assignment propels him into a generations old family conflict of lies, revenge and ambition, stretching from the sordid, back alley streets of Los Angeles all the way to the Governor's Office.

I know, it sounds like half a dozen (thousand) stories that spew out of Hollywood all the time. That's part of the point. I'm hoping, in a round about way, that I can comment on sex, violence and the nature of good and evil before it's all done. And write a good fight scene, a few bare buts, hot sex and an explosion or two.

In the next few days I'll tell you about the class and the assignments as well as the progress I'm making. Tomorrow though, I'll introduce you to Quinn Peerman, the hip, young, hero of our tale. A tale that I think I'm going to call: "A Queer Sort of Paladin."

Am I good?

Anybody?

Bueller?