First Impressions and the U.S. Mail

The first batch of query letters is in the mail. If this works the way I think it does, between 9:00 am and lunch tomorrow 10 people with a serious amount of influence over the direction our lives could take will be opening envelopes, then judging me.

A query letter is essentially a job interview. If you do well, if you stand out, then you get a second interview.  More than likely, however, the response will be a form letter, or worse – nothing. 

I’ve taught a few semesters of an employment preparation class to college freshman and sophomores. The syllabus I created was pretty straightforward: resume basics and interview pointers.  Don’t lie, don’t misspell, don’t use an idiotic sounding email address.  Dress well, look people in the eye, don’t chew gum.

In a more general way we discussed how to stand out…but in a good way.  “Yes, an interesting font will make you stand out, but may be hard or annoying to read.”

One thing we never discussed was stamps.

Most resumes these days are emailed or posted online, so maybe the stamp thing is a moot point. But any way to stand out, right?  When I asked the woman at the post office what my options were at the current rate (I didn’t know how much a first class stamp costs) she seemed almost happy to pull out the book and show me.  She flipped the pages, sort of softly narrating, like she was going through a photo album. 

Nothing struck me until she said Mark Twain.  What says, “Hey, look at how clever I am,” more than a Mark Twain stamp?  Then two pages later she opened it up to Legends of Hollywood. Gregory Peck.

Done!

Of course, in the end what really matters is the letter.  That makes or breaks the deal on its own.  But like in an interview, if you can make someone smile for even a second right when you meet them, that’s irreplaceable.  Everyone knows first impressions matter, but few people (in my experience) appreciate how much it matters. 

Maybe they won’t even notice it; they open a thousand letters a day. But it’s a damn good looking stamp, a good size too.  No offense to anyone else who’s played the role, Peck is Ahab.  

But if they look, and if they see it, and if they’re a movie fan (as you'd expect at an agency that reps actors and screenwriters), then maybe they pause for a second, linger on Peck’s face, think about his place in the history of film, and that makes them smile, then when they start reading the letter I have them right where I want them, if only subconsciously, of only for a second.

I’m thinking about ordering the Cary Cooper stamp for the next batch.  

Deconstructing the Query: or Query for the Leery

Dear Whomever

The one thing any letter has to have going for it is sincerity. If it’s not honest in content and tone, then it’s built on a shaky foundation; this seems obvious, and maybe even like an oversimplification, but it bears keeping in mind.  More than the thesis, more than erudition, if a letter’s not honest then it’s worthless. The best thing this letter has going for it is the sincerity and earnestness of its author.  The trick is getting that across without using either of those words.

Beyond the obvious and general tenet of honesty (a characteristic many people seem to be lacking) a letter must be keenly focused; what is your thesis?  (Or, as I used to ask my ENG 101 and 102 students, what’s your fucking point?) 

The point here is to garner interest; interest in our work and talents as screenwriters in particular, but as dramatists in general: we can write for film, stage, comically, dramatically...you want it, we’ll put it to words.  We’ve written great stuff and will continue to do so.  Now pay us.

With the poignancy of a character-driven drama and the tension of a great thriller,   This isn’t a poker game, we’re not romancing agents; we’re trying to convince them.  And like a script (or a short story, or novel, or play, or joke...) if you don’t hook them immediately then you don’t have them at all.  There’s no second chance.  What’s your script? It’s poignant, character-driven, dramatic, and thrilling, that’s what it is! Ashes follows the lives not a day in the life, but their lives of brothers Patrick and Andrew Sullivan who specialize in sterilizing crime scenes after homicides, suicides, and “bio-hazardous events.” The unrelenting violence in Chicago that toddlin’ town with one of the highest murder rates in America is great for business, but it threatens to shatter the lives, and even sanity, of everyone it touches, especially those paid to clean up the mess. Aftermath, Inc., was a quarterfinalist in the BlueCat Screenwriting competition, earning praise from its judges, who said it was “a rewarding read,” with “great tension” and “great dialogue” “created[ed] with a highly enjoyable style and the polish of a professional storyteller.”

There’s nothing like third-party affirmation. Yes, it’s important to think your work is good. And it’s great when friends and family think it’s good (“seriously, it’s reeeeally good”), but when outsiders, especially professionals, tell you it’s good, then you might be on to something.

Since completing Aftermath, writers Ken Gayton and Pablo A. Rajczyk have gone on to complete four full-length screenplays, Armchair Quarterbacks, David’s War, Official Rejects, and Rednecks vs. Zombies.[1]

Yes, that’s a footnote in a query letter. In the research I did I found nothing about pitching multiple scripts or multiple writers. By simply adding two biographical paragraphs we solve the latter problem.  It’s a little more complicated with five scripts and this is our intelligent but hopefully successful strategy.  Query letters are supposed to be one page, and this one is. The script summaries will also be one page.

We don’t mention ourselves until the second paragraph.  It would be easy to jump in and say, ‘Hi, we’re Ken and Pablo and we rock the shit.” But, like a good screenplay, we start with the action, and the story is the action.  We’re selling ourselves (there’s a loaded sentence) but what matters is the work, so that’s the starting point. 

Pablo Rajczyk was awarded the Harold Washington Scholarship, a full academic grant, to attend Wright College, earning a degree in journalism with honors. Penny thinks I should eliminate the previous sentence.  No one, she says, cares if you earned an associate degree in journalism. While I get that point, and it’s probably true, it’s not the degree I’m trying to showcase here, but the fact that A) I have a degree in journalism, AGS or otherwise, and that B) I finish what I start and seek betterment. I also don’t think it hurts to point out that I earned a full academic scholarship in a city-wide program.  He went on to receive his BA in English from Columbia College. Sadly, the Columbia in Chicago, not the one in New York City.  There’s nothing wrong with Columbia College, there’s everything right about Columbia University.  Pablo then earned his MFA in creative writing from the New School University in New York City. You know, of Inside the Actor’s Studio and Project Runway fame.  Pablo won 2^nd place in Writer’s Digest Magazine’s play writing competition for his play Living with Women.  His second play (in a planned trilogy), Holding Court, was produced by La Costa Theatre in Chicago.

In the first draft my biographical paragraph was too long (and was actually two paragraphs). It’s a weird thing pitching yourself to strangers with money. How much information is too much, and conversely, how much is too little? Should I include my years of teaching college? I think not; who wants to hire an English teacher to sell sex, drugs and rock and roll?  Should I mention that I’ve had a couple short stories published (online)? Definitely not. I mean, shit, who hasn’t had stuff published online? (I love Divine Caroline, but does an agent really care?)

Ken Gayton studied comedy at Second City, Comedy Sportz, and Improv Olympic in Chicago.  He co-wrote, starred-in, directed, edited and independently produced his first film The Truth About Average Guys, which was awarded multiple prizes at the East Lansing Film Festival including best feature. Is there anything this guy can’t do? His second film S.O.L., also featuring Ken in numerous creative roles, won the Audience Choice award at the Trail Dance Film Festival.  I’ve read that winning the Audience Award at a film festival is better than winning Best Feature because that’s who buys the tickets.  I think I read it in an interview with Ken, actually, but fortunately Boy Wonder has done both.

Ken’s bio was also longer, but for the same reasons I kept mine brief, I did the same with his.  Ken’s accomplishments can easily fill half a page, but the question every writer needs to ask of every scene, every page, every word is a simple ‘what’s relevant?’  That’s the only question that matters.

Compelled to create, This is true...we are compelled Ken is currently preparing to film his script Wingmen, Inc., while Pablo is putting the finishing touches on his play Dadville and working on the nearly two dozen screenplays he has in various stages of completion. Ken and Pablo are currently writing episodes and three-season character arcs for a potential television series based on The Truth About Average Guys. I’m fully aware that the ‘a’ in ‘about’ should not be capitalized: don’t capitalize prepositions in a title. But it looks better capitalized, and it’s as much a logo as it is a title – TTAAG looks better than TTaAG.  To paraphrase Melville in Moby Dick, aesthetics is a part of everything.

What have you done for me lately? That’s what most people want to know. In friendships, relationships, even parenting (at least so far) the unspoken (and sometimes spoken) question is the same: what are you doing NOW? For us this isn’t about selling a script, or even a handful; it’s about making careers. If you like what we’ve written so far, wait to see what we're truly capable of doing. 

We would be grateful for the opportunity to send a longer synopsis or the full script of any of our stories.

Finally, we get to what I call The Ask. When I was teaching college prep (BUS 200) we did a lot of work with cover letters and resumes, and one of the things I always emphasized was The Ask.  It’s like a date...you want a second one, you gotta ask. “Can I see you again?”  If the date is going well and you don’t want it to end quite yet, “Can I come up for a drink?” It’s really hard to get to yes if you don’t ask the right question the right way.

Sincerely,

Ken Gayton and Pablo A. Rajczyk

We’re hardly the first to struggle (emotionally, at least) about the seemingly opposing forces that are Art and Commerce. As any writer (from Nobel Prize winner to closet scribbler) knows, it’s easy to become emotionally attached to every word put on paper. Self editing is hard, outside critique is even harder (and sometimes harsher).  But as the cliché goes, writing is rewriting. That applies to everything. Of course I’ve made typos in blog posts or emails, dropped an occasional preposition or ‘s’ when meaning to pluralize, but that’s not an option in a letter like this.  We’re writers, and even the smallest grammatical error can mean the difference between a form letter and a phone call.

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[1] Please see second page for a synopsis of each script.

That Damn Query Letter | LinkedIn

I just posted a sort-of open letter titled That Damn Query Letter | LinkedIn to two of my LinkedIn forums, Screenwriting and Fade In. I haven't used LinkedIn to find a job, which seems to be its main purpose, but I've been accumulating connections and perusing (and occasionally) participating in the forums.

The problem with these forums is that a lot of the time they're filled with people who have such an inflated view of their own skills and knowledge married to (an apparent) self loathing that can only be exorcised by being shitty to everyone except for a select few who genuflect before their missives. Of course, there are times when the help of fellow travelers and those who are (or have been) where you want to go is the greatest help one can find.

If you don't have a LinkedIn account, the following is the text of my post.

After finishing our fifth screenplay my writing partner and I have decided to begin searching for an agent. Our first script (written two years ago) made it to the quarterfinals of the BlueCat competition, and though we didn't win we received some very quotable praise. So my first question is should we drop a couple of the juicer quotes into the letter?

While there are a few decent resources, almost all the query letter writing information I've seen falls into the basic category of structure: polite greeting, story hook, short bio, etc. but none of them says squat about trying to get representation for multiple scripts. Obviously, we could write the logline for each of our scripts, or write five different letters, but if anyone has another suggestion we're all ears.

Finally, none of the information I've seen says anything about submitting a query with multiple writers attached to projects. Again, we can just write two bio paragraphs, but are there are other considerations, such as the fact that if they signed us they'd be getting twice the talent for the same price (put, of course, more politely and professionally). Or is it sufficient to just let it be known that there are two writers?

I've written two award winning plays and my writing partner has independently written, starred-in, edited, directed and produced two films that have done well in the small film festival circuit, including winning a best-of award and an audience choice award. We' re confident (though perhaps delusional) that the writing is there and will continue to improve. What we're not so sure about is this infernal process of gaining representation.

Thanks in advance for your help

The Great Agent Hunt

I love it when a sentence has multiple meanings.

I'm currently in the process of trying to find an agent.  I have next-to no idea how to do this other than researching the process, which means reading lots of articles authored by people I've never heard of, (thus making me reflexively wonder what the hell they know about it) and Google. (Anyone know a good literary agent?)

The process seems simple enough.  Write a brilliant query letter.  Send to agents.  Await glowing replies.  Make lots of money (or, at least, a half-decent living) writing full-time.  Live happily ever after.

This schematic, obviously, omits certain significant points.  Such as, A) have sizable body of quality material. Check.  B) Emotionally prepare for an avalanche of rejection.  Check.  C) It's a one-in-a-million shot.  Uh...well, I don't really have a response to that other than see B).

Wish me luck.