Seven Defensible Steps to the Place You Never Meant to Go
The call came in on a Tuesday, which was fitting, because Tuesdays were the days when Michael Reynard felt most acutely that his career had become a room where someone else kept rearranging the furniture. He was thirty-seven years old, a screenwriter — no, that was not quite right, not anymore. He was what the industry called a script doctor, a fixer, a closer. When a screenplay was...
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