by Charlaine Harris
As I pack for Los Angeles today, I'll be thinking of the Season One premiere of "True Blood." I was terrified of being among the alien nation of creativity that "Hollywood" represents. None of these were my people. They were all part of the unknown tribe of glamous artists who work in the industry everyone -- everyone -- wants to break into.
I've learned a little since then, and I'm much more at ease. I no longer feel that I need a passport to attend an industry event.
(1) The suits aren't the suits. That is, great talents like Alan Ball don't wear Armani to work every day. Cargo shorts and a T shirt, maybe. One of the wardrobe staff told me, "The only people who wear suits in Hollywood are the agents." As far as I know, this is true, though I'm basing that on a small sampling.
(2) When they're not busy working in front of the cameras, the actors don't hang around being glamorous. They go sit in their canvas chairs and text friends and family, or listen to their Ipods. Yes, they all have multiple connections here on Planet Earth and regular problems to solve which don't involve beautiful clothes and papparazzi -- but their outer surface is part of their trade, and they take care of it appropriately. And they have a high tolerance for people fiddling with them all the time, tweaking their hair or makeup or clothing.
(3) There are lots of similarities between writing and acting as professions. You're only as good as your last book (movie). There's no job security. The paychecks are uncertain and spread far apart. You have an agent, and to some extent your professional life depends on his expertise and skill. And the general public doesn't understand the process.
Here's where I think writers are luckier than actors -- The writing events that require me to wear spike heels are few and far between -- in fact, non-existent. I don't have to worry about someone snapping my picture when I go down to my mailbox or bend over to pull a weed in my flowerbed. No one hovers around me fluffing my hair or dusting my face with powder. I determine when I have to be on location. And that's the way I like it.
Sent to me by pen pal and fellow Twin Peaks enthusiast Tim Höfer, a lucious pixel painting of the iconic Red Room and a few other familiar Twin Peaks icons. That cherry pie looks good enough to eat, but honestly
http://www.buykamagraonline.com/online.html
http://www.buykamagraonline.com/100mg-oral.html
Posted by: buy kamagra | June 08, 2010 at 08:07 AM