If this question is searing through your daily thoughts as you go about your work in the entertainment industry, you’re asking the wrong question. 
What you should be asking is&#8230; why should the Writers Guild of America members have to strike to gain the appropriate remuneration and working conditions they merit for performing the primary creative endeavor that supports everything else that happens in entertainment the industry?
Some of you may remember me from the days when Creative Screenwriting Magazine was a print magazine. I had come to the magazine after spending eleven years writing scripts for some of the top series on network television and developing projects for nearly every studio in Hollywood. During those years, I’d chaired numerous committees at the Writers Guild of America west and served a two-year term on the WGA Board of Directors. I’m still active in the guild as a member of four committees and Chair of the Career Longevity Committee. 
So, the fact that I am an ardent supporter of my labor union should go without saying. Yet, what often goes unsaid – and what needs to be shouted loud and clear right now – is that without the Writers Guild of America, every screenwriter would still be working under the same terrible conditions that created the momentum to start a union more than ninety years ago. 
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<h3>WGA Ensures Decent Pay And Work Conditions For Writers</h3>
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The initial goal of the Screenwriters Guild was to make sure screenwriters were paid enough to afford a decent quality of life, as well as to determine screen credits that would factually represent the creative contribution of the screenwriter(s) to the resulting motion picture. The result of that is a mature contract that stipulates the minimum salary that can be paid to a writer at each step of the process. It also ensures a strong credit arbitration system where members of the guild read, analyze, and determine which writer(s) contribution resulted in the story you see on screen. This is a financial necessity because all subsequent income from a project generates from the &#8216;written by&#8217; credit. Those credits also influence the progress a writer can make in obtaining subsequent writing assignments and pay hikes.
In the decades that followed our guild’s origin, screenwriters still struggled to gain respect. Often, the benefits of respect needed to be won in a hard-fought strike. Our creative “ancestors” went on strike for things that writers often take for granted now – residuals, a pension, and health insurance. If you’re young and taking baby steps in your writing career, these issues are most likely not part of your daily considerations. Yet, I can assure you that these hard won benefits may be the key to your future. 
My first son is alive ONLY because of our health care plan. He was injured by medical negligence when he was born, then transferred to a local Children’s Hospital. When I arrived at that NICU, the neonatologist told me, “You shouldn’t have come. There’s nothing we can do &#8211; go home and we’ll call you when he dies.” I told her that if my son only had a few hours to live, I was going to spend it with him. Then I told her that he had a million dollars of health insurance from the Writers Guild and begged her to spare no expense keeping him from feeling pain. She turned to me with a smile and said, “Oh, we thought he was a paper patient (the technical term for a patient with no health insurance). There’s so much we can do.” My husband and I spent the next five and one half months living in that NICU with our son – and every night I thanked God for the writers who went on strike so that I could earn the insurance that kept my son alive.
<div id="attachment_40423" style="width: 315px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-40423" class=" wp-image-40423" src="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2023/04/Everything-Everywhere-All-at-Once-Is-Multiverse-Storytelling-at-Its-Best-The-Atlantic.jpeg" alt="Creative Screenwriting Magazine" width="305" height="355" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2023/04/Everything-Everywhere-All-at-Once-Is-Multiverse-Storytelling-at-Its-Best-The-Atlantic.jpeg 240w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2023/04/Everything-Everywhere-All-at-Once-Is-Multiverse-Storytelling-at-Its-Best-The-Atlantic-129x150.jpeg 129w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2023/04/Everything-Everywhere-All-at-Once-Is-Multiverse-Storytelling-at-Its-Best-The-Atlantic-150x174.jpeg 150w" sizes="(max-width: 305px) 100vw, 305px" />Catherine Clinch</div>
Remember the hit television series I mentioned earlier? Hunter, Jake &amp; The Fatman, Knight Rider, The Love Boat, and Hart To Hart have never stopped airing on television somewhere in the world since their initial run on broadcast networks. Writers (and other industry creatives) often joke about the paltry sums we earn in residuals. But a cumulative tally of the residual income I’ve earned from writing scripts for those series exceeds $160,000. THIS is why residuals are so important.
This brings us to working conditions. Things have improved immensely since I joined the guild in 1980. In those years, nobody had used the words “diversity” or “inclusion” correctly in a sentence. Gender bias was not just tolerated, but sometimes celebrated. The parental leave plan was called, “You’re fired.” And for those of us girls who managed to break through the A-list white boys club to work on these series, sexual harassment was just another day at the office. 
Since those days, the guild has built a remarkable staff of specialists in the areas of Inclusion and Equity – all working under exceptionally devoted leadership of that department. Great progress has been made by most members of the protected classes. The unfortunate exception to this progress involves older writers. Ageism is the last socially-acceptable form of discrimination and it is rampant in our industry – even against Emmy winners and older showrunners. So, there are still fights to be fought, although not all of them can be handled during the current contract negotiations. 
Which brings us to the current list of demands on behalf of screenwriters in this contract negotiation. During my first decade in the guild, we had THREE strikes. 1981, 1985 and 1988 – the last of which lasted for five months. The most recent WGA strike was held in 2007-8 and lasted for three months.
In retrospect, an argument could be made that we had conflicted leadership and chief negotiators who might have risen to their personal &#8216;Peter Principle.&#8217; Since those days, we have been able to make significant improvements to our benefits and working conditions without a strike. These have been accomplished by strong leadership that has been united behind common goals. 
Our negotiating committee is filled with high-level, produced writers in all of the categories that need to be covered under our new contract. Due to the sudden medical leave of the guild’s Executive Director, we have the benefit of our Assistant Executive Director moving into the role of Chief Negotiator. Her mastery of facts and numbers is impressive and we are in the best hands possible for this negotiation. 
On April 17, 97.8% of all Active Current status members who are eligible to vote approved a Strike Authorization Vote. THIS IS NOT A VOTE TO STRIKE! It is a vote that authorizes the negotiating committee – working with guild leadership, officers and board members – to call a strike if it becomes apparent that there is a standstill in negotiations that cannot be overcome. It is not a responsibility that any member of our team will take lightly. It is a tool that offers the leverage of an industry awareness that virtually every writer they have working for them will honor a work stoppage. 
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<h3>First Rule Of Strike Club</h3>
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That’s where you come in. If you are a guild member, you know all the rules. You cannot perform any writing work or seek employment during a strike.
But if you are not yet a guild member, you also cannot perform any writing work during a strike. Violating this rule renders you “a scab writer” who will ultimately be exposed and then denied entry into the guild when you do earn enough points to join. 
If there is a strike – and that is still a very big IF &#8211; you can still write spec scripts and novels and make short films and take classes and do every other creative venture you choose to pursue. But you cannot perform writing services for any member of the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers (AMPTP) against whom the WGA is striking. You cannot pitch – in person or via Zoom &#8211;  or submit your scripts to them, either. Think of it as paying it forward to serve your own future best interests when you finally become a professional writer.
Last, but certainly not least, should you still have any doubts about the importance of respecting the WGA during a work stoppage, take a look at the “opportunities”  that are available to non-union screenwriters. They usually offer as little as $5,000 for a finished screenplay with no guarantees about anything beyond that. This scenario is not an opportunity for anybody but the person trying to take advantage of you.
But without our guild to negotiate the Minimum Basic Agreement we work under, we’d all be fighting over those $5,000 gigs. So, IF the writers do go on strike (which is still a great big “IF”) and you happen to be driving past a picket line, honk your horn, wave and shout “Thank you!”

Will The Writers Guild Members Go On Strike?

By Catherine Clinch. 
There is something wonderful about the notion of being able to trace the entire essence of who you are to a single influence. For Steve Martin, the moment of his creation happened when he took a teenager’s job in the Magic Shop at Disneyland and met a man who made animals out of balloons.
“Wally Bogue was an entertainer at Disneyland that I used to watch. He was a very funny, likable guy, and I thought that’s what I want to be—a funny, likable guy. Well, I got funny…” and funny led him on a circuitous route to writing, and writing enabled him to create stories imbued with such charm and wit that he is known to be one of the most likable men in the entertainment industry.
<div id="attachment_12274" style="width: 220px" class="wp-caption alignright"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-12274" class="size-medium wp-image-12274" src="http://creativescreenwriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Cruel-Shoes-by-Steve-Martin-210x300.jpg" alt="Cruel Shoes, by Steve Martin" width="210" height="300" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Cruel-Shoes-by-Steve-Martin-210x300.jpg 210w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Cruel-Shoes-by-Steve-Martin-105x150.jpg 105w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Cruel-Shoes-by-Steve-Martin-718x1024.jpg 718w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Cruel-Shoes-by-Steve-Martin-1024x1460.jpg 1024w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Cruel-Shoes-by-Steve-Martin-123x175.jpg 123w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Cruel-Shoes-by-Steve-Martin-409x583.jpg 409w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Cruel-Shoes-by-Steve-Martin.jpg 1086w" sizes="(max-width: 210px) 100vw, 210px" />Cruel Shoes, by Steve Martin</div>
Being a philosophy major doesn’t normally lend itself to anything as mundane as marketable skills, so Martin found his way into stand-up comedy. There he had “this horrible revelation that if I was going to be successful as a comedian, I’d have to write everything myself. Otherwise, it was going to be derivative.”
He began, as most comedians do, by writing down funny things that happened to him throughout the day. “In college, I wrote some essays that eventually became a book called Cruel Shoes. This little book of essays became my entrée into writing for television.”
Writing jokes for television enabled Martin to learn his craft “because it’s all about the bare bones of something. The way a joke’s structured, it can’t be too elaborate.” After a couple of years of writing for television, “I decided I was going nowhere and quit. I went on to do my comedy act and that became successful. Then I started writing screenplays. I co-wrote The Jerk, which was based on a lot of material that was already in my act.”
<div id="attachment_12277" style="width: 610px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><a href="https://shareasale.com/r.cfm?b=979306&amp;u=1321367&amp;m=62509&amp;urllink=&amp;afftrack=" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-12277" class="size-full wp-image-12277" src="http://creativescreenwriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/The-Jerk.jpg" alt="Steve Martin as Navin in The Jerk" width="600" height="338" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/The-Jerk.jpg 600w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/The-Jerk-150x85.jpg 150w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/The-Jerk-250x141.jpg 250w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/The-Jerk-500x282.jpg 500w" sizes="(max-width: 600px) 100vw, 600px" /></a>Steve Martin as Navin in The Jerk</div>
As Martin’s career expanded, so did his creative options. He envisioned a project that would blend classic literature and romantic comedy. “With Roxanne, I was searching for a screenwriter to write it because I didn’t feel up to it. I searched and searched and nobody wanted to do it so I thought, well, maybe I’ll try. I learned a lot from it. I did about forty drafts of this thing.
I started by copying Cyrano de Bergerac, and eventually it migrated into something that was Roxanne.”
<div id="attachment_12269" style="width: 610px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-12269" class="size-full wp-image-12269" src="http://creativescreenwriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/roxeanne.jpg" alt="Steve Martin as C. D. Bales in Roxanne" width="600" height="338" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/roxeanne.jpg 600w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/roxeanne-150x85.jpg 150w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/roxeanne-250x141.jpg 250w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/roxeanne-500x282.jpg 500w" sizes="(max-width: 600px) 100vw, 600px" />Steve Martin as C. D. Bales in Roxanne</div>
In 1991, he wrote and starred in L.A. Story, one of the few American films to successfully venture into the literary conceit of magical realism. As the adventures of a funny and likeable weatherman named Harris K. Telemacher unfold amidst the insane and inane cacophony of Southern California, viewers were led to wonder how much of what they were watching was autobiographical.
Indeed, the parallels were striking—right up to the point where the movie’s romantic interest became the real-life Mrs. Martin. In a most unusual way, this film established him as a new kind of auteur—the writer who puts his imprint on the film as the true author by performing the character he has created on the page.
<div id="attachment_12276" style="width: 610px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-12276" class="size-full wp-image-12276" src="http://creativescreenwriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/LA-Story.png" alt="Steve Martin as Harris K. Telemacher and Victoria Tennant as Sara McDowel in L.A. Story" width="600" height="339" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/LA-Story.png 600w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/LA-Story-150x85.png 150w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/LA-Story-250x141.png 250w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/LA-Story-500x283.png 500w" sizes="(max-width: 600px) 100vw, 600px" />Steve Martin as Harris K. Telemacher and Victoria Tennant as Sara McDowel in L.A. Story</div>
Martin’s next exploration was an original stage play that drew from his philosophical roots—Picasso at Le Pain Agile—enabling us to eavesdrop on an imagined Socratic dialogue between Picasso and Albert Einstein. Excited by the expansive opportunities of writing for the stage, Martin ventured into yet another format for his next work, the novella.
<div id="attachment_12271" style="width: 221px" class="wp-caption alignright"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-12271" class="size-medium wp-image-12271" src="http://creativescreenwriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Shopgirl-by-Steve-Martin-211x300.jpeg" alt="Shopgirl, by Steve Martin" width="211" height="300" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Shopgirl-by-Steve-Martin-211x300.jpeg 211w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Shopgirl-by-Steve-Martin-106x150.jpeg 106w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Shopgirl-by-Steve-Martin-722x1024.jpeg 722w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Shopgirl-by-Steve-Martin-123x175.jpeg 123w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Shopgirl-by-Steve-Martin-411x583.jpeg 411w" sizes="(max-width: 211px) 100vw, 211px" />Shopgirl, by Steve Martin</div>
This was Shop Girl, later to be adapted into a film by Martin himself, which tells the story of the relationship between Ray Porter, a wealthy older man, and a delicate young artist, Mirabelle, who sells gloves at Nieman-Marcus.
It has been suggested that there is a sense of loneliness weaving through all of Martin’s writing, yet a more accurate term might be longing. Where loneliness implies a sadness at being alone, Martin’s writing enables the viewer to accept characters who have created a comfort zone around their solitude, yearning for true companionship and love with the earnest hope that it will eventually arrive.
The real power of Martin’s writing comes from the fine detail that he devotes to moments and the emotions that envelope them. “I think everything that is not political—that is personal—happens in moments. It’s the moments that change everything—the look on a person’s face, the gesture.”
There is one particular passage in Shop Girl that seems to define his entire technique: “It’s not the big moments that really affect you—it’s the upturned syllable at the end of a word that can kill you.”
<div id="attachment_12275" style="width: 160px" class="wp-caption alignright"><a href="https://shareasale.com/r.cfm?b=999236&amp;u=1321367&amp;m=62509&amp;urllink=&amp;afftrack=" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-12275" class="size-thumbnail wp-image-12275" src="http://creativescreenwriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/David-Mamet-150x150.jpg" alt="David Mamet" width="150" height="150" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/David-Mamet-150x150.jpg 150w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/David-Mamet-250x250.jpg 250w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/David-Mamet-50x50.jpg 50w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/David-Mamet-500x500.jpg 500w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/David-Mamet.jpg 973w" sizes="(max-width: 150px) 100vw, 150px" /></a>David Mamet</div>
Martin believes that the ultimate power of writing comes from accessing the artistry inside. Invoking David Mamet’s theories on acting, Martin explains: “No art comes from the conscious mind. You always want to challenge that, to quibble with it, but—I so believe it—the conscious mind is about structure and editing and the subconscious mind is solving all the creative problems.”
Where does this inner artistry come from? “I think you have to cultivate it,” he explains. “First you have to trust it and trust that it will come. It didn’t happen to me for forty years, but…one thing is, you have to have something to say. That’s why I never wrote what’s called seriously until later—because I didn’t think I had anything to say.”
Given that he has danced among a variety of formats from essay to screen play to stage play to novella, Martin has discovered that it serves him best to let the story guide him to where it belongs.
When Martin is writing prose he says, “It’s almost like a crashing wave. It’s in the ocean and it’s nothing, but then as it approaches the shore, it’s rising out of the water! It’s just this momentum you feel you’re heading toward—that there are problems to be solved. In writing Shop Girl, I actually felt that I didn’t know what I was going to write, and yet it felt like it was taking shape inside my head—as if there is this black hole where everything just filters through your consciousness and it takes shape.”
<div id="attachment_12270" style="width: 610px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><a href="https://shareasale.com/r.cfm?b=979306&amp;u=1321367&amp;m=62509&amp;urllink=&amp;afftrack=" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-12270" class="size-full wp-image-12270" src="http://creativescreenwriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/shopgirl-2.jpg" alt="Steve Martin as Ray Porter and Claire Danes as Mirabelle in Shop Girl" width="600" height="338" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/shopgirl-2.jpg 600w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/shopgirl-2-150x85.jpg 150w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/shopgirl-2-250x141.jpg 250w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/shopgirl-2-500x282.jpg 500w" sizes="(max-width: 600px) 100vw, 600px" /></a>Steve Martin as Ray Porter and Claire Danes as Mirabelle in Shop Girl</div>
On the other hand, he believes, “Screenplays are more scientific—they really do need a beginning, middle, and end; they really have to be concise. In terms of comic screenplays—for example Bowfinger—I visualized three or four funny scenes and I thought, I know what I want. I want three comic scenes in the movie that are funny because they have been set up, and I want one big comic scene at the end. And that’s the way I structured the screenplay.”
Perhaps the best way to describe Steve Martin’s agility with the written word is to note a playful romp that comprises approximately thirty seconds of a BBC documentary about the man.
The scene exists in one shot—a seemingly endless field of banana peels with Martin at the farthest end. Suddenly, he bursts into a joyful dance and maneuvers around the banana peels—without ever slipping. It serves as a metaphor for the playful effortlessness of his writing. With sincere humility, Martin suggests, “Everything I do starts with ineptness—and I have a lot of beginner’s luck—because you don’t know the rules yet. So what comes out is more precarious, more crazy, less normal, and sometimes it just works.”
<div id="attachment_12273" style="width: 610px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-12273" class="size-full wp-image-12273" src="http://creativescreenwriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Bowfinger.jpg" alt="Steve Martin as Robert K. Bowfinger and Eddie Murphy as Ramsey in Bowfinger" width="600" height="338" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Bowfinger.jpg 600w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Bowfinger-150x85.jpg 150w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Bowfinger-250x141.jpg 250w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Bowfinger-500x282.jpg 500w" sizes="(max-width: 600px) 100vw, 600px" />Steve Martin as Robert K. Bowfinger and Eddie Murphy as Ramsey in Bowfinger</div>
Although he goes to great lengths to refine the details of his writing, he insists: “I don’t feel like a perfectionist, but that’s the great difference between a screenplay and a novel. In a screenplay, the actors go in in the morning and say, ‘What if I said don’t go instead of why not stay?’ and I say, ‘Yeah, okay, I don’t care, whatever.’
In a play or a novel, everything matters—every sentence, every verb, every word—to me…I think, to the author—to know exactly why everything is there. It doesn’t mean you plan it out ahead of time. It means it came from a genuine place when you were writing it and it’s followed compellingly from the previous thing.”
Although he is famous for his extensive art collection, Martin claims that if he were given a full palette of colors he wouldn’t know what to paint. “I have no idea—it’s like a blank. It’s the one area I have absolutely no skill in. But I’d love the life of a painter—a master in big airy rooms, hefting paintings around and painting and meeting girls… I mean just the idea of saying, ‘All right, once you’ve got your clothes down… Great!’”
He once wrote an aborted essay for The New Yorker, called “Steve Martin, Nude Photographer.” It began with the sentence, “First, I’ll need a camera.”
<a href="https://shareasale.com/r.cfm?b=979306&amp;u=1321367&amp;m=62509&amp;urllink=&amp;afftrack="><img class="aligncenter wp-image-21391 size-full" src="https://creativescreenwriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/MARTIN-1-468x60-2x-Teaches-8298.jpg" alt="" width="936" height="120" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/MARTIN-1-468x60-2x-Teaches-8298.jpg 936w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/MARTIN-1-468x60-2x-Teaches-8298-150x19.jpg 150w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/MARTIN-1-468x60-2x-Teaches-8298-250x32.jpg 250w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/MARTIN-1-468x60-2x-Teaches-8298-768x98.jpg 768w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/MARTIN-1-468x60-2x-Teaches-8298-500x64.jpg 500w" sizes="(max-width: 936px) 100vw, 936px" /></a>
This article was first published in Creative Screenwriting Volume 9, #5, 2002.
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Will The Writers Guild Members Go On Strike?

“No art comes from the conscious mind.” Steve Martin

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