Pencils Up!

...with World's Worst Person, Strike Edition: Variety's Dave McNary!

Man, I'll miss ol' (and I do mean ol') Dave, for his slant, his shillitude, his outright lies, and his terrible prose. To wit, today:

"Some 92.5% of the 3,775 ballots cast were in favor of ending the 100-day strike, with 3,492 members voting yes and 283 die-hards ready to tilt at the windmill of continuing the work stoppage that began Nov. 5."

Tilt at the windmill of continuing the work stoppage...? Way to torture a sentence in effort to work in a Don Quixote reference that doesn't even make sense in the made-up fictional old-tymey context Dave's invented here. The strike's over, old man. Your work is done. Or rather, your big pen o' hack can now be pointed towards SAG.

During certain cold mornings on the picket line I entertained myself with thoughts of Cynthia Littleton -- a normally quite readable entertainment journalist and someone forced to often share bylines on strike stories with McNary -- and Dave working late on another hatchet job on the WGA, Chinese food congealing in open containers on their desks. It's midnight and only the janitor is still around, shutting off lights as he mops. They've been fighting over whether to have an "insider" call Patric Verrone "smug and militant," or "dangerous and untested," when the fraying nerves, the close quarters, and the MSG get the better of them and Cynthia grabs Dave's ancient brittle bones and pounces on him, and they slide to the ground in a dizzying cloud of Ben Gay, Chanel No. 5, and discarded journalistic integrity.

As for what happens to me now, the picture is not yet 100% clear. Today is the first day I can talk to the other side my entertainment partners and we can assess where we are. I'm in various places on four very different television pilot scripts for four very different networks & studios -- some are written and awaiting greenlight (or death), some are not yet written and I now have to see where they fit into this foreshortened and rushed pilot season.

I would have liked to have gotten more done during the strike, but something just did not permit it. I would like to have emerged from the strike with some new perspective or framing of priorities, or at least another completed novel, but I do not have that. I have 30 pretty good pages of a feature spec, a deepened respect for my fellow writers, a keen awareness of the difficulties the labor movement faces in this country, a confirmed suspicion for the media, and a handful of new friends. Not bad, all told.

Now back to work.