I move to LA, how cliche

Summer 1997

Every morning before I went in to teach, I wrote for an hour about a teacher killing her students.  Somehow that helped me survive the wrong career field for me.  June rolled around and I was free. 

I went back and forth to Los Angeles, luckily my brother’s best friend from highschool kept letting me crash at his house. He had studied acting and when he first came out to LA he worked in films with later stars such as Brad Pitt. Now he was doing children’s theater. I couldn’t understand why he spoke so bitterly of the industry.

I found a perfect rental.  It was a back porch turned into a one room apartment on a house with 6 acres near La Canada, the official valley.  I knew I would have little room but my dog could run around happy.  The cat would be pretty happy too until she saw another cat get eaten by the coyotes, then he always came inside right at dusk.

I applied to every job possible. When I was in town I bought one Hollywood Reporter and one Variety magazine.  I just knew I was going to get an exciting job. I applied to anything that looked entry level – receptionist, office assistant, show runner.  The later turned out comical. The man was nice enough to call me to explain that a show runner was actually a producer/director of a TV show, not someone who ran between shows like I assumed.

I got some interviews which was a miracle.  In one office the woman interviewing me had a stack as high as a computer monitor full of thin fax paper resumes.  The reason I was picked was because I spoke Spanish, French, and Italian.  This always seemed my way to get into the biz.  She liked me so I got another interview with the men who ran the talent agency.  They said they remembered starting out just like I had, working their way up from the mail room. We had a nice chat but later as I went to get a smoothie, some body builder tried to sell me his pill/exercise program. I told him I just came from an interview. He said “with those scratched up shoes.” Right then I knew I didn’t get the job.  My lack of fashion sense would suit me in LA LA land.

But one job did keep asking me back for interviews. Again, they liked the fact I could speak Spanish, in the rare case I might need it. They even hired me. Part time, every morning. I was so happy. Here I go – my exciting new life in show biz.

The job was dreadfully boring. Especially the days I worked all day. There wasn’t enough work. It was just putting information into a computer. Everyone was nice. It was interesting to see the fringe of the business. It was a company that helped put products onto game shows.  Yet, I wasn’t meeting Pat Sajak. I wasn’t doing anything glamorous. I was disappointed to learn that show business was not all high adrenaline all the time. 

Something important did help me at that job. One thing always seems to lead to another – wherever you are in life, I believe. A sweet woman that worked there was also an actress, this happened a lot in this town.  I had told her that I write screenplays. She mentioned she had to go out on an audition and had to pick up her sides.  I asked, “What are sides?”
”You have to know what sides are to be a screenwriter. You need to take a class.”

So I did. I signed up for night classes at UCLA Extension. That would change everything and propel me further into Hollywood.

I did finally learn what sides are and even used them later. But she was wrong, you don’t need to know what sides are to be a screenwriter, just an actor!  (hint: like most things in movie making it’s a strange word for something pretty normal. In this case, pieces of paper, or parts of the script that is sent to the actor to audition)

Back to school:

I had so many choices for classes at UCLA Extension (night courses). I chose to take the most interesting one.  It said “Make a Short-Fiction film.” It was going to teach screenwriting, producing, and directing all in one. What a bargain for only $700!  I thought they would pay for the film and everything. I was so naïve.

The class was actually broken into three parts.  The first one had a lot of guest speakers, we watched a lot of short films, and had an overview of filmmaking. Then, you had to apply to the second class where they would focus in on the skills of making a short film.  Third, you had to apply again to be chosen to actually make the films and be guided along the way. That was the best part because then in the fall they held a screening for big shots in Hollywood to see your film and start your new awesome career.  Of course, the actual film would have to come out of your own pocket and even the cost of each section of the class increased.

I loved hearing what people said about making their films and how, always after 15 years, their careers really got started. Some of the professors had even won Oscars.  But when they asked who wanted to be a writer, almost all hands went up, including mine. When they asked who wanted to be a director, tons of hands went up and I left mine down. “Who wants to be a producer?”  Three or four hands, so I threw mine up. Why not?  Then I was swarmed by the other two categories. They gave me screenplays so I could be the producer on their project. Screenwriting would have to wait, I thought.

I choose one movie because it spoke to me. It took place in a foreign country – I love to travel and immerse myself in other cultures.  It had a lonely woman, just like the big breakup I was finally starting to heal from by finding my new passion in life, I could relate to her wanting to be alone.  And best yet, it was just an idea. The “director” wanted/needed someone to write it, so I did.  I was now a producer and writer. I made business cards to say that. That was a great career decision.