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wall.
    Between scenes, I’d go across the street to say hello and get to know all the dogs.
    There was this young man, Mitch, hired to escort me around the set, who would go over with me. One day he came in and said, “Betty, there’s a Newfoundland out there.”
    The way he tells it, at the word “Newfoundland,” I shot out of my chair like a bullet! Why not? I don’t get to smooch with a Newfie that often.
    So I got my dog fix every day.
    Now, that’s a happy set.

    With Jennifer Love Hewitt on the set of the Hallmark movie The Lost Valentine .
    HALLMARK/THE KOBAL COLLECTION

LETTERS

INTERVIEWS (REDFORD)
    I t is a real privilege to have been working in this business for so long, but there are a few built-in hazards—some of which can’t be avoided. Interviews, for example. There is no way to even estimate the number of them I have done over the years—we must be in the millions by now. This means I have answered the same questions, told the same anecdotes, wheezed on and on ad infinitum, again and again. The interviewers know the material better than I do, going in—and it’s tough to put a fresh spin on it.
    A few years ago I was asked one of the standard questions for probably the umpteenth time: “Is there anything you haven’t done in your career that you would still like to do?”
    Well, I had just seen Meryl Streep and Robert Redford in Out of Africa for the third time, so the answer was automatic: “Yes, Robert Redford.” And I was surprised to suddenly find it was true! Ever since, I have realized that that answer fits a variety of situations, and I have used it accordingly.
    I have never met him. I never want to meet him (I’d be too embarrassed after taking his name in vain so many times). However, what began as a crush on a movie star soon grew into genuine admiration. I became aware of his concern for the environment, his love of and respect for nature, his involvement with The Wilderness Society, and I maintain that the Robert Redford answer works for me in almost any department.
    Fast-forward to January 2010. A few days after I had received an unbelievable honor from the Screen Actors Guild, I brought the mail in one morning, as usual, and found the following letter.
    Dear Mrs. Ludden:
     
    Robert Redford has asked that I forward his congratulatory note to you on receiving the Lifetime Achievement Award from the Screen Actors Guild.
    Cheers to you!
     
    Sincerely,
    Donna Kail
    Assistant to Robert Redford
    More than a note, the congratulation consisted of a delightful, funny six-stanza poem that began with “Dear Betty” and ended with “Congratulations, Robert.”
    By now I don’t have to tell you how my mind was blown. Of course, my first reaction was that someone was putting me on, but the stationery was authentic, and on looking further, I found a great picture of himself, signed “Guess who? Robert Redford.”
    Finally, I found the courage to write him a thank-you and said I couldn’t promise to stop using his name—unless he didn’t find it funny.
    I can only say that Robert Redford is one class act.
     
     
    P.S. I know you would love to hear the poem. Sorry.

    © BETTMANN/CORBIS

    With Bandit, Dancer, and Stormy.
    ZUMA PRESS/NEWSCOM

WRITER’S BLOCK
    C ertain common clichés maintain that most men love hardware stores, just as women dote on shoe stores. I have no idea how accurate that is, because, personally, I am strange for stationery stores. Not for the fancy writing paper—it’s those tablets and packs of lined three-hole notebook pages and those packs of typing paper that turn me on. I even buy those things when I go to the grocery store, whether I need them or not.
    Let’s say I am in the middle of a writing project and have, perhaps, hit a slow spot. Bringing in this stuff can recharge the battery. Or, if I am not in the middle of a writing project, it can often cause me to start one.
    Why? I have no idea, but it has been that way all my life—even back to my school