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 2nd 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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