A Conversation with…Justin Samuels


Mr. Samuels has pending litigation against the William Morris Endeavor Agency and Creative Artist Agency, claiming racial prejudice. Mr. Samuels, an African-American, has been trying to sell his screenplays for 9 years, but claims his race has kept him from making any progress within the film industry. To read more about the lawsuit…


JV: You say you've been trying to break in for nine years. How many scripts have you written in those nine years—and what were the genres?

JS: Eight screenplays. I've written horror, fantasy, comedy, and mystery.

JV: You live in New York, correct?

JS: Manhattan.

JV: Are you married? Any kids?

JS: Not married. No children.

JV: As I’ve mentioned many times—on my blog, in interviews, etc.—a big part of a screenwriter's success is contingent upon spending “face time” with the powers that be in the filmmaking community. You need to meet these people face to face. You need to network. Do you think you’d have better luck if you lived in Los Angeles?

JS: No. I lived in Los Angeles on and off during 2003-2005. While I did have a couple of marginal entertainment industry jobs, the problem with working to support yourself and pay your bills is it takes a lot of time. I had little or no time to meet people. And I left Los Angeles because ultimately the jobs I got in that time period didn't pay enough to support me on a long term basis. And honestly, I'm established in New York, which is good, as there are other types of writing here. I could go into advertising as a copywriter, go into publishing as a novelist, or go out for other types of writing while I continue to write my screenplays.

JV: Have you ever spoken one-on-one with a producer and/or an agent, and said, “Will you please read my screenplay?” If so, what have been the results?

JS: Actually, at some sort of conference, I did meet an agent. He was there to give a speech, so I didn't have the chance to ask him to read any of my screenplays. Beyond that, no, I haven't spoken to an agent or producer one-on-one

JV: Has anyone—whether it be a secretary, a production assistant, etc.—ever loved one of your scripts enough to say that they’d pass it on to someone who might be able to get the script produced?

JS: Yes.

JV: And what was the result of that?
JS: He said he loved it. A couple of times it got passed to someone else. I never heard back from them though.

JV: So, this person who loved your script, what position in the industry did he have?

JS: An assistant director.

JV: What exactly did he say about your script—and who was he going to send it to?

JS: Supposedly he was to take the script to an actual director, as well as a producer and agent. As for what really happened, I don't know if his contacts were actually willing to read my work or not. People can overestimate their influence in Hollywood.

JV: Do you think these people—the director, the producer, the agent—simply weren’t willing to read your script, or do you think it’s possible that they read it and just didn’t think it a work of any real quality?

JS: I have no idea what really happened and that's a problem with getting read this way. If I had gotten a direct request from someone of note and they never got back to me, or they did and it was a pass, I'd have a direct answer. But going through a third party like this, anything is possible. While they could have read my work and not liked it, I have no proof that this person had the pull to get them to read it. In this particular case, I don't know what happened.

JV: According to the Social Hollywood article, you seem to feel it’s imperative that you get your scripts only to the “major” producers. I tend to think you’d have better results if you submitted to some of the lower-tier producers. In fact, I know quite a few screenwriters—by the way, one is a black man, two others are women—who make a pretty decent living getting their work optioned, sold, and produced by these lower-tier producers.

JS: Well, I did go that route with some lower-tier producers. They read my work and loved it. But then they went broke and went out of the business. Indie producers, at least in my experience, can have a lot of financial problems and are less likely to be able to raise the money to actually see the production of a film through. That's really why I want to go the major producers. If they are interested in your work, at least they have the financial resources to pay the screenwriter and produce the film.

JV: Approximately how many of these “lower-tier” producers have you queried in the last nine years?

JS: I don't recall the number. Some of the lower tier producers went out of the business; others had difficulty raising the money to do films that require decent budgets.

JV: Have you ever entered any of the top-tier screenwriting competitions, such as Nicholl, Final Draft, or Slamdance? If so, how did you fare?

JS: For the most part, I didn't enter contests, with the exception of Amazon Studios, which is still pending. Though one year I did enter the Nicholl. I didn't place.

JV: From what I can gather, it seems like you’re not really willing to get out there and hustle in any substantial way. You have to do far more than just sending out—as you mention in the Social Hollywood magazine article—“hundreds, if not thousands” of query letters. You have to do far more than meet one agent at “some sort of conference.”

JS: You glossed over the point where I had to work in Los Angeles. Work—you know, I do need money to survive—and commuting take up a massive amount of time. Los Angeles landlords are like landlords in any city, rent must be paid at the first of the month. Nobody cares that you want to be in the film industry.

JV: Yes, that’s very true, but I still think that if you can write a marketable script, you’re far better off being here in L.A. than in just about anywhere else.

JS: I've already lived in Los Angeles and living there doesn't give you access in and of itself. While I will always write screenplays, there are other types of writing that are centered in New York, not Los Angeles, and these types of writing are a lot more open. Publishing, theatre, advertising, are all centered in New York, not Los Angeles. So while I have my difficulties in accessing film, it's just better to be here in New York.

JV: You also mention in the Social Hollywood article that you’re a graduate of Cornell University and have a B.A. in history. You also minored in English and “writing classes,” and have “done screenwriting workshops on the side.” In my opinion, this is all fairly irrelevant to your eventual success as a screenwriter. There are plenty of successful screenwriters who have had relatively little education. Sure, maybe they’ve attended a couple screenwriting workshops or seminars, maybe read a few how-to books, but they simply had the innate ability to craft a motion picture screenplay, to tell a story that people would want to pay to see.

JS: How did those people get read? Did they have relatives in the business? Did they live in Los Angeles all their lives? Who supported them and paid their bills when they moved to Los Angeles? You might have a lot more time for networking if you're a trust fund baby. I mentioned my education in the context of if even I have this much difficulty getting read, I know it would be outright impossible for almost all non-whites in this country to break in. Since there would be others who would use the excuse that lack of education and/or talent explains the shortage of non-whites as screenwriters or in other behind the scenes positions.

JV: With regard to the agents and/or producers you’ve queried, how do they even know you’re an African-American screenwriter? I mean, your point of view seems to be: “They know I’m black—they won’t read my script!” Do you mention in your queries that you’re an African-American?

JS: I didn't say that they know I'm African-American. I said since the majors do not even accept queries, this has a disproportionate impact on African-Americans in terms of locking us out of the industry, as we have no access to the people we would need to be read by.

JV: Justin, I’m not saying a certain amount of discrimination doesn’t exist, but I tend to think that a vast majority of producers and lit agents don’t necessarily care if you’re young or old, black or brown, gay or straight, male or female. These producers and agents simply want great material. I really can’t imagine one of these agents or producers—one who has read your script and thinks it would make a great movie—sitting down to meet with you for the first time and saying, “Uh-oh. He’s black. I can’t represent/buy his script.”

JS: But how would I access these producers or lit agents? I'd have to get read in order for them to like my work or not like it. Truthfully, I've had people say that my work is great. Unfortunately for me, they were so far on the fringe it didn't matter. If I had gotten a bunch of reads from major people in the industry, and they didn't like my work…I'd have to deal with that. Basically, I'm saying I have no access, in part because of my race and because I'm not in on the right social circles that would allow me to talk to a producer or agent one-on-one.

JV: C’mon, Justin, you don’t have to be “in the right social circles” in order to talk with producers and/or agents. Again, if you just got out and schmoozed a little, especially here in Los Angeles, you’d be running into film people all the time. See, that’s really one of the keys to all this—meeting people in the film industry…not just producers and agents…and getting them to read your material. If you’re good, if you have a script that could potentially be turned into a movie, you’ll get noticed. Sure, perhaps by a “lowly” Production Assistant at first, but then that P.A. might say, “I really like your script. Can I give this to my boss?” That’s how many careers have started in this business.

JS: Look at what you just said. Yes, you do indeed need to be in the right social circles to do what you said. You'd need wealthy parents—disproportionately white—or some sort of backing where you basically didn't have to work in order to schmooze with film people all the time. You seem to have glossed over the part where I lived and worked in Los Angeles. At times, I worked long hours, commuted long hours. It’s why I said the idea where one must meet people basically favors wealthy white people who can live a certain lifestyle.

JV: I happen to know plenty of Caucasian screenwriters who can’t sell anything either. They can’t option anything; they can’t get meetings with either producers or agents. I’ve read quite a few of their scripts. Truth is, they were awful. Again, white, black, yellow, or brown—if you can’t write a marketable screenplay, you’re not gonna generate any heat. It’s that simple.

JS: No, not that simple. According to the WGA, 5% of screenwriters in film were non-white. Are you claiming that non-white screenwriters are genetically incapable of writing screenplays? Disproportionately, screenwriters are white and male, in large part because of the schmoozing policy you defend. And your earlier advice to me, move to Los Angeles, meet film people all the time, has nothing to do with writing a marketable screenplay.

JV: Where have I claimed that “non-white screenwriters are genetically incapable of writing screenplays”? I’m only saying that plenty of white screenwriters can’t write marketable scripts and, therefore, can’t get anything optioned or sold. So it’s not just African-Americans and women who are having trouble getting stuff sold. Fact is, selling a screenplay isn’t easy for anyone!

JS: However, statistically, selling a screenplay for some reason is apparently a lot harder if you aren't white or if you're a woman. Those are the stats quoted by the guild.

JV: I think that might simply be because there are far fewer non-white and female screenwriters trying to break into the business. Anyway...here’s a little story I’d like to relate. I grew up in Los Angeles and decided on “the screenwriting life” in the early 90s. By then I had been married, divorced, and had a daughter, so I was working full time. But I managed to learn the craft and crank out scripts. My first optioned script came a few years later. This wasn’t a big producer and it certainly wasn’t big money, but it was an option. It was basically somebody telling me, “You’re a good writer. I want to produce a movie out of your script!” I stayed focused and kept writing and kept getting my scripts “out there.” Do you know how I eventually sold my first screenplay? In 1995 I answered an ad in Variety. Some upstart producer was looking for scripts. So I contacted him and sent him a script. By the way, not once did he ask me if I was young or old, black or white, gay or straight. He got back to me a short time later and told me that the script wasn’t quite what he was looking for, but he really liked my writing. Not long after that he got back in touch and asked if I wanted to do a rewrite on a script. He said he might have a potential buyer if the script was solid enough. I did the rewrite, which I wasn’t paid for, and he was able to set the script up at a prodco here in town. The movie eventually got produced. This wasn’t a huge prodco, but it was a respected one, and it was a credit, and that movie has been playing virtually non-stop on cable all around the world for over ten years, and this has opened some doors for me. I wasn’t supported by a wealthy family; I didn’t hang out in moneyed social circles. No, I learned my craft, wrote and wrote and wrote, and sent my scripts to anyone who would read them. This is what it comes down to: writing marketable scripts, getting them out to people, building a fan base, and hope your scripts eventually land on the desk of someone who can do you some good.

JS: I really don’t see how this is relevant to anything. I said that the mainstream agencies have policies that disproportionately lock non-white—or those who don’t come from wealthy families—out of the industry. Your option didn’t come through a script shopped by a top agency, so that was a path that was closed to you at that time. If you had been from a prominent enough family, you might have had that opportunity.

JV: You’re suing WMA and CAA for eight million dollars. I realize that it’s customary to pick a monetary amount when you initiate a lawsuit—and I’m sure you’re factoring in punitive amounts—but are you saying that you feel you’re owed roughly $850,000 for each year you’ve been attempting to sell your scripts? If so, please explain your rationale.

JS: No comment due to pending litigation.

JV: I have to say, Justin, agents, producers et al. tend not to want to be in business with someone who’s—and please excuse the term—“lawsuit happy.” Do you realize that by filing this suit, you might very well be destroying any career you might potentially have in Hollywood?

JS: If my efforts bring about any change at all, it’s more than worth it. And I'm not lawsuit happy. Businesses sue each other all the time in Hollywood. I think there's a double standard here. If a wealthy person or a business sued another wealthy person or business it would be no big deal. If a poor person who believes he's standing up for himself or for the rights of others sues, he's the devil.

JV: All right, Justin, go ahead, pitch me your best script. Sell me on it.

JS: “Lunatics”: A mental patient suspects the institute's head psychiatrist is actually a demon reaping the souls of the weak-minded, and must use his untapped ability to help his fellow patients regain control of their thoughts.

JV: What’s the current status of the lawsuit?

JS: I'll just say it’s pending; these things can take a while to fully resolve.

JV: If three or four years from now you still haven’t sold anything, will you still continue to write screenplays?

JS: Yes.

Read part two of my interview with Justin!

* * *


No witches, no warlocks, no vampires. Just a sexy, rollicking story about a guy trying to hit it big in Hollywood.

"A great summer read!"
"A sexy Hollywood tale!"
"It's WHAT MAKES SAMMY RUN for the 21st century!"



Check out my book, Q & A: The Working Screenwriter! Interviews with 16 working screenwriters! 




You Could Die Holding Your Breath in This Town!

A few months ago, my manager calls and says, “I sent [name of script] to this director I know. He read it and thought it was great, and he asked if he could send it to this producer friend of his. I told him to go ahead and send it. A couple weeks later, the producer calls me and says he loves the script and wants to meet us. So, Jim, we have a meeting at Universal next Thursday at noon.”

OK, sound good. So...

That Thursday, I get myself over to Universal at noon and I walk into this producer’s bungalow. My manager is not there yet, but the director (the fella who first read the script) is. So the three of us sit in this very pleasant, very spacious office, and have a chat. We talked about all sorts of things (much of it having absolutely nothing to do with my script or filmmaking). We got to know each other a bit and had some laughs. Based on the energy I’m getting from these two gentlemen, I think they’re cool, likable.

My manager eventually arrives and the meeting officially starts. The producer tells me how much he really loves the script. After the movie he just completed (due out late this year), my script is exactly what he’s looking to do next.

Great!

So the four of us discuss possible budgets, potential shooting locations, actors who might fit the various roles, etc. The producer tells me he’d like to get the movie into pre-production as soon as possible (even mentioning that he’s prepared to shell out some option cash), but first he’d like to read the script a couple more times and give me some notes for a polish.

The meeting ended somewhere after 1:00PM. I thought it went well. Really well. My manager thought so too. The director, who we spoke with out in the parking area afterward, was very upbeat.
This was in mid-March. Though my manager has maintained some contact with this producer, I’m still waiting on that second meeting.

I’m not exactly holding my breath. But we’ll see. Things tend to move really, really, really slowly in Hollywood.

One View on Writer's Block...

A fellow writer posted the following on one of the screenwriting boards. I liked what I read (mainly cuz I wholeheartedly agree with every word of it), so I asked for permission to post here on my blog. Here it is...


"There's no such thing as writer's block. That was invented by people in California who couldn't write." - Terry Pratchett

I don't believe in writer's block. Most of the “serious” writers I've known don't, either. I agree with the one who says, “It's an indulgence of amateurs. When you've got a contract with a deadline, you either turn in a manuscript or return your advance. You may find writing difficult and your results unsatisfying, but you do it anyway, because that’s what professional writers do: they write.” However…

I do believe in the realization that if your current work is of poor quality it should be abandoned. (Don’t delete it—the idea may be worthwhile even if the execution isn’t.)

I believe in inadequate preparation.

I believe in inadequate organization, too.

I believe in writing yourself into a corner so tight that you either need to start over or abandon it.

I believe in lost enthusiasm for a particular work.

I believe in lack of focus, in not knowing what your story’s really about and why these characters should tell it.

I believe in increasing boredom with an entire genre that’s become too familiar.

I believe in well-crafted characters you don’t want to spend time with. (And if you don’t, nobody else will, either.)

I believe in stories that require a daunting amount of preliminary research before you can write. (“Sure, that’s it—a police procedural following a serial killer who’s targeting milliners in 1910 Belgium!”)

I believe in shyness and lack of confidence that makes seeking expert advice or background hideously difficult or impossible.

I believe in not knowing how to start, or where to start, or even if you should start.

I believe in finding the need to learn basic writing mechanics and screenplay format so boring or off-putting that you’d rather procrastinate than spend the time it takes (which isn’t much for format).

I believe in concluding that your whole concept is stupid, immature, derivative, impractical, embarrassing, too personal, legally actionable, or any of a host of other fatal flaws.

I believe in realizing that you're not as good as other people—the ones who ought to know, like teachers and fellow writers—think you are.

I believe in realizing that you're not as good as you think you are—or ought to be.

I believe in that “what’s-the-use” attitude after you learn that your first several screenplays are probably going to be pretty bad regardless of the blood, sweat, and tears you give them.

I believe in the inability of young writers to write characters well beyond their own age and, regardless of research, situations well beyond their experiences—and I believe in the incredible frustration of being young and bursting with ideas that you shouldn’t tackle yet.

Now, any of those can stop you dead in your tracks and keep you stopped. The question then becomes: How can you get started again?

Give yourself permission to write utter crap. Lousy ideas, poor grammar and spelling, stilted dialogue…Write it anyway. Nobody has to see it. Written things can be revised or rewritten to improve them. The blank pages of the “blocked” remain blank.

Change your writing environment. Try something radically different. If you write on your computer in a quiet room, try a spiral notebook in a park or coffee house, or ruled paper on your grandmother’s dining room table. (Not recommended: your blood on walls.)

Perform writing exercises. Writing something different may free you.

Move physically. Play a sport, go for a walk or run, swing on a playground, whatever you like, but get your blood pumping. When it's racing through your body, the brain gets plenty of oxygen—and ideas.

Give yourself blocks of unstructured time when you’re not likely to be sleepy. Find a quiet place, think about your current writing project, and let your mind wander. Rein it back to the subject as needed. This can be combined with physical movement—a long walk may be an idea wellspring!

Play What If…? with what you see. What if the kid cutting your sandwich suddenly plunged that knife into the woman at the cash register? What if he merely put caustic chemicals in the mayonnaise? What if the sandwich and kid are fine, but you choked, right here at your table? What if you gave half your sandwich to that lady over there who looks poor? What if she thanked you for it by giving you something valuable (that she didn't think was worth more than the sandwich)? What if you sold it and couldn’t find her to give her any of the money? What if she found you and demanded all of it? What if...

Write daily, every day, no exceptions, for a set amount of time. If you can't write, you must remain in your writing environment for the set amount of time anyway. Your choices are a) write, and b) don’t write. No games, no internet, no texting, no TV.

Stimulate your mind with new experiences. If you're a movie fan, see a play or watch a street performance. Hear live music rather than CDs, or listen to something in a genre you know nothing about. Eavesdrop on or observe people unlike most of the ones you know. People-watch (and invent lives for passers-by). Attend a sporting event (any kind, at any level) where you don't know anyone and watch the crowd rather than the players.

Upon waking, jot down the surrealistic snippets of whatever dreams you remember. They don't mean anything, in my opinion, but the odds are good that they're packed with drama.

Just do it. You don't want to be a self-indulgent amateur, right?

© 2011 by Maryn Blackburn




* * *


No witches, no warlocks, no vampires. Just a sexy, rollicking story about a guy trying to hit it big in Hollywood.

"A great summer read!"
"A sexy Hollywood tale!"
"It's WHAT MAKES SAMMY RUN for the 21st century!"




A Bit of Promotion: My Book!

Dear Screenwriter…

Many of you long-time readers are fully aware of my book, Q&A: The Working Screenwriter. For those of you who are a bit newer to this blog, I’d like to offer an introduction to what many have called “highly recommended to any budding screenwriter,” “a very instructive yet entertaining read,” “filled with great insight and honesty,” “valuable and practical,” “a must-read,” “inspirational,” “a phenomenal book.” Here’s what David Trottier, author of The Screenwriter’s Bible, had to say in the book’s foreword:

"Screenwriting is not for the faint of heart. It is both arduous and challenging. That is one reason that crafting a movie script from start to finish is one of life's most sublime experiences. As you know, the writing process itself is its own reward. But to sell the script—now that's Nirvana. How do you do that? How do you write a movie that sells or finds you work?

Each writer approaches the process in his or her unique way. Each walks his or her own writing path. And yet, when you examine the experience of dozens of successful writers, you see patterns, and you see new ways of doing things that you know will improve your own unique style and chances for success.

This book, in its way, invites you to sit down in a comfortable room with over a dozen working writers. Just you and them. They give you answers to questions that perhaps have puzzled you for months or years. Straight answers. Honest answers. And you get their view of writing and selling issues that are important to you. You partake of their wisdom. In some cases, you might even disagree with them.

That's one reason I enjoyed reading Q&A: The Working Screenwriter. The content became a discussion in my mind. Years ago when I began my own writing career, it was a book of interviews that inspired me the most. I felt as though established writers were talking to me and giving me their personal advice. I learned from them and improved my craft.

The same was true when I read these interviews. Yes, I benefited from the answers to questions, but I also gained from what was said in the process of answering those questions. For that reason, I recommend you read this book from cover to cover with an openness that invites what you need to settle into your mind and resonate there. Sometimes it's the subtext or an off-handed comment that presents that golden insight that will help you the most." — Dave Trottier, Author, The Screenwriter’s Bible

If you’d like to pick up a copy of Q&A: The Working Screenwriter, you can do so by visiting any of the fine booksellers below.

Q&A: The Working Screenwriter at Amazon.com

Q&A: The Working Screenwriter at Barnes & Noble

Q&A: The Working Screenwriter at The Writer's Store

If you want to stir your creative juices, bolster your confidence, and gain a better understanding of what it takes to become a working screenwriter in today’s film industry, you’ll find Q&A: The Working Screenwriter essential reading!

JANUARY 2012 UPDATE...

Interview with Darren Howell, Part 3!*

*If you haven’t read my two previous interviews with Darren Howell, please do so before reading this latest interview. Just go to:
Interview with Darren Howell, Part 1
Interview with Darren Howell, Part 2

JV: OK, let’s go back a bit. You initially optioned Arena, which you co-wrote with Toby Wagstaff, when?

DH: That feels like an eternity ago. If I remember right, we got the news on Good Friday [March 21], 2008.

JV: What were some of your experiences—both good and bad—with producers, development executives, prospective directors, etc. subsequent to optioning the script?

DH: It was nice to sit in on meetings—albeit via phone from London—while “Team Arena” met to discuss development, and it was awesome when the director sent me some conceptual sketches that had been done. What I didn't like was the long periods of silence, when nothing was happening.

JV: The director who sent you conceptual drawings—can you mention who he was? And how enthusiastic was he about Arena?


DH: The director Summit chose was a guy named Jeff Wadlow [Cry Wolf, Never Back Down]. He was a cool guy and really passionate about the script. I actually met with him [in June 2008] when I was out in L.A.

JV: What was the specific reason Summit put your script into turnaround?

DH: They stated it was too similar to Predators, which, to anyone that's read the script, is complete bullshit! It's also laughable that they had the script months before Predators was announced. See, this was the annoying thing: Arena was the script that Summit had to make, and ASAP. They also mentioned something about it being only a two quadrant picture...

JV: “Two quadrant” is a term I’m not familiar with…

DH: Apparently, movies are categorized in quadrants depending on the audience demographic: men under 25; men over 25; women under 25; and women over 25. For instance, a movie appealing to men under 25 would only be a one quadrant picture. Apparently Summit decided that Arena was only a two quadrant picture, and only appealed to men!

JV: From the time you optioned Arena, until it went into turnaround, how much rewriting were you asked to perform, and how much did you actually do?

DH: If I remember right, we did one full rewrite and a couple of minor polishes.

JV: Percentage-wise, how much did your script change from your original draft to the “full rewrite” you did?

DH: Our full rewrite wasn't overly heavy, if I remember correctly. I think the structure and beats of the script pretty much stayed unchanged. One thing that made me laugh was we had a big set piece where the modern day U.S. Rangers make their escape in a World War II army truck, while being pursued by dozens of Sioux Indians on horseback. It was all very exciting: flaming arrows, Indians scrambling over the truck, our protagonist hanging out of the cab fighting, limbs being hacked off, etc. There was a big hoo-haa about how it wasn't politically correct to show the extermination of Native Americans and we had to substitute them for Zulus, as it's obviously OK to gun down Africans in movies!

JV: Do you feel development of the script ultimately pushed the story closer to what Predators was? And if so, considering Summit ultimately decided it was all too “similar to Predators,” wouldn’t you say it’s rather ironic?

DH: That's kinda hard for me to answer. Personally, I think Arena is as close to Predators as Mary Poppins!

JV: You mentioned to me that you had gone through “a wide range of emotions” after Arena was dropped by Summit Entertainment. Tell me about that.

DH: Oh, I remember being numb, shaking, trying to put a brave face on, crying like a baby. You name it, I did it. I even wanted to fly out to L.A. and execute every motherfucker that worked for Summit. Obviously, I didn't. You just have to pick yourself up. What else can you do?

JV: So has this experience at all diminished your passion for pursuing a life as a professional screenwriter?

DH: Initially, yes; but as they say: “It's better to try and fail than not try at all.” If I don't keep at it I'll never know, will I? I believe that one day something good will come; I just have to keep plodding onwards. And I absolutely love writing, so it's not like it's a chore. Primarily, I'm doing it because I get immense fun out of it.

JV: What’s the current status of the Arena?

DH: There was a long period of just complete nothingness. Then, out of the blue, our agent said he'd sent it to Magnet Media Group [which recently produced 13, starring Jason Statham and Mickey Rourke; The Experiment, starring Adrien Brody and Forrest Whitaker; and Dark Tide, starring Halle Berry] and they were interested and a meeting had been set up. Apparently, the meeting went very well and Magnet was going to pick it up from Summit—they were really fired up by the script! The last I heard, all the transitional paperwork and finances were being finalized.

JV: So what are you working on now?

DH: I’ve just completed a romantic comedy about international football. I'm also currently trying to get a UK agent, in addition to my US rep, as a lot of my work gravitates towards the UK.

JV: Would you agree that screenwriting is definitely a numbers game and only the strong survive—and the only way to make it—to survive—is to keep writing and keep putting your material into the hands of people who can do you some good?

DH: I agree, but…write because you want to, not because you want riches, fame and glory. If you set out with the intention of turning yourself into an automated script production line, it's not gonna work and your writing will suffer.

JV: Once again, Darren, a big thank you for sharing your experiences here on The Working Screenwriter. Do keep us posted on further developments!


DH: Many thanks, Jim.

Late 2010 update...

I'm recently back from a glorious, perfect week in NYC with my wonderful girlfriend. Even managed to get some good work done on my novel. As for the screenwriting game: I'm just waiting on a few things to pop. If they don't, they don't, but we'll see. Looking forward to 2011!

A few of you have told me how much you've enjoyed reading the Bukowski poems I've posted. Well, here's another one I happen to appreciate. Hope you do too!



the weak

are always proclaiming that
they are now going to concentrate
on their work, which is usually
painting or writing.
it is known, of course, that they have
talent, they simply haven’t…well…
they haven’t truly been given a
chance.
there were matters that got
in the way: bad affairs, children,
jobs, illness, etc.
but now, that’s all put aside, they
proclaim.
they are going to concentrate
on their work
they are finally going to do it
now.
they have the talent.
now the world will see.
oh yes, it’s going to happen.

the proclaimers are everywhere.
they are always getting
ready.
they seldom begin.
and when they do
they quit easily.
it’s all a whim with
them.
they want fame.
they want it quickly
but they really have no urge
to do their work
except for fame
and to proclaim,
proclaim,
proclaim.

-- charles bukowski

A Flick About...Screenwriters!

Watched a cool little movie a couple days ago.
It’s low budget but well-done,
well-written, and the acting is quite solid.
It’s called The Blue Tooth Virgin.
If you’re a budding screenwriter—
even one who’s been at it a while—
I highly recommend this flick.
Rent it, buy it, but watch it.
Also…not only watch the movie, but listen to the audio commentary.
Trust me, it’s worth it.