Wahoo.
Something about trying to find someone to represent me just kind of sucks. I mean, don't we all just want to have people knock on our door, with a bag of money over their shoulders, and say "Hi, I'm here to announce that your ship has come in, you have finally been discovered, and all your troubles are over. Here is a large amount of cash to start you off. See you soon. Enjoy your new life of wonderment."
Is that so much to ask for?
It's not like I don't have some credentials. I have written several plays that have been produced, published, and all that. I've won awards for writing, and have been translated into Czech. I even had a guy who worked development out in Hollywood who somehow got a hold of one of my plays, read it, and called my agent saying "this guy should be writing for tv." So what do I have to do, and why can't someone do it for me?
I have several screenplays, but the one that seems to catch most people's attention is called Ghostlight- a thriller set around a high school drama club's production of Our Town.
Today, I did research on query letters- the letter you write to agents and/or producers introducing them to a specific script you want to sell. Most of the articles and blogs I found on the subject said the same thing: be concise, beware of typos, and let the story sell itself. Brilliant. I can do that. Here's what I'm thinking:
Dear So-and-So,
I am seeking representation for my horror/comedy screenplay Ghostlight. It's about a group of teen-agers involved in the high school production of Our Town who are killed off one by one every time a theatrical tradition- whistling backstage, quoting MacBeth, etc. - is broken. Please let me know if you are interested, and I will send you a copy.
Sincerely,
Dude who wants to quit his day job
Aside from the sign off, that is basically what I am going to be sending out.
Like I said. Wahoo.
On the more fun side of writing, I am working on a new play, working title Lost River, and that really has me excited. It takes place in a carnival sideshow tent, where Hel, Norse goddess of death, tells peoples fortunes. At the top of the play, Jefferson Riddle, real life survivor of the Modoc War of 1872-3, wanders in, unaware that he has just died. Hilarity ensues.
Every time I work on this play, I feel happy- like I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing.
I want to be able to do that all the time. Sadly, I need to make money as well- and theatre in general, and weird plays about the afterlife in specific, doesn't generate a lot of income. Hence the need to sell a screenplay. I have a friend who works in LA who once told me that all I have to do is sell on hit movie, and I can spend the rest of my life writing for non-profit theatre. I would like that.
So, if you have any friends who are agents, producers, or millionaires looking to finance the next great horror film, let me know.
Until then, Go Yankees, Go Giants, Go Life.
Go.
