This week's Answer:
I think that's an excellent, idea,
Glenn. Yours truly dabbled in the wonderful world of
ornithology (I remember it well as though it were
yesterday: We (all us ornithologists) would all rise
before dawn and be in their natural habitat, seeking out
those wonderful creatures, the orns). I mean,
"birds." We'd seek out our feathered
friends. It was such fun and extremely educational --
even if it was sleep-depriving. And we
ornithologists would learn how to identify them by
their voices, the way they'd do their bird calls (which is
understandable since they were birds).
My path was different from yours,
Glenn. I thought about giving up bird watching,
altogether. (I mean, come on. How many
times can you get up in the dark, freezing your
bird-watching toes off, and so bleary-eyed that you put
your pants on inside-out and wear them like a
jacket? And if I hear one more whippoorwill, I'm
going to grab the little thing and wring its... Ahem...
Now, where was I? Oh, yes.) I thought about
giving up bird watching altogether, which I did.
took up screenwriting.
You may find bird watching quite
similar to some aspects of the screenwriter's
career. Like a birdwatcher, I use my binoculars
often to spot producers who take early walks before heading to the studio or office.
And, as with bird watching, you learn to identify the
specific sounds associated with producers such as the
humming of the engines of their BMW's, Rolls, Porsches,
etc. It's a fascinating study that leads one into new
and exciting places. (It's fortunate I have a good
Some of my friends and therapists
think that I've gone a little bit too far, but I've always
lived by this famous and wise saying:
early screenwriter catches the producer.