,My name is Richard Oshen. I’m a screenwriter and children’s book author who loves crafting stories that spark young imaginations.
My life has been a whirlwind of experiences, from the bright lights of concerts, film, and television to the quiet woods of Southern California, and all that’s in between. Those experiences have shaped not just my stories but who I am as a write
I am writing this from a cozy cabin in the San Bernardino National Forest – a world away from the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles, where I spent years working in the entertainment industry. But both places have profoundly influenced my creative journey.. You may be wondering how I got here. Let me tell you a story.
Growing up in the suburbs of New York City, I was fortunate to see a lot of Broadway Shows. My grandmother Ann loved the theatre; her sister Francis was a Zigfield Girl, back in those early halcyon days of vaudeville. Grandma Ann would often take my brother Jeff and I to Saturday Matinees. We saw incredible original cast productions, like Peter Pan starring Julie Andrews, The King and I starring Yul Brenner, Man of La Mancha with Richard Kiley, South Pacific, Oklahoma, The Nutcracker and numerous Easter and Christmas pageants at Radio City Music Hall. What a magical time it was!
Want to know something funny? While everyone else’s eyes were glued to the stage, I was looking around awe-struck by the ever-changing lights high up in the theatre. For half the show, I watched the performance and for the other half I watched the lights. The performances were great, but I was mesmerized by the lighting.
That fascination led me to study theatrical design and stage lighting at Boston University. I had a choice between Yale and BU but chose Boston for another reason – It had an awesome music scene.
As part of the design curriculum, I was required to work on productions for course credit. As luck would have it, I was assigned as a spotlight operator at a theatre where a local band was performing in concert. The local band was Aerosmith. This auspicious event was my first introduction to the band. A short time later I became their first lighting designer. I redesigned the band’s backdrop and in the process created their art nouveau logo. I was also kinda balancing school and regional New England gigs.
But I couldn’t tour nationally with Aerosmith and go to college at the same time, so I did the only sensible thing I could think of at the time – I dropped out of college. To alleviate my parents’ dismay, I reasoned that if the purpose of college was to find work in one’s chosen field, I was ahead of the curve.
After my stint with Aerosmith, I went on to design lighting for some notorious rock acts: Ted Nugent, Boston, Sammy Hagar, The Sweet, Sly and the Family Stone, Parliament Funkadelic, the rock opera Tommy and others. After years of touring, I developed a strong urge to stay in one place for more than a couple of days.
Hollywood was on the verge of the Video Revolution when I landed in the heart of the film and television industry in the early 80’s. I worked as a lighting Designer on films like Spinal Tap, Blue Chips and Seven Days and lit major television and cable shows as a director of photography for MTV, VH-1, Nickelodeon, HBO, Showtime and broadcast networks.
One day, in the middle of prepping a lighting rig for yet another show, I had a quiet epiphany—like a spotlight turning inward. I realized I wasn’t just meant to light stages for other people’s stories… I was meant to tell my own. After a lifetime in showbiz, working behind the scenes, something deeper was calling. It was time to shift from lighting others’ moments to writing my own—time to step out of the wings and onto the page. That was the moment I truly began living my purpose.
Here’s a rewritten version that matches the tone and voice of your earlier “turning point” paragraph—reflective, personal, and inviting:
They say “write what you know.” For me, that meant animals. I grew up around them, connected to them in a way I didn’t fully understand until later.
I took a class on animal communication—part curiosity, part calling—and it led to an unexpected partnership. Together, we started a small rescue that served the Westside of L.A. While saving animals, I was also taking online writing courses, slowly building a new kind of life—one story, one rescue, one quiet revelation at a time.
Then came the plot twist.
I was renting a garage conversion when the property was suddenly sold. It seemed that overnight, rent prices shot through the roof, and I had no choice but to move far outside the city.
At the time, it felt like a setback. But I’ve learned that what feels like an ending is often just the beginning in disguise. When the path disappears, miracles have a way of showing up. Not only do they happen—they’re usually better than anything we could’ve imagined.
Thanks for stopping by my writing home. I hope you enjoy your visit and come back soon.
Feel free to drop a note through the contact form—I’d love to stay connected.
Richard