David Wolstencroft moved from London to Los Angeles in November, and not only so he could rise each morning for a game of tennis--though there is that, and that might have been good enough. He made the trip, which is thus far temporary but may well prove permanent, for the same reason offered by the other 83.3 percent who light out for the Western territories: to find work in the dream factory, where entertainment is mass-manufactured. Unlike most who make the journey, Wolstencroft does not arrive with a blank résumé and an empty suitcase; indeed, he landed on these shores, pulled from his valise a novel about espionage and sold it before he'd recovered from jet lag. He has also made television shows in England, where they have been well-received and much honored. But over here, all that means is when he meets with network executives, they treat him very much like a child who's made a finger-painting for the refrigerator--a little pat on... More >>>