The scene opens with the haggard writer hunched over a dilapidated Underwood, struggling to meet his midnight deadline. The air is stale and thick with cigarette smoke and there’s an empty bottle of scotch lying on the floor. By the smell of things, it’s obvious he hasn’t slept, eaten or washed his clothes in over a week. That was the Hollywood image of writers before the information highway arrived in the early 1990s. Since then, the business of writing has changed in more ways than anyone could have possibly imagined in 1939. These days, a writer’s job doesn’t end when they drop their query down the out-bound chute at the…