Women in Hollywood: Clear Skies and Good Visibility

Ladies, start your engines. I’m calling bullshit on the myth that Hollywood discards women of a certain age – namely, the forty-plus set. Internet obsession over Renée Zellweger’s recent red carpet appearance and the endless dissection of her did-she-or-didn’t-she cosmetic surgery choices have dragged up another well-worn hot topic: The purported invisibility of women over 40 in Hollywood. What was once an upwardly trending reality is now nothing more than a myth used – both conveniently and erroneously – in bigger (and more important) discussions on feminist topics.  

It’s an easy fallback for folks to trot out the same old adage about women over 40 in Hollywood being dead, invisible, or [insert your own adjective here] in our (largely) ageist society. But it’s an assertion with little evidence to back it up these days and an old, misleading headline that needs to be retired.

In fact, the opposite is true. Women of a certain age aren't merely enjoying greater visibility on the screen – they’re dominating the field. What’s even better is that these demographic-defying actors come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and ethnicities. Some come au naturel with their marvelous character-defining lines and wrinkles intact, others nipped and tucked and plumped to varying degrees. But they’re here and ever-present – not some forgotten castoffs relegated to background scenes. These women are proving that they've got the acting chops and audience appeal to carry their own shows, and even those in supporting roles are increasingly being elevated with juicy material that renders them veritable scene stealers, in comedic and dramatic arenas alike.  

In ten minutes of free association, I was able to compile the following list of over seventy-five actresses, age 40 and above,  who are currently either headlining or featured as series regulars on TV shows within the past season or two: Juliana Margulies, Téa Leoni, Jessica Lange, Viola Davis, Kathy Bates, Jane Lynch, Bebe Neuwirth, Christine Baranski, Halle Berry, Linda Gray, Vera Farmiga, Margo Martindale, Octavia Spencer, Laurie Metcalf (headlining two shows), Judith Light, Susan Sullivan, Angela Bassett, CCH Pounder, Frances Conroy, Mariska Hartigay, Madeline Stowe, Julia Ormond, Gillian Anderson, Heather Locklear, Dame Maggie Smith, Famke Jensen, Melissa McCarthy, Swoosie Kurtz, Toni Collette, Tina Fey, Debra Messing, Alison Janney, Madeline Stowe, Wendi McLendon-Covey,  Jackie Weaver, Edie Falco, Holland Taylor, Robin Wright, Laura Linney, Laura Dern, Amy Brenneman, Betty White, Valerie Bertinelli, Fran Drescher, Jane Leeves, Wendie Malick, Connie Britton, Kate Burton, Bellamy Young, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Katey Sagal, Anna Gunn, Elizabeth McGovern, Linda Hunt, Jessica Walter, Patricia Heaton, Courtney Cox, Laura Leighton, Elisabeth Shue, Frances Fisher, Joan Cusack, Ann Dowd, Sherry Stringfield, Sophia Vergara, Julie Bowen, Susan Lucci, Rebecca Wisocky, Roselyn Sanchez, Mary McDonnell, Jada Pinkett-Smith, Stockard Channing, Marcia Gay Harden, Carrie Preston, Virginia Madsen, Mädchen Amick, Nancy Travis, Kate Walsh, Andrea Parker, Dee Wallace, Conchata Ferrell, Courtney Thorne-Smith , and Mimi Kennedy, with Alfre Woodard, Melissa Leo, and Carla Gugino slated to soon join them. And this was without trying; there are likely more.

Even vets like Shirley MacLaine, Linda Lavin, Jamie Lee Curtis, Tyne Daly, Dame Diana Rigg, Lili Taylor, Megan Mullally, Elizabeth Perkins, Margaret Colin, Veronica Cartwright, Mare Winningham, June Squibb, Carol Kane, Rita Moreno, Shohreh Aghdashloo, Morgan Fairchild, Patricia Kalember, Gail O’Grady, and the late Elizabeth Peña have shown up recently in meaty guest roles on hit TV shows.

Women in the 40+ demographic were also well-represented in the 2014-2015 pilot TV season, with Jamie Lee Curtis, Rosie Perez, Paget Brewster, Sharon Gless, Molly Shannon, Felicity Huffman, Tracy Ullman, Meg Ryan, Margaret Cho, Marcia Cross, Mary-Louise Parker, Patricia Wettig, and Ellen Burstyn (who’s nonetheless been a visible TV presence in adaptations of two V.C. Andrews’ novels for Lifetime) all attached to shows vying for slots on the network’s fall and midseason schedules.

Women are faring well in feature films as well, headlining blockbusters and dominating nominations throughout awards season. Sandra Bullock, Cate Blanchett, Jennifer Aniston, Cameron Diaz, Glenn Close, Dame Judi Dench, Dame Helen Mirren, Emma Thompson, Julia Roberts, Melissa McCarthy (again), Naomi Watts, Nicole Kidman, Tilda Swinton, Sigourney Weaver, Susan Sarandon, Diane Lane, Helena Bonham Carter, Julianne Moore, Marisa Tomei, Bette Midler, Jodie Foster, Sally Field, Diane Keaton, Joan Allen, Sela Ward, and, of course, Meryl Streep – all viable, all working.

Even in a traditionally male-oriented market like horror, women of a certain age are being afforded great reverence and opportunity. Lifetime’s recent adaptation of Stephen King’s novella BIG DRIVER featured a mostly female cast, all over the age of 40: Maria Bello (47), Joan Jett (56), Ann Dowd (58), and Olympia Dukakis (83). TALES OF POE, an anthology film by Bart Mastronardi and Alan Rowe Kelly, features genre vets Adrienne King, Amy Steel, Lesleh Donaldson, Desiree Gould, Debbie Rochon, and Caroline Williams – all actresses well into their 40s and 50s, some of whom have worked only intermittently since their earlier heydays. Or there’s THE SURVIVORS, a project currently in development by William Butler, which is slated to feature a veritable who’s who of final girls and femme fatales, all of whom are 40-plus.

In horror-themed series television, Ryan Murphy seems to be the pied piper of actresses over 40, creating attention-grabbing dream roles and single-handedly making last names like Lange and Bates water cooler-worthy topics of conversation. Arguably, THE WALKING DEAD’s most popular character right now is Carol Peletier, a strong, pragmatic zombie-survivalist who’s kicking ass and taking names – played by 49-year-old Melissa McBride. To note, THE WALKING DEAD is viewed by upwards of 15 million people per week.

But, admittedly, there are roles that women over the age of forty are routinely being locked out of: The ingénue. And that’s because (wait for it) they’re no longer ingénues. There’s a difference between realism and relevance that gets muddied when these misguided laments start. No, Goldie Hawn can’t pull off the ditzy ingénue anymore like she was lucky enough to do well into her early 40s in films like PROTOCOL, WILDCATS, and OVERBOARD. No filler or lifestyle lift can bring those offers back to her. Jamie Lee Curtis can’t likely perform a striptease like she did in TRUE LIES again and expect to achieve the same effect on audiences that she did at the age of 36. No amount of Activia or clean living is going to contradict that fact. But neither of these actors is less than because of those age-related realities, nor is either rendered less relevant because of them. As mentioned earlier, Curtis – at age 55 – was the lead in a CBS pilot this past year, and she remains attached to an ABC Family pilot. She guested on three episodes of FOX’s THE NEW GIRL in 2014, shot a film with George Lopez and Marisa Tomei, and showed up in a cameo role in the VERONICA MARS movie. She’s far from irrelevant.

Bringing it back full circle to the topic that started me down this road of thought, Ms. Zellweger is a seasoned Hollywood player, not a naïve ingénue. She knew exactly what she was doing when she stepped out onto that red carpet and what kind of reaction it would elicit when she did so, smiling and posing for photographers. Unless she's lived under a rock, she knew exactly the kind of scrutiny her appearance would bring and what kind of media trolls it would summon. Now she's getting more media attention and sympathy for the vitriol hurled by the Internet hobgoblins than she's had in years. Sorry, but she (and her publicist) knew exactly what they were doing and have played their hand exceptionally well. When was the last time Renée Zellweger was a top-trending topic anywhere?  PEOPLE, VANITY FAIR, THE HOLLYWOOD REPORTER...almost every major entertainment media outlet is spinning this in a Zellweger-positive direction. You couldn't buy this kind of publicity. In our celebrity-obsessed pop culture, the haters are going to hate anyway...at least exploit that hate and gain some seriously good PR for a talented actress who stepped out of the limelight a long time ago.

It's called a silver lining.

Mark my words: There’s a new movie or TV role announcement forthcoming that will welcome yet another actress of a certain age back into the fold. Bet on it. 

Books, Barbra, and Bad First Dates

For the second year, I volunteered to take the helm of the Horror Writers Association’s presence at BookExpo America (BEA). For those not in the publishing world, BEA is the country’s largest gathering of publishing professionals during which new titles are unveiled, authors meet their book-buying public (namely, librarians, educators, and retailers), and lots of business is done. This year’s event was again held in New York City at the Javits Center, a worthy venue in its size and capability to handle the thousands of attendees.

This year I decided to stay in the city for the duration. Last year, I schlepped back and forth on the Long Island Railroad, which proved disadvantageous once I realized all the free books I’d score. So this year I loaded up Alexis (Yes, my car has a name – get over it!) with the HWA’s snazzy new trade show display and enough provisions to get me through the week, programmed Penelope (Yes, my GPS also has a name – move along people!), and started off. Now, those who know me know that I’m somewhat of a homebody, so driving into Manhattan from the eastern end of Long Island isn’t exactly an everyday occurrence. So there was, admittedly, a bit of anxiety. Over what, I’m not exactly certain, but there’s something intimidating to the uninitiated about the volume and speed of traffic in New York City.

But by the Queens Midtown Tunnel, I was getting the hang of the whole thing and holding my own. As I approached my hotel (chosen because it’s the city’s only lodging with its own complimentary parking garage), I scanned the block trying to locate the entrance to the parking structure. As Penelope informed me that I had reached my destination, I still couldn’t see it and panic crept in. And I passed my hotel.

Deep breathing ensued as I waited patiently for Penelope to chime back in with her recalculated route. But Penelope apparently decided to cop an attitude with me at that most inopportune moment and gave me the silent treatment (despite loud, expletive-ridden protestations to the contrary from yours truly), leaving me to quickly figure out the alternate directional flow of the busy city streets and decipher on my own. Happily, I managed to make it around the damn block, unscathed, and located the hotel and Alexis’ sanctuary for the next few days.

Once I checked in, I lugged our trade show display over to the Javits. Although I had all day on Tuesday to set the booth up, my compulsion to be ahead of schedule compelled me to at least drop off the container housing our display. Although the display packs neatly into a barrel-shaped container on wheels, it weighed a bit more than I had anticipated and I was schwitzing by the time I made it the three blocks to the Javits.

Our booth was in an excellent location in the 2900 section, right next to our friends at the Mystery Writers of America. Pleased, I dropped the container off, briefly scouted around (marveling at the construction of a few very elaborate booths some of the larger publishing houses were in the process of putting up), and then headed back to the hotel. Mission accomplished, I spent a quiet night in the hotel with a Lean Cuisine and a copy of John R. Little’s DREAMS IN BLACK AND WHITE.

Tuesday arrived and it was time to bring the last few things for our display (postcards, signage, and a revolving postcard carousel) over to the convention hall. Let me just say that I absolutely love this event. From the start of the convention, there is a palpable buzz of excitement in the air – plus, being around all those books makes me positively giddy. I made quick work of setting up our booth; despite a daunting amount of bars and crossbeams and fabric panels and lights, the display is surprisingly easy to assemble. During the set-up, I met Margery and Steve Flax. Margery is the administrative manager for MWA – and, let me tell you, the woman is packing some serious energy! Organization seems to be her middle name, even if her military-like efficiency was a bit scary at first. Steve is her husband, a nice guy who clearly shares his wife’s love of all things mystery and literary. Together, they made quite the team and I immensely enjoyed getting to know them a little better as the week went on.

Booth assembled, I awaited the arrivals of my trusty booth volunteers. Martel Sardina, fresh in from the Midwest, arrived first. Martel is one of those rare young writers who take advantage of every opportunity and experience (HWA-sponsored and otherwise) presented her, investing in her career the time and money necessary to make lasting connections and to put herself in the path of people who could be useful further along on her career path. She impresses the hell out of me, plus I enjoyed her company during Stoker Weekend in Burbank last year so I was thrilled that she signed up to volunteer at BEA. Editor extraordinaire Ellen Datlow arrived a little later, wanting to scout out the booth’s location for opening day of the exhibition hall the following day. I may tease Ellen (mercilessly at times, I suspect) but I have a profound respect for the woman. She is, by and large, the preeminent speculative fiction editor of our time, having edited too many anthologies and magazines to count. Plus, she’s just a sweet lady, knows just about everybody it seems (although she’s surprisingly shy by her own admission), and pulls together some of the best genre anthologies out there.

Tuesday night was the much-ballyhooed keynote address by one Ms. Barbra Streisand, who apparently has so much passion for design that she penned a book – aptly titled MY PASSION FOR DESIGN. I wasn’t particularly interested in hearing her talk, but I was frightened that the Velvet Mafia might somehow get wind of my skipping out on La Streisand and promptly rescind my membership, taking back that marvelous toaster in the process. So Martel and I decided to attend the event, getting decent seats about twelve rows or so from the stage, off to the right side.

So, how was Barbra, you ask? Streisand is a queen – a bona fide, bow-before-me-and-kiss-my-ring queen. There really is no other way to say it, phrase it, or otherwise communicate the essence of this larger-than-life monarch of modern-day pop culture. Everything about her oozes royalty, from her mannerisms to her speech pattern, from the way others react to her to the way everything in her path is staged just so for her arrivals and departures. Not content to simply stand before a podium and say what she had to say about this “passion for design” of hers, La Streisand had to stage her remarks within the context of an interview. Oh, yes, a full-scale, armchair interview complete with foliage behind her and a coffee table in front of her. (You didn’t expect her to actually hold her own notepad scribbled with her remarks, now did you?) And La Streisand wouldn’t deem just any interviewer worthy of grilling her about paisley pillows and damask drapes – no, she had to have a celebrity interviewer, here in the form of Oprah BFF/gal pal Gayle King (who took that six degrees connection to the talk show queen and is still inexplicably running with it!).

So the publisher introduces King, who in turn introduces Streisand (even the publisher of her own book is too common to be up to the task of reading an introduction in Barbra’s eyes). We are then treated to a little over an hour of La Streisand fawning over her own impeccable sense of style and feigning outrage over the color orange. High point in the program came when La Streisand neatly dodged a full-on stroke when King questioned her about why the flowers outside her house had to match the color scheme within. “Because the exterior of your home should be an extension of the interior,” Babs responded, her disdain of King’s suburban commonness apparent in her condescension. Good stuff, indeed. Suffice to say that La Streisand is about as detached from the economic crisis that has gripped most of our nation, as she is oblivious to the fact that while she was waxing philosophical about the many shades of red, the roomful of professionals whose industry is under siege by runaway technology, a generational apathy toward reading, and a declining literacy rate in this country might not give a rat’s ass about how her preference for certain colors is psychologically linked to her allegedly poverty-ridden childhood. Still, it was Streisand, and as a card-carrying gay man, I fulfilled my duty to listen attentively, even managing a moment of unobserved swooning when she delicately pushed a non-existent stray hair from her face with a pale blue-tipped finger.

So Wednesday came and the exhibitor hall opened to long lines of eager attendees ready to scavenge for free swag. Fellow author Gary Frank showed up bright and early, rounding out our volunteer quartet. The HWA booth was ready for business, with the always-fabulous Alexandra Sokoloff (just try to say or write her name without that particular modifier attached!) up to bat first with her book signing of THE UNSEEN. Unfortunately, St. Martin’s Press did not ship either her paperback copies of UNSEEN for her booth signing or her galleys of BOOK OF SHADOWS for her main autograph area signing – causing poor Alex to forfeit the latter while improvising during the former with hardcover copies of her first three novels that she had resourcefully brought with her. Always the consummate professional and eternal optimist, Alex did not let the shipping mishap stop her from making connections with those who stopped by our booth.

The HWA booth continued to rock throughout the two days, with our participating authors enjoying steady lines and giving away every single book they brought. Jonathan Maberry, who I swear is the hardest working genre writer today, and newcomer Roger Ma (author of THE ZOMBIE COMBAT MANUAL) enjoyed particularly long lines that stretched well into the next aisle. Ellen signed copies of BEST NEW HORROR: VOLUME TWO at the HWA booth, as well as THE BEASTLY BRIDE during a coveted spot in the main autograph area; Martel signed copies of the anthology BOOK OF DEAD THINGS; Gary signed copies of his two Medallion novels INSTITUTIONAL MEMORY and FOREVER WILL YOU SUFFER; Jameson Currier signed copies of his Black Quill Award-winning collection THE HAUNTED HEART AND OTHER TALES, as well as his new novel THE WOLF AT THE DOOR; Kelly Jameson signed SHARDS OF SUMMER and DEAD ON; and Connie Corcoran-Wilson signed copies of her new collection HELLFIRE & DAMNATION.

Also got to finally meet Dark Scribe Press’ go-to girl for fantastic book covers – Deena Warner of Deena Warner Designs. She was there with her husband Matt, a terrific horror author. You know when you picture someone in your mind and have that preconceived idea of how they’ll sound and act in real-life? Well, happily, Mr. and Mrs. Warner were every ounce the warm, personable couple I’d envisioned all these months dealing with them via email. Speaking with them was a delight, and I felt like I’d known them for years (well, I kinda-sorta have…). I did miss meeting their handsome little tike, Owen, on Thursday but managed to score a signed poster by children’s book illustrator (and frequent Jamie Lee Curtis collaborator) Laura Cornell for their new addition.

Overall, the new HWA booth was very well-received, particularly by those familiar with our past efforts. We spoke with numerous librarians and potential new members throughout the event, and made good connections with both MWA and SFWA. I had a nice chat with SFWA Board member (and former President) Michael Capobianco, and our booth and brisk activity may have inspired his organization’s future participation at BEA. I’ve always felt that the genre writing organizations should work more closely with each other so it was nice to exchange some ideas, share some information and insight, and make those personal connections.

Some other highlights of BEA 2010:

• The swag! Since I had the car with me, I indulged in more of BEA’s infamous book booty this year. (This year's haul pictured above.) Brought home just over 50 free books, with signed copies of William Peter Blatty’s CRAZY, Cherie Priest’s DREADNOUGHT, Dan Well’s I AM NOT A SERIAL KILLER, Sara Gruen’s APE HOUSE, Emma Donoghue’s ROOM, and the legendary R.L. Stine’s FEAR anthology among the treasures. My two favorite finds: an unsigned galley of Michael Cunningham’s BY NIGHTFALL and a signed ARC of Justin Cronin’s THE PASSAGE, which I stood on line for with Steve Flax from MWA. If anyone doesn’t think that there are still “buzz books” out there, one had only observe the mega-marketing dollars Ballantine spent on Cronin’s BEA appearance – with billboards across the front of the Javits, badge holders emblazoned with the book’s title, ads in PW’s SHOW DAILY, and two mobbed author signings.

• Meeting HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME final girl Melissa Sue Anderson, quite by accident! After coming off William Peter Blatty’s line, I noticed someone holding up a copy of a book with an attractive, familiar-looking blond on the cover. (At BEA, the harder working publicists will often go right out into the crowds when their author is signing with a copy of the book to generate more traffic on that author’s line.) Sure enough, I quickly realized it was Virginia Wainwright herself and made a beeline over to her autograph line. She was there hawking (er…I mean promoting) her LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE memoir THE WAY I SEE IT: A LOOK BACK ON MY LIFE ON LITTLE HOUSE. Looking no worse for the wear of the last nearly thirty years since her classic slasher, Anderson was quite personable – although she may have glanced around discreetly for security when I asked her to inscribe my copy of her book with “Happy Birthday to Me.” We chatted briefly about mutual friend and former castmate Lesleh Donaldson right before I realized that I hadn’t brought my camera with me(!). Photo op dashed, I was resigned to my one-of-a-kind signed book and my pleasant exchange with one of Crawford Academy’s elite!

• One of the high points of the week for me – being the self-proclaimed reality TV junkie that I am – was meeting Ethan Zohn, a professional soccer player who became the winner of SURVIVOR: AFRICA. Folks may not know that Zohn recently battled a rare type of cancer called CD20-positive Hodgkin's lymphoma, with which he was diagnosed in May of 2009 and then underwent a stem cell transplant later that same year. Happily, his CT scan was clear last month and he is now in full remission. There was always something immensely likeable about Zohn on SURVIVOR amongst all the outwitting and outplaying, and news of his cancer just hit me hard for some inexplicable reason. Plus, he used his fifteen minutes of fame to give back to the world through several AIDS- and animal-related charitable endeavors – including Grassroot Soccer, a nonprofit organization that trains professional soccer players to teach African children, through a tailor-made curriculum, about HIV/AIDS prevention. In any event, Zohn is now trying his hand at writing – with a delightful interactive children’s book (I believe the first in a series) that finds his cartoon character likeness traveling to South Africa and exploring the culture and traditions with a soccer enthusiast friend named Tawela. It was a real honor to meet Zohn and to shake his hand, expressing to him how happy I was that he beat cancer. He signed a copy of his book for me and graciously posed for a photo to mark our meeting. Here’s wishing Zohn, one of the genuine good guys and a true survivor, much good health and happiness in his future. (If you’re a fan of Zohn’s like I am, why not consider clicking on the link above and making a small donation?)

• Most surreal moment of BEA week came while standing on line for Justin Cronin. There I am minding my own business, trying not to feel the throbbing pain after three straight days on my feet, when I look up and see Dr. Ruth Westheimer – all forty-two inches of her(!) – standing not two feet away from me. Just strolling down the main aisle, sucking the life out of a candy wrapper of some sort. Now, not being one to let celebrities of any kind pass by without forcing an interaction upon them, I giddily (and, apparently, with a touch of what was perceived as acute psychosis) called out, “Hey! Hi, Dr. Ruth!” and waved like a six-year-old who just encountered a clown at the circus. Needless to say that the diminutive good doctor turned on her slingbacks and made haste in the opposite direction!

The end of BEA week for me was capped by the Lambda Literary Awards. The brilliant Lee Thomas, whose IN THE CLOSET, UNDER THE BED collection Dark Scribe Press had the honor of publishing late last year, was up for an award in the Science Fiction/Fantasy/Horror category. Since Lee couldn’t make the trek north-eastward from Texas, I decided to represent. My good friend Jameson Currier agreed to be my date for the festivities, and, one short cab ride uptown to the School of Visual Arts Theater later, we found ourselves immersed amongst the LGBT literati. Ok, well, crammed into the excruciatingly hot lobby of an un-air conditioned theater with a standoffish group of oddly-attired writers, publishers, et al, is a more apt description – but, hey, a boy can glamorize, can’t he? Yeah, this one surprised me a bit. I was really taken aback by how unapproachable most of the folks were – including those representing the Lambda Literary Board of Directors, who I just assumed would have been making the rounds, introducing themselves to people, thanking them (ahem) for their generous contributions, etcetera. But they weren’t, and the night began badly in that sense. Having been to the Bram Stoker Awards, I can unequivocally say that the horror crowd is a much warmer bunch.

Alright, so things didn’t start off with a bang, but surely an awards show put on by a bunch of creative gay people would be nothing short of a Broadway production, right? Wrong. Lethargic doesn’t even begin to describe how anemic the awards ceremony was – so much so that even comic Eddie Sarfaty seemed bored by this bunch of literary stuffed shirts. At one point (and I sincerely kid you not) the young man who helped hand out the awards could actually be seen nodding off from his seat on the stage(!). Newly-out lesbian country singer Chely Wright, advertised as either a performer or a presenter, was a no-show, with no explanation given. There were a few high points, including Pioneer Award recipient Larry Kramer’s genuinely touching acceptance speech, Lynne Breedlove’s hysterical acceptance for her book Lynne Breedlove’s One Freak Show in the Transgender category, and Rakesh Satyal’s musical acceptance set to the tune of Lady Gaga’s BAD ROMANCE (even if it did overstay its welcome after the first dozen verses!).

Strangely, for a bunch of etiquette-driven queens and kings who should know better, poor form was on high display that night, with awardless nominees walking out after their category was announced and presenters bowing out after their gig was up if just to show that they were too important to stay for the whole show. Didn’t their mommas ever teach them that it’s polite to root for other people, even in the face of losing? We won’t even touch fashion, with folks actually showing up dressed down in jeans and sneakers. Would it kill people to play grown-up for one night and show a modicum of class – or does it have to be gay club night in New York? The whole thing was downright bizarre and a bit too tacky for my taste – which included a lovely black pinstripe suit with turquoise shirt and patterned tie. Thankfully, neither Jim nor I had purchased a ticket to the after party, which I can only imagine was more of the same cliquishness.

Low point of the night was walking up to a certain anthology editor (to whom I contributed an essay, gratis, to his well-received anthology and never so much as got an invite to participate in a single book signing or reading in the New York area) after the ceremony to introduce myself outside the theater and seeing that the guy clearly had no fucking clue who I was and, essentially, politely blowing me off right on 23rd Street. Ouch. (Luckily, karma is a bitch and the guy lost his own bid for one of the non-descript hunks of glass everyone seems obsessed with winning.)

Alas, Lee’s collection did not win that night, but as he so eloquently said on Facebook shortly after the event, he’d rather lose in a strong category than win in a weak category. Now that, folks, is real class.

Not to end on a negative note, I must point out that, awards debacle aside, I really like and support – both financially and in principle – the Lambda Literary Foundation. They’ve got what appears to be a marvelous new Executive Director, a gentleman named Tony Valenzuela, and an excellent new webmaster, Antonio Gonzalez, who has done wonders updating the Lambda Literary website. Overall, the Lambda Literary Foundation does some marvelous work in supporting and promoting LGBT literature. Like every organization, they do some things better than others. I’ll still support them – even if I bypass their next awards “gala.”

We’ll just chalk our first up-close-and-personal moment up to a bad first date.

Happy Birthday to...

...the incomparable Jamie Lee Curtis. The all-time best scream queen turns 51 years young today, and she's even more fabulous than she was when my ten-year-old self caught sight of her those many years ago in a little slasher flick called HALLOWEEN. As you may know, I've been slightly smitten ever since.

Lighting 51 blood red candles for her today and sending her a virtual copy of HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME so she can relive her slasher days (even if she wasn't in the flick!).

FDA Issues Urgent Activia Yogurt Recall...

...following unexpected side effects.

Warning: Activia yogurt contains Bifidus Zombilaris that may cause more than occasional bouts of virulent diarrhea.

Jamie Lee Wigs Out!

Say it isn’t so! Is Jamie Lee actually channeling Britney Spears — the cuckoo years?

No, it’s just my girl doing what she does best: making a statement. This time, it’s an important one.

Jamie Lee and a bunch of Hollywood A-listers headed to the Beverly Hilton Hotel this past Saturday for the 3rd Annual Noche De Ninos Gala celebrating hospital heroes and benefiting Children's Hospital Los Angeles. Her True Lies husband and current California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger was on hand to present her with the 2009 Entertainment Industry Courage to Care Award for her continued support and involvement with children's hospitals and organizations.

So why the pink locks? She wore the pink wig to the event in memory of a young girl named Katie Westbrook. "Katie was a young cancer patient that I met in Pittsburgh," she told Entertainment Tonight from the red carpet. "This is what Katie wore. This is how she dealt with her cancer — she walked around challenging people to look at her. When she died I asked her mother if I could continue her work. I'm doing this because you will show this tonight and you'll tell her story."

Watch the video below to hear more from Jamie Lee and the heroes of the evening:

This Christmas...

...may Peace reign across the land and within our hearts.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Kwanzaa to all!

x/o Vince

Peace Be with You...

An intricate snowflake vine gathered in sheaths of white satin folds...

Heaven is a place on Earth.

Happy Hump Day!

A Special Happy Hump Day Message...

Pearls, dangerous curves, and midnight blue.

Enough said...

Now, back to the weekly grind.

Jamie Lee Drops the F-Bomb (Sort of...)

Nice new clip of Jamie Lee from Access Hollywood about the More magazine article...enjoy!

We Interrupt This Regularly Scheduled Blog...

...to bring you this special Jamie Lee moment.

Just because.

Happy Mother's Day...

Wishing all the world's Moms a spectacular day from the Jamie Lee Curtis archives, here with her lovely mother - the late Janet Leigh.

Happy Mother's Day!

x/o Vince

Show Some Support (Or Shameless Promotion of a Friend)

My pal, the wonderful actress Jamie Rose, will be a guest star on the hilarious CBS sitcom Two and a Half Men on Monday, May 5th at 9:00 PM EST. This is part of a crossover between Men and the wildly popular forensics drama CSI. Jamie will be playing a Marg Helgenberger-type in the episode titled "Fish in a Drawer," which is being penned by the writers of CSI and guest starring that show's George Eads. (The Men scribes will then try their hand at writing an episode of CSI later that week titled "Two and a Half Deaths," which airs on May 8th at 9:00 PM EST). I've heard of stunt casting before, but stunt writing? Promises to be interesting.

For those of you who haven't yet discovered this talented actress, I strongly suggest that you tune in. Jamie is a fabulous actor with a long and varied career that has included (for the horror fans) roles in the memorable slasher flick Just Before Dawn, the horror-comedy Chopper Chicks of Zombietown, and the 1990 chiller Playroom. Jamie is perhaps best known for her series regular role as Victoria Gioberti on the CBS primetime soap Falcon Crest and her series lead on the controversial ABC hit Lady Blue back in the 80's. Since then, Jamie has gone on to establish herself as a reputable character actor and has guest starred or recurred on everything from Chicago Hope and St. Elsewhere to NYPD Blue, Cold Case, and ER. She recently let me know that she's also just landed a guest spot on the popular FOX drama House, MD.

I first became acquainted with Jamie back in June of 2006 when I interviewed her for Autograph Collector, and we've become fast friends since. In her spare time, she runs a very well-regarded acting studio and has quite a loyal following of up-and-coming Hollywood talent vying for spots in her packed classes. If you're an actor, you would be wise to check it out. Oh, and it doesn't hurt that she's drop-dead gorgeous, too!

Bit of trivia...can you guess which Desperate Housewives role Jamie once auditioned for? Hint: It's not the one you'd think!

Anyway, seems like Jamie's on a well-deserved roll right now...so don't forget, Monday, May 5th @ 9:00 PM. Don't let me down.

My Interview with Prom Night's Johnathon Schaech Finally Sees the Light of Day...

My long-delayed interview with Johnathon Schaech is out now in the May 2008 issue of Autograph Magazine. Schaech (whose last name rhymes with "deck") is an actor and screenwriter, best known for his roles in films like How to Make an American Quilt, That Thing You Do!, Hush, The Forsaken, the TV biopic Houdini, and the recent is-it-or-isn't-it-a-remake Prom Night. He was also married to Married with Children and Samantha Who? actress Christina Applegate, but the two divorced in August 2007. This is actually the second half of a longer interview I did with him; the first half appears in its entirety at Dark Scribe Magazine.

Schaech has now branched out into screenwriting, collaborating with writing partner Richard Chizmar (the well-regarded Cemetery Dance publisher) on several film and TV scripts, including an adaptation of Bentley Little's short story The Washingtonians for the Showtime series Masters of Horror and adaptations of two Stephen King books - From a Buick 8 and Black House (which King co-wrote with Peter Straub).

You can pick up a copy of Autograph at your local Borders or Barnes & Noble and it can also be ordered online. Click here for a preview of the interview.

Jamie Lee Lampooned...

You know you've hit the pop culture radar when you get spoofed on Saturday Night Live. Case in point: Jamie Lee Curtis gets ribbed for her recent AARP cover, her outspoken Oprah appearance, and her spokesperson gig for Activia yogurt. It's all in the name of good-natured fun, of course. (And heaven knows the ailing SNL needs some of that right now...) Take a look and have a Monday chuckle as Kristin Wiig takes on the sublime Ms. Jamie Lee and gets a (literal) blast of digestive goodness:

Just What the Therapist Ordered...

With my approaching (well, it feels more like encroaching) 40th birthday next month, I've been joking that I'm going to need some serious therapy. For whatever reason, the big 4-0 is bothering me a bit. Not sure why, since neither 30 nor 35 bothered me in the least. I need some therapy...or at least a bit of inspiration. Not a surprise at all then that my girl should come through for me with a new cover celebrating her own milestone birthday later this year:


Subtitled "Getting Back to Basics at 50," the article talks about Jamie Lee's wake-up call to get fit and healthy and how she's embraced aging gracefully:

"I want to be older," she tells the magazine. "I actually think there's an incredible amount of self-knowledge that comes with getting older. I feel way better now than I did when I was 20. I'm stronger, I'm smarter in every way, I'm so much less crazy than I was then."

Curtis says growing older means paring down to an essential version of yourself:

"I've let my hair go gray. I wear only black and white. Every year I buy three or four black dresses that I just keep in rotation. I own one pair of blue jeans. I've given away all my jewelry, because I don't wear it."

This is not a new line of thinking for her. Following an earthquake years ago that damaged her Santa Monica home, I remember reading that she'd gotten rid of much of her "stuff" - downsizing on the suffocating materialism and aiming for an uncluttered life.

She's right. Approaching 40, I've taken stock of all the "stuff" in my own life. And there's a damn lot of it. Material stuff. Psychological stuff. Interpersonal stuff. Too much stuff that clogs up the arteries of life. Maybe it's all this stuff cluttering up our daily lives that's at the root cause of mid-life crises, those breakdowns in human reasoning characterized by impulsive sports car purchases, desperate affairs with 20-year-olds, and the sporting of hairstyles more befitting Zac Effron.

Pare down. Simplify. Let go. It makes sense. Obviously, Jamie Lee has gotten it right, and it's liberated her. So it's resolution time. Spend $200 an hour for a therapist who will repeatedly ask me how I feel and inevitably trace everything back to mother issues, or snag a copy of the AARP article, laminate it, and take a cue from Jamie Lee? Wading through all the clutter, I realize that I am smarter, more self-assured, more self-aware (sometimes too much so) than I was at 20. It's a good start. Now I gotta aim for the simpler part.

Pare down. Simplify. Let go. My new mantra.

It makes sense.

Thought for the Day...

And Now For This JLC Moment...

After yesterday's little political rant, I figured you needed something a tad lighter. What could be better when things get a bit tense than Jamie Lee Curtis (complete with fab glasses!) talking kids and competition? In this short interview clip, she also reveals for the first time details about her next children's book:

The Cure for Rainy Monday's...

...a little dash of leopard-print and Jamie Lee!

Taylor Dayne and the Lost Interview

Just picked up Taylor Dayne's new CD, Satisfied. It's an incredible return to form for the 80's pop diva, who Billboard's Chuck Eddy recently called "the historical missing link between Laura Branigan and Celine Dion" - and, loving all three vocal powerhouses, I couldn't agree more. Among the standouts in the new set are the insinuating groves of I'm Over My Head (my personal favorite), the pop gem (and first single) Beautiful, the reggae-infused She Don't Love You, and a passionate cover of the Red Hot Chili Pepper's Under the Bridge. Nice to see a talented artist making a serious comeback bid. I'd seriously urge fans of great female vocalists and well-crafted pop music to check this one out. I predict that this CD will put her back on the musical map.

Funny Taylor Dayne story. Tracked her down back in late 2006 through her (then) reps Gold Mountain Music. Proposed an interview with Autograph Collector focusing on the new album and her long and varied career that included some acting bits in film and TV. Got the green light from her reps for an email interview - which don't always work and sometimes make it difficult for the interview to evolve as naturally as face-to-face or telephone interviews. Sent over the questions and mailed out a package of unsigned photos for her to sign that would accompany the interview. Got confirmation that she received both. Weeks went by, then we ushered in 2007. Emails went back and forth, with Gold Mountain promising me that Dayne's answers and the signed photos were forthcoming.

Finally received the answers in February of '07, but the photos were another story entirely. After several more weeks of back and forth, Gold Mountain reluctantly tells me that Dayne thought she had mailed the photos back to me, but (somehow) came to realize that a raccoon (yes, I said a raccoon) had made off with the package. The Gold Mountain rep said not to ask, and I didn't. Having invested so much time in the interview, I immediately contacted my European contact from whom I get many of the unsigned photos I use in my AC pieces and purchased another batch. As luck (or misfortune, depending upon whether you're a "glass half full" or "glass half empty" kind of person) would have it, a miracle occured on the very day the new (and relatively pricey) batch of 8x10's arrived. You guessed it. Dayne found the original batch of photos! As she herself once sang in the title track to her 1989 album, "you can't fight fate." Now, Dayne was gracious and not only signed and inscribed everything I had sent, she also sent along a signed concert DVD which was a lovely conciliatory gesture. Things were looking good that I was finally going to get this baby wrapped. Then I started to write the piece.

As I finished my intro and went to integrate Dayne's answers, I realized with sickening horror that her answers were sketchy at best. It looked as though she was either too busy or too disinterested (or, more likely, a combination of both), answering each question so briefly that one could almost hear her clipped, monosyllabic answers if read aloud. Still, I was good at layout and plumped and fluffed the piece as best as I could, stopping short of putting words into the pop diva's mouth. Besides, the pictures were lovely - and pictures are worth at least a thousand words, right? I took solace in that old adage as I came up about 999 words short.

Not surprisingly, my editor rejected the story a few weeks later, picking up on the same sense of disinterest on Dayne's part through her answers. Watching my hopes of a four-page spread quickly fade, I offered to re-write the piece, scaling it down to a "Ten Questions With..." kind of thing. No go. Unfazed, I resigned myself to another go-around, thinking that I'd re-establish contact with Dayne's folks at Gold Mountain Music, explain the situation, and see if they couldn't arrange a 15-20 telephone interview with Dayne so I could flesh the interview out a bit. As established earlier, however, one simply can not fight fate; in their perfunctory email response, Gold Mountain alerted me to the fact that they no longer repped Dayne.

Figuring that the work involved in tracking down and contacting her new reps and trying to re-start this entire process would now eclipse any hope of an actual paycheck from the gig, I surrendered to the fates - the same ones that Dayne told me through song that I just couldn't fight anyway.

My Valentine...

Jamie Lee...Ringmaster of my Heart!

Happy Valentine's Day to all.