Back to School
September 25, 2007
Images inspire me. I hear stories in the really good ones. Combined with something brilliant written on top of them, some images can catapult me into another dimension. That Warhol poster to your left, one that any college freshman can purchase at online poster pushers like this one, may scream with pretension and pat art philosophy but damn it’s working for me. The instant I saw it, my screenwriting brain shifted gears. And on the very same page that I found this print I found another, that lead me to a wiki page, that lead me to another wiki page, and finally another. And on that last page I read something that helped me come up with the plot to an idea that has been simmering in my brain pan for a few weeks now. It’s fucking ace, I think. I have to, you see, or I won’t dedicate three months of my life to it. Of course, that old problem of having to decide on my next project (now among 3 candidates instead of 2) while I wait for signs of life after sending out my last (40+ agencies, 2 contests) is back with a vengeance, but I’m inspired, man. Truly. What a feeling.
I want to share the idea so badly, too. Not just because I like it so much, but also for those relentlessly dull inspiration killers called “practical reasons”. The truth is, I need to do some more research, particularly on Paris at the turn of the 20th century, and even more specifically, the caste structure that existed between the wealthy art world and the poor and affected that were often their inspirations. Therein already lies so much inherent conflict, yet conflict swaddled in a subtle and genteel passion ready to explode at any minute. Dramatic tension abounds, sure, but what does this have to do with horror or fantasy or science fiction? Stay with me, I’m getting there.
Enter a struggling sportswriter (I see Paul Giamatti) with a bad horseshoe ’round his neck sent over from the States by a two-bit art rag to cover an “important” event. Of course, he doesn’t want to be there but it’s an opportunity for some scratch and street cred that his wallet and career desperately needs. Add some intrigue involving a supposedly “innocuous” detail about a painting that’s been known for ages, create a myth behind it, and add a series of grisly murders, committed by someone – or perhaps something – that our reporter gets caught up in accidentally. Before you know it, he’s sucked into some otherworldly intrigue that threatens to destroy his relationship with the very crowd that has begun to embrace him, and could easily make or break him. Only, he has no choice but to go along with the murderer’s plans of notoriety, you see, or he could end up someone else’s grisly story.
He wanted a big game, and he got one.
If you’ve been reading my blog, or have read back just now, you’ll recognize this story as something of a more fleshed out version of an idea that I toyed with at the close of one of my entries called The Unveiling. And you may or may not respond to the vague smattering of kernels I’ve offered here. Sure, I could divulge some more (I’m thinking spooky overall with splashes of artful gore), but with the little career stuff I have hanging in the balance right now, I’d rather not come off as the guy who gives away too much just yet. Do I think someone out there will happen upon scottStories and be so enthralled by it that they start mining my tidbits? No, not really. But if I’m going to have to go back to school here and research my ass off for a blind squirrel’s chance at selling something, I also have to think that that that has very little chance of happening, just might come to be.
Hey, I just got away with three “thats” in a row and the sentence is still grammatically correct. It may not count as art, but it’s got me feeling kind of lucky anyway.
Give me a ticket for an airoplane…
September 14, 2007
…I ain’t got time to take no fast train/Oh, the lonely days are gone/I’ll be comin’ home/My baby she wrote me a letter…
Great song, great singer, great photo. Actually, Joe looks a little like the “Child Catcher” from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang in this. And, if I’m being honest, a little like Bruce Springsteen circa ’75 moments after being infected by the 28 Days/Weeks Later virus. And speaking of letters, I just sent out approximately 32 of them to a very specialized list of agencies that I actually, truly think would be interested in representing me. What am I expecting? Nothing. What am I hoping? That just one will find the logline and pitch interesting enough to ask to read the screenplay. Just one.
But like I said, I’m expecting nothing. Hollywood is interesting in that the industry appears to have very little tolerance for a learning curve in unrepresented writers, yet each one is looking for something different. If you don’t believe me, go ahead and research the correct way to write query letters. Every new thing you read will make you think the opposite of the last thing you read. Some say, “keep it short and sweet, they don’t have time for you, you’re annoying them” and others say, “make sure you start off with something clever, and include a synopsis and a resume and say something interesting about yourself”. Uh…okay. Whatever you choose, you will undoubtedly read something after all the letters are on their way that will keep you up at night thinking you’ve ruined your chance. Months, maybe years of work on a labor of love has all gone down the toilet because you failed to play by the rules, possibly from the first word. Believe me, I know. This has happened to me. I was up at four in the morning wishing I could have them all back. It sucks, and I look a little like Joe’s t-shirt up there this morning.
But it’s the way it is.
I also entered The Collection: Legend of Fortunate Son into two contests that have among their rewards guaranteed exposure to various agencies. To be totally honest, I don’t even care about the cash prizes and can’t remember a single figure that I skimmed pertaining to them. Why? Cause I want to write so badly for a living and tell stories that may end up on the big screen that I would use any money I won to buy a reading. I really would. Even if I was starving and had holes in my flip-flops. And if I do get lucky enough to reach a finalist position and get some cash, that’s exactly what I will do. I will come here and offer it up as a reward for anyone who can guarantee me a reading from someone on my list. I’m sure I’ll need a little proof that it’s legit, but if it is, the cash is yours and you can do what you want with it. In fact, I may not wait until I win. Name your price. Seriously. Do I sound desperate? Maybe. But in this game, there’s very little that separates desperation from intelligent self-marketing.
I should mention that there have also been some positives that have come out of this arduous process. For one, I’ve read a lot of loglines belonging to properties that have either been sold or have won contests and I can safely say that while I feel in tune with the zeitgeist, I also feel like I’ve something fresh to say and a style all my own. This may work against me at times, but I have to think that once I’m in the door it will work in my favor. The truth is, it’s who I am. I write from the core of my creative bones and I love doing it. I would rather do that and die having not achieved my dream than find limited success in “sheep’s clothing”. Notice I also said “limited”. Sometimes you have to blend in before you break out. And as I said in my last entry, I think I’ve got a story that will help me do just that. As for other positives, I guess I simply like challenges and competition. I like what it does to me. I like to be hungry.
Before I sign off and begin amassing a new list of agencies that might be interested in Outside Men (a story that I have developed a new appreciation for after reading some of the recent horror offerings) allow me to direct you to the official website for Sony Pictures new release “30 Days of Night“. It might be Mac only, but give it a shot. The design is gorgeous and effectively frightening. And there’s a single/multiplayer game on there that is actually quite fun. Also, check out the exclusive 18+ scene and unrated trailer. Holy shit, this looks good. And in case you didn’t know, the film was optioned from a 3 book series graphic novel, and on that front, I may have some good news for my next entry.
Make no mistake. One way or the other, my baby’s gonna write me a letter.
Represent. Word.
September 4, 2007
As I begin my search for representation, I am constantly reminded that all of my ideas and hard work can easily end up lost in the ether, or regurgitated back to me like spoiled meat. It’s a painful recollection, and one that nearly stops me every time. It’s daunting to think that any degree of success I may come to enjoy is entirely up to a relative handful of people who may never share my vision as they continue their search for the next “film that is almost like something they’ve already seen that has made money”. In short, I’m reminded that filmmaking is at its core a business, and for every ambitious idea from an unknown writer that sneaks in between the cracks that execs are willing to take a chance on, there are loads of other ideas from so and so’s friend’s half-brother’s classmate that will do just as nicely. Not bitching, really, just stating the facts. Okay, and bitching. A little.
Of course, with the internet, there’s at least the appearance that the gap has closed between the unknown writer and possible buyers and/or representation. Through the mighty world wide web, the bridge has been lowered a bit further over the moat of anonymity with sites dedicated to getting work read, contests that will shout your name and databases for simple stuff like addresses to industry movers. All of them cost a bit, of course, but to be truthful I probably wouldn’t bother with a service that didn’t. Still, after shelling out a few hundy to have my work reviewed, I can’t help but feel a little like an easy mark. Just what industry am I fueling here: the one that gets writers work or the one that makes a tidy living off of our delusions? I have to assume there’s a little of both realities at work, and therefore it’s up to me to take my chances wisely.
So I prepare my query letters and try to stay away from articles about how query letters are so fiveminutesago-dot-com and that no one has the time to read them, pay my fees to sites that will put me in their exec search engines knowing that the scope of my listings most likely put me out of the immediate running, and enter a contest or two realizing that the 50 bucks I shell out will probably buy me more doubt than clout. However, inside every shell lies a tiny nugget of wisdom from which I can draw. And I have to think that if I keep trying, others will stop, which is something I will never, ever do. So I’ve got averages on my side, provided the work is above average. Great work would be better, and that takes time, as well.
And while I wait for that warm industry hug, I’ll start on my next screenplay. With this one I’ve kept in mind to make it easy to produce and full of lots of scary fun. I’m excited about it, actually. I’ve learned quite a bit and I think I’ve come up with an idea that will definitely perk up ears by being reminiscent of tales told before, but with an entirely fresh and original spin; which, of course, is what they’ve been totally waiting for me to do.
Fine. But if they want it they have to let me pitch the other stuff at some point, too.
Word.
