Here's some cool stuff. I signed a couple of writers I found via Script Magazine's Big Break screenwriting contest. They did a nice highlight...
The interviewed my brand spankin' new clients here: http://www.scriptmag.com/2011/11/15/final-draft-inc-big-break-semifinalists-matthew-gayne-and-paul-gavin-gain-representation/
And they did a podcast interview with yours truly here: http://www.scriptmag.com/2011/11/23/podcast-manager-michael-kuciak-signs-big-break-standouts/
I'm out with Matt Gayne's THE HOBBY, and aiming to roll out Paul's THE REBOUND in Q1 2012.
I'm excited about everything on my slate... besides these two, I have a several really cool projects either in development or prepped and ready to go after the holiday season. Next year could be a good'un...
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
On Riding
Yesterday was the one-year anniversary of the motorcycle accident that put me on crutches and generally fucked up my life for the better chunk of a year... All while I dealt with losing my father, my uncle, and starting and running my own management/production company.
For a while, I thought I would take the day off or something, or at least not ride. But... you know what? Fuck that shit. I got up and rode again. So... while it banged me up for a while, it wasn't a permanent situation, and doesn't deserve some stupid holiday. Shit happened, I survived.
Besides, I had too much work to do to dream up reasons to handicap myself. I have a thriller coming together in a real way, and another on the horizon. There is a good chance 2012 will be a significant year.
It's always good to remember the lessons of the past, but at the same time the present and future will always be more interesting, and more important.
For a while, I thought I would take the day off or something, or at least not ride. But... you know what? Fuck that shit. I got up and rode again. So... while it banged me up for a while, it wasn't a permanent situation, and doesn't deserve some stupid holiday. Shit happened, I survived.
Besides, I had too much work to do to dream up reasons to handicap myself. I have a thriller coming together in a real way, and another on the horizon. There is a good chance 2012 will be a significant year.
It's always good to remember the lessons of the past, but at the same time the present and future will always be more interesting, and more important.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Beating the Hell Out of Myself
Today I put in my first real cardio workout since I dumped a motorcycle on my leg last year. I've been able to walk since May, but that was pretty much it. But I've been feeling pretty good, and I decided to get my ass back to 24 Hour Fitness.
It was a bunny slope of a workout, but I didn't want to take a chance and needlessly push myself. Besides, there was the whole "Is my leg going to collapse?" thing going on.
I'm glad I went. Now let's see if the ankle is gonna bitch about it tomorrow. If it doesn't, I think I'm on my way to a full recovery. I'm indestructible!
Also: some very cool Samurai MK stuff going on, and appearing on the horizon. Next year is shaping up to be interesting...
It was a bunny slope of a workout, but I didn't want to take a chance and needlessly push myself. Besides, there was the whole "Is my leg going to collapse?" thing going on.
I'm glad I went. Now let's see if the ankle is gonna bitch about it tomorrow. If it doesn't, I think I'm on my way to a full recovery. I'm indestructible!
Also: some very cool Samurai MK stuff going on, and appearing on the horizon. Next year is shaping up to be interesting...
Sunday, October 2, 2011
MISSING is an Austin Finalist
MISSING, the thriller by Samurai MK clients Steve Schoen & James Loos, is a finalist (top seven) in the Austin. Great stuff. Congrats, guys!
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Thursday, March 31, 2011
The Mind is a Terrible Thing to Taste
Once, when I was a teenager, I went on an archaeological trip to Mexico. I was never a swimmer. I took lessons, but I never quite learned how to swim. On this trip, I decided I was going to swim. I swam in every pool we ran across until I felt comfortable.
The very last day, we stopped at this underground lake that had been a holy place for the indigenous people. It was basically a flooded cave. I swam across to the other side and grabbed a stalactite. I started to swim back... and halfway across, out of nowhere, I started to get tired. Instead of just dealing with it as I would any other physical activity, suddenly my mind filled with the idea that there were many skeletons at the bottom of this ancient Mexican underground lake, and I would join them. I lost my shit and flailed around, convinced I would die. And when you're convinced of something, it's hard not to make it true.
Luckily, I was swimming with a friend, and he slugged me and dragged me to shore, and thus I am still alive. (There was another "friend" there, but he stood on the shore and laughed while this happened, but he was a douchebag anyway, so fuck that guy).
The point being...
On Nov. 13, I dumped my bike on my leg. When I stood up, my right ankle was bent at an unnatural angle. It was blown out. I could put zero weight on it.
Since then, by two week increments, my recovery has progressed: from boot and crutches with no weight on my ankle, to boot and crutches with weight on my ankle, to boot and cane, to boot and no cane, to Ace wrap and cane, to Ace wrap and no cane... at least around the lair.
I went to Arizona to visit my family. When I came back, I felt strong. I ran out of water for the coffee maker. This would not do. The nearest grocery store was about a mile away. I decided to walk there, with nothing but an Ace and boots -- no cane -- and see how it would go. Mind you, this is MONTHS after my accident.
I got there, no problem. Wandered around the store, finding my stuff? No problem. But on the way back...?
About halfway to my lair, I started to feel lightheaded. Not like I was going to pass out or anything, as I wasn't in any pain. But my ankle felt so weird and loose, it started to trigger a mental response. I felt the exact same way I did halfway back to shore across that underground lake in Mexico, like I was suddenly without a net, the worst could happen, and the worst would likely happen. Life yawned as an abyss underneath me. I was convinced my ankle was going to blow out, and I'd have to crawl back for blocks before I could call help. I know, it makes no sense, but that's how the mind worked.
I came to a bus stop. I sat on the bench for fifteen minutes, answering email on my iPhone. After a while of doing mundane tasks, I got my head back together, and simply walked the rest of the way without incident.
Yesterday, I did as little as possible. I wanted to recover, in all ways possible.
But I refuse to live in response to fear. Caution? Sure. Fear, no.
First thing, I got my ass out of bed and determined to walk to downtown Hollywood, maybe two or three miles. I took my cane, but I never used it. I walked the whole way there carrying an unused can in my hand. I got to Sunset and La Cienega, stopped at a coffee place and answered email. Then I walked back. Same thing -- cane in hand, but never touching the ground.
No problems. No flip-outs.
I think sometimes the mind needs a placebo, just something to let it know that an option is there, even if it's not needed, or even wanted. My cane sits next to me right now, a totem of potential, but unused. It's strange, but... whatever gets me walking, then running, then push-starting my motorcycle... Well, who cares how it happens, so long as it does?
The very last day, we stopped at this underground lake that had been a holy place for the indigenous people. It was basically a flooded cave. I swam across to the other side and grabbed a stalactite. I started to swim back... and halfway across, out of nowhere, I started to get tired. Instead of just dealing with it as I would any other physical activity, suddenly my mind filled with the idea that there were many skeletons at the bottom of this ancient Mexican underground lake, and I would join them. I lost my shit and flailed around, convinced I would die. And when you're convinced of something, it's hard not to make it true.
Luckily, I was swimming with a friend, and he slugged me and dragged me to shore, and thus I am still alive. (There was another "friend" there, but he stood on the shore and laughed while this happened, but he was a douchebag anyway, so fuck that guy).
The point being...
On Nov. 13, I dumped my bike on my leg. When I stood up, my right ankle was bent at an unnatural angle. It was blown out. I could put zero weight on it.
Since then, by two week increments, my recovery has progressed: from boot and crutches with no weight on my ankle, to boot and crutches with weight on my ankle, to boot and cane, to boot and no cane, to Ace wrap and cane, to Ace wrap and no cane... at least around the lair.
I went to Arizona to visit my family. When I came back, I felt strong. I ran out of water for the coffee maker. This would not do. The nearest grocery store was about a mile away. I decided to walk there, with nothing but an Ace and boots -- no cane -- and see how it would go. Mind you, this is MONTHS after my accident.
I got there, no problem. Wandered around the store, finding my stuff? No problem. But on the way back...?
About halfway to my lair, I started to feel lightheaded. Not like I was going to pass out or anything, as I wasn't in any pain. But my ankle felt so weird and loose, it started to trigger a mental response. I felt the exact same way I did halfway back to shore across that underground lake in Mexico, like I was suddenly without a net, the worst could happen, and the worst would likely happen. Life yawned as an abyss underneath me. I was convinced my ankle was going to blow out, and I'd have to crawl back for blocks before I could call help. I know, it makes no sense, but that's how the mind worked.
I came to a bus stop. I sat on the bench for fifteen minutes, answering email on my iPhone. After a while of doing mundane tasks, I got my head back together, and simply walked the rest of the way without incident.
Yesterday, I did as little as possible. I wanted to recover, in all ways possible.
But I refuse to live in response to fear. Caution? Sure. Fear, no.
First thing, I got my ass out of bed and determined to walk to downtown Hollywood, maybe two or three miles. I took my cane, but I never used it. I walked the whole way there carrying an unused can in my hand. I got to Sunset and La Cienega, stopped at a coffee place and answered email. Then I walked back. Same thing -- cane in hand, but never touching the ground.
No problems. No flip-outs.
I think sometimes the mind needs a placebo, just something to let it know that an option is there, even if it's not needed, or even wanted. My cane sits next to me right now, a totem of potential, but unused. It's strange, but... whatever gets me walking, then running, then push-starting my motorcycle... Well, who cares how it happens, so long as it does?
Monday, February 14, 2011
The Joys of Upright Mobility
Today is Valentine's Day. While many others celebrate their love for one another, I am celebrating my love of the fact that I can walk again.
I was in a splint, and either on crutches or a cane, for exactly ninety days after I dumped my motorcycle. Today, instead of the splint, I put on a firm Ace brace. For the first time since this mishap, I pulled on both motorcycle boots. I grabbed the cane just for good measure.
I stood from a chair and took a step. One of two things would happen: I'd either collapse to the floor, or I'd keep walking.
I walked.
I'm being very careful. I have yet to test the boundaries of this amazing, newfound ability. I walked to the end of a hall and back (using the cane), and now my ankle's letting me know it wasn't really crazy about that. So I have to take it slow.
But all things worth doing involve a building process, whether a career, a company, a relationship... or just recovering from an accident. Every day another brick goes in, until one day the house and done and we get to move in to situations of our own creation. In my case, it's building Samurai MK and working toward the day I can remount my motorcycle.
I was in a splint, and either on crutches or a cane, for exactly ninety days after I dumped my motorcycle. Today, instead of the splint, I put on a firm Ace brace. For the first time since this mishap, I pulled on both motorcycle boots. I grabbed the cane just for good measure.
I stood from a chair and took a step. One of two things would happen: I'd either collapse to the floor, or I'd keep walking.
I walked.
I'm being very careful. I have yet to test the boundaries of this amazing, newfound ability. I walked to the end of a hall and back (using the cane), and now my ankle's letting me know it wasn't really crazy about that. So I have to take it slow.
But all things worth doing involve a building process, whether a career, a company, a relationship... or just recovering from an accident. Every day another brick goes in, until one day the house and done and we get to move in to situations of our own creation. In my case, it's building Samurai MK and working toward the day I can remount my motorcycle.
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