I’ve always loved writing for a variety of reasons. It’s a wholly creative endeavor, one in which I am able to create characters, the worlds they inhabit, and the events they experience. Call it a God complex if you like, but I’ve always enjoyed that sense of creation and control. Because I can see everything so clearly in my mind’s eye, and also because I love movies so much, I figured that screenwriting would be the perfect medium to make use of my talents.
When I was younger, I had dreams of following in the footsteps of Black or Eszterhas, selling spec scripts for upwards of $3 million. In college, I bragged that I was going to become the Puff Daddy of Hollywood — whatever that meant — and take over the game. I almost came close once, actually. But then again, who hasn’t “almost come close,” right? Now that I’m older and wiser, however, I’ve come to accept that I may not sell that million dollar spec. It’s not going to stop me from trying, but now my focus is more on honing my craft and writing so well that I’m offered assignments. So far, so … well … just so.