Dreamsongs - Volume II Read Free

hell
of a lot older than I think, because sometimes when I mention that I worked on The
Twilight Zone, I get the response, ‘Oh, I loved that show. What was it like
to work with Rod Sterling?’ (The clueless inevitably drop a ‘t’ into Rod
Serling’s name.)
     
    I loved that show
too, but sad to say I never worked with Rod Sterling, or even Rod Serling. I
did, however, work with Phil DeGuere, Jim Crocker, Alan Brennert, Rockne S. O’Bannon,
and Michael Cassutt, as well as a host of terrific actors and directors, on the
short-lived and much-lamented Twilight Zone revival of 1985-87. Call it
TZ-2. (There have been two more incarnations since, TZ-3 and TZ-4 , but
we prefer not to talk about them in polite company.)
     
    It was The
Armageddon Rag that sent me off to The Twilight Zone. Published by
Poseidon Press in 1983, the Rag was supposed to be the breakout novel
that would transform me into a bestselling author. I was proud of the book, and
my agent and my editor were high on it as well. Poseidon paid me a whopping big
advance for the rights, and I went right out and bought a larger house.
     
    The Rag received
some wonderful reviews. It was nominated for the World Fantasy Award, losing
out to John M. Ford’s superb The Dragon Waiting. And it died the death.
It had all the hallmarks of a big bestseller save one. No one bought it. Far
from building on the success of Fevre Dream, it sold badly in hardcover
and miserably in paperback. The full extent of the disaster was not brought
home to me until 1985, when Kirby tried to sell my unfinished fifth novel, Black
and White and Red All Over, and found that neither Poseidon nor any other
publisher was willing to make an offer.
     
    Yet even as The
Armageddon Rag slammed one door shut behind me, it was opening another.
Dismal though its sales had been, the Rag did have its ardent fans. One
was Phil DeGuere, the creator and executive producer of the hit television
series Simon & Simon. DeGuere was a huge fan of rock music,
especially the Grateful Dead. When our mutual agent Marvin Moss showed him my
book, Phil saw a feature film in it, and optioned the movie rights. He intended
to write and direct the film himself, and to shoot the huge concert sequences
at Grateful Dead shows.
     
    I’d sold other film
options previously. My usual involvement was limited to signing the contract
and cashing the check. Phil DeGuere was different. The ink was hardly dry on
the deal before he flew me out to L.A. and put me up at a hotel for several
days, so we could talk about the book and how best to adapt it. Phil went on to
write several drafts of the screenplay, but was never able to get a studio to
bite for the financing. No movie was made. During the course of this, however,
he and I got to know each other a bit... enough so that, when he decided to
revive The Twilight Zone for CBS in 1985, Phil phoned to ask me if I
would like to try a script.
     
    Surprisingly, I did
not immediately leap at the chance. I had been weaned on television, sure, but
I’d never written for it, had never wanted to write for it, knew nothing
about scriptwriting, had never even seen a screenplay or a teleplay. Besides,
all you ever heard about writing for Hollywood was the horror stories. I’d read
Harlan Ellison’s Glass Teat, after all. I’d even read The Other Glass
Teat. I knew how crazy it was out there.
     
    On the other hand,
I liked Phil and respected him, and he had Alan Brennert on his staff, another
writer whose work I had admired. DeGuere had brought Harlan Ellison aboard as
well, as a writer and consultant. Maybe this new Twilight Zone would be
different. And if truth be told, I needed the money. At the time I was madly
writing Haviland Tuf stories to fill out Tuf Voyaging and keep my
mortgage paid, but Black and White and Red All Over still had not sold,
and my career as a novelist lay in ruins. I was still hesitating when Phil
cinched the deal by promising my lady Parris backstage passes to all