THE LIFE COACH
A very contemporary half hour dramedy original TV pilot about what it means to find your true calling and a decent vegan meal.
The Life Coach is a half hour dramedy I wrote because, well, for many years, I’ve been a professional life coach.
I have no idea how that happened.
Okay, that’s a lie. I do know.
The Life Coach is about a woman in her mid-40s suffering adult PTSD from having seen her mother commit suicide when she was a little girl. To cope she smokes a lot of weed. Has sex with strange men. A lot. She’s messy. Insanely mad at her father for not protecting her from her emotionally fucked up mother (he’s a noted psychiatrist at UCLA). She can’t accept where her life is, so she can’t, of course, heal.
I bear no resemblance whatsoever to the main character.
Back to our regularly scheduled programming.
The coaching work was something I made fun of for years, but the joke was on me. It accelerated my healing and brought me to my life’s purpose, which is to help people feel happier and live larger both in the bedroom, er, boardroom and in their careers.
Who knew listening to people telling me their deepest, darkest secrets all day would be so enjoyable?
(Me. The answer would be me.)
I’ve spent a few decades deeply studying psychology, metaphysics, quantum physics, spirituality (whatever that means), meditation and I have been to more psychics and mediums than you can shake a dozen crystals at.
Man, I’ve spent a lot of money on psychics.
I was born to write The Life Coach.
Here’s the official pitch:
When a rebellious and outspoken 45-year old woman is ousted from her father’s esteemed psychiatry department at UCLA for assaulting a colleague, she goes into a spiral of depression and depravity until she decides to enroll in an outrageous spiritual life coaching program as a way to find answers and heal from the death of her mother.
An hour long original TV pilot based upon my original memoir “Creepy Kid.”
A family drama for the rest of us.
You can’t start a revolution unless you lead the parade.
I heard someone say recently that memoir is hard to adapt into a TV show because you’re a slave to the literal events.
Yeah, not for me.
While the events in this did happen there is a lot that’s made up because if there is one rule about my writing I don’t violate it’s this: MY WRITING ISN’T BORING.
I may be long-winded and big haired, but the last thing I am is boring.
Case in point - this TV pilot.
It’s Six Feet Under meets This Is Us meets The Sopranos minus Jersey and the Italian influence but with the shrinks, sex and violence.
It’s good. Very good. Netflix this is my gift for you. Hope you like it.
Here’s the official pitch:
In the small town of Woodbridge, Washington a young boy discovers he’s gay during a time that doesn’t accept that as part of coming of age. His mentally ill mother warns him that he shouldn’t be “different” for fear he’ll be a social outcast in their 1970s rural hometown of the Pacific Northwest; but Dillion O’Sullivan has different plans.
A mother’s love never dies.
I wrote the script Black Angel while attending New York University’s Dramatic Writing program many years ago. It’s about a secretly gay man and his controlling mother and their mutual love affair with the same man.
I was working through some tiny mommy issues. #noshit
Later, I adapted it into a book. It’s on this fancy little ‘o site of mine.
Both the book and the movie are a devilishly good time. Provocative, shocking and more often than not, sexually outrageous. I wish my sex life was so fun.
Professors at NYU said after reading the script, “I’m almost afraid to meet your mother.”
I wrote it while my mother was still alive and suffering from rabid mental illness. She later took her own life, and since that time I’ve come to forgive and accept her in a way I could’ve only dreamed about before writing Black Angel.
She was a monster to me, true, but she was my beautiful monster and she was my monster and it’s why I live for Bates Motel.
I rewrote the script recently. It’s a strange and wonderfully hypnotic beast. A bullet of a thriller. An homage to classic film noirs that’s wildly contemporary since it focuses on sex roles, affluence and the power of privilege and shame.
Unfortunately, timeless issues which haunt us today.
I wrote Black Angel after I discovered little known author Cornell Woolrich when someone told me he wrote the suspense story that inspired Hitchcock’s nail-biting film Rear Window.
He and his mother, Beatrice, lived in New York City in the 30s and 40s. Their relationship was notorious.
Notorious because they were insanely close; notorious because Cornell was known to be a closeted homosexual, something that was forbidden in the 30s.
Not much has changed.
My life mirrored Cornell’s to an alarming degree. Sure, my mother and I didn’t live in high-society New York with the rich and famous, but she was a fucking nut job I loved with my heart and soul and hated her as well and now, well - she is off my back thank you very much.
Needless to say outrageously dysfunctional mother/son relationships are my raison d'être.
The script won the Lake Placid Film Festival and almost went into production with the late Jill Clayburgh. She would have been the perfect Beatrice. Styled, neurotic and alarmingly beautiful.
The events in the story are fictional, and I’ve only used Cornell and Beatrice as inspiration.
The script is available for option.
It's 1939. New York City. Hunched over a desk is Cornell Woolrich, the soon-to-be famous suspense writer of “Rear Window” and “The Bride Wore Black.” He’s a terribly lonely and isolated man in his 30s desperately trying to write his very first novel, but he can't. Something stands in his way. A horrible desire. A desire so awful he can't reveal it to anyone, especially to his mother - a powerful member of elite New York Society. Without warning, a man enters their lives. He's elegant, charming, sexy... he's irresistible. He swoops into Cornell’s life and seduces him into a world of dangerous possibilities. It becomes frighteningly apparent that this dark stranger holds the key to Cornell finishing his book and the key to unleashing his terrifying desire.
A HALF-HOUR COMEDY TV PILOT
I remember reading an interview with the great Larry Gelbart on what his movie Tootsie was about. He said, “All revolved around that core line said by Dustin Hoffman in the movie.”
Michael Dorsey (Dustin Hoffman): “I was a better man with you as a woman than I ever was with a woman as a man.”
As a man who has dated and had sex with both men and women and has male friends who are both straight and gay (and sometimes in-between), I wanted to write a TV show that put my spin on Gelbart’s theme.
I know he’d approve.
I wrote a TV Pilot about a gay man who becomes a better gay man by being a straight man, a straight man who become a better straight man by being a gay man.
See? Tootsie without any wigs or make-up for 2019.
I wrote it trying to make sense of what it meant to me to be a gay man. I’ve never felt I fit in with gay culture. I always felt I was somewhere in the middle. Maybe I’m bisexual. My dick tells me otherwise.
The show is fast, furious and a very raw and funny (if I do say so myself) take on what today’s man is facing being challenged to evolve, grow up and stop wearing baseball caps to dinner.
It’s told through the lens of two identical twin brothers against the backdrop of high-powered corporate Manhattan.
Here’s the pitch:
When two identical New York twin brothers, one gay and one straight, are dumped by their lovers for their glaring character flaws, they fall into a deep funk and can’t figure out who to win their lovers back. When the gay brother steps in to save his brother’s job posing as his straight bro, the duo come up with a plan: swap places as the other brother to win their loves of their lives back. But is it too late? Or is there time to take the leap? leap?