Lauri Donahue at 2015-12-13 19:32:12:

Twas the night before Black List… ‘Twas the Night Before Black List and all through LA / Screenwriters were nervous – would this be their day? Their loglines were sharp and were polished with care / In hopes that St. Franklin would publish them there. The writers were ambien’d, snug in their beds / While visions of Oscar night danced in their heads. The pro wearing Prada, the hopeful in Gap / were lying in bed but they just couldn’t nap… ----------- ‘Cause up on the ‘Net there arose such a buzz / They grabbed for their smartphones to see what it was. On iPhones and Samsungs they tapped and they scrolled / Some muttered their prayers as they watched it unfold: “I’m sick of the ramen, I want to eat steak! / I’m tired of Mom’s basement – how ‘bout Silver Lake?” Assistants placed bets and PR folks planned spin / All Hollywood stopped as the numbers came in. One guy – Franklin Leonard – was man of the hour / His list (much like Schindler’s) has magical power. And after it’s done and the rankings are clear / Happy Blacklist to all – and good luck for next year. -- Lauri Donahue

Ally Yohn at 2015-12-13 22:52:33:

Twas the Night Before Black List and all through the LA Writers were nervous – could this help them get pay? Their loglines were sharp and polished with care In the hopes that St. Franklin soon would be there. The writers were ambien’d all snug in their beds While visions of having a sustainable future danced in their heads. The agent in Prada and the hopeful in Gap Had just settled their brains (with pot) for a long winter’s nap. Then from the gossip sites there arose crazed rumors: Only movies with warlocks were drawing consumers! The word on the street said a studio hoped to secure a script where Sinatra grew dope! The readers searched for great scripts, their work so slow, that they read deep into the night, hoping for dough. Most scripts were poorly written, with ideas so risky they knew the writers must consume only whiskey. As the sun rose, excitement levels soared, interns praying for the chance to storyboard. New actors and actresses, with much at stake, each hoping one of the scripts would be their big break. “What’s their problem, have I caused some great offense?” Tourists thought, “Angelenos are so intense! Look at them march by, checking phones and shaking have I missed some sign, is that the ground quaking?” News rumbled through the city, the list was live! Productivity in town took a massive dive as baristas,dog walkers, and waiters checked could one of these scripts be their newest project? Phones started ringing all over their town scads of meeting requests for writers newly renown. Agents and managers clapped their hands in glee, just one sale, then buy a home on Maui! Studio execs made assistants peruse the list, deciding which writers they should schmooze. Meetings to be made, bets soon to be hedged, pitches given, perhaps even options pledged. Screenwriters on the list walked around in shock- perhaps this made up for their not being jocks! Dreams of award shows, high school reunion acclaim, and coffee shop baristas remembering their name! Those not on the list went right back to work, disappointed about still being lowly mail clerks. Rewrites and edits awaited them now, would writing partnerships be a cash cow? In the Blacklist headquarters the staff relaxed each screenplay a winner, worthy of Imax! Tonight there would be parties, large celebrations with free flowing hors d'oeuvres and ice cold libations. Alone at his computer, the man of the hour, marveled at how he’d come to have such power! Request for scripts to read while on a vacation, had become big business, a true vocation. Franklin sat back and smiled with abundant cheer, their difficult decisions done for this year! He could be heard to exclaim to all in the trade, “Welcome to the Blacklist, and may your movies be made!” And yes, this is what I did this afternoon instead of working on my screenplay!

ShannonCorbeil at 2015-12-14 03:12:51:

“‘Twas the Night Before Black List and all through the LA / Writers were nervous – could this help them get pay?” “Their loglines were sharp and polished with care / In the hopes that St. Franklin soon would be there.” “The writers were ambien’d all snug in their beds / While visions of having a sustainable future danced in their heads.” “The agent in Prada and the hopeful in Gap / Had just settled their brains (with pot) for a long winter’s nap.” When, as if from a dream, there came inspiration. One writer sat up with a funny sensation. Away to her laptop she flew like The Flash. For suddenly she knew how she'd earn some quick cash! The glow from the screen was a welcoméd sight. "Screw the rumors," she murmured, "this can't hurt my eyes." She typed and she toiled, the words flowed like wine. She looked to the clock--would she make it in time? With all of the talent in this wild town, she knew she would def'nitely have to throw down. Too many to number, the hashtags were plenty! She thought to be safe, she'd pick ten--maybe twenty: #amwriting! #screenwriting! #movies! #endscene! #zerodraftthirty! #BlackList2015! "From Facebook to Twitter! From Tumblr to Vine! I'll network the shit out of e'ryone online!" For her work was not ready for laurels quite yet; she had to be prudent when hedging her bets. Tomorrow she'd celebrate twenty fifteen Black Listers...but perhaps with a poem, they'd next year call her 'sister'. Three months of hosting and two readers' notes? A dream for a script that could rock next year's boat! So she published her words and climbed back in bed, tucked the covers around her, and laid down her head. Her last thoughts before sleep were not of fortune nor glory; just heapings of thanks for Go Into The Story. -- As always, thanks for stoking my creative fires! --Shannon Corbeil