UNTITLED CHAD DARNELL PROJECT

Changes

Overhauling my site.  Come back soon.

It's Like Someone Turned My Life Into a Performance Art Piece

For Whatever Reason

I didn't get the job.

Do you feel like you're watching a character in a movie that for whatever reason, just can not seem to catch a break?

I mean, you kind of just have to laugh about this.  There's really nothing more that you can do.  I'm not tooting my own horn here, but you have one of the best extras casting directors in Los Angeles, nearly 18 years of experience, who wants to work on your show and you turn them down?  Part of me wants to move back to Atlanta and intern with the guy they hired because apparently he knows something I do not.

I'm just angry that it took them two weeks to let me know, when obviously they knew from the get-go they were going with someone else.

Whatever.  

 

 

 

 

Yeah.

No news.

Killing.  Me.

Watch This Space

24 has always been my lucky number.  As today is the 24th, I fully expect nothing but good things to happen.

That, and they have GOT TO HIRE A CASTING DIRECTOR TODAY!  The showrunner has been in Atlanta the past two days on a location scout and with TPTB.  Now that she is on a jet plane back to the 310, they are going to have to hire some empty spots.  And God knows, it has not been for lack of trying on my part.

I had a bizarre thing land in my lap that I can't talk about now, but trust me - it's mindblowingly awesome - which leads me all the more to believe that I will be in Atlanta in a few weeks casting, simply for the reason that I will probably be back in Los Angeles on the weekends. 

I'm up to rewrite a script being produced by an actress/ producer.  An actress/ producer I've been obsessed with for years.  I'm set to pitch with her in the next week.  The script has to be done in a very short period of time (before the show in Atlanta even starts shooting), and since I write fast, they want my take.  It's an interesting story.  But when Sheree told me who the star/ producer was, I fell on the ground.

So, say a prayer.  Light a candle.  Kill a chicken.  Whatever you have to do.  But I feel really, really great about being back in Atlanta soon.  I can't wait to get out of Los Angeles.

As soon as I get word, one way or the other, I'll post it.

Tamar Kaprelian

I love this chick. I can't wait to hear more of her music.

 

Still Waiting

You get to a point where you can't do anything but laugh.

It's been over a week and I still have no idea if I'm going to be casting in Atlanta or not.  The producers met with my dear friend Angela Barnes about working on the show as well and they are expecting to make the decision on her position in the next few days.  Her position is far more important than casting, so I'm hoping a) they hire her and b) they hire me.

I've been going into a trance looking at places to live in Atlanta on Craigslist.  I REALLY want this show.  I REALLY want to be back in Atlanta and get out of LA for a several months.  It's the perfect job. 

And really, my entire life is on hold until I hear.  I can't take another job until I hear, because who starts a job and then two days later says, "oops, sorry.  Moving to Atlanta."

It's driving me insane.

12 of 12 IV: June 2009 - Me

 

9:00 AM? ECT/ 6:00 AM? PCT

Parent's Van, Dunwoody, GA

At this point, I've had two hours sleep.  Spent the evening with my friends at Dad's Garage Theatre.  Went home, packed, tried to go to sleep and woke up at 5:00 AM ECT (2:00 AM PCT) to get ready and go with my parent's for a doctor's visit.

 

9:30 ECT? / 6:30 PCT

MARTA Station

On my way to the airport.

 

11:00 AM ECT / 8:00 PCT

US Airways D Concourse

And so began the day of Hell.  Arrive at the gate.  I think there were thirty seats in the waiting area and 20,000 people.  Half the seats were holding people's personal items.  One woman sighed and said, "do you want to sit?" while still snarling at me.  I smiled and said, "I'm fine.  I wouldn't want you to have to hold your newspaper and jacket."

The seat I picked on-line was 26F - the back corner because no one would be behind me and no one would make me move to go to the bathroom.  They called out over the speaker, "I need two people from row 26 to come to the desk."

As I stepped up, this child lunged in front of me and slammed her arms across the desk.  "I'm in row 26!" Her older sister stepped up and the attendant informed them they had just been upgraded to first class.  After he processed their ticket, I asked him if he still needed anyone and he said "no."

Ten minutes later, "Darnell, Chad Darnell, please come to the counter."  Hooray, I thought.

"Mr. Darnell, we need to reseat you for security reasons." The man standing next to me had paperwork and I saw the flash of a badge from his belt.  My seat was being taken for prisoner transport by a US Marshal.

And I was being reassigned to a middle seat.

I HATE this middle, because people hog the arm rests.  I REALLY HATE the aisle, because people constantly bump you throughout the entire flight.

Over the course of a half hour, I am re-sat four more times, eventually getting the aisle.

Because I was called one last time while they were boarding, there was no room in the overhead compartments.  So they "checked" my bag.  I thought as I handed it off, that would mean I would get it from a flight attendant.  NO.  I meant UNDER THE AIRPLANE. 

Keep in mind it takes LAX about an hour for baggage to come out.  I didn't take bags FOR THIS REASON.

Also keep in mind, the entire reason I was due back in LA was to do the VIP Pride event that evening.  A car was picking me up at 7:15.  My flight was due to land at 3:45.  I had a layover in Phoenix for an hour and a half.

SO.  I'm PISSED my bagged is now being checked, because it means I'm going to have to wait an hour, which will put me in the middle of LA Friday traffic.

On the plane, I fall asleep before the preflight take off.

I wake up a half hour later to the captain informing us, we have to go back and get more gas.  I look out the window and see, WE HAVEN'T TAKEN OFF.  He informs us we are being rerouted due to weather and we will now be arriving in Phoenix shortly after the time my connecting flight will be taking off.

At this point, I e-mail the church (the church was being honored at Pride) and inform them I may not make the event and they need to come up with a Plan B.

I then, spend the next four hours trying not to have a stroke.

 

2:00 PM CST / 12:00 PM PCT

Somewhere High Above America

I decide I need to drink, since I can't sleep, thanks to every single person slamming into me.  Oh, and the child in the next row over started screaming.

1:35 PM MST / 12:35 PCT

Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport - A Concourse

We land.  We have exactly FIVE minutes before the plane to LA takes off.  While I realize my bag won't make it, at least I can.  As soon as we got off, I see that the gate for LAX is A-1.

I am at A-26 - which is not only at the complete opposite end of the airport, but I swear it's a half mile run.

And I run.  Like the wind.  Like a bandit.  Like a demon.  This picture is actually an action shot.  There are other LA people running as well, but I'm in front of everyone.

I arrive (the first person from the flight) at A-1 to the gate attendant on the speaker saying, "if you are going to LA, again, the gate has been moved to A-26."

It was at this point, I hit the desk with both fists and screamed bloody murder, "YOU GOTTA BE F*CKING KIDDING ME!"  After this entire day, I was ready to throw my body out the glass window.

My LA track team piled up behind me and I screamed, "THEY F*CKING MOVED THE F*CKING GATE TO RIGHT NEXT TO WHERE WE WERE!!"

So we go running again.  It was like the storming of Normandy.  I thought there was no way we would make the flight.

But surprise, surprise... the flight had been moved to 2:15.

This would mean a) I would make the flight. b) I can go back to the Starbucks I passed twice. c) I can call the church and tell them I'll make the event.  d) I will arrive around 4:00 PM in LA.  e) IF my bag makes it, it will arrive about 5:00 PM at baggage. f) by the time I get to my car, get on the road and fight traffic to make it home, I'll be lucky if I have the time to shower.

 

3:30 PCT

Above Los Angeles

Making our final decent.

4:00 PM

LAX

And we wait.  My bag DID arrive about 45 minutes later and it was the last one to come out.  I wanted to scream.

I ran outside to see the bus for B-Lot pull away.  It took 25 minutes for the next one to arrive.  I contemplate jumping in front a car.

5:20 PM

B-Lot

I lost my car.  If I'm lying, I'm dying.  I spent ten minutes trying to find it.

 

6:00 PM

110 NORTH

Dear Atlanta:  THIS is what traffic looks like.  When you don't move for five minutes.

 

6:45 PM

My House

Miracles, upon miracles.  I made it home.  All I can think is "I'm going to fall asleep standing up."

 

8:30 PM

VIP Pride Event

The car picked me up at 7:15 and then we picked up Pauley.  It took us about a half hour to

This is Pauley with Chris Angel Murphy, one of the other honorees.

 

1:30 AM

Outside Fiesta

After we left, we ran into some of Pauley's friends at the Abbey and then we walked over to Fiesta, where we apparently spent four hours talking to people.  I realized when we arrived at Fiesta, I had left my ID in my pants (from running around at the airport) and in order to get me in, Pauley took my credit card with my picture and her iPhone, pulled up my IMDB page and said, "look, he cast this in 1992!"  The bouncer said, "that would make you 17, man.  Don't even try."  To which I said, "yeah.  If I started casting WHEN I WAS A FETUS."

He let us in.

It was the day from hell, but one of the best nights I've ever had in LA.

12 of 12 IV: June 2009

PLEASE list your day as first name - parenthesis - city - comma - state (or country) - end parenthesis. 

Once your day is complete and your links are set, please reply in comments in this order: Your name (City, State (or Country) VERY IMPORTANT!! Please be sure you leave the location!!

Please leave the PERMALINK - this is the link to your entry - not just a link to your website (so that when people go back to the page months later - they find the post).

Click HERE for the Entire 12 of 12 archive (January 2006-May 2009)

Tony (Hobart, Australia)

Patty (Manila, Philippines)

Pete (Lymington, UK)

Hanna (Germany)

Sabrina (Germany)

Britta (Cologne, Germany)

Stephen (Cambridge, UK)

Eliane (Glengarriff, Ireland)

Illi (Bavaria, Germany)

Gem (Barnsley, UK)

Michele (New York City, NY)

Jill (Glenwood, NY)

BU (Sterling, VA)

Sunny (Mountain Home, Arkansas)

Corky (Ninety Six, South Carolina)

Chris (Austin, Texas)

vuboq (Silver Spring, MD and Washington, DC)

Claudine (Portland, OR)

Cully (New York, NY)

Polt (Waynesboro, PA)

Liz (Washington, DC)

James (Gauzzel Manchester)

Julia (Burbank, CA)

Bill (Hollywood, CA)

Nick (Washington DC and Frederick MD)

Aimee (Atlanta, GA)

Tammy (Phoenix & Gilbert, Arizona)

RDOwens (Millville, NJ)

Paksen (Denver, CO)

Mike (Phoenix, Arizona)

Daniel (Phoenix, AZ)

David (New York City, NY)

Christina (Phoenix, AZ)

Bon (Hollywood, CA)

Xtina (Mesa and Gilbert, AZ)

Genevieve (Rosamond, Lancaster & Quartz Hill, CA)

Kimberly (Hollywood, CA)

Alanna (portland, OR)

Joni (Hapeville, GA)

KC (Los Angeles, CA)

Amanda (Los Angeles, CA)

Lauren (Los Angeles, CA)

Beth (New York, NY)

Hibe (Philadelphia, Harrisburg, and points in between)

TuxBaby (Amarillo, TX)

Matt (Seattle, WA)

Allison (Los Angeles, CA)

Sam E. (Greenvile, SC)

Jeffrey (Philadelphia, PA)

Julie (Alberta, Canada)

Scott from Scootersville (Seattle, WA)

Laurie (Boston, MA)

Helen (Dogeared) (London, UK)

Rob (Greenwood, SC)

Michelle (Beach Lake, PA)

Jenni (Knoxville, TN)

Sheryl (Auburn Hills, MI)

Bellacantare (Walnut Creek, CA)

Jenepel (London, UK)

Heather (Oakland to Long Beach, CA)

Gavin (San Francisco, Sonoma, Oakville, St. Helena, CA)

LINKS ARE UP TO DATE as of 1030PM- LET ME KNOW IF THERE ARE ANY MISSING OR INCORRECT

The Lottery

There must be something wrong with Typepad, because I'm missing posts that I KNOW I wrote and they aren't anywhere... drafts or posted.

I didn't win a bib in the NYC Marathon lottery that was announced today - thank God.  (I already have a bib from the Lance Armstrong Foundation and if I had won one today, I would have been out $100 from when I applied to be in it months ago.)

So for some reason, the post thanking everyone is missing.  Thank you so much to my cousin, Ashley Sargent; my former middle school and high school principal, Charles Meagher; my dear Dasha Snyder; my publisher, Jon Barrett; my peeps, Yvonne Sims, Nicole Nohr, Janis Jones and Lisa Fine and the lovely, Zen Gray.  And of course, she who shall not be named :)

Thank you all so much, and I apologize for not thanking you earlier!  I've already raised close to $1,800.

Every little bit helps and the proceeds go to benefit Livestrong.

Holding Pattern

So I have no news but hope to have more soon. 

xoxo

-C

What May Come

I guess I haven't had anything to update, ergo no entries to my blog. 

I can not accurately describe the frustration in my life right now as I sit and wait for an answer as to what I'm supposed to be doing.

There is ONE show that hinges everything for me and I've had many great and wonderful people fighting for me.  They have not filled their lower level writer position.  It's a 21 episode commitment from the network. 

My poor manager has done all that she can do.  Robert Rovner, Damon Lindelof, network, studio, production... they have all been pushing for the showrunner to read me. 

Well, she read me.  And she liked my script.  Liked my writing. 

That's good.  That's great.  But it's not a job.  And we're all hoping that she calls me in to meet next week.

And the network (I'm told) is pushing for me to get another job as well. 

So I'm grateful and very, very appreciative to everyone doing all they can do.

But I NEED A FREAKING (and that's not the word I want to use) JOB.  I've been unemployed for nearly six months, aside from some freelance writing.  And it's not for lack of looking.  I've applied for temping... I applied to work dispatch for a graveyard shift.

And then late last week, Cynthia Stillwell, who I worked with years ago - the woman who taught me everything I know about casting - called and we started talking going back to Atlanta and casting.

Atlanta has more jobs than they do crew members.  It's out there - and something we are actively talking about doing, but everything hinges on a phone call Monday.  Between everyone I know and everyone Cynthia knows, we could get at least one or two shows for the summer and fall.  In fact, the show in question, will be shooting in Atlanta.

If they hire another writer, then I'll be packing my bags.  I'll keep my place here and continue to pay rent, but I have to work.  And I made good money in casting.  I'll come back as needed and go from there.

It's so hard to hear people say, "you should stay.  You're too talented to leave."  Yes, but I have bills and I'm unemployed.  You have to go where the work is.

I need a change of pace and scenery.

That said, if I get the call Monday that a job as a writer or assisting opens, then I'm here I will take that job gladly and gratefully. 

I just can't take the unknown any longer.  I need to work.

"Here I Go, Again on My Own. Walking Down the Only Road I've Ever Known."

So this is going to be a big week.  One way or the other, inevitably, it's going to be a big week.

Since we last spoke, I wrote a pilot.  In 12 hours.  That's right, start to finish, I wrote a pilot.

You see, Thursday we learned that there is one last spot for a writer on a show about vampires, which is a show I was up for.  Friday was essentially a holiday, as everyone in Hollywood took off, since upfronts were over.  All the producers flew back to LA over the weekend.

So there is possibly a chance I might get a call to meet on Tuesday.

When Sheree called to tell me, she also said, "but the network doesn't think you can do character."  (Because the pilot script they read, THE HIVE, is more plot driven and the reason no one has a back story in the script other than the female lead is because everyone in the town is A CLONE.)

So I decided to whip out a pilot in a day.  It's called ZOMBIE TOWN.  And I love it.

I sent it to a few people whose notes I trust.  I've heard back from three people and they love it.  The rest of them I've not heard back from, so I'm hoping they are just enjoying their holiday and not because they hate it.

But I also realized, this will be the last script that I send out, prompting for notes.  I do trust my own instincts, and I think I've got a great script that is ready to hit the market, because as I've learned, they're just going to change everything about it anyways.

At 10:00 AM, the California Supreme Court will rule on Prop 8.

And I'm waiting on a job.  I'd of course love to get a writing job.  I would be ever so happy for an assistant job.  I would just be happy for a job.  Because I'm losing my mind at home.

So wish me luck.

-C

The Legend of Little Bunny Foo Foo

The past few weeks have sucked.  Who am I kidding?  The past six months have sucked.  But we can go further, because even though I was making really good money, the six months before that nearly drove me to my death.  And the six months before that I was unemployed.  Which takes us back to the writers' strike.  So then there was the summer I looked for a job. 

So basically, since the cancellation of CROSSING JORDAN, which was in the Spring of 2007 - the past two years of my life has sucked.  No good has come of the past two years of my life.

Unemployment.  Crazy people.  People who haven't paid me for services rendered.  Cancer.  Yeah.  That about covers it.

So I think I'm well within my right to say, "screw this writing thing."

There's the story of Little Bunny Foo Foo.  Little Bunny Foo Foo went hopping through the forest, scooping up the field mice and bashing them on the heads.  (Why are children's stories so violent?  Disgruntled writers, I guess.)

Down comes a fairy and says, "Little Bunny Foo Foo, I don't want to see you scooping up field mice and bashing them in the heads.  So I'm going to give you three more chances and then I'll pop your head off."

You might ask, why would a stupid fairy allow Bunny Foo Foo three more chances to murder innocent (albeit, disgusting) field mice?  Shouldn't the fairy just cut her loses and bring Bunny Foo Foo up on murder charges?  And since when in fairyland does three murders of field mice equal justice for the murder of Bunny Foo Foo?

I only bring this up because what is insanity?  The act of doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.

In Hollywood, we call this "pursuing a career in writing."

I quit casting in the Fall of 2005 after a minor nervous breakdown.  Casting was something I was very good at, but just because you are good at something does not mean that's what you are MEANT to do.  I always considered casting was preparing me for a career as a writer.  I mean, at the time, I was the ONLY PERSON in all of Hollywood who was working on as many television shows in production.  At one point I was casting 14 television shows and 5 feature films.

I figured up that I had read and cast over 1,300 hours of television.  It was hell on earth, but I met producers, writers... I was involved in every aspect of production and I had access to every single lot in Hollywood.

I wrote a pilot called MERCY (which was recently changed to THE HIVE, due to NBC picking up a pilot called MERCY).  I had an AMAZING year on CROSSING JORDAN.  Then I hit a lot of turbulence, but thanks to the support of Kathy McCormick, I wrote FAMOUS LAST WORDS, THE TELLING, LITTLE GREEN MEN, LITTLE DEATH, 12 EASY STEPS, and spent over a year developing THE BODY FARM with Sean Hayes' company, Hazy Mills.  And those are just the completed scripts, not counting the dozen others that were started or written for producers that never happened.

Scripts went out.  Heat was built, then turned cold.  Meetings were had, business cards were exchanged and nothing.

I acknowledge that many people would give limbs to have had meetings I've had.  But it's simply NOT enough.  It's like for an actor.  All I've been doing is auditioning.  It doesn't matter how many times you audition or who you meet.  What matters is BOOKING the job.

So I had had it.  I basically gave until summer for God or whoever to reveal what I was supposed to do.  I figured, by the time they announce the winners of the WB writers program.  If I hadn't sold a script or wasn't accepted into the program, then that was it for me.

But something crossed over in me last week and I was like, you know what, screw the deadline.  I'm done now.  I'm not waiting for five months.  I'm over this.  It's been nearly NINE years since I moved to LA to be a writer.  Five more months isn't going to make that much difference.

I've had projects that I've rewritten with directors that went no where.  I've had scripts I've talked about with directors who won't return my e-mails when I ask, "so what have you heard?"  I've written scripts for people who suddenly think I'm a screamer because I ask for my money that was promised to me.

And I'm done.  I'm done dealing with stupid people.

I thought this is what I was supposed to do.  But when you hope and wish and pray for NINE years for something to happen, at what point do you realize, this AIN'T happening.

I had great meetings last week, but because I'm not part of the WB or ABC writers' program, I stand a better chance of getting crowned Miss California than I do getting staffed.

Jon and Robert are now the showrunners of PRIVATE PRACTICE and Kathy is a consulting producer.  Shonda Rhimes had a new show that was expected to get picked up.  And Robert and Kathy were instrumental in getting me read by Shonda and Betsy.

But the show wasn't picked up.

So as I was driving yesterday to Java Detour, I had decided to have a conversation with God or whoever was taking his calls, since he clearly has not been returning ANY of messages.

And I kept saying over and over again, "I just need a sign that this is what I'm supposed to be doing, because I thought--"

My manager called my cell.  I nearly had a car accident as I screamed upward, "oh that's rich!"

Sheree was calling and I'm sure she did not expect the "I have no idea what I'm doing with my life and thinking of moving to San Francisco" conversation.  But she said, "look, you're still up for a few shows and you need to write your spec and you need to get a new pilot going so we can take it out after staffing."

I was really, really pissed off by this.  Because it was the SIGN received that I simply did not want.

I won't even go into the phone conversation that I had an hour later with someone close to me.  At that moment in time, I only had enough energy to hold myself together telling me what they thought I needed to do and asking a bunch of questions was the absolute last thing in the world I needed.  There is nothing you can say in a situation like that.  I am very much the kind of person that when I need your help, I will ask for it and please respect my privacy if I don't.  I didn't want people around me when I was going through surgery and chemo for those very reasons.

Driving home from Java Detour, I found the new pilot.  I called Catie and told her about it.  It's really good.  It has never been done before.  I called Sheree today and told her about and she flipped out.  Loves it.

I watched GLEE and realized I have to do a spec of that show for the programs.  It's a brilliant show.  Any writer choosing to spec a show that has humor and heart better have huge balls, especially when everyone is raving about it.  And I only have one.

But when I got home last night, I found an e-mail from a producer of what will be a huge hit show this fall.  I had e-mailed a friend of mine - who is a HUGE mega-producer - he has a hit show about an island and he just did a movie that was a remake of a science fiction television show... and asked him to e-mail and recommend me for the show.

As it turned out, the producer said that she would love to read my script and that I was highly recommended by my friend.  I e-mailed my friend and thanked him.

The bottomline is I have no idea what the hell I'm doing.

I went today and registered for a temp agency, but the entire time I was filling out the forms, something was telling me, "you're going to get a job in the next day or two.  This is really useless."  But I felt like I HAD to do something, because NOTHING was happening.

Even more sobering is when they look at your one-page resume and say, "you need to change this to add answering phones and filing."  Zen and I were talking about how if I had an actual resume with everything I've ever done, it would be longer than WAR AND PEACE.  Yet I need to highlight that I know how to answer a phone.

I've applied for over a hundred jobs.  I even applied to work as a manager in a cemetery in Colma, CA.  NO ONE is calling me back.

I had to take all these tests today with Excel and Word and you name it.  I was so frustrated I wanted to scream.  AND I caught grammatical errors on the test, which is BAD when I catch them.  Like, I thought they were trick questions.

I'm hoping that in the next few days I get a job working for a showrunner.  Apparently this one show has one spot to fill as a writer... and who knows what will happen there.  I just want to be back on a set and working with writers again.

But Hollywood... I'm giving you ONE LAST CHANCE.

GLEE