One Hollywood writer throws punches at the gym to vent artistic frustration while a labor strike keeps him from working.
Another jams with his rock band and scouts the picket lines for a potential bride. A third devoted his energy to running the New York City marathon and cleaning out his garage. Others are blogging, making short strike films for the Web, dabbling in poetry or working on graphic novels to fill the void.
When your job is not just a paycheck but a compulsion, where do you direct the creative juices during what may amount to a prolonged period of mandatory writer's block?
"I'm used to writing 10 pages a day. It's hard not to write," said "Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo" writer Harris Goldberg. "It's like having a gorgeous girl in your house, but you can't touch her. `Sorry honey, we really can't hold hands.'"
The Writers Guild of America went on strike over DVD payments and revenues from programming distributed on the Internet, instructing its 12,000 members to stop all writing for the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers.
But like all artists, writers chose their line of work out of a passion to create, so sooner or later, they'll need to put that energy somewhere.
"As a writer, this is what you do. You have no other way to truly express yourself," said screenwriter John Ridley, whose credits include "Undercover Brother." "You may be able to go to cocktail parties and talk and talk and talk, but it's not the same as writing."
Ridley counts himself lucky. Before the strike, he finished the screenplay for "L.A. Riots" for Spike Lee and now has extensive research to do for a film on the Tuskegee airmen for George Lucas, plus a series of graphic novels to begin along with minor editing on a just-completed novel.
Like many writers, Ridley also is blogging online about the strike.
Writing partners Gregg Rossen and Brian Sawyer, who had been working on a sitcom pilot for Fox when the strike hit, directed a short YouTube video featuring friends and colleagues passing the strike in fictionally funny ways.
"Liar Liar" screenwriter Paul Guay is shown working in a men's store and deceptively assuring a customer how great he looks in a sport coat. "Sahara" writer Tom Donnelly mans a fast-food counter, advising a diner who orders a cheeseburger and fries that he should "go more archetype instead of stereotype." "Sweet Home Alabama" writer Doug Eboch hits on a cute woman by asking, "Hey, what's your back story?"
"I don't think anybody is happy about not being able to write," Sawyer said. "I think that's going to be an issue, especially if it's a long strike. Where does one channel creative energy? As the months unfold, there may be a lot of funny new hobbies or musical instruments being taken up."
Sawyer ran the New York marathon the day before the strike started. He and his wife, also a screenwriter, reorganized their garage, and he said that for the holidays, their home "will be more decorated than any other house in the neighborhood."
Collaborator Rossen said he and Sawyer might do more short Web films, possibly a sequel spoofing what studio executives are up to during the strike.
"Let's face it. They're not going to have anything to do. As long as we're not working, they're not working," Rossen said. "Flipping burgers may be just as much of a career option for the development people."
"Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo" writer David Garrett, who does a "Midnight Cowboy" parody pretending to be a male prostitute in Rossen and Sawyer's video, said he burns off creative frustrations at a boxing club where he spars.
"It's good to have something to punch. Something I can legally punch," said Garrett, who added that the art of striking itself needs to be writers' main creative outlet. "Every hour we have we should spend out here picketing and spreading the message, rather than working on scripts."
Guay has tried his hand at poetry in the past and said he might take up that pastime again to keep the words flowing.
"It's a wonderful occupation that doesn't bring in quite as much income as screenwriting," said Guay, who also has a business counseling novice screenwriters. "I've put together a couple of poetry collections for my satisfaction and my friends' punishment, so I may put together another."
With the walkout just days old, the strike is the main preoccupation, with guild members devoting 20 hours a week on picket lines. If it drags on for months, writers figure they'll eventually need to get back to some form of storytelling.
"At some point, everyone will start working on their novel," said David Kreizman, head writer for the soap opera "Guiding Light."
Chris Mundy, co-executive producer of the crime drama "Criminal Minds," already has started.
"It's fun to write prose again," Mundy said. "But I'd rather be back at work with a fair deal than have time to write a novel."
With thousands of wordsmiths picketing, you might expect a lot of clever slogans, signs and chants. The picket lines have been sober-minded and businesslike, though.
Sawyer heard one striker yelling out to passing cars, "Honk if you love nuanced characters," but most chants have been commonplace patter such as "On strike, shut 'em down, Hollywood's a union town" or "Hey hey, ho ho, union-busting has to go."
In a blog on the Huffington Post, Jamie Lee Curtis sided strongly with writers but playfully chided them for dull chants.
"Will writing a better slogan constitute scabbing? I hope not," Curtis wrote. "The best way to get the message across is to write a better message. Good luck, writers."
Not all writers have their complete attention on striking. Besides jamming with his band, a group called Oliver Twist in which he plays guitar, Goldberg said he's funneling some creativity into scoping out a future wife on the picket lines.
"I've eyed a few," Goldberg said. "But it's hard to throw on the charm while you're holding a picket sign."
