Claire Koonce grew up playing violin around cows in the Midwest. One day, she ran away to Hollywood with high hopes and no humility, and discovered (like everyone else) that this town is really fucking hard to navigate.  She’s always up for a glass of white wine and deeply appreciates philosophical conversations about how we’re changing the world with the movies and television we make.


Special thanks to Kristi Lang, who edits these posts to make sure they don’t sound like total rambling dementia. Just well-spelled rambling dementia.

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