But What I Really Want To Do Is Direct

People often ask me what I eventually want to do. It’s a tough question to answer without resorting to platitudes.

It’s an old Hollywood cliché that everyone wants to be a director, so I try to avoid that, even though I graduated from what amounts to a director factory.

What surprises me, though, is that everyone says they are a writer, by dint of having simply typed something out. (Of course, sometimes you can just type something out, if you have a big name, and an admittedly awesome story; then nobody will care that you can’t spell.)

Personally, I used to have a rule that I would not claim to be a writer until I actually sold something. Until that point, I’m just an aspiring writer. Then I did sell a script (in the low three digits) to a company that makes straight-to-DVD movies. Supposedly, they’re shooting in Mexico soon. It’s been “soon” for the last eighteen months.

Somehow, I can’t bring myself to call myself a “writer.”

Despite what the “-er” suffix implies, there’s more to being a real writer than just writing. Someone has to want to read it, too. So far, I’ve only gotten a few friends and a handful of work acquaintances to read my scripts. Not much of a fan base, to be sure.

I think my new rule will be– I can call myself a writer when more people read my script than read my blog. 🙂

[On a personal note, I started playing Half Life 2: Episode Two this weekend. Can I sue them for making a game so obviously based on my nightmares? Seriously, a giant spider that shoots acid? Thanks for that, Valve.

[My wife says I should imagine the spider on roller skates, but I don’t see how that will help. Then there would no way I can outrun it. It’s like giving a tyrannosaurus an F-15.]