One of the impediments to completing my Writers Guide to Hollywood Producers, Directors and Screenwriters Agents ( Prima Publishing), was a producer whom I met when he headed up a production company in Beverly Hills, one backed by a showbiz billionaire. The producer optioned three of my young adult books for development as movies or a TV show, and I thought I was right around the corner from Easy Street.

As is more normal than not in Tinseltown, the gods were not yet ready to smile. The producer had a disagreement with the billionaire, the production company fell apart, and my option money was all I ever saw. Shortly after that, the producers spur of the moment, on the set marriage to a woman hed been living with fell apart, and he subsequently lost his new ranch. Nevertheless, I thought the producer, who had done several TV movies while running the production company, would bounce back immediately and we would make my project elsewhere.

That didnt happen, but the producer and I became close friends. His uncle, a legendary star I admired, read a feature script of mine that the producer admired, and I thought I was about to make a film with one of my Hollywood heroes. Unfortunately, that didnt happen, either, although I didnt quite understand why. Lots of top names (all whom the uncle/legend had done films with) were bandied about as possibly being interested, but nothing ever came to fruition.

Undaunted, and accustomed to the Hollywood roller-coaster ride, I began lining up pitch meetings for the producer and I with my contacts. He had a recognizable name and was a competent filmmaker, so it made sense. We got close at MGM and with a major feature producer, but no cigar. When I thought wed made the perfect pitch at Dreamworks, the producer described why wed struck out. I felt I was learning a Hollywood language Id never known.

Finally, though, the deadline for my Writers Guide drew all too near. I realized that spending hours every day with my producer friend was not paying the bills, and so I told him to go away while I got my book written. Id also discovered that, although he represented himself as a writer who had sold a script once for a million dollars (I never learned what), his writing was sixth grade level, at best. All our pitches leaned heavily on my talents and properties. Which would have been fine, had any of his contacts led to a deal.

Months went by before I spoke to the producer again, and when I called him I learned that hed met a beautiful girl and was getting married. My wife and I attended the wedding, and I thought everything was on the upswing for a guy I didnt quite trust but whose company I enjoyed.

Always one to put people together for their mutual benefit, I introduced my producer friend to another producer, an Emmy and Cable Ace award winner who wanted desperately to direct my script that the Hollywood legend uncle had admired. In short order, the two producers hooked up, and I heard stories of a series sale to Showtime, a number of Kellys coffee franchises, a possible co-presidency at a major production company, and real estate deals galore from the original producer. I heard about Texas financiers who were going to fund my feature. But nothing ever quite materialized; it just sounded very good.

My up-and-down producer friend had been at me continually during our runaround pitching days to write a script based on an idea of his, inspired by a hit soul tune from the 1970s. I never quite shared his vision, I didnt want to write a spec script on it, and he finally stopped mentioning the idea.

On July 4th, my producer friend committed suicide. In a permanent solution to a temporary problem, he bailed out of a world of trouble. I subsequently learned that the script based on his aforementioned idea had been written by another writer, a cast had been assembled and rehearsed, the producers beautiful wife was set to star, and everyone expected that shooting was imminent. One week before filming was to start, with no money in the bank, the producer decided he could not take the pressure any more.

Or so I assume. Probably none of us will ever know why he did it.

And now the irony. In gathering around the widow to console her, everyone decided the best thing we could do would be to make the film, anyway. The award-winning producer Id introduced to my late friend offered to pick up the pieces, and quickly discovered that the Texas financiers did indeed want to finance the project. All the actors, including a sitcom star, wanted to go ahead. A week later, the producer who survived called me in to rewrite and improve the script. I suggested changes that everyone liked, and the project is moving forward and will probably be made.

Ive been in Hollywood 20 years. This is not the first suicide Ive suffered through. If youve not been there (and I hope you never are), just know that the survivors are the ones who hurt the most, because they walk around for weeks, months, sometimes years wondering - if Id only done... what if Id...etc. In the long run, as I weighed the morality of the situation, whether it was right for me to come onboard, or for the others to circle the wagons and fight the good fight, I decided we should, indeed. After all, its only a movie.

Unfortunately, one man forgot that. For how long, I dont know. Maybe Ill never know. It was just long enough to load the final reel, and leave the theater before the audience could comment. And its a dirty rotten shame. Hollywood has never been more important than life, and never will be. If it ever seems that way for me, Ill be checking out of the Hotel California, but I wont be resigning from Life.

THE END