the slack daily

Striking Distance.

As most of you know, the WGA's vote to end the strike action passed with a whopping 92.5% approval.  While everyone's back to work, everything's technically not over until we ratify the deal that's on the table.  While it's not a perfect deal (DVDs were taken off the table), it does finally open the door to New Media payments.  There's also another small clause that was mentioned in an email sent out from my fabulous Strike Captain Aaron Solomon:

* Fair Market Value

 

   - Writers will get residuals based on the going industry rate, rather than the terms of a specific sale (to avoid situations like "The X-Files" being sold to FX for a cut rate and the writers having to get paid based on that)

Which is exactly what happened with Lizzie McGuire when it got sold to WGN.  Lizzie was immediately taken off Disney Channel and can be replayed on WGN.  I believe we received a small percentage of the licensing fee, rather than payment each time an episode aired.  The long and the short of it is that had this been in effect, I wouldn't be working four part-time jobs.  Let's say it's the difference in money is significant.  It's a victory for the Next Me.

Of course, I'm still here.  While I work and I write and I believe and I bust my ass to get that next job, I'm not getting any younger, I don't have a rags-to-riches (or stripper poles-to-screenplays) backstory and the only thing I can say about my Manager at least ten percent of no money is, well, no money. 

This isn't oh pitiful me, I have no money.  Money is never about money, it's about freedom.    Freedom to head out for dinner if we don't feel like cooking.  Freedom to attend one of my good friend's wedding in Hawaii because she and her fiancee were two of the thirty-some people we had at our teeny wedding, and I'd love to be a part of hers.  Freedom to not choose between bills to pay, but to just pay the damned bills.

Heading to Florida on Thursday, which sounds bizarre in light of what I've written above.  But the SlackParents parents are visiting my aunt and uncle and cousins and told me they'd spring for the ticket.  A ticket that at 35 years old, I feel like a failure that I cannot afford (since I could afford it sans probleme at 30) but I swallowed my pride and said yes, thank you. 

But one of the best parts about working was being able to handle it all on m y own, and then some.  There are some days that I am so fucking proud that I can keep it together and work multiple jobs and keep up two blogs and a workout program as well as two sooper-seekrit projects and some days I think I'm a fucking idiot and maybe I should learn to cut my losses.  One of the things the strike taught me is that this is what I want to do,  This is what I've done.  This is what I've committed myself to.  So if that means more years of alarms set at 4:45am and telling my friends I'm tired or I'm busy when I really mean I'm broke but please don't make me say it, well, then that's what it takes.

Because the other thing I've learned doing what I do is that if you want to get your shot you gotta do the work, and if you do the work, well, the closer your shot will come.

I know I owe an update on the Post-Apocalyptic Workout.  Tomorrow, je promis.

Close Encounters of the NON-Celebrity Kind: Diablo Cody, Part Three.

Further to my run-in with Diablo Cody's #1 Fan, I present to you video of the event to show you that I do not make this shit up:

I didn't realize my friend Patty was taping us until about halfway through the video.  At the end when you hear Tomàs answer that phone call?  He totally faked that to get me outta there.

Could I sound more nasally?

Diablo à Deux, or I'd Like to Get Stabbed on My Own Merit.

Back in November, at the beginning of the WGA Strike, I was mistaken for Juno screenwriter Diablo Cody.

 

I even provided a handy Slackmistress-or-Diablo? guide which you can find here or here.

A couple of weeks ago, my friend Kate Coe at Mediabistro's Fishbowl-LA alerted me to a blog written by an aspiring screenwriter named Rodney.  Rodney, although not a member of the WGA, has been out on the picket lines supporting us.  Rodney also has nine things in common with Diablo Cody.

Rodney has been trying to get in touch with Diablo, presumably to share those nine things.  Rodney also has started to picket at NBC - the same place where I picket.

Today I showed up wearing something akin to the outfit I'm wearing in the picture above.  I arrived at the corner of Alameda and Olive when my friend Tomàs grabbed me.

That guy over there is obsessed with Diablo Cody, he told me.

Is that the guy with the blog? I asked.  Because that guy is cra--

Before I could finish, Tomàs exclaimed I can't believe it about your Oscar Nomination!  You're so young!  And to think you used to be a stripper.

Without missing a beat, I answered.  I know, but it's weird since they mention the stripper thing so much I always feel like everyone's trying to picture me naked.

The man made a beeline for me - so quickly, in fact, that I was convinced that I was about to be stabbed.   Those fleeting moments weren't about my husband or my dog, but the fact that I was about to be stabbed because this guy thought I was someone else. 

Dammit, I want to get stabbed on my own merits.

He stuck out his hand.  I'm Rodney, Diablo, I've been trying to get a hold of you, I sent you a message through MySpace.

He oozed insane but I felt terrible.  Plus I didn't want to get stabbed.  I'm sorry, I told him, it's a joke everyone plays on me when I show up.  People think I look like Diablo Cody, but I'm Nina. I stuck out my hand for him to shake.

Oh, he said, well, you look like her.  Are you a writer?

I am, I wrote for 17 episodes of Lizzie McGuire, as well as a bunch of animation, I told him.

Oh, I bet you're nice like her.

Um, thanks?  Well, good luck with your quest--

I have nine things in common with her, he continued.  D'you know we're both from Minnesota?

Actually I'm pretty sure she's from Illinois, she grew up not far from where I grew up, I told him.  So it's really more like eight things.

At this point Tomàs and our friends Patty and Arturo took a couple of photos* and dragged me to safety.

Diablo, I rode the crazy train as your amateur lookalike for you this time.  But next time, doll, you're on your own!

*Coming soon!

Adopt A Writer...

The lovely and talented Kimra McPherson interviewed me as part of the "Adopt-a-Writer" project.  The interview is already running on BuzzSugar and will be up at the Adopt a Writer blog, so make sure to check it out.

Once my 15 minutes are up, be sure to check out my husband's blog, as he seems to have stolen someone else's....

Edited to add: Here it is on the Adopt-a-Writer site.  Thanks to Kimra for adopting me!

Sunday's New York Times.

If there's one thing the strike has taught me, it's that being interviewed is always nerve wracking.  A week ago today, I spoke to reporter  Melena Ryzik - babbled, more like it - on what it's like to be a striking writer with a real job. Or three real jobs. (Soon four real jobs, I picked up a Sunday gig.)

The interview comes out in the Arts Section in tomorrow's New York Times, but if you look at first page of the Arts Section online, you may notice something(one) who looks familiar...

The full interview (and photo, thanks to Tomás!) starts here. 

How the AMPTP Stole Christmas.

So I was out at NBC picketing today. 

Patty and I, modeling our winter strikewear.

What does Nick Counter [President of the AMPTP] look like? Tomas wanted to know.

I bet he looks like the Grinch, I responded.

When I arrived home, I investigated further.  Guess what I found?

Separated at birth?

The Grinch appears for promotional use only.

Even StrikeBaby knows we deserve a better deal.

Future member of the WGA.

The AMPTP Has a New Website!

The AMPTP - or the American Motion Picture and TV Producers, the group who we're striking against - has a new website. 

From their most recent "breaking news" section:

December 10, 2007

We are heartbroken to report that despite our best efforts, including sending them a muffin basket, making them a mix CD, and standing outside their window with a boombox blasting Peter Gabriel songs, our talks with the WGA have broken down.

Check it out here.

Write vs. Right.

In the past few days I've been mentioned here, and here, here (thanks, snarkydork!), and oh yeah, here.  I've been called a skanky stupid hipster (hipster being the only one that I really took umbrage to) and was told that I ruined Christmas*. Specifically:

I wonder how tired that family is who is laid off at Christmas...sitting there wondering how they're going to feed their children, much less buy presents for the kids...because people like YOU are so incredibly selfish you can't stop to think of them for one moment and think striking is a viable option, thereby putting them out of work.

I guess those who celebrate Channukah or Kwanzaa or (wait, there's one more) are on their own.

Since there's a lot of people out there uneducated on the specifics of why we're striking (fr'instance, we are not "going back" on a contract - our old contract expired) United Hollywood has an excellent FAQ here.  But when it comes to those people who yes, we are putting out of work, I thought I'd highlight the following:

But what about all the people who are going to be out of work because you’re striking? Like camera assistants, and grips, and electricians, all the crew people? Don’t you care about them?

We care very much about the community we’re a part of.   And this is their fight too, even if many of them don’t know it.

Production crews don’t receive individual residuals like writers, actors and directors – but they do receive residuals as a group. And that money funds their health and pension funds.

These groups, (like IATSE, the Teamsters, IBEW, the Plasterers and Cement Masons, and so on,) represent the crew members. And last year, 55% of the money that went into their health and pension funds came from residuals.

If we lose this fight, their health and pension funds will be directly affected. In a huge way. Residuals on the internet, which is what we’re fighting for, will account for most residuals soon. If we don’t get a share, neither will those unions, because of the way collective bargaining works – what we get, they will get. And what we lose, they will lose.

If we lose, their health and pension will take a massive hit, which will only get worse with time.

...

When the strike was announced, I was less than thrilled.  Not because my writing salary would be taken away - I haven't worked on a WGA signatory show since 2003.  (A lot of animation work isn't covered, which is why it pays a lot less, and there are no residuals except a one-time fee for the show's creator.)  I'd hit a real wall when it came to my career, and I was working three jobs trying to cover my bills and figure out what next?  Law school? Vet school? Cooking school? Pack it all up and live off the grid? (Wait, that means no wi-fi, right?) Then I got that you-are-expected-to-picket-twenty-hours-a-week email and I was angry , but I did it, because, while I was pissed I knew it was the right thing to do.

I ended up at NBC because they were the only place that was doing late-afternoon pickets, so I could head out to the line after working my shift at the gym.  There I found Wan and Patty and Tomas and David and Steve and Bob and Diane.  Some of them were working pre-strike and some weren't, but all had faced the struggle of the blank page every day.  All of them at one time had dealt with a difficult studio or a terrible agent or the empty promises of you're great, we love you, you're our number one choice! followed by oh, I hired my sister's husband.  All of them laughed when I told them the story about how a network told me and Older SlackBrother J. that we didn't know how to write for kids after scripting seventeen Lizzie McGuires.

Writing is such a solitary act that you forget that there are other people out there just like you. Which is funny, when you think of it. You write about the human experience but sometimes you forget to have it.

That's not to say I'm happy that people have been put out of work so I could have a four-hour kaffeklatsch between work shifts.   Striking is always a last resort, and unfortunately, the AMPTP didn't really give us a hell of a lot of choice.  And while they might be stingy with the residuals, the residual effects of the strike have been apparent for me.  I have a renewed sense of purpose, a direction, a sense of camaraderie that we really are all in this together and we'll stick it out 'til the end.  Which will hopefully be twenty-two minutes and we discover in an act of deus ex machina that Nick Counter was actually replaced by an alien cyborg sent here from the future to destroy entertainment as we know it.

Stay tuned.

*An anecdote to my Scrooging: check out day four of BetheBoy's monthlong holiday cheer campaign here!

As If We Needed Another Reason to Hate the Bushes.

This just in:

Jenna Bush hates the labor movement; she crossed the WGA picket line today at NBC in Burbank in order to appear on Ellen to promote her new book "Ha Ha! My Daddy is President So I Get to Have a Book Deal and You Don't."

In similar news:  Sky Is Blue.

I was working (ahem) the Alameda gate when Miss Bu$h entered the lot at the main gate.  The writers were kept from crossing in front of her car by Secret Service; apparently the were afraid she would overhear and actually get our jokes.

You hear that, Carson?  You just need the Secret Service!

Just picked up by Fishbowl LA! (Thanks, Kate!)  Click for the best photo, ever.

And welcome, WGA_Supporters! If you're looking for more strike-related posts, you can find them here.

If you're looking for a little holiday cheer, check out today's BetheBoy: A Merry Little Person Christmas.

Strike-n-Nonsense...

Since the strike began, I've found myself with a new sense of purpose.  That purpose is: get sleep whenever I can.  Mondays find me working 5:30am-noon at the gym, running home to take out Daisy, then hopping in my SuperCar and heading over the hill to picket at NBC until 4pm.  I get home 'round 5, take the WonderDog back out, answer email, write a wee bit, then collapse on the couch until Mr. Boy gets home.  We scrounge up dinner, then I collapse back into bed to start another variation the very next day.

I am attempted to shoehorn into this schedule: daily blogging, vlogging, exercise, proper nutrition (unlike the three cookies and mug 'o caffeine I just had for breakfast), outlining/researching the new screenplay, freelance job, enjoying the fruits of marital bliss, and oh yeah, I just had an idea for a wee Internet Show I could produce all by my lonesome.

I am tired, people.

...

Yesterday, our fearless leader Patric Verrone came out to our picket line.

Being writers, and thus nerds, we jumped around like puppies at his arrival.  Much to the embarrassment of Wan (pictured above) and Tomas, I insisted we perform our multiple cheers.  Because I am Queen Nerd.

We also had a visit from a boy named Robert and his mom.  Robert brought Lottery Tickets and Scratchers to hand out to everyone on the picket line.

Finally, my belt buckle means I MEAN BIZNESS:

(As always, more strike photos can be found on my Flickr.)

...

THE LOS ANGELES BLOGGER MEETUP: Monday, December 17th 8:00pm-???

I have not heard back from the Red Pearl Kitchen (which, BTW, has 25% off for Guild Members, but I swear I had no idea!).  I may actually have to call them on the phone.  Please reserve this date in what I know if your already-packed social calendar, and email me if you haven't already if you'd like to go.

Speaking of holidays: Will is doing a month of holiday posts over at his blog.  BetheBoy Holidays make merry with Holiday Porn and Shoplifting Santas.

...

Also, today is the First Anniversary of the Slackmistress & BetheBoy Detective Agency!  In case you're wondering what would possess a somewhat sane girl to agree to marry a boy within six weeks of meeting him, start here. (Read from the bottom up.)