by Jeff Fisher I arrived in Los Angeles the way most people do: broke, optimistic, and dangerously underinformed. I had two phone numbers in my wallet. One belonged to a game show publicist whose Dad played poker once a week with my Dad back in South Florida. The other was a young associate producer I'd met on a show I'd PA'd on— a warm, funny young woman that might best be described as a Long Island Princess with absolutely zero interest in sugarcoating anything. She picked

by Jeff Fisher My living room looked like the inside of a UPS truck. Movers were coming Tuesday. I was leaving for a shoot in Chicago on Wednesday — a thriller that had its own set of complications, including the fact that until very recently, it had a different director. This job came in the middle of moving and I had a lot of packing to do. And at the moment, plenty of production hurdles I needed to help solve. Meanwhile, a friend of mine went out to dinner on a Friday nigh

How to get inspiration from the things that scare you the most.