On awards for creativity

When I was about eight I entered a creative writing competition.

It was the bang that started the race.

Today, I live in the Hollywood hills. When I’m not cruising down Mulholland Drive in my DeTomaso Pantera, I’m probably cruising downtown on my Pegoretti Duende, or cruising up to Mavericks on Harvey Weinstein’s yacht to drop into the green room with Paul Schrader.*

Not really.

The competition wasn’t run by Paramount, or Disney. It was run by the National Mushroom Marketing Board.

And I didn’t win it – I was just highly commended. But I did have to get up in front of a large group of indifferent people who didn’t know what I had done, to receive a piece of paper from someone more senior.

Weird.

*Paul Schrader surfs, right?

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