The bottom line to the story: a producer wants to option one of my scripts.
The preamble:
Before I sold the Bobbie Faye books (see description in left column), I was a screenwriter. In fact, that had been my focus for several years before making the switch to fiction. I probably would have never deviated from fiction into screenwriting if my university had not been so closed-minded about anything that was genre. As it was, if you wanted to write anything other than literary fiction, you were going to have a really difficult time getting any serious help or attention from the faculty, who all prided themselves on their literary publications. And, maybe, that was okay, because every program should probably have a focus (I say this with loads of hindsight) in order to be successful, and literary fiction was theirs. I love reading lit fic; in fact, I wrote in that vein for a while, but writing it didn't move me, didn't entertain me in the same way as the bolder stories of genre fiction did.
I had gone back to school when the kids were young; I had already published a lot in non-fiction (news features, magazine articles, mostly local/regional and a couple of national sales), but I wanted to get help in learning how to structure a big story. Novel length. However, through a series of events, I realized I wasn't going to really learn anything, in spite of making straight As, and I felt a world of frustration. I couldn't just pick up and go to another college. There was no internet as we know it today or blogs or links to writing sites. I didn't really understand how to dissect a novel from a writer's POV (instead of just a comparative literary study). There had to be some way to learn structure.
Then lo, there was an answer: screenwriting class. Whether you wanted to write a small, literary script or a big, honking action story, all were welcome. Screenwriting was a new subject for the university, and no one was quite jaded against it yet. (Later, there were many faculty complaints that the screenwriters kept winning all of the big awards and got the attention. Ahem.)
I thrived in that class. The internet was growing by leaps and bounds about the same time, and I discovered the fantastic (and I would say "master level" class-worthy) essays over on Wordplay. I took every one of the university classes they'd let me take, and then they invited me into the MFA program (again, another euphemism for much political bickering and my screenwriting professor and another mentor won). Somewhere in the middle of all of that, I landed an agent. (Another long story, but a big thanks to Tamar for the referral.)
The first script which went out was an action script, and I got tons of meetings. It came very close to selling to Warner Brothers, but they had already spent six million trying to repair a script on a very similar subject as my script, and they didn't want throw that one away, even though the producer said that mine already solved all of the problems they were having with the other one. So, strike one. Next, my agent wanted me to write a romantic comedy. The logic there was to show range to the producers, with the goal being to gain their confidence that I could do any type of story they needed, so that they would hire me on assignment. Assignment work is what runs Hollywood. Spec script sales (a spec script being one a writer creates and writes and then tries to get to an agent to sell) were dropping off. Most producers / studios preferred to come up with an idea (or buy the rights to a property), then get a bunch of screenwriters to pitch how they would execute that idea, and then they'd pick the one whose pitch they liked best and assign them the job. Assignment work is how many screenwriters manage to have long careers... many many scripts do not get made for a thousand different reasons. If all you had was one sale and all you were waiting on was one script to be produced so you could make the production bonus money (the money they paid you when the film was done), you'd go broke in Hollywood very very quickly. Every agent, therefore, tries to get their clients assignment work, but in order to do so, the producer has to be able to see samples of the writer's work: hence writing various types of stories to show a range.
I enjoyed writing the romantic comedy much more than I expected, and it went out wide (meaning lots of producers wanted to read it) and it went to the top of three studios and almost got purchased and then didn't because someone's stars were playing hooky, or Lord knows what, it's hard to tell, but at any rate, it didn't sell. Strike two. Ironically, I got way more meetings, ended up making a lot of long-term contacts who are supportive of my writing through today.
Fast forward through other scripts, which was a wash/rinse/repeat of the above, but all the while, someone, somewhere, would call me about the romantic comedy script. And then that someone would try hard to get it made. Again, and again, and again. We were on the verge of getting it made (it had been optioned), when Katrina hit and the company which was going to make the film ended up being gutted by the losses from the hurricane. I had, however, sold the Bobbie Faye books and was kinda in an, "eh, whatever" mood about the whole thing because really, I have had a tremendous amount of fortune, no need to expect more. When a close friend of mine called me last week to say she'd pitched the script to another production company which loved the concept and wanted to see it, I was still in the, "eh, whatever" mode. That producer happened to be in New Orleans making another film there (he's made eight films in New Orleans alone, so he seems to know the city / state pretty well). When I was on the way to New Orleans yesterday evening to meet said producer, I was still in an, "eh, whatever" frame of mind.
He seems to really love the script and he's serious. We talked about exactly what will happen next, who does what, option agreements, what I wanted, what all I brought to the table. In the previous process of trying to get the film made, I had managed to get some very nice things attached which would be a big deal, marketing wise. (Big as in international prominence. I'll say more later when it's a done deal.) Since I brought several fairly big things to the table, he agreed that I should get a producer's credit (and therefore, producer's money) as well as money for the script. What any of that will be remains to be seen. I'm cautiously optimistic. At this stage, I know he's moving forward. They are drawing up the agreements, which I will then send to a top entertainment attorney in L.A., and my "we'll see" attitude is due to the fact that I don't know what the specific amounts are yet, so I don't know if it's something I'll end up agreeing to. I have ballpark notions (because of the proposed budget).
Mostly, though, I liked his down-to-earth attitude, the fact that he has made a lot of films and has some really good connections, and I was very impressed by his tiny notes on the script. They were extremely smart. (I must be the luckiest freak on the planet to get a really cool editor with terrific notes and now this guy. You may think I'm just saying that because it's a blog, but seriously, I have been impressed.) I like that he wants to move this script up into his next slot and make it his next film. (He has one film in line to do before mine, and another one he was developing which would have been next.) I also like that my close friend would be a producer on this film. She deserves the break and she's an amazing friend and has always always always had my back, even to her own detriment sometimes. I want her to succeed, big time, so if this can do that for her? I will be extremely happy.
The thing about script options, though, which are vastly different from book sales is, the option may end up only being that. If they can't get the stars on board, or if they can't get the exact stars the distributor will approve or the money people will approve, or the right combination of stars, or any number of variables, then the script could be back-burnered until the option ran out and that would be the end. With a book sale, they are definitely publishing the book. It's way more relaxing and joyous for that sort of sale. At the same time, I am sort of bemused by the fact that this little script just won't seem to die. Every single time I have completely forgotten about it, someone else tries to make it. Maybe, just maybe, some good karma will head its way this time. We'll see.
Toni, this is amazing...I remember tales of this script from years back, and that it's still "alive" is really exciting. Keep us posted.
Posted by: eliza at May 10, 2006 05:58 PMThanks, Eliza! This really is amazing; hopefully it'll work this time. woo!
Posted by: toni mcgee causey at May 10, 2006 08:52 PMYay Toni. I think I know the script. No, it won't die. You so deserve all the good fortune you are having.
I'm so glad to hear this.
WOOT!
Congrats, and I hope it all works out with the Little Script That Could.
Best of luck with this!
Posted by: writergurl at May 16, 2006 09:03 AMFingers crossed, Toni! What a story!
Posted by: Melanie Lynne Hauser at May 17, 2006 04:23 PMWoah! I'm keeping everything crossed for you and "the little script that wouldn't die" :-)
Posted by: Daisy at May 18, 2006 06:48 AMWow, thanks Kitty, writergurl, Melanie & Daisy! I keep forgetting I have to go approve blog comments (even my own!)... sorry to have taken so long.
Posted by: toni mcgee causey at May 18, 2006 09:25 PMWhat's going on over there? We need a dose up of Toni thoughts.
I'm giving you two days to post something new. : )