It’s… Repped?

Y’know that manager I’ve been talking to? Well, he called yesterday and began, “So, I read POOL BOY over the weekend. I want you to know, I still think you’re a really great writer.”

Uh-oh. This can’t end well…

He pointed out – accurately – that my story lacks conflict and we talked about that. He felt my structure was good (thanks Blake!) and he still digs my voice.

Then he surprised me by saying that after reading it, he’s even more excited to work with me.

Um… what?

He asked my permission to send both POOL BOY and EROTIC MUSINGS OF AN AMERICAN HOUSEWIFE out and then pitched me an idea they came up with in-house that they thought would work great with my voice. I sparked to the idea, we riffed, and suddenly I’m developing a project with a manager and a WGA signatory producer attached.

How did this happen? I’m not in L.A. I’m not 20. I didn’t go to film school.

But I wrote. And I got discouraged and I bitched and wished I could quit. And I killed my darlings and learned to love it. I wrote and rewrote and reinvented and reimagined and reincarnated until I could distinguish my good work from my bad. And finally, when even in deepest self-deprecation I had to admit the writing was pretty good, I knew it was time to put my work and myself out there.

It'll be fun to see what happens next. Isn’t Life just the coolest ride?

It's Alive!

I haven’t abandoned this blog, really.

Just been busy outlining new projects and marketing
EROTIC MUSINGS OF AN AMERICAN HOUSEWIFE.

I’ve done pretty well getting it read, despite being presently-unrepped.

A couple producers of films you’ve seen more than once have requested reads. A few agents and managers who represent writers, directors and actors you’ve heard of have requested reads. Somehow, I’ve been able to send ‘em and forget about ‘em, which has been happy news for my sanity.

Had a great conversation with a manager last week. Good news was he liked my voice and wanted to see my POOL BOY script as soon as I mentioned it. Bad news was I’d just looked at POOL BOY for the first time in about a year and-- I dunno, it’s like… weeds grew all over it while I was gone or something.

I told the manager I’d need about two weeks to rewrite (knowing that would be cutting it close). He said, How ‘bout next Friday? I said, Done.

Which gave me nine days.

Nothing like a non-self-imposed deadline to light a fire under your ass. Well, mine, anyway. I haven’t been that focused on anything since I had to push baby Malfoy out of my body without benefit of drugs.

A few days later, I decided to bust my goal and told the manager I’d have the script ready to send to him by Thursday (even though it was looking like the Bride of Frankenstein in 12 pt Courier, at that point).

And… I did it.

Sent it over last night and got a nice little shot of endorphins as I clicked “Send.”

Now, onto the next…