Julie Speaks

Remember the scene from Sabrina where Audrey Hepburn comes back from her life-changing trip to Paris all full of herself wearing that kicky little beret, suddenly woman enough to take on both Humphrey Bogart and Bill Holden? No longer a mere girl, she now fancies herself a world-weary femme fatale with an air of self-import and a whole lot of secrets to reveal.

Well, that's not how I feel at all. Mostly, I just need a nap.

Yes, I am back. Back from my brief flirtation with Hollywood success, back from my passing belief that I had arrived, once and for all, signed, sealed and delivered at last to somewhere very cool that was mine for keeps. It turns out there is no such address, unless you're Elizabeth Taylor, the artist formerly known as Prince or a member of the extended Spielberg brood. For the rest of us, "making it" in Hollywood means hopping to job from job, like frogs between lily pads where the others are never entirely convinced there's room for one more. Having completed my big fabulous debut screenplay for the Famous Mr. E., I find myself treading water, hoping to spot another passing pad that might have me before I run out of steam again. My last stint flailing around alone in the kiddy pool, as you may recall, lasted ten grueling years. I really should have thinner thighs by now.
Needless to say, all did not go well between me and my newfound movie star pals. This is still Juliewood, California, after all, where life is anything but a big screen dream, even now that I've started working. Though I'll be doling out all the dish on the ups and downs of my marginal success in coming posts, like any good story teller, it's my duty to begin at the beginning. The point before which there is nothing, as our old friend Aristotle defines it.

To my mind, that means responding to a small sampler of the many hundreds of increasingly desperate comments and shameless questions posted publicly and privately during my brief absence...

Lawrence said...
Are you saying that you can't blog while working on your project?
It's not that I couldn't, dear Lawrence, more like I didn't want to. Blogging or sleeping, which would you choose?There were days where peeing was a luxury, and don't get me started on breakfasting, lunching and dinnering, which was occasionally done between taking truly picayune producer notes. Again, I really should be thinner.

shecanfilmit said...
I miss your posts, but so happy you made it inside. Can't wait to read the memoir - you are writing one, right?
Yes! I've decided to call it "Julie Who?" (You get a lot of that in this town, even after they start paying you a truckload of money).

DJones said...
What's with these bloggers who get you hooked and then stop updating for almost two months at a time? And when they do update, it's a cut-and-paste job. Sheesh!
Bloggers, and bitches and bears, oh my!

Les Becker said...
Go, Julie!
I am, I am!

fridwulfa said...
It's good to see you're still around, silent, yes, but around after all. I quite agree with djones, though.
Of course I'm around, where else would I be?

pws said...
I, for one, am willing to wait between updates. That's what RSS readers are for.
My hero.

Earl Newton said...
I think I speak as the voice of reason when I say:
A) JGTH, miss your posts, but for God's sake, keep writing.
B) If everybody wants to pool together a fund of mid-to-high six figures to charm Julie away from the writing gig for a bit, I'm sure she'd be amiable. As long as we're not paying her electric bill, We've go no room to complain. ;)
My bigger, better hero. (With apologies to PWS).

Dan Fiorella said...
write on, girl, write on.
I see the makings of a sixties doo-wop hit somewhere in there. Is Bobby Sherman still alive?

Doug said...
One less thing to worry about in this crazy, mixed-up, topsy-turvy world.
I'm proud of you, Ms. Hollywood.
Damn, somebody figured out my last name.

pws said...
I thought viewers here might appreciate a link to this:
Screenwriters in the Shit
While Akiva Goldsman fiddles, more accomplished movie scribes burn
By NIKKI FINKE
...In a word, it stinks out there for screenwriters, worse even than the fetid stench of the usual shit flung at them in previous years. These aren’t wannabes, either. These are some of the top names in the biz. “I am fucking terrified,” a major scribe tells me about his year of not getting any work. “I can’t believe my career is ending like this.”...
Oh, dear. As my mother always says, "Just put on a little lipstick, dear. It'll make you feel better."

Sarthak said...
I love Julie........!!
All the best for all your film projects.
keep blogging.......!
Like I say, I'm baack.

Scribe LA said...
Julie - we miss you!
Come back soon:-)
Scribe
Wanna know a secret? I was here all along. Remember that whole deal with the ruby slippers? I could have written all that with my eyes closed.

fridwulfa said...
Well. Happy new year, and all that jazz. May 2007 be the year of your success. (or whatever)
Or whatever? Whatever else is there, dear?

Scribe LA said...
Happy New Year!! Cheers to 2007 bringing the beautiful.
Have a lovely time at Stars on Ice:-)
Scribe
Should I be creeped out that you know about my floor seats?

Moviequill said...
Timestamp: Feb 24... still keeping the faith you will return with updates
A time stamp? What is this, a day job at Ralph's? Honey, you know that's my greatest fear. That and having to go home to Umatilla and live in my father's RV.

chad said...
Please come back...
Please come back...
Please come back...
Rule of threes. There's a man who knows his story structure. See slippers, ruby, above.
Les Becker said...
Yes, please, Julie... you are so cruel.
Ka-shuh. (That was a sound of my black leather whip).

Heidi said...

Julie! I had another John Taylor moment and had to let you know: http://heidiwood.blogspot.com/2007/03/shouting-reflex.html
Oh sigh. Hope you are creating masterpieces!
h
Heidi, my soul mate, I read where they arrested a John Taylor stalker. I sincerely hope she isn't you.

The Moviequill said...

Time Stamp Easter Weekend April 8... I no longer see the humour in making us salivate like the industry dogs we are
Damn, Ralph's again.

Doug said...
*Slips off her watch*
Baby, I' 'm a slippery girl. Stay tuned!