tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50403868744275225922024-03-13T23:16:50.502-07:00Possibly Go WrongSkye DentSkye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-13080630636656475562018-06-16T21:13:00.002-07:002018-06-16T21:13:27.240-07:00Skye's Blacklist Column - March15, 2018<h1 class="graf graf--h3 graf--leading graf--title" id="44e0" name="44e0">
Why We Write: Skye Dent</h1>
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<div class="graf graf--p graf--leading" id="2d5f" name="2d5f">
I’ve been so fascinated with how well everyone prior to this penning can verbalize why they write.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="5f84" name="5f84">
Gloria Estefan put it much more melodically:<em class="markup--em markup--p-em"> “The words get in the way.”</em></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="5f84" name="5f84">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="ed14" name="ed14">
For
years I’ve tried to tell friends and family why I write. For them, the
words as to why never seemed sufficient even though my news articles,
scripts, and novels seemed to speak volumes.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="ed14" name="ed14">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="9f63" name="9f63">
My mom still introduces me by saying “<em class="markup--em markup--p-em">This is my daughter, Skye. She’s a writer. Tell them what you do.”</em> She seems to be saying that being a writer wasn’t something that one did, at least not for a living.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="9f63" name="9f63">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="b8b2" name="b8b2">
And for a while, she proved to be right.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="b8b2" name="b8b2">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="997c" name="997c">
Like
most of the WGA members, there are long stretches of time, sometimes
years, when writing doesn’t make a living. When I first left a fairly
profitable and hugely personally rewarding career as a journalist, my sister Betty used to continuously taunt me by saying: <em class="markup--em markup--p-em">“Boy, you made a mistake. My husband makes more in a few hours changing tires on 18-wheelers than you do in one month.”</em></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="997c" name="997c">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="f276" name="f276">
As much as one would like to, you really can’t fire your sister. Besides, she was right.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="f276" name="f276">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="b48d" name="b48d">
My
brother-in-law made more doing emergency repairs on tractor-trailer
rigs than some entertainment attorneys. We were screaming “Go Teamsters”
long before they joined us on the picket line.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="b48d" name="b48d">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="afda" name="afda">
Then,
there’s my other sister. She hedges her bets. She’s convinced that most
great writers only become recognized for their great works after
they’re dead. In case she’s right, she has…rights…to all of my scripts
after I die.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="afda" name="afda">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="4f5f" name="4f5f">
Hell,
what do I care. All of my psychics say I’ll die abruptly and
painlessly. So, it’s not as if any money that comes in will go towards
the health maintenance system, a misnomer if I ever heard one.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="4f5f" name="4f5f">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="09e0" name="09e0">
Another
sister, the successful sister, has an explanation for why I write. She
says there was so much violence and abuse in our household as kids that I
escaped by going to the library to read and write.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="09e0" name="09e0">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="9424" name="9424">
Although
you’ve heard this story before and after the #BlackLivesMatter movement
started, my teenage brother actually was murdered in the racist streets
of Boston. He was 15. I was 13. When something like that happens, the
parents who loved him always blame those who they think were responsible
for loving him too little, or too much. What parents rarely seem to
realize while they are flinging accusations is that we siblings
occasionally get hit and, being young, have even less chance of avoiding
the hits…which keep on coming.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="9424" name="9424">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="9be8" name="9be8">
In
response to my sister, I would joke about how I should credit abuse for
getting me into reading and writing and thus into Brown University. <em class="markup--em markup--p-em">“Ha, ha,” </em>I said,<em class="markup--em markup--p-em"> “violence does have some good residual effects.”</em> Oops, sorry to mention the R-word.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="9be8" name="9be8">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="d350" name="d350">
So, to be honest, I guess I should really title this essay, <em class="markup--em markup--p-em">“Why I Wrote</em>.”
Simple. Writing got me out of the ghetto. If you go to the projects in
Roxbury, Boston where I grew up, you’ll see condos. But, back when I was
growing up, all of Boston was a ghetto, physically and mentally.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="d350" name="d350">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="6854" name="6854">
Writing got me out. Writing took me across country. Writing took me to Great Britain, Italy, Rio, Bahia, Paris.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="6854" name="6854">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="4003" name="4003">
Writing
got me my first TV script assignment. When writer friends found out
that I had written a letter about myself asking Jeri Taylor for a chance
to pitch at STAR TREK: VOYAGER they laughed and said <em class="markup--em markup--p-em">“No one writes letters in this town.”</em> Jeri Taylor and Brannon Braga invited me in to pitch and the first thing Jeri said was <em class="markup--em markup--p-em">“No one writes letters in this town.”</em> Then, they hired me.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="4003" name="4003">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="79ed" name="79ed">
That’s
when I found out, writers for TV and film may not all be damn fine
humanistic or even human human beings. But, they are witty, intelligent,
fun, charmingly caustic, passionate, intriguing, sometimes senseless
and sometimes nonsensical beings.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="79ed" name="79ed">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="b9e2" name="b9e2">
In short, they are some of the most knowledgeable people I know.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="b9e2" name="b9e2">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="dd0f" name="dd0f">
So, perhaps fulfilling the parental mantra of “<em class="markup--em markup--p-em">education will get you everywhere in life” </em>somewhere along the line, way before the picket line, took on a twisted, different meaning for me. The Twisted Sister.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="dd0f" name="dd0f">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="8ca7" name="8ca7">
Instead
of using education to get me someplace, I ended up being drawn to
people who are educated. Maybe not in the traditional sense. But, admit
it. What writer do you know who does not know a hell of a lot more about
certain subjects than you do? And don’t you sometimes walk away from a
conversation with such beings asking yourself, can life get any better
than this?</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="8ca7" name="8ca7">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="16c0" name="16c0">
And
OK, over time, I came to love writing. No apologies. No explanation.
Except for exercising, which is more of a spiritual pleasure than
anything else, the longest relationship I’ve ever had is with writing.
And the people who “get” me are writers.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="16c0" name="16c0">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="57cc" name="57cc">
I’m
not one of those writers who never had doubts. Just never about
writing. A few years ago, I decided I needed to grow up and get a “real”
gig. So I got a job as a media relations specialist for Uconn, properly
spelled U-Con.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="57cc" name="57cc">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="66f4" name="66f4">
By
that time, being a writer was so much a part of me that I started to
have withdrawal symptoms. I couldn’t sleep at night. My steps seemed to
continually lead me to the university’s School of Fine Arts. I had
dreams in which I was a character in a horror film set on a Connecticut
cow country campus. I went into therapy. Started taking Paxil. Heard
Slinky noises (you know, the toy) in my head. I probably would have
turned pale and pasty, except…Black folks never get that sick.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="66f4" name="66f4">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="5fe5" name="5fe5">
So,
I guess you could now say I “write” to keep my head “right.” I tried a
real university, University of North Carolina where I felt blessed to be
teaching spouses and offspring of the military. If you ever want an
incredible teaching experience, teach in the military town of
Fayettenam, NC, the home of Ft. Bragg. All of your students may not get
A’s. But, I did not meet one student who was not mission-driven.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="5fe5" name="5fe5">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="5372" name="5372">
I
came back to Hell-A. My family doesn’t make fun of my writing anymore.
Apparently, they missed me. Writing brought me back, and they seem happy
to have me around again.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="5372" name="5372">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="b27d" name="b27d">
I
optioned an incredible legal case that will change what people thought
they knew about American history. It will unite Latinos, Blacks, Whites,
Jews and Asians in a world that profits well by keeping us divided.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="b27d" name="b27d">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="fad8" name="fad8">
I
know I’m at my best when I’m writing and I know I’m a better person
when I write. If I couldn’t write, I wouldn’t be me. Nothing deep.
Nothing profound.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="fad8" name="fad8">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="4f5e" name="4f5e">
End of story, you’d thinnnnnnkkkkkk.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="4f5e" name="4f5e">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="b9f6" name="b9f6">
I still lecture at universities quite a lot. But, I try to focus on high schools, where students truly need us more.</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="b9f6" name="b9f6">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="45bb" name="45bb">
The teacher in charge usually introduces me with the words…</div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p" id="45bb" name="45bb">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf--startsWithDoubleQuote graf-after--p" id="0532" name="0532">
<em class="markup--em markup--p-em">“This is Skye Dent. She’s a TV and film writer. Tell them what you do.”</em></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf--startsWithDoubleQuote graf-after--p" id="0532" name="0532">
<br /></div>
<div class="graf graf--p graf-after--p graf--trailing" id="6088" name="6088">
Mommmmmmmmmmmm!!!!!!</div>
</div>
</div>
</section>Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-58175030142195987052015-07-19T08:12:00.000-07:002015-07-19T08:12:05.138-07:00Christos Gage, Daredevil, Netflix, and Being a Made Man (by Skye Dent)For some reason, the system will not allow me to write in paragraphs. Please forgive the computer glitch.<br />
<br />
Heroes & Villains<br />
Article on Christos Gage, Daredevil and Netflix<br />
By WGA west member Skye Dent<br />
Published in the July/August issue of the Brown Alumni Monthly<br />
<br />
<div class="bodytext">
If there were a Mafia version of the Marvel Comic Universe, Christos
Gage ’93 would be a made man. Gage, who started writing and drawing his
own comics as a child growing up in Worcester, Massachusetts, has
crafted a Hollywood career that just hit the ultimate pay dirt: Gage is
a key writer on the Netflix series <i>Daredevil</i>.<br />
<br />
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<img alt="christos_gage.jpg" height="504" src="http://www.brownalumnimagazine.com/images/stories/2015_julaug/christos_gage.jpg" style="float: left; height: 504px; margin: 0pt; width: 511px;" title="christos_gage.jpg" width="511" />
<div class="jce_caption_text" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: center;">
<i>Courtesy AOL</i><br />
</div>
</div>
Based on the 1964 Marvel comic, <i>Daredevil</i> traces the
life of Matt Murdock, a blind, tormented yet principled attorney who
prosecutes criminals by day while slipping at night into his alter-ego
Daredevil, who leaves the villainous scum of New York City’s Hell’s
Kitchen physically brutalized and sometimes near death. </div>
<div class="bodytext">
</div>
<div class="bodytext">
Daredevil is
the first series to circumvent traditional distribution channels
entirely in favor of online viewing. It was downloaded 2.1 million
times after Netflix, which produced the show with Marvel Comics,
released all thirteen episodes online on the same day in April. </div>
<div class="bodytext">
<br />
It’s thirteen hours of what Gage describes as super-sinister
violence, heart, and a conscientious skew towards hope for a better
world, all viewed through the lens of hyper-realistic, pseudo-noir
cinematography. The series garnered such high critical and viewer
acclaim that Netflix and Marvel quickly renewed it for a second season.
“Obviously,” Gage says, “we had a great cast, incredible fight and
stunt people, and overall an amazing crew.”<br />
<br />
Gage says he inherited his love of writing from his journalist parents, Nicholas (a <i>New York Times</i> investigative reporter) and Joan (a longtime magazine writer). When Gage saw his father’s memoir, <i>Eleni</i>,
adapted into a suspense feature film starring John Malkovich, he
realized that screenwriting “was a thing” that a person could do as a
career.<br />
<br />
“I knew early on that I liked writing scripts and comics. Because
it’s so much more visual, it suits my tastes,” Gage says. “I didn’t
have the patience to be a novelist, and I wanted something more
imaginative than being a journalist.”<br />
<br />
At Brown, Gage concentrated in AmCiv. “The best thing you can do as
a writer is have an interesting life,” he says. “Since I didn’t, I
could study interesting lives in American Civilization.” After Brown,
he spent a year at home writing sample scripts before applying to the
prestigious American Film Institute (AFI). He got in on his first try
and moved to Hollywood in 1994, then struggled for a decade before
breaking into comic books in 2004 with the DC Comics miniseries <i>Deadshot</i>.<br />
<br />
Gage met his future wife, Ruth Fletcher Gage, at AFI. The two have been
writing individually and as a team for such hit series as <i>Law & Order: Special Victims Unit</i> and <i>Numb3rs</i>, as well as for the Sci-Fi film <i>Paradox</i> and the video games <i>The Amazing Spider Man</i> and <i>Captain America: Super Soldier</i>. They recently completed <i>The Lion of Rora</i>, a historical graphic novel.<br />
<br />
Their prolific and successful history provides a lesson he encourages to others.<br />
<a href="http://www.brownalumnimagazine.com/content/view/3976/28/">http://www.brownalumnimagazine.com/content/view/3976/28/</a><br />
“If you have skills and talents that complement each other,” Gage
says, “it’s great to have a writing partner, because you make a
stronger whole.
<br />
</div>
<br />Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-9090541054275948912013-05-24T19:57:00.001-07:002013-05-24T20:04:15.898-07:00The Cameo's Story: In Three Acts<a href="https://vimeo.com/user1215515">Visual Journalism Interviews</a><br />
<br />
<div class="article-pubdate">
The Fayetteville Observer</div>
<div class="article-pubdate">
Published: 09:01 PM, Fri May 24, 2013 </div>
<div class="article-pubdate">
http://fayobserver.com/articles/2013/05/25/1258752?sac=fo.opinion</div>
<h1 class="article-headline">
The Cameo's story, in three acts</h1>
<div class="article-ad-300x250">
</div>
<div class="article-byline">
<span class="byline">By Skye Dent</span></div>
<div class="article-byline">
<br />
<span class="article-bycredit"></span></div>
The credits for "In the Company of Men" were scrolling past the unit
publicist and best boy. A couple sitting up front and I, leaning against
the wall with a drained glass of Merlot in hand, were the only ones
left in the loge.<br />
<br />
Like everyone who has ever worked on a film, I watch credits to the
end out of respect for the collaborative role that even the lowest-paid
production assistant contributes.<br />
<br />
This made me privy to something I had never seen in all of my
previous movie-going experiences. The owners came out and started
cleaning the aisles themselves. For them, it was just another day:
picking up popcorn, forgotten napkins on the floors, soda containers and
wine bottles. For them, standard operating procedure.<br />
<br />
But, it wasn't so standard.<br />
<br />
Because if it were not for Chris Kuenzel; his wife, Nasim, and the
Fayetteville community, the Cameo Art House Theatre would have joined
the tragic fate of thousands of other community theaters nationwide that
weren't able to go digital instead of going dark.<br />
<br />
If the story of the Cameo were a feature film, its arc would go like this:<br />
<br />
<div class="font-story_subtitle">
Act 1</div>
<div class="font-story_subtitle">
</div>
Chris and Nasim move to
Fayetteville in the late '90s to start an architectural firm. Longtime
film lovers, they quickly realize how much they miss independent films.<br />
<br />
But film distributors make money from filled seats. The more seats,
the more revenue. Independent films, despite their high quality, barely
make back the costs of production. Without much marketing and publicity,
chances of bringing in mass audiences that eat large amounts of popcorn
and snacks (where the real money is) are small. So distributors
generally don't take chances on small films and small theaters like the
Cameo.<br />
<br />
That doesn't mean audiences don't want the films or won't pay to see
them. I first saw the American premiere of the amazing "Once Were
Warriors" in a Utah gymnasium.<br />
<br />
So, Chris and Nasim buy what was once the Dixie Theater building on
Hay Street. They squish design and construction costs by using their own
architectural knowledge and hands. They buy a 1950s film reel Simplex
projector, which still runs smoother and faster than most people I know
born in the '50s.<br />
<br />
Their first film? "Cinema Paradiso," a film about a boy so passionate
about films and a small-town theater that they determine the course of
his life, his loves and his near destruction.<br />
<br />
<div class="font-story_subtitle">
Act 2</div>
<div class="font-story_subtitle">
</div>
Though it's never easy
running their own firm and operating the Cameo, the Kuenzels make it
work. Along the way, they become valued members of the community. Still,
as is the case in most second acts, problems arise. Ever-increasing and
ever-insurmountable challenges confront the Kuenzels.<br />
<br />
Most recently, that challenge presented itself in the conversion from
film to digital projectors. The Simplex, like the projectors you see in
"Cinema Paradiso" and "Sunset Boulevard," or even those caressed so
lovingly by the film lover Tony DiNozzo on "N.C.I.S." are flickering
klieg lights.<br />
<br />
The switch to digital should have hit five years ago. But both
multiplexes and indie theaters got a reprieve while major theater owners
and the studios, neither of whom fell in the slumdog millionaire
category, bickered over who was going to cover the costs.<br />
<br />
The savings were tremendous to producers. With digital equipment, one can simply stream or email a digital file to the theater.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong. I love the big-budget blockbusters just as much
as I love indies. I ferociously await "Fast and Furious 6." I saw "Star
Trek Into Darkness" on opening day. Digital makes many things possible
for the common man.<br />
<br />
In fact, the use of digital technology was the key reason director
J.J. Abrams allowed me to hold a free premiere of "Morning Glory" for
200 students two years ago. Without digital technology, such an event
would have involved a negative pickup (actually picking up the film
reels and bringing them to Fayetteville). Never would have happened.<br />
<br />
The cost to convert can be $70,000 to $100,000 per screen. The Cameo
needs about $200,000 because it has two theaters, the 40-seat loge and
the 124-seat theater downstairs.<br />
<br />
<div class="font-story_subtitle">
Act 3</div>
<div class="font-story_subtitle">
</div>
The Fayetteville
community is not about to let the Cameo die for lack of digital
projectors. Residents form the Save the Cameo Committee in October and,
with the help of the Internet, start raising the cash.<br />
They garner media support. They plaster the city with fliers
soliciting donations. They sell unknown quantities of "Go Digital or Go
Dark" T-shirts.<br />
<br />
When asked, all say that the films the Kuenzels have brought to the
Cameo have been films they couldn't see anywhere else. Terrific stories
that brought worlds to their eyes that they would never see at a
multiplex.<br />
<br />
But don't take my word for it. Go to this website -
vimeo.com/66676952 - and listen to some of these residents yourself. Tom
Thompson. Edwin Hopkins. Angus Bowers. Lynn Legatski. You and people
like them have done all the heavy lifting.<br />
<br />
They celebrate with a May 5 screening, free for all donors, of - what else? "Cinema Paradiso" in an extended-film version.<br />
<br />
The importance of this achievement is noted by the fact that the news
makes it all the way to Emerging Pictures producer Ira Deutchman, a
longtime major name in the world of indies whose films regularly garner
Sundance Film Festival awards.<br />
<br />
"It's wonderful that places like the Cameo exist, and it's wonderful
that the community rose up to protect it from technology obsolescence,"
Deutchman says. "It's so important that these venues survive and thrive
all over the country."<br />
<br />
Most third acts are quick and dirty. The credits roll less than 10
minutes after the gal is got, the race is run, the war is won.<br />
<br />
After the celebration, the owners haul out the old film equipment and
instal the new digital equipment in time for the next day's movies.<br />
<br />
The Simplex from the 1950s now sits in the lobby. Chris will show you how it worked.<br />
<br />
"As a film lover, you love the fact that you've been working with the
same technology and format that you started with," Nasim Kuenzel says.
"But we've got to change with the times, and fortunately we're one of
the few lucky ones."<br />
<br />
The lucky ones? We residents of Fayetteville.<br />
<br />
<i>Skye Dent is a film and TV writer who lives in Fayetteville. She
is a former member of the Observer's Community Advisory Board.</i>Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-7436348615411258762013-03-08T14:15:00.001-08:002013-03-08T14:15:37.426-08:00Coming Soon: Skye's TV Series Writing Workshop<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pWOOe7Aw_JI/UTpi9UXg4DI/AAAAAAAAAE8/XXlrsrBEDDw/s1600/HollywoodSkye+jpeg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pWOOe7Aw_JI/UTpi9UXg4DI/AAAAAAAAAE8/XXlrsrBEDDw/s320/HollywoodSkye+jpeg.jpg" width="247" /></a></div>
<br />Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-41859907453908429902013-02-17T09:52:00.002-08:002013-02-17T13:52:20.001-08:00Why I Don't Write Film/TV Critiques or Reviews<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]-->So why don’t you write film and TV critiques, Skye?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve sold screenplays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve sold TV scripts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve written documentaries and even a safe
sex video game.<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">You teach writing for narrative film and TV series.</span> You used to be a full time journalist and still write opinion
pieces for various newspapers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You
clearly have a journalistic voice, an audience, and newspaper friends in high and low places.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How can you stay silent on films such as <i>Skyfal</i>l when the
world is talking about the effects of media violence on viewers?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why won’t you speak up on the subject of
<i>Django Unchained</i> and the status of African Americans in this country?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And when it comes to the military, one would think you’d
have reasoned opinions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You lived in a
military city for several years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You learned
how to parachute from retired Vietnam Vets .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And you know what it takes to produce a
series like <i>Homeland</i> or a film like <i>Zero Dark Thirty</i>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Does your tongue need to be unchained?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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For me, the reason is simple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may not fit in with our new world view in which
everyone feels free to be a pundit on every subject under the sun
and some not.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But, for me, there are ethical lines that I do not cross.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Years ago, I interviewed Ben Affleck for a Boston Globe feature article I
wrote on Greenlight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now, I was pitching and writing scripts at the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, interviewing Ben as a journalist meant
that I could not approach him as a screenwriter.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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What if I had and he had purchased a script of mine?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A Boston Globe reader might complain that I
only wrote the article to get in good with him and his partner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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I honestly think <i>Promised Land</i> is the most overlooked film
when it comes to the Oscars, Golden Globes, SAG awards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, if I wrote the whys and wherefores in a column, the administrators of those guilds or the producers of winning
films might claim that I was biased.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not
only had I interviewed Ben.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I once had a
friendly exchange with Matt about Good Will Hunting on a balcony of a Hollywood
hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I grew up in
Boston. And OMG, I once had a lengthy exchange about novel writing with Dennis Lehane and am part of the search for his lost dog Tessa.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are all sorts of biases one can throw against me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just last week, I attended a conference on media images.
Several people <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>immediately asked if I
was writing an article on what the speakers said about particular films and
their negative images.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No, No, and No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m a producer-writer-professor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I teach and practice what I preach.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Yes, I believe that I can be objective if I were to write
film critiques.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if I did that for a
living, I would take the proper safeguards to protect the media I wrote for
from ever being accused of biases.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But, for now, I don’t cross the lines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Producers and companies that I’m pitching my
pilots and screenplays to should not have to worry that if they reject me, that
I’m going to write a blistering article about their next production.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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I should not have to wonder whether a producer is meeting me
because he or she truly liked my work or liked what I said about theirs.</div>
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<br /></div>
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There was a published article by me about the film The
Help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, it was not a critique.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was simply an opinion piece about the
pride I felt in seeing a film about a person who reflected my mom, my aunts,
and a generation of women who raised me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Sometimes it does seem as if this is a user and abuser
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Friends” Facebook you to get to other
Facebook friends that they really want to contact. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I’ve even been interviewed for jobs because one of my
references is the famed filmmaker Charles Burnett and the potential employers really
wanted an excuse to talk to Charles one-on-one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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But, I don’t have to buy into it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I’m not unique in that aspect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Hollywood has its problems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Entertainment has its pitfalls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But,
there are some really great humanistic people in the world of entertainment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would not have achieved all that I had
without them.<br />
<br />
After I became a member of the WGA, I met Helen and Al Levitt. They were in their elder years, but still on their feet and still fighting for the rights of writers. In case their names don't ring a bell, they were two of many who stood up against McCarthyism...had to write under fake names to survive, and lost out on many rewards they deserved careers in the bloodbath. <br />
<br />
Helen ran a free writers workshop out of her home for minorities. I, the late Daryl Nickens and Moesha creators Sara Finney and Vida Spears came out of that workshop.<br />
<br />
There are so many other writers with hearts that cannot be dampened. Craig Wright. Charles Burnett. Kevin Droney. Robert Townsend. Bob Eisele. Dennis Leoni. Neema Barnett. Coleman Luck. Carleton Eastlake. The late T.S. Cook, whose film The China Syndrome deserves a second look in light of the fracking controversy. People who I don't have time to name, people who stay true to similar beliefs and passed them onto me through mentorship, friendships and casual conversation.<br />
<br />
Their characters count. At least it did for me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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So, I choose to follow in their footsteps and maintain my
humanistic and professional values, knowing that what I do choose to present of
myself in the worlds of journalism and entertainment is more than enough.</div>
Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-76236914071757395282012-12-28T11:42:00.000-08:002012-12-28T11:44:26.223-08:00Not Just Another Acronym<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Took another step in my goal of
being the best damn writer-producer-professor prepared for a disaster. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Already had CERT training on both
coasts, CPR training in three states, a Connecticut gun safety training
certificate, and a California Dept. of Justice Handgun Safety Certificate. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Today, I received my card for the
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Now, I can rescue you, disarm your weapon, bring you back to life, and make sure the building we seek
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So, there!!! </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">How many black sci fi chicks do you
know who can do all that?</span></b></div>
Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-60218396341567790272012-12-20T19:24:00.000-08:002012-12-28T11:46:43.696-08:00Unwrapping The Candidates<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">http://fayobserver.com/articles/2012/12/21/1225357?sac=fo.opinion</span></div>
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The Fayetteville Observer<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span>Published: 09:24 PM, Thu Dec 20,
2012</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Unwrapping The C<span style="font-size: large;">andidates</span></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It's rare for anyone to leave a Christmas present unopened.
Yet that's exactly what happened Tuesday. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Twice.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Fayetteville City Manager Ted Voorhees presented two widely
publicized opportunities to meet, question and converse with the two police
chief finalists. But fewer than 100 people came to the meetings. That meant
most Fayettevilleans missed two wonderful pre-Christmas gifts.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Malik Aziz, 44,
a deputy police chief from Dallas, Texas, and Harold Medlock, 55, a
Charlotte-Mecklenburg deputy chief.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I was a little skeptical about the timing. How much can one
learn in an hour? It would take 15 minutes just for Voorhees and City Council
folk to make speeches.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I was wrong. Voorhees spoke for two minutes. No politicians
spoke. Audience members asked direct, short questions. Without hesitation, Aziz
and Medlock answered every question tossed at them - even irrelevant inquiries
about their personal lives (more about that later).</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Their experience</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Both deputy chiefs hold impressive histories of law
enforcement covering several decades. Both are strong believers in community
policing, with proof of participation on the tip of their tongues. Both have a
can-do background and a we-can spirit.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Who am I to make such claims? I've been here just a few
years. I'm still learning local politics. But I do know cops. I have relatives
in law enforcement in Boston. I was a crime reporter for many years. And I
worked crime scenes, mostly murders, with police officers when I was a member
of the Los Angeles Police Department Crisis Response Team.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The team is a unique community policing organization, born
of a need for someone who was not part of the crime-solving police unit to be
on the scenes of murders, drive-bys or fatal accidents for the living victims.
The CRT was made easier by the fact that we were volunteers, we had day jobs,
and most violent crime happened at night - when we were all on call.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I've stood for hours in the street with a mom while police
inside investigated how her son lost a game of Russian roulette. I've sat with
officers as they worked unpaid double shifts because three children saw their
mother slain in front of their eyes and, if we didn't find a relative by dawn,
the kids would be split up and put in child-protective services. I once worked
a dreadful scene in which two vans of high school graduates on their way to a
party accidentally parked on a street owned by a notorious gang. Before the
celebrants could exit the vehicles, seven were slaughtered.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Team members comfort, call relatives, cuddle infants,
provide information, escort living victims through morgues to identify bodies.
Once, we even helped hose down a walkway so the mother of a deceased youth
would not have to step over blood going back into her home. We never knew what
we would be asked to do. We never denied a request.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Fayetteville is so much smaller than Los Angeles that it may
not need its own Crisis Response Team. But, community policing can be attuned
to the particularities of any city. And these two men seemed knowledgeable and
more than capable about how to achieve that, with, they stressed, the input and
support of - you, guessed it, the community.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Did their homework</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A sign of how quickly the two would respond quickly became
evident. At the noon meeting, two of us voiced concerns about violence at one
of the local universities. Somehow, in between a packed afternoon and before
the 5 p.m. meeting, Aziz and Medlock had driven to and around the university,
doing a quick exploration of how difficult or easy it was to gain entry.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In Wednesday's paper, reporter Andrew Barksdale gave a
pretty detailed account of the two candidates' backgrounds and their answers to
questions. I understand he will be writing more about these two personable,
intelligent, oftentimes humorous men.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One local columnist did criticize Aziz for being more
"reserved" than Medlock when answering a question from Councilman
Keith Bates about their personal lives and his family life. Medlock said he had
a wife of 30 years, Gloria. Aziz mentioned a 15-year-old daughter and a
20-year-old son without providing their names or much detail.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In this new Internet age, in which privacy is violated with
a keystroke, what the columnist criticized as reserved, I took as a protective
reticence against providing any information about his teenage daughter. One can
assume Aziz has arrested one or two bad guys in his 20 years with the Dallas
police. Should he be criticized for not wanting to spell out her name, school,
future goals, etc., in the news media?</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Bates question itself seemed inappropriate. Does not
having children mean that Medlock would not appreciate family values? Does not
discussing your children in an Internet world, where sexual predators lie in
wait behind computer screens, imply that Aziz doesn't have family values?</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To me, one of the signs that either man will be great at the
job is the relationship that developed during the brief time they spent
together on Tuesday. The noon meeting was the first time they had spoken
together and were hearing each other's opinions. By the 5 p.m. meeting, they
were using each other's first names, complimenting each other, and remarking
about the similarity in their approaches. They generously laughed at each
other's punchlines, even though they had heard them at noon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The problem now? Which gift to return. "Aziz &
Medlock" may sound like the newest TNT cop drama duo. But, unfortunately,
we don't get to keep both of them.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Skye Dent is is a member of the
Observer's Community Advisory Board, which meets regularly with the editorial
board to discuss local issues and contributes op-ed columns. She has worked as
a newspaper reporter, a screenwriter and a journalism professor.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></div>
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Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-61880028417068944062012-11-04T21:02:00.001-08:002012-12-28T11:48:00.050-08:00Do Newspaper Presidential Endorsements Count?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Do Newspaper Presidential Endorsement Count?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">By Skye Dent</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Newspapers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Popular
opinion would have you believe they‘re on their way to extinction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re under 30, you don’t read em.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>30 to 60?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You’re working so many jobs, where’s the time?.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>60 and up, your Social Security Check won’t
stretch that far.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yes, media literary has been incorporated into many middle
school standards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, by the end of
high school, many of these students are<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I-Card carrying members of The Text Generation, a parallel universe
where nouns and punctuation are as optional as bras were in the Sixties.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, if Americans are not reading newspapers, do they even
care about those more thoughtful pieces about Presidential candidates that
include both information, provide opinions, and suggest who you should vote for
in ways that range from pungent to provocative. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You know what I’m talking about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Editorials
endorsements.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In recent weeks leading up to this week’s election, you’ve
seen them on commercials, one-sheets advertisements, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>fliers invading your mailbox like pesky
mosquitoes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We can tell by TV commercial ads that the candidate who got
the particular endorsement thinks his voters are swayed more by celebrities
than journalists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The commercial
starts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surging towards you is something
akin to the intro legend to every Star Wars movie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Tampa
Bay Times endorses President Obama.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Steady economic<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>progress.
Sure-footed foreign policy.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The
Orlando Sentinel backs Governor Romney.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Able, Tested Leader.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Clearly, the campaigns of both President Barack Obama and
former Governor Mitt Romney believe that newspaper political endorsements
count.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Even if you don’t read the Wall Street Journal, the New York
Times, The Raleigh News and Observer, the Des Moine Register or the
Fayetteville Observer, you know who they endorsed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well, kinda sorta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Actually,
the Fayetteville Observer(founded in 1816) historically gives opinions on
issues, but not candidates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>any level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Coming 13 years ago from a paper
that did make endorsements, The Cape Cod Times, the FayOb’s editorial chief Tim
White said he saw no reason to change history.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“It’s not a written policy,” White says, “It’s something
that’s been handed down generation to generation.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I researched the subject and found that<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>an exception was made for Zebulon Baird
Vance, a former Confederate military officer in the Civil War who won the North
Carolina gubernatorial election in 1862 running on a platform promoting
individual rights and local self-government.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">White was unfamiliar with Vance, simply saying “When the
ownership of the company says no, we’ve never endorse, that’s good enough for
me.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Given the fact that many newspapers are getting out of the
endorsement business and most research shows that endorsements have less effectiveness
than ever, I don’t see us getting into it at this time.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">White believes that the times have finally caught up with
The Observer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With so much media being
thrown at citizens by TV, Cable, Radio, and The Internet, he believes that the
impact and influence of a newspaper editorial is severely diminished and, in
many cases unwanted.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“With so many people getting their information from the
internet,” says White, “I don’t think it would matter even if we did endorse.
I’m not sure how much of a positive force it would have on the election.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Newspapers, say some, should print…news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let us make up our own minds.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Although Orage Quarles III, the publisher of the Raleigh
News & Observer certainly wants every individual to decide for his or
herself, his position on endorsements is totally opposite to that of White’s.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Newspapers,” Quarles says, “ are really<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>well -suited to provide endorsements because
we have the ability to vet candidates, the ability to do research.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“And most of all,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we
have the ability to sit down face-to-face with candidates and understand their
point of views.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For these reasons,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>when we make an endorsement, it’s based on
our belief that this is the best candidate for the position.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My opinion merges the two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes, we are swamped by news and information from newspapers, other news
sources, and the media.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only more,
but at a faster pace.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At 8:20 a.m. last week, I dashed to get coffee from my local
BP, hoping to get back in time for the 8:30 a.m. announcement of the jobs growth.
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walked in the door
at 8:31.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Already the announcement of the
171,000 October jobs gain was being<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>sliced, diced, and interpreted by a CNN batch of experts.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Never the less, In my mind, being barraged by news and
information 24/7 is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">exactly</i> the
reason why we need newspaper editorial endorsements.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re written by people who are trained to
write and analyze the news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To editorial
boards, media literary is an inherent way of life, not a required grade school
class.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So what if the internet era has pitched newspaper
circulation into steady declined in the last decade. Naysayers point out that
from almost 47 million per day in 2004 to barely 40 million in 2011, according
to the Newspaper Association of America.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I say circulation has gone down only by seven million in the last seven
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seven million people who do care
about newspapers have to say.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Add that to the huge numbers of people who read newspaper
articles taken for free and given away for free by internet aggregators like
Google.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And families like mine (I buy
the hard copy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Give it to my mom when
I’m finished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She gives it to my uncle
Frankie when she’s finished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And by late
afternoon, I can hear him reading sections out on the porch to anyone who wants
to listen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Call it the first internet.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In addition, traditional newspapers who have faced their
fears and explored the new technology have found ways to monetize the internet.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Print readership may be going down, but digital readership
is going up. “ Quarles says. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And the combination
of the two has resulted in our total readership being <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>at an all-time high.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s why we feel very comfortable with
letting people know where we stand politically.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But, even with that, we’re told readers won’t read the
editorials.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The space could be used for
something readers want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Readers will put
their money someplace else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a
marketing decision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Money is tight.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">To which I say, if you’re going to make all of your
journalism decision based on monetary goals, you’re in the wrong business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Newspapers were given freedom of the press so
as to “inform the public so that it may govern.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The public.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That’s you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We’ve already seen situations in which wrongs are hidden for
decades because journalists did not have the resources or money to
investigate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the news media starts abdicating
its one First Amendment right drafted to protect our right to free speech,
religion, petition and assembly, how long will it be before we lose all
five.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That’s my opinion. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
invite all of you to voice your opinion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But, still, according to Bloomberg News, the New York Times
‘ endorsement of President Obama last Sunday was the most clicked on item on
the paper’s website, in spite of Hurricane Sandy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-24068755844392869582012-09-07T11:37:00.001-07:002012-09-07T11:59:57.255-07:00Skye's Column "Conventional Wisdom", Fayetteville Observer<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -4.5pt;">
The Fayetteville Observer</div>
"Conventional Wisdom" <br />
Column<a href="http://fayobserver.com/articles/2012/09/06/1201978?sac=fo.opinion">http://fayobserver.com/articles/2012/09/06/1201978?sac=fo.opinion</a><br />
by<br />
Skye Dent<br />
<br />
Published: 12:10 AM, Thu Sep 06, 2012<br />
<br />
Having watched most of the Republican National Convention on TV, I pretty much felt I was getting everything important without having to be there.<br />
<br />
Yes, the commentators annoyed me by continuously pushing for feedback from an opposing side on everything. By now, you would have thought on-air journalists would know that context matters more to Americans than controversy.<br />
<br />
But I forgive TV journalists for baring their teeth. Every other series normally airing during prime time features sharp-toothed vampires.<br />
<br />
So, where comes the sun, now that it's the Democrats' turn? For me, it was a three-hour drive to Charlotte. I wanted to watch the convention in the privacy of my own home. But when you have ink in your blood and rare national events like the conventions or the SuperBowl are in your home state, you gotta go.<br />
<br />
That's where the dreaded "C" word comes in. No, I refuse to diss Clint. He's one of my favorite filmmakers. <br />
He's shot films in my Boston hometown. And the last time I saw him, he spent about 15 minutes talking with me about one of my two favorite novelists, Dennis Lehane. He's allowed a senior moment.<br />
<br />
We're talking about Compromise. In my case, that meant driving to Charlotte for some pre-DNC meetings inside and hanging outside at the protest with my homeboys - police officers and journalists.<br />
<br />
The protest was a bust. Twenty times as many spectators as protesters.<br />
<br />
But conventions always hold wonderful surprises. Mine came because I couldn't take the heat. I went into the Caviar Nightclub for some air conditioning and stumbled upon famed musician Gerald Albright rehearsing.<br />
<br />
Finally, my stupid iPhone came in handy. I got permission to shoot some footage while he played and even obtained a semi-commitment to score my short film.<br />
<br />
My second planned event was equally rewarding. I was one of a fortunate 50 invited to The Charlotte Observer for a brunch hosted by UNC's School of Journalism and Mass Communication<br />
<br />
Hodding Carter, a political commentator and President Carter's State Department spokesman, spoke with the folksy wit of Grandpa Walton and the relentless intelligence of Star Trek's Data.<br />
<br />
His key point? The South is going through a fundamental change. The economically vital South is not static in its population base and thus has vast streams of people not tied to the past. "It was not a small thing that three Southern states voted for Obama," Carter said, "but revolutionary."<br />
<br />
Peter Coclanis, an economic historian and the director of the Global Research Institute, was more pessimistic. He softened the blow with an intro joke, describing an economic historian as one "who loves numbers, but lacks sufficient charm, grace and wit to become an accountant." .<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';">His main point was that the forces that created the Sunbelt South economy between the 1940s and 1980s had been largely spent. The decline of light industry in the 90s and the new millennium shoved many once prosperous places in NC into forlorn, if, not hopeless basket cases “beset by every imaginable social pathology”</span></div>
<br />
Kareem Crayton was next, a law professor whose research focuses on voter ID laws and voting rights. If one makes this a racially divided election, he said, the Democrats will always lose. The decreased availability of early voting will have a negative impact, he said, especially in the South, which used this tool effectively to get the vote out.<br />
<br />
Jacqueline Hall, founder of the Southern Oral History Project, reminded us that the civil rights movement was about economic issues, not just legal segregation. And while many of the overt segregation issues were resolved, the economic discrepancies remained. "The distinction between the good civil rights that succeeded and the bad war on poverty that failed is often misunderstood."<br />
<br />
Deliberate propaganda, she said, has stirred up and renewed feelings of resentment and stereotypes, redefining concepts such as affirmative action as "a wedge issue created to bring white workers into the Republican Party by creating the belief that it was a zero sum game."<br />
<br />
This made me sit up. I had heard some professors describe Caucasian students as being part of the new minority that deserved greater financial aid. Was that a real or wedge issue?<br />
<br />
Gene Nichol, a civil rights, constitutional and poverty law attorney, sure did know his numbers.<br />
<br />
"Today we have more poor people and more politicians untroubled by it," he said. Over 15 percent of us live in poverty, some 47 million, and the highest raw numbers in our nation's history. Thirty percent of Latinos live in poverty. Over 25 percent of our kids. Forty percent of our children of color.<br />
<br />
"We have more poor people in the South and less commitment to doing something about it," he concluded. <br />
<br />
Being one of the newly unemployed, I started to wonder which figure I might soon be a part of.<br />
Jesse White, former co-chair of the Appalachian Regional Commission, wrapped up the session by pointing out what he called the fallacy of globalization. "Over the last 30 years, globalization has ripped the covers off the bed of Southern society.<br />
<br />
"By investing well in post secondary education but poorly in K-12, we've created a bifurcated society in which jobs have disappeared, leaving the bottom third of our population high and dry," he said.<br />
<br />
These were all subjects and ideas that are being discussed at the convention, just not in front of the cameras. But the numbers were not just numbers. They reflected an equally diminishing lack of humanity deliberately being ignored by our politicians and the populace.<br />
<br />
I put on my headphones as I left the seminar, hoping my impromptu taping of Gerald Albright might lift my spirits. But, for the first time in my life, I felt my hopes for the future... also diminishing.<br />
<br />
(Skye Dent is a TV and film writer, educator, journalist and a member of the Fayetteville Observer's Community Advisory Board.)<br />
<br />Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-80223200644959146662012-09-07T11:17:00.001-07:002012-09-07T11:17:19.939-07:00Fayetteville Observer: Conventional Wisdom<a href="http://fayobserver.com/articles/2012/09/06/1201978?sac=fo.opinion">Skye's Fayetteville Observer "Conventional Wisdom" Column</a>Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-5728042635651900562012-09-03T13:11:00.001-07:002012-12-28T11:49:43.904-08:00A Grateful Group of Writers Gives Thanks to Bill and Camille Cosby<h4>
For Immediate Release September 2, 2012 </h4>
Los Angeles - The sudden ending to what’s affectionately known throughout the entertainment community as The Cosby Writing Program has resulted in an outpouring of gratitude tinged with despair for the loss of a program that, during its 18-year-history, trained and placed hundreds of writers of color behind the cameras of some of America’s most well-known and respected television series.<br />
<br />
Weary of seeing so many negative images of minorities in film and television, Bill and Camille Cosby established the program in 1993, explained program executive director Doreene Hamilton. <br />
<br />
“It was a unique program in that it contains equal parts of writing instruction as well as historical knowledge of the role of blacks in the development of America,” Hamilton said.<br />
<br />
Although the entertainment community knows the program as The Cosby Writers Program, its official name is The Guy A. Hanks and Marvin Miller Screenwriting Program. The Cosbys chose that name to honor Camille’s father, Guy Hanks, and Bill’s longtime friend and prolific producer, Marvin H.Miller. <br />
<br />
“To lose the fellowship is a tremendous blow” said Richard Wesley, the chair of NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts graduate screenwriting program as well as the writer of the hit films Let’s Do It Again and Uptown Saturday Night that starred both Bill Cosby and Sidney Poitier.<br />
<br />
“Just knowing that the program was in existence was a tremendous boost to every young aspiring filmmaker or TV writer who I came into contact with,” Wesley said. <br />
<br />
“The Cosby Program was like a farm system for African American writers. Producers and executives would look to the program when looking for writers.” said David Wyatt, co-chair of the WGA west Black Writers Committee and a writer who worked on “Cosby”, “Eve”, “Sister, Sister” and many other series.<br />
<br />
“Being part of the The Cosby Program was a blast -- undoubtedly one of my best professional experiences. It was great to be part of a coterie of writers not only connected by our history, but by our desire to make a difference.,” said Sylvia Franklin, a former staff writer on NBC’s “Medical Investigation”.<br />
<br />
Peter Saji, a Cosby Writing Program alum who is a co-producer on the hit series Cougar Town, voiced concerns for the next generation of black writers.<br />
<br />
"A lot of black people don't have the connections to secure writers' assistant jobs, and the Cosby Program was a great way for them to break into the industry, “ Saji said. “The biggest disappointment for me is that now when aspiring writers of color ask me how to get started, I'm not sure what to tell them." <br />
<br />
Wesley agreed, saying “The progress in Hollywood has not been sufficient that we can afford to lose an institution like the Cosby Fellowship.”<br />
<br />
Even writers who were not a part of the program, based at the USC School of Cinema, credit it with their success. <br />
<br />
“I don’t think I, a black science fiction TV writer, would have been as accepted in Hollywood if not for inroads made by Cosby program writers,” said Skye Dent, a former writer for Star Trek Voyager and The Burning Zone who has been teaching writing in the University of North Carolina system.<br />
<br />
“This may be the end of this particular chapter,” said Franklin, “ but for all of us who were part of it, we've only begun to tell our stories."<br />
<br />
The WGA-West and the WGA Committee of Black Writers (CBW) will hold a 7 p.m., September 24, 2012 celebration commemoration at the WGA building, 7,000 West Third Street, Los Angeles, CA 90048. Guests include Cosby Program alumni, CBW members, invited WGA members and entertainment industry leaders. <br />
<br />
# # #<br />
<br />
A Partial List of Cosby Program Alumni Credits<br />
<br />
EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS<br />
<br />
Janine Sherman Barrois: Criminal Minds <br />
Meg De Loach: Reed Between the Lines; Family Matter, Creator of Eve;<br />
<br />
C0-EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS<br />
<br />
Michael Ajakwe, Jr: Unsung, Love That Girl, Brothers Garcia, Sister, Sister, Martin, Entertainment Tonight, Talk Soup<br />
<br />
PRODUCERS AND CO-PRODUCERS<br />
Pat Charles: Bones; Sons of Anarchy <br />
<br />
Ayanna Floyd: Private Practice<br />
<br />
Peter Saji: Cougar Town <br />
<br />
Anthony Sparks: Undercovers, Lincoln Heights, The District<br />
<br />
EXECUTIVE STORY EDITORS, STORY EDITORS, STAFF AND FREELANCE<br />
<br />
Brandon Broussard: House of Payne <br />
<br />
Talicia Raggs: NYC 22; Saving Grace<br />
<br />
Valencia Parker: Reed Between the Lines; My Wife and Kids <br />
<br />
Elyce Strong: Lincoln Heights<br />
<br />
Judy Dent: Love That Girl; Eve <br />
<br />
Bonita Alfred: Girlfriends<br />
<br />
Sonya Steel: ER <br />
<br />
Lakeshia Walker: Dirty Sexy Money<br />
<br />
Greg Storm: Night Stalker <br />
<br />
Lamar Sally: Rodney, Deal with HBO<br />
<br />
Terri Brown: House of Payne; The Parkers, Built to Last <br />
<br />
Chuck Cummings: Homeboys in Outer Space<br />
<br />
Theo Tavers: House of Lies<br />
<br />
Clayvon Harris: Farscape; For Your Love; Star Trek – Voyager; Soul Food; Living Single<br />
<br />
Sylvia Franklin: Medical Investigations<br />
<br />
FEATURE WRITERS/DIRECTORS <br />
<br />
Dee Rees: Pariah<br />
<br />
Sherry Compton Carjacked <br />
<br />
Lichelli Lazar-Lea: The Truth About Angels <br />
<br />
Zelie Dember-Slack: The Sweetest Heir<br />
<br />
Hanelle Culpepper (Director) Murder on the 13th Floor, Deadly Sibling Rivalry<br />
<br />
REWRITE SPECIALISTS <br />
<br />
Kemp Powers <br />
<br />
Peter Saji<br />
<br />
CJ Johnson <br />
<br />
Faythallegra Coleman<br />
<br />
Kirkland Morris <br />
<br />
Ron Covington & Tonis Thomas<br />
<br />
AWARD WINNING PLAYWRIGHTS <br />
Lorey Hayes: “Haiti’s Children Of God,” “Massinissa and the Tragedy of the House of Thunder” “Power Play” <br />
<br />
Levy Lee Simon: Kennedy Center/ACTF Lorraine Hansberry Award 1999 – “The Bow-Wow Club,” Audelco Award-1997 “The Guest at Central Park” <br />
<br />
Kimba Henderson: “The Reckoning” <br />
<br />
Chuck Cummings: “Reflection Day” <br />
<br />
Michael Ajakwe, Jr: “Happy Anniversary Punk”, “Company Policy” <br />
<br />
REALITY TV ALUM<br />
Angela Smith: Divorce Court – Supervising Producer Kai Bowe: Americas Next Top Model – Story Editor<br />
<br />
Tiffany Williams: Whale Wars – Associate Producer Kristen Carter: I Used To Be Fat – Writer<br />
<br />
Shawnelle Gibbs: Top Chef; Project Runway – Story ProducerShawnee Gibbs: Starting Over – Associate Producer<br />
<br />
Shirley Neal: Park Hill Entertainment: Prince Behind the Symbol; Isaiah Washington’s Passport to Sierra Leone; The Down Low Exposed. Africa Channel.<br />
<br />
NEW MEDIA AND WEB SERIES<br />
Michael Ajakwe, Jr: 1st annual Los Angeles Web Series Festival <br />
<br />
Sonya Steel: “Celeste Bright”<br />
<br />
Paul Mays & Terrance Hill: “RX” Kristen Carter: “Sellout”<br />
<br />
Theo Tavers: “Knife Party at Niko’s”<br />
<br />
FELLOWS SERVING ON THE EXECUTIVE BUSINESS SIDE <br />
<br />
Tiffany Williams: Creative Executive – Tony Krantz/Flame Ventures<br />
<br />
Jacqueline Lyanga: Director of the American Film Institute, Film Festival<br />
<br />
Peter Murray: Licensing Coordinator <br />
<br />
Shirley Neal: Executive VP of Programming and Production – Africa Channel<br />
<br />
Kai Bowe: Development Executive – Africa Channel<br />
<br />
Jocelyn Coleman: VP of Creative Affairs and PR Specialist – Tri Destined Studios<br />
<br />
Daniella Masterson: Public Relations Specialist – Masterson PR <br />
<br />Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-27751202239381876112012-04-30T18:01:00.000-07:002012-04-30T18:01:01.466-07:00Permanent Beta I am, I amOk, this is entirely not fair. I've always been a permanent beta kind of gal. I just didn't have a cool name for it. Then Reid Hoffman and Ben Casnocha come up with permanent beta. And just because the co-founded this little web site called Linked In, they get all the credit. Hmmm. (smile) <br />
<br />
Well, just remember, I was the creator of the term "The Text Generation."<br />
<br />
Actually, I came on line to update my page. But, Google is trying to make me go to Google Chrome by saying my page won't work until I fall in line, get with the program, drink the cool goog aid.<br />
<br />
So, I'll go to my Mac and work around the rules. After all, I'm a NYU Tisch grad with violet nails to prove it. I oughta be able to outsmart this thing....or not. Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-3170097987626258992011-12-20T19:20:00.000-08:002011-12-20T19:28:50.012-08:00Phage, My Star Trek Voyager episodeWas looking for a DVD of my Star Trek Voyager episode when I found it online. No wonder I'm no longer getting residuals. :) Click Title to view.Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-90422549324000838242011-08-21T07:41:00.000-07:002011-12-03T08:30:28.717-08:00Couldn't Help But See The HelpThe Fayetteville Observer published this opinion piece of mine, the third in a commissioned series.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Couldn't Help But See "The Help"</span><br />
<br />
by Skye Dent<br />
<br />
I hadn't planned on seeing "The Help," the new hit film revolving around the lives of black maids catering to dark-souled white women in the 1960s South.<br />
<br />
Sure, there were good solid reasons to attend.<br />
<br />
As a black female who wrote scripts in Hollywood for over a decade, I know the small band of brothers and sisters of color still working there. I generally know someone who has worked on, crewed in, acted in or written any film somehow involving black people in front of or behind the camera. So, I support the product of my friends just as I buy the tamales my cousins make and sell door-to-door in Los Angeles.<br />
<br />
And although many people think only black people can enjoy or identify with black films, that's preposterous. Audiences enjoy good films, no matter what. I've written for general audience TV shows such as "Star Trek Voyager" and "The Burning Zone." I'm proof positive that black people can write scripts that white people enjoy.<br />
<br />
But "The Help" was another story, one I knew would hit home in a painful way from seeing the 30-second trailers. It was my story. My mom's story. My aunt's story. My grandmother's story. The story of many black women from generations before mine.<br />
<br />
For all of them, it was a story of searingly brutal sacrifice punctuated with few moments of self-fulfillment.<br />
<br />
The story of Negro women denied important time with their own families because they had to raise the kids of white folks. The story of women who scrub the floors of multiple level homes and then walk home in the dark to small cramped quarters shared with children and husbands they barely see.<br />
<br />
<strong>My family's story</strong><br />
<br />
My mom is from Belize. As a young woman, she was runner-up in the Beauty of the Bay pageant. She had every right to expect a fantastic life when she moved to the United States in the 1950s.<br />
Instead, she ended up being the help to a New Orleans family. Ten bucks a week to clean the house, take care of two kids, and cook breakfast, lunch and dinner. For the first few months, she didn't even get the full 10 bucks because the family deducted the costs of her passport and boat ride from Belize. When she became pregnant with my oldest sister, they kicked her out.<br />
<br />
She and my dad, a railroad cook who was part West Indian and part Mississippi Choctaw, moved to Boston as did many Negroes seeking a better life and less segregation. Again, she became the help. I'll always remember Mrs. McFawn, the Jewish woman in Brookline for whom my mom worked. For the first four years before I could attend school, my mom took me to work with her and sat me in a corner while she cleaned.<br />
<br />
In those days, tea-bag strings had cards attached. Mrs. McFawn did not make tea for me. Heavens no. But she did save the tea cards for me. Those cards had pictures of animals and little descriptions, my first clues to the power of the written word.<br />
<br />
Later, during summer vacations from junior high, I became the help. I washed dishes and served food at a senior citizens home. My most vivid memory was bringing food to one patient and finding her dead. A nurse reminded a very shocked me that she'd told me the patient had "expired." How was I to know what "expired" meant? I soon learned.<br />
<br />
And like the maid Aibileen that Viola Davis plays in "The Help," my mom lost her son at a young age - 16. We never knew the truth of how it happened. In those days, police used to take black boys into alleys and beat them behind the knees where the bruises were hesitant to show.<br />
<br />
A few reporters said police had killed my brother and wanted us to investigate. The police said he hanged himself. At the funeral, I snuck up front and tried to rub the makeup from his neck to see if there were burn marks. But my parents knew a world of trouble lay in wait for a black couple making claims against the then primarily white Boston Police. So, my mom packed away photos of my brother.<br />
<br />
Like Aibileen, my mom remained the help. Like the women in "The Help," what choice did she have? She not only had to help take care of her children. As an immigrant, she was expected to help those she left behind in Belize. She sent money home for decades. She helped sponsor relatives so they could start a better life.<br />
<br />
<strong>Results of their labor</strong><br />
<br />
My mom and my dad were the help all of their lives.<br />
<br />
Because of them, I got to go to Brown University, became the youngest editorial writer of a daily newspaper, produce documentaries for Discovery Channel, write a script for, and co-create an alien race for, "Star Trek Voyager," get a job as a staff writer on "The Burning Zone," work on "Dirty Sexy Money" and now, teach at Fayetteville State University.<br />
<br />
Because of my parents' sacrifices, one of my sisters went on to become a successful advertising production manager. The other is an artist. One of her paintings was in the "Sex and the City" movie. And the younger brother, the other brother, went into the restaurant business like my dad. We may occasionally have to put up with bosses who have Ph.Ds in stupidity and arrogance. But, we don't have to clean up after them.<br />
<br />
And now all of us siblings collaborate to take care of The Help. Yes, my mom has Social Security. But, it's never enough. So we fill in the gap. We take care of my mom. We "help" out.<br />
<br />
So, why did I go to see "The Help," knowing it would dredge up painful memories? My friend, longtime "NCIS" executive producer Charles Floyd Johnson (along with actors Terence Howard and Cuba Gooding) were appearing after the Philadelphia screening of "The Help" to talk about their new Lucas action-adventure feature film called "Red Tails."<br />
<br />
So I went to see "The Help" to have a seat up front when the credits ended and Charles came on stage. Charles introduced me to the Lucas marketing people. I got to see my friend and put in a plug to premiere "Red Tails" in Fayetteville in January.<br />
<br />
I'm glad I saw "The Help." The characters were nothing like the typical woe-is-me black maids we've come to know and dread. The women and men, white and black, were nuanced in a way that didn't detract from the realism, sadness and treachery of Jim Crow Mississippi.<br />
<br />
And surprisingly, it made me and the rest of the audience laugh for days. It had a "Driving Miss Daisy" feel, with more attitude and an expectation that viewers were intelligent.<br />
<br />
I don't care about the complaints that a white writer got to write a black woman's story. I don't care that, yes again, we people of color seem to star only in films from way back in history and cannot be stars set in our own time. I don't care that they fudge history (the film takes place in the '60s while the portrayed murder of Emmett Till occurred in 1955).<br />
<br />
"The Help," for me, proved an unexpected tribute to my grandmother Hannah, my aunts Grace and Idolly, and my mom Rosetta.<br />
<br />
When you go from being a Belizean Beauty of the Bay to bathing white folks' infants in the Jim Crow South, few people applaud.<br />
<br />
But, when the audience gave a standing ovation at the end of "The Help," they were clapping for my mom.Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-55896729061812684492011-06-12T18:31:00.000-07:002011-06-12T18:39:02.118-07:00There's Your Trouble / Fayetteville Observer ColumnPublished: 12:00 AM, Fri Jun 10, 2011<br />
Community Advisory Board: There's Your Trouble> < > < [+] By Skye Dent <br />
<br />
Recently, I was among community-minded intelligent colleagues discussing the wave of terrorist-like tornadoes when a haunting subject arose. The group expressed surprise that so many strangers offered help during the tornadoes' aftermath. <br />
<br />
They repeated quotes from others who were - surprised. The unknown off-duty military folks who pitched in without waiting to exhale. The stranger who did this. The no-name woman who did that. Their departing shadows reminded one of Clint Eastwood after he cleaned up the badlands and rode into the sunset with a nod, a squint and a toothpick between his teeth. <br />
<br />
Weeks later, visiting Missouri's Joplin where many lives were swept up and crushed, Barack Obama applauded similar "countless acts of courage." <br />
<br />
I had lived a bit of it in other places. Fires consuming acres, homes and wildlife. Floods. Earthquakes. My most vivid memories of the 1994 Northridge Earthquake were both aching and amusing. To avoid closed off streets, I biked 10 miles to my office at Warner Interactive. The guard wouldn't let me in. Even after scanning my work I.D., he said I might be there to loot. <br />
<br />
So, I called my regular disaster volunteer organization. L.A. Works sent me to a retirement home to pick up fallen items for evacuating seniors. I spent hours packing hundreds of porn videos, pretending for a tenant's benefit that I didn't know what they were. <br />
<br />
There were thanks. Gratitude. But no surprise. <br />
<br />
What does surprise me now, 10-plus years later, is why so many people here and in other parts of the country seemed surprised that strangers would put their lives on hold to help. So maybe that is what we should be asking. Why is it that people devastated, left helpless by tornadoes, did not expect strangers to help? What is it about our psyche these days that we feel others won't respond in times of need and distress? <b></b><br />
<br />
<b>Aloneness</b><br />
<br />
According to S.L.A. Marshall, a World War I Army historian, when troops could not see each other, they felt more alone. Forced out of one's home and unable to contact friends and family, perhaps the tornado-stricken felt so alone that their normal expectations were put on hold.<br />
<br />
<br />
Taylor Clark, author of "Nerve: Poise Under Pressure," says that "under life-threatening stress, complex brain processing plummets and the neural mainstream often maxes out." I think he means that it's normal for our caveman instincts, "Lord of the Flies" expectations to take over.<br />
<br />
<br />
"Surviving under fire is about formatting your brain to take the right action reflexively," explains Clark. Did those who helped without question have their minds formatted from a previous catastrophic situation? Of course, that's part of the theory behind the CERT (Community Emergency Response Training) I took two years ago. Train regularly and the doing is automatic, we were told.<br />
<br />
<br />
That would explain the take-charge actions of many off-duty soldiers. What author Sally Le Boeuf calls "The Warrior's Edge." People from the military who, at one point or another, have lived at a level of performance at which physical skills are precisely executed with little effort. Snap, the cognitive process kicks in.<br />
<br />
<br />
Even in guys who fought as far back as Vietnam, I've seen that reaction. It's one reason I gave a few of them my "dig here" packet of driving routes and copies of I.D. before long drives. If I didn't arrive, their warrior's edge would kick in and the hunt would be on before you could say "criminal minds."<br />
<br />
<br />
Of course, we could blame news organizations for low expectations of charity. Newspapers and TV news get blamed for so much else. Think about it. The media highlight Good Samaritans as if they're endangered species. But that theory would assume that we readers and viewers are not media literate and cannot think for ourselves.<br />
<br />
<br />
Still, even on an international level, we're reminded that our country doesn't do good deeds just for virtue's sake. How many times have we been told in the last two weeks that America gives aid to Pakistan in exchange for strategic interests?<br />
<br />
<br />
Even on a new board that I'm a part of, some board members want to benefit financially from the organization's activities. We're talking about a nonprofit.<br />
<br />
<b>Compassion</b><br />
<br />
So is generosity a zero sum game? If you do something for me, do I incur a psychological debt that has to be made up? I took care of you when the tornado struck your house. Now you owe me. Better to be suspicious than to incur debt, goes the theory.<br />
<br />
<br />
Perhaps the answer isn't so deep. What if, even though compassion has not totally been kicked to the curb, it's simply no longer a fundamental character trait that counts? Hmmm. Well then, how long before we reach the stage where compassion is seen as a negative?<br />
<br />
<br />
To quote a popular country-western song, "there's your trouble."<br />
<br />
<br />
Skye Dent is a member of the Observer's Community Advisory Board, which meets regularly with the editorial board to discuss local issues and contributes op-ed columns. She is a professor within the University of North Carolina system as well as a newspaper reporter and screenwriter.Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-27116938777611089322011-06-12T18:18:00.000-07:002011-06-12T18:22:50.179-07:00Lessons In Soldiering On / Fayetteville ObserverThe Fayetteville Observer<br />
<b>Community Advisory Board: Some lessons in how to soldier on <br />
</b>By Skye Dent <br />
<br />
I was halfway through a rant on why I didn't look nearly old enough to be a hippie when my niece cut me short and said she was talking about attitude, not age. She accused me of being too spontaneous. Doing too much volunteer work. Uprooting myself every few years with nary a care for finance or romance. And what's with those paisley print scarfs, anyway?<br />
<br />
She had a point.<br />
<br />
Here I had just finished stuffing most needed belongings into my shrimpy Kia. Books. Copies of sold and mostly unsold scripts. A cooler of Trader Joe's and Whole Foods. More emergency supplies than seen in "The Road." And the Stratocaster I dreamed I'd one day have time for.<br />
<br />
Speaking of dreams - I was on my way from California to Fayetteville to fulfill another one.<br />
<br />
Recently, I'd realized that two of the people I respected most were both writers and military: journalist Richard Brooks and TV drama showrunner Coleman Luck. I didn't always like what Brooks or Luck said. But, they were straight up, disciplined men with an enviable dark brand of humor, sarcasm and blunt honesty.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, Fayetteville not only had such military and military-related students in abundance, but Fayetteville State University's new communication department needed a journalism professor with film and TV experience.<br />
<br />
<b>Lukewarm welcome<br />
</b><br />
My car coughed its way into Fayetteville on Aug. 6. Day 1 was not so welcoming. The motel manager said he gave away my room. Yes, I was on time. Yes, I had paid a deposit. Yes, I had a receipt in hand. The explanation? The military had suddenly come into town. The motel manager had decided that a bird in the hand was worth more than one on the road. Besides, the military paid a higher nightly rate.<br />
<br />
But born and bred Bostonian babes don't back down. We're scrappy, willing to throw down, at least with words. Twenty minutes of verbal fisticuffs later, the manager gave in and gave me a room.<br />
<br />
After a month, I found an apartment. The complex's credit company said I passed all the checks. Good credit rating. Two-year contract at FSU. But, the complex manager said no. She claimed the credit report said I owed $48 on a 2004 AAA card. When I pointed out that AAA was a membership organization and that one could not owe on it, the manager agreed with me, but still said no.<br />
<br />
The reality, I was told by colleagues, was that many landlords preferred military tenants because rent was paid directly out of allotments. Besides, when a pipe burst or some other fixture went bad, young recruits didn't make waves. And indeed, I started stirring the seas. I tracked down and called the corporate owners in Seattle. They checked my records, said there had to be some mistake, and within two days the apartment was mine.<br />
<br />
Still, I had come to teach and live in peace. Now, I was worried about me. What was life in Fayetteville going to be like, being a second-class citizen behind all things military?<br />
<br />
<b>Taking advantage<br />
</b><br />
Soon, I came to realize that new military residents had their own problem. I went to buy a bed at a place on Skibo. The price seemed outrageous. "Blame the military," said the young salesman. He explained that rather than reap benefits by being military, servicemen, especially younger ones, were often ripped off. Prices were jacked up for them.<br />
<br />
The rationale: A lot of new servicemen were unaccustomed to regular paychecks. It's often easy to part them from their money, especially when budgeting or even writing a check may be a foreign concept.<br />
<br />
A military couple staying at the original motel confirmed it. They and their two young kids were staying in a room the same size as mine and had tried to buy a car. When they complained that the huge deposit required was too much, the dealer said "we're not used to dealing with people like you."<br />
<br />
And this couple was from Carmel, Calif. Could living in Fayetteville be more expensive than the place where Clint Eastwood lives and makes his day, just down the road from Oprah?<br />
<br />
So, I started to do what journalists are trained to do best. Listen objectively. And take notes.<br />
<br />
Other folks in the military said many businesses profited madly by taking advantage of the military. It was so bad, they said, that Fort Bragg handed out a blacklist of establishments to avoid. But when you're a young recruit (or even a returning serviceman) whose life may end in Iraq or Afghanistan, worrying about a fair price may not be priority No. 1, blacklist notwithstanding.<br />
<br />
OK, I'm still confused. The assistant manager who runs the chain gas station where I get gas and coffee every morning says she's getting paid $10 an hour, after working there almost two decades. Most workers I meet in service positions seem to be making less. Where's the money going?<br />
<br />
<b>Top-notch<br />
</b><br />
The military students in my classes did live up to the models displayed by my West Coast veteran friends. They arrived at class on time, handed in quality work, completed reading on time and even lobbied for extra credit despite having top-of-the-class grades.<br />
<br />
The military wives followed suit. Diligent, determined. One improved her writing skills so dramatically in one semester that when she and her husband were transferred to Colorado, a U of C professor assured me he would be happy to ease her transition so she wouldn't lose a semester while getting settled.<br />
<br />
Another military wife who was pregnant the entire semester completed all her assignments prior to Thanksgiving because the baby was scheduled to arrive late in November. A few days after the baby was born early, she took a weekly quiz in the hospital rather than risk lowering her GPA.<br />
<br />
In fact, most of my students (military or not) lived up to my demands and expectations. Even those who did not always apply themselves were smart, funny, witty and warmhearted.<br />
<br />
I hope they know I'm here for them, here to make a difference. After all, military or civilian, it's the students at FSU who make my day.<br />
<br />
<i>Skye Dent is a professor within the University of North Carolina system, a journalist and screenwriter, and a member of the Fayetteville Observer Community Advisory Board. http://www.fayobserver.com/articles/2011/01/28/1063087?sac=Opin<br />
</i>Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-43986664039850770422011-05-18T13:18:00.000-07:002011-05-18T13:18:12.748-07:00I'm 5'6!!! Why are all of these graduates taller than me?? :)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RlY71rtMgFk/TdQpdrw705I/AAAAAAAAAEY/xcunMJxfRWA/s1600/DSC_2449-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="213" width="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RlY71rtMgFk/TdQpdrw705I/AAAAAAAAAEY/xcunMJxfRWA/s320/DSC_2449-1.jpg" /></a></div>Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-81154414872139818032011-05-06T14:29:00.000-07:002011-05-18T13:20:26.810-07:00Cruzin'<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-skCeub2AwK4/TcRo2s1C-NI/AAAAAAAAACg/k88H9Y1dZaE/s1600/Cruz%2B1.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-skCeub2AwK4/TcRo2s1C-NI/AAAAAAAAACg/k88H9Y1dZaE/s320/Cruz%2B1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603719125311617234" /></a><br />
And let's not forget a shoutout to Lt. Colonel Michael "Bo" Cruz, who surprisingly gets me more than the so-called liberals. Hmmm.Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-58919064197909717092011-01-29T17:20:00.000-08:002011-05-06T14:39:15.611-07:00Some Lessons In How To Soldier On<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nqhrCuI4vgA/TcRqe9wrYNI/AAAAAAAAACo/D1kot7t_P-g/s1600/m_cc7c09b2c16239d5e0ae1fba5f85036e%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 278px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nqhrCuI4vgA/TcRqe9wrYNI/AAAAAAAAACo/D1kot7t_P-g/s320/m_cc7c09b2c16239d5e0ae1fba5f85036e%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603720916563091666" /></a><br />http://www.fayobserver.com/articles/2011/01/28/1063087.aspx?sac=Opin<br />Opinion Piece by Yours Truly in The Fayetteville Observer<br />1/28/2011<br /><br />Community Advisory Board: Some lessons in how to soldier on<br /> <br />By Skye Dent <br /><br />I was halfway through a rant on why I didn't look nearly old enough to be a hippie when my niece cut me short and said she was talking about attitude, not age. She accused me of being too spontaneous. Doing too much volunteer work. Uprooting myself every few years with nary a care for finance or romance. And what's with those paisley print scarfs, anyway?<br /><br />She had a point.<br /><br />Here I had just finished stuffing most needed belongings into my shrimpy Kia. Books. Copies of sold and mostly unsold scripts. A cooler of Trader Joe's and Whole Foods. More emergency supplies than seen in "The Road." And the Stratocaster I dreamed I'd one day have time for.<br /><br />Speaking of dreams - I was on my way from California to Fayetteville to fulfill another one.<br /><br />Recently, I'd realized that two of the people I respected most were both writers and military: journalist Richard Brooks and TV drama showrunner Coleman Luck. I didn't always like what Brooks or Luck said. But, they were straight up, disciplined men with an enviable dark brand of humor, sarcasm and blunt honesty.<br /><br />Fortunately, Fayetteville not only had such military and military-related students in abundance, but Fayetteville State University's new communication department needed a journalism professor with film and TV experience.<br /><br />Lukewarm welcome<br />My car coughed its way into Fayetteville on Aug. 6. Day 1 was not so welcoming. The motel manager said he gave away my room. Yes, I was on time. Yes, I had paid a deposit. Yes, I had a receipt in hand. The explanation? The military had suddenly come into town. The motel manager had decided that a bird in the hand was worth more than one on the road. Besides, the military paid a higher nightly rate.<br /><br />But born and bred Bostonian babes don't back down. We're scrappy, willing to throw down, at least with words. Twenty minutes of verbal fisticuffs later, the manager gave in and gave me a room.<br /><br />After a month, I found an apartment. The complex's credit company said I passed all the checks. Good credit rating. Two-year contract at FSU. But, the complex manager said no. She claimed the credit report said I owed $48 on a 2004 AAA card. When I pointed out that AAA was a membership organization and that one could not owe on it, the manager agreed with me, but still said no.<br /><br />The reality, I was told by colleagues, was that many landlords preferred military tenants because rent was paid directly out of allotments. Besides, when a pipe burst or some other fixture went bad, young recruits didn't make waves. And indeed, I started stirring the seas. I tracked down and called the corporate owners in Seattle. They checked my records, said there had to be some mistake, and within two days the apartment was mine.<br /><br />Still, I had come to teach and live in peace. Now, I was worried about me. What was life in Fayetteville going to be like, being a second-class citizen behind all things military?<br /><br />Taking advantage<br />Soon, I came to realize that new military residents had their own problem. I went to buy a bed at a place on Skibo. The price seemed outrageous. "Blame the military," said the young salesman. He explained that rather than reap benefits by being military, servicemen, especially younger ones, were often ripped off. Prices were jacked up for them.<br /><br />The rationale: A lot of new servicemen were unaccustomed to regular paychecks. It's often easy to part them from their money, especially when budgeting or even writing a check may be a foreign concept.<br /><br />A military couple staying at the original motel confirmed it. They and their two young kids were staying in a room the same size as mine and had tried to buy a car. When they complained that the huge deposit required was too much, the dealer said "we're not used to dealing with people like you."<br /><br />And this couple was from Carmel, Calif. Could living in Fayetteville be more expensive than the place where Clint Eastwood lives and makes his day, just down the road from Oprah?<br /><br />So, I started to do what journalists are trained to do best. Listen objectively. And take notes.<br /><br />Other folks in the military said many businesses profited madly by taking advantage of the military. It was so bad, they said, that Fort Bragg handed out a blacklist of establishments to avoid. But when you're a young recruit (or even a returning serviceman) whose life may end in Iraq or Afghanistan, worrying about a fair price may not be priority No. 1, blacklist notwithstanding.<br /><br />OK, I'm still confused. The assistant manager who runs the chain gas station where I get gas and coffee every morning says she's getting paid $10 an hour, after working there almost two decades. Most workers I meet in service positions seem to be making less. Where's the money going?<br /><br />Top-notch<br />The military students in my classes did live up to the models displayed by my West Coast veteran friends. They arrived at class on time, handed in quality work, completed reading on time and even lobbied for extra credit despite having top-of-the-class grades.<br /><br />The military wives followed suit. Diligent, determined. One improved her writing skills so dramatically in one semester that when she and her husband were transferred to Colorado, a U of C professor assured me he would be happy to ease her transition so she wouldn't lose a semester while getting settled.<br /><br />Another military wife who was pregnant the entire semester completed all her assignments prior to Thanksgiving because the baby was scheduled to arrive late in November. A few days after the baby was born early, she took a weekly quiz in the hospital rather than risk lowering her GPA.<br /><br />In fact, most of my students (military or not) lived up to my demands and expectations. Even those who did not always apply themselves were smart, funny, witty and warmhearted.<br /><br />I hope they know I'm here for them, here to make a difference. After all, military or civilian, it's the students at FSU who make my day.<br /><br />Skye Dent is a journalism professor at Fayetteville State University, a journalist and screenwriter, and a member of the Fayetteville Observer Community Advisory Board. You can find more of her work at possiblygowrong.blogspot.com.Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-26511083990103834502010-12-30T15:14:00.001-08:002011-05-06T14:41:48.112-07:00Novel Continued...Ruby Leaves.<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QHsrM_Vb4tg/TcRrE-bYWeI/AAAAAAAAACw/TIPO4Vj8wbc/s1600/Map%2Bof%2BBritish%2BHonduras%2B1950s.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QHsrM_Vb4tg/TcRrE-bYWeI/AAAAAAAAACw/TIPO4Vj8wbc/s320/Map%2Bof%2BBritish%2BHonduras%2B1950s.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603721569577228770" /></a><br />Ruby leaves. Amelia sighs and looks in the fridge. She puts a piece of cheese inside two dry pieces of bread. She leaves her shoes at the bottom of the staircase and goes up. Cup of tea in one hand. Dry sandwich in the other.<br /><br />The shoes at the bottom of the stairs was an old family habit. Ruby used to make everyone take off their shoes when they entered. No, not as any sort of spiritual thing. She just didn’t want dirt “tracking her house.” So, almost thirty years later, it was ingrained in Amelia. Ingrained or stained? <br /><br />She’d never tell Ruby, at Amelia’s home in California, she also makes visitors take off their shoes before entering. Amelia’s greatest fear I that somewhere deep inside, she may have no choice but to be like her mother.<br /><br />The home is weathered, but solid. Brick and mortar with bay windows all around. As expected, spotless. In fact, from its neurotic cleanliness to the cases of intricately arranged insects on the wall, the house has a kind of sinister dark side of Disney World feel. <br /><br />Amelia looks in her parents’ bedroom. Antique furniture that wasn’t when her folks bought it. Daddy’s old dresser. She runs her fingers lovingly across the top. And for her trouble, gets…a deep splinter cut. Blood spurts from it. So much for warm fuzzy memories.<br /><br />She hears something that sounds like a body being dragged across the downstairs floor. Look out. It’s Cleveland dragging her suitcases from the kitchen. His cat, Golddust, walks in between his feet. The feline doges his walk with grace and a lack of concern for safety. Amelia laughs as Kelly ignores Golddust with studied practice.<br /><br />“You can leave those. I’ll get em,” says Amelia. “I’m not going anywhere soon.”<br /><br />Cleveland smiles a crafty smile and tosses her hat.<br /><br />“Oh yes, you are?”<br /><br />Before Amelia knows it, she and Cleveland are exiting her rented car taxi at the city’s police car impound lot. The lot spreads for miles, a fact that amazes Amelia. <br /><br />Who would guess that that many scofflaws existed within such a small county? Or that the county would have such a vast property simply covered with cars. <br /><br />You’d think they’d build a multilevel garage and use the rest of the property for something much less intrusive to one’s eyes than cars that ranged from dented violet Corvettes to burnt out burnt orange Hundi’s.Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-18957753194363676372010-12-30T15:14:00.000-08:002010-12-30T15:16:36.003-08:00Novel Continued...Ruby Leaves.Ruby leaves. Amelia sighs and looks in the fridge. She puts a piece of cheese inside two dry pieces of bread. She leaves her shoes at the bottom of the staircase and goes up. Cup of tea in one hand. Dry sandwich in the other.<br /><br />The shoes at the bottom of the stairs was an old family habit. Ruby used to make everyone take off their shoes when they entered. No, not as any sort of spiritual thing. She just didn’t want dirt “tracking her house.” So, almost thirty years later, it was ingrained in Amelia. Ingrained or stained? <br /><br />She’d never tell Ruby, at Amelia’s home in California, she also makes visitors take off their shoes before entering. Amelia’s greatest fear I that somewhere deep inside, she may have no choice but to be like her mother.<br /><br />The home is weathered, but solid. Brick and mortar with bay windows all around. As expected, spotless. In fact, from its neurotic cleanliness to the cases of intricately arranged insects on the wall, the house has a kind of sinister dark side of Disney World feel. <br /><br />Amelia looks in her parents’ bedroom. Antique furniture that wasn’t when her folks bought it. Daddy’s old dresser. She runs her fingers lovingly across the top. And for her trouble, gets…a deep splinter cut. Blood spurts from it. So much for warm fuzzy memories.<br /><br />She hears something that sounds like a body being dragged across the downstairs floor. Look out. It’s Cleveland dragging her suitcases from the kitchen. His cat, Golddust, walks in between his feet. The feline doges his walk with grace and a lack of concern for safety. Amelia laughs as Kelly ignores Golddust with studied practice.<br /><br />“You can leave those. I’ll get em,” says Amelia. “I’m not going anywhere soon.”<br /><br />Cleveland smiles a crafty smile and tosses her hat.<br /><br />“Oh yes, you are?”<br /><br />Before Amelia knows it, she and Cleveland are exiting her rented car taxi at the city’s police car impound lot. The lot spreads for miles, a fact that amazes Amelia. <br /><br />Who would guess that that many scofflaws existed within such a small county? Or that the county would have such a vast property simply covered with cars. <br /><br />You’d think they’d build a multilevel garage and use the rest of the property for something much less intrusive to one’s eyes than cars that ranged from dented violet Corvettes to burnt out burnt orange Hundi’s.Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-87630992508203863322010-10-23T08:10:00.000-07:002010-10-23T08:13:07.835-07:00Serialized Novel, Part 7Amelia walks into the living room. Looks at the family photos in the bookcase. Notices one particular solid brass frame with a photo of a woman in it. Carries it back to the kitchen.<br /><br />‘Who’s this in this frame,” asks Amelia.<br /><br />“It’s your cousin, Idolly.”<br />Amelia’s face darkens discernibly.<br /><br />“This is the frame I sent to Daddy’s hospital room. With my photo in it.”<br /><br />Ruby doesn’t even bother to look up.<br /><br />“The frame you sent was too good for County General Hospital,” says Ruby. <br /> “I switched it and gave him an old one. Somebody woulda’ stole your frame.”<br /><br />“Apparently somebody did.”<br /><br />Home five minutes and Ruby’s pulling at her nerves.<br /><br />But, Ruby’s already dismissed Amelia’s feelings about her father. Amelia wants to dismiss Ruby.<br /><br />“Aren’t you on your way to the store?” asks Amelia sweetly.<br /><br />“Oh yes, the commuters will be coming soon. And those construction guys will be wanting some fresh coffee.”<br /><br />Ruby notices a pea-sized drop of tea spilt on the table. She rushes to put a saucer under Amelia’s cup before she dares to commit another household felony.<br /><br />“Mom, that 7-11 those guys are building wants to put you out of business.”<br /><br />But, Ruby knows best and would never second guess herself, even in the face of blatant business strategy.<br /><br />“They pay good money for hot coffee.”<br /><br />“And one of them whistled at me.”<br /><br />“That’s why I always tell you girls to wear a girdle.”Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-13082790262668969522010-10-07T10:50:00.000-07:002010-10-07T10:53:25.176-07:00Serialized Novel, Part 6When Ruby met Henry, he had money saved in one hand and the keys to a brand new Chevy Impala in the other. A lot of money. A lot of car. He had worked the railroads since he was 13 and had saved most of it. When he and Ruby married, he started working in a restaurant. Then opened his own little café.<br /><br />Cooking was his life. It was also his death. The type of metals used in pots in those days had a corrosive effect on Henry’s brain. Over time. Binswanger’s Disease, named after Leonard Binswanger. Why would someone take so much pride in discovering a disease that they’d name it after them. <br /><br />Binswanger’s gradually dissolved the seal around one’s brain. And with no protective coating, anything could happen. Anything did to Henry. For two years. And then he died.<br /><br />And with him, a large part of Cleveland died. He tried to get over it. He tried to hide it. He was unsuccessful in both attempts. Time would prove the final arbiter. But, getting through the time was a type of hell for Cleveland that no one could ever guess the depth of.<br /><br />He tries to shake it off by teasing Ruby.<br /><br />“Now, we can have the funeral,” says Cleveland. “Folks sa been asking.”<br /><br />Amelia’s surprised. “No one’s planned the funeral yet?”<br /><br />“Mom won’t talk about it?” explains Cleveland.<br /><br />Amelia jumps to an assumption. Death is always hard for those closest. Well, at least the funeral was something Amelia could handle. In fact, she felt glad to be able to offer her services in some way.<br /><br />“I’ll take care of the arrangements, Mom. Just pick a day,” says Amelia.<br /><br />“A day, a day mom?” teases Cleveland. “Hey sis, cool hair?”<br /><br />Cleveland leaves before Ruby answers. A sure sign that Ruby’s response was not going to please Amelia. His footsteps fade up the stairs.<br /><br />Ruby’s tone was light. Not something Amelia was used to. Ruby and light? An inherent contradiction that immediately made Amelia suspect.<br /><br />“Your father ain’t been dead that long.” Strange how the way she said it came out sounding just the opposite. As if Henry had been dead in her mind, in her heart, so to speak, for longer than forever. <br /><br />“Yeah, but I thought it had to be taken care of fairly soon…” says Amelia, “Before the body, you know…”<br /><br />Ruby puts her jacket on. Seems more absorbed by the process of buttoning than in the subject of her husband’s death.<br /><br />“What?” asks Ruby, “Wanders off and gets lost?” <br /><br />Amelia just looks at her. Not understanding her mom’s casual attitude towards the death of her husband.<br /><br />“He used to do that when he was alive,” continues Ruby, barely hiding her contempt, “the last few years before he went to the hospital. Wander off and get lost. And some kid would find him a block from him and bring him home.”<br /><br />“The disease did that?” asks Amelia.<br /><br />The water starts to boil. Ruby and Amelia bump into each other trying to turn it off. Even that accidental brush makes Ruby shy away. It made Amelia wonder how Ruby ever let Henry get close enough to her to have children. Not a thought she wanted to dwell on long.<br /><br />Amelia takes down a cup from the cupboard. Ruby switches it for an older, bulkier one.<br /><br />“This way, you don’t waste the teabag,” explains Ruby, as if she wasn’t explaining it for the millionth time to someone who could care less.Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-65445704464619819892010-09-26T12:25:00.000-07:002010-09-26T12:28:27.455-07:00New Novel, 4th SectionYoung Amelia’s on a Greyhound. Looking out the window and seeing nothing.<br />The bus gets emptier and emptier and it passes through manicured Northern Massachusetts…<br /><br />Through smoky industrial founding father type towns…<br /><br />Through others dank, lifelife, unidentified by droopy signs…<br /><br />Through coastal areas helmed in by fog…<br /><br />Through Narragansett, Rhode Island…<br /><br />And finally…Amelia’s hometown, Millerstown.<br /><br />The Millerstown of fifteen years past is a healthy working class, fishing mill community. Amelia drags her hand me down suitcase off the bus. The Millerstown Café and Sundries store demands a once over. Hmmm. A “Closed” sign is in the window.<br /><br />She looks towards the docks. A few catch-the-dawn fisherman stand planted to the wood railing, their lines adrift in the waves 30 feet below. Some look as if they’d like to be with their bait six feet under. She starts to trudge down a lane, past five newly-planted elm trees. At the end sits a small split-level, Cape Cod style home.<br /><br />Despite the newly-birthed trees, the home feels like death has taken up residence.<br /><br />“Hey, it’s sis!” <br /><br />The entrance of her brother, Cleveland, sweeps Amelia back from her teens, back to the present. The 17-year-old swings into the room. He’s slim, energetic, good-looking in a casual, unconscious way. Even in the plaid robe and bare feet he now sports, he’s teenage hip.<br /><br />They hug. This time, it’s genuine on both sides.<br /><br />“Cleveland, your feet’ll get cold,” interrupts Ruby, jealous of their friendship. <br /><br />Cleveland waves off the comment. Turns back to Amelia.<br /><br />“Shoulda’ known you’d show up? Always doing the right thing?”<br /><br />Cleveland has a habit of ending every sentence like it’s a question. It sends Amelia into a playful mode.<br /><br />“You look good. Must have some young hussy looking out for you,” she teases.<br /><br />“Always, always, When’d you get here?” asks Cleveland.<br /><br />“I planned for midnight. Just a lot of delays. Fog. Finally flew into Providence around four this morning.”<br /><br />Ruby’s less than not interested. “I got to get to the store. You want anything to eat, Cleveland? I can make something before I leave.”<br /><br />“You can make something for me,” says Amelia.<br /><br />“You’re a grown woman. You can take care of yourself.”<br /><br />It was always like this with Ruby. Not only didn’t she understand affection. Not only would she never be able to give it, accept it or fake it in this lifetime or the next. But, the site of it between others seemed like such a threat to the essential nature of her being, that she went out of her way to try to stifle affection in others.<br />O<br />h wait, she did seem to warm to it in her “stories”, the ones that repeat forever on TVLand. Maybe she accepted what she knew she could never control. Or perhaps because that was the past. That was then. This is too much of now.<br /><br />Amelia opens the top of Cleveland’s robe a smidge. Picks at the hair on his chest.<br /><br />“As if this ain’t grown man hair growing up under here,” retorts Amelia. And to herself. “Not again. I’m going to enjoy seeing my baby brother. Not even my mom’s gonna kill this moment.”<br /><br />Cleveland starts picking at the hair on her head. Soon, they’re both slap-boxing playfully.<br /><br />“Don’t rough house in my kitchen,” admonishes Ruby. Cleveland gives in with a wry smile and a gesture of hopelessness. Hopelessness? Another house characteristic.<br /><br />“Ok, it’s starting,” says Cleveland. “Going to get dressed?”<br /><br />“I’ll be here, least till Daddy’s funeral,” says Amelia.<br /><br />That casts Cleveland into a kind of coma-recovery mode. For her brother, that happened all too frequently, she was soon to discovery. His eyes take on a far away aura. And pretty soon, it’s like only his body is in the room. Spirit? Essence? <br /><br />A search through the entire Thomas Brothers wouldn’t fine them.<br /><br />Usually when this happened, those around him would start to fidget in discomfort. <br /><br />Gradually, they’d drift off one by one, concerned that they would think ill of him, but not finding any other choice. What they didn’t know was that when Cleveland emerged from these surprise attacks, he had no idea where he was or who he was talking to. <br /><br />Cleveland never questioned the source of location of his reverie. <br />All he knew was that even though the thought of his father might have initiated these episodes, his father was not in them. As far as Cleveland knew. For not only did he have no memory of those he spoke to before the attack. He had no memory of what happened during those attacks.<br /><br />But, except for the faint inhibition within the pit of his stomach, Cleveland suffered no ill effects. And after watching his dad shrivel up and die after two years, Cleveland felt a slight discomfort was nothing. <br /><br />No one knew what had been wrong with Henry, their father. At least not until his death. The symptons seemed similar to Alzheimer’s. And because that was untreatable, no one looked any further. <br /><br />Oh yes, doctors recommended cat scans. But, Henry came from a generation in which men didn’t go to hospitals unless they had bullet wounds or their wives were having babies. And maybe not even then. So, a cat scan was not an option. As for Ruby, she came from a generation in which you might undermind and hate your husband, but you certainly didn’t second guess them.<br /><br />It took dying to finally figure out what had happened to Henry. Being the good husband. Being the good provider. Being the good dad. He died from a disease that a dead beat dad would never have caught.Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5040386874427522592.post-16537093749089883682010-09-18T08:52:00.000-07:002010-09-18T08:57:12.035-07:00New Novel, 3rd SectionA time so far away in time, yet always on the surface of Amelia’s memory.<br /><br />She was only 13 and trying hard. Trying hard to fit in at a girl’s New England private school that didn’t usually let in people like her, people from mill fishing towns. Already she stood out. Here she was staying at the school through the Thanksgiving holiday because she couldn’t afford to go home. Sure there were a number of other girls doing the same. But, not because they didn’t have the money. Hell, there was more than enough money in the lives of these young women.<br /><br />The family of Laurel Miranda had so much money that when she was sent from 90210 to this Western Massachusetts prep school, her parents transported her horses with her. Laurel’s father was a power player in the telecommunications world. Shipping and stabling a few horses for his daughter’s pleasure was nothing. But, actually seeing her and spending time with her over the holidays, now that was a bit much to ask.<br /><br />So, when Laurel came towards Amelia on the lacrosse field…yes, lacrosse…Amelia knew she shouldn’t underestimate her. Laurel’s chance to release her frustration could mean a point in her favor, and against that of Amelia’s team.<br /><br />Ouch!!! ABM!!! These bodies slam together. Sticks cross like lances.<br /><br />Ten girls, 13 to 15 years of age, mud-stained uniforms, scowls to outmatch Wayne Gretsky.<br /><br />“Ger her! Don’t let Amelia get inside!” shouts one teenager.<br /><br />“I’m trying!,” huffs a second.<br /><br />A third opponent, running and breathing hard, gasps out “Catch her. She’s just a sophomore.”<br /><br />The amused coach, Ms. Burns, pipes in from off-field. “Girls, remember. Northfield Academy was founded on religion, not homicide.”<br /><br />The 13-year-old Amelia makes a sudden break, pigtails flying. Or so she thinks. Oomph!! Laurel, Amelia’s roommate, plows Amelia into the ground. Laurel smiles her regrets…and sweeps the ball away.<br /><br />Amelia fall to the ground. Clutches her stomach. Sudden agony. She looks surprised. The impact wasn’t that bad.<br />Suddenly, her vision clouds. The surrounding sounds disintegrate to a mesh of whispers. She feels something malevolent lurking. She strains to see. And still, a shrouded world. Oddly, she feels no fear. Just an overwhelming sadness.<br />A teammates’ admonishment brings her back.<br /><br />“Amelia, get up!!!”<br /><br />Clarity returns. Its as if time passed for her and no one else. She nervously laughs it off and charges after Laurel.<br /><br />“Ok, Roomie, I’m warning you. I’m gonna’ sweep your feet,” laughs Amelia. They’re the best of friends.<br /><br />"You can’t do that!!! Against the rules,” says Laurel indignantly.<br /><br />“That’s why I’m telling you first. Perpetuating, girl,” says Amelia as she makes her move, trying to trip up Laurel. Laurel dodges the first attempt. Not the second. No such luck.<br /><br />Splat!!<br /><br />Laurel’s a lame duck in the mud. Amelia races back to her goal as her teammates hold off opposing forces. Amelia dashes back to assist Laurel. Laurel sits laughing in the mud. Amelia pulls her up. Laurel surrepticiously drops some mud down Amelia’s back and givers her a friendly pat on the back. Amelia jumps.<br /><br />“Aaah!!!” she cries.<br /><br />Ms Burns looks up. “Is something wrong, girls?”<br /><br />“Nothing. Nothing at all,” says Amelia with a bright, false smile. “Watch your back, roomie.”<br /><br />But, it’s Amelia who’s watching her back, wondering if her imagination was playing tricks. Or was it something or someone else?<br /><br />By the evening, Amelia has passed off the incident as something from her imagination. Nothing to interfare with the fun of making hot cross buns with the other girls.<br /><br />“Staying at school for Thanksgiving was the best decision,” laughs Laurel.<br /><br />”Me too,” says Amelia. “Finally learning to cook.” The other girls look at her strange. “You don’t cook at home,” says one.<br /><br />Amelia tells the truth without thinking. “Uh uh. My mom will cook turkey her way, which I love. But, if I ask her how to cook something, my daddy puts in his two cents. Then, they start fighting. And I never get to cook. Last Thanksgiving, my parents got so mad, dad threw the turkey in the dumpster.”<br /><br />She looks up to see faces more shocked than she’d expected. Not at her story, but at her unusual expressiveness. She plays it off.<br /><br />“Boy, that was one fowl Thanksgiving,” says Amelia. The other girls still aren’t sure how to react. Amelia flashes her most convincing smile. “A joke, girls. Come on.”<br /><br />The other girls chill. But, Laurel’s concerned look says she knows otherwise.<br /><br />“What time is it?” asks Amelia.<br /><br />“Why?” asks Laurel.<br /><br />“Girl, would you just tell me the time fore I give you five across the eyes,” laughs Amelia.<br /><br />Laurel adapts a long-suffering “how long oh Lord” look.”<br /><br />“About eight-thirty,’ says Laurel.<br /><br />“I gotta call home before it gets too late,” says Amelia.<br /><br />Amelia walks through the old-mansion-turned down house. Through the windows she psses…spacious grounds and turn of the century mansions. Tall, Methuselah trees. And in the distance, the Connecticut River, and the dim lights of 18th Century road lanterns. If any setting could bespeak tradition, wealth and family values, Northfield Academy for Girls would be it.<br /><br />Taking two steps at a time, she jaunts up to the second floor hallway payphone. It was a vintage antique payphone. All mahogany with stained glass windows. Amelia felt positively elegant whenever she used it even though waiting for the heavy ringed dial to wind back after each number took a patience users of 90s technology were unaccustomed. <br /><br />To Amelia, the sound engendered a contentedness within her. Rather it always did in the past. Not tonight.<br /><br />She dials. The squeaker voice of an operator pierces her ear.<br /><br />“Yes,” says Amelia. “This is a collect call from Amelia Chatman.”<br /><br />She waits, blowing air on the window, drawing faces in it. Muffled voices drift over the line.<br /><br />“Mom? Daddy?” Amelia’s tentative, wondering why someone would pick up the phone and not speak. Finally her mother breaks through in chilly tones.<br /><br />“Amelia, is that you?”<br /><br />“Mom, What’s wrong?”<br /><br />“Who called you? Who told you to call” She could almost see her mother’s glaring eyes sweeping the room for a culprit.<br />“I told you not to call her. She doesn’t need to come home.”<br /><br />Now, Amelia is freaking. The weirdness of the lacrosse field comes back to her. Is this what that meant? Did she ignore the warning that might have prepared her for this.<br /><br />“Mom nobody called me. What’s wrong?”<br /><br />Only silence. Amelia hears someone crying in the background. The crying generates an anxiety and fear in Amelia. Why doesn’t her mother simply tell her, she asks. Whenever it comes to Ruby, nothing was easy.<br /><br />“Mom!!! Where’s daddy? I want to talk to Daddy,” insists Amelia. “I want to talk to daddy.”<br /><br />But her mother had pulled rank and had had enough.<br /><br />“Your brother’s dead,” Ruby says flatly. “The funeral’s tomorrow. But, you don’t have to come. We can…”<br /><br />Ruby’s voice fades. Amelia stands in shock. The world, her world, fled.Skye Denthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08059659069342646690noreply@blogger.com0