A big step...

In the right direction.

On the one hand I can't believe I haven't written about this by now, but on the other I'm not that surprised.

I was commenting to my wife the other day that the journey of the past couple years (years in which I transitioned out of one career into another) has been so tough I feel like it's dramatically changed me.

To the point that signing a deal in L.A hardly registered.

And that 'aint right.

I mean, it's a "Producer's Rep" deal.

Pretty awesome.

So, some of you might be wondering what a "Producer's Rep" is.

Well, they're a film industry professional, often a former development or distribution executive at a major company who has transitioned into representing producers; guys or gals like me.

People who have made a movie and are trying to get it distributed, or picked up.

A Producer's Rep is like a magician.

The toughest part is finding one.  Once you find them the next most difficult part is seeing if they like your film.  Usually, once you've made contact (which is an art in and of itself) they ask you to send them some info on your film--usually a logline (one sentence describing your film) a synopsis (one to four pages outlining the basic story) and any artwork that you've created to support the film.

In our case we had all of the above, and a smokin' hot website that I was able to send.

Within days the Rep got back to me asking to see a trailer.

Ah, the trailer.

By this point, we'd created two, neither of which my Executive Producer was happy with.  And a major reason he wasn't happy is because I couldn't make the trailer 'sexy' enough.  And I don't mean T&A 'sexy' but WHIZZ! BANG! 'Transformers' sexy.

Couldn't do it.

Why?

'Cause I didn't have the money.  Simple as that.

I was working with editors who, while very talented, were basically working with me for free after nearly a year of working for with me for all-but-free and, at some point along the way, you run out (or nearly so) of goodwill.  It's that classic 'volunteer fatigue syndrome'.

At some point people don't want to help you anymore.

Not 'cause they're bad people.  It's just that they have a life too and their life is not about making your life happen.  That's what you are supposed to do.  So, unless you're paying them well enough that they stay committed because they're professional and because the income they're generating from their work with you keeps them fed and housed, sooner or later they're going to run out of steam and you're just going to have to recognize that you can't suck anymore blood from that particular stone.

This is why working in a 'volunteer intensive' environments like a first-time feature-film or a Church-plant can get so tiring both for the lead visionary and for the people working with him.

It's tough, it really is.

(and to all of those I've burned-out along the way, you have my abiding respect, and thanks...)

So there I was, facing fatigue on the part of many of my collaborators and facing a very real creative fatigue of my own.  I just didn't really have much left in me.  I wasn't really able to push much more.

And that's a problem in the arts because you always have to PUSH to get the good stuff.

So the Rep asks for a trailer and we don't have one to send.

So, off I go to another collaborator, one who's (I'm hoping) a little less fatigued than some of the others and one who I've never tapped to do this kind of work but have often thought of.

He's game.

We cut a trailer.

It's good.

We send it to L.A.

They LOVE it.  LOVE the site.  Want to see the screener.

And here's where the rubber hit the road.

"Oh man.  He wants to see the movie.  With all it's warts and bruises.  He wants to see it."

I'll never forget driving the screener to FedEx that day.

I sat in my car at the drop, and prayed.  Not a stupid "make me a millionaire" prayer.  An honest, emotionally naked, cry from the heart for the Lord to have mercy on me and help this thing have the ZING it needed.

('cause when it comes down to it, it really is [and only is] about the movie...)

Sent it.

Waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Then the email came:

"Hi Todd, I just wanted to let you know that I've screened the film (you guys did a great job) and will give you a shout tomorrow to discuss it going forward. What is the best number to get you at tomorrow? Thanks..."

How crazy is that?

I mean, just like that, the lines of communication between hallowed Hollywood and lil' ol' me are flung wide and things start happening.

I couldn't believe it then and I still don't believe it now.

I'm not freaking out or anything--not rushing out to buy a sailboat or a big-screen-- just doing what I always do, and happy and tired and emotional and humbled at the fact that I'm starting to find my way, and (as always) awed at the uncertainty and the promise of it all.

Since that email our lawyers have shuttled the right papers back and forth, we've settled on two more scripts of mine the Rep would like to set up and--oh wonder of wonders--one of the scripts was read at one of the Major Studio's a couple weeks ago and my Rep emailed me to say he was  'having drinks' with the development exec at the studio to discuss the positive reaction they'd gotten and see about setting it up.

The other script (a huge adventure film) is also getting great response.

Aww, heck, here's what he said:

"He see(s) this as a very commercial high concept spec that he expects will sell to one of the majors..."

Done made my hair stand up all over my body.

Now, it goes without saying that all of this is still very much 'work in progress' and there's a chance (there's always a chance) that none of it will come to anything.

But it's progress.

And that, my preaching/producing friends is what life and this thing we do is all about.

Progress.

Baby steps.

One foot in front of the other along the road less travelled.

T