» Fringe Blog – Writing on Film, Culture, and Things on the Fringe

Blogging Sufferage

jelewis8 — Thu, 06 Sep 2007 14:53:55 +0000

Blogging ain’t what it used to be. Or more accurately, I’m not what I used to be. Blogging has become, unfortunately, a leisure I no longer have time to afford, though that will hopefully be changing over the next month or so. Due to the time constraints, I’ve had virtually no time to do any writing at all, and the end result has been that Fringe has suffered.
I trust all twenty of my regular visitors will understand.
For now, I’ll be recycling some old posts, some doozies and quality entries from my heyday of prolific blogging about writing, writing about blogging, and everything mundane and trivial in between. Hopefully, as things lighten up for me, I’ll begin to add more original stuff again. I beg your indulgence in the interim.
Oh yes, a quick note about the film listed on the sidebar, 13 Months of Sunshine is screening in Washington DC as part of the Ethiopian Millennium Celebration on September 9. I’ll be attending, along with my fellow producers. With the documentary footage we’re shooting, we hope to raise some eyebrows and interest from distributors. I’ll try and keep everyone updated on the film as it progresses to its final state and forward.

The Face That Launched A Thousand Projects

jelewis8 — Thu, 17 May 2007 23:32:11 +0000

As you can see, Fringe is undergoing a bit of change, most notably in the use of Adsense to augment site costs (I’m about to up my monthly hosting plan due to bandwidth and space issues). It’s a bit of a gamble, a calculated risk that I trust will not alienate too many people. The simple fact is, my site could be profitable, or at the very least income generating. Not that I expect to bring in a ton of cash. I’ve never been much good at making cash happen. Mostly because my desire and proclivity for blogging about debt consolidation or mesothelioma and other cash generating keywords tends to lie somewhere between getting a male Brazilian wax and running in a “Who Wants To Be Best Friends With Karl Rove” contest. Honestly, the money has never been an issue, and really isn’t now. But if I can turn a free site into a monthly check, I’d be foolish not to try.
My plate is once again loaded with several dozen projects of varying degrees of importance. At some point this weekend I hope to post The Canal, which is the short film I wrote, directed, and produced on a whim a couple months ago. How time flies. I haven’t had the time or money to submit to a bunch of festivals, though I did apply to one before realizing that the film itself is not of the caliber that I would like it to be. Then again, I might just be a perfectionist. Might explain my track record of submitting to the one festival I know will take my work. I think deep down I’m actually pretty talented. But deeper than that, at the Roger Corman level of the ego, I know I’m a failure and a hack. Or a guy who dreams big but just doesn’t have what it takes. There’s lots of people like that in the world. I may be one of them. So my inner Roger Corman casts doubt on all I do.
So I don’t push my work out to the larger world. And it’s a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy. No self-marketing means my work doesn’t get seen, which means no recognition, which means no validation, which means I slump further into the realm of useless doubt.
But oddly enough, I’m happy. I think.
I have a Fringecast recorded two weeks ago that is waiting in the wings. I’ve been working slowly to get the website up. I’ve also been pushing myself to finish the design for another site that could potentially be a fun social-networking thing, but with a bent toward conflict and argumentation. Something Greg Piper came up with.
Oh yeah, Greg, I gotta get your site up.
Just finished the first draft of a new feature script. Hoping it’ll be good enough to get produced. Just got rejected for my book by another agent, so it’s more query letters and more hoping. Haven’t been blogging because I’ve been writing other things, though I’ve tried to keep up at about an entry a week. It’s killed my site traffic, which is a bummer, but what can you do?
Finally, I’m producing 13 Months of Sunshine. That’s got a finish date of June 30. Lots of work for that left to do, but I’m enjoying the process. Just trying to stay afloat working a fulltime job whilst making inroads into the entertainment industry.
And now that this has turned into a personal diary entry, I’ll close by saying please don’t go anywhere. Or at least, please continue to visit. Thanks for your patronage. You’re better than this blog deserves.

John Waters World

jelewis8 — Fri, 01 Sep 2006 16:46:53 +0000

I have, I suppose, my first official pitch meeting today at 1PM, which is not to say I’m confused about whether today is in fact the correct date for the meeting–I have gone through one rescheduling already, so my confidence in the date and time are pretty near the temperatures of a supernova’s initial .02 nanoseconds of explosive insistence that the rest of the universe look at it. Look at me, I’m a freakin’ supernova. I’m a raging ball of atomic death, borne from substances that make fire seem like the stuff they dump on the Rockies every year. Have some freakin’ respect. (I don’t know why I made my supernova like Robert De Niro, but that’s blogging for you.)
I use “I suppose” in the sense that I am under the apprehension that this is actually a pitch meeting. It might be a facial calisthenics exercise session for the agent I’m pitching to. Maybe he needs a laugh. Maybe it’s remodelling week down at 24/7 and he’s desperate for some aerobic and cardiovascular stimulation. This could be the cheapest gym session I’ve ever paid for. Don’t worry, I’m not paying to see him. That’d be therapy, and I haven’t arrived at the conclusion that I’m an Anonymous in need of a Twelve Step Program. But gas ain’t free. It ain’t even cheap. It is a quality fire starter. I’m not necessarily going for success here–just trying to avoid being turned into a live-action wicker man.
But I’m actually positive, buoyant even. I have a sore throat, which I intend on telling him straight out. That’ll limit my talking time, which almost always works in my favour. Next I will pitch him the basic premise, which naturally I won’t be telling you, because my blog is searchable, and Hollywood has ears like a freakin’ marmot. This 30 second premise pitch will be enough to sell him on the concept, leading to champagne tumblers and chorus girls and an amazing rendition of “You’re In The Money!” I will then spend the next six months churning out a script that I think is worth about $.04 at the recycling center. The agent and I will hammer out ideas, developing ad nauseum, until finally he calls me up and gives me the John Dear bit, only without the sympathy votes. He’s moving on to someone who isn’t an artistic fraud and who actually seems to want a positive bank balance.
But hey, in Bizarro World, the script is actually seventeen midgets who’ve concocted an insurance scam involving hobos, dead cats, and a 1978 Harley, and the pitch is actually me getting drunk at a St. Patty’s Day party in Des Moines. And the agent…well, he’s a corpulent John Waters looking for the next anorexic Divine. So really, when you break it down that way, things aren’t so bad at all.
Since I am still trying to finalize said pitch (read: start), I’m going to cut this blog entry short. But I just thought of something. I suppose this might be the beginning of a Hollywood-esque bent to some entries. I have threatened such things before, but this is the first time I’ve ever been within handshaking distance of real life representation. There are no certainties beyond the fact that it’s going to take me almost an hour to get to the agent’s office, so my time is short. The blog, however, she remains.
Sundance beckons too. Oh, so much to do. So few midgets with insurance scams…

Battling Microbe Minions

jelewis8 — Thu, 31 Aug 2006 00:13:06 +0000

I think I’ve got the bubonic plague. All the symptoms are there, except for the rat bites, the swollen lymph nodes, the raging epidemic sweeping through the streets, and of course, the death. So it might just be a cold. Weird. I feel like I’ve written these words before. That’s the danger with blogging for years. You never know when you’re going to lapse into a spate of blog déjà vu. So let me run a search to see if I’ve committed this somewhat spurious act.
Back. Whewww. Safe. A search revealed I had only used the word “bubonic” once before, and it was in reference to an imaginary conversation between Hades’ customer support line and a recent denizen. I guess it feels worse than it really is, though when you’re sick, you’ve never felt worse in your life, no matter how badly you’ve had it before. Every breath is a burden. Every moment is actually the glorious exhibition of a microbe’s life-sucking force. This tiny being can knock you off your feet and completely incapacitate you, but even more amazing, it can temporarily rewrite your entire outlook on life. There are times when you just want to die, and those moments are completely understandable. Sleeping helps. It’s the span of time during a sickness that you get to cheat the system a bit. It’s like playing a Nintendo game with the Game Genie to get past stupid levels that you never liked in the first place.
Not that I ever had a Nintendo. It took me almost twenty-one years for me to acquire one. When I was a kid I not only wasn’t allowed to play video games, but I didn’t even have a television. I used to get grounded whenever my parents (read: dad) found out I played video games at friends’ house. I got pretty good about hiding that fact, but sometimes the overwhelming joy of manipulating sprite-based characters into running, jumping, and throwing fireballs at walking mushroom men was too much for me to contain. But I always promised myself I’d get a Nintendo. In fact, I remember making a solemn vow to myself that I’d get one in college. When you’re a kid, the pinnacle of greatness is in the immediate, the physical, the here-and-now. I never imagined that Nintendo 64 would supplant the regular Nintendo as the console to rule over all other consoles. I never imagined the Playstation, or its successor, or any of the other myriad consoles that have come out over the years.
So it was with great joy that I found myself in college, just moved into my first real apartment (boy, you really and truly grow up on the day you move into your first apartment), having visited the thrift store and found, among the used underwear (Ewwww!) and old cookbooks from 1973, a vintage Nintendo. This was something too good to pass up. Plus it was only five dollars. I knew I’d surpass that five bucks in playing pleasure many times over.
I only ever owned two games for that Nintendo. One was the ubiquitous Super Mario Bros. The other was Hudson’s Adventure Island, a game I recall playing all night over at a school buddy’s house one time in fourth grade. These things stick with you. I never got past the first three levels, ever. I was never much good at video games, precisely because I wasn’t allowed to practice at them. And so countless hours of my childhood were never wasted.
Such a shame.
Well, I’m off to do battle with the Microbes Minions and assert my creature dominance. I’m a human being–the ruling species on this planet! I will not be defeated by tiny particulates with cell-invading abilities! That’s what I tell myself, anyway.

Da Vinci Bits

jelewis8 — Sat, 03 Jun 2006 02:36:32 +0000

If you haven’t heard our latest Fringecast offering, or you refuse to download the 30mb file and have resigned yourself to a life without colour, then today is your lucky day, because for the first time ever Fringe is offering one of our favourite portions of the Fringecast as a solo download. I’m talking about the movie trailer/commercial segment we put together. Each one is specially tailored for maximum effect, written and put together in exactly the same manner as professional trailers and commercials, but at one hundredth the cost!
For today, I’m proud to offer you Da Vinci Bits, a new cereal that may astound you with its level of mystery and taste conspiracy that just may inspire you to discover the code that we like to call Crispy Goodness.
I’ve been slack on blogging this week, which I’m fully aware affects the lives of millions in the pan-dimensional but parallel universe of Kronk, but since we can’t see those poor souls (actually, they’re more like luminous pieces of intelligent quantum streams, but that’s another thing), it’s something we can ignore and make resolutions to amend later. However, it is for good reason. I’ve been working on getting Greg Piper’s blog The Smoking Room up and running again after a long hiatus due to server issues and a rather nasty bout with trackback spam. I’m proud to announce it is about 75% complete, with just a few of the archive pages to be put together, along with comment and trackback popup windows needing some styling. But it works, and hopefully by next week Greg will have slathered us all with his gooey take on the world and status updates on his fragile ego. I’m sure I speak for the multitudes when I say I can’t wait.
We’ve hit a curious stride here in Los Angeles, weatherwise [Ahh, your old fallback topic...weather. -ed. Hey, when you've got nothin', you give nothin'.]. Days are balmy, like a giant piece of two-ply toilet paper has settled on the entire city and given the angular landscape a soft blurry edge. Nights are still cool, but they’re warming up, and mornings proffer the requisite blanket of smog/fog that soon dissipates into the clear by 10am. Not exactly exciting, but there’s a certain comfort in the steady routine, and the lack of horrible heat and humidity of the East Coast more than makes up for any humdrumness of it all.
But it’s the weekend, which means that life slows down somewhat and you take stock of where you are. Still searching for a job, though I’m expecting a call back from a potential employer on Monday. I interviewed on Tuesday and had a decent time of it, though I’m not sure I stood out in a crowd of candidates, except in the fact that I didn’t wear a business suit to the interview. It didn’t seem like the kind of place where one would be looked unfavourably upon for wearing nice jeans and a classy button up–it’s a toy directory company–and the employees were attired quite a bit less strenuously than I, but I caught a glimpse of the next candidate as I walked out, and he was dressed to the nines, including a patriotic tie. Nice subtle reinforcement technique, I thought as I walked out. I’ll have to see if my Angelino approach worked. I’ll let you know how it turns out.

French For “I’ll Be Back, Just Not Sure When”

jelewis8 — Thu, 20 Apr 2006 07:10:32 +0000

I probably should have mentioned that the next couple of weeks will be light on blogging, for several reasons which will be enumerated below. But first, a note about what I’ve been up to lately, since it figures elaborately into the main discourse below. I’ve been working to finish up what I can with the Floyd site, and though I’m missing a few payments from Essejnet (Floyd pays Essejnet, Essejnet pays me as a sub-contractor), I’m not foolish enough to consider that my problem. Lately I’ve been really diving into the freelance job searching–something I’ve been doing for the past month and a half but with less diligence than lately. It’s something I desperately want to continue–without freelance the simple fact is my creative output dwindles considerably. Regular writing dies. Film aspirations asphyxiate. I become sad.
Here’s where I’ve always struggled to maintain an open honesty with myself. It can grow easy to delude yourself into thinking you’re being honest with yourself, when in fact you are glossing over the true state of things. I’ve wondered from time to time: am I a lazy person? The answer, while not as black and white as it could be, is more so than I’d like it to be. I’ve decided that I am not lazy: when I’m working on projects that I’ve taken under my wing. When I’m labouring under someone else’s objectives, I find I do as little as possible without falling short of the bare minimum requirements, and will do just enough not to get caught at not doing anything. My ingenuity and intelligence means I can get away with quite a bit, and even if I am found out, I can come up with some explanation that makes reasonable sense.
The few times I have found myself working hard under someone’s employ, I realize that it’s not because I care about the client–it’s because I care about the work. Lately, I’ve found myself working two different jobs, one paying, one not (the pay was minimal). Nevertheless, I found myself caught up in each particular assignment, loving nearly every step of the process. It was something I found myself thinking about at night trying to sleep, and wanting to continue work on it far longer than I legitimately could.
Contrariwise, I have worked on projects where the drudgery seemed to descend almost immediately. I would comprehend the boredom factor rising even before beginning the initial stages of work, and before the end, extend the project, not out of love, but of utter disinterest. Even though a few night’s worth of work would suffice to complete it, I had no energy, no motivation for it, and so the work would persist long after it was necessary.
I’ve been considering quite a few career objectives lately, for the simple reason that my overhead no longer outweighs my relax time. I’m a pretty lax person to begin with, so for me to say that is definitely a sign of distress. Translation: it’s coming down to the wire, folks. Money is, shall we say, something I see little of these days. And yet I’m not hobo poor, which is a gentle way of saying that I’m in debt, but not in poverty, and my income flow isn’t more than my outflow. Taxes were high again this year, since I was unable to sock away extra income (with my current inflow the concept is as alien as investing), which could be used for paying last year’s taxes. Instead they’re being used to buy PB&J. Which isn’t a bad thing. I love the peanut butter. But something’s gotta give.
And here’s where the honesty hurts. I’ve been deluding myself for too long, assuring myself that it would turn around, if I only had patience. Things haven’t turned around. I’m deep in debt, and I’ll be lucky to make rent and pay all my bills at the end of this month. Seriously, it’s a position I’ve led myself toward from the moment I allowed myself to believe in the illusion of a free lunch. As such, it’s my job to work to extract myself from it.
Beginning tomorrow, most extracurricular activities outside of my current obligations (both paid and unpaid) go on standby. Standby. Temporary. I have to tell myself that, or the road ahead looks too dark. And I sincerely believe that it is indeed only temporary. And, beginning tomorrow, I will begin the search for a job–that is, a corporate, or at least secure employment which will provide stable income.
I’ve been working at solidifying my portfolio so that potential employers will understand that I’m not a talentless hack. Because if the last eight months have taught me anything, it’s that I do have some gift for what I love most–writing and directing in a film environment. I’ve had numbers of people tell me so, and though I don’t usually believe the first person who comes along, when you keep hearing the same things over and over, you tend to give credence to it. I’m thankful for the people who have encouraged me thus far–you’ve been more blessing than you know. I’m here in Los Angeles, the heart of all that I want to be, and to let it go at this point would be an exercise in futility, not to mention totally disheartening. But even this hiatus is a blow, and I will miss my work thus far on my own personal creative projects, even if it is only for a little while.
So, I hope you will forgive my shortcomings–they’ve brought me to this point, and it is indeed of my own doing. With hard work and a bit of perseverence, I may yet turn things around. This is a hard not to choke back bit, but it is something that must be to correct my current path. Adieu.

Blog Down!

jelewis8 — Sat, 15 Apr 2006 17:18:57 +0000

Greg Piper may be back to blogging, but his return has been marred somewhat by the current inability to post anything, which explains his ten day disappearance. He is working on resolving the issue and will be back to posting regular updates on Jessica Alba-monkey pairings and his bitter take on the state of the Union (clue: the coffee sucks in Washington DC, which doesn’t bode well for the rest of the nation).

Celebrate the Good Times

jelewis8 — Wed, 01 Feb 2006 08:37:40 +0000

I’m EXCITED!!!!
This is the week of celebration. Today marks the first of seven days, the last of which will culminate in my third anniversary of blogging. Now if that’s not special, then I’m not sure what is. And if it’s not special, at the very least it’s convoluted. Who starts celebrating their third year blog anniversary eight days before the fact?
Answer: me. Obviously. At this point I have nothing left of interest to say on the subject of either celebrations, blogging, or premature ejaculation. See first sentence if you are offended by the forbotten PE phrase. And then laugh in relief as you realize that I have used a double entendre, or as the French say, double entongue-re.
1:28am and I am hot stuff.
I received a curious email yesterday, informing me I had received a $1.00 donation. Well, that was nice, whoever you are, I thought, but $1.00 seems a little, well, little, to be useful. Minus the Paypal fee, it becomes something like $.89. I can’t even buy a can of Coke with that. Nor could I buy the soft drink, not with LA vending machine prices being what they are.
So I check the link. Seems fishy. I call up Paypal in a different window and log into my account. Hmmm. No $1.00 donation. As I suspected, my $1.00 gift was in fact an attempt to haul in a major catch. They chose the wrong man. I’m not wealthy. I’m catastrophically poor, though not according to the IRS or anyone living in the Sudan. Still, I feel cheated, having once tasted the sweet, sweet delights of a tiny donation, and then having it ripped away by that ugly realization of electronic fakery.
My sorrow was palpable. Tangible, even. It came in the form of a rotting banana. And though I love bananas dearly, I threw it out, mourning its passing. And then I went to work. It’s all good.
Celebrate the good times. Seven more days. Have yourself a martini. It’s going to be a good time.

Red State Deadline

jelewis8 — Sat, 24 Sep 2005 01:22:40 +0000

As is usual when I get close to finishing a film, my blogging time goes down. I’m under particular pressure with Red State however, since I’m trying to finish it in time to send a copy to my brother James in Iraq before he and the men he’s with are shipped off to a new area. He’s hyped up the film, so I gotta deliver.
I think of it as studio pressure to finish a long-awaited and large-financed film. I’m just trying to deliver a great film that won’t disappoint. Hence, less time spent on other things.
You can keep abreast of Red State news by visiting the website (it’s also linked on the sidebar).

Been In Texas, Back Soon

jelewis8 — Tue, 31 May 2005 17:00:11 +0000

You probably don’t know where I’ve been, as I ran out of time to update the blog before I left, but I’ve been (and actually still am in) Texas with my brothers and sister-in-law. I left Thursday morning and am slated to fly back to Virginia tonight.
I’ll update more when I return, but it has been a weekend to remember. Among other things, and beyond all reason and feasability, we have shot our zombie movie, and despite a few hitches and running out of time on some of the latter shots, it is pretty much in the can. A small miracle, if I do say so myself.
I am going to start blogging about planning and moving out to Los Angeles. Things are definitely closer, and I’ve begun the apartment search in earnest. But there’s more to that story, and I’d like to get it all down when I have the chance to concentrate and regale you with a more witty writing style than this bloodless ordering of events.
So, be patient, kind reader, and I will return. Tomorrow.