A Holiday Stocking Stuffer

Hollywood Boulevard

I'm away from my beloved Hollywood celebrating Christmas with my family in Cincinnati, Ohio. The weather is  unusually warm, and last night I witnessed an intense thunderstorm (this is usually a summer occurrence) instead of the snowstorm I was hoping to see.

I've been enjoying spending time with family and friends-many who just can't understand why I live in California. 

Just Last night an old friend brought up something that I seem to hear on ever trip to the Midwest. "Why do you people in Hollywood constantly make fun of the rest of the country? In movies and on TV you make us out to be unsophisticated hicks! Except for the New Yorkers who you make loud and obnoxious."  (I was surprised he had any sympathy for the good people of New York since this is another city he detests.) 

Instead of going into into a long drawn out explanation involving comedy, writing for theatrical productions and stereotypes, I simply agreed. "You're absolutely right, Sometimes we do have fun with common perceptions of people in other parts of the country. And yes, many times these perceptions are inaccurate but the end result is meant to be enjoyable. And remember, no one makes fun of Hollywood and California better than those of us living in Hollywood and California."

I then wished him a Merry Christmas and excused myself to the bar for another glass of (California) wine.

I truly meant what I said last night. As evidence, here's a holiday video from  the CW's Crazy Ex Girlfriend. It's surprising how many truths can be found in this lighthearted video. 

Have a Happy Holiday!

Donna

A Hollywood Holiday

Seasons greetings from my neighborhood, Hollywood, CA USA.

 

This town is often misunderstood and filled with contradictions. But in December while it may be warm and dry,  it's beautiful and serene as nighttime skies sparkle and holiday magic fills the air. 

 Have a safe and Happy Holiday!

Strangers on a Plane: An Unexpected Connection

I hate to fly. I always have and probably always will. I've begrudgingly come to the realization that flying is a reality of life in the twenty-first century. Despite my fears and trepidations, I've accepted the fact that I'll be flying several times a year, either to visit my family in the Midwest, on business or on a rare getaway with my husband. My anxiousness begins as soon as I book a flight and last through landing-at the end of the return leg of my trip.

 Do I have any valid reasons to hate flying beyond the usual hassles that travelers encounter these days?  Maybe.  I was once on a flight that had to make an emergency landing after a drunk passenger claimed there was a bomb on the plane. This was pre 9/11 and the passenger was not taken seriously, but protocol was followed. My fellow passengers and I applauded the U. S. Airways crew for handling this situation quickly and discreetly, before disclosing all the details to passengers after the incident over. I think we all had a pretty good idea of what was happening when federal authorities surrounded the plane as soon as we landed with guns and dogs at the ready. The inebriated passenger (who would not have cleared the TSA screening process today) was dragged down the center aisle and off the plane. It was reminiscent of a scene from an Airport movie. In this post 9/11 age,  I imagine that several passengers on this interrupted flight would have severely hurt this guy long before we landed-primarily for the flight delay and unplanned detour to Albuquerque.

I know that several passengers are unnerved by the TSA. I for one have no problems with  security screenings, and I do have a valid reason to be unnerved.  I flew on the very first day that the TSA as we know it launched operations in American airports. There was a huge learning curve for the flying public and TSA personnel. I'd filmed a  commercial in the San Francisco Bay area and was returning to Los Angeles. The new protocol stated that passengers who had not purchased their own tickets would undergo a more thorough screening. Since the production company I worked for paid for my ticket, I went through a more intense screening, which I did not see as a problem or inconvenience. My carryon was opened and carefully searched by a petite female TSA officer. She pulled out a  plastic bag that I'd placed at the bottom corner of my small roll away bag, opened it and reached in to examine the contents. She eyed me suspiciously. "What's this?"

  I wasn't fazed. "A bathing suit."

 "Why is it wet?" She was suddenly very serious as the smell of chlorine wafted from the bag.

 I guess the woman was unfamiliar with the concept of wearing a bathing suit while swimming, but I remained courteous as I answered her question. "I wore this earlier today while swimming...in a swimming pool."

She replaced the bathing suit, completed the search of my bag and picked up a wand that she waved over my body. A machine beeped when the wand crossed over my torso which startled her. She now moved the wand closer to my chest which now sustained the machine's beep. "Why is there metal on this part of your body?"

 I remained calm. "I'm wearing an underwire bra."

This woman was taking no chances. She reached out and grabbed both of my breasts in her ungloved hands, squeezing until she felt the questionable underwire through my clothing. While I was surprised by this intrusive action, I managed to maintain my composure. Thankfully this was the end of the search.

I later spoke to a friend who was a purser for a major airline. He told me that the new TSA guidelines for physical searches of this sort were to be conducted only while the officer is wearing gloves, and only with the back of the hands. Many women, including Diana Ross and Nicole Richie have similar stories during the early days of the TSA. Over the next few years as I dressed for future flights, I took special care not to wear any undergarments that would make a physical search necessary.

And then living in Los Angeles, I am often faced with the monster of an airport known as LAX, an airport that seems to be constantly under construction these days.  But LAX is a subject for another post, or even a series of posts.



So many people are frustrated by the need to separate their liquids or having to remove their shoes and outerwear before the scrutiny of a body scan. Many travelers just can't understand the concept of arriving at the airport two hours early to clear TSA screening and or to deal with unforeseen circumstances that are common to travelers. And there are those who are like me-who just hate leaving the ground. Long gone are the glory glamorous days of flying.


But then it doesn't all have to be bad . I'd like to share a personal experience- a positive experience that took place on a recent flight.

I was returning to Los Angeles from the Midwest. I was booked on a direct flight from CVG (Greater Cincinnati/ Northern Kentucky Airport) to LAX. This morning flight was to last four and a half hours, which for me was four and a half hours too long.

While I had been assigned a coveted aisle seat, I requested and was reassigned to a window seat at the gate with an apology that the only window seat available was 31F at the rear of the plane. I didn't care since the rear of the plane arrives at its destination at the same time as the front of the plane. I need a window. Call me crazy but I need to be able to see the ground when I fly.

This flight is usually full, but to my surprise, the center seat of this row was empty as the plane's doors were being prepared for departure. I smiled at the woman in 31D, the aisle seat. "I don't believe it! I guess we'll both have some extra room on this flight."

She returned my smile. "Oh. Is it unusual to have a vacant seat like this?"

"On this particular flight, yes. I'd compare having an empty center seat to winning $25 in the  lottery. Hardly life changing, but the win still feels good."

This made her laugh.

I'd brought work to do on this flight. I had a proof of my new book that needed to be read and revised as my October deadline loomed closer. After takeoff, I busily got to work with my pencil and highlighter. But then again, I hate to fly. While the weather was perfect and the skies were clear and turbulence free, I was having a difficult time concentrating. After two very long hours, I closed the book, frustrated that I hadn't made more progress-and was going to be in the air for at least two more hours.

That's when the woman on the aisle made a comment. "You must fly often. You're so relaxed, calm... and organized." She'd noticed that I'd arranged my space strategically by placing a few items including my water bottle and travel blanket close by while being cognizant of not using more than  one half of the empty seat between us. Her warm smile was genuine.

 For the first time during the flight, I really took notice of this woman. She was slim, soft spoken and had expressive blue eyes. I guessed she was in her seventies. "This has been a smooth flight. Do you fly often?"

"I seem to be flying more now. But to be honest, it's not something I'm comfortable doing. I wish could relax like you. You seemed to be into your book. Is must be good."

I wanted to laugh at her thinking I was relaxed, but she'd asked me about my book-and wondered if it was good. I felt odd answering. "Well...I think so."

She timidly continued. "I noticed you were taking notes as you read. My father used to take notes while he read. I still have several of his books, simply because they have his handwritten notes in the margins. To me it's a way to keep his memory and thoughts alive-though I have no idea why he took notes."

I found her remark interesting, but a rather personal detail to share with a stranger. I explained the reason for my own note taking. "I'm taking notes because this is my own book. I'm a writer. I'm in the editing process of my new novel and am making revisions on this early copy...or proof." I showed her the book's back cover so she could see my photograph.

"Oh my! May I?" She took the book and read the back cover before turning it over and examining the front cover. "Your cover is mysterious...and beautiful! And the plot sounds interesting. I'd like to read your novel it once it's published. How would I do that?"

I handed her a business card with the proper information that she carefully tucked into an outside pocket of her handbag.

The next thing I knew, I was engaged in a sincere conversation with a total stranger. We discussed a variety of subjects, like the changes in the area where she was living and where I had grown up. We discussed local politics and places that didn't exist anymore, and why this seemed to sadden both of us.

But as we continued to talk, our conversation became more personal. She was not in her seventies but in her eighties. She was travelling to Seattle to visit her brother who was recently diagnosed with cancer. She told me about her almost sixty year marriage to her high school sweetheart, and how difficult it was to lose him.  But she also told me how she had continued on with her life. I found myself telling her about losses in my own life while she assured me that life continues. She urged me to always remain positive no matter what life brings your way.

Our conversation flowed easily and organically. It was never uncomfortable or forced. Before I knew it we were beginning our descent into Los Angeles. Time had somehow passed very quickly.

"Is LAX an easy airport to maneuver? I have almost an hour before my next flight, but I still worry."

I wasn't going to tell her that LAX could be intimidating for even the most seasoned passengers, or that Delta Airlines occupied two terminals. I prayed her connecting flight was in the same terminal where we would soon be deplaning. In any event, I would be making sure she got to her connecting flight to Seattle.

Several minutes later we were entering terminal 5 at LAX.  I asked the waiting Delta agent where this nice lady would be catching her connecting flight. Of course, she would need to get to terminal 6 which would involve an escalator ride to a lower level and a shuttle ride to the next terminal. I walked her to the escalator. "I could wait for the shuttle with you if you like." For some reason I was feeling protective of my fellow passenger as she looked at the terminal sprawling out beyond her.

"Please don't worry about me dear. I'll be fine. Thank you for your kindness."

I was slightly embarrassed as I asked, "What's your name?" I hadn't asked before this moment.

Again, her smile was warm. "I'm Charlotte."

"It was lovely meeting you, Charlotte. Have a safe trip."

She reached out and gave me an unexpected hug. "Thank you, Donna." She stepped back slightly. "And I will be reading your book!"

I know that in this day and age, striking up a conversation with a complete stranger can be awkward and intimidating. To be honest, my conversation with Charlotte was a fluke. I've never been one to strike up conversations with strangers. I've often found myself boarding a plane and praying that the person next to me isn't a talker. I usually plop down in my window seat and hurriedly pop in ear buds and open a magazine or my kindle which I hope sends a clear do not disturb message.

These seemingly awkward encounters don't have to be annoying, though I'm sure most of us have horror stories about the unpleasant  person seated next to us on a plane. On the contrary, these chance meetings might be pleasant. Since my flight with Charlotte, I wonder how many pleasant encounters  I may have missed.

I recently told a friend about meeting Charlotte. My friend is an actor/comedian with several impressive credits. Luckily he's among the ranks of actors who have a long resume but is seldom recognized in public. He told me a story about a flight he'd had two years ago. He boarded the flight in a bad mood and found himself praying that no one would be seated next to him. He just knew he wouldn't be good company. Of course, another person soon took the  seat next to him and began chatting. At first my friend responded to be polite as he found himself looking for a book to use as a means of stopping the conversation. But the conversation never stopped. By the end of the flight my friend and this complete stranger closed a business deal where my friend would be emceeing and performing comedy for  a huge corporate event in Miami. This chance meeting led to additional performing opportunities for my friend, opportunities that may have never happened had he not spoken to his fellow passenger.

Many of us will be travelling this holiday. As temping as it may be, don't shut yourself off completely. Consider keeping yourself open to the possibility of connecting to a stranger. As artists, our raw materials are often the people and stories that we'll infuse into our projects as we reflect the human condition. I firmly believe that the more people we encounter,  the more we'll understand our own corner of the world. With more interpersonal interactions, we have more experiences to pull from as we create art, and as a result have projects that are deeper and richer in their portrayal of humanity.

I have a personal message for Charlotte from Northern Kentucky who was on a Delta flight to Los Angeles before connecting to her flight to the Northwest last September.

It was an honor and pleasure meeting you. Thank you for reminding me that the art of conversation is still alive and well, and that  a chance conversation , even when its shared between two strangers, can be a positive experience. I enjoyed sharing the flight (and the empty seat) with you . I hope life is treating you well.

Donna (the author in 31F)






    

Living in the City of Angels: Observations from a Midwestern Transplant

At home in Hollywood on a typical autumn day

I'd always dreamed of moving to New York City one day. While I’d wanted to attend college there, my parents were terrified by the idea of me being in New York alone. However they told me that they felt there would be too many distractions in New York. In retrospect, they were probably right.

I attended Emerson College in Boston, MA. As my graduation date approached, I was making a plan that would get me to New York to begin my acting career. Instead, fate intervened in the form of a contract with a Chicago theatre company. I stayed in Chicago for three years where I joined the actors unions, did theatre, a few film and television projects, several industrial films and television commercials. In Chicago, I concentrated on learning the business of the business-in preparation for my move to New York.

But again, fate intervened. As I was starting to do my preliminary New York relocation research, an opportunity in Los Angeles dropped in my lap. I’d never thought about  Los Angeles. I knew nothing about LA and certainly never thought of living or working on the west coast. But for some reason, I booked a flight with the intention of staying for a few weeks. Chicago was having a bad winter and I wanted a break from the cold and the snow.

Long story short, I never returned to Chicago. I can’t explain what happened, but upon my arrival at LAX, I felt like I’d come home. I eventually settled in, had some wonderful professional opportunities, and three years after moving west, I met the man who would become my husband.

I was born in Ohio, went to school in New England, and spent three years in Chicago. I’ve travelled quite a bit and cannot imagine living anywhere else other than here in the City of Angels, Los Angeles. I often find myself feeling protective of my adopted city which is often maligned by people living in other parts of the country. Their assumptions are often based on broad stereotypes seen in films and on television. If anything, we know how to make fun of ourselves. Los Angeles is really just  like any other American city, full of neighborhoods, families and hard working people. LA just happens to be the entertainment capitol of the world ,which gives the city it's unique mystic.

Here are a few things I've learned about living in the City of Angels, Los Angeles, CA.

10. One day, you realize that you speak and understand Spanish though you’ve had no formal training. Es bueno.

9. Usually, earthquakes are nothing more than annoying occurrences. This is especially true if the ground starts shaking before your alarm goes off which causes you to lose those last few minutes of precious sleep.

8. You can network anywhere; at corporate events, at Starbucks, at your kid’s soccer game, and at weddings and funerals. It’s not strange or rude. In fact, I believe it’s expected.

7. Visitors from other parts of the country are surprised at how friendly everybody is here.

6. Everybody has an entertainment connection. My mother in-laws surgeon was a consultant on the NBC show ER.  He was also George Clooney’s surgical hand double. (And yes, his hands were gorgeous!)

5. You do not have to go to the trendy boutique or hot new restaurants to see celebrities. Many do their own grocery shopping, go to the neighbourhood coffee place, or get their nails done at the same salon you do. Most of us locals are not fazed by these people (because they’re only people). They just happen to work in front of the camera.

4. The camera really does add ten pounds…and I’m speaking from experience.

3. You can find anything at virtually any time in this town. (Vegan soul food, anyone?) I once went to Home Depot at 3AM…because I could. My husband was out of town. I couldn’t sleep, and Home Depot was open 24/7. I easily found someone to mix my paint and was back home within an hour. I was able to start my weekend project of painting my bathroom earlier than expected.

2. Yes. The traffic is bad. Horrible even. But you learn to live with it. I recently returned from San Francisco via LAX. My trip from the airport to my home in Hollywood was twice as long as my flight.  But there’s a trade-off…

1. THE WEATHER IS FANTASTIC! It’s true. However, we’re spoiled. If it’s not sunny, seventy-five degrees with a mild breeze coming off the ocean, we complain. Right now it’s currently sixty-eight degrees, and I’m freezing.

If you ever have the chance to visit LA, be careful. You too might be seduced by this town and never want to leave. I’m speaking from experience. Several years ago I began a love affair with the city I am proud to come home. I love LA!

A Post NaNoWriMo Experience

For those of you who’ve successfully completed the NaNoWriMo challenge, congratulations! To those of you who participated but may have fallen short of your goal, I also send good wishes. The challenge is not easy, especially when you’re standing at the base of a 50,000 word mountain. I believe that the mere act of starting this challenge is a major accomplishment.

But remember, life continues after November's novel writing challenge. I’d like to share a few of my own experiences, post NaNoWriMo.

My project, Fall Again, began as an idea for a short story that I never found time to write. Timing is everything. In mid- October of 2012,I realized the NaNoWriMo challenge was starting in a few weeks. I had been thinking about my story idea for so long that I feared it had grown well beyond a short story format. Perhaps it could become a novel. The truth was that I didn’t know if I had 50,000 words in me.

Fall Again was to be a romantic novel set against the backdrop of working actors. The story takes place in New York City, Los Angeles and points in between over two decades.

On November 1, 2012, I actually remembered to start writing and continued writing every day. I reached my 50,000 word goal on November 20, while the actual novel was completed ten days later on November 30, coming in at just over 80,000 words. I was very happy and excited as I printed (and framed) my certificate. I enjoyed the well wishes of friends and family for the first few days of December while languishing in my good feelings of accomplishment. Then, I put the manuscript away until after the holidays.

Several weeks later I reread my manuscript. Time away from my project had changed it somehow. What had been pretty good in November was now barely mediocre in January. I realized I didn't have a novel. What I had was a passable first draft. A friend who has been writing professionally consoled me as he encouraged me to keep writing. “You know what Ernest Hemingway said, don’t you? The first draft of anything is shit.”

By mid-January I was now back in writing mode, only now with a much deeper understanding of my characters and story. I realized that while I’d written an okay beginning and end of my novel, I had somehow ignored the middle. My month long separation from my manuscript helped me to see the manuscript more clearly and with critical eyes that did not exist during November where I wrote quickly.

Now I was writing at my own pace as I developed my main characters and added a few more that hadn’t made themselves present a few months earlier. I changed a few key plot points which led to new pivotal scenes.

Months later, and after forcing myself to stop writing, I gave my manuscript to a mentor to read for an honest critique. Three weeks later we met for lunch so we could discuss the manuscript. He found it amusing that I was rather anxious about his critique which he didn’t begin until we’d placed our food order.

He began slowly. “Well, I don’t think you have a novel.”

I let out a deep disappointed sigh as I sank against the back of the booth.

But he hadn’t noticed and continued. “I think you have at least three, or maybe even four novels here. Have you ever thought of turning this into a series?”

  I barely had time to process this information as he asked me another rather surprising question.

“And are you thinking about self-publishing, or trying to go with the more traditional route?” Was he joking? I’d never considered actually publishing my novel. But then I’d also spent close to a year working on a story that I believed in with characters who I liked and respected. Maybe their story needed to get into the hands of readers. The more I considered this idea, the more I liked the idea- the frightening idea of people reading my story.

I returned to my desk and turned my (very long) stand-alone novel into a four-part contemporary romantic series. There were more weeks of solid writing, then revisions, and then editing. I went through angst and frustration as I formatted the first novel to a Create Space template. Pagination almost drove me insane.

My mood improved greatly when I received my first proof. The project that had begun almost three years before as an idea for a short story, was now a fully realized novel. My novel which I was now holding in my hands.

After a final edit and a few final revisions, I came to the conclusion that the first part of the Fall Again series, Beginnings, was complete. I honestly didn’t want to let go of the project that had become another full time job, and a rather large part of my life. But on May 28, 2015 at 1:30 in the afternoon, I clicked a box on my laptop’s screen- the box that read, publish.

On November 13, I published the second installment of the series, Fall Again: Lost Boy. In 2016 I plan to release the last two books in the series, Fall Again: California Girl and Fall Again: Reunion. 

This unexpected journey has been rewarding on many levels. I have become a better writer. I’ve met many people I never would have encountered had it not been for the Fall Again Project. I’ve discovered that I truly love writing and plan to continue.

I’m still struggling as I try to find the proper balance between writing and the rest of my life. Maybe one day I’ll solve the Rubik’s cube that is marketing and promotion. Many of the technical elements necessary to writing and self-publishing still leave me frustrated, but I’m leaning, and it’s getting easier.

This was my journey. Back in 2012 when I began the NanoWrimo challenge (praying that I had 50,000 words in me), I never imagined myself as a publishing anything. I simply had a story that I wanted to tell- a story that I later hoped people would enjoy.

This summer I received this message on the Fall Again Facebook page.

"I really enjoyed Fall Again: Beginnings When will the sequel be released and how many sequels will there be?"

I couldn't have been happier. So again, congrats! You deserve it. The challenge has come to an end, but this doesn’t mean that your writing has to stop. Why don’t you see where your writing can take you? Everyone’s experiences, post NaNowrimo as in life, will be different. I seldom give advice, but in this case I’ll make an exception. Enjoy the ride! Best wishes.

Donna 
 

Night Visitor

What happens when you don't listen to your characters?

They keep you up at night.

 

The sexy voice wakes me. “Could we talk for a few minutes?”

I roll over feigning sleep but that doesn’t stop him.

“Please… I only need a few minutes. I promise I’ll let you come back to bed-and pretend to sleep. Get your notebook and meet me in your office. And please, try not to wake your husband!”

It was Marc with his irresistible charm, offbeat sense of humor and incredibly sexy accent. I know Marc well…intimately in fact; he’s my primary male character in my romantic series, Fall Again. He knows I’m making final edits in the first novel Beginnings and feels it necessary to give me his input and refuses to leave. The digital clock display shines 2:33AM.

Thankfully, Marc hasn’t asked me to bring the laptop which means I might get back to bed at a reasonable hour. The last time he insisted I bring the laptop, I didn’t crawl back into bed until sunrise.

While Marc does not exist in the real world, he’s very real in my imagination, just like all of my other characters. In the past few weeks several have come to me with concerns; Gary made me aware of a discrepancy in my timeline. Lauren had a problem with her wardrobe in one scene, fearing that I made her look desperate. But at least they had the courtesy to make me aware of these issues during reasonable hours. Only Marc sees the need to wake me in the early morning hours.

I tighten my robe, settle in at my desk and open my notebook as I wait for Marc to explain the reason for his unexpected early morning appearance.

“You need to revisit the opening scene on Sunset Boulevard.”

 I’ve written and rewritten that scene more times than I can count! I want to slam my notebook shut, but I don’t. Truth be told, I’ve never been completely happy with this pivotal scene.

 Marc sees that he has my complete attention, and eloquently presents his case.

While pleased with my last revision, he feels the scene can be stronger and wants me to dig deeper emotionally. He asks me to think about the scene and consider all the elements. He reminds me that not only has there been a long passage of time in addition to shock and surprise, but there’s also a great deal of pain. “Pain. You’re ignoring the pain that Lauren and I have been living with for years!”

And in the wee hours of the morning, Marc makes sense and I find myself making notes that will be incorporated into my manuscript during my next writing sessions when I’m fully awake. Marc as usual, is right. 

Marc’s sexy voice makes me smile. “Keep me honest and I’ll let you sleep. I promise! Goodnight.”

And he’s gone.

I close my notebook and make my way back down the dark hallway to bed for what I hope will be a few hours of restful sleep. 

I suppose I shouldn’t expect anything less from any of my characters.  I’ve endowed every one of them with integrity. I will respect and listen to them no matter the time, because I know they’re usually right.