The Platypus Theory.

Television. Novels. Radio. Movies. Print. Theatre plays. Outdoor. Interactive. Text messages. Emails. Blogs. Phone videos.

Used to be, when you told someone you were a writer, they assumed you meant something like "a person who puts words on a page."

And it was assumed that a page - a piece of paper - was also going to be the place where those words would be consumed for comprehension by someone called a reader.

I don't have to tell you, those were the good old days.

Or at least, the old days.

Nowadays, a writer tends to put words on a glowing screen first and often those words never even get close to paper.

That's why, driving around LA, talking to people about what I do and want to do and what they need and where they think it's all going, I've decided I'm a platypus.

Yes, a platypus.

That's right, I'm a web-footed, egg-laying, duck-billed, part reptile/part mammal animal that lives half on land, half in the water.

In short, an ass-ugly creature that sits at the crossroads of evolution when it comes to word-work.

I'm a playwright in TV-Land. An ad guy in Hollywood. A story teller in a nation of non-reading, reality TV watching people.

Of course, it might be argued that I should specialize in one thing or another, but, I don't believe survival lies in that direction.

Which is why the platypus is so special. See, the platypus found that there wasn't enough food in any one spot alone for it to make it. So there was only one thing it could do: Adapt to fit in all the environments.

It makes for a weird business card, all right.

Christ. A platypus. A fucking platypus.