ahream

(Promised Pia Zadora post coming soon. First, a late-breaking news alert.)

Hollywood is peeing itself right now.

The Writers Guild is on strike. The powers-that-be wanted the Guild, which represents all television and screenwriters, to accept a contract that cut them out of all payment for movies and shows distributed through the internet. So if you went to Best Buy and bought a DVD, the writer would get paid. If you downloaded the same movie online, the writer wouldn’t get paid. Which is what we call, in official writer-ese, total crap-ola.

So no writer in Hollywood went to work yesterday or today. Shows are starting to shut down. A friend of mine works on “The Office,” and their star Steve Carell has refused to cross the line as have some members of the Teamsters Local 399. (And anyone in this town will tell you, you do not piss off the Teamsters. Pissing off the Teamsters is a little like provoking the wrath of God, but without the mercy and forgiveness parts.)

I’m not a member of the Writers Guild. I’m strictly novels, and we’re not covered. (Although, I’d take a little contract work from them any day of the week and twice on Sunday if they offered.) Nonetheless, I’m down with the writer-hood. Those are my peeps. Their scripts are the foundation on which an entire industry is built. And still they get no respect.

Until they strike. Then Hollywood pees itself.

“What do we want? Fair pay! When do we want it? Now!”

ahream Dispatches from the City of Angels I'm a mystery writer living in and writing about Los Angeles. You can catch my short story, "Running Venice," in the new anthology LAndmarked for Murder. Look for it in bookstores and on Amazon.com now. In the meantime, feel free to poke around. Over at my website you can find even more blog entries than I could fit here, as well as a few other ramblings. Enjoy and come back often.
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Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (1) Most Recent Twitters: Reading Tony Broadbent's book, The Smoke. It's too good. I'm losing sleep. Nocturnal pattern shot to hell. Productivity declining. L.A. Finds: The Denver omelet at Pat's in Topanga is sublime in its simplicity. Exactly what you need and nothing else, much like the restaurant itself snuggled smack in the middle of an old hippie community where the peace signs and tie-dye still reign. Flickr Updates: The second Thursday of every month is the Downtown Art Walk. The galleries stay open late, the restaurants are packed, bands perform on the streets. God, I love L.A. What I'm Reading: The Smoke by Tony Broadbent What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami Want E-Mail Updates? Click here, type your e-mail address into the first field (for public entries) and receive an e-mail note each time a new blog post goes up. (Photo updates, Twitters and "L.A. Finds" features not included. Those you have to swing by and check yourself.) Absolutely, positively no spam. Promise. Other author blogs: Sue Ann Jaffarian Eric Stone Christa Faust Lipstick Chronicles		2007-11-06 12:32 PM I’m down with the writer-hood (Promised Pia Zadora post coming soon. First, a late-breaking news alert.) Hollywood is peeing itself right now. The Writers Guild is on strike. The powers-that-be wanted the Guild, which represents all television and screenwriters, to accept a contract that cut them out of all payment for movies and shows distributed through the internet. So if you went to Best Buy and bought a DVD, the writer would get paid. If you downloaded the same movie online, the writer wouldn’t get paid. Which is what we call, in official writer-ese, total crap-ola. So no writer in Hollywood went to work yesterday or today. Shows are starting to shut down. A friend of mine works on “The Office,” and their star Steve Carell has refused to cross the line as have some members of the Teamsters Local 399. (And anyone in this town will tell you, you do not piss off the Teamsters. Pissing off the Teamsters is a little like provoking the wrath of God, but without the mercy and forgiveness parts.) I’m not a member of the Writers Guild. I’m strictly novels, and we’re not covered. (Although, I’d take a little contract work from them any day of the week and twice on Sunday if they offered.) Nonetheless, I’m down with the writer-hood. Those are my peeps. Their scripts are the foundation on which an entire industry is built. And still they get no respect. Until they strike. Then Hollywood pees itself. “What do we want? Fair pay! When do we want it? Now!” Read/Post Comments (1) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top