Father Geek here. A couple of weeks ago SCRUBBING BUBBLE, a long time contributer to the site, contacted me about doing an on-going series of articles following him through his attempts to "make it" in Hollywood... warts and all.

The value of such a series? Well, Harry and Father Geek get dozens of letters a day as well as occasional phone calls from young hopefulls asking advice on how they might break into Hollywood as writers, or directors, or actors, or producers, etc. Hopefully this series will answer some of those questions. In addition it is Father Geek's hope that you will find these raw, unedited firsthand experiences entertaining as well as educational. Our hero is going to find doors slammed in his face and others opened wide, but leading nowhere. He will encounter moments of triumph and tragedy as he struggles thru the maze that leads to his golden fleece, that dream career making movies.

So join us every Wednesday as we tag along with SCRUBBING BUBBLE thru the back alleys, sin dens, and studios of America's dream machine, laughing and maybe even crying with him as the weeks go by. This is your free ticket to take a trip onboard THE CRYSTAL SHIP. We're not sure where, or when our voyage will end, but rest assurred that there will be many interesting side trips along the way.

Father Geek,

Greetings and saultations. The Scrubbing Bubble here with the first column of what will now be called "The Crystal Ship". This first installment is a little long. I think it's necessary to introduce myself to the readers. That way I get rid of all the backstory the first time out and the rest of my postings can be strictly narrative driven. This is basically the set up and everything else will be pay off.

Let the adventure begin.

Feel free to leave a link to my e-mail in the article. Jdamen@aol.com

T H E C R Y S T A L S H I P

Introductions....

Most of you know me as The Scrubbing Bubble. My real name is Josh Boone. I'm 21. I've lived my entire life in Virginia Beach, VA. Since I was eight, I've wanted to make movies. Knate Gwaltney, my best friend since the day of my birth, and now a cameraman on MTV's "Jackass", has been my partner in this dream. As with many of you, the dream started with a video camera.

We never liked sports, we didn't care about baseball cards. Our life consisted of Spiderman comics and making movies on his parent's camcorder. Countless "Batman" movies, a rip-off of "Back To The Future" called "Time Trouble", a serial killer franchise called "Fear", with myself as the knife wielding lunatic, and many more. Making movies brought us happiness.

As we grew, our love for movies and our awareness that it was possible to make them for a living grew also. It was in tenth grade that I started writing scripts. Stuck in a private Christian school that actually had the audacity to force their students to sign pledges stating that they would not watch R-rated films, I began writing. It started out of boredom. Classes were not...intellectually stimulating. So I wrote.

It was an article for my city's newspaper that ended my stay in that legalistic setting. A science report on violence in films attracted a reporter who wrote a cover story on me. My argument against censorship and my defense of filmmakers and their vision got me in quite a bit of trouble. That I had used the R-rated "Taxi Driver" as my central focus got me removed. But it was the article that pissed them off. There I was on the front page of "The Daily Break" section of the Virginian Pilot beaming at the camera with a bulletin board covered with pictures of movie stars and movie memorabilia behind me. Who does the hell does this kid think he is? He actually said in the article that the Bible was far more violent and sexually suggestive than any film! The nerve of this kid! And he defends "The Last Temptation of Christ" too!

Remember where I live. Virginia Beach, VA. Home of CBN and Pat Robertson. Home of The 700 Club. Legalistic and insane Christians are everywhere. I'm a Christian. I always will be. I'm almost ashamed to say it sometimes because there are Christians, usually the ones in the papers, who give REAL Christians a bad name. These so called Christians use their beliefs to attack everyone else. They scream about hell and the evil of Hollywood and the need for censorship. I'm sure they would sing a different tune as soon as someone tried to censor the Bible. I smoke, I say "fuck" a lot, I love movies. I'm a regular guy. I believe in a woman's right to choose, I believe that it's time for Christians to stop preaching against homosexuality, I believe that you shouldn't force your beliefs on someone else's. I also believe that God is love. So right off the bat, don't lump me in with the rest of them.

Onwards.

So out of Christian school I landed exactly where I wanted to be. At a public high school with Knate. So we're together again, going to same school, and dreaming up the movies we want to make. Senior year in high school I completed my first real script. There were ones before that we attempted to shoot. But this was the first one that actually worked and showed some promise. "Samantha's Crying". With the free help of a local talent agency and two folks who worked with Dan Petrie Jr. on "Toy Soldiers" we cast actors, including ourselves, rented a digital camera, secured locations, etc. It was the best time of my life. I was acting, producing, and making a real movie. Knate was directing, all of our friends were helping out and once again we scored the front page of The Daily Break. We believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that we would finish the film, go to Sundance, and become superstars.

You can stop laughing now.

So we didn't finish the film. We shot about half of it and just burned out. We gave up. Doing everything ourselves, we just weren't turning out anything decent. How can I act when I'm thinking about a location I want to secure tomorrow? How can Knate direct when he's trying to memorize his lines and pick up the equipment? We were eighteen and just not ready. But it was the best learning experience I've had. The summer before I had attended the film program at the North Carolina School For The Arts. Note to those still in high school: Go to this program. It will change your life.

So high school ended, Knate and the rest of my friends headed off to college. Why didn't I go? I wanted to make films. I figued college was a waste of four years unless you were going to film school. Because of my time writing and making movies in high school, I didn't have the grades to make it into any of the places I wanted to go. But I wasn't going to let this stop me.

So I wrote my ass of and started sending shit everywhere. And lo and behold, Hollywood called back. In just a few months I had an agent, a producer, and meetings set up in LA. WIth just a fax machine, I had gotten Rick Nicita, a huge agent over at CAA, interested in a script I had written for Jeff Bridges. I was scheduled to meet with Columbia-TriStar about a job being staffed on Dawson's Creek. So I flew to LA, ate free luches, went to meetings, and did my best to be the guy I thought they wanted. I met with Disney about writing a rave script two years before "Go" and "Groove" ever went to theaters. Things were just magical. No, I didn't get the job writing for "Dawson's", no I didn't end up getting to write the rave script. But I had an agent and things were moving. And I was only nineteen.

The best thing about going to LA was that a producer named Fred Kramer put me up in his place and arranged for me to have dinner with Nick Fucking Kazan and his lovely wife Robin Swicord. Nick won the Oscar for writing "Reversal of Fortune". Robin wrote the great adaptation for "Little Women". These two people were the real deal. They had made their dreams come true. They were making movies. So we drive out to Santa Monica and get to their place. I look around. There's no mansion anywhere. No Rolls Royce in the driveway. Just two of the kindest and most humble people you'll ever meet. Raising their kids and writing great scripts. We had dinner and I learned more in that evening than I ever have since. Nick and Robin are my mentors now. When I have a problem or a question, I pick up the phone and call them.

So how is it, that a nineteen-year-old, with so much going for him, is now twenty-one and nothing's happened?

Because I wasn't ready. I spent the next two years writing. I stayed home in Va Beach and watched my parents divorce. I took acting classes. I saw a ton of movies. I studied filmmaking and directors and read every how to book known to man. I learned that the public library could function as a free college. I worked as a movie critic for a local magazine and a DVD reviewer for the newspaper. I grew up. I got some life experience under my belt. I tried to live as fully as possible so that when the time came I would be ready.

I was also scared shitless.

I'm in my comfort zone. I'm staying with my dad and stepmom. My girlfriend lives down the street. I have some great job perks like getting DVDs for free. I work part time at the greatest video store in the world. Why leave? Why head for uncertainty and doubt?

And then I wrote a script called "Six Months" that brought me to the next step. "Six Months" was the eighth or ninth script I had written. The rest were good. They showed that yes, I could write, but they weren't good enough to be films. I still hadn't broken through that wall you have to punch through so that you're living and breathing the story. With this script, I did.

"Six Months" is basically THE WAY WE WERE for my generation. It's about a war protest on a college campus. It's about an apathetic student who falls for a political activist. The catch? The war they are protesting is a civil war being fought on American soil. It's like the 60s all over again. Kids are cutting off their trigger fingers to avoid the draft.

When I finish it, something just feels different about this one. It just seems right. So I send it to Janna Gelfand, a producer who had liked "Samantha's Crying". She loves the script and we work through revisions together. She wants to try and set it up. She also hooks me up with a great lady, who is now my agent. So as of this writing, I have a producer and an agent working to set my script up. Things feel good.

The Naro Expanded Video Store. 12,000 films. 1200 DVDs. Every movie you could possibly want, American or foreign. I work there. Over Thanksgiving director Gary Fleder (Kiss The Girls, Things To Do In Denver When You're Dead) comes in. His folks live in the area and he grew up here. He is soft spoken and genuinely nice. We talk, he gives me his e-mail address. I e-mail him a few days later and his assisstant writes me and asks to have my producer send "Six Months" to them. Yay!

Greg Berlanti, this genius writer behind "The Broken Hearts Club" and one of the head honchos at Dawson's Creek, also agrees to read my spec. I reached him through e-mail. I told him that I loved the show and would love another opportunity to be staffed on it. So I send him my stuff. Yay!

And then Knate calls.

"Why the fuck are you still in Va Beach?"

Knate had lived in LA for the summer with his film school pals and he had gotten a kick ass job working on "Jackass". Now he's back at school in North Carolina and he's grilling me over the phone. I'm uncomfortable. This is a toucy subject. I had stated several dozen times that I was moving to LA. I made plans, saved up, and just got cold feet. He's speaking the truth. He's telling me what I already know. It's time to go. It's time to try and make things happen. His call changed my life.

So now I make plans again. I'll leave right after Christmas.

I weigh my pros and my cons.

Pros: I have a script attached to a real producer. She wants to see it made just as much as I do. I have an agent working with her. Gary Fleder has my script. Greg Berlanti has my script. And all of this was achieved from my home over my computer and fax machine. Knate and the whole NC film school crew will out in LA in June.

Cons: I have no job out there. I have no place to stay. I am scared. I will miss my family and my girlfriend.

My family is behind me. My girlfriend is behind me. They've always believed in me. My good friend Adam Levenberg, a student at USC, and someone who I believe will one day be a mega-producer, tells me he's going to Israel for Christmas until January 7th and I can crash at his place while I look for a job.

I make plans, I set up a going away party in hopes of cashing in on as many relatives as possible. Kidding.

The relatives come through quite well. I'll be leaving the East Coast with 800 bucks.

The day is coming fast. I leave December 26th.

My dad and I pack my truck the night before. Dad has been a huge help. I love him so much. He secured motels for me along the way, took me to AAA to get a Trip Tik (a MUST for one on the road). The next morning I wake up at 5:00. Dad takes me to breakfast at Hardee's. I didn't think I would be sad or emotional at all about leaving. Yeah, with my girlfriend it was emotional. But my folks? Your blood is your blood for life. It's not like you're not going to see them ever again. My mom cried for what seemed like forever when I hugged her goodbye the night before. I love her so much. But it wasn't a big deal. Girls always cry. But when my dad hugged me goodbye in the parking lot and was fighting back tears something broke inside of me. He got in his car, still trying not to cry and I saw this. It hurt so bad I didn't know what to do. I got into my truck and just cried. I don't know why. Going to LA, starting my life, it's a good thing. But hugging my dad goodbye broke my heart.

So I'm off across America towards LA. There's a huge ice storm on 40 so I duck down further to take 10. It will take me down through Georgia, Alabama, Louisiana, Texas, The Border, and onwards to The Crystal Ship. What the hell is The Crystal Ship?

Hollywood, boys and girls. Well, not exactly Hollywood. But everything that the movie business stands for. Jim Morrison might have been talking about something else, but to me it's always been a perfect metaphor for the business.

Fortune and glory, Dr. Jones. Fortune and glory.

So what is my mission? What am I trying to achieve?

I will move to LA. I will find a job. I will find a place. And then I will find a way to make movies. I want to do it all. Primarily, I'm a writer. That's my passion. But I also want to act and direct. And I'm going to do it. Nothing will stop me. It's this or flipping burgers. It's been my dream my entire life and dammnit, I'm going to make it happen.

Why? Why make movies? Why write scripts? Why?

Because it's who I am. It's my heart. Everything I want and everything I believe in is film. I believe in movies. I believe they can affect people like nothing else. And I have stories I have to tell. They are ripping at me, screaming to be let out. I want to share them with the entire world. I want to touch people's hearts. Fortune and glory wouldn't be bad either, but if you don't achieve it by giving something to others than it isn't worth shit. Movies give like no other art form. They aren't selfish. Movies are like communion. Everyone comes and takes part in it. Theaters are the best kind of church. They close their doors on no one. And every single person, no matter what race or creed, can be saved by watching that screen.

Call me naive, call me foolish, tell me that I'm living in la la land. I don't care. I will never let cynicism get the best of me. I've always had the belief of a child when it comes to my dreams. Hopefully I always will.

So dear readers, come with me. I will take you through it one week at a time. And I'm not giving up so it might be a long ride. I'll tell you everything. Every little detail. The good, the bad, and the ugly. And for those of you who want to make the same journey I'm making, perhaps this will help let you know what's in store for you. Never underestimate what you can do from your own home. You don't have to be in LA to get read or to make contacts. But to make it real, you have to move. Lay the groundwork from home, learn your craft as well as you can, meet some folks who will throw you a bone once you get out there, and then go.

So that's it. That's the backstory. That's the long exposition that opens up my narrative. So now let's get onto the meat of it.

The Drive Cross Country....

Day One. 760 miles. From Va Beach to Greenville, AL. Note on North Carolina. Lots of road kill. The entrails of dogs and other unknown smushed species go on for miles. Stuck in traffic in Atlanta, GA. Signs all around declare that THIS is the home of the Braves. Like I give a shit. Onwards. Night falls. The rain starts. I can barely see the road. Almost die twice. Sigh. Hotel 8:00. Make calls to the family. All were praying for me. Hit the sack at 9:30 after a thirty minute shower. My back is killing me. Wake up at 5:00 to start....

Day Two. 160 miles. My clutch starts giving me problems in Theodore, AL. Triple A, the angels that they are, pick me up and drag me ten miles back to Mobile. The Ford dealership insists that they can't fix the car until tomm. Delayed by a day. Dad is supportive and coerces mom into paying for the repair. You gotta love your folks. Get a hotel. Dad's business partner who lives nearby picks me up and takes me to Hooter's for lunch. The chicks in Mobile are stunning. Note to all following in my tracks. Stop in Mobile, go to Hooter's, tip big. Back at hotel. Trying to avoid the temptation of ordering movies off of pay per view. They have "Almost Famous". Damn them. Would love to watch it for my seventh time. Resist, resist, resist. Gas has already costed about a hundred bucks. Turn on the computer. Time to write. Might as well get some work done while I'm stuck here.

Day Three. 720 miles. The Ford is fine. No charge. For some reason the clutch wasn't engaging. They said it had fused to something. I have no idea what they're talking about, but it's fixed. Off again. Mississippi, Louisiana, and finally Texas. My favorite state so far. At first grass so green you feel like you're on an acid trip and then the trees die and everything looks yellow. Houston and San Antonia seem nice from the interstate. Listen to Sidney Lumet's "Making Movies" on audio. Great book. Will probably listen to it again tomorrow. Exhaustion is setting in. Finally end up in Kerrville. Very small. Motel 6 welcomes me. Long shower. The sun is just setting. My eyes are already heavy. Sit up and work some more on the new script. Long hours of driving have given me plenty of time to come up with stuff for it. This one has been in gestation for a while now. Finally working out the details. This one feels even more right than the last. Fall asleep early. So tired I don't even dream.

Day Four. 800 miles. Texas again. Then New Mexico. The desert is next. Huge clusters of rocks, mountains, signs warning me that dust storms are nearby, more roadkill. It goes on forever. The Continental Divide just isn't as dramatic as I had hoped. The tape player in my car eats cassette three of "Making Movies". DAMNIT!!! I listen to every Tori Amos album after that. Hey, no laughing. She is a genius and one day I will coerce studios into paying her ungodly amounts of money to score my films. McDonald's for lunch. A couple gas stops. End up in Tucson, AZ. Lots of guys around here like to walk around without shirts or shoes on. They also like to ask me what kind of engine I have in my truck. I don't know anything about cars. Not a thing. I can barely change a tire. Without Triple A I would be dead by now. Hit the sack at 9:30. Tomorrow I'll be in LA. YAY!

Day Five. 470 miles. Over mountains and finally Los Angeles. I'm here. The traffic is heavy. I miss the downtown area and head for Santa Monica where I'll be staying for a week. I'm greeted by a guy who lives across the hall from Levenberg. He's got the keys for me. Unpack some stuff and it's off to the movies to see THE GIFT. I have a review due tomm to send back to Va Beach via e-mail. I'm excited to be here and I want to explore but 75 bucks for the review is 75 bucks, you know? It's New Year's Eve. The start of a new year in a new city. The beginning of the rest of my life. I've taken the first step. Or the first seven. However you want to look at it. Priority number one for next week: Find A Job!

NEXT WEEK-

LOS ANGELES!!! FINDING A JOB!!! FINDING A PLACE TO LIVE!!!

TO BE CONTINUED!!!