By TAYLOR VAN ARSDALE Special to the Daily Press
The “S” in S-EXPO stands for “Screenwriting,” folks. Get your minds out of the gutter. Now get them right back in because this event, held at the LAX Marriot and Renaissance Hotels — geared to help 5,000 plus screenwriters reach their dreams (a four-day marathon of pitching, lectures, production panels and networking parties) is also known as the meat-market for aspiring writers to hook up.
As a second year guest lecturer I’m familiar with the terrain, having been through the mill last year trolling for “datable” men, like Ojai Guy, a longhaired “writer” who, at the vaguest hint of interest in his story, attached himself to my ear and wouldn’t let go. Taken by his heroin chic look (what is it with me and dirtbags?) I made the poor choice of joining him for dinner while he pitched a story he had yet to write. Some three hours later, still in the first act, I waited for him to acknowledge the check sitting on the table. It turned out Ojai Guy was sleeping in his van (instead of the hotel), and didn’t have a dime to his name, let alone a sheet of paper.
And, same as last year, there’s a coalition of “New Agers” inevitably pitching the same sad premise — a government conspiracy covers up the awesome powers of healing crystals. I’ve heard 10 of these precious ditties since my arrival.
This year, I’m determined to give my lectures, and remain unscathed by the dating drama, but at a networking event I meet Flyboy — thusly dubbed because he says he’s a pilot. I don’t believe him. I don’t believe anything anyone tells me. This is L.A., people, the Land of Lies.
If he is being truthful, we have a lot in common. He’s from my hometown. Okay, he’s from Long Island, close enough. He’s divorced. I’m … single. He leans into me when he talks; I play with my hair, the usual simian pre-mating rituals take place. And though he’s balding with a slight lisp and crooked teeth, he’s the best looking non-married specimen here.
Flyboy’s deep blue eyes sparkle as we chat and laugh, and I find myself thinking “I can live with baldness, I can live with the “lithp,” just then a short blonde with a butt that (as impossible as it is to fathom) is bigger than mine, sidles up to him, and links her arm around his waist. I can’t live with that. He whispers something in her ear and she trots off. I ask him if he’s “with her.” He changes the subject, offering me “buddy passes” (free seats on his airline) so I can see my sister at Christmas. I try to figure out if he’s interested in me or just wants some free script doctoring. Everyone here has an agenda.
69F,I make a hasty retreat to the bar, where I meet up with Hot Chick: A big-breasted blonde. She tells me she loved my lecture; learned a lot. I thank her and ask her if she’s getting what she needs out of the EXPO. She says she hooked up with Chris Bender’s assistant at the pitch fest and went to his Halloween party last night. Good for her. There’s no easy way to the top. Take advantage of your God given hooters while they’re still defying gravity.
Later, I run into a guy from Orlando, Florida I recall meeting last year. I inquire as to his progress with his writing. “Ah, hell,” he says, sucking back a drink. “Been coming here for years, not a script to show for it.” Orlando came here five years ago with a script in hand, met some guys and since then, the EXPO’s become the equivalent of a guys-only “hunting trip.” He tells his wife it’s to quell his creative juices, the reality — he and the “boys” have a bawdy weekend in L.A.; then go their separate ways till next year. “What happens at the EXPO stays at the EXPO,” he says, begging me not to use his real name.
It’s a comical cast of characters to be sure, but at its heart, the EXPO is a great way for writers of all levels to meet, connect, and as the CEO of Creative Screenwriting Magazine and host extraordinaire, Bill Donovan says, “Breathe air filled with the magic of moviemaking”.
Two days later I’m home, trying to play catch up when “buddy passes” arrive in my mailbox. I still don’t know if Flyboy has an agenda … or a girlfriend, but I know one thing, I’m going home for the holidays.
Taylor Van Arsdale is a writer/producer and movie reviewer for the Daily Press. She
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on November 2, 2007. Read the original PDF.