The Apple Tablet: We Know What It Will Be, But This is What It Will Do

January 18th, 2010Blog0 comments

The reveal date of the worst-kept Apple secret ever has just been slated for Wednesday, January 27th. I’ve been watching this thing carefully; everyone from John Gruber to the New York Times has chimed in on what they think the Apple tablet/slate/thing will be and won’t be; the Chicago Sun-Times’ Andy Inhatko even famously and publicly purchased airfare to travel to San Francisco in anticipation of being physically present for an Apple announcement which, at the time, had not yet been announced.

Well now the word is out: On January 27th Apple is going to show its cards.

Through educated guesses and controlled leaks on Apple’s part, we all have a fair idea of what it’s going to be: A 10″ touch screen designed to play games, view movies/tv shows, and read books and magazines. It may have a front-facing camera for “Skype”-style video conferencing and “Photobooth” capabilities. I was recently reminded of how much fun Photobooth can be when our friend Deb took out her Macbook and had us snap pics with it in the lobby after seeing her show at South Coast Rep. Man that thing is fun! Now imagine yourself doing that with a lightweight tablet — plus being able to videoconference and watch TV with other people remotely, with your images inset in a little window in the video.

So we know this thing’s technical capabilities because the size and shape of the niche that it will fill are very clear. But from a content creator’s standpoint (i.e. writer/director/producers/talent), what kind of world will it create in the future?

I’ve been evangelizing this new world for a while now; I’m pretty excited about it. There are a few things I can say for sure: The tablet/slate/thing will take visual mediums (movies, TV, newspapers, magazines, books, games) and make them portable and personal like the iPod did with music. It will allow for wireless content delivery anywhere and at any time, updated constantly and precisely tailored to the end user’s demographic.

Time slots and the concept of “prime time” will go away. Everything will be on-demand. There will be two clear tiers for entertainment: Ad-supported (reruns, sports, etc..) and purchased “premium” content. Hyperlinking will be king. Meaning that if you see a video “ad” you should be able to tap on it and go to the product’s website; any object that you see on the screen should be tappable. You should be able to tap on any piece of clothing, product, or other movie/tv show/program that you see on the screen and go to a website to purchase it. The same goes for any song you hear, any individual person that you see, any vehicle, any location, any food. The war for Search is over (Google won), but there will be a new war over who can assemble the cleanest, most seamless, and most powerful back-end (invisible to the user) database of hyperlinks in the future.

Because of hyperlinking, as content creators what we want to put together are properties that are ecosystems of entertainment. This is going to sound weird coming from me, but High School Musical and Glee are very good examples. You have the TV shows and movies which serve as the spine of the property, and coming off of those spines are albums to buy, spinoff web series, clothing, live events, and individuals whose careers can grow into their own ecosystems. The LXD is another hot property to watch in the future. The goal is to find properties that can straddle multiple mediums and do great storytelling and showmanship in all of them.

Human beings evolved as omnivorous browsers that gather food through visual stimulation first. The tablet/slate/thing will be a window into the world outside that connects everyone to entertainment, news, knowledge, products, and other human beings seamlessly. It will define the 21st century in the way that cinema, radio, television, and the desktop computer defined the 20th century.

The best part: This won’t just be an American revolution — it will be a global one.

These days I’ve been counting my blessings often. I keep reminding myself of how lucky I am.

In terms of my interests and what fascinates me and energizes me, I was born at precisely the right time. I love technology, I love storytelling, I have the skills to pursue both and fuse them.

The world ahead is going to be exciting and turbulent, but above all, for good and ill, we’re going to be connected to it in ways that we never thought possible.

New York I Love You

January 16th, 2010Blog0 comments

I just spent a week wandering through everyone’s favorite ‘burg — the only place in America where you can get real bagels; the only place where you can hang out with friends in front of a dive bar and take in a knife fight: NEW YORK CITY.

I arrived on Tuesday. I usually hate flying but free WiFi on the plane kept my brain stimulated. A five hour flight gets reduced to nothing when you can browse car news and read rumors about the Apple tablet.

I did the usual routine — landed at JFK, took the LIRR into Penn Station. I checked into my hotel and lucked out with a corner room with an excellent view of 34th street. Unpacked my stuff, ironed my shirts, ate a huge goddam steak, went into a coma and slept for ten hours straight. I woke up with a meat hangover, but it was worth it.

This trip was all meetings. Meetings meetings meetings.

These days, the thing that knocks my socks off is that my job now consists of going into rooms and talking to people about stories. About Star Trek, about autism, about a Cambodian kid that’s trying real hard to grow up. About how “somebody’s gotta get beaten up!” About guys that make video games, about space ships, television, theater, movies, about the emerging electronic delivery systems for entertainment.

Holy shit, I’m a lucky guy.

It was 35 to 40 degrees Fahrenheit. A good switch up from the 70 degree days we’ve been having in LA. Seriously, I’m a little terrified about this fact.

I like cold weather. I can wear cooler outfits. I like scarves. I like suiting up to go out into the cold — it makes me feel like an astronaut.

The thing that I’ve always liked about NYC is that it’s all up in your grill, all the time. You experience a lot more eye contact with its denizens. I feel a lot more in touch with humanity.

Plus you all share common gripes: The cold, the late trains, the streets that smell like tinkle. It unifies you as a tribe. You don’t get that in LA unless there’s an earthquake.

I was sitting in the front room waiting to see my NY agents. Someone kept calling the front desk trying to get a hold of an agent for some reason. I overheard the deskers saying, “Sorry, I can’t connect you with anyone without a name. Goodbye.” The person called back again. “We have several people named Chris here,” the desker said, “Which one are you calling for?.. Well, I can’t connect you without a last name. Goodbye.” They were trying to guess an agent’s name in order to connect with someone. They called back again. “Sorry, you can’t speak to anyone without a name. GOODBYE.”

Why were they doing this? What purpose did this serve? Were they cold calling, trying to pitch something? Under what circumstances could this possibly ever work?

There’s the old joke (adage?): “How do you get to Carnegie Hall?.. PRACTICE!” But the reality is that once you’ve practiced to the furthest extent possible, Carnegie Hall will find a way to get to you.

Hey That Don’t Even Make Sense

January 8th, 2010Blog0 comments

This guy — one of the best things to ever come off of YouTube with his Star Wars Episode I review — has listened to the fans and is coming out with an Episode II: Attack of the Clones review.

I know this now: His review of Episode II is going to be a million times better than Episode II itself.

Helpfully Anthropomorphizing This City: Driving is simultaneously the best thing and the worst thing about LA. Even if I leave thirty minutes in advance to make a meeting that should be “right down the street”, I still might be late.

Yesterday I was stopped at a stoplight behind a humungous truck, and it was about five minutes before I realized that there was no one driving it — it was just parked in the street blocking the middle lane of traffic. It is episodes like these, and getting cut off by drivers or not being let into traffic that cause a lot of LA stress.

Something that helps me is to avoid getting mad at individual drivers and anthropomorphize Los Angeles as a whole gigantic entity instead.

Like when an Audi ignores a stop sign and cuts me off I’ll smile and shake my finger and say to myself, “All right LA: You got me that time. Good show.” Or when a tiny, shriveled old lady slows down all the traffic behind her by driving in both lanes simultaneously, I’ll say “Why you gotta be like that, LA?.. Aw, that’s just your way.” and leave it at that.

Yeah, it’s easier to deal with Los Angeles as a large, befuddled force of nature. You can’t really get mad at the wind.

Leaving the Day Job

January 6th, 2010Blog3 comments

A few years ago an agent gave me a really good piece of advice that I haven’t been able to put to use until now: “Don’t quit your day job until you’ve sold two things. Often a writer will sell one script and immediately quit his or her job; then he or she is stressed out trying to sell the next thing in order to survive, and that affects the writing.”

That’s good advice. So now it’s time for me to leave my job — a bittersweet moment because I’ve really loved working there.

Technology is another one of my primary interests, so being able to work in a technology/research environment was a real joy. It was challenging, always interesting, and provided a very good living. I loved the people — they’re incredible, and the environment was flexible and understanding towards my needs as a writer. Whenever I needed to leave for a week to travel, it was never an issue. The living that I earned at my job fueled my growth as a writer — it fed and nurtured me so I could get strong enough to leave the nest on my own. Plus it taught me a lot about technology issues which inevitably find their way into my writing.

I’m going to miss it. It’s going to be weird to not have a place to come to every day. I’m not worried about becoming unstructured — I’ve been disciplined as a writer for a long time. In terms of time, what this means is that I’ll have my weekends free and I’ll have more time to write and pursue other goals: Do more volunteer work, take acting and cooking classes, etc..

And I guess this is a natural evolution of things, but man — there’s something very comforting about being in an office. It’s sort of the state of 21st century man: We used to hang out on the savannah, then in caves, and now the office is the center of our existence. There’s safety there. Your co-workers are your clan.

And as safe as I’ve made this transition, by its nature the entire endeavor is a little unsafe. It’s risky. A little scary.

But that’s really interesting too. Being unsafe is dangerously cool, and it’s sexy to be able to say that you make your living off of your words. And safety is really nice, but sometimes safety isn’t the thing that a person needs the most.

I’ll Keep That In Mind

January 1st, 2010Blog0 comments

How to Take Criticism: Years ago I put together a writing guide for my old college theater company — a reference that they can use that remains consistent as membership turns over every year. This ensures that as new kids come in and old kids graduate, the wheel of writing doesn’t have to be re-invented all the time.

Every year around this time I look at the guide and make revisions/additions to it before they distribute it to incoming members. So this year I’m putting together a new section on how to take criticism. I think this is very important to new writers.

I understand how it can be tough for a young writer to take criticism; I was there myself. You were just born and your skin is still thin and tender. You need to learn how to be analytical instead of emotional, and you don’t have a completed body of work to bolster your confidence. People have yet to believe in you, and you have yet to believe in yourself. You’re still figuring out how to navigate.

So here’s the phrase that has always helped me take criticism, and still helps me to this day: I’ll keep that in mind.

Like everything good and noble that I’ve ever learned, this idea comes from a video game. Specifically, Deus Ex 2: Invisible War for the Xbox.

Deus Ex 2: Invisible War

I mentioned this before in a post a few years ago, but I’ll explain it again now. In Deus Ex 2, you cruise around pursuing your own agenda and blowing people away. As in any good video game, you must make choices. You can choose to side with Faction A or Faction B, and both factions will argue their cases for you in an almost lawyerly fashion.

For instance, Faction A might ask you to kill some dude and in exchange they’ll reward you with loot; meanwhile Faction B will ask you to save his life and will reward you with different and possibly more interesting loot. The agendas of Faction A and Faction B are always diametrically opposed, and the choice you make between the two leads to repercussions that advance the story.

Now here’s the brilliant part: When each faction spells out its case for you, your character’s pre-set response is always this: “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” Faction A: “Do this for us and we’ll reward you.” Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. Faction B: “No, don’t do what Faction A says — do this for us instead and we’ll reward you.” Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.

And when you make the actual choice between the two, it is always through a physical action in the real world. For instance, when the target that Faction A wants you to blow away (and Faction B wants you to save) is cowering in the corner, it’s up to you to either pull the trigger or not.

In other words, “I’ll keep that in mind” acknowledges that you’ve weighed their words — but in the end, we always make our choices with our actions in the real world: Pull the trigger or don’t. The choice is yours.

So using the phrase “I’ll keep that in mind” is a great way — perhaps the only effective way — to respond to criticism. It tells the critic that you’ve heard what they’ve had to say. You’ve got it, you’re processing it. Whether it’s of value or not will be disseminated later, but for now — thanks for all the fish.

This is an essential tool for a young writer since his/her natural response to criticism is usually “What?! You didn’t love my stuff?! FUCK YOU!” Then find the nearest corner and cry in it.

But it is absolutely essential to expose your work to criticism and process any feedback that you receive. It is impossible for your work to get better without getting that perspective, and it is impossible to become a better writer without doing so. And this goes for any activity of adulthood — not just writing.

So when someone gives you criticism — constructive or otherwise — saying “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind” immediately defuses a potentially heated situation for you and the critic. It takes the emotion out of the exchange immediately, which is vital since the process of criticism and rewriting must be done as unemotionally and analytically as possible. This doesn’t mean that it should happen dispassionately. You can still be passionate about rewriting — just be passionate like a scientist going about his/her work: Always marching forward and searching relentlessly for the truth.

“I’ll keep that in mind” removes all your emotional walls and gives you full access to someone else’s opinion. It gets rid of your egg shell. And once you’ve heard all they’ve had to say, it is always up to you to make the choice as to what to do. It’s still your work, your story — the choices are all up to you. There’s immense power in that. Invictus, motherfucker.

Now, how to know which things to fix and which to leave alone: That’s the subject of a whole other post. But being open to criticism — like a goddamn Vulcan — is one of the most powerful ways to grow as a writer.