I’ve loved movies since… forever.

I think it was The Petrified Forest that hooked me. Once I got a load of Bogie, saw him give Leslie Howard that thousand yard stare, the stare that said, I might shoot you just to watch you bleed, I was hooked. 

At around the same age (nine, ten), I also started banging out stories, sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, hunched over a tiny blue Olivetti. Stories about crooked lawyers and notorious gunmen and glass half-empty detectives who always solved the case but didn’t always get the girl.

So, screenwriting as a career was a no-brainer for me, right?

Not exactly.

I didn’t write my first screenplay until I was fifty.

Okay, so I’m not exactly a quick study.

But since then, I’ve pounded out a couple of dozen more, gotten three features made from screenplays I’ve written and optioned a handful of others.

I still love movies, still love writing them. The Coen Brothers kill me. Wes Anderson, too. And Lisa Cholodenko.

And yes, Bogie still gets to me. As do Christian Bale, Cate Blanchett and John Hawkes. And if Frances McDormand is in it?

Count me in.