A friend of mine wrote a screenplay based on the book, Tuscaloosa, by W. Glasgow Phillips. The book was published in 1994 by the Plume imprint of Penguin and received massive literary accolades, went into translations, and got a film option. A writing grant was awarded to Phillips who spent the next two years at Stanford University, ostensibly writing.

Phillips was 24 years old at the time the book published and after his stint at Stanford and a short stay in Austin, Texas, he disappeared from the literary scene into the bowels of Hollywood. Never to be seen in literary circles again.

My friend let me read his Tuscaloosa screenplay, the first and only that I've read. I liked the script, so I bought and read the book. As writers, we could only hope that any of our stuff that goes to film, comes out the end hewing to our work as accurately.

The book's accolades were warranted. However good Phillips was at story telling, he was an even better wordcrafter. His writing style was just wonderful reading, laced with poignancy and humor.

My interest was peaked, and I did some research and found that he had a book copywrited and published this year, 2007. The Royal Nonesuch: Or what will I do when I grow up is a narrative nonfiction memoir detailing his life after Tuscaloosa.

When he sinks into Tinseltown, he becomes essentially a porno hustler and any other bottom feeding activity he can scrounge, including writing, directing and acting in The Sound of One Hand Clapping. In this, his first film, he fights off Kung Fu warriors, using only his genitalia.

He also wrote, directed and acted in a snuff film. Reading this, I was so repulsed I failed to remember I had suffered through Tarratino's Hostel a few weeks ago. The only difference being that Hostel was obviously a drama while Phillips' Human Number purported to be real. A first person POV snuff film, shot hand-held while the protagonist did his dastardly deeds, was to be screened on the Internet News Year's Eve, 2000. The idea being that interest from newscasts and Internet freaks would spread the word and force it into distribution a la Blair Witch Project. To his credit he scrapped the project after it was edited, when his dad objected to the idea. A major porno distributor also turned thumbs down, saying, "We wouldn't touch that."

Some of his socially unredeeming projects like CRAPtv, Orgazmo, and a few others are out there on the Internet. He also directed Undead 0r Alive, a zombie western that got it's premier in Austin's SxSW Festival, and by all accounts was so bad it never reached theaters again. It seems that it was neither horrorific nor funny.

At a point late in his memoir, I was completely bummed out by this loser whose every decision was a disaster - socially and economically. How could someone so talented be launched with a breakout debut novel and blow it so badly? But in the end I have to say his memoir is piercingly honest, humorous, if unapologetic. He loves and cares for his mother whose dying of cancer, and he's rid himself of much of his baggage.

He's worked as a writer for South Park and other TV stuff. So I feel a little more kindly toward him. His story might
make a better film than Tuscaloosa.

With all the struggling fiction writers out there dying for a break, it's hard to imagine why someone so talented doesn't cut out the crap and crank out some more great fiction. By the way, my friend is not a "wannabee" in Hollywood. He earns his keep as a film production designer. Any producers out there looking for a worthwhile property should chase down the screenplay, Tuscaloosa.