Rhymes with Writer

That's the way somebody described Austin to me, and it wasn't far off the mark.

So many good things happened during my three day visit to the Austin Film Festival last week that it's essentially impossible (and stupid) to try documenting them all here, primarily because most people wouldn't really care how cool I found it to be sitting at a table with Franklin Leonard, the creator of Hollywood's Black List.

Hell, most people are probably wondering what the hell that is.

Anyway, a quick recap of some good stuff:

Michael Arndt (writer of Toy Story 3 and Little Miss Sunshine) blew my brain into tiny li'l pieces with his Sunday seminar breaking down story points in The Graduate, Star Wars, and Little Miss Sunshine. We're talking sending me out of the room re-evaluating the way I think about story kind of mind-blowing here.
Hearing more than one (six, actually) different producers/execs say essentially the same thing: "Yeah we don't like seeing camera angle stuff in scripts, but overall, if it's a really well told story, and we can tell in the first few pages, all the other stuff about CAPS, CONT'D, etc are just fluff. Can the writer tell a story and hook me/us in? That's what we're looking for". I love you all.
The 90-second pitchfest finale Saturday night at Aces. My new pal Troy's wife got to the final round, pitching their script in ninety seconds or less to panel of producers, including Barry Josephson, Mark Vahradian and Maggie Biggar. That sent me out trying to figure out how to do the same thing, and debating if I should try it next year.
Finding Bikini's sports bar a block from the Driskill Hotel. Dozens of flat panel televisions, great burgers and waffle fries, and waitresses serving food in bikinis. Yes, I went twice.
Austin itself. Saturday the 23rd was apparently El Dia del los Muertos, which explained all the people with faces painted to look like skulls. By the time I went to get my car from the lot on Brazos Street after attending the Shane Black party, Sixth Street looked like Mardi Gras, closed to vehicular traffic with hundreds of drunken loons in the street wandering around looking for cabs.

That's all in addition to my new friends met over the course of three days, and all the people who will be hearing from me for representation (except you, Greg DePaul, you're my new lawyer!).