8 Rules For Surviving Screenwriting

(This is the last post in my series on professional screenwriting.)

So you sell your screenplay, and then what?

You get that first professional job and all those dreams of becoming rich, famous, and respected for your cinematic brilliance are about to come true.

Until the alarm clock rudely wakes you up.

Because you, my dear friend, are definitely dreaming.  Never lose sight that those visions of greatness that brought you to Hollywood have nothing to do with a real-life screenwriting career.  The true work of the professional is being able to take a punch below the belt and to keep going.

I don’t know how Astrid Cruz knows this about screenwriting, but she does.  When we traded emails last month, and she asked me what it was like to be a professional screenwriter, I was amazed to see such a keen understanding about the most difficult part of the job: surviving.

“What you write will be taken to pieces by a director, rewritten and reshaped, ” Astrid wrote me, with a sophisticated savvy of filmmaking well beyond her years.  “Does it bother you?” she wanted to know. “Does it hurt you that some of your writing may never make it to the screen?”

Does surgery hurt without an anesthetic?

“But how do you let go?” was what Astrid really wanted to know.

Reading this last question that this young screenwriter/filmmaker/student sent me made me realize this is what they don’t teach you in film schools: the truth about Hollywood, and how to survive it.

So here’s what I’ve learned along the way…

Tips They Won’t Teach You At Film School

The first rule in screenwriting is:

#1: Don’t take it personally. 

The biggest problem about Hollywood is that everyone will seem like your friend.  Remember:  They’re not.  If you think your agent, manager, producer, director, or studio executive really cares about you, you should get back on the bus right now and go home.  I don’t care how many parties they invite you to, or how many muffin baskets they send you, Hollywood is a business and screenwriters are simply part of the machinery.  And machinery can be replaced.  No one ever takes a machine personally.

#2: Yes, you will get screwed (or rewritten) eventually. 

If you’re asking “Why?” you need to re-read Rule #1.

#3 Getting paid definitely soothes the pain, especially in the “letting go” stage of screenwriting.

I don’t want to sound like some creative whore, but getting paid for the job helps you to move on to the next job (which hopefully you’ve already started writing – more on that later). When you’re able to pay your rent, clothe your children (or yourself), buy a car, and have something left over for unnecessary baubles, over-indulgent vacations, and the next generation of Apple products, you’re able to say to yourself, “Okay, so this is why I go through all the pain.”

As a screenwriter you have to come to terms with the fact that the only draft that you own is your first draft. You learn to put all of your unbridled passion, brilliance, and hope into that first set of 110 pages. Of course, you will be certain that no one will ever change a word because it’s so brilliant, and of course you will be lying to yourself. But screenwriting is like giving birth – you eventually forget the pain and go on to conceive again, only to go through the grunting, bloody, painful event once more (if you’re lucky) at some later date. That brings me to the fourth rule of screenwriting:

#4 Nothing you write is perfect.

As soon as you put your story down on paper and turn it in you will begin to get notes from everyone. And not just the director. (NOTE: Usually a director isn’t hired until the script is “green lighted” by the studio. Unless the director is developing the script through his own company, but that’s another story completely.) If you’re a professional screenwriter and lucky enough to have your script “green lighted” and a director is hired that means the cocoon stage of your story is about to end and an entire new creature is about to be born. You can only hope it emerges beautiful and looking somewhat like what you imagined: a beautiful butterfly – and not some blood-sucking parasite. But a screenwriter must live in a constant state of denial and always expect the most beautiful of butterflies to be born from our well-crafted cocoons. Yes, and that brings us to the fifth rule of screenwriting:

# 5: Keep your head down, working on your next screenplay.

Forget about that script you spent a year and a half writing that is now in the middle of its transformation into a film. Just separate from it as quickly as possible. Literally, take the money and run because as brilliant as you felt on that day when your agent/producer/studio executive called to say, “We’ve got a go!” you will feel like a total failure when the “production polishes” begin.


Chances are they won’t be coming to you for those polishes. Every director wants to leave his imprint on the screen – like a dog pissing on a tree. Yes, I’m using the male pronoun because in spite of Kathryn Bigelow, chances are the director will be a guy. Please check out this link: http://www.thewrap.com/music/article/sexist-hollywood-women-still-struggle-find-film-jobs-study-finds-74076 , and if you’re a woman in the film industry, try not to sob too much while reading it.

No director ever takes a film job and sets out to do what the screenwriter has written. Suddenly, this very perfect piece of writing that was so great, so exciting, so promising that people wanted to invest millions of dollars into making it, has morphed into a flawed, terribly-executed, lackluster piece-of-shit that only the brilliance of (fill in here with the name of a current director) can save. And how does the director do this?

By bringing in another screenwriter.

Depending on how prestigious this director is, this can be a name screenwriter that commands more money than you received for writing the story in the first place. When this happens, you can kiss your solo writing credit goodbye. Especially if the new screenwriter has time to do a total rewrite. When that happens, you’ll be lucky to even end up with a “story by” credit.

Rule # 6: It’s all about the credits.

When you get a credit for writing a screenplay you get paid every time that film plays somewhere – on television, on a DVD, or as a download. Also, when you get a credit you automatically join an elite club of professionals.  Production credits are what get film professionals more jobs. Whether the film sucks or not will determine what kind of jobs you’ll get in the future. But if your agent is smart you’ll have at least a year and a half to two years to line up as many jobs as possible (hopefully, good ones) until the film is released and dies a quick death either in reviews or (more importantly) at the box office.

As if you couldn’t tell by now: Going through the screenwriting process hurts like hell. Most of the time you can rant and scream in private, or throw things at home (I had a black walnut tree in my backyard where on more than one occasion I would hurl a recently emptied cocktail glass against its massive trunk, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces while imagining it to be the head of some producer, director, or studio executive). But the real test of a screenwriter’s mettle (and ability to develop a poker face) is during a “notes session” at a production office. To understand how this works, you have to know how a screenplay is developed.

Understanding Your Deal

There are two ways a script is developed and a screenwriter gets a job: 1) Write your own screenplay based on your own story and sell it. 2) Get hired to write a screenplay based on someone else’s story, idea, book, play, comic, or video game. Originals can sometimes bring in more money, especially if it’s a hot topic, or a unique premise. Sometimes there are “bidding wars” among the studios and that can really push a script price up. The problem with selling an original script is that it’s your own little baby, and it’ll be much more difficult not to take all the shit you’re about to go through as personal (See Screenwriting Rule #1).

Once you’re hired, your agent (or lawyer) will negotiate a contract. Every screenwriting contract makes clear how many drafts are expected from the writer. Typically, there are two drafts, and then a couple of polishes. Hopefully, your agent (or lawyer) will be a good one and you won’t end up with a “cut off” deal. That means that they can say buh-bye to you after any one of those steps, including the oftentimes dreaded “treatment” first step. The other steps listed are just “wishful thinking” and will be worded as “optional” But let’s say that you are guaranteed two drafts and a polish – You will have “reading times” in-between those drafts. You’ll also have time built in when you develop the story. That means that once the deal memo has been signed you can go off and do research or start stepping out your story beats. You may or may not be required to include the development team (studio executives, and/or producer) in this step. If you go in and tell them the story it just gives them another opportunity to try to shape their own story and not yours. Ideally, you want to just sign the deal memo, and go off to write your first draft. You don’t want to develop the story and then go in and get permission to write the first draft you want to write. They can really screw you up creatively by giving you bad ideas, and you’ll have to rebuild your story (taking more time out of your writing schedule) to incorporate their ideas. Nevertheless, that might happen. So deal with it – you’re getting paid and that should help heal the pain.

Usually, you’ll get 10–12 weeks to write your first draft. Once you turn it in you might have a reading period of four weeks and this is when you work hard at letting go. That’s easier said than done because when you finish your first draft you begin this euphoric high for having completed the script and you feel like a genius.  But trust me, let go of that perfect script the moment you finish typing, “Fade Out.”  Here are some ways you can do that:

Say Goodbye To That Brilliant First Draft


1) Be already working on another screenplay. Just like a love affair that’s falling apart, it helps if you have another lover lined up waiting in the wings. The more creatively promiscuous you are as a screenwriter, the better you can protect your heart from breaking.  I was always a loyal lover and I learned the hard way that it hurts to “stand by your man” because sometimes that man likes to sleep around with other screenwriters for rewrites.

2) Use the reading period (in-between drafts) to separate emotionally from your work. Go on a vacation. Do research for another project. Distance yourself, move as far away from your current project as possible. You probably will have three or four weeks (maybe longer if it’s near a holiday period) before you meet with the development team, and this is your separation period so use it to clear your mind and to rest your body. You will need as much energy and objectivity as possible for the next hell you are about to enter. And trust me, it will be hell. Because the seventh rule in screenwriting is:

#7: No matter how much they tell you they love your first draft, they’ll still want to change it. 

And you will sit in an office and have to take it without crying or throwing things.

If you play poker, you know the importance of having a poker face. Get good at this because you will be asked to sit in many meetings when you will hear the most asinine suggestions for improving your script. Just remember Rule #1 and don’t take it personally. This is one of the jobs of a film industry executive/ producer/director/development person: to give notes. If a non-creative doesn’t give notes he/she (Yes, there are women development people) is not doing his/her job so he/she comes up sometimes with ridiculous notes, notes that make no sense, that only show he/she didn’t really read the script or read it too quickly (usually while sitting in traffic). These people are paid to make suggestions (no matter how ill-informed or stupid) and you are being paid to write them down as notes in these sweat-inducing next-draft meetings. My advice to you is to keep your mouth shut, your head down, and your hands busy scribbling notes (even if your notes are simply creative ways for the people to f&!# themselves). Remember – You can always have your nervous breakdown in the comfort of your own home, and not in some over-air-conditioned Hollywood office.

You’re Not The Only Member On The Team

Now begins one of the biggest challenges you will face as a screenwriter: Do I make the changes they give me and possibly ruin my brilliant story, or do I refuse to do the changes and possibly risk being replaced by another writer who will whore his/her services and make the changes themselves? That is a very personal, moral decision that every screenwriter faces, and I would never suggest to you what your choice should be. Just remember that making films is a collaborative effort, and if you’re unwilling to play with the team, there are thousands of players on the bench more than willing to take your place.

The best advice I was ever given about how to deal with notes was from David Jacobs – the creator of “Dallas” and “Knott’s Landing” – who told me: “Don’t argue with them, just take the notes. Use the ones that make sense, and don’t do the ones that are stupid. Chances are they won’t even remember what they told you to fix. But sometimes they DO give good notes and those are the ones you want to use.”

I will also share with you something written about Sonya Levien – an amazing screenwriter who first started out in the industry by doing scenarios for silent films, became one of the big screenwriters in the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s, and won the Academy Award in 1956 for Interrupted Melody:

“Levien possessed a certain plot cleverness or dexterity and an editor’s willingness to cut and paste. She succeeded as a screenwriter because she knew how to adapt stories, plays, and novels into “entertaining,” filmable movie scripts, wrote quickly, and made, without argument, whatever script changes her supervisors directed. In addition, she willingly doctored other writers’ problem scripts, never missed a deadline, and worked as many hours as necessary to solve script problems. Seemingly without ego investment in the words she wrote, she rarely complained, and she helped anyone who asked.”

from “A Great Lady” by Larry Ceplair

In my book, that about sums up what it takes to be a successful screenwriter. It worked for Sonya, it can work for you.

The key to doing Hollywood is to be the best damn screenwriter in the business.  Know that in your heart, keep improving and learning, get yourself an agent who can do all the battles (and negotiations), and just keep writing, writing, and writing.

And then direct.  Or produce.

A screenwriter has no power in Hollywood, and Hollywood is all about the power. When Disney wanted me to write a specific screenplay and I said no, they sweetened the deal by offering me the director position.  I was extremely agoraphobic at the time and just getting to the damn note meetings was difficult so I turned down the opportunity to direct.  For me, that was the right decision to make (I hate bossing people around), but for anyone wanting to be a filmmaker, you have to move up to a power position – directing (for films) and producing (for television).

And that leads us to the eighth rule for surviving professional screenwriting:

# 8:  Be flexible

You will make decisions you won’t like, but you will have to make them anyway.  You will have to work with people you don’t like (you don’t respect), but you will have to work with them anyway.  You will get hurt, but you must never show it.  There’s a saying in show business:  Never forget what they’ve done to you.  But never let them know that you know.

Smile big. Look confident. Be prepared. Work harder than anyone else.

And enjoy the adventure.

REV Cover_ebook-1

 (Read the other posts in this series: So You Want To Be A Screenwriter? It All Begins With A Screenwriter, Emails To A Young Screenwriter, If It’s Screenwriting, What’s Acting Got To Do With It?)

39 thoughts on “8 Rules For Surviving Screenwriting

  1. What you’ve written here is the main reason why I switched over from writing screenplays to novels. It’s not that I’ve given up, but for me, it’s important to tell my story my way. That’s impossible in the film business unless you happen to be Woody Allen or George Lucas.

    My deciding factor was that I didn’t want to put all my blood, sweat and tears into a project and get no personal satisfaction out of seeing it come to life for someone other than myself and my family. If any of my books are ever lucky enough to end up on the big screen, and I’m shut out of the process, I won’t feel as bad. At least, I would’ve gotten the story out my way. And then there would always be those who insist the book is far better than the movie:)


  2. You bring up a good point – If you want your writing to be read, and your stories experienced, you have a better chance doing that by writing novels. Especially nowadays with the availability of independent publishing. As much as I love the screenplay format, unless a script is transformed into a film (and the process is expensive one), no one will ever know your story. And frankly, stories are too precious not to share.


  3. Darlene, that’s one of the pluses about self publishing. Years ago when we sold to the publishing houses, the editors tore them to shreds; much like movie scripts are altered.
    I wish you would join us on Amazon’s non-fiction author’s forum. They are a most encouraging group. Someone recently tore my book to shreds (after admitting they hadn’t read it )- then told me to get a different profession. You should have seen this group spring into action, defending me.
    Love your posts!


    • I had a brief view of what the publishing world can be like when my book was just finished. I remember thinking at the time, “OMG, this is just like Hollywood!” I like the idea of writers banding together for strength and support. Writing communities are so important for all types of writers. The work is hard and lonely because we are all alone when we do it. Thanks, June for the information, and for all of your support!


  4. Darlene, this really depressed me. I have no interest in becoming a screenwriter but even if I did this would be a tremendous turn-off for me. I am trying hard to understand why you, as an agoraphobic, and I know you were worse off when you started your writing career, would put yourself through this torment. I just don’t see the joy in it. As much respect as I had for you before, it’s now doubled……trippled. Deana


    • Oh, no, Deana! The last thing I wanted to do by writing this post was to depress you, or to depress anyone. It’s interesting because this morning I woke up and thought, “Gee, maybe I was too harsh about screenwriting in my last post.” And then, your comment was the first I read this morning. Let me say this to you, and to anyone else who was depressed reading this post: I apologize, and let me clarify some things for you.

      First of all, screenwriting can be a very good profession for an agoraphobic – Your work is always with you, and you can do it in your home. While it’s true that a screenwriter has to do “pitch meetings” to sell a script or get a writing job, I was very lucky that I didn’t have to do too many of them. Although, my agent used to try to push me to take on more work, I would only write one project at a time. I hated (i.e. couldn’t do) general “pitch meetings” because it would stir up my agoraphobia. So I considered myself very lucky (blessed, really) that my agent would line up my jobs and didn’t push me to do general pitch meetings. That probably cost me (and my family) potential earnings, but I never went into screenwriting to become wealthy. I write because I love it, and because creating stories, and entertaining people is very precious to me.

      That brings me to the second point I want to make about the film industry and screenwriting: While it’s unbelievably difficult, painful, and frustrating at times, it allows a screenwriter an outlet for our work. Whenever I wrote a script it always filled me with a grand hope that the words that I was writing would someday be said, the action that I wrote would someday be seen by an audience. If you don’t have hope, an optimistic belief that every script you write will be made, and will be made well, then, you shouldn’t go into the Hollywood film industry. No one handles rejection and defeat well, but the rewards for when things go well, and one of your scripts ends up on a movie screen or television screen are endless. And I don’t just mean the money. It is so satisfying to work as part of a small community making movies together. That’s another post for another day, but my fondest moments are those of people I worked with who I genuinely liked (and respected).

      I wrote this post not to depress young screenwriters/filmmakers (or their families) but to let them know the full picture of what it means to step into the Hollywood game. You want to go into it with eyes wide open, and not totally blinded by the brightness of your dreams. I would’ve liked someone to have warned me – Maybe I would’ve been better prepared. But then again, maybe I wouldn’t have listened. 😉


      • That’s the dichotomy of life,really. When one faces reality it can be depressing but then, if you’re lucky, you have been infused with a foundation of optimism. The name society has given that is “faith.” It can go well, it will go well, I can make things better. Would you call that a realistic optimist or a delusional idealist? Who cares as long as you continue to pursue your dream. If you don’t try, it (whatever you are facing) will never improve.


  5. Pingback: 8 Rules For Surviving Screenwriting « Jen's Thoughts

  6. Thank you, as always, for your comments. I wasn’t trying to speak for everyone…….just myself. I do think you are doing a great service to people who are interested in being screenwriters. I was speaking as an “outsider”.


  7. I think I need to work on my poker face. Of all the looks I’ve mastered, “deer in the headlights” is probably my finest. And sassy. Your post reminded me of the series finale of Golden Girls, when Dorothy and Uncle Lucas get married: the priest comes out and thinks to himself, “ESP! Energy, smile, personality–they love you!”

    I think I need to learn to separate myself from my novel. What I mean is, sometimes I am an overprotective mother bear with it. I LOVE your suggestion of starting something new. Something so easy, but honestly something I feel I put off as I polish up my current work. I have some new ideas for another book, so I think–in between editing–I’ll start plugging away.


    • You’re still at that vulnerable time for a writer – basking in that afterglow of your brilliance. You have done an amazing feat – you have told a story, and more importantly, you’ve told it as a book. That is just like running a marathon, and you’ll need a little time to catch your breath. Get through your edits, and that will help you separate from those wonderful people on those pages who have been keeping you company for months (or years). By all means, you want to be working on another story when it comes time to send your beautiful finished manuscript off into the world. Sounds like you have a couple of ideas already waiting for you – well done! That will make the entire submission process so much easier to go through.


      • And one more thought: Another great reason for going to work on a new story/book/screenplay while the other one goes out into the cold, cruel world is you’ll be ready when they buy that first one or want to film it. Once you make a sale you become a hot property, and everyone (i.e. agent/publisher/producer/director) will be asking you, “What else have you got?” That’s a great way to make another quick sale. So just keep writing those stories that keep showing up in your imagination. Good luck and I have my fingers crossed for you!


  8. Darlene, many thanks for the lucid insight you have given us into screenwriting. I had, luckily, never thought of it as a career for myself. I see from what you have said that I would have been utterly unsuited to it. My preference for playing squash over team games like rugger has followed me from school through life. I simply couldn’t involve myself with directors, committees, conferences and teamwork, especially not when it comes to a story I feel deeply about. I was able to work in the news media because I never took the media or anything I did therein to heart. I was a hack in a hack’s industry and didn’t think otherwise. I must say, however, I greatly admire your grit in being able to work as a screenwriter.


    • On my darkest Hollywood nights I sometimes felt like a hack. When I’d have to change something that felt like a safer, and less interesting choice. I’d fight for doing it my way, but then, I’d acquiesce and do what they suggested. But I’d do my damnedest to write what they wanted with great passion, and to really do my best. Somehow, I always hoped I could make it work, and it would be wonderful. It was worth a try. In many ways, being a screenwriter made me a better writer – it taught me different ways of approaching a story. I discovered that the options within a story are limitless. But once you decide on an option you have to commit to it 1000%. Until you try the next option, of course. 😉


  9. I remember talking to you months ago about doing a post like this and I am so glad that you did! I love it! This deserves to get freshly pressed! WordPress Gods are you listening? :p


    • You’re the one who gave me the idea! I’d been thinking about doing it but never found a motivation until Astrid won that contest that Jen Owenby had for my book. The questions Astrid asked me just started me thinking about the business, and before you know it, I’d written all this material that I wanted to share with everyone. I hope I didn’t discourage anyone from following their dream and going into screenwriting. It’s a tough business but well worth all the hard work and sometimes the hard knocks that come with it. Thanks for dropping by and reading the post!


  10. Hi, again! I owe you. I. loved your J.D. Salinger fat lady quote. It made me think beyond the George Orwell and Ernest Hemingway strictures about the use of language. You’ve now got me filling up little filing cards with scenes for one of my writing projects. When I’ve done that I’ll do a few shuffles to see how they link up. Many thanks.


    • Glad I could be helpful. I’ve always used index cards for storyboarding my screenplays, but I’m also finding it useful now that I’m writing books. However, since this is the 21st century, I am now using an iPad app called “Index Card.” Same concept, different technology.


      • Unfortunately, I am pretty hopeless with modern technology. But thank you for the suggestion. I’ll certainly look into it.


  11. Pingback: A Screenwriting Master Class | Artistikem

  12. Pingback: If It’s Screenwriting, What’s Acting Got To Do With It? | Darlene Craviotto

  13. Pingback: The Ultimate List of Screenwriting Rules, Tips, Laws, Principles, Guidelines & More | The Screenwriting Spark

  14. This is what I was waiting for ““Don’t argue with them, just take the notes. Use the ones that make sense, and don’t do the ones that are stupid. Chances are they won’t even remember what they told you to fix.”

    That is MY PROBLEM. I argue my points. I’m more than willing to admit when I’m wrong. But, until I’ve been proven wrong, I’ll just stare at you like you have two heads. That’s a problem I’ll probably never overcome.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I used to argue, too. That’s not necessarily a bad thing (as long as you’re not yelling or throwing chairs). But there comes a point in the room when you have to stop arguing, pause, and then say, “I see your point. That’s a good point. Let me try that.” Period. The end. Remember: screenwriting is not about debating or winning your point. It’s about getting the film made.

      Liked by 1 person

      • From many of the films that have been made in the past 10 years I’d say NOT enough writers are arguing. Tonight I watched a wonderful double feature of The Awful Truth and My Man Godfrey. They do not make them like that anymore.


      • Thank God they DON’T “make them like that anymore.” Screenwriters worked for studios like seamstresses toiled away in sweat factories. One draft would be done by one writer (or more than one by different writers at the same time) and then handed off to another writer to punch up the comedic dialogue and then handed off to someone else to build up the romance part of the story, etc. etc…screenwriters had zero control over what ended up on the page or more importantly, what ended up on the screen. The studio system might have put out films that have lasted over the years but it destroyed careers and people (I challenge you to watch a young healthy-looking Garland singing innocently (and beautifully) to Clark Gable’s photo in Broadway Melody of 1939 and not be saddened knowing how the studio system destroyed her and her life.) A screenwriter during those Golden Years was replaceable, and if you were under contract, you knew that, and never argued. If you argued there was always someone else in the studio stable they could call up and who would replace you. And you knew that. That’s why you kept your mouth shut and just wrote.


  15. There’s tragedy and sadness in every walk of life. Garland is one in thousands of Hollywood casualties. Her music and films will live forever. As tragic as her life ended, would it have been different and better had she, her mother or some other person in charge of her safety said “No. Take me as I am or we’re leaving?” I bet it wouldn’t. Performers are willing to do most anything to obtain the stardom Garland acheived. Think of the thousands who never acheived it, and had much worse lives and deaths. If you removed product made by perverts from your watch list, you could watch everything in less than 24 hours.
    The name of my band since the 80s has been Frances Farmer My Hero. There’s a woman who bucked the system and ended up paying dearly for it. So, I’m no fan of the system or their methods (for all the reasons you mentioned). But, I would never argue the output. There isn’t a film made before 1950 that I won’t be thoroughly entertained by. They might have been money grubbing scumbag perverts. But, they knew the art of filmmaking and great storytelling.
    Since the advent of digital filmmaking, where you nolonger need to spend 50 – 100 grand on film stock and processing, I’d say 1 out of 25 films are even watchable. As a movie lover, I find this extremely sad. I love music even more, and that industry is worse off than the film industry.
    In 2013 my wife gave me for Christmas (how she regrets it) an Epson 3D projector and blu ray system. So, for every awful unwatchable modern film I see, I get to watch on the large screen a wonderful unknown silent or golden era film. To be fair, Pixar hasn’t made a clunker yet.
    I’m sure you know this story, which I’m about to butcher. But, it’s a Garland. When Wizard of Oz was shown to the “money men” there were some that wanted to get to the color portion faster. They recommended cutting that song Judy sang by the hay, something about a rainbow. I forget if it was the lyricist or music writer who threatened to quit if they removed it. Those are the times you have to take a stand. Because there are people who know the difference between good, bad and special.


      • I am very glad that you didn’t. After spending thirty years in Hollywood I have seen what the star system can do to a person, and none of it is good. It’s amazing to me that anyone who is or was a star comes out of Hollywood with their heart and soul intact. It takes an incredibly strong person to survive Hollywood as a star without being mortally wounded by the process. I have the greatest respect for those who are able to do it, and tremendous sadness for those who have been destroyed along the way. If you’ve read my book (An Agoraphobic’s Guide to Hollywood), and looked at Michael Jackson’s life you’ll understand better what I mean. I love great movies, but the human price that is sometimes paid making them isn’t worth it.


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