taylormade
Well-known member
So, can you live in the Midwest away from Hollywood and still sell a screenplay? Actually, the answer is yes. Of course, it takes some skill, some perseverance – and some luck, but it can be done. While not as spectacular as kylemd's great story, I thought you might find this convoluted tale interesting.
I wrote Bad Monday, a quirky thriller back in 2002. Eight years ago! I was actually naive enough to submit it to a screenwriting forum and got some reviews. There was a wide divide of opinion among the reviewers. Either they loved it or they hated it. While the supporters thought it was a wild and funny action piece the thumbs down crowd found it violent and repellent.
I took my medicine and shoved the script in a drawer. BUT, I did send a copy to a friend of mine in L.A., George Gerdes, a great actor who has been in numerous films and TV shows over the years. Fans of Seinfeld may remember him as the head of the bubble boy posse. He also played a crazed preacher on X-Files and John Stamos’ father-in-law on ER. George is not a mover or shaker in Hollywood, just another good actor always looking for another part and often not finding it. He read the script and liked it and gave it to a buddy of his, Charlie Haid, who played Officer Andy Renko on Hill Street Blues. Charlie has become a well-known and respected director, helming shows like Nip and Tuck, ER, Sons Of Anarchy and Breaking Bad. Charlie liked the script. (Beginning to see where the luck element comes in here?) He showed it to his cousin Tony Griffin (son of the late Merv) who also liked it. They decided they wanted to make it, Tony producing, Charlie directing. At least, that’s what they told me.
I waited.
I wait some more.
I still waited – two years. Nothing.
I put the script back in the drawer.
Another year goes by and I get a call from some guy who claims he’s a TV director and wants to know if my script Bad Monday is available. Is he kidding? Of course it’s available! I tell him Tony Griffin was interested, but after three years I guess his enthusiasm has worn off. The guy says he’ll call me. Sure he will.
About an hour later I get a panicked call from Tony – am I going to option the script to this guy? I say, well, I didn’t hear from you for three years so I thought…
Tony offers me an option deal on the spot, offering to Fed-Ex the contract and a check overnight. I’m momentarily speechless, but manage to find my voice and croak out YES!
I get my contract, my check and the future looks bright.
Then – nothing. An occasional call from Tony, they’re working on it, getting a casting director, blah-blah.
Finally, Tony says they want to shoot in Arizona. I’d written the script for the Midwest Rust Belt. I fly out to L.A., stay at Charlie’s house and rewrite the script in a marathon four day, no sleep session. Everyone seems happy with the rewrite, me included: it’s edgier, more structured and the dialogue is much tighter. While meeting with Tony in his office at Merv Griffin Entertainment I notice a memo about Bad Monday from his head of production that reads:
“Dude, if you can’t get Bad Monday made – you’ll never get anything made! It’s terrific from start to finish. Ern.”
(I had him copy it for me on company letterhead and it’s hanging framed on my office wall as I write this.)
Tony commits a bundle from his Company and we get the greenlight.
Ah, not so fast. Seems Tony is having trouble pulling the trigger. Some other production company wanted to partner in and co-produce. Problems over who would actually run the operation. Then Tony and Charlie have some sort of disagreement. I’m sitting back in the boonies watching the whole thing fall apart. After a two year process, Tony drops my option and says the deal is dead.
At least I got my option money.
2008, I put the script back in the drawer.
April, 2010, I get a call from a producer in L.A. “Hey, is Bad Monday available? I read that script years ago and loved it.”
What the hell! The script that wouldn’t die. I tell him it’s available – is it ever.
“Send me a copy”
I do.
He calls. “Loved it! I’ll be in touch.”
Sure he will.
April. May. June.
I send him an E-mail. “Still interested?”
He replies. “We’re just finishing up a picture with X and Y (two upper level stars) and I’ve been too busy to get back to you. The script is sitting behind me on my desk and I still love it.”
So, I’m glad he loves it, I’m glad it’s sitting on his desk, but is he going to option it? At this point, I figure I’ll just sit and wait it out. No sense in pushing the issue.
I wait a month. Then I get a brief email. “Will you option it for X dollars?”
The offer is about the same I got from Tony. Like a manic, I reply asking for MORE! Moments after I hit the send button I figured it was back to the drawer.
I hear nothing. I email asking “if my momentary lapse of Capitalistic greed had cost me any chance of getting the script optioned?”
He said he was busy and would get back to me.
I put the script back in the drawer.
The wife and I go visit relatives. We get back. I read my emails. There’s one from Hollywood offering me a three year option for far more than I’d asked for and a low six to mid figure purchase offer for the script depending on budget.
I took the script back out of the drawer.
Theproducer who made me the offer is solid with a record of over forty films being made over the years. Only time will tell if this script ever gets made.
I agreed to the offer and got this reply:” Great. I'm excited. This is a great script that is a lot of fun and is very castable.”
I only hope he’s right. So after eight years and numerous high – and low – points, this crazy script still has legs. Don’t give up out there, it can happen.
And no, I can’t give you the contract particulars. Private deal, private parties, except to say when it is announced by the production company I’ll let you know. And the really good news – they asked for more scripts a.s.a.p.! Since I had two in the pipeline and they liked the pitch on both, I might get lucky again. Makes the point to always have something ready – you never know when lightening will strike.
I wrote Bad Monday, a quirky thriller back in 2002. Eight years ago! I was actually naive enough to submit it to a screenwriting forum and got some reviews. There was a wide divide of opinion among the reviewers. Either they loved it or they hated it. While the supporters thought it was a wild and funny action piece the thumbs down crowd found it violent and repellent.
I took my medicine and shoved the script in a drawer. BUT, I did send a copy to a friend of mine in L.A., George Gerdes, a great actor who has been in numerous films and TV shows over the years. Fans of Seinfeld may remember him as the head of the bubble boy posse. He also played a crazed preacher on X-Files and John Stamos’ father-in-law on ER. George is not a mover or shaker in Hollywood, just another good actor always looking for another part and often not finding it. He read the script and liked it and gave it to a buddy of his, Charlie Haid, who played Officer Andy Renko on Hill Street Blues. Charlie has become a well-known and respected director, helming shows like Nip and Tuck, ER, Sons Of Anarchy and Breaking Bad. Charlie liked the script. (Beginning to see where the luck element comes in here?) He showed it to his cousin Tony Griffin (son of the late Merv) who also liked it. They decided they wanted to make it, Tony producing, Charlie directing. At least, that’s what they told me.
I waited.
I wait some more.
I still waited – two years. Nothing.
I put the script back in the drawer.
Another year goes by and I get a call from some guy who claims he’s a TV director and wants to know if my script Bad Monday is available. Is he kidding? Of course it’s available! I tell him Tony Griffin was interested, but after three years I guess his enthusiasm has worn off. The guy says he’ll call me. Sure he will.
About an hour later I get a panicked call from Tony – am I going to option the script to this guy? I say, well, I didn’t hear from you for three years so I thought…
Tony offers me an option deal on the spot, offering to Fed-Ex the contract and a check overnight. I’m momentarily speechless, but manage to find my voice and croak out YES!
I get my contract, my check and the future looks bright.
Then – nothing. An occasional call from Tony, they’re working on it, getting a casting director, blah-blah.
Finally, Tony says they want to shoot in Arizona. I’d written the script for the Midwest Rust Belt. I fly out to L.A., stay at Charlie’s house and rewrite the script in a marathon four day, no sleep session. Everyone seems happy with the rewrite, me included: it’s edgier, more structured and the dialogue is much tighter. While meeting with Tony in his office at Merv Griffin Entertainment I notice a memo about Bad Monday from his head of production that reads:
“Dude, if you can’t get Bad Monday made – you’ll never get anything made! It’s terrific from start to finish. Ern.”
(I had him copy it for me on company letterhead and it’s hanging framed on my office wall as I write this.)
Tony commits a bundle from his Company and we get the greenlight.
Ah, not so fast. Seems Tony is having trouble pulling the trigger. Some other production company wanted to partner in and co-produce. Problems over who would actually run the operation. Then Tony and Charlie have some sort of disagreement. I’m sitting back in the boonies watching the whole thing fall apart. After a two year process, Tony drops my option and says the deal is dead.
At least I got my option money.
2008, I put the script back in the drawer.
April, 2010, I get a call from a producer in L.A. “Hey, is Bad Monday available? I read that script years ago and loved it.”
What the hell! The script that wouldn’t die. I tell him it’s available – is it ever.
“Send me a copy”
I do.
He calls. “Loved it! I’ll be in touch.”
Sure he will.
April. May. June.
I send him an E-mail. “Still interested?”
He replies. “We’re just finishing up a picture with X and Y (two upper level stars) and I’ve been too busy to get back to you. The script is sitting behind me on my desk and I still love it.”
So, I’m glad he loves it, I’m glad it’s sitting on his desk, but is he going to option it? At this point, I figure I’ll just sit and wait it out. No sense in pushing the issue.
I wait a month. Then I get a brief email. “Will you option it for X dollars?”
The offer is about the same I got from Tony. Like a manic, I reply asking for MORE! Moments after I hit the send button I figured it was back to the drawer.
I hear nothing. I email asking “if my momentary lapse of Capitalistic greed had cost me any chance of getting the script optioned?”
He said he was busy and would get back to me.
I put the script back in the drawer.
The wife and I go visit relatives. We get back. I read my emails. There’s one from Hollywood offering me a three year option for far more than I’d asked for and a low six to mid figure purchase offer for the script depending on budget.
I took the script back out of the drawer.
Theproducer who made me the offer is solid with a record of over forty films being made over the years. Only time will tell if this script ever gets made.
I agreed to the offer and got this reply:” Great. I'm excited. This is a great script that is a lot of fun and is very castable.”
I only hope he’s right. So after eight years and numerous high – and low – points, this crazy script still has legs. Don’t give up out there, it can happen.
And no, I can’t give you the contract particulars. Private deal, private parties, except to say when it is announced by the production company I’ll let you know. And the really good news – they asked for more scripts a.s.a.p.! Since I had two in the pipeline and they liked the pitch on both, I might get lucky again. Makes the point to always have something ready – you never know when lightening will strike.
