Writers Starve in Hollywood?

I have sat and watched some movies in the comfort of my own home, stretched out in the La-Z-Boy with knitting in hand and pop at hand. I have even paid to see a couple of movies in the past few weeks. All of this has brought me to the same question – Why are writers starving in Hollywood? No, seriously.

I have been to several writers’ conferences and have heard about how difficult it is to get your movie made in Hollywood. Have these people not seen a movie recently?

I ask because I have, and I am here to tell you that 95% of them scored a 5 out of 5 on the Hoover Movie Suckage Scale. I will admit that I am not a professional movie critic, however, that doesn’t mean I have to smell crap to know what a pile of it looks like when I see it.

When it comes to movies, I am easy please. Write a story that has a beginning, a middle and an end. Don’t go off on some tangent that has nothing to do with the story line. Don’t feel like you have to insert a 20 minute chase scene to make the movie last more than 2 hours. Don’t think I won’t notice that giant explosions and special effects have been inserted to distract me from a crummy plot. Don’t forget what the movie is about. If is about crime fighting mice on the planet Zendar, I really don’t care if one of the mice thinks he is a cat. I really don’t want to spend 30 minutes exploring mouse angst about being a cat in a mouse world. That is another movie.

Unfortunately, the Hollywood studios continue to labor under the assumption that I, and people like me, just love the schlock they are producing.

The thing is, this complete misunderstanding of reality isn’t limited to movies. If it were, I probably wouldn’t be so jacked up about it. Lately, my disappointment is extending to yarn and notion vendors. Yarn manufacturers have so totally misread me and my likes.

According to them I love the following:

Buying a ball of yarn that is supposedly in a pull out skein, only to have the thing barf yarn all over me. Then when I find the end, it is at the center of a giant knot. So, I have to disentangle it, and wind the skein into a ball myself. Gee, I really don’t mind not saving myself all the fun of a hank of yarn that I have to wind myself. What was I thinking when I bought something that alleged to be a center pull ball?

In an effort to sell every last millimeter of yarn, the manufacturer will produce skeins with multiple knots per skein. I mean, no one notices there is a knot every 15 yards. A giganto, bulbous knot will not be noticeable in the bust of a sweater. Hey, got to buy me some more of that yarn because the company is so yarn efficient. Right.

Dye lots, schmye lots. It isn’t important to me when knitting a project that all skeins with the same dye lot be the same color. No. I need the unique striped effect to make me feel creative. I particularly enjoy knitting 85% of a sweater or sock and then have the last bit of yarn be so obviously a different color that I pee myself with delight.

I love challenging myself by knitting designs with splitting yarn. I especially enjoy the challenge of cutting yarn with blended fibers because the fibers haven’t been blended much at all, with each fiber going its separate way. Sometimes, one fiber is so committed to ending the relationship it will tear itself in two just to leave the skein.

Not setting the dye completely on a skein of yarn is fantabulous! I like getting Rip Roaring Red stained hands that won’t wash out with plain soap and water. I love that my wooden needles turn red, too. No one else will have that color of knitting needle in my group. Most of all, I love how the color bled onto the pair of socks I was knitting. Hoo boy! Those purple socks needed that hint of red dye that set like concrete with nothing more than vapor.

I love buying hand painted yarn that has bare, naked yarn patches that are not part of the colorway. I love how they just imbue my project with that homemade look. I prefer things look homemade to hand crafted because I am retro that way. I want people to think I don’t really care about the details of making a good hand-knitting garment.

Lastly, I really don’t give a crap about quality control in my handknit projects. No. I belong to the “if any thing is worth doing, it is worth doing half-assed so there is plenty of time to watch t.v. and drink beer” club. Since I don’t care what my end project looks like, I am not going to hold the raw materials to any higher standard.