On Getting Rejected. Again.

I'm sitting in my parents' house, giant cup of Gorilla Coffee in hand (yes, I *do* bring my own coffee with me), and getting ready to embark on the next phase of development for LULLABY - the staged screenplay reading.

But this is not projectile writing (wherein I throw the 'To Do' list at you) this is recap writing, wherein I give you the "To Done" list.

So.

Once again, this past week has been a blur of activity of phone calls, emails and running around like a chicken with my head cut off. So instead of boring you, I'll write about something else that happened.

I got another rejection.

Caption reads: "Can you rewrite this in 3-D?"

(Sorry for the fuzzy photo, it was taken with my iPhone from this week's New Yorker on my lap while sitting on the plane.)

While prepping for this upcoming screenplay reading is just one of the myriad of things on my plate, it is, in fact, only a side dish.

The "meat" (or seitan patty, if you're a vegetarian), is shopping the script to producers.

One of the biggest challenges for me is to say aloud, "I can't do it alone." But for a film, you can't. You truly can't. And while I have learned so much in the five years since I left Opera, there is still so much more that I don't know how to do, or more importantly, know I should NOT be doing.

Plus, I'm a first-time feature filmmaker. Despite the number of features I've worked on in other capacities, the handful of shorts I've made solo, and the years and years of theatrical production under my belt, it is all null and void when putting together your first film.

And it sucks.

Finding the right producer is critical to getting a film made the right way. It's not just about finding someone who can help raise money (although I'm not going to turn those folks away), it's about finding a partner. Someone who can shepherd the project, from every angle: script, casting, budget, crew, post, director's sanity. They are the people who keep the Big Picture in mind - always. So when you wonder why it's the producer who gets the Best Picture Oscar, that's why.

Producers. Make. Films.

That's why I need a good one.

And that's why every rejection from people I admire is that much more painful. Filmmakers work in a vacuum more often than not, and validation is not something that is afforded to us on a regular basis.

But.

Rejection is part of the game, and learning to take those three minutes to cry openly in front of 2,000 strangers in a crowded LGA terminal while waiting to board your plane is important.

Mourn the loss.

And then remember that the loss is not only yours.

*insert smiley face*

So... here it is. I contemplated not posting this, but this is an account of the development of the film, is it not? I can say with all honesty that, while I usually try to paint a rosy picture for my audience (Hello, Audience!), there are more days like yesterday; filled with rejection, disappointment and heartbreak, than there are days when you jump up and down with excitement.

But those days when you do get to jump up and down with excitement?

Totally worth it.

* * * * *

From: Indie Producer

To: Kimberly

Re: Lullaby

Dear Kimberly,

Thank you for sending LULLABY, which we enjoyed reading. Unfortunately, we are not enthusiastic enough about the script to pursue the project, but you can certainly consider us friends of the project and can run any questions you have by us as you proceed with fundraising, production and beyond. We have included a few notes below which we hope will be useful to you.

We were very impressed by your clear, descriptive writing, and ability to set the scene. We also appreciate that you took advantage of the cinematic medium through subtle sound bridges, Kathleen and Tess’ intercut scenes, and attention to visual details. The script is well-paced, and the scenes flow effortlessly.

In addition to the writing, we also enjoyed the world of the retirement home. Placing a Holocaust survivor in that setting is realistic, and you handle the relationships there with a light, humorous touch. Presenting the dining hall as a high school lunch room with cliques of senior citizens rather than teenagers which Tess, the “new girl,” must navigate functions well as comic relief.

Our biggest story note is the need for more mystery. From the initial scenes focusing upon Tess’ husband’s death, we were able to identify Tess’ actions (tearing her lapel in mourning, calling Katherine “ketzl”) as indicators of her Jewish background. As a result, the “reveals” throughout the script emphasize the mystery that we already understand, rather than illuminating new facets of it. Kathleen’s discovery of Tess’ Jewish ritual objects (p. 26) should be a dramatic moment, but we expect it since we’ve already been clued in by Tess’ Yiddish phrases and Jewish customs. The reader becomes certain of Tess’ status as a former, or hidden Jew, long before Kathleen does (on p. 53). If you choose to do a rewrite, we think it should focus on sustaining the mystery longer, and adding twists to ensure that your audience’s epiphany does not precede Kathleen’s.

The strongest parts of LULLABY are the vibrant writing and the exploration of Tess and Kathleen’s emotions— unfortunately, neither of those strengths will necessary come through in a film. You are clearly a very strong writer; have you considered adapting this as a novel? This might showcase your abilities to a greater degree than a screenplay. What’s more, once the novel garners success, it would be much easier for LULLABY to attract financing and to succeed commercially as a film.

Again, thank you for thinking of us for LULLABY. Please let us know if we may clarify any of our notes, or provide you with any additional advice.

* * * * *

I want to take a quick minute to note that this particular letter is *not* typical. These producers were unusually kind and generous with their time and critique of the script, and I'm honored that they gave it so much consideration.