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Giving Up or Sitting Down

Have you ever wanted to give up? Cash in your chips, take your ball and go home...quit the whole rig a ma role? Show biz gives plenty of fuel to that fire, let me tell you. Working toward something, working for free, working job free? It can be depressing.


I was swimming through a period of almost no auditions, no script requests, no interest and thought (maybe for the thousandth time) "What am I doing?" It all came to a head while I was reading an article on how to get a lit agent. So many do's and don't's, this's and that's, better and better not's that I thew up my hands in abject disgust. What happened to a good story getting good attention? (I know. I'm not that naive. Everything comes down to money. But, a good story is still a good story, right?)


At the end of that article was a list of agents looking for new writers. I thought what the heck. One agency had only a phone number and New York address. (I'm in sunny SoCal, so New York is three hours ahead. Time wise).


Something pinged me. Some moment of clarity, perhaps, or a real distaste for obstructionist propaganda. I don't know. So, I dialed the number expecting a recording of how to submit, or a voicemail. After four or five rings I get a "Hello." I'm stunned. I never expected a human, and what does that say about me, society and my place in it? I began surprisingly articulate fumbling about finding an agent, I hope I'm not interrupting, it's after 6:30pm, am I bothering you? when she finally says, "What's the logline?" Oy, completely unprepared, I scramble to my computer for the word doc I should already have open. After an excruciating fifteen seconds I read it to her. She liked it. Enough to ask for a sample. Amazing, I think. Just like that, an opportunity.


After she gave me the sample size and her email, she said, "One more question. Why me?"


Oh, that's a good one. Naturally I wanted to say, "Because I love such and such author you represent," or "That great book you helped publish." But, I had nothing. Except honesty. "I was reading an article..." I started.


Sometimes I think pantsing* is a good thing. Had I planned to call her who knows what would have happened. Forced into the moment we became human beings making a human connection.


After we finished I was going back to grabbing more addresses, more names, more contact info. Then I thought, "For some reason I felt compelled to call her. I think I should honor that." So, I stopped hedging my bets and bet on this one extraordinary moment. This one divinely inspired moment that could end divinely. I'll keep you posted.


It is May 15, 2024 and life is good. I just finished the western novel I blogged about in March. I decided to call it "Mother's Child." I hope you get to read it soon. I'm adapting it into a feature film screenplay. I hope you get to see it soon.


For now, a blessed day is before you. Enjoy it. Until next time.


*(Pantsing is a term I heard a long time ago, meaning "flying by the seat of your pants." The opposite of planning).







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