One of my favorite moments in the ABC series “Modern Family,” is when Phil Dunphy, played by Ty Burrell, is trying to prove what a cool dad he is by knowing the texting shortcuts used by his teenage daughter. He actually does get a few right, but when he gets to WTF, he gets it embarrassingly wrong. It’s a classic. And it got me thinking: how cool do older writers have to be to prove we’re still worthy of staying in the game? Do we have to know what all the acronyms stand for? Do we have to be on Facebook? Well, a lot of us actually are on Facebook – and find it to be not only fun, but a great way to stay in touch with people and to re-discover old friends we thought had disappeared from our lives forever. But what does it really mean to be in touch or out of touch and still be a writer? Does it matter if you want to write a movie or create a TV series? What’s the truth about whether we get better or worse as writers over time?

Some of the greatest writers in history wrote their greatest works as young men and women. And some, like Philip Roth, keep writing well and at an astonishing pace as they approach eighty. Do we peak as screenwriters in our thirties and forties? ICBMW (I could be wrong) – but I think not. There’s no question, of course, that certain things do change over time. Here are some of the things that happen when you’ve been in this business for many years: your memory goes a little. You contemplate a face lift. You have less patience for the stupidity of script notes by people who need to justify their jobs. You finally realize that your agent is NOT making calls on your behalf trying to get you work. You look desperately for hobbies that could possibly lead to another career besides writing – and then you realize, there IS no better career than writing because you love it more than anything. You finally come to terms with the fact that you may not ever create a series better than “The Sopranos.” NITL (not in this lifetime) And finally you’re surprised to discover that as a former pacifist who marched for peace during the Vietnam War, you have murderous feelings toward younger writers who not only get lots of work but are also good-looking. And finally, you spend time writing articles like this one when you should be working on the pilot that could get you lots of money if only your agent would read it.

And here are some of the other things that happen: in spite of the fact that you’re viewed less enthusiastically because of your age, your skill as a writer has increased dramatically since the days when you were getting more work. The ideas that are supposedly drying up emerge even more quickly – perhaps because there’s an urgency about the amount of time you have left. You know you’re mortal. It will end one day – and yet somehow your brain won’t let go of the push to create. There’s not enough time to write all the ideas that keep exploding out of your head.

This is a time in life when our parents die, things get messy and we know we’re next in line. In case you want to stop reading now because you think I’ll get more morbid, you can relax. I won’t. This is actually an exciting time in one’s life. The approaching end creates an element of danger that mixes things up a bit. We’re smarter. We’re wiser. We know for sure that time MFSB (moves faster than a speeding bullet.) And that creates an urgency and precision in our work. DAMHIKT (Don’t ask me how I know that). I just do.

I’ve been teaching screenwriting for close to ten years. Teaching college students how to write for the screen has taught me more about making my scripts better than any job I ever got. It’s been miraculous. Now I write the way I always wanted to. Now is when I’m producing my best work. I remember many years ago, when a director friend said to me that I was too cautious in my writing, afraid to explore my dark side. I’m not afraid anymore. I’m old enough that my dark side doesn’t scare me. It beckons and I say yes.

My son, who is sixteen, thinks I’m the anti-christ of un-cool. To him, most of what I say is worthy of a roll of the eyes. I like to view him as the familial embodiment of development executives. If I can make it through his wall of derision, do you really think a measly TV exec can break me down? OMG (oh my god) — NFW (no fucking way), and I mean it. I’m still a BAC. (bad-ass chick)

When I asked David Milch a long time ago at a lecture he was giving about his strategy for writing such lean, precise dialogue, he said: “My first drafts are very lean and then I cut.” I always remember that. There’s a certain shortcut that comes with age that allows you to cut the bullshit –- trim the fat. We’ve lost some patience and want to get to the heart of it before it’s too late. That’s a good quality for writing dialogue. Get to the point. Be precise about what the conflict is in a scene and stay on it. That comes with experience – with age. Yes – age. AWHFY (Are we having fun yet?)

So, would I be able to write a series for the CW about high school students? Of course. Being a screenwriter is in many ways like being an actor. You imitate other people’s voices. You put yourself in the skin of another character and create their personality, their way of seeing the world. You grow a new skin every time you create another person. Even if I preferred to write about people more like me (which I do) and didn’t actually want to write about high school students – I could still find their voices if I had to. We’re chameleons. We do some things better than others, have our favorite genres to write, of course, but when it comes to telling a compelling story, that’s a skill, whether the character is fourteen or ninety two. And after all these years, we’ve honed our craft. We’re good at it. We’re not BBR (burned beyond repair).

So, IYKWIMAITYD – (if you know what I mean and I think you do) – don’t count us out. Because IMPOV (in my point of view), we’re better than ever. Still excited by ideas, skilled and experienced. Do you think we’re finished? ITSFWI (if the shoe fits wear it). But you’d be wrong. Maybe we take Lipitor, maybe my son knows more acronyms than I do, but I sure do understand three act structure. So, all of you out there who can relate to this: GBTW (Get back to work).

Okay, so you still think I’m too old? TABOOMA (take a bite out of my ass). How old am I? NOYB. (None of your business) NISM (Need I say more?) GGN (Gotta go now) BYN (Bye for now).

XOXO (hugs and kisses),
Julie