Avery O Williams, writer - producer

My Crack, And Yours

2011-02-15T11:46:00.000-05:00

Let me put this out there: I have never used crack. And I feel ultimately confident that I never will use crack. There.

That being said, I admit I do sometimes understand the need to have one's senses revved up and the brain cells firing on all cylinders. (Supposedly that's what crack and some other illegal drugs do for some people.) As writers gaping at the blank page or anybody else who stares into the white space of a Google query or at a growing stack of paperwork to sort through, we often find ourselves in these soul-dampened, brain numbing moods. At these times it feels easier to take a nap or lay about on the couch watching "Jersey Shore." So how do you kick start your batteries to put you in that Rocky workout montage mind set where you feel ultimately confident, charged up and ready to fly now-- without smoking crack?

It varies for every person, but identifying your personal battery chargers can be key to achieving success.

We all get down, tired, sluggish, weary, anxiety worried and just damn lazy at times. Yet, there is a consistent part of our brain that knows we must get off our ass, write the pages, be focused, make smart decisions and maximize each minute in our day so we can ultimately finish the screenplay, get the movie made, publish the book, sort through those papers so we can take that trip, purchase that car or buy a beach house on a Jersey shore. Whatever.

In the next few posts I will share with you my crack supply.

These are things that keep me fired up and moving when I don't feel like doing the right thing. Perhaps these tricks of my trade can help you too, or at the very least, help you identify what your particular crack is. I do not condone the use of illegal drugs, but if some of these tips make sense, if they can be an emotional or mind lifting drug to help you achieve all that you dream, then by all means, puff puff, pass (it on).

Stay tuned!

Writer's Addiction

2011-01-24T10:58:00.000-05:00

We all know the Internet is an amazing, powerful tool. With it, we're getting close to that Star Trek onboard computer where you ask it anything and you'll get some kind of answer. (Trekkie sidebar: I'm really waiting for the holodeck!) However, for all its collective wisdom, cool things to do, read and interact with, the Internet can be a dangerously addictive distraction for writers.

Most times, after you've read your email, tweeted and checked your Facebook account, your most probable foray into the cyber universe is labeled under "research." And it all starts so innocently. You tip toe into that Google portal (still don't understand why I should use Bing) searching for a list of Ben Franklin's 13 Virtues and before you can say, heavens to murgatroid, you find yourself spiraling through an Internet wormhole taking you to fifteen new sites that have nothing to do with your "research," reading celebrity web sites and even landing on some order page whipping out your credit card.

So, how to prevent being sucked down the Internet rabbit hole? Let me offer a few suggestions:

1. Set your computer clock to announce the time. I've got mine set at 30 minute intervals. Oftentimes all it takes is her (yes I've personalized it) shouting the time to awaken me to the fact that I started "research" a half hour ago and I still haven't returned to my script.

2. Close all those open tabs. The more tabs you have open, the easier it is to just flip into that world rather than working out the mechanics of a difficult scene.

3. Create an Internet Want To Do List. This can be a physical pad on your desk or a computer file with bookmarks. Whatever works for you. If you find an interesting site, just jot it down and come back later. Trust me it'll be there.

4. Fight for Focus. Look at Internet time wasting as addictive. And like any addict you will oftentimes convince yourself that I'll only look at this one Facebook page, click this one button or read this one celebrity photo. However, you must constantly fight temptation and remind yourself of what you should really be doing with your time at this particular moment.

Don't fool yourself. Admit that you have an addiction; then write. That's the fix. And keep in mind that the world, and yes the Internet too, is waiting--hungrily waiting-- for your wonderful work. But you have to get it done first. Now get off this blog and go write something. I'll be here with something new when you get back.

Want to Make a Good Movie? Beware the Bells and Whistles

2011-01-11T20:02:00.002-05:00

When I told a wannabe filmmaker that the focus of Morehouse College's new Cinema, Television and Emerging Media Studies program (CTEMS) was to teach undergrad students the fundamental elements of storytelling through a heavy emphasis on writing, he responded, "Just give those kids some cameras and let 'em shoot. That's how they'll learn." HE COULDN'T BE MORE WRONG!

For the past several years, much of the work produced by aspiring filmmakers has displayed a whiz-bang gee-doesn't that look cool approach but has been utterly deficient in presenting multi-dimensional characters, unique stories, solid plotting, emotional engagement and direction that doesn't purposely draw attention to the director. Most of these movies are blandly derivative or thinly veiled music videos at best.

And why is that?

Director Seith Mann

Too many film aspirants are getting sucked into the vortex of the toys--the bells and whistles and software niceties that can make your 95-year old grandma look like a filmmaker. Don't get me wrong. I love the toys. In fact, I use them myself. But they should never be used at the expense of presenting an engaging story. These bells and whistles are meant to help the filmmaker to tell the story and not be a story unto themselves! Wow, look at the cool way the picture flashes from one color to the next. Help me Muse.

Allow me to illustrate my point a bit more. The first is a short film I recently stumbled across from director Seith Mann entitled Five Deep Breaths. I'll set out the link below. It's an excellent example of amazing storytelling where the bells and whistles serve the movie and the director is not drawing attention to himself. It's gritty, character based, the tempo is right and he takes some cinematic chances (check out the vocals on the jazz score "humm, humm...)

The second example is a short ditty I created during Atlanta's recent snow storm. It's not a tale of great importance or weight but it's an example of how you can create a story using the simplest of tools. Except for one panning shot that I asked a stranger to do, I shot this entirely myself using Cisco's tiny Flip Video camera. I used existing light, in-camera sound and I only used Flip's simple software to do some minor editing.

It was quick, easy, and told a tale without all the bells and whistles of the toys.

See "Five Deep Breaths" (Part 1)
See "Five Deep Breaths" (Part 2)

Our Golden Voices

2011-01-06T09:30:00.000-05:00

A news story this morning touched me emotionally. Since I am incredibly macho and swarthy, I am loathe to use the word tears. But suffice it to say, I had not been moved in such a manner since mean old Mister dragged sweet little Nettie away from Celie in The Color Purple.

But this morning's story was no work of fiction. It was about a homeless man named Ted Williams with an amazing radio-announcer voice. The story briefly goes like this:

Ted, a Brooklyn native, had a fairly successful career in radio. Alcohol and drug addiction took hold of him in the mid-80's and life went downhill. He lost his house, apparently his family too and moved to Ohio. A few criminal violations ensued resulting in a arrests and Ted Williams quickly became part of the homeless population--one of those guys standing on the side of the road with a cardboard sign.

A local reporter, upon passing by and reading Ted's sign that stated he had "a golden voice," gave him an impromptu audition. The videotape of that audition was loaded onto the Internet and within days it spread like a California hillside fire. Soon offers from the Cleveland Cavaliers to Kraft Foods came pouring in requesting Ted's golden voice. It even brought him to the Today Show where he delivered the show's intro and sat down for an interview with Matt Lauer and Meredith Viera this morning. Here's what grabbed me about Ted's story.

After watching an interview of a politician this morning and seeing her shallow dodgy positioning of questions from Meredith, I appreciated Ted's humbleness and honesty. When Matt and Meredith asked him the what happened to you question, Ted did not hesitate to say it was drug and alcohol addiction. He took ownership and didn't blame anybody, anything or Bobby Brown. He was the maker of his own undoing. But the story doesn't stop there for me. Although chance and circumstance played a big part, Ted Williams was also the architect of his own amazing rebound.

How is that? He stayed prepared. Although he was on the street, Ted was always ready to show what he could do, demonstrate that golden voice and be up for any opportunity, including an impromptu roadside audition. On the Today Show when they tossed him an announcing task, Ted responded without hesitation. And finally, cemented by a newfound faith in God, Ted Williams never gave up hope.

Here's the lesson for us.

1. Take ownership. When I don't write those pages in a given day I cannot blame it on the girlfriend, the kids, the weather, the Internet, or writer's block. It is me who didn't feel like getting up, who got distracted by Facebook, who had to watch this TV show, or take a nap, or, or... it is me.

2. Be ready. Opportunity is out there, walking the street, randomly knocking on doors. When opportunity knocks, you don't have time to go pack a bag and put on flip-flops because when you return, opportunity will be gone. Rather, keep the flip-flops on and a packed bag by the door by having a spec script already complete, a treatment written and fully developed ideas ready to pitch.

3. Don't Hesitate. Years ago, I lost an opportunity to write a commercial for Coca-Cola because I spent DAYS pulling together my "creative team" to help me come up with an idea. I didn't trust myself to do it on my own. By the time a great idea came to mind (which happened when I was alone!) the opportunity had passed. When someone wants you to write something or work with them on a story idea do it now. Those brain cells have to fire up immediately and you have to show yourself as a story, character, plot, cinema, literature, film expert NOW, not later. "Let me think on that" is a comfort zone we cannot not afford to wallow in.

4. Have Faith. Oftentimes it seems like we'll never get to where our dreams once lifted us. We feel too old, too tired, too busy and just too far behind. Ted in his fifties, was on the street and now, in a matter of days, he's on top of the world. It happens to people everyday. And it CAN happen for you too. But you must, repeat, must believe it. Crossed, the movie I wrote with Heavy D, will be made. Chances, the script Nia Long and I crafted, will be shot. Alley Cats, the sketch comedy show, will be sold. Bach, A Monster will be sold and made. Each day I rise, feeling as if THIS will be the day. And if it happens not to be, then it just puts me one day closer to the fruition of those dreams and work.

It's all a matter of an undying faith in God and a constant belief that if we keep doing all the right things, like Ted Williams, our golden voices will be heard too.

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Watch the video that launched Williams to fame

Are You A "Claimer"?

2011-01-05T17:10:00.000-05:00

In this entertainment field I run across people all the time who claim they are something (writer, director, dancer, editor, etcetera) but I rarely see them actually perform what they claim to be. Well, let me be fair. They may do it sometimes, but they don't do it with consistency.

If you are dancer, you have to dance--and not just at the shake-booty club on the weekends. If you are an actor, you must act. Producer, please produce. And you writers, thou must write. The flip side is this: If you do nothing and just constantly claim to do something, then you are a "claimer." It's that simple. You are what you do.

"But what if there are no jobs out there for me?"

Do it anyway.

I didn't say you have to be paid for it. Writing and dancing are the easiest. A writer just needs a pen and paper; and a dancer needs, well, I guess just a solid pair of feet. (And that's even circumspect because didn't they have a one-legged dancer on "Dancing With The Stars?") If you are an actor, FIND avenues to ply your craft: community theater, backyard productions, cheap commercials--whatever. Directors and Producers: you too-- FIND something to direct and produce. If necessary use your cell phone's video camera to direct a tiny short video. Perhaps you, the producer and the actor can get together. While you're at it, recruit the writer to pen a script and the dancer to perform in it. The bottom line: DO SOMETHING. A cell phone video is beats a zero any day.

Back to you writers. If you truly are a writer, you must FINISH your work. Don't just crank out a few pages and leave them undone on your hard drive or dusty shelf. Get to "the end," because then, and only then, can you claim to be a writer. Remember, you are a wordsmith who crafts a beginning, middle AND and an end. Does a car maker only make the front end of car?

And here's the added beauty in all this. Once you actually do what you say you do, there are people out there who will pay you to do it, and pay you again, and again. I know. I'm a witness. Now go write something, or dance, or produce, or design or... claim.

Hanging Out With Clint Eastwood

2010-12-30T08:26:00.000-05:00

Reprint of a post written March 23, 2007.

LA Diary #25: "Hanging With Clint"

This past Wednesday I drove into the underground parking garage of the Director’s Guild of America building and pulled into the space one of the attendants had directed me to. It was somebody’s reserved parking space but only during work hours. Now it was 7:15 pm. I was there to attend a “friends and family” screening of a movie called “Pride.” Kevin Phillips, one of the film’s co-stars, who I first met when he was dating Nia Long, invited me. Later I got to know Kevin better when he and one of his other “Pride” co-stars, Alphonso McAuley, hired me to write a script on an idea they had.

I thought since this was a “friends and family” screening I would see clusters of black moms and grandmas and friends from the hood looking wide-eyed with excitement at being at real life Hollywood event! But as I boarded the elevator with a group of white men and women I could see I would probably be wrong. Most of the men appeared to be in their thirties with well trimmed beards and just enough gel in their hair to look fashionably tousled. The women were slender, mostly blondes, wide-eyed, chewing on gum and smiling with over-bleached teeth at something supposedly witty the men had said aloud or whispered in their ears. Everyone wore something black—a sports coat, pants, dress— de rigueur for Hollywood events. I had on jeans, a black jacket and black New York Yankees cap pulled low onto my head. Hardly any of the men wore caps. I wondered why I wore one—it certainly wasn’t cold outside. Maybe it was my personal roof, with an overhang, to hide under and peek out from.

About a hundred people meandered in the large open lobby of the DGA. A group clustered around Terrence Howard, the star of the film. He was smiling and shaking hands. I didn’t recognize anybody else although I heard later on that Cuba Gooding Jr and Eva Longoria were there. I skirted around the crowd and made my way to the check-in table. There is always a moment of nervousness whenever I have to do this. What if they did not have my name? How, after they check and re-check the list then give me that puppy dog look and say, “Sorry Mr. Williams, your name is not here,” do I walk away with dignity while people all around me snigger at my disgrace? But they had my name. I took my one ticket (I was alone) and turned to meld into the crowd of the black and bleached teeth.

Melinda Williams

“Hey!” a woman’s voice jumped out at me. I looked at her very slender face. She struggled with my name and then eventually got it. “Avery Williams, right?” I couldn’t pull hers from my memory. “Lisa Sorenson,” she said, obviously not waiting for me to remember.

“Yes, of course!” I said. I sounded phony without intending to. She was sitting next to Melinda Williams, her sister, and an actress on the TV series, “Soul Food.” Her name came to me quicker than Lisa’s had. I was a bit embarrassed, because this type of mental name search would seem appropriate if I had not seen Lisa in years, but we had worked closely together at the end of 2005, as she had been our public relations person when I produced “Medal of Honor Rag.” She asked about my nephews. I had also forgotten she had met them a couple of summers ago at a pool party. She told Melinda, “He has the most cutest little nephews.”

“They’re doing great,” I lied. Actually, of late, I had been very concerned about them, especially the older one, regarding his grades. He’s supposed to be going to high school next year but if his grades don’t dramatically improve he’ll wind up at school known for more for its fights than its academic feats. I immediately wished I had told her the truth, but I would have to stumble backwards and retract what I said and that would have made more conversation than I think she wanted. She asked what’s new with me—a de rigueur question at Hollywood events. Everybody wants to know what everybody else is doing so either they can get a lead on a job or compare their sorry state with somebody else’s.

“I’m still writing. A lot,” I said. “And I’m just hoping that one of these things go into production soon. It’s tough.” I looked at Melinda when I said this, making sure to include her in the conversation. She nodded. I wondered if she had been working a lot since “Soul Food” ended its run.

I thought about telling Lisa about “Crossed” and how close we really are to actually getting the film made this summer. Three weeks ago, Heavy and I attached a director to the script: Christopher Erskin. He’s a former USC graduate and video director whose feature film debut was the lamentable “Johnson Family Vacation.” He told me it started off as a bad script that originally ended with a chitlin’ eating contest that he changed just before shooting began. He’s a smart guy and Heavy and I like him. He wants to do “Crossed” because he says it’s a great script and it will give him a chance to direct darker, more serious material. Will Smith read the latest draft and agreed that’s it’s good too. But I didn’t tell Lisa any of this and just said, “Heavy and I are still working together.”

“Oh good,” she replied.

The lights flashed. It was time to go in. I checked my pass. It was assigned seating and I wondered how far in the back I’d be. I found my seat and sat down. No one was around me. I saw an Alpha brother I knew who was into marketing. We exchanged greetings. He introduced me to a guy named Darryl Miller. “Cool. What’s up man.” No matter where I am, if I meet somebody black, my “brother-talk” jumps easily. What if Obama does become President and I have the chance to meet him. Will I say, “Whaddup brother President?” As I sat down the name “Darryl Miller” tugged at me. I know that name, but from – ah, then I remembered. He was the attorney representing Master P when Richard Posell came close to suing him on my behalf several years ago because he owed me money. P eventually paid. I reminded Darryl of this, complimenting him on being a good attorney to work with. He was very gracious and asked me “How is everything going, career-wise?” De Rigueur talk.

“I’m still writing.” He told me he had some clients that might need a good writer. I gave him my card and he asked if I had representation. I told him, “Not right now.”

“Maybe I can help with that.” He searched for his business card but had none. “I’ll reach out to you. Email you”

“Cool. I look forward to it.” I really don’t expect to hear from him. But that’s Hollywood. Black or white.

I took my seat again as Kevin had arrived with his crew. They sat in the same row but there were eight empty seats between us. I guess I was looking sad sitting on the end by myself so Kevin invited me to move down, closer to the middle. I did. The producer spoke, then the director, a South African named Sunu Gonera, each thanking everybody. It was then I noticed the older white man sitting in front of me. I knew the answer as I leaned over and whispered to Kevin, “Is that Clint Eastwood?” Kevin nodded, yes. Whoa. Clint Eastwood! I thought to myself: Mr. Make-My-Day. Director extraordinaire. Hollywood royalty. Right in front of me! At the same screening. Was I star struck? Perhaps a little. But what struck me more was a feeling of appreciation—not for Clint, or being at this particular screening—but just for being at this stage in my career, of feeling so close to living out my dreams. God is truly good. And amazing. And he is still in the blessing business. I watched as Clint took out a pack of gum and offered it to the people in his row—all white—all probably his family or staff. I thought about leaning forward and asking, “Hey Clint, I’d like a piece of gum,” but I didn’t.

Clint Eastwood

“Pride” played and ended. I enjoyed it although it seemed as if every character on screen was crying at some point in the movie. I was proud for Kevin and Alphonso. They each did a good job. I watched as Clint and his crew (which included an older actress I recognized as Francis Fisher) rose from their seats. Francis exclaimed out loud: “That was so much better than “300!” I hoped nobody from that movie was nearby.

Everyone flooded back into the lobby and engaged in the typical Hollywood love fest of hugs and kisses and photographs. I couldn’t find Kevin or Alphonso amidst the melee so I pulled my hat low and quietly slipped toward the elevator. Kevin would call me the next day to find out what happened because they had all gone to an after-party and were looking for me.

As I drove home I was anxious more than ever to complete the rewrites on “Crossed,” and the other scripts: “Chances”-- the Nia Long/T.I film; and “Boot” -- a teen soccer movie. All of these scripts have the strong potential to be made into movies sometime soon. That’s what my career needs—not parties or meaningless socializing—but movies that are made from scripts I’ve written. It will happen but only through relentless old-fashioned hard work, a bit of good fortune and God’s blessings. Obviously I have the latter and even more blessings will continue to reveal themselves.

The signs are all there—like hanging out with Clint Eastwood.

Getting It All Done... Now

2010-10-05T10:06:00.000-04:00

I've got a lot on my plate--creatively speaking-- to complete these days:

An original screenplay for a "mega-church" preacher who lives in Texas.
A stage play for Thomas Miles (aka Nephew Tommy).
An original screenplay for a film producer (who is actually making movies today!)
A sitcom pilot for a former sitcom TV star
Field produce a docu-reality story for an ESPN program.
Create, design and consult upon courses for a new film program at Morehouse College.
Solicit critiques on "Bach, A Monster" -- my original screenplay. (Then begin rewrites.)

Someone suggested that I bring on a co-writer. And though the idea intrigues me, I must admit that I think my ego is pulling me back from the idea. I've been working to achieve a certain level of success as a writer for many years. And now when it seems as if I have some real opportunities to step up to another level, I have to dilute my potency for the sake of getting these projects done within a certain amount of time? But getting them done and in a timely manner IS the name of this game. Opportunity will wait only so long. But how do I get these scripts written quickly and solely by my hand?

I think the answer is discipline and focus.

I must discipline myself to make the best use of all hours in each day. And I must force my focus to remain sharp, and not sway, for even five minutes. Will this work? I don't know. Of course I cannot neglect my other duties in life (home, exercise, family, etc) of which there are plenty. But so many of my dreams and desires rest upon my professional achievement. I must be bold. I must be bodacious. And I must begin it now.

And I'll keep you posted. Wish me luck!

A Concrete Breakfast

2010-02-25T07:55:00.000-05:00

Raven-Symone started it.

I've known the cute dimple faced former Cosby star since she was one of the stars in my national play, "A Mother's Prayer." We traveled together on the same sleeper bus for several months. During that time, and afterwards, she shared with me her fascination with cooking and watching cooking shows. The former I get, but a passion for watching cooking shows? I didn't get it because at the time there were only a handful of shows on the air which were more than likely modeled after Julia Childs and the Galloping Gourmet. They seemed drab and uninteresting--like watching someone make oatmeal.

Today, several years later the cooking show explosion is all over the boob tube and now, admittedly, I get it. With one eye on my computer screen, the other eyeball can be found on shows like "Top Chef" and "Chopped" and even those cake baking shows like "Cake Boss." Oh the drama: Will they deliver the leaning tower of Pisa cake without it toppling over?! Wow. Have we been reduced to this level of entertainment? If I had known, before she died, I would have had a camera on my grandmother while she shuffled around her kitchen, hands covered with flour, making her famous home-made biscuits as she sang in a warbled off-key soprano voice, "Guide my feets fo' I runs dis race..." We could have launched the show during Black History Month and called it "Biscuit Singing Granny" or something like that. Anyway, I digress.

What brings all this to mind is the food I got this morning at Atlanta Bread. I bounce back and forth between Starbucks and Atlanta Bread. Starbucks I get the oatmeal. Atlanta bread I get a breakfast sandwich (which are yummy!) This morning I opted for the more healthy fare at Atlanta Bread and ordered the oatmeal--with the works (cranberry, strawberry, walnuts). A red flag should have gone up when it came out from the kitchen so fast. I had barely finished making my coffee. It wasn't carried out by the quiet could-be-cuter-if-she-bothered-to-care cook who normally works in the morning, but rather it was brought to me by this large guy who droned, "You here every mornin' huh?" I was tempted to say, "Sometimes at Starbucks and only when I'm working on a project," but I didn't want him to follow up with, "What project?" Blah, blah, blah. So I simply said, "Yeah." I looked at the bowl. One of the terms I've learned in watching these cooking shows is plating, which is basically the way food is presented to the diner. This was not plated well--although I could tell he tried. The strawberries were cut lengthwise and arranged around the rim of the bowl in a corny configuration surrounding the cranberries and nuts which were sprinkled generously in the middle. Like I said, he tried. But the real sin for me was that the oatmeal tasted like crap! It was not very hot and was so thick I swear I was stirring concrete. I had to ask for a hot cup of water to loosen it up.

I ate it because, well, I was hungry and I'd paid for it. But as I ground the sludge between my teeth I thought to myself that my singing granny or Raven-Symone would not be happy with the Atlanta Bread show this morning. They'd turn the channel.

Directing Commercials

2010-01-17T16:33:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I wrapped directing the "Wait and Now" ads-- a series of commercials for Morehouse College. Each commercial, about :30 seconds to a 1:00 minute in length, will be distributed via the Internet throughout the year. We shot seven of them, back to back. The crew, a mix of industry pros, college employees and three great students, were great to work with and gave me the support I needed to pull off the job. Nods go especially to Vice Prez Phillip Howard who served as Executive Producer and to Bret Benson and Ali Amin Carter--two incredibly talented actors.

If you know me (or know about me) I'm usually writing or producing, I don't get a chance to direct as much as I like. So this was a great opportunity for me to stretch my wings and work those directing muscles. It felt good. I'm ready to tackle more. So bring on the Budweiser, Nike, Coca-Cola and Micky D size commercials!

"Alley Cats" Completes Principal Photography

2009-12-19T17:57:00.000-05:00

Woo-hoo! This past Sunday we completed principal photography on the "Alley Cats" pilot! Anyone that has seen just a piece of it has said it's hilarious and will undoubtedly get picked up as a series. Hats off to the amazing Alley Cats: "Nephew" Tommy Miles, Wendy Raquel Robinson, Lavell Crawford, Andy Jones, Ethan Smith, Julie McDonald, Kier Spates & Terrie J. Vaughn.

Kudos to the "Strays" -- our talented company of background actors: Fernando, Afrika, Star, Ray-Ray, Ali, et al. And all this could not have been done without our crew, notably:
Tommy Wright - Supervising Producer
Sylvia Jackson - UPM
Tommy Burns - DP
Kory Washington - Production Designer
Chrystale Wilson - Set Decorator
Benny Gaskin & Co. - Gaffer
Bruce Brooks - Audio
Wendy Raquel Robinson - Director (of 4 sketches!)
Josh Skierski - Director ("The Slap Detective")
Stephan Terry - Music
Barbara Shaw - Production Coordinator
Sherry Rosse - Hair/Makeup
Tiffany Griffin - Prop/Wardrobe Supervisor
Isis McClendon - Prop/Wardrobe
Cassie Crump - Choreographer
Lee Coleman - Key PA
Ken Westbrook - Editor

... and a whole lot more who helped to make this happen!

Now it's on to post-production. Wish us luck and keep your eye out for the "Alley Cat" show coming soon to your television line-up!

A New Dance

2009-11-29T21:41:00.001-05:00

Wow! Has it really been that long since I've posted something on this site?!
Geesh. Okay I won't drain your eyeballs with my blathering about time getting away and such, but suffice it to say I will be posting more often. No, really I will. I promise.

What's new with me?

Since my last post, reality tv work has taken a back seat. In the "back-back" some kids might say if they viewed my career as a big SUV. But I didn't seat Mr. Reality back there. He sat himself after I was yanked from working on a show just prior to the launch of production.

I was told by the "higher ups" that the decision to do this had nothing to do with me. They just had some obligations to another Production Manager that they had to fulfill. So Ave was out, and the obligadee was in. And I sat at home like the guy who was suddenly un-invited to the prom by his date an hour before the limo was to arrive. There I was, corsage in hand, looking out the window, staring at the phone, anxiously awaiting for someone, anyone (Frankie?) to invite me to the dance. Then it hit me, create my own dance. Damn it.

Fast forward.

I'm now in Atlanta executive producing a sketch comedy show pilot called "Alley Cats" starring Nephew Tommy, Wendy Raquel Robinson, Lavell Crawford and group of amazingly talented Atlanta based improv actors. We're goin' for the gusto here and not simply pitching an idea, or creating a presentation piece or producin' somethin' for the web. We are actually producing a broadcast quality pilot with the earnest hope of selling it to a network or cable station next year. It's a grind to produce and I'll write more about it in upcoming posts (I promise!) but the hope of the future for this pilot and the thrill in doing a fun project more than makes up for the tough days. And did I mention that I'm also directing and producing a series of commercials for Morehouse College?

So this is my dance. The music is great and all the people here are folks I invited. I'll be the first to say that it's not always easy keeping the music going but that's the trade off. No one can un-invite me here. I just have to keep working, keep producing, keep stepping toward the goal and make sure that along the way no one spikes the punch!

My Reality

2008-09-07T23:50:00.000-04:00

Someone more wiser and more experienced in this business once said to me, "You gotta make television your job and movies your hobby." I don't remember who that wise sage was but I understood what they were saying.

Production Crew at the impromptu wrap party

At the time though, the advice didn't take root because that wasn't my reality. I didn't have a job in television and didn't see one coming in the near future. However, that seed of wisdom stayed planted in my mental garden and only now, in the past few months, do I see it coming to some fruition.

I have, since the dawn of my young career as a writer, been able to snatch some kind of word-smithing employment. Some of the work, like being hired to hammer out a full-length screenplay was right on point with my particular passions and other writing gigs were a bit off the mark, like writing white papers for an MBA focus group. Yet, it all kept my head above water.

However last October a flood came. Call it Hurricane Writers' Strike. The strike nearly drowned me as it sucked out any air of employment I might usually take in. When money got thin, I was forced to work for a temp agency which, though I was grateful for the gig, was nevertheless mind numbing.

All I did was file, for eight hours straight. I did so much filing that I dreamt of filing at night: Robertson... Robinson... Ro...

Then a call came from a friend who let me know about a possible Production Coordinating gig on a reality show pilot. I leaped at the opportunity. I had recently returned to production work by working as a coordinator or manager on short films, videos and commercials--on the weekends mostly-- so a tv pilot was right on time. Although I had never done "reality TV" my prior experience and the interview I gave landed me the job. The only rub was that it was being shot in Atlanta and if I was to be hired, the budget dictated that I had to be hired as a "local." That meant I'd have to fly myself to Atlanta, find my own lodging, get my own transportation and receive no per diem. Nada. Ouch. Not the best situation. But then I thought of filing.

The next week I flew my butt to Atlanta.

The show was called "The Single," an interesting reality show premise that tracks a once top-o'-the-chart musician's attempt to work with a currently hot producer in order to create a single song that will catapult that musician to the hit list once again. The pilot featured R&B singer Monica as she worked with uber-producer Brian Cox. The hours were long (most times I wouldn't get home until after 2:00am.) but the work was solid, gratifying and I thoroughly enjoyed the production company I was working for.

Apparently the appreciation was mutual because not long after "The Single" wrapped they offered me a job on another show that was gearing up for production. This time it was "Keyshia Cole: The Way It Is--Season 3." In order to fully talk about the roller coaster ride I was on (in fact that we were all on) with that show it would take another post or two. But don't let me mislead you. The experience on KC3 was invaluable. The people and production company great (this time I was flown in and had a car provided). But the schedule and cast was, well, wild. I repeat, WILD. And just like any hair raising, thrill a minute roller coaster ride, it all came unexpectantly one day to a screeching halt. But like I said, that's fodder for another story.

Fortunately though, my story with this production company has continued as I'm now on yet another reality show they are producing. This one is called "Celebrity Dream Day" and will be shot out of Los Angeles. This work is in no way as topsy-turvy as "Keyshia Cole." The hours are relatively normal and consistent and the cast appears to be relatively drama free (so far!). So now I'm living in LA during the weekday and returning to Aliso Viejo on the weekends and I'm following the wise sage's advice.

TV has become my job.

And writing movies well, has I guess, been relagated to the status of a hobby. But know that I'm still workin' hard on the weekends to make it a paid hobby, indeed! That's my reality.

Copy Of A Copy

2008-04-24T23:19:00.000-04:00

I rarely watch music videos these days, but apparently my good friend Kevin Ross does. He writes daily on a great site called 3 Brothers & A Sister. One of his recent posts features Alicia Key's latest video. Kevin writes about the video:

Seeing as though I met my now wife when I was twelve, I'm absolutely digging "Teenage Love Affair" by Alicia Keys. It's my favorite cut on her slamming cd. After watching the video, I'm just beside myself [Kevin gets this way sometime!] As a Morehouse Man, the whole "School Daze" vibe is so on point, I feel like I'm back in time.

Okay, first thing first. Watch the video. Trust me. It's decent. No booty shakin' or platinum grill teeth flashin' at ya.

alicia keys - Teenage love affair

I agree with Kevin in that there is a wonderful sense of nostalgia invoked by this video. However, that blast from the past ahh shucks vibe resonates with me mainly because the video is modeled off of "School Daze"--- a movie that echoes with visions of my experience at Morehouse in the late '80's. But there is also something disconcerting about director Chris Robinson's video.

Instead of culling his video idea from a fictional film I would loved it more if he had pulled from his own vision, his own scenarios, and his own take on the black college experience. As it is now, he's made a copy of a copy. The black college experience is so rich, so vibrant, so visual to mine from, that he could have created his own homage to the past if he had done a little work. Maybe he and Alicia didn't want to. Did they love "School Daze" that much? Has it become a "classic" already? Or was Chris perhaps a bit, um, lazy?

This video is really an homage to Spike Lee and the black college experience that was seen through the prism of HIS artistic vision, and not Chris or Alicia's. The issue (and hence the reason for this post) is to express my concern when artists rely upon other art as their sole inspiration instead of life itself. They lean on the learning of history or life from another's work without deriving that knowledge from the source.

Of course, especially as it regards old knowledge, you can't talk with anybody who has lived in ancient Rome or fought in the Civil War, so you've got to pull from third parties, books, archival films and whatnot. I'm a fan of Alicia Keys and I do like Chris Robinson's work. He has a fine narrative sensibility in many of his videos, but lawd knows, there are plenty of people who attended Morehouse, Spelman, Clark, Hampton, Howard and other HBC's to gather insight from--even if Chris didn't attend one himself.

Heck, they could have called me.

Worried About Pissing Off People Equals Zero Posts, Stupid

2008-03-22T13:41:00.000-04:00

Before the word blogging was invented (it's kind of funny to think of words being invented but they are--every year), I published by email a regular little column for my friends and family that I dubbed "L.A. Diaries." They were basically short essays, thoughts and stories about my experiences as a young fresh earnest screenwriter embarking on my career in Los Angeles.

These days I'm still earnest, though perhaps not as fresh (or young!) as I once was (hopefully more knowledgeable and experienced though), and the blogsite has replaced the en masse emailing. Though I love the technological benefits blogging gives me, I've lost something in the transition.

Because of the public, aye, world-wide access posting anything on the web provides, I have found myself becoming very conscientious about mentioning particular names of people I interact with. I speak namely of the stars, those people who generate fifty-zillion Internet pages when they are googled (that's a recently invented verb).

It's not that I have anything damaging to say about any of these people (for the record, my relationships with all of them are good and those I really know are GREAT people), it's just that in a business whose daily decisions are so precariously perched on the pinnacle of public opinion that they can be swayed by a mere positive or negative breeze, I don't want to be the guy who's blowing the wrong winds. Are thousands of people reading my blog? Heck no. But it only takes one:

"Ya know this writer named Avery has told the world that he's frustrated at how slow things are moving with you."

So in trying to decide whether or not to write about this or that, I ultimately end up not writing at all. That's got to change.

In fact, my whole approach to writing professionally needs to be fixed. What that entails will be the subject of my next post--unless, of course, I have a very important story meeting with Tom Hanks or Steven Spielberg to tell you about first.

I could only wish.

Desperate People

2008-01-23T13:18:00.000-05:00

BET held what they termed as a "job fair" yesterday in Beverly Hills. I went, with shoes shined and resumes in hand. I sat in front of a rep from New York named Wayne Brooks who looked like a football player. He seemed like a nice guy as we quickly exchanged pleasantries. He read my resumes while I talked about myself as a writer. "Well, we definitely need strong writers," Wayne said, "And from the looks of things you certainly have the experience. I'm going to pass your resume on to Robin [a BET exec who works in the LA office] and hopefully she'll give you a call." A few more kind words were swapped, then a handshake and I was gone. I've never gone on a speed date but I would imagine it feels something like that.

"Hopefully" echoed in my brain as a I walked to my car passing dozens of hopefuls, on their way inside, grinning nervously with resumes tucked under their arms. I've probably become a bit pessimistic these days but it all felt kind of sad and desperate, like cigarette ashen gamblers pouring in their last monies into a Las Vegas slot machines. Personally, I'm tired of pouring. I doubted that Robin or anybody else from BET would call me, so I quickly fixed my mind into other income generating ideas.

After talking with Stacey McClain, a former stand-up comic and talented writer who wrote for "The Parkers" and "House of Payne" but who is now relegated to going to the "job fairs" too, I drove over to Julie Baker's house to finish up a treatment for a reality show she wants to do with Queen Latifah. (She's Latifah's very good friend who's been styling the Queen's hair for the past decade).

And all the while I'm thinking, my future will dry up waiting on things to happen from other people. Why not do my own thing? So I started pondering once again on a business I'd like to start. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this probably is the way to go, a way to pull myself away from the Hollywood slot machine and pour my talents into something with a bit more guarantee for a decent pay off.

I'll discuss more about that idea, later. My phone is ringing right now. Maybe it's BET calling...
yeah right!

Funky Ave

2007-12-11T11:58:00.000-05:00

Arrrgh.

I'm in a funk. My funk is not one of those pill-popping, liquor swilling, dark depressed moods. In fact, my mood is rather buoyant. My funk is from my confusion about what I should be doing on a day-to-day basis. When I've been hired to write a screenplay, I know what my daily task is: sit down and write the damn screenplay. That work typically engages me anywhere from four to fourteen hours a day. I love the work. But now, I'm sooooo in between jobs, that I'm lost, disoriented, in a ... funk.

Most veteran writers suggest we take this time to write that special spec script we've all be harboring for months or years. Or take the time to write a new sitcom. Or play. Anything--just write. And I'm cool with that, except for one thing. Many of these veteran guys have some cash to sit on while they wait for the next job. Not this lovely writer. In the words of that great poet Heavy D, "I ain't got nothin' but love for you baby." But love does not pay the bills.

So what do I do?

My friend Darryl says loudly, "Go get a job!" And I hear him. In fact, I hear my own voice joining that chorus. (I think my mom is in that choir too.) But here's the rub: I feel lost at how to get a "regular" job. I've been out of that market for so long that a high school senior knows how to land gigs better than I do. Honestly I just don't know what to do! Flip through the want ad section? Pass out my business cards? And what kind of jobs do I actually apply for?

I think people like me, in the arts, need a job a counselor.

But until I get one, I guess I'd better figure it out quickly. Hey, Santa is coming soon. I've been a good boy. Maybe he'll bring me something I need: money and work--in that order.

Am I On Strike?

2007-11-23T11:41:00.000-05:00

This Thanksgiving I went back home to Chicago. Amidst the turkey, dressing, mac & cheese, sweet potato pies, collard greens and other calorie laden holiday delectables, I was frequently asked, "Are you on strike?" That question puts me in an odd position. On one hand, I totally support my fellow writer's and their cause to such a degree as going out marching myself and possibly leading them in a good old Negro spiritual inspired civil rights marchin' song:

Ain't gonna let no 'ducers turn me 'round, turn me 'round, turn me 'round Ain't gonna let no studio turn me 'round, Keep on a marchin', keep on a writin' , wit all my residuals in hand...

On the other hand, "being on strike" means that you are refusing to work until certain employment conditions are met. But what if you weren't working before the strike was called? The WGA brass would answer that being on strike also means that you refuse any work offered while the strike is in progress. Okay, that's sort of a positive approach, but with 48% of the Guild's membership not working at any given time, how realistic is it that writer's will be given "offers"--especially now? I'll tell you: not very likely at all.

I would imagine that if you're a writer who has walked off a television show, there's a good chance you've got a financial cushion to ease your glutes after you leave the picket line. But if you weren't working before the strike, get no "offers" during the strike and the opportunity for work after the strike looks as bleak as it was before all this began, then where are you? Singing a spiritual I guess, expressing solidarity, fighting for the cause. However, given the extremely tough nature of employment in his business, this writer's spiritual may sound less like a civil rights song, but more like a blues tune.

"Am I on strike?" Yeah, I am--not by refusing work (because that's not really MY situation at present)--but more on the issues the WGA is fighting for: DVD residuals, a piece of "emerging media" ect. So, while the big boys (and girls) haggle this thing out, I'll be doing what I've always done: hustle to survive and hope that this "strike" yields not only better benefits but will also open some doors I've kickin' at with my marchin' feet for a few years.

"Redirecting Eddie" Rises

2007-10-22T02:16:00.000-04:00

For the past several years, it seems as though whenever I've discussed the movie business and me, I've been pissed off. It usually stems from my frustration that a script I wrote is not moving toward production after all the parade marching ballyhoo to the contrary from the star or producer that hired me to write it. So it's a pleasure to finally share some good news about a film I've scripted.

In 2000, I was hired by a sharp, aggressive and very good-natured first time director/producer named Laurence Kaldor. He needed a screenwriter to whittle down some early drafts and write a script for a movie idea that he had been struggling to create. The story, which was originally called "Project: Indie," is inspired by Kaldor's personal dealings with his own filmmaking sister and his efforts to make a feature film. I think Kaldor tried to write the script himself. When that wasn't working he hired some "Hollywood" writer to script the film, but that failed too (and he lost a lot of money.) After repeated failed attempts to get the story right, he called NYU to ask for their recommendation for a screenwriter. They suggested me.

I interviewed with Kaldor and his producer. We never discussed it, but I think the young Jewish director and his crew were just a wee bit surprised when this young black man walked into the room. Several other writers were interviewing also but I got the gig.

Over the next several weeks, Laurence Kaldor worked closely with me as I rewrote the script. In October of that year (the same year I moved to Atlanta) Laurence filmed the movie, which was called "Directing Eddie." The first cut of the film was completed in early 2oo1. It stars Valerie Perrine, Jaid Barrymore (Drew's mom) and Deidre Imus (yep, his wife) and it was completed in time to screen and go on to win "Best Comedy" in the New York Independent Film & Video Festival 2001. Distributors were lining up to take it nationally. Then 9-11 struck.

As that fateful tragedy fucked with everything in the world, it also rocked "Directing Eddie." All at once, no one was interested in distributing a comedy set in New York. "The country just isn't ready," they said. "And it shows the twin towers!" So the movie hit the shelf and a year or so later Laurence left New York to move to LA.

I heard Tom Hanks on a few interviews talk about the "movie god." He calls her "Pelicula" or "Cineaste" or something like that. Anyway, whoever this celluloid oriented deity is, she has smiled on "Directing Eddie" because (drum roll please) the movie is rising again! From what I hear, "Directing Eddie" has been recut, reworked, re-something else (maybe the twin towers were digitally removed) and renamed to, "Re-Directing Eddie." A new song from Cher is even in the film now. Also, a new website has been constructed and a new campaign has been erected to take the film off the shelf to now be put, hopefully, on the screen. It's first re-showing will be at the American Film Market in Santa Monica, California next month. So here's the link to the website: Re-Directing Eddie... and click here for the movie's trailer.

Honestly, I don't know how good the movie is, but that really doesn't matter. Really it doesn't. I'm just glad to see something FINALLY made! Hats off to you Laurence Kaldor. Now the rest of you stars and producers go and do likewise!

"Sermons By Lavell" Off To A Great Start

2007-10-13T15:25:00.000-04:00

Wow! It's been ten days since my last post. I promise, I'll post more frequently and with shorter entries. (I know some of y'all are just too busy to read more than a few lines!) So here's what's happening:

My first big push into TV Land is with a spec pilot I wrote entitled "Sermons By Lavell" starring, you guessed it, Lavell Crawford. I've been blessed to now have a veteran showrunner attached. His name is David Duclon and his credits are deep--as far back as "The Odd Couple" and "Happy Days." He was also an executive producer on "The Jeffersons" "Punky Brewster" "Silver Spoons" "Eve"-- and many more.

Last Sunday, David and I met with Lavell and his team (his manager Coco and roommate Jay Lamont) after the Last Comic Standing Tour Show in Anaheim. It was a solid meeting. For the next two days I retooled "Sermons..." then David took it to his agent at ICM to get his thoughts. We're awaiting word from him concerning the script and possible representation of me. Things look good. But then there is the approaching strike...!

More later. (I promise!)

Gimme The Pliers... I'm Changing Stations!

2007-10-03T13:03:00.000-04:00

Tony Robbins, the mega-selling motivational guru, says, "If the plan isn't working, change the plan." Sounds like good advice to me. So that's what I'm doing.

After years of encircling the world of feature film writing, I'm breaking free of that very frustrating and too often disappointing orbit to seek another mission: TV writing.

I've dabbled in it before when I've scripted pilot specs either for myself or people like "Nephew" Tommy Miles and Master P, but I never really firmly committed to the genre. Why not? It probably has something to do with the daily grind of the TV schedule and the nervousness of "pitching" jokes in a room of very funny people. But ya know, I'm ready to get over that.

The new mantra needs to be: TV is my job; film is my hobby.

The reality is that I know more people working in the television biz than the film world. And it's true about Hollywood: it's who you know that makes a difference. Now I don't mean to make this crossover sound as simple as walking over to the other side of the street. Blasting out of ones orbit takes a lot of thrust and when I arrive, there's no guarantee that the good people of TV land will be any more open than those in movie world. When I told Wendy Raquel Robinson I was going to make this transition, she snapped back, "Why? Ain't no writin' jobs in TV either. What you ought to do is reality shows."

Mmm. Not yet. I want to give scripted shows a shot. I know I have the talent and ideas to go along with it. And I think I may just have a key element to my TV plans. I'll know for sure on Sunday, so tune in next week. '

"Tune in." Wow, I'm talking TV already!

This Day I Tread

2007-09-24T12:35:00.001-04:00

I hate days like today.

I feel like I'm treading water in a fog so thick I can barely see my hands. I'm unclear. And I ask myself constantly: Where I should go? What I should be doing?

It gets like this sometime, especially when I have no major projects I'm working on which normally lead me like a lighthouse beacon into a some kind of clear direction, some harbor. Sure I could do something--email, script rewrites, research--but what is the most important thing to do NOW? Oh I hear the chorus (lead by my friend Darryl) responding loudly: Do something that will get you some MONEY, now!

But what is the best way to do that now? For the past several years, I've hustled up dozens upon dozens of writing jobs--from academic papers to artist bios to scripts--but honestly, I'm tired of that particular hustle. It's like pitching pennies when I should be bowling for billions. I've got film projects ("Crossed," "Jade the Protector"), TV projects ("Sermons by Lavell"), animated projects ("The Circuit") all floundering on the waves, in that damn fog, waiting for the Hollywood lighthouse to bring them into harbor. And I have more projects I want to write which will undoubtedly add to my sea traffic.

But what do I need to do today, or tomorrow, or the next day? Do I create more stuff? Do I clean up the flotsam of business emails, phone calls or the jetsam of domestic duties? Do I attempt to steer the present projects into some kind of settled waters?

Or do I say the hell with these waves and start swimming toward different waters where Post Office buoys and other traditional nine-to-five flotels bob temptingly in waters I once pledged to never again tread?

I thank God for all my days, but I really hate the way this one is going.

First Runner Up is Good, Right?

2007-09-21T15:03:00.000-04:00

By now most of you (who follow such things) know that Lavell Crawford was not the "last comic standing." That first place prize went to Jon Reep, along with $250,000. If you watched the show you could see the huge wave of disappointment wash over Lavell's face. It's understandable. I haven't called him yet. I'll wait a few days until the cacophony dies down. Undoubtedly, his climb to runner-up garnered him a lot of exposure. Maybe that will still translate into somebody wanting to center a show around him or feature him in a film. Only time will tell. Remember that "runner-up" in American Idol a couple season back? Clay Akins? The way he was positioned in the market, one might actually think HE won first place. So it's up to Lavell and his people to ride this wave as best and as long as they can. Congratulations Lavell!

Will Lavell Crawford Be The Last Comic Standing?

2007-09-15T13:30:00.000-04:00

I've known comedian Lavell Crawford for several years. In fact, during one of the low times in my career (which one you say?), I crashed on his couch in Los Angeles for a few weeks. He was rooming with "Jammin'" Jay Lamont, a music-comedian, and an incredible talent in his own right. Weighing in at close to 400 pounds, Lavell can look quite intimidating, a beast--and indeed for hecklers he is!--but while I stayed in his apartment I came to discover that not only is he an incredibly nice and generous guy, but he's also a well-spring of creativity. He regaled me with movie ideas--one of which I turned into a screenplay entitled "Pimp Juice."

"Pimp Juice" is about Farnsworth, the grandson of a legendary pimp, who must return home, defeat an evil pimp and reclaim his heritage. I know, I know I hear you---but it's about "pimps" right? How can that be funny? Trust me it is. When Lavell pitched me the idea, I had my own reservations but as I heard his ideas I saw the humor. (My friend Phillip at Morehouse College says regardless of how funny it is he HATES the idea! Pimps Avery? Give me a break!)

It was during my stay at Lavell and Jay's apartment in Woodland Hills that I came up with a sitcom idea about a young preacher of a small church in a poor neighborhood who has two roomates: one a musician, the other a writer. I wrote it, infusing it with Lavell's comedy, and entitled it "Sermons By Lavell." Everyone that has read it says it's funny as hell. But "Sermons" or "Pimp Juice" never went anywhere because, well, Lavell and I didn't have any Hollywood juice, per se. However that tide may soon turn.

As some of you may know, Lavell has been a contestant on this season's "Last Comic Standing." Over the past several weeks he has weathered situational challenges, heckling, time constraints, odd costumes-- and yet each week he has come out on top, such that it's now down to only two contestants. The final is this WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19. For those who don't know, the final contestants are selected by the public--not only here, but in places like Canada and Australia! So now, until September 19th, people around the world are calling and clicking their mice to vote for one of the two comedians. You can vote more than once too. Trust me. It's quick and easy. I hit my speed dial dozens of times a day. At the bottom of this post I'll provide the number so you can call in and vote or click on the hyperlink to NBC.

I really hope he wins. And who knows, if he is the last comic standing, perhaps "Pimp Juice" (sorry Phillip) or "Sermons By Lavell" will see the light of a studio's day and get made. Lavell Crawford is a talented guy who deserves a big break.

Heck, for that matter, so do I.

Call: 1-866-978-2702 or click here.

Exit Star Enter Hev

2007-09-09T17:46:00.000-04:00

Heavy D called me yesterday to tell me that the "star" who was going to get on board "Crossed" has passed on the project. He offered no reason as to why. I think that exit was more of a blow to Heavy than he indicated to me because he is now making plans to do some music shows after several years of saying he's out of the music biz. However, the former overweight lover (remember he's lost a helluva lot of pounds) needs to make some money and to keep himself active. People have said to him that they'll come see his music shows when he mounts them (in a few select cities, beginning with LA) so we'll see. In the meantime, as we're still pushing "Crossed" and Heavy's gearing up for his show, what do I do?

I gotta eat too, so I have several projects hovering in the air that I will turn greater attention to. But instead of filling up this post with a laundry list of what they are, I'll discuss them individually in future posts. In the meantime, dust off your hip-hop shoes and get ready for "diggidy dee, diggidy dee."

Could "Crossed" Stars Finally Be Aligning?

2007-09-02T00:50:00.000-04:00

A couple of years ago I wrote a movie called “Crossed” with my friend Heavy D. It’s a taught edgy little drama about a cop who may have crossed the line in his attempt to get at a notorious drug dealer. The cop will be played by Heavy D. Since it’s completion, “Crossed” has been read by a LOT of people including Will Smith, Alan Alda, Laurence Fishburne, Demi Moore, James Lassiter, Wood Harris, Antwone Fisher, Salli Richardson, Denzel Washington and Tim Story. Folks love the script--they really really do. Last year I met Denzel at a gathering at Morehouse wherein he said to me, “That cop story? You wrote that? That’s a good script man.” (I hoped he would call me “son” like he says to people in the movies.) Then he asked me had Heavy and I made the movie. Of course we hadn’t. But why hadn’t we-- especially if the script is that hot?

Well, this is Hollywood and oftentimes things don’t happen until the stars are in alignment. Really, THE stars--those that rest in the constellations of Beverly Hills, Malibu and the like. Heavy D is a very good actor. He won the Drama Desk award for his stage work in “Riff-Raff” and showed more than ample chops in the successful run of the two man stage play “Medal of Honor Rag.” However, no one was willing to bank on a movie starring Heavy--no matter how much they liked him as a person (which they do) or the script (which they do.)

Recently however a star has come into the “Crossed” universe. I can’t reveal who that is--at least not yet--until papers are signed and the orbit is actually in motion, but THIS STAR CAN GET “CROSSED” MADE.

Am I excited? Mmm. Somewhat. I remain cynical because this business is rife with so many disappointments that I refuse to mount my joy unnecessarily. However, as it moves closer to fruition I know I’ll shine brighter--like E.T.’s heart light-- and I’ll definitely keep you posted as to what’s happening.

In the meantime, I’ll be writing new stuff while keeping my feet on the ground and reaching for the, um, stars?

Harry Potter and the Black Readers

2007-08-04T00:43:00.000-04:00

I finished reading “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows,” the seventh and final book in the series, last night. Many avid readers of author J.K. Rowling’s young wizard’s odyssey finished the book over a week ago, but I got started late and I only read in spurts. (Hey, I gotta take time to post this blog right?)

“Hallows” is an incredibly well-written novel and Harry’s tale, which is meticulously and amazingly woven through seven books, never loses its momentum or tension. Obviously I’m a fan—a big fan. But after I closed the book it lead me to wonder, with over 12 million copies printed:

Are there a lot of black folks who are reading the Harry Potter series?

I asked short story writer and home schooling consultant Candice Davis that question. “Amongst readers, yes, the Potter books are popular. But unfortunately many of our black children are not avid readers,” she says. I asked about adults. “Most of them when they do read, don’t read fiction.”

I’d love for there to be some poll to discover what percentage of black people are avid readers (I hear the question coming: What determines “avid?” But that’s the surveyors job) and what are our avid readers reading?

Might it have anything to do with wizards, Quidditch, wands or a kid named Harry?