Okay, so this is a crazy story.
So five or so years ago I wrote a screenplay with my good friend Julie-then-Golden-now-Dubensky. And to celebrate the fact that we had finished it and it was now out to producers where it would then sell for millions of dollars in a bidding war, we went to Barneys to buy some makeup. What we really wanted were shoes, but we behaved ourselves.
So we're being helped by this very nice guy named Ozzie at the Nars counter and this girl walks by who Julie knows, who, I find out after the fact, also used to be an exec, and who, like us, is now also a screenwriter. And she tells us how she and her writing partner just handed in a rewrite and as I listen, I try not to feel too inferior about the fact that this girl is apparently a working-writer-who-gets-checks-sent-to-her-occasionally while I am still a working-but-not-getting-any-checks writer.
Fast forward: the spec script that was going to make us millions of dollars doesn't sell, I start writing books, move to NY, blah blah blah. One of those books - GEEK CHARMING - gets set up at Disney Channel and these two screenwriters, Hilary Galanoy and Elizabeth Hackett are hired to adapt it. Around the same time, the spec script that's been gathering dust for a few years in my computer (okay, fine, it's probably not gathering dust...it's...dying of lack of light) gets set up as a movie at ABC Family, which means that in addition to my books I have to write, in addition to my MTV exec duties, I now have to rewrite the script with Julie. And hopefully finish it in 22 days before she goes in for her scheduled C-section and comes home with a baby boy. But I'm not complaining about all the work I have to do because I am well aware that these are very high class problems and people would chew off their left arm to have my life even though if they did that, it would make it very hard for them to type and get the work done.
So tonight, I'm working on the rewrite, and I get an email from my friend Robyn who tells me that in small world fashion, her friend Elizabeth is adapting my book. And later I'm on the phone with Julie and I bring that up and Julie reminds me that the girl we ran into at Barneys that day? It was Hilary.
So it turns out that I met the woman who would be adapting my novel years before it was even written. And while they're adapting my book, I'm working on a rewrite of a script that I was pretty concerned would never see the light of day.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
What I Did This Weekend by Robin Palmer
1. Spend a good chunk of Saturday in my pajamas waiting for fedex to deliver my bakers rack because I don't have a doorman and therefore have to do everything.
2. Bake fig bars, compliments of my new idol The Pioneer Woman's apricot bar recipe.
3. Fantasize that one day I might become PIoneer Woman-like and be (a) that funny and (b) that good of a cook.
4. Assemble bakers rack upon its arrival. Break a few nails in process. Try not to wallow in disappointment when it turns out to not be as grand as the picture on Amazon.com.
5. Spend time thinking about taking photo of assembled bakers rack to post here because I'm so proud of myself before deciding that borders on pathetic.
5. Invite my friend Laurina over for the orange chicken with figs and golden raisins I am intending to make that night, because, now that I am a Cook, I can (a) cook such grand-sounding meals and (b) have people over for dinner.
6. Receive text back that she'd love to come for dinner...but she's a vegetarian.
7. Spend a few moments annoyed that people can't put their vegetarian ways aside every once in a while, especially for such a grand-sounding meal that I'm about to slave away over.
8. Resort to my previous non-Cook ways and text her back that we can just order in takeout instead.
9. Have a yoga-induced inspiration that I can make lentil soup and a salad instead because part of being a Cook is learning how to improvise on the fly and not resort to takeout or microwaveable Weight Watchers box dinner.
10. Prepare lentil soup and salad which, according to Laurina, is "very good" but what the hell else is she going to say when she's sitting on my couch and I've just fed her. However, the fig bars are "awesome" and I know she's not lying about that because I've already tested them by eating three.
11. Decide I really don't like the Cleaning Up part of being a Cook but I do it anyway.
12. Post Sunday evening yoga, finally cook the orange chicken with figs and golden raisins even though (a) it won't be ready until 9pm and (b) realize as I'm cooking it that I could feed a small country which is why my coworkers at MTV will be thanking me the next day.
13. Wonder how I'm going to prevent myself from gaining 20 pounds now that I'm a Cook.
14. Speak to my father, who asks what sort of white light, spiritual experience I had that has turned me into a Cook. I have no answer.
15. Go to sleep full and happy...with a prayer that I sell a ton of books so that I can afford a new apartment with a real kitchen instead of the Betty Crocker-sized one that I have now.
2. Bake fig bars, compliments of my new idol The Pioneer Woman's apricot bar recipe.
3. Fantasize that one day I might become PIoneer Woman-like and be (a) that funny and (b) that good of a cook.
4. Assemble bakers rack upon its arrival. Break a few nails in process. Try not to wallow in disappointment when it turns out to not be as grand as the picture on Amazon.com.
5. Spend time thinking about taking photo of assembled bakers rack to post here because I'm so proud of myself before deciding that borders on pathetic.
5. Invite my friend Laurina over for the orange chicken with figs and golden raisins I am intending to make that night, because, now that I am a Cook, I can (a) cook such grand-sounding meals and (b) have people over for dinner.
6. Receive text back that she'd love to come for dinner...but she's a vegetarian.
7. Spend a few moments annoyed that people can't put their vegetarian ways aside every once in a while, especially for such a grand-sounding meal that I'm about to slave away over.
8. Resort to my previous non-Cook ways and text her back that we can just order in takeout instead.
9. Have a yoga-induced inspiration that I can make lentil soup and a salad instead because part of being a Cook is learning how to improvise on the fly and not resort to takeout or microwaveable Weight Watchers box dinner.
10. Prepare lentil soup and salad which, according to Laurina, is "very good" but what the hell else is she going to say when she's sitting on my couch and I've just fed her. However, the fig bars are "awesome" and I know she's not lying about that because I've already tested them by eating three.
11. Decide I really don't like the Cleaning Up part of being a Cook but I do it anyway.
12. Post Sunday evening yoga, finally cook the orange chicken with figs and golden raisins even though (a) it won't be ready until 9pm and (b) realize as I'm cooking it that I could feed a small country which is why my coworkers at MTV will be thanking me the next day.
13. Wonder how I'm going to prevent myself from gaining 20 pounds now that I'm a Cook.
14. Speak to my father, who asks what sort of white light, spiritual experience I had that has turned me into a Cook. I have no answer.
15. Go to sleep full and happy...with a prayer that I sell a ton of books so that I can afford a new apartment with a real kitchen instead of the Betty Crocker-sized one that I have now.
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