What fun!  Dorothy Parker had her vicious circle and I was invited to participate in Fearnet’s very own version – all about horror.  It’s a new Fearnet show produced by Rhianne Bergado who kindly invited me to participate in an episode with Shriekfest ‘s wonderful founder Denise Gossett, clever Fearnet writer Joe McCabe and 2001 Maniac’s provocative writer/director Tim Sullivan.

After free tapas and professional make-overs by the most delightful artist  (whose card I’ve misplaced and simply must recover – he had magic mascara and it was positively heartbreaking to remove his amazing eye make-up later),  we gathered around the table and discussed a variety of horror-related topics as we sipped wine while the cameras rolled.  It was funny.  In between takes we couldn’t stop the conversation we were so into it.  It was almost an inconvenience to have to wait for them to call “Action!” and “Cut!” until we remembered, “oh right – this is a show, not just us kicking back doing what we do.”

After we wrapped, several of us continued the chat long after the cameras were packed up and crew headed home.  In fact, Denise and I stayed so long we got trapped in the parking garage with seemingly no way out – until she cleverly figured out a way to trip the iron door and we peeled out of there, horrified we might be crushed in the process by the actual lion’s gate itself, laughing all the while of course.  Ah, horror folks – gotta love ‘em.

This was but one of several unexpected adventures this past week which has made meeting my fast approaching writing deadline more challenging than expected.  But as always, life has this nice way of balancing itself.  I subbed for another prof at my new college last night and showed the students, “Million Dollar Baby.”  It was refreshing to see somebody so diligently work toward a dream, without whining, without entitlement – even if she is just a character in a movie.

Before I take off for Tulsa on Thursday there is a seemingly impossible load of work ahead – prepping classes, grading papers, getting promo materials off to a few more fests, writing the last 45 pages of this screenplay, going over some contracts for Prom, and possibly scheduling time for Dolores’ final sound mix, a color correction session and getting dubs made -  not to mention packing and prepping for the next adventure.  I woke up yesterday  a bit panicked it all seemed insurmountable.  Today I awakened ready to conquer all.  Each and every moment these days it seems I’m working toward my own dreams.  In some way, I guess I’m already living them.  it comes down to the reality that when we love what we do, there’s room for every last necessary drop of effort.  “There is magic in fighting battles beyond endurance,” as Eddie Dupris reminds us.  Perhaps there’s  also magic in fighting battles beyond the space-time continuum as well.  With that, I best find a way to stretch a few more hours into the next couple of days.

Okay, I just love the alliteration in a Killingboxx review as sampled above.  Kudos, Guys, and thanks for their fabulous new review found HERE.  They also kindly highlighted Death in Charge in their feature on the Oklahoma Horror Film Festival to which we’re headed this weekend.  Reports on our Tulsa adventures to come.  Meanwhile, in other news…

Last Seen on Dolores Street is in very fine sound designing hands (hands that won an Oscar for their amazing work on Hurt Locker, no less – more news on that soon.)  Death also just got into fest #95 – will we make it to the big 100, Team?  That would be be sweet, though admittedly I’m not submitting it to more fests these days – we rely on the kindness of invites at this stage.  Similarly, Confederate Zombie Massacre! and I Spit on Eli Roth will screen as part of the Viscera screenings at the International Sci-Fi & horror Film Festival in Phoenix. Plus, stay tuned for an account of my entrance through the Lion’s Gate, but now it’s time to make the zombies.  Happy Sunday!

Congrats, Team!  trippin’ is to screen in a most wonderful place.  The very Lovecraftesque small British fishing town of Whitby where the fabulous Bram Stoker Fest happens!  I am very pleased about this one as I went last year and had a blast.  The festival is well run with great projection, a beautiful venue, super cool people, an outrageous opening night party with eye candy galore, and a wonderful mix of very eclectic horror films ranging from innovative micro-budgets to slick Asian horror films not yet released in the U.S. (like The Fox Family – keep an eye out for it).  We even participated in the first Vampire Walk up to the famous old Abbey which was the true inspiration for Dracula’s castle (okay, so  it was during the day, but fortunately nobody sparkled.)  It’s truly like entering a dark fairy tale.  Oh, and the fish and chips – wow! Anyway, looks like several of the team will be heading over so join us those who can.  For an account of last year’s adventures, you can find them beginning HERE.  Congrats, Team and thanks, wonderful folks at the Bram Stoker Fest – you rock and we can’t wait to come back for more!

…for the latest Deviant news that’s fit for print.  I had the great pleasure of being interviewed by Denise Gossett, the endlessly fabulous founder of the Shriekfest Film Festival, last month which has just been reprinted on the HELLNOTES website.  Meanwhile, Death in Charge just got into festival #94(!).  We’ll be screening at the Eugene International Film Festival in October about which I hear great things.  Hopefully we’ll get to find out firsthand.  Also, Death’s up for 6 new nominations at the Oklahoma Horror Film Festival as well, including Best Actress, Best Cinematography, Best Sound, Best Score, Best Director and Best Short – congrats, Team!

I have attended Sundance 4 times now.  The first time I had a winning screenplay at Slamdance.  The second and third time I had films screening at Tromadance, and the last time I was there simply for the love of the festival-going experience. Acceptance from Sundance itself, however, had as of yet, eluded me.  Many told me there was no point to even bother submitting, that the competition was too fierce and one had to have some connection in order to even be considered.

Interestingly, I had been told the same thing about AFI’s Directing Workshop for Women.  Needless to say, I’m glad I didn’t listen.Besides, I knew in the case of Sundance this just wasn’t true. I’ve met several directors whose wonderful films screened there and were chosen based on their merits alone.  Now maybe I was fencing with windmills again as I know I’m apt to do, but rather than get all bitter about it, I decided to toss my hat into this highly coveted ring, this time with a project for their screenwriters lab.

That was back in May and, quite frankly, I had long since forgotten about it in the flurry of activity this summer – moving, post-prod, pre-prod, fests, teaching, writing and non-stop meetings  (hence, the lag in blogging of late. There simply hasn’t been time.)

However, about 2 weeks ago, I ran into a friend who informed me she had made it to the second round of the Sundance lab.  I myself had heard nothing back and assumed that I had my answer.  She also told me that she’d had a very influential contact make sure her application got into the “right pile,” whatever that means.

Admittedly, I felt a bit down, but certainly not out.  I knew our project was on the right track.  I knew it because I just knew it, but also, in part, because just a few weeks prior I got one of the best rejections ever.

See, last year I had submitted a much rougher draft of Circus’ and my screenplay to the Film Independent’s Writer’s Lab.  We were rejected and the coverage was harsh, but filled with truly helpful comments.  It lit the necessary fire under our asses to rewrite it until it truly worked. And I believe we’ve succeeded.

A later draft went on to win the grand jury award at the London Independent Film Festival where a staged reading and consultations with producers in London assisted us with further rewrites.  I couldn’t even tell you what rewrite draft we’re on by now.  It’s been quite the journey.  But in spring we finally reached a place where Circus and I both agreed, our baby was ready to go out into the world.  Within weeks we had a producer attached and things have been moving forward at a promising pace.  That’s not to say there’s no work left to be done on the script.  But this is the draft that convinced us that THIS is the movie we want to make.  Hell, we NEED to make it.  And so we shall.

We re-entered a much tighter draft to the Film Independent’s writer’s lab this year and got positively glowing coverage.  In fact, the feedback was a bit too glowing, alas.  They ultimately concluded, “Though the script is terrific on many levels, it definitely feels more mainstream than it does indie, and frankly doesn’t seem to need the sort of heavy development work that the Screenwriters Lab provides.”

D’oh!  But not really.  I couldn’t have been a prouder parent.  That is, until last Friday.  In my e-mail inbox I saw what I presumed was my rejection form letter from the Sundance Lab.

Only, it wasn’t a rejection at all.  We did it!  We made it to round 2!

I know the odds are still against us, but this is a victory unto itself. It’s a rite of passage.  Sundance wrote US an e-mail offering congratulations and it literally gave me goose bumps.  THE Sundance.  Wow!  It might just be one small toenail in the door, but it’s a triumph nonetheless.  We’ve beaten astounding odds already.

Congrats and thanks to my partner Circus-Szalewski (with whom I’ve formed the DEVIANT CIRCUS) and to the many of you who have generously participated in our many screenplay readings and offered your feedback to get us to this point.   I can only hope we get to screen Paige & Hadley’s Prom From Hell at Sundance one day, but for now, it feels like the beginning of a lifelong dream.

Congrats, Team!  trippin’ just got into its 10th festival.  We’ll be screening at the Toronto Independent Film Festival next month!  Do let me know at once if any of you can make it out.  Sadly, our producer and I cannot attend (albeit for very fun reasons to be shared shortly).  But if any team members can make the trek out, it should be a good time.  Toronto rocks.  Congrats!

Thanks to KillingBoxx for their nice coverage of trippin’s  Atlanta premiere and Valley Scene Magazine’s  for their article on the Viscera Film Fest and our featured shorts I Spit on Eli Roth and Confederate Zombie Massacre! We’re also pleased to announce that Death in Charge just got into festival #93!  Congrats, Team!  Yes, we will screen at Horrorfind’s totally awesome Horrorfind Film Festival where years ago Teenage Bikini Vampire opened for the world premiere of Bruce Campbell’s  Man With the Screaming Brain.   I highly recommend attending this one if you can get out to Gettyysburg.  It’s a blast.  I wish we could go, but we’ll be at the Oklahoma Horror Film Festival which also looks mighty promising.  Alas, this also happens as the same time as our beloved Dragon*Con which we so sadly have to miss this year.  Sigh.  In other fun news, our little film Meat is Murder will be screening in Brooklyn later this month as well.  Good work, my fellow Deviants!

For those of you who want to practice your French, check out trippin’ directrix’s interview with Sci-Fi Universe HERE

Merci, Frederic!  Vous êtes très agréables!

My life has been filled with an uncanny amount of, well, uncanniness quite frankly.  Despite my fairly vast travels, the world seems so infinitely tiny at times, rather frighteningly so.  This latest episode, however, has me convinced that perhaps it’s not the universe, maybe it’s just me.  Or do things like this happen to everyone?

It all began with a small coincidence.  Last Monday I was just coming to the sad realization that I may need to seek some supplemental income prior to shooting our feature next summer and lamented aloud how I really missed teaching.  Moments later, I checked my e-mail to find out a friend at a local arts college learned of an immediate opening to take over, of all things, a horror film studies course (!) and might I be interested?

Seriously?  And get this, my course at Notre Dame had been called “Cultures of Fear:  The Horror Film.”  This one was called “Cultures of Fear and Horror.” Okay, that’s some serious serendipity, right?  But wait, if you act now we’ll include a heaping dose of serious mind-boggling irony at no additional cost…

So, I go in for an interview and it seems to be going great.  The college is my kind of place, a small performing arts institution with great course offerings and a delightfully familiar energy.  Walking through the halls I got this sudden overwhelming urge to break out into spontaneous grand jetés and pirouettes like they did in the opening for the TV show Fame, but somehow managed to refrain.  The Dean is super cool (a former New Yorker so we spoke the same language) and the class – well, it sounded like I was a perfect fit to teach it, as if I’d designed it myself.

After the portion of the interview where I was asked questions, shared my resume, past syllabi, teaching philosophy and so forth, it was my turn to do some asking.  The first thing I requested was a copy of the syllabus for the class I would be taking over mid-semester.  I glanced it over and at first I was relieved – I was definitely qualified to teach this course.  Then my heart sank a little realizing,  “Wow, this is almost identical to the course into which I thought I’d put so much innovation and original thought.  Clearly, my ideas weren’t special at all, except…wait just one minute…”

I looked to the Dean and said, “This is my syllabus.”

He nodded, pleased, “Right?  They’re really similar, aren’t they?”

Then I explained, “No I mean, this is MY syllabus.  Verbatim – down to the font, the format, even that day when I wrote “TBA” because I didn’t know if a guest lecturer would be coming or not.”

I couldn’t believe it.  Of all the gin joints in all the world…  What were the chances that I would be called in to a job interview to teach a class that had been designed by me without my knowledge?

Yes, this is my life.  Another bizarre coincidence that makes me wonder if I am on a lost spaceship without a towel, or perhaps an unsuspecting character in some Truman Show-esque experiment?

Honestly, you can tell me – do these  sorts of things constantly seem to happen to other people as well?  I’d really like to know.

The good news is I got the job – yay!  And I once again get to don my professorial cap and go back to school as of next week!  Regardless of whatever bizarre forces may be at work, I am beside myself with joy and gratitude.   To quote the Rolling Stones yet again – sometimes you get what you need (and want, too, in this case.  Better go practice being professorial now!)

It’s been an interesting week of time travel that made me grateful for being born when I was.  First, I added myself to the list of the many who’ve no doubt been stood up by Drew Barrymore over the years.  Some gal pals and I went to the Silent Movie Cinema for a screening of Foxes that was to be hosted by Ms. B, who was a no-show.  But she was not, in fact, the draw to this particular event.  Not for me anyway.  It was advertised as a “girls only pajama party” with wine coolers and a sundae bar (!) – how could I NOT attend?

Much to my delight, I was not the only one to arrive in robe, pj’s, curlers and such.  (Oh, and FYI, I don’t recommend driving in Bunny Slippers as I nearly learned the hard way.)  The theater was filled with grown-up teenage girls, mostly about my age, and who were equally outraged when some boys were permitted to intrude (they had purchased their tickets online, ignoring the “girls only” policy, and the theater couldn’t deny them entrance, alas. Still, I guess no slumber party is complete without boys trying to crash.

What was great about the event was this sense of camaraderie, humor and nostalgia that brought a room filled with strangers together like this.  There were no boys to impress, no self-consciousness or airs to put on.  We were the girls Cyndi Lauper sang of who “just want to have fun.”  I’m glad to know they still exist.  I meet too many young females these days who seem more interested in snagging a guy to put a ring on their fingers than being, well, interesting, quite frankly.  Life first, then boys, Ladies.  Trust me on this.

The movie was a fun visit to a former time when most in attendance would have been about 10.  We cat-called at Scott Baio, identified with Jodi Foster and laughed at a young Randy Quaid. We bonded as we swayed and sang along dreamily to Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” which played on the otherwise Donna Summer-driven soundtrack.  How familiar it all felt!

I revisited this feeling again last night when Agustin and I joined about 4,000 of the people we grew up with at a somehow still intimate English Beat/Squeeze concert.  (highlight of the evening, Dave Wakeling dedicated “Can’t Get Used to Losing You” to his liver)  As I looked around, I realized I was back in 1984 surrounded by my peers donning all manner of fun costumes – suspenders, bowlers, white patent leather shoes and the likes.  We all greeted one another with fond smiles, as though greeting old friends.  The guy who served us margaritas at the concession stand laughed as I commented, “Man, we don’t even need our fake id’s this time – sweet!”  and he launched into his own fun tales of our crazy 80’s youth.

Then a darling mod guy pass by and I sighed dreamily.  Sure his tummy was a bit rounder, his face with more lines, but he was still most charming and I’m glad to know he was still around (if my buddy Anne were there I would have said, Hey, it’s your boyfriend” and she would have gone right up to him and made it so, bless her).

Then I spotted a bewildered-looking kid who didn’t seem to fit in.  He looked lost in his non-descript jeans amid a sea of mods.  I was suddenly reminded of a B-52’s concert Agustin and I attended a few years back.  The crowd there had been comprised of 2 demographics:  half had been about our age and older – the original fans, the other half in their early 20s, clearly riding the “retro-80’s” new “new wave.”  I’d laughed because it was the older folks who donned the crazy multi-colored beehive wigs, giant platform boots and walked invisible dogs on taut novelty leashes.  The “young ‘uns” wore boring jeans and t-shirts and looked at us like we were all positively nuts.  I heard one comment to his clone buddy, “Old people are weird.”  I laughed, but then felt bad for them.  Were they too jaded for such antics, or had it not even occurred to them to be part of the joke?

I suppose every generation looks at the ones behind them with concern, but when I look at “kids today” many make me sad.  Are they still “free to be you and me?” as Marlo Thomas raised my generation to always remember and strive for?  Can they appreciate irony? Do they still find meaning in a meaningless world?  Do they know how to make  their own fun?

I remember how my mom would groan some mornings when I’d head off to school in one of my frequently outrageous costumes.  In retrospect, I don’t blame her for a few of the less than tasteful ensembles I put together, but hey – I was developing my voice – they couldn’t all be masterpieces.

Still, I was touched in a recent interview when Mum diplomatically told reporter Ann Wishart, “She always was an innovative dresser,” Snively said, adding she never knew when Devi would show up in her pink ballerina’s tutu. “Devi was pre-Annie Hall. She liked that look.”

Thanks, Mum, for not only understanding, but actually encouraging my crazy whims. It wasn’t ever really about the clothes so much, but what they represented – a way to speak out, break out, be free, find my voice in one more small way.  It’s also led me to find kindred spirits.  I was hardly alone in my inventive dressing.  Back in the 80’s, amid the automatons and pod people who populated my high school and beyond, there also seemed to be more of us who wanted to stand out, not fit in with the status quo.  Clothing was one way we could signal to one another, “Hey, I’m one of us, too!  Goobah Gabba, Dude!”

It’s also why I now laugh at stores like Hot Topic that mass produces “designer alternative wear.”  It sort of defeats the purpose of being “an individual.” Now cliché piercings, stereotypical facial hair and pretentious tattoos are as ubiquitous as Guess Jeans and Forenza sweaters once were among the preppie “in crowd” of the John Hughes era.  Hot Topic’s like the new Gap.  What message does shopping there send?  “Hey, I don’t need no freakin’ imagination to be hip and edgy -   I’ve got a mall and a credit card?”

I’m glad my generation values a sense of humor, a passion for creativity and things like art movements and music that still bring such a large group of us together .  I hope the generations following us have their own equivalent and perhaps I’m just blind to it being an outsider and all.

But no matter the case, Gen-X continues to rock on – so Fellow Gen-X-ers, I salute you (with an actual lighter as opposed to the cell phones many of you held up before last night’s encore – Really?  What was that, Folks?  Irony, I hope?) – Regardless, thanks for “keeping it mostly real (and always fun!)”

Incidentally, both English Beat and Squeeze were PHENOMENAL such amazing musicians and performers in general.  Go see them in concert if you get the chance.  It’s a brilliant show!