Now, if I could just find a new dog ...
My god, she sounds so cheerful today. Deal with it. Some writers believe they have to suffer for their art -- and sometimes that might be the case -- I know that all the horrible shit I've been through over the years has given me some great material -- but I've found that I've written my best stuff when I'm happy and centered. The mind, the imagination and the creative juices just flow better. Life has it's ups and downs -- so why revel in 'the downs?'
Well, having bills to pay helps, too. Mickey Spillane went through long spells in the later stages of his career when he 'couldn't think of a story', and then his accountant would tell him that he needed to make some money, and BANG -- a new story would come out. I guess everyone's process is different.
Screened THE ASPHALT JUNGLE last night, a noir classic from the 40's. Sterling Hayden, Louis Calhern, Jean Hagen, a very young James Whitemore -- and, the screen debut of Marilyn Monroe in a small part as a gangter's girfriend. Great flick about the crimnal mind and how it works. Terrific heist pic. Welcome to the Jungle, film noir fans. If you haven' seen this one, you need to.
Onto today's scene from DAZED, BEAUTIFUL & BRUISED, and it's a doozy. Carrie Love shows up on the porn shoot to get some information, working undercover.
And the she meets the most beautiful woman she's ever seen in her life, and falls head over heels.
Bonus points trivia: this really happened to me. Back in the 90's, I worked for Playboy entertainment, and had an affair that this storyline is based on. And yes, it was totally trippy to use this when I wrote this back in '04.
Trust me. Never fall in love with a porn star ...
EXT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS MANSION - DAY
Carrie stands at the front door. Regards the opulence.
She looks smokin’ hot in a halter, daisey dukes and platform sandals.
My contact’s name was Zette Duquesne.
She was a nice girl, came from a rich French family,
descended from royalty.
Until she was busted with a shitload of coke
driving naked on Mulholland Drive at five AM.
Of course, I didn’t know that the night I picked her up at Girl Bar.
Didn’t know she worked in the porn industry, either.
No wonder she asked if I had handcuffs.
Lucky for me I never told her I was a cop.
Wasn’t in the mood for nightstick games.
Just wanted plain, French vanilla, thank you.
INT. MANSION FOYER - CONTINUOUS
LAURA WOOD (27), blond, Brit, unspeakably beautiful.
The bastard offspring of Grace Kelly and Charlize Theron.
Indigo eyes burn with mischief. Cruel lips sneer with promises
better left unkept.
She stands at her mark in a cheap Chanel knock-off
that flies off her curves. Studies her lines.
It was one of those moments that only happen
a couple of times in your life. If you’re lucky.
All of a sudden I was face to face
with the most incredibly stunning creature I’d ever seen.
(off the script, without feeling)
'Oh my god. It’s so fucking huge.
I don’t think I can take it all.'
(closes her eyes, memorizing)
'Oh my god. It’s so fucking huge -- '
Carrie watches. Stopped in her tracks.
I don’t think I can take it all.
The rest of the line.
They both stare.
Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.
I was just passing through --
A clock CHIMES somewhere.
You’re -- visiting someone?
(trying to be casual, not successful)
Yeah, uh -- Zette, the make up girl?
So you’re 'Legs.'
Uh, yeah. Actually, it’s -- Carrie.
I see why.
Klaus charges in.
Laura, there you are.
We’re ready to do the, uh -- strap-on thing.
Oh, alright. If you insist.
And you, Miss Legs.
I need to have a word with you later.
Uh, yeah --sure thing.
A -- word --