Casper, the Friendly Ghostwriter

by

10777015
Meet the anonymous ghostwriter of OAKDALE CONFIDENTIAL,  a tie-in novel celebrating the 50th anniversary of AS THE WORLD TURNS. He/She has a new blog where he/she talks about the wonderful world of ghostwriting and tie-ins (and no, it’s not me). What’s unusual about this particular tie-in is that the book itself has become a plot point in the  show:

…the characters of fictional
Oakdale USA are going to be all up in arms, wondering who wrote this
scandalous, sexy, anonymous novel. The story will play out on air for
weeks, and eventually lead to many complications in the lives of
Oakdale’s favorite couples. I know who really wrote “Oakdale
Confidential.” But it’s doubtful I’ll ever get the chance to jump up
and down yelling, “Me, me, me, it was me, send the kudos this way!”

I
don’t mind. I knew what I was getting into and I’m proud of my work as
well as the show it’s associated with. But a nameless, faceless writer
needs some forum in which to blow off the steam of keeping their
identity a secret…

[…]In addition to ghost-writing "Oakdale Confidential," I am also blogging as Katie, the on-the-show writer, on Amazon. 

[…]And when I’m not being Katie, I am blogging as Luke, a sixteen year old boy agonizing over how to come out to his parents, the show’s supercouple, Holden and Lily Snyder.

This is one busy ghost.

TV According to Javi

by

"All writing for television is pretty much excruciating because I think most of us would much rather be  sitting at home googling ourselves all day than actually writing." 

"It’s very tedious being a writer on the set because all you’re doing is sitting around waiting for someone to hate something. It’s like sitting there with your fire extinquisher waiting for the fire. It’s not fun."

That’s some of the knowledge and truths that my friend Javi, Emmy-award winning supervising producer of LOST imparts in a wide-ranging, informative and very, very entertaining Q&A about TV writing at the University of Michigan. You can watch it for yourself here.

Story Bullshit

by

Screenwriter Josh Friedman blogs about the time he was offered the chance by a good friend to write the screenplay for a "go" movie for an International Star.

All I had to do was meet the star, hear
the movie he wanted to make, and nod my head. The job was mine. That
was it. […]

After some small talk, I settled in to hear the movie. What happened
next was forty-five of the most entertaining and annoying minutes I
have ever spent in the film business. International Star stood across
from me and proceeded to act the movie out, giving me examples of
action scenes, stunts, sight gags, etc. He never stopped moving for the
better part of an hour.

And here’s what he kept saying the entire time:

INTERNATIONAL
STAR: So…we have a bar scene first. Maybe…a bar fight? Six men
against me…I’ll balance on a chair like this…take out all six…do
my funny International Star thing…maybe drink their drinks…then we
have some story bullshit…After that…I rescue this girl from…the
whorehouse? Maybe bandits…I’ll do my funny International Star
thing…like with this chair here…Then some story bullshit…and I
find this other girl tied up…there’s a chair gag…then some story
bullshit…

Here’s the conversation I have in the car with my friend afterwards.

FRIEND: So…you’re in, right? It’s fucking awesome, right?
ME: You’ve gotta be kidding me.
FRIEND: What?
ME: Story bullshit? STORY BULLSHIT? My part in all this is…story bullshit?
FRIEND: Oh don’t be so senstiive. That’s just International Star. He’s…international.
ME: He refers to my job as bullshit.
FRIEND: Which is exactly why I need you. You’ll make it better than bullshit.
ME: No way. Not doing it.
FRIEND: You HAVE TO.
ME: I don’t, actually.
FRIEND: I already told him you would.
ME: What!
FRIEND: I told him you’d do it. I told him you were perfect. He’ll take it as a personal affront.
ME: I don’t care.
FRIEND: I stuck my neck out for you. You can’t fuck me like this.
ME: I’m afraid I am fucking you like this.

And so I did.

Two weeks later I got this phone call from my friend:

FRIEND: So. I just wanted to give you an update on the International Star thing.
ME: Look, I’m sorry if I made you look bad–
FRIEND: Don’t worry. I fixed it. We hired someone else.
ME: Good. That’s great. How did you–?
FRIEND:
I told him that I had second thoughts about you. That after thinking
about it I decided you weren’t a good enough writer for the project.
ME: Wow. You’re fucking good.
FRIEND: Aren’t I?

His latest blog post, in late March, refers to his then-upcoming surgery for cancer.  It got him pondering some other "story bullshit" — what his eulogy might be:

I’ve spent the last twenty-five years composing my own eulogy. I’ve
never written it down, never even started it. But I’ve written it a
thousand times in my head. Ever since I was young I’ve been obsessed
with all aspects of my funeral. Who would speak, Who would be
there…What they would say…Where it would be held, what kind of
music would I choose…What kind of food would be served at the
afterparty…I’m an incredibly arrogant sonuvabitch, and it probably
won’t surprise you to know my funeral’s a pretty tough ticket it’s so
fucking crowded with mourners.

I’ve brought myself to tears
dozens of times with this masturbatory/fetishistic reimagining of my
final words washing out over the assembled masses. Sometimes funny,
chiding yet touching, my eulogy at all times insightful and peaceful
and reassuring to the thousands who have gathered to mark the passing
of one of the great unheard voices of a generation.

Words.

My ultimate words.

At the end of the day, why do we write? We write to remember, we write
to be remembered, we write to discover who we are, or determine it for
others. Our words will always outlive us, immortalizing us if not
always powerful enough to make us immortal. Although if we choose our
words well, there will always be a way back to life, a way to and fro
through time. Someone will always feel us like it was yesterday,
someone will smell our skin again, if we choose our words well.

If we choose our words well there need not always be a last. If we choose our words well there will always be a way to find us.

I have chosen my words. They are:

There are motherfucking snakes on the motherfucking plane.

I don’t know Josh, but I hope his surgery went well and I wish him the very best.

Why Couldn’t the New York Times Have Said This?

by

I love it when people stay up all night reading my books. This came today from The Shaudy Life:

For some reason, I am awake. It’s 4 in the am, and I am still awake.
Just got done reading Lee Goldberg’s and William Rabkin’s "Successful
Television Screenwriting." Fabulous book!!! Absolutely amazing! I’ve
never read an industry book that I haven’t been able to put down, even
if it’s a topic I’m really interested in. They’ve got humor and wit.
And they’re a little cynical and neurotic, which makes me more
comfortable with being cynical and neurotic, myself. Fantastic book.

Thanks, Nina!

Maybe I Should Have Gone Into the Furniture Business Afterall…

by

It isn’t easy making a living as a writer…and it’s getting harder, as the Independent reports (via POD-dy Mouth). Here are some excerpts:

Publishers have been forced to protect their profits by reducing
costs throughout their businesses. At first this meant redundancies,
consolidation and cutting production costs. But such have been the
rapacious demands of retailers that publishers have been forced to save
money on the riskiest part of their business: books. That’s why authors
are feeling the pinch.

Midlist authors who had sold in steady but unspectacular numbers
felt the impact first. Their sales were undermined by the decline in
library budgets. Once sales to these institutions fell away, they
became far less attractive to large publishing houses, the economics of
which make small books that sell in the few hundreds unsustainable.

Large publishers scythed through their lists.

[…] "The market has shrunk dramatically," says agent Luigi Bonomi.
"Advances are either very big or very small with nothing in the
middle." Orion paid £800,000 for Diane Setterfield’s The Thirteenth
Tale; but according to the Society of Authors, the harsh truth is that
the average advance rarely climbs above £12,000 for a two-book deal,
and authors’ annual incomes are under pressure – the average author
earns less than £7,000 a year.

In a somewhat related item, GRADUATE author Charles Webb is bankrupt.

Charles Webb, the novelist who based the couple on himself and his
long-term female partner, Fred, wrote the basis for a hugely successful
film but made one serious tactical error. He accepted a £14,000 one-off
payment for his work, and then watched the film take £60 million at the
box office. The wise generally go for the percentage, but material
wealth, he says defensively, has never meant much to him. It is just that he could do with some right now.

Webb and Fred, who settled in Britain six years ago after
emigrating from America, received a letter from their landlord last
week telling them to expect an eviction notice because they are two
months behind in their rent. Webb is hoping that a well-wisher will
offer them a place to stay while he finds a buyer for his latest works.

(via Bookslut via The Guardian)

Authors in the Sun

by

The Palm Springs Festival of Books is coming this Saturday and features a bevy of bestselling authors (and me).  Authors include Dale Brown, Gregg Hurwitz, Thom Racina, Steve Alten, Loraine Despres, Senator Barbara Boxer, Taffy Cannon, Tab Hunter, Cloris Leachman, DP Lyle, Phyllis Diller, Susan McDougal, Theresa Schwegal, Barbara Seranella, Bill Fitzhugh, Nichelle Tramble, and John Morgan Wilson, to name a few.  But the big event is novelist Christopher Rice in conversation with his mother, international bestselling author Anne Rice. 

I’ll be there talking about medical mysteries with my buddy Doug Lyle, author of FORENSICS FOR DUMMIES, and discussing humor in mysteries with Thom Racina, Taffy Cannon, and JJ & Bette Lamb. The funniest thing about the humor panel is that it’s opposite Chris and his Mom, so I guess the joke is on us. (One year at the Las Vegas Valley Book Fest, I had a panel opposite John Irving in conversation with Roger Simon…guess which of the two events was attended only by me and three homeless people).

You’re Not My Hero

by

Today I came across two opposing views on the "re-imagining" of pop culture properties. First, my friend Javi says live with it — recasting is an inevitable part of an industry that recycles everything:

In a culture where everything is re-made and re-hashed over and over
again, i can understand why people would get so mad about daniel craig becoming the new james bond, or brandon routh the new superman or david tennant the new doctor who (any hartnell loyalists out there? c’mon – express yourselves!). People crave stability in their heroes and the values they embody – and re-hashing and re-casting takes that way.  I get it.  I can even understand the good-natured argument between friends about how the only man ever to really capture the spirit of superman was kirk alyn, and the occasional shocking revelation that someone who’s opinion
you respect actually thinks that george lazenby’s work in “on her majesty’s secret service” has been shockingly under-appreciated…

…what i don’t understand is the all-pervasive vitriol – why put up web pages full of heated invective about craig’s perceived shortcomings? why the long angry treatises about how “the character is named ‘starbuck’ – not ‘stardoe!’” why all the keening wails over how some callous money grubbing producer “ruined my childhood?” why the nasty public outcry over michael keaton putting on the mask and cowl? why all the death threats about how michael shanks was no james spader? oh wait – there weren’t any, moving on.

…but the fact is we live in a society where everything is re-made, re-hashed and re-packaged endlessly – which means your idols can be frozen in time indefinitely. no need to put up a protest site, i
can just curl up in a sofa and watch my dvd of “octopussy…”

John Kenneth Muir doesn’t agree. Despite all the accolades that the new BATTLESTAR GALACTICA has been getting (including a Peabody Award), he thinks they should call it something else.

To reiterate my stance on Galactica: It’s well-written and I can enjoy an episode any time in much the same way I enjoy the tense 24. However, my problem begins and ends with the fact that it’s called Battlestar Galactica. The original series has been used as a "brand name" by Ron Moore to do something totally new, something unfaithful, something he wanted to do. That’s fine, and some people obviously like what he’s done very much. But it shouldn’t be called Battlestar Galactica

Why not? It’s still BATTLESTAR GALACTICA…with a few tweaks (for the better, by the way). Roger Moore’s James Bond is still James Bond, whether you like the portrayal or not. I’m with Javi in this debate (I don’t know how anyone could look at the new BG and pine for the old one, but that’s another subject).

By the way, LIVE AND LET DIE was my first 007 movie, too, and I loved it (hey, I think I was 10 at the time). But then I saw GOLDFINGER and it was a revelation. James Bond became my hero (and still is). That said, I still eagerly awaited each new 007 movie — and enjoyed them –even as I was rediscovering the early ones (this was before home video…I had to wait for the Connery Bonds to show up in revival theatres or on TV).  I was able to see them as two distinctly different experiences — the Roger Moore Bonds and the Sean Connery Bonds — and enjoy them for what they were (not any more. I cringe watching the Moore Bonds).

I can’t wait to see Daniel Craig in CASINO ROYALE. But the truth is, I’d be dying to see it no matter who was starring as 007 (Clive Owen, Julian McMahon, etc.). Because I’m a James Bond geek. Even at my ripe old age, I’m still a little kid when it comes to Bond…

UPDATE 4-18-07: John comments at length on the reaction to his original post. Here are some excerpts:

Read more

I Hope My Mom isn’t Expecting a Mercedes For Her Birthday

by

Dadwithlotus
My cousin Sam Barer wrote in his Olympian car column (yes, my family is full of writers) about the incredible surprise gift that he and his brother Joe gave to their father Arnie at his 70th birthday party:

Joe and I got up and roasted our father with a series of limericks. Finally, we invited Dad up to read the last one. "For all the love you’ve shown us and Mom, live your dreams before they’re gone. We hold the keys to your heart and we just hope it starts. Enjoy your ’64 Lotus Elan." I dropped the keys into our shocked father’s hands and then escorted him (and our stunned mother) to the bright red, series one roadster I’d snuck into the parking lot outside…

What a great gift. Maddie, if you’re reading this, you can start saving up now for my ’59 Caddy convertible.

Why I Blog on Amazon

by

I have an Amazon blog. It doesn’t take much effort to maintain, since it mainly consists of  "repurposed" material originally posted here. The blog can be read as a stand-alone "Lee Goldberg blog," or my posts can show up, along with those of other authors, in a reader’s "plog" on your Amazon home page.  I get a couple dozen positive "votes" from readers on each new post, but still I wondered if enough people were reading my Amazon blog to make it worthwhile and if  it made any difference in the way people viewed me or my books. Now I know. I got this comment from Karen Oberst, a librarian in Oregon:

We get a lot of plogs, since as a library we order a great deal from
Amazon. However, the only ones I look forward to are the ones by Lee
Goldberg. I so appreciate the backstage look at both the television
industry, and how the writing is done. Thanks, Lee for your informative
posts, and for taking the time to update them so often.

The comment made my day. I never knew that libraries bought books on Amazon. The comment also told me that people are reading the Amazon posts and that maintaining the "Readers Digest" version of this blog over there is doing me some good.