The Rough Draft

This was the comment from a Editor of a very large Canadian publishing house after I
pitched my latest novel “Canada Day.” It didn’t bother me that I had spent 3 years
writing it, it didn’t bother me that she rejected the concept without even reading
the synopsis or sample chapters. What really got my juices flowing was she rejected
it because it was set in Canada, with Canadian characters and themes unique
to our country. Her next utterance underscored this point exactly “Perhaps
if you changed the setting to the States we may be able to do something.”

I can’t say I was totally surprized by the editors response. When I first
discussed the premise of the story to my writing group, many including Steve
Abbott, told me flat out that it wouldn’t sell. It was too Canadian, which is code for
not commercial enough. That was the point, I responded, It’s a story about our people,
our country and our government. I had no interest in writing it in any other setting.
It wouldn’t work.

Well they were right, but so was I.

In movie parlance the best way to describe the plot of Canada Day is
Terry Fox meets the West Wing. Sad commentary that I have to use a popular American
cultural product like the West Wing to convey the essence of my Canadian novel, but
if I said Terry Fox meets the Centre Block, no one would understand. I write slow.
So for a story to hold my attention and demand my time for three years
it had better be pretty compelling. I think Canada Day is.
It’s a story that deserved to be written, but apparently not sold.

Now I have a manuscript with no market. One helpful soul suggested,"Throw in a lesbian from
Winnipeg with angry breasts and you can pitch it as a Literary piece. That’ll sell.”
I laughed but not before seriously considering it. However, I ultimately decided
I’m not going to change it, I still believe in the power of my story, even though the marketplace doesn’t.

I guess what I’m most upset about is how little we as Canadians respect our own stories.
How little we value our own experiences. If we don’t support or read our own creative works
why should we expect anyone else to. I often wonder if America is such a powerful
country because they create such powerful stories about themselves and more
importantly, they believe them.

I don’t know, I’m just going to keep writing until I figure it out.

Stephen O’Hearn

Chances are if you’re just starting out and are pitching the smaller production companies eager to land that first option or sale, you’re going to be offered one of two types of deal.

The first is a small option, usually eighteen months with a six month renewal clause. Some companies like to go twelve and twelve. The other side of this deal is a small buyout if and when the film gets made. This is an okay deal to go with if you
a.) Haven’t sold anything yet and need to get the notch on your belt.
b.) It’s not a script you really care too much about.
If the particular script is your baby, your Oscar script, keep it under wraps and write something nice and commercial for these folks.

The second option is one on the back end. Now in reality, most of the Canadian system works this way right now through production fees. You get paid for the option / development / screenplay and then when the film is in production, you receive production fees based on a percentage of the shooting budget. Of course at this point you’d be getting scale or better. What I mean by back end here is you get nothing or a very small option up front for backend money later. NEVER TAKE THIS MONEY ON A PERCENTAGE OF THE GROSS. And even taking it on the net can screw you. Believe me, film accounting is an art of showing no profit yet to be acquired by most Colombian Drug Lords. Instead, you take your cut based on a percentage of the production budget. It’s usually between two and three percent here in Canada. Sounds pretty good so far right?

Maybe. The key to a good back end deal is the strength of your contract and to get that squared, you’re going to need the help of a good Entertainment Lawyer (your agent is going to advise against this sort of thing). Because even though you might be doing this with good friends, it makes it a lot easier if your agreement is well spelled out for the both of you. It keeps the back biting to a minimum.

At this stage, the devil really is in the details. You have to gaze into your crystal ball and figure out what the end game is going to be. Can you work with these people? Will they be able to bring the project to fruition? Will they try to screw you or unknowingly screw you when the going gets tough? Will you get paid? I can’t advise you here. You’ve got to go with your gut. Which sounds like a sellout but it isn’t every time I’ve gone with my gut I’ve been satisfied with the end result. Every time I’ve used reason, I’ve been screwed. But what your indigestion tells you to do is up to you and you alone.

As I’ve said before, there is no magic bullet in this industry and as of late I’ve begun to believe that it’s not how much talent you have which will see you through but how much damage you can take and how much shit you can eat. There are plenty of writers out there much more talented than the likes of myself who will never see the light of day because they can’t take the industry and its bullshit.

The real question is, “Will this take me to a new level of play?” If the answer is yes, then you should consider taking, “Less,” now so that you can spin it into a, “More,” situation later. Remember, we’re always working towards the next project. A certain amount of crap now can pay off big later. I’ve yet to see dime one from any of my short films but their benefit as completed visual calling cards of my work is invaluable.

Back end deals? The choice is yours but no risk equals no reward.

Good luck and good writing.

Steve Abbott