What was your motivation to write Tell the Story at this point in your life?



I realized that my story could appeal to anyone who pursued a career not to make money, but to realize a dream. It requires a commitment that supersedes anything else in life, one that has driven me since my 20s. Once I realized I wanted to tell stories, that pursuit became my driving force, and film held the greatest potential as a medium. Movies are literature, music, performance, and visual art conjoined to create an immersive experience. Many people never find that passion. I was extremely lucky.

Among “Inside Hollywood” memoirs, what sets yours apart?



Tell the Story is only “inside” because it is the story of a working person in Hollywood. It’s not about fame, or even famous people, though they are a part of the story. It’s about the joys, disappointments, thrills, and heartbreaks of nearly reaching the summit in a career, yet not quite. My career is filmmaking, and this story is about getting oh, so close so many times, but close is where it ends, at least for now.

Over your career, you have written screenplays for five Oscar-winning directors. Is there one experience that stands apart from the others?



I wrote a screen adaptation of the Jim Harrison novel Sundog for Hal Ashby (Harold and Maude, Coming Home, Being There, The Last Detail). We had a breakfast meeting scheduled in New York on a Monday morning. Coming from Washington the day before, my Amtrak train collided with a Conrail freight, resulting in 164 injuries and 16 fatalities. Traumatized, I arrived in New York very late and called Hal to delay our meeting. He insisted on collecting me, and we drove aimlessly throughout the day and night. He hardly knew me at that point, but after I described what had happened, he didn’t want me to be alone. We shared personal stories, and personal history. He never told me he was dying of cancer. When I attended his memorial service, I discovered that others, mostly actors in his films, had similar experiences with Hal on set. He was more than a film director. His drive to be human exceeded his passion to create timeless art.

How would you define success in Hollywood? Do you feel you have been successful?



As I write in Tell the Story, every artist wants to be recognized for their work. Awards exist. They result in bigger paydays. But the artist’s touchstone is the acknowledgment of our peers. For everyone who makes sacrifices to pursue a career in the arts, if they can survive doing so, regardless of how comfortable a life they can maintain, they are successful. I also believe that in Hollywood, one should never take any level of success or failure too seriously. They both will come. I have survived, and the reward of simple peer recognition is always worth the emotional risk.

Portions of this Q&A were edited for clarity.