Wow - got some REALLY great feedback & constructive criticism from Wildcard Pictures today. They made a couple of suggestions for minor changes we could make before the script is "ready to be read out loud and brought to the next step."
They commented on how our family dynamics are believable, the characters "all have such distinct personalities", and that we don't give away too much right away. My very favorite comment is "Another great mystery you have created is why they are so upset about Sid returning to town. Is he the man who caused the terrible accident that killed their parents? Could be! We just don’t know – and it’s nice that you have left that out at this point."
Well, I am just tickled!
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Doctor, we have a heartbeat
Made an interesting connection last night. Don't want to jinx it by say too much too soon. However, I remain cautiously optimistic in light of this person's enthusiasm.
Stay tuned!
P.S. Scott, I will send you a private note with some details.
Stay tuned!
P.S. Scott, I will send you a private note with some details.
Friday, July 16, 2010
The Honeymoon Period
We were off & running. We were under an 18 month option with Front Row Media. There was very little Scott and I could do at this point... the waiting game had begun. So maybe not so much running as sitting. However... neither of us can sit still for very long, so we continued to write. Over the course of several months we completed 2 more full episodes, and outlined 3 more.
On two separate Saturday nights we met at Scott's office after hours. We set up our pads of paper, post-it notes, and dry erase markers on the big conference room table. We talked through back stories, we ironed out inconsistencies, and we did lots of math - I'm a stickler for characters being the right age and talking about events in their past with some sort of sensible chronologic integrity. That's just me.
We worked out story beats, we laughed a lot, we figured out how to be fresh & clever without being cliched and cloying. At least I hope we did that! We drew on our own past experiences (Scott always says, if we can't plunder our own lives for story ideas, what's the point?), we discussed shows we don't like and why - so we could avoid making those same mistakes.
We took short breaks to grab some take-out, and seven hours later we realized it was 2 in the morning, and maybe we should wrap it up. Both times, we were so energized and on such a high (maybe due to the dry erase?) that we vowed this would be our full time jobs - soon!
However... and there's often a "however" isn't there? 18 months past and our script did not get sold. Rights reverted back to us, and we maintain a friendly relationship with Doug and Mimi. Don't fell too bad for us, though. We haven't given up. Chapter 2 of Scott & Amy sell Crossing the Divide has only just begun! Meanwhile, Scott has been banging out novels like he has something important to say. I took a writing class and have been collaborating with my new partner on two separate feature length screenplays - in spite of the old adage that you should not work with the same person you're crazy enough to have a relationship with. Oh well.
This blog isn't about the other stuff we're doing, so back on track! Now that we're caught up, let's see where we can take it from here. The Honeymoon may be over, but the Marriage has only just begun!
On two separate Saturday nights we met at Scott's office after hours. We set up our pads of paper, post-it notes, and dry erase markers on the big conference room table. We talked through back stories, we ironed out inconsistencies, and we did lots of math - I'm a stickler for characters being the right age and talking about events in their past with some sort of sensible chronologic integrity. That's just me.
We worked out story beats, we laughed a lot, we figured out how to be fresh & clever without being cliched and cloying. At least I hope we did that! We drew on our own past experiences (Scott always says, if we can't plunder our own lives for story ideas, what's the point?), we discussed shows we don't like and why - so we could avoid making those same mistakes.
We took short breaks to grab some take-out, and seven hours later we realized it was 2 in the morning, and maybe we should wrap it up. Both times, we were so energized and on such a high (maybe due to the dry erase?) that we vowed this would be our full time jobs - soon!
However... and there's often a "however" isn't there? 18 months past and our script did not get sold. Rights reverted back to us, and we maintain a friendly relationship with Doug and Mimi. Don't fell too bad for us, though. We haven't given up. Chapter 2 of Scott & Amy sell Crossing the Divide has only just begun! Meanwhile, Scott has been banging out novels like he has something important to say. I took a writing class and have been collaborating with my new partner on two separate feature length screenplays - in spite of the old adage that you should not work with the same person you're crazy enough to have a relationship with. Oh well.
This blog isn't about the other stuff we're doing, so back on track! Now that we're caught up, let's see where we can take it from here. The Honeymoon may be over, but the Marriage has only just begun!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Oh, and here's some money for what you wrote...
So the big day arrived. Amy and I sat by the telephone, waiting for our conference call with Mimi and Doug at Front Row Media in Los Angeles. The phone rang... And we were off.
Just as we'd felt a connection with Mimi just in our e-mail exchanges, we quickly felt a similar comfortable sensibility while talking with them both on the phone. It was pretty clear that they "got" our script and appreciated its quirks.
We talked about our characters like they were real people. We talked about plots. We talked about possibilities.
What I remember most clearly was Doug saying, "Well, we take on only about five projects at a time. We had availability for one more, and there was a stack of about six scripts on Mimi's desk that we were considering. Tough luck for the other five--she read yours first, and said none of the others matched up in quality..."
The conversation lasted maybe thirty minutes. It concluded with the news that they'd be sending us a contract to sign, and once that happened, they'd begin taking our script around to meetings with producers, studios, networks, etc.
It was one of those scenarios where you understand all THE WORDS that somebody is saying, but you can't quite wrap your brain around the idea that these words relate to something that you have actually written. Surely, there must be a mistake. Surely these people aren't talking about taking OUR SCRIPT to meetings with network honchos and studio bigwigs..?
Even as that kind of "unreality" swirled around us, the contract pages arrived over the fax machine. Wow. It was true. We were about to sign a contract and receive a check from Front Row Media, granting them exclusive rights to market our script.
We were--and even now, I can't quite believe it--now professional screenwriters! Somebody had paid us for something we wrote!
NEXT: What do you do while you play the waiting game?
Just as we'd felt a connection with Mimi just in our e-mail exchanges, we quickly felt a similar comfortable sensibility while talking with them both on the phone. It was pretty clear that they "got" our script and appreciated its quirks.
We talked about our characters like they were real people. We talked about plots. We talked about possibilities.
What I remember most clearly was Doug saying, "Well, we take on only about five projects at a time. We had availability for one more, and there was a stack of about six scripts on Mimi's desk that we were considering. Tough luck for the other five--she read yours first, and said none of the others matched up in quality..."
The conversation lasted maybe thirty minutes. It concluded with the news that they'd be sending us a contract to sign, and once that happened, they'd begin taking our script around to meetings with producers, studios, networks, etc.
It was one of those scenarios where you understand all THE WORDS that somebody is saying, but you can't quite wrap your brain around the idea that these words relate to something that you have actually written. Surely, there must be a mistake. Surely these people aren't talking about taking OUR SCRIPT to meetings with network honchos and studio bigwigs..?
Even as that kind of "unreality" swirled around us, the contract pages arrived over the fax machine. Wow. It was true. We were about to sign a contract and receive a check from Front Row Media, granting them exclusive rights to market our script.
We were--and even now, I can't quite believe it--now professional screenwriters! Somebody had paid us for something we wrote!
NEXT: What do you do while you play the waiting game?
Monday, April 5, 2010
Los Angeles comes calling...
Shame on me for being away so long. It won't happen again! So, where we were?
Oh, yeah... "Interesting things" were starting to happen on the site where we'd posted a synopsis of our pilot script. People were looking at it. Some people were looking at it quite often.
Now, Amy can give you a better idea of how this whole displaying-our-script thing works. As far as the technical aspect of all this goes, I'm basically just along for the ride.
But our synopsis was getting quite a few "look-sees" and every time one of these occurred, we were notified. And in a lot of cases, we knew who was doing the looking. I don't mean to be coy, but I'm deliberately not naming names (some of which you would certainly recognize) because I'm not sure about the legalities of making this public information.
But as I said, people were looking, and a few people came back and looked again and again. That really got us curious...
A few people/companies contacted us about reading the entire script. One, a production company based out of Los Angeles, really "clicked" with us. One of the partners in the firm, a woman I'll call "Mimi" (mostly because that really is her name, and in case she's reading this, then, Hi, Mimi!!!) e-mailed Amy.
Amy forwarded the e-mail Mimi had sent to me, and we were both struck by how "sympatico" we felt with this woman, based entirely on the short message she sent. We could tell she shared the same humorous sensibilities as we do, and there was just something about the way she approached us that felt "right."
So we allowed her and her partner (who I'm going to call "Doug," because....well, yeah, you get the idea. And if you're reading this, also, Doug, then Hi to you, too!) access to our full script.
Then we did what we had gotten really good at doing... Sitting back and waiting. Trying to keep our hopes and our expectations realistic. Trying to convince ourselves that a rejection or another of those ever-popular "never hear back from them again" scenarios wouldn't crush our little hearts and break our little spirits.
We'd half-convinced ourselves that we'd be okay with rejection. We actually started to PLAN for it. Then Mimi had to go and upset the apple cart by getting back in touch and saying that, well, she kinda liked our script, and could we arrange a time to have a conference call with her office?
Just imagine how disappointed we were not to be disappointed this time.
NEXT TIME: We talk to Mimi and Doug on the telephone.
Oh, yeah... "Interesting things" were starting to happen on the site where we'd posted a synopsis of our pilot script. People were looking at it. Some people were looking at it quite often.
Now, Amy can give you a better idea of how this whole displaying-our-script thing works. As far as the technical aspect of all this goes, I'm basically just along for the ride.
But our synopsis was getting quite a few "look-sees" and every time one of these occurred, we were notified. And in a lot of cases, we knew who was doing the looking. I don't mean to be coy, but I'm deliberately not naming names (some of which you would certainly recognize) because I'm not sure about the legalities of making this public information.
But as I said, people were looking, and a few people came back and looked again and again. That really got us curious...
A few people/companies contacted us about reading the entire script. One, a production company based out of Los Angeles, really "clicked" with us. One of the partners in the firm, a woman I'll call "Mimi" (mostly because that really is her name, and in case she's reading this, then, Hi, Mimi!!!) e-mailed Amy.
Amy forwarded the e-mail Mimi had sent to me, and we were both struck by how "sympatico" we felt with this woman, based entirely on the short message she sent. We could tell she shared the same humorous sensibilities as we do, and there was just something about the way she approached us that felt "right."
So we allowed her and her partner (who I'm going to call "Doug," because....well, yeah, you get the idea. And if you're reading this, also, Doug, then Hi to you, too!) access to our full script.
Then we did what we had gotten really good at doing... Sitting back and waiting. Trying to keep our hopes and our expectations realistic. Trying to convince ourselves that a rejection or another of those ever-popular "never hear back from them again" scenarios wouldn't crush our little hearts and break our little spirits.
We'd half-convinced ourselves that we'd be okay with rejection. We actually started to PLAN for it. Then Mimi had to go and upset the apple cart by getting back in touch and saying that, well, she kinda liked our script, and could we arrange a time to have a conference call with her office?
Just imagine how disappointed we were not to be disappointed this time.
NEXT TIME: We talk to Mimi and Doug on the telephone.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Destined for Greatness
I'm gonna jump ahead some.
I can't recall how long it actually took before Amy and I went from "just fooling around with an idea" to "hey, maybe we really have something here." And a lot of that time would be boring to anybody except us, anyway.
So let's move to when the pilot script was done (in rough draft form, but basically done). We'd traded scenes back and forth in e-mails, and then had a marathon over-the-phone session one Saturday as we each held paper copies of our scripts and discussed and argued changes over the phone.
Somewhere around this time, Amy, who had done a lot of online investigating and even taken some classes (she can provide the details), suggested we should (a) copyright our script and (b) post a synopsis of it onto an industry website which would enable potential producers, studios, and anybody else with a potential vested interest to take a look at it and if they liked it, contact us and read the whole thing.
So we did. And, in the interest of covering all our bases, Amy also wrote about a hundred cover letters, addressed about a hundred envelopes, then handed 'em to me and said, "Okay, I've done my half--your half is to stamp these and mail them out."
I did.
Interestingly, our very first response back was from somebody who responded positively. He wanted to know more about our pilot idea. Wow, talk about beginner's luck! It was only later that we began to experience the bitter taste of rejection... the few dozen responses ranging from, "we're not accepting any new ideas at this time" to "your premise, while interesting, does not suit our present needs" to the dreaded no response back at all.
And here we thought writing and selling a script was so easy. We assumed you just wrote it and then somebody came along and bought it, and the next week, it showed up on your television.
(In case you are wondering, that last paragraph was a joke. I am naive, but maybe not quite that naive. I knew it was going to take at least two weeks before we would be rich and famous.)
So, the hundred letters of inquiry, while an important step, ultimately got us nowhere. Even that first guy who expressed interest, never got back in touch when we sent him further information.
However, interesting stuff was starting to happen with our synopsis, posted online. More about that next time...
I can't recall how long it actually took before Amy and I went from "just fooling around with an idea" to "hey, maybe we really have something here." And a lot of that time would be boring to anybody except us, anyway.
So let's move to when the pilot script was done (in rough draft form, but basically done). We'd traded scenes back and forth in e-mails, and then had a marathon over-the-phone session one Saturday as we each held paper copies of our scripts and discussed and argued changes over the phone.
Somewhere around this time, Amy, who had done a lot of online investigating and even taken some classes (she can provide the details), suggested we should (a) copyright our script and (b) post a synopsis of it onto an industry website which would enable potential producers, studios, and anybody else with a potential vested interest to take a look at it and if they liked it, contact us and read the whole thing.
So we did. And, in the interest of covering all our bases, Amy also wrote about a hundred cover letters, addressed about a hundred envelopes, then handed 'em to me and said, "Okay, I've done my half--your half is to stamp these and mail them out."
I did.
Interestingly, our very first response back was from somebody who responded positively. He wanted to know more about our pilot idea. Wow, talk about beginner's luck! It was only later that we began to experience the bitter taste of rejection... the few dozen responses ranging from, "we're not accepting any new ideas at this time" to "your premise, while interesting, does not suit our present needs" to the dreaded no response back at all.
And here we thought writing and selling a script was so easy. We assumed you just wrote it and then somebody came along and bought it, and the next week, it showed up on your television.
(In case you are wondering, that last paragraph was a joke. I am naive, but maybe not quite that naive. I knew it was going to take at least two weeks before we would be rich and famous.)
So, the hundred letters of inquiry, while an important step, ultimately got us nowhere. Even that first guy who expressed interest, never got back in touch when we sent him further information.
However, interesting stuff was starting to happen with our synopsis, posted online. More about that next time...
Sunday, February 28, 2010
a bit of cart-before-the-horse syndrome
Here's something funny that I had totally forgotten: before putting a single real word on paper, we (I) started asking about how we go about being wildly successful! I sent an email to my excellent friend, actor, writer, voice over artist, children's book author, garlic pizza connoisseur, Roger Eschbacher. He gave me some very good advice, much of which is painfully obvious now. Back then, however, we were as green as canned string beans. Basically, what Roger told me was that we would get no where on our own and needed representation - ideally in the form of a literary agent. However, he also planted the seed in our fertile little minds that we could maybe - just maybe - shoot this ourselves. Foreshadowing?
Meanwhile, I just found the email when I thought up the title. I'm so very proud of myself for this little contribution!
And at the risk of sounding like we are a pair of condescending twits, here's what I had to say about our most talented actor buddy, Matt Bachus, joining our party:
That's actually just about the kindest thing I've ever written about Matt. That's just the kind of junior high, pigtail pulling type of relationship we have. Exactly the kind of person I want to work with for the rest of our careers!
Along those same adolescent lines, here is my reply to Scott regarding his thoughts:
Ah, true love!
OK, so next, Scott comes up with the beginnings of the core family & the opening scene:
Wow - we actually kept a lot of that, although, as you will find out eventually, not quite that much violence.
And then off Scott went on a tangent that, fortunately, didn't last long:
Because what we really needed was yet another character!
Fortunately, that didn't last long and we figured out that the "divide" in question should be over bringing development to this sleepy little town. Half of the citizens want to town to retain its charming, small-town ambiance while the others are welcoming the idea of a burgeoning economy, big resorts, Wal-Marts, etc.
Meanwhile, I just found the email when I thought up the title. I'm so very proud of myself for this little contribution!
Amy to Scott 8-21-06
Anyway, on the assumption that we are setting it in a mountain town, I have a title idea. The town is the fictional Continental Divide, Colorado and the title can be either "Crossing the Divide" or "Over the Divide" - something like that.
And at the risk of sounding like we are a pair of condescending twits, here's what I had to say about our most talented actor buddy, Matt Bachus, joining our party:
I'm sure Matt B. would be happy to participate in any project either of us approach him with. He's just that kind of loyal. Like a big puppy dog.
That's actually just about the kindest thing I've ever written about Matt. That's just the kind of junior high, pigtail pulling type of relationship we have. Exactly the kind of person I want to work with for the rest of our careers!
Along those same adolescent lines, here is my reply to Scott regarding his thoughts:
I can't wait to hear the details your feeble mind is coming up with!
Ah, true love!
OK, so next, Scott comes up with the beginnings of the core family & the opening scene:
Scott to Amy 8-21-06And so it was said, so it shall be.
I LOVE "Crossing the Divide" !!!!!
I'm thinking the core family is a group of adult siblings, raised by a grandmother (something happened to the parents, not sure what). The grandmother is still alive, holding up remarkably well for having grandchildren in their thirties.
Opening scene is in a hospital emergency room where the siblings, their collective significant others, and the grandmother have all arrived, escorted by the police. The grandmother has just shot one of her grandsons (not a life-threatening injury - perhaps a bullet in the glutious maximum - that's Latin for butt, right?). And it wasn't an accident, either...
Wow - we actually kept a lot of that, although, as you will find out eventually, not quite that much violence.
And then off Scott went on a tangent that, fortunately, didn't last long:
Scott to Amy 8-21-06
The title "Crossing the Divide" is now making me think there needs to be TWO grandmothers. The father's mother and the mother's mother, and both of them had a hand in raising these now-adult siblings. And the two grandmothers have been lifelong enemies in this community. The kids now straddle being loyal to one grandmother or the other, causing a little friction between themselves.
Because what we really needed was yet another character!
Fortunately, that didn't last long and we figured out that the "divide" in question should be over bringing development to this sleepy little town. Half of the citizens want to town to retain its charming, small-town ambiance while the others are welcoming the idea of a burgeoning economy, big resorts, Wal-Marts, etc.
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