This New York Times subhead says it all:
Three weeks after naming him as Alex Trebek’s replacement to host the show, Sony cited “disruption and internal difficulties” in its announcement that he will leave the program entirely.
And so we wave a not-so-fond “adieu” to a guy who achieved 2 major dubious distinctions to the world in, what, about 4 weeks?
Here’s what going on, socially and professionally, at the Writers Guild of America West this month:
Until further notice, the Guild has suspended in-person committee meetings and events, member meetings, and screenings at the Writers Guild Theater. Virtual events are listed below. Members must RSVP in advance to receive access info to participate in online events.
One of the best intentioned as well as best run and most helpful festivals we know of wants – well, to put it succinctly, it wants ALL OF US!
NOTE: TVWriter™ gets nothing out of this particular event except the satisfaction of knowing we’re helping y’all learn about and attend something we believe in.)
If you’re a showbiz superfan but don’t want your friends to perceive you that way, one of the best ways to learn more about what’s happening in the biz – including current trends and attitudes et al – the best way to do that is to subscribe to The Los Angeles Times.
No, I’m not going to make a snarky comment about the Times and its obsessions (unless this sentence counts as one). Instead I’m recommending this insider view, published today, in which journalist Randee Dawn brings us what currently Emmy nominated writers have to say about their nominated episodes.
Here’s a peek.
This morning as I drank my morning coffee (I’m off breakfast for awhile because why not?), I read one of the most moving essays I’ve seen in years. The essay, by Mark Evanier (surely you already know who Mark is), has nothing to do with writing or showbiz (well, a little about showbiz, you’ll see), but it tells a wonderful story about my favorite subject – LIFE.
Here’s how Mark’s story starts:
This time out, I’m going to tell the story of two of the best laughs I ever got in my life, one at age ten and one at twelve. They were both with the same joke and the person who laughed at it twice was my Uncle Aaron. He was a nice man — my father’s sister’s husband — who looked enough like Art Carney to be occasionally mistaken for him.