Hello again.
I am officially Tribeca’d out. This is a good place to be, really, but it took almost a week to recover fully. I’m not even sure if I recovered fully. But here I am. Writing again!
Tribeca itself was very cool. Then again, I had the swine flu for the first week. I’m serious. Well, I don’t know for sure that it was swine flu, and it did happen the week BEFORE Mayor Bloomberg got on TV and said, “If you are feverish and coughing, STAY HOME” and therefore didn’t do me any good; due to a precarious situation at work, I came in five of the seven days I shouldn’t have. But it was the flu. And then I went to Tribeca events at night, again when I shouldn’t have. It was ridiculous for a couple of those days, because I literally couldn’t speak. And these events are not exactly conducive to speaking. Blaring music, tons of people screaming over the blaring music, and then having to scream even louder because of the combination of the blaring music and screaming people, and it just gets harder and harder. I’m not a good screamer in the best of times, and afflicted with swine flu, I am much worse. So the first night I tried—oh, how I tried—and ended up leaving early. It was funny. “What are you here for?” (The Tribeca equivalent of “What do you do?”—the standard good-to-meet-you New York question) “I wrote—cough cough—a script—cough cough—about Marie Curie and got a fellow—cough cough—fellowship.” Cough cough cough cough cough cough cough cough ad nauseum. I threw in the towel after 45 minutes. The next night, Anil had come into town and so I just smiled and mouthed, “I’m sick. I can’t talk.” And he talked. He’s a good talker, so it worked fine. I tried to interject from time to time, so I didn’t look like Hillary Clinton circa 1991 (anyone remember her nod-and-smile routine?), but was so relieved he was there and I didn’t have to speak. Wednesday night I stayed home and watched Wedding Crashers (really very funny) and slept. Nice. Thursday night there was a party at the Apple store in SoHo, which still had the loud music and crowds, but we got there early and avoided the worst of it. Friday night was the awards ceremony, the one for which I purchased The Dress. The event was nice enough (Robert DeNiro was there!), though after a while I just had to sit down and got hit on by a drunk guy from Long Island. Anil came by and gave me the “Do you want me to leave you alone?” look. I leaned forward and said, “I need you to get me out of this.” So we started talking, and by the time I turned around again, Drunk Long Island Guy had disappeared. Nice to have a guy around for that. Saturday we went to a brunch (very tasty food) that was nice but not really anything special; then we went and hung out in the Filmmakers’ Lounge and met one of the Tribeca funders, and had an interesting conversation with him and his buddy. They invited us to a happy hour at an expensive restaurant, and we went there and then walked around SoHo/Tribeca for a while* and got gelato. The next day, Sunday, there was a reading of scenes from some of the fellowship recipient screenplays. They were great. We didn’t get read, because we didn’t finish the screenplay in time, but given that we’d done a full reading in LA a few weeks prior, it was fine. And Jodie Foster was there! She seems nice. She’s directing the production of one of the screenplays. Exciting stuff.
The next week we had a lot more parties, more of the same. Thursday morning was very cool, though: a "Women in Film" brunch. It was at City Hall Restaurant, again in SoHo, and there were all kinds of lovely women who chatted and commiserated and congratulated each other. The parting gift: a jar of Chanel anti-aging cream. Very appropriate for women in film. I cracked up. (it's worth $375! I looked itup!) And then I asked my dermatologist sister if I should use it. Her verdict: sell it on eBay and use Renova instead, "something that actually works."
Friday night was the best, since it was a dinner for the Sloan recipients. It was more intimate, much quieter, and I sat by great people (though a lot of them rotated) and had great conversations about Marie Curie, the screenplay, my books (Did I Expect Angels? and the other one that I’m writing—or, more accurately, trying to write). You know how sometimes you have a night where you just don’t want to go home because you’re having such a great time? That was Friday. Anil had gone back to California already, so he missed it, and he shouldn’t have because it was by far the best event.
Anyway. In DIEA news—well, there’s not much. My website, My Unexpected Angel.com, is finished, so check it out and leave a story of someone who has helped you out. It’s all good.
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*for non-New Yorkers, SoHo refers to “South of Houston,” meaning Houston Street, a stop on the 1 subway line. It’s a particular area, small, just on the border of TriBeCa, which means “Triangle Below Canal,” which is the next stop on the 1 line. And Houston is not pronounced like Houston, Texas; it’s HOW-ston.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
Hello again
I thought I'd shock anyone still out there and post again. A second post in ten days! How can that be?
Well, see, the script is just about finished. I can't believe it. We had a reading in Los Angeles and tweaked, sent it out to friends to have them read and tweaked some more. Today we sent it to our rep at the Tribeca Film Fest, and that's about it. We can still tweak, of course, but now our business turns to trying to sell the thing.
Oh, the humanity.
Selling a screenplay is a tricky business. There's the "option," which is essentially getting paid to sit on the script and not send it to anyone else, as the optioner considers what s/he would like to do with it. Often an option comes with an extension clause, where you have to sit on it for six months, and then the optioner decides whether or not s/he wants it for another six months. So you can spend a year just wondering if your optioner wants the script or not. Granted, it's not bad to get paid to do nothing, but you're not getting paid a lot. Certainly not enough to quit a day job or anything like that. Not enough to establish a career as a writer. And it's not as prestigious as actually selling a script, so you can't go around bragging to potential industry partners, "I optioned a script." They'll say, yeah, so what? My dog can option a script. (This is not true, by the way. Just thought I'd make that clear.)
The next step up is selling the script. This is good. If you sell it to a Writer's Guild signatory, you become a member of the Writer's Guild, which is also good. WGA membership means you get the WGA minimum for the script (a lot of money, a heck of a lot more than an option -- not retire-on-this money by any stretch, but a lot to me) and you now qualify for WGA-sponsored health insurance and you have a say in union negotiations (albeit a tiny one), a vote, etc. You also have the WGA behind you in your negotiations, and can call on them for help if need be. This is valuable.
And the step after that is actually getting the movie made. This does not automatically follow a sale, sadly. You have to find the right cast, the right director, additional producers. They will sometimes demand rewrites. One of my writing teachers at NYU said, "There's nothing so depressing as going into a meeting with your sixteenth draft--you've given your life to this thing, labored on it--and having the producer say, 'Well, the script is just a first draft.'" I can imagine this quite vivivdly, having worked on this for a while. And all kinds of things can go wrong. A friend of mine had a script optioned and a director and actress attached. They were set to begin filming in a few months. But the actress demanded a new ending. Not just any new ending, but one she dictated. The director said he'd walk if they rewrote to that ending. The actress said she'd walk if they didn't. Time went by, the director's window of availability closed, and the director quit. Then the actress quit. Then the option expired. The script remains in limbo.
That's only one of the many, many things that can go wrong. I won't go into all of them here, not wanting to jinx myself.
Now on to good news about my book. Yes, my book! Remember that? The thing I started this blog for?
I qualify for the Star program, in which they can place my book in bookstores, "regionally and perhaps nationally." It won't happen any time soon -- it takes at least six months, possibly a year -- and meanwhile I have to fill out some extensive forms talking about what kind of publicity plans I have. It's odd and difficult to shift focus back to Jennifer and Henry, my old friends. I may have to do some rewriting of the book, too. Interesting.
Meanwhile, a short story I wrote, "Secret Combinations and the 7-Eleven," got accepted for publication in a literary journal: Weber, the Contemporary West. Better than that, they are submitting it as their entry for a best-of compilation, called Best of the West. An acceptance for that would be incredibly cool. Don't count your chickens, I know. But it still would be cool.
Well, see, the script is just about finished. I can't believe it. We had a reading in Los Angeles and tweaked, sent it out to friends to have them read and tweaked some more. Today we sent it to our rep at the Tribeca Film Fest, and that's about it. We can still tweak, of course, but now our business turns to trying to sell the thing.
Oh, the humanity.
Selling a screenplay is a tricky business. There's the "option," which is essentially getting paid to sit on the script and not send it to anyone else, as the optioner considers what s/he would like to do with it. Often an option comes with an extension clause, where you have to sit on it for six months, and then the optioner decides whether or not s/he wants it for another six months. So you can spend a year just wondering if your optioner wants the script or not. Granted, it's not bad to get paid to do nothing, but you're not getting paid a lot. Certainly not enough to quit a day job or anything like that. Not enough to establish a career as a writer. And it's not as prestigious as actually selling a script, so you can't go around bragging to potential industry partners, "I optioned a script." They'll say, yeah, so what? My dog can option a script. (This is not true, by the way. Just thought I'd make that clear.)
The next step up is selling the script. This is good. If you sell it to a Writer's Guild signatory, you become a member of the Writer's Guild, which is also good. WGA membership means you get the WGA minimum for the script (a lot of money, a heck of a lot more than an option -- not retire-on-this money by any stretch, but a lot to me) and you now qualify for WGA-sponsored health insurance and you have a say in union negotiations (albeit a tiny one), a vote, etc. You also have the WGA behind you in your negotiations, and can call on them for help if need be. This is valuable.
And the step after that is actually getting the movie made. This does not automatically follow a sale, sadly. You have to find the right cast, the right director, additional producers. They will sometimes demand rewrites. One of my writing teachers at NYU said, "There's nothing so depressing as going into a meeting with your sixteenth draft--you've given your life to this thing, labored on it--and having the producer say, 'Well, the script is just a first draft.'" I can imagine this quite vivivdly, having worked on this for a while. And all kinds of things can go wrong. A friend of mine had a script optioned and a director and actress attached. They were set to begin filming in a few months. But the actress demanded a new ending. Not just any new ending, but one she dictated. The director said he'd walk if they rewrote to that ending. The actress said she'd walk if they didn't. Time went by, the director's window of availability closed, and the director quit. Then the actress quit. Then the option expired. The script remains in limbo.
That's only one of the many, many things that can go wrong. I won't go into all of them here, not wanting to jinx myself.
Now on to good news about my book. Yes, my book! Remember that? The thing I started this blog for?
I qualify for the Star program, in which they can place my book in bookstores, "regionally and perhaps nationally." It won't happen any time soon -- it takes at least six months, possibly a year -- and meanwhile I have to fill out some extensive forms talking about what kind of publicity plans I have. It's odd and difficult to shift focus back to Jennifer and Henry, my old friends. I may have to do some rewriting of the book, too. Interesting.
Meanwhile, a short story I wrote, "Secret Combinations and the 7-Eleven," got accepted for publication in a literary journal: Weber, the Contemporary West. Better than that, they are submitting it as their entry for a best-of compilation, called Best of the West. An acceptance for that would be incredibly cool. Don't count your chickens, I know. But it still would be cool.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Oh, the shame
It's been almost six months since my last post. What have I been doing for six months, dear reader? Why, writing a screenplay. In my last post I had just won a screenplay development grant from the Sloan Foudnation, through the Tribeca Film Institute. Well, they wanted a rewrite (it's a screenplay development grant, after all) and so I wrote one. And another. And another. But FINALLY I can say...well, not that we're done, but we're literally a couple of weeks away from being done. Which is a good thing, since the Tribeca Film Festival is at the end of this month and they're having an awards ceremony and everything.
(I have the dress...I bought it even before I knew I'd gotten the award. I saw it in June at Lord and Taylor as I was shopping for a dress for my brother's wedding. It was beautiful...and way too expensive. So I watched it. It wasn't going anywhere; it was a dry summer for sales. I waited. I stalked the dress. I visited it weekly. Sometimes they changed location to try to sell more of the dresses and I would panic, thinking it was gone, and run through the floors to find it again. Always there, and never on sale. Until October, when it was about half off. I opened a Lord & Taylor account to get an additional 15% off (I know, such bad financial sense!) and got another 15% off because I told the saleslady my summerlong stalking story. So it was affordable. And two weeks later I got the news. It was as if the universe had said, "If you buy it, you will get the fellowship!" And now I need to lose 10 pounds. I've been telling myself this since February. Hmm. Maybe this will just be an opportunity to purchase Spanx.)
Anyway. Marie Curie has occupied me since then, just about exclusively. Every so often I get ideas for future stories--both screenplays and books--and say, okay, jot that down for later. When is "later"? After Marie Curie sells! Optimistically speaking, of course; one never knows what will happen. I remain optimistic, just because it's a darn good script (if I do say so myself) and we've gotten such great feedback from so many people.
I actually just got back from a trip to LA, where we had a reading. We got 8 professional theater actors to donate their time (we paid them in sandwiches, literally) and we had one rehearsal and one performance. A "reading" is different from a real performance, fyi: actors sit in chairs and don't actually walk around or do anything they're supposed to do; they just read the lines from the script (no memorization) and put the proper vocal inflection in. But if someone slaps Marie (as does happen...juicy science stories!), the actor doesn't actually get slapped; the narrator literally says, "Jeanne slaps Marie." So there's some imagination involved for the audience, but it's so great for the writers to hear their words aloud. See, it always works in the writer's head; the eternal question is, does it work for anyone else?
So. I apologize if anyone has checked this blog in the last six months and not gotten anything. I've been busy -- you know, writing.
Just read and highly recommend: THE STORY OF EDGAR SAWTELLE
(I have the dress...I bought it even before I knew I'd gotten the award. I saw it in June at Lord and Taylor as I was shopping for a dress for my brother's wedding. It was beautiful...and way too expensive. So I watched it. It wasn't going anywhere; it was a dry summer for sales. I waited. I stalked the dress. I visited it weekly. Sometimes they changed location to try to sell more of the dresses and I would panic, thinking it was gone, and run through the floors to find it again. Always there, and never on sale. Until October, when it was about half off. I opened a Lord & Taylor account to get an additional 15% off (I know, such bad financial sense!) and got another 15% off because I told the saleslady my summerlong stalking story. So it was affordable. And two weeks later I got the news. It was as if the universe had said, "If you buy it, you will get the fellowship!" And now I need to lose 10 pounds. I've been telling myself this since February. Hmm. Maybe this will just be an opportunity to purchase Spanx.)
Anyway. Marie Curie has occupied me since then, just about exclusively. Every so often I get ideas for future stories--both screenplays and books--and say, okay, jot that down for later. When is "later"? After Marie Curie sells! Optimistically speaking, of course; one never knows what will happen. I remain optimistic, just because it's a darn good script (if I do say so myself) and we've gotten such great feedback from so many people.
I actually just got back from a trip to LA, where we had a reading. We got 8 professional theater actors to donate their time (we paid them in sandwiches, literally) and we had one rehearsal and one performance. A "reading" is different from a real performance, fyi: actors sit in chairs and don't actually walk around or do anything they're supposed to do; they just read the lines from the script (no memorization) and put the proper vocal inflection in. But if someone slaps Marie (as does happen...juicy science stories!), the actor doesn't actually get slapped; the narrator literally says, "Jeanne slaps Marie." So there's some imagination involved for the audience, but it's so great for the writers to hear their words aloud. See, it always works in the writer's head; the eternal question is, does it work for anyone else?
So. I apologize if anyone has checked this blog in the last six months and not gotten anything. I've been busy -- you know, writing.
Just read and highly recommend: THE STORY OF EDGAR SAWTELLE
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
long time ago...
Okay, it's been long enough ago that I last posted that my address bar didn't recognize my blog address. Sad.
But you see, I've had to prevent myself from blogging. Actively. Because I had a bit of a secret, and I didn't know how to blog without telling the secret. But the secret is out now, so I can make it public.
I won something.
Not by myself. I'm working with a producer in LA, Anil Baral, to develop a screenplay on Marie Curie, called A Noble Affair. This is the "scientific story" I've alluded to many times over the past few months. He and I have been working on this project for a year now, and we submitted it to the TriBeCa Film Institute for consideration for a Sloan grant. (The Sloan Foundation encourages the depiction of science and scientists in film.) 130 entries, 5 prizes. And we got one.
Yow!
So I'm excited. I found out a couple of weeks ago but they said it shouldn't be made public until they made their announcement. Can you say, "Sitting on your hands"? I so wanted to tell everyone I saw. I did tell a lot of people, more than I should have, but I felt guilty. But they did announce it yesterday. So it's official now, and I can tell everyone. I can even tell people what the screenplay is about, since they're also publishing our logline. Well, they're only telling half the story (we do show her pursuit of the isolation of the element radium, but we also show her personal life), but that's okay.
I will provide some links below. Not cleverly embedded in sentences, just bald.
http://nyindieseen.blogspot.com/2008/10/tribeca-film-institute-announces-first.html
http://www.dvnetwork.net/blog/2008/10/29/call-for-entries-for-2009-tfi-sloan-filmmaker-fund/
http://www.ioncinema.com/news.php?nid=3225
http://www.variety.com/article/VR1117994835.html?categoryid=13&cs=1
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/hr/content_display/news/e3ic75447be81df667c95e47db997a6b89e
I'm pretty darn excited to have my name in both Variety and the Hollywood Reporter. I did an internship at the 2005 Cannes Film Festival and manned the Hollywood Reporter booth at the Palais des Festivals and the (SOMETHING) Hotel--why can't I remember its name? Starts with an M--and have wanted to subscribe since then, though I was put off by its price tag.
The articles basically say the same thing, but I thought I'd include them all. And I'll keep you updated on the progress as it comes.
But you see, I've had to prevent myself from blogging. Actively. Because I had a bit of a secret, and I didn't know how to blog without telling the secret. But the secret is out now, so I can make it public.
I won something.
Not by myself. I'm working with a producer in LA, Anil Baral, to develop a screenplay on Marie Curie, called A Noble Affair. This is the "scientific story" I've alluded to many times over the past few months. He and I have been working on this project for a year now, and we submitted it to the TriBeCa Film Institute for consideration for a Sloan grant. (The Sloan Foundation encourages the depiction of science and scientists in film.) 130 entries, 5 prizes. And we got one.
Yow!
So I'm excited. I found out a couple of weeks ago but they said it shouldn't be made public until they made their announcement. Can you say, "Sitting on your hands"? I so wanted to tell everyone I saw. I did tell a lot of people, more than I should have, but I felt guilty. But they did announce it yesterday. So it's official now, and I can tell everyone. I can even tell people what the screenplay is about, since they're also publishing our logline. Well, they're only telling half the story (we do show her pursuit of the isolation of the element radium, but we also show her personal life), but that's okay.
I will provide some links below. Not cleverly embedded in sentences, just bald.
http://nyindieseen.blogspot.com/2008/10/tribeca-film-institute-announces-first.html
http://www.dvnetwork.net/blog/2008/10/29/call-for-entries-for-2009-tfi-sloan-filmmaker-fund/
http://www.ioncinema.com/news.php?nid=3225
http://www.variety.com/article/VR1117994835.html?categoryid=13&cs=1
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/hr/content_display/news/e3ic75447be81df667c95e47db997a6b89e
I'm pretty darn excited to have my name in both Variety and the Hollywood Reporter. I did an internship at the 2005 Cannes Film Festival and manned the Hollywood Reporter booth at the Palais des Festivals and the (SOMETHING) Hotel--why can't I remember its name? Starts with an M--and have wanted to subscribe since then, though I was put off by its price tag.
The articles basically say the same thing, but I thought I'd include them all. And I'll keep you updated on the progress as it comes.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Trains of thought
It looks like Stephanie Nielson's sister, Courtney Jane, is feeling a bit like I am, seeing the goodness of the world. Of course, she's directly involved in one of the cases that needs goodness, and much of it has been directed at her. Read her post expressing her gratitude here.
As of this posting, she has 91 comments. Wow. She gets a lot more traffic than I do. :)
As of this posting, she has 91 comments. Wow. She gets a lot more traffic than I do. :)
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
guest post
No, not someone guesting on my blog, but me guesting on someone else's. This is the end of the month that has seen my TLC Book Tour. In the coming days I am going to post links to my favorite posts of the month. Meanwhile I find this guest post that I did...well, I like it. I hope you will too.
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Much has been made of the death of Paul Newman over the weekend. Rightly so, I would say; the man was not only a film legend, a great actor, and a darn good-looking man, but he was also a class act off screen. He had a stable, loving, long-term marriage (elusive even outside Hollywood), he eschewed offscreen drama, and he oozed that aura that said, “This is one of the good guys.”
Now, all of these things in themselves are remarkable. But what made (makes!) Paul Newman truly remarkable is that he went above and beyond all these things and founded a mini-empire of various edibles, and that all of the profit went to charity. $175 million and counting, 25 years strong. Mr. Newman, with his strong sense of humor intact even when dealing with such an extraordinary deed, referred to the mission of Newman’s Own as “Shameless Exploitation in Pursuit of the Common Good.” (Look it up. It’s on their website.) But even with his tongue firmly in his cheek, Paul Newman’s good deeds affected thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of people. Paul Newman, you might say, even while alive was a bit of an angel.
I don’t know if it’s just because I’m suddenly looking, but lately I’ve seen many, many people stepping into that kind of role in their everyday lives. They’re not movie stars, and the people they’re helping aren’t high-profile headliners, but they are decent, hardworking people making a difference in people’s lives. I am going to highlight three cases that I have been following for a while, to celebrate the goodness of people’s hearts and encourage you to contribute. If you can’t contribute money (and many of us can’t), contribute thoughts and prayers and deeds. If you can’t help these particular people (and yes, logistics get in the way) find someone else to help. Be an angel yourself.
The first person is a four-year-old boy with a rare kind of cancer, neuroblastoma. Read about this scary, deadly disease here. (http://www.acor.org/ped-onc/diseases/neuro.html –in case the link doesn’t work.) This cancer has a 30% survival rate. And then picture the terror of having your two-year-old child diagnosed with it. Picture being a child with it. Honestly, what do you remember about being four years old? I remember running and playing and learning to tie my shoes and read and starting kindergarten. Cancer had no place in my life, and shouldn’t have a place in any child’s life. Particularly for neuroblastoma, the survival rate is low; the treatments are excruciating. The blog I have followed is written by the parents of Liam Witt, found at: http://princeliamthebrave.blogspot.com . Liam is an active four-year-old who has been battling neuroblastoma for a year and a half, since before he turned three. He is brave, he is smart, and he knows a side of life no one ever should. Liam’s parents, Gretchen and Larry, write heartrending posts about the treatments, the crises, the ups and downs. They have formed a “Band of Parents” to try to get more money funneled into pediatric cancer (http://www.bandofparents.org), and they have begun a 501(c)3 of their own, Cookies for Kids Cancer, which has raised more than $400,000 for pediatric cancer research. You can find out how to get involved with that at https://www.cookiesforkidscancer.org.
Liam’s parents’ posts contain a lot of grim news, it is true. But they don’t hesitate to talk about the angels who have come into their own lives. Friends who occasionally bring dinner. The amazing nurses at the hospital, the local firemen who have befriended their son and sometimes stop in to cheer him up. Other parents in their same situation who offer invaluable support and friendship; other patients who buoy them, despite their own grim prognoses. It is inspiring to read about these people who have realized how important it is to play that role, the role of angel.
The second case is one that is out of immediate crisis, at least for the time being. A woman in Seattle named Carole Decker unexpectedly had a bout of sepsis in her 7th month of pregnancy and nearly died. They did a C-section and the baby is doing well, but Carole has been left with permanent damage: she lost both feet, her left hand, a finger on her right hand, and she is blind. Her husband Scott writes about this on his blog and gives updates on her physical condition. Now Carole needs prosthetics, rehab, and more time to heal. This story touches my heart for many reasons, and is personal because I had sepsis when I was two years old. I remember very little of the hospital stay (just memory flashes: my mom looking extremely tired and holding a Mr. Pibb; my dad walking into my room and holding up a little squeaky toy he’d brought for me; my sister running alongside my wheelchair when I was released) and for years didn’t understand the severity of what had happened. I am genuinely lucky (blessed) to be alive and whole. Another reason that this story affects me so deeply is that Scott has also written about the many angels who have stepped in to help him and his family. They have taken care of his children, and they have raised a great deal of money for the extra medical bills. A golf tournament was held that raised $18,000; a separate fundraiser netted them $60,000. A portrait photographer is going to donate 100% of her profits on November 1 to Carole’s medical bills. A silent auction fundraiser will be held at an art show. The list goes on. Amazing people are seeing a need and addressing it, saying, “My abilities are limited, but this is what I can do.” Angels, all of them.
The third case I originally heard about through the Today Show, of all places. A blogger named Stephanie Nielson was involved in a light-airplane crash with her husband and a flight instructor. The flight instructor was killed, and Stephanie and Christian were both severely wounded and hospitalized. Stephanie was burned over 80% of her body and has already undergone numerous skin graft surgeries, with many more to come. Both were in comas; Christian has come out of his, and his recovery is a little ahead of his wife’s. They are parents to four small children.
Stephanie too had a blog. She blogged about being a wife and mother to four rambunctious children and her daily joys. The big difference between this blog and other so-called “mommy blogs” is that she has celebrated the joys of her life. She focused exclusively on the positives of being a wife and mother. She actively tried to make life fun and wonderful and magical for her family and enjoyed doing it, and blogged about the results. She posted pictures of the little parties she held for her kids; of the dress-up games they all played together; of “acting crazy” for her daughter to take the shots. And her love for her life oozed through every word.
Stephanie got about a thousand hits a day when she was blogging. After the accident happened, and local media publicized it, the hits increased to about 20,000. Her sister Jane has taken Stephanie’s children home with her, to care for in addition to her own infant son. Jane has her own blog, in which she is now detailing how she has taken on angel duty for her sister, and others have also stepped in. On their fundraising site, www.nierecovery.com, Jane and others have listed various things people have been doing to raise money for Stephanie and Christian Nielson, whose hospital bills will exceed the lifetime maximum on their insurance, perhaps by a million dollars or more. You will see a dance night, auctions, a ski day, concerts, a race. Angels know what they can offer and are offering it, and making a difference in the lives of one family that stands in desperate need.
Perhaps angels have been on my mind lately because of my book. In Did I Expect Angels?, which I published a year ago, a young mother named Jennifer loses her husband and doesn’t deal very well. She has angels in her life, people willing to help her out, and she ignores them because all she can focus on is her own pain. On the night the book takes place, she has made a devastating decision and is en route to carrying it out, when a Costa Rican man, a passing acquaintance, named Henry decides that tonight is his night to help her—to be her angel. Henry tells Jennifer his life’s story, and the reader can contrast her inability to deal with Henry’s life, which has been a hundred times harder than Jennifer’s. But Henry has recognized his angels and his blessings and been grateful for them, and his intervention just might help Jennifer get to the same place.
I believe in angels, both literal and the kind I’ve been talking about with this entry. I’ve had my share, and they have helped me more than I can say—and certainly more than they know. I want to pay it forward, and to that end, I’ve decided to donate my own little bit to the Nielson fund, and am giving 40% of the profits of Did I Expect Angels? for the months of October and November to their hospital bills. I feel strongly that people need to give what they can, when they can, to whomever they sense might be in need. Now, my sales aren’t on the level of, say, Stephenie Meyer, but hopefully no one will begrudge me this widow’s mite. I find it interesting that in my book, my character absolutely doesn’t deal with her lot very well, not until it’s almost too late—and I’m donating the money from this book to people who have risen to their challenges and then some, and that the world is full of those people. I admire and respect them and hope to be more like them. In honor of the passing of a legend, Paul Newman, and in honor of these amazing everyday people, I hope you will be, too.
**************
Much has been made of the death of Paul Newman over the weekend. Rightly so, I would say; the man was not only a film legend, a great actor, and a darn good-looking man, but he was also a class act off screen. He had a stable, loving, long-term marriage (elusive even outside Hollywood), he eschewed offscreen drama, and he oozed that aura that said, “This is one of the good guys.”
Now, all of these things in themselves are remarkable. But what made (makes!) Paul Newman truly remarkable is that he went above and beyond all these things and founded a mini-empire of various edibles, and that all of the profit went to charity. $175 million and counting, 25 years strong. Mr. Newman, with his strong sense of humor intact even when dealing with such an extraordinary deed, referred to the mission of Newman’s Own as “Shameless Exploitation in Pursuit of the Common Good.” (Look it up. It’s on their website.) But even with his tongue firmly in his cheek, Paul Newman’s good deeds affected thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of people. Paul Newman, you might say, even while alive was a bit of an angel.
I don’t know if it’s just because I’m suddenly looking, but lately I’ve seen many, many people stepping into that kind of role in their everyday lives. They’re not movie stars, and the people they’re helping aren’t high-profile headliners, but they are decent, hardworking people making a difference in people’s lives. I am going to highlight three cases that I have been following for a while, to celebrate the goodness of people’s hearts and encourage you to contribute. If you can’t contribute money (and many of us can’t), contribute thoughts and prayers and deeds. If you can’t help these particular people (and yes, logistics get in the way) find someone else to help. Be an angel yourself.
The first person is a four-year-old boy with a rare kind of cancer, neuroblastoma. Read about this scary, deadly disease here. (http://www.acor.org/ped-onc/diseases/neuro.html –in case the link doesn’t work.) This cancer has a 30% survival rate. And then picture the terror of having your two-year-old child diagnosed with it. Picture being a child with it. Honestly, what do you remember about being four years old? I remember running and playing and learning to tie my shoes and read and starting kindergarten. Cancer had no place in my life, and shouldn’t have a place in any child’s life. Particularly for neuroblastoma, the survival rate is low; the treatments are excruciating. The blog I have followed is written by the parents of Liam Witt, found at: http://princeliamthebrave.blogspot.com . Liam is an active four-year-old who has been battling neuroblastoma for a year and a half, since before he turned three. He is brave, he is smart, and he knows a side of life no one ever should. Liam’s parents, Gretchen and Larry, write heartrending posts about the treatments, the crises, the ups and downs. They have formed a “Band of Parents” to try to get more money funneled into pediatric cancer (http://www.bandofparents.org), and they have begun a 501(c)3 of their own, Cookies for Kids Cancer, which has raised more than $400,000 for pediatric cancer research. You can find out how to get involved with that at https://www.cookiesforkidscancer.org.
Liam’s parents’ posts contain a lot of grim news, it is true. But they don’t hesitate to talk about the angels who have come into their own lives. Friends who occasionally bring dinner. The amazing nurses at the hospital, the local firemen who have befriended their son and sometimes stop in to cheer him up. Other parents in their same situation who offer invaluable support and friendship; other patients who buoy them, despite their own grim prognoses. It is inspiring to read about these people who have realized how important it is to play that role, the role of angel.
The second case is one that is out of immediate crisis, at least for the time being. A woman in Seattle named Carole Decker unexpectedly had a bout of sepsis in her 7th month of pregnancy and nearly died. They did a C-section and the baby is doing well, but Carole has been left with permanent damage: she lost both feet, her left hand, a finger on her right hand, and she is blind. Her husband Scott writes about this on his blog and gives updates on her physical condition. Now Carole needs prosthetics, rehab, and more time to heal. This story touches my heart for many reasons, and is personal because I had sepsis when I was two years old. I remember very little of the hospital stay (just memory flashes: my mom looking extremely tired and holding a Mr. Pibb; my dad walking into my room and holding up a little squeaky toy he’d brought for me; my sister running alongside my wheelchair when I was released) and for years didn’t understand the severity of what had happened. I am genuinely lucky (blessed) to be alive and whole. Another reason that this story affects me so deeply is that Scott has also written about the many angels who have stepped in to help him and his family. They have taken care of his children, and they have raised a great deal of money for the extra medical bills. A golf tournament was held that raised $18,000; a separate fundraiser netted them $60,000. A portrait photographer is going to donate 100% of her profits on November 1 to Carole’s medical bills. A silent auction fundraiser will be held at an art show. The list goes on. Amazing people are seeing a need and addressing it, saying, “My abilities are limited, but this is what I can do.” Angels, all of them.
The third case I originally heard about through the Today Show, of all places. A blogger named Stephanie Nielson was involved in a light-airplane crash with her husband and a flight instructor. The flight instructor was killed, and Stephanie and Christian were both severely wounded and hospitalized. Stephanie was burned over 80% of her body and has already undergone numerous skin graft surgeries, with many more to come. Both were in comas; Christian has come out of his, and his recovery is a little ahead of his wife’s. They are parents to four small children.
Stephanie too had a blog. She blogged about being a wife and mother to four rambunctious children and her daily joys. The big difference between this blog and other so-called “mommy blogs” is that she has celebrated the joys of her life. She focused exclusively on the positives of being a wife and mother. She actively tried to make life fun and wonderful and magical for her family and enjoyed doing it, and blogged about the results. She posted pictures of the little parties she held for her kids; of the dress-up games they all played together; of “acting crazy” for her daughter to take the shots. And her love for her life oozed through every word.
Stephanie got about a thousand hits a day when she was blogging. After the accident happened, and local media publicized it, the hits increased to about 20,000. Her sister Jane has taken Stephanie’s children home with her, to care for in addition to her own infant son. Jane has her own blog, in which she is now detailing how she has taken on angel duty for her sister, and others have also stepped in. On their fundraising site, www.nierecovery.com, Jane and others have listed various things people have been doing to raise money for Stephanie and Christian Nielson, whose hospital bills will exceed the lifetime maximum on their insurance, perhaps by a million dollars or more. You will see a dance night, auctions, a ski day, concerts, a race. Angels know what they can offer and are offering it, and making a difference in the lives of one family that stands in desperate need.
Perhaps angels have been on my mind lately because of my book. In Did I Expect Angels?, which I published a year ago, a young mother named Jennifer loses her husband and doesn’t deal very well. She has angels in her life, people willing to help her out, and she ignores them because all she can focus on is her own pain. On the night the book takes place, she has made a devastating decision and is en route to carrying it out, when a Costa Rican man, a passing acquaintance, named Henry decides that tonight is his night to help her—to be her angel. Henry tells Jennifer his life’s story, and the reader can contrast her inability to deal with Henry’s life, which has been a hundred times harder than Jennifer’s. But Henry has recognized his angels and his blessings and been grateful for them, and his intervention just might help Jennifer get to the same place.
I believe in angels, both literal and the kind I’ve been talking about with this entry. I’ve had my share, and they have helped me more than I can say—and certainly more than they know. I want to pay it forward, and to that end, I’ve decided to donate my own little bit to the Nielson fund, and am giving 40% of the profits of Did I Expect Angels? for the months of October and November to their hospital bills. I feel strongly that people need to give what they can, when they can, to whomever they sense might be in need. Now, my sales aren’t on the level of, say, Stephenie Meyer, but hopefully no one will begrudge me this widow’s mite. I find it interesting that in my book, my character absolutely doesn’t deal with her lot very well, not until it’s almost too late—and I’m donating the money from this book to people who have risen to their challenges and then some, and that the world is full of those people. I admire and respect them and hope to be more like them. In honor of the passing of a legend, Paul Newman, and in honor of these amazing everyday people, I hope you will be, too.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Science Fatigue
I have mentioned my screenplay before (many, many times), and tonight I’m going to mention it again. This is what I have been working on for the last few weeks.
It’s a great experience. I’m working with a producer in LA and collaborating, which I’ve never done before. So far it has been absolutely great. Collaborations can be wonderful but they can also be a nightmare; get two conflicting personalities, or one partner who doesn’t want to work, or conflicting ideas and inflexible people, and it’s a recipe for disaster. So it is really lucky that we’ve done so well.
It’s not done, but we’re really getting close. We have another draft or two to go—polishes, really, more than major rewrites. It is getting exciting. We turned it in to two competitions for grants, leading to my current stress. (My bedroom is a disaster. I did laundry on Saturday and still it sits, unfolded, in the bag. On my floor.) I have never outright won a competition before, but I’ve gotten to be a quarterfinalist, semifinalist, and an actual finalist. Anil, my producer, has actually won grants. I am hoping some of his awards karma rubs off onto me.
Meanwhile, the book blog tour continues. It has been wonderful. I will list the links to the various reviews shortly (not tonight; tonight is going to be short) so you can see for yourself how I’ve been all over the internet. Pretty wild. And it’s all been pretty heartening. It is true that not everyone loves it, but…not everything can be loved by everyone. (I always go back to the slapping down that The Lovely Bones received by the New York Review of Books. Horrible, awful, mean review, of a book that spent about a year as #1 on the bestseller lists and redefined the way I wrote fiction.) And enough people have, in fact, loved it that I am feeling pretty good. It’s really amazing to meet people all around the country and have them say that you’ve touched their lives in a small way. This is the best part of the whole experience.
More to come. Soon.
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