Part I in my plans of my cinematic vision of world domination detailed how, if I had an agent representing me, I would go about promoting "Sweet Dreams - A Sandman's Story" to a bunch of less than jubilant studio execs and other reptilian suits.
I should add to those previous statements, an unorthodox world premiere in a large, outdoor setting to form, basically, a drive in theater much like the ones we used to see in the 50's.
I admit I don't know how feasible that is, but hell Pixar took to NASCAR (of all the godforsaken places) to debut "Cars." I'm not stating I'd have the power of Pixar and Disney behind me, but I am stating it'd be appropriate and unique to do something quite different.
Also, I'd combine efforts with Cool Bobby B (from the 50's on 5) and we'd compile an album of the best doo wop from the 50's and use it as a sort of secondary release to the official soundtrack.
Now that those plans have been laid out, maybe I should mention what brought me to the here and now - ten years ago I realized I wanted to make it to Hollywood. I was, then, twenty-one.
I'd always been writing or rewriting something, be it for my own personal kicks or for some kind of project (both in high school or college), and I looked upon some of my favorite movies of the day, such as "The Mask," "Who Framed Roger Rabbit," and "Back To The Future," as having the best possible means of getting my often manic vision across.
My philosophy has always been, for better or for worse, that "I can't tell you what it is, I'll just have to show you."
In other words, I could go into a bland description of golf courses exploding, snakes squirming their way into Victoria's Secret, and dirty old men bragging about their favorite conquests in the nursing home.
It sounds fun, but it lacks the actual punch - the sand traps being shot up into the sky, lingerie clad females running out through the mall, and the adventures of Barry and Gary while they tried to make time with the one woman who gave them a sponge bath every day.
So it had to be shown.
At this time, I was also a huge fan of "The Drew Carey Show," which was probably the last great sitcom, as I haven't tuned in one since ABC ran Drew's poor show into the ground. "Friends" went away, and I was glad. Drew's show went away, and I never even noticed, I'm sorry to say.
I'd even taken to writing my own scripts for "The Drew Carey Show," and even writing to Scott Adams about what the procedure is to become a television writer, as he was currently working on the "Dilbert" television show. Adams, who admitted he couldn't accept unsolicited ideas and such, gave me a brief behind the scenes look at the writing process for his show back in those days.
I, hopefully, still have that email. I state "hopefully" as that computer crashed some six years ago, and its sitting in the floor of my bedroom closet waiting to be turned on yet again to see if any remnants still exist within its hard drive.
I never tried writing to Drew Carey after Adams gave me his advice, but I still kept working on those scripts, knowing full well they'd never see the light of day, but I needed the practice.
As I'm in Arkansas, I've had to gather sources from all around me and do the best I can. I'd purchased possibly up to fifteen or twenty different volumes on screenwriting alone, not to mention the others that dealt with filmmaking itself.
I taught myself the craft. I had to, because no one here knew what it entailed.
That was 1999 through the Summer of 2000.
At the end of my Summer semesters, I accepted a project which would see me become an active writer, director, and co-editor of a collegiate promotional film. I recruited, directed, and chose what locations I could to help bring this to life, and presented a rough copy to a panel of suits from all over the campus.
They loved it.
I was then given license to make a second for the upcoming semester, and onward we went.
Now this is a long way from Universal Studios, I admit, but it does show you can take a self taught nobody, put him in a unique position, and prove to himself and others that, yes, I am capable of doing these things.
Then comes the notions of actually going Hollywood, via the New York Film Academy. Apparently, the NYFA offers "crash courses" in filmmaking which lasts anywhere from four to twelve weeks.
The first chance I get, I'm taking a six week stint out to California, which is most agreeable to me as Florida has hurricanes, and if it came to running from them, I'd likely get trampled.
I'm also reviewing J. Michael Straczynski's book "The Complete Book of Screenwriting." Mostly it's the parts on getting and keeping an agent I'm concerned with. That, and the warning signs.
I haven't (yet) been taken for a ride over my nine years of actual writing and promoting, and I've also been read several times. Some wanted to read earlier drafts of "Summertime Blues," several wanted to read "The Life and Times of Igor" (but didn't know what to make of it), and so on.
After a good strong nine years, I think I've realized I can effectively ditch the various Writer's Digest publications that list fewer and fewer screenplay agents. I won't say I wasted a crazy amount of money on these yearly publications because they have proven helpful, I'm just saying it's more economical to get the WGA list of agencies off their website and phone them up for their contacts.
Also, a note on query letters for all those who mass produce envelopes: what the hell happened? I've always had two formats of envelopes available to me, and one would always fit easily inside the other alongside the query letter.
Now I've found that the "standard" 4 1/8" x 9 1/2" is the largest one available at all major retailers, and the puny 3 5/8" x 6 1/2" are the only two options available to me, which leaves me in a quandary - do I use two 4 x 9" envelopes, and just fold one over to fit inside the other, or do I use the 3 x 6" which would require the agent to fold my original letter over to fit in the returned envelope?
Either way, I feel, it's a disaster. Either I submit a letter with an unprofessional appearance, or send a neat and tidy package that requires the agent to be unprofessional.
It's been like this for a year now. No matter where I go, be it Wal-Mart, Office Depot, Walgreens, Target, or any other specialty place you can mention, all I find are the exact same sizes.
And if that's not enough, I find myself waiting for the newest price hike in stamps. Ten years ago I could get a Pepsi from a vending machine for just fifty cents, and in a few years (or less) it'll cost that just to mail one damned letter.
But that's life.
I've survived years of agents, price hikes, loss of properly sized envelopes, and so far haven't fallen for the "okeydoke."
I'm doing pretty well, I must say.
And, though I most likely will not rule the world, I will, at the very least, make it to Hollywood and have the career I've been working so very hard at obtaining for a good decade now.
It's only a matter of time, just like everything else in life.
