It happened one late October.  This past October, in fact.  It was less than a week to Halloween, but the only scary thing in my Massachusetts home that rainy afternoon was the cowering to liberalism coming from the speaker on my phone. I am a semi-screenwriter, an unproduced screenwriter – to use the parlance of another community of "writers,"  a "toy."  I have written a handful of screenplays and a few TV pilots, and it was one of those pilots that landed me my manager.  We will call him "B.P."  BP works at the granddaddy of all Hollywood management firms.  Anyone remotely familiar with the industry will know exactly which firm of which I speak. I had known my now ex-manager through a friend, also his now ex-client, and we even knew many of the same people in Boston, as B.P. is an Emerson alumnus and was a student there while I was at Northeastern.  What finally brought us together was a sitcom pilot I...(Read Full Post)