Computer Bulletin Board Is Writers’ Round Table in ‘90s : Networks: An electronic communication program lets screenwriters share ideas, information and gossip from the comfort of their own keyboards.

When Los Angeles screenwriter and novelist David Freeman wants to relax at the end of his work day, he doesn’t leave the house or even get up from his computer terminal: He hits a few keys and is instantly among friends.

He can discuss the cocaine trial of Washington Mayor Marion Barry or the crime wave by New York’s Zodiac killer, indulge in shoptalk about $3-million screenplays, tell a joke, give advice, gossip or simply sound off.

In another place, at another time, Freeman might have strolled down to the local tavern, bumping into friends and acquaintances along the way. Instead, his fingers do the walking--and talking. He has become a denizen of a 1990s-style electronic watering hole--a bulletin board system that links more than 800 screenwriters throughout Southern California, many of whom had previously made contact only on picket lines.

Some of the writers work at television and movie studios, but many toil in solitude, with scant nourishment for their lively minds. In a city where both writers’ hangouts and serendipitous encounters are rare, the Writers Guild-sponsored bulletin board provides an opportunity for intellectual stimulation and an outlet for venting frustrations about The Industry.

“You can’t overemphasize the sense of connection it has given to people who have traditionally felt isolated,” said Freeman, the author of “A Hollywood Education.” “All screenwriters are in this nutty dance together, but we didn’t have this town pub we could go to. This is a big change.”

Across the nation, the rapidly proliferating bulletin board phenomenon has spawned anywhere from 40,000 to 60,000 public and private systems, depending on which computer industry expert you ask. Like most of these boards, the Writers Guild of America West system-- available free of charge to any of the 7,500 members with a computer and a modem--provides announcements and services, including the equivalent of classified advertising. Born just before the five-month guild strike in 1988, the system was an invaluable means of keeping members up to speed, according to Mark Evanier, its co-founder and chief operator.

As many as 500 writers log onto the bulletin board on a regular basis, with 11 p.m. to 1 a.m. the most popular time slot, Evanier said. There are those who ritualistically turn to the bulletin board before they begin working. Some enter messages in the middle of the night. Others come on-line whenever they get writer’s block. Traffic has become so heavy that the guild plans to add seven phone lines to the existing nine.

Some writers use the board to transfer scripts to one another or send private messages; others take advantage of the networking that is a staple of other bulletin boards. Peter Lake, for example, found a writing partner “as well as the woman I’m dating” through the board.

But the writers’ board is not just about exchanging information. It offers writers a chance to express themselves on more than two dozen subjects--from restaurants to philosophy and theology to parenting to freedom of expression. There is a “forum” for discussing relationships and another labeled “rants and raves.” Each has a moderator who checks for libel and makes sure that the “conversations” don’t veer too far off track.

In recent days, writers have schmoozed about whether God exists and what makes Anne Tyler a great novelist. They have joked about the Nixon library, groused about malathion spraying, and reminisced about Mitch Snyder, the late advocate for the homeless.

Richard Manning, a regular user, said the bulletin board was “almost a natural outgrowth” of the writer’s modus operandi. “We communicate best by typing words on a screen,” he said.

Much of the incessant chatter is clever but would hardly qualify as sparkling repartee. “It’s not your vision of what it must have been like to sit around the round-table at the Algonquin,” said Roger L. Simon, author of “The Big Fix.” “Most of the members of the guild are television writers.”

What makes the writers’ board unique is the special nature of their profession--what Evanier, who writes “Garfield & Friends” and other cartoon shows, describes as “shared suffering.”

For the lucky few, writing can be enormously lucrative, but at any given time, about half of all guild members are out of work, according to spokeswoman Cheryl Rhoden. Of those working in 1987, the median income was $50,000. Five percent earned over $250,000. Many make a handsome living but never see their work produced.

The indignities writers are forced to endure--especially at story meetings with movie studio executives--are legendary. “Being a writer gives you a sense of power. You have total control over your characters,” said Marshall Goldberg, a television writer-producer who has also authored a screenplay. “All of a sudden you go into a meeting . . . and there’s this dramatic transition you have to make--from absolute power to impotence.”

Impotence of this sort is a favorite bulletin board theme, most vividly conveyed through a forum called “Hollywood Anecdotes,” where one writer recently recounted how he sought revenge after his “cerebral” script was ruined. He had a funeral wreath delivered to the producer along with a huge banner carrying the name of the show and the message, “Rest in Pieces.” To his amazement, the producer loved the wreath. “Some producers can’t even be insulted,” the writer complained.

Telling such stories has a salutary effect, said television writer-producer Tom Greene. “It’s the cheapest therapy in the world. You find out, ‘Gee, I’m not alone. There are other people out there going through the same thing.’ ”

Despite the solidarity, rancorous personal squabbles have occasionally erupted on the board--usually between people who have had previous business dealings, according to Evanier. (No messages can be anonymous.)

“On an average day,” said screenwriter and novelist J. Michael Straczynski, the bulletin board “is like a pleasant bar, where you’re sitting on the terrace enjoying your drink. But every once in a while, someone throws a punch, and it gets pretty bloody.”

In a business where talent is plentiful but jobs are scarce, backbiting and jealousy are endemic. Nevertheless, writers say a surprising amount of cooperation takes place on the board.

A category called “Ask a Writer” enables users to bypass the library and pose research questions to one another: “What was the standard police-issue side arm in 1967?” “If a Catholic woman were to divorce her husband, would she automatically be excommunicated from the church?” “How does a bank vault work?’ One helpful writer filled the screen five times answering the question, “What subjects would have been covered in a sixth-grade classroom in the 1950s?”

“You name any topic in the universe; someone knows about it,” said Christy Marx, who calls the board almost nightly from her home near Mariposa.

Perhaps inevitably, the bulletin board has also lured some writers away from their computer terminals for interaction of a more traditional kind. Some meet once a month for dinner. Lake, moderator of the board’s science forum, has organized field trips; the next destination is the nuclear facility at San Onofre.

Even with its built-in limitations, the bulletin board, by all accounts, is habit-forming. “It’s a great excuse not to write,” said writer-producer Terry Curtis Fox. Like some of his fellow writers, Manning has been known to spend as many as three hours a day on the board--the maximum allowed. “I was nearing addiction for a while,” said Manning, who has cut down to 45 minutes.