Will God Buy Me a Dress for the San Diego ASA Conference?

I was born in L.A. That was traumatizing enough. After being yanked out of the womb by the ankles and having my umbilical cord hacked off, immediately followed by lipo for that unsightly baby fat, and a blast of botox for that furrowed crybaby brow, I knew that something wasn’t right about that place. Look, I am just too ugly to live in Los Angeles, and even with a bank full of money, I would still shop at Target (but – you know – just to prove it, go ahead and give me a bank full of money and I’ll test out my theory).

I’m gratified to see that there are, in fact, some working screenwriters online who don’t live in Los Angeles. I’ve also read a lot of opinions by people in The Biz fatalistically intoning that if I (and you too, man -- I'm not alone in the audience) want a writing career in film or TV, you better damn well live in L.A. In fact, one article about TV writing told me that if I didn’t live in L.A. to not even bother reading the rest of his article. And so he got exactly what he wanted. I didn’t read the rest of his article. He got his exclusive audience. What a genius! I just read Gary Allison’s most current blog on Storylink that proves otherwise. He lives in Detroit and awesome things are happening with his TV comedy pilot.

I’ve also read interviews by Those-in-the-Know that all I need to succeed is to believe in myself and to have a tough skin. Well, that sounds like I don’t know that I exist, therefore, I need to “believe” in myself – like believing in God, or believing that liver is actually delicious if you smother it enough in bacon and onions. And as for having a tough skin – well then, I’m screwed because I burst out into tears when someone spells my name wrong. Luckily, I don’t have any talent, which some gurus have indicated is not required. And hopefully, I’ll find out that any kind of skill is actually totally undesirable because then -- I am SET.

I’m leaving in a week to attend the 20th Annual ASA Conference at the San Diego Film Festival. I haven’t been to the U.S. since I moved to Ajijic, Mexico over two years ago. It doesn’t sound like a long time, but it seems weird to me. I’m having that trippy time continuum conundrum (say that 10 times real fast) – it feels like time has flown by crazy fast, but at the same time, I feel like I’ve lived here for 20 years. Oh well, who cares? I’m boring even myself. I’m talking about this as if I’m The Discoverer of this feeling. Everyone has it – I know.

My rational and optimistic side is expecting that, like any place else (except for maybe a KKK rally), the film festival/conference will be a mixture of all kinds of people with a variety of personalities, opinions, and skills to share. The narrow, cynical side of me tells me that I’m in for a sycophant festival filled with ass-kissing hopefuls and total a**holes with egos larger than, um… my ass (which is NOT big, by the way, I was just looking for a metaphor).

Don’t get me wrong -- I am genuinely excited. I am so looking forward to this conference -- I’ve never been to one. I get giddy when I talk about it. I’m excited about the workshops – I’m excited about the people I will be meeting – I’m excited about the parties. I am also a little nervous. Sometimes… usually – and suddenly – at 3 o’clock in the morning, I am a lot nervous. I really don’t know of what. That would be the irrational side of me, I suppose. I want to enjoy what I’m doing and not be the ass-kissing hopeful that I was just so disdainful of. Most of the time, I am just really enjoying this process, as well as looking forward to the conference. And then I have the most absurd moments when I realize I gave away all my nice dresses to move to Mexico – and then I have this pathetic moment of panic -- Is the one I have left nice enough? Will that matter? As ridiculous as that sounds, what if it’s true? What if I can’t sell my screenplays because I'm not wearing the right dress?

Okay, well just by writing that down I answered my own question. And others answered too. See? Just look (Transcription of actual divine voices heard):

God: “Yes, Leslie, it is true. Better buy a new dress.”

An Even Better God: “Here’s $500 for a new dress, Leslie.”

But I have a point to make… and I can say this with a degree of confidence: I am doing something right now that I enjoy doing so goddamn much that it almost – almost -- doesn’t matter what happens.