Hollywood Can Kiss My Ass!

There I was, a Southern author relaxing, and enjoying a quite day reading my copy of The Elements of Style written by William Strunk Jr. and E.B White. It was a small 80 page book which had been around for 70 years. Many authors such as myself considered it ‘’the writer’s bible’‘, and I was enchanted by its wisdom every time I read it. Then all of a sudden, the phone rang. I wondered ‘’who the hell could be calling at this time of day?’‘. When I heard the voice on the other end of the phone, I couldn’t believe who it was!

‘’Hi, this is Michael Diller.’‘ the voice said.

‘’The famous movie producer?’‘ I asked.

‘’Yes. I loved your latest novel, and the studio is interested in adapting it into a summer blockbuster.’‘ he replied.

‘’I see. How much would I get paid?’‘ I asked.

‘’$150,000 dollars’‘, he replied.

‘’Would I get compensated for any sequels, remakes, or TV spinoffs?’‘ I asked.

‘’Of course’‘, he replied.

‘’Who’d get the rights to it?’‘ I asked.

‘’You keep the rights to your novel, the studio gets the rights to the movie.’‘ he replied.

‘’Would I be able to write the screenplay or get any creative control?’‘ I asked.

‘’No.’‘ he replied.

‘’Why not?’‘ I asked.

‘’Your style is alright for some slow paced novel, but this movie’s gotta be a fast paced blockbuster for the movie to be a big box office smash, so we’d need the right kinda screenwriter for this movie, and the studio has final say over the movie.’‘ he replied.

‘’If you plan to go through with this, you’ll be hearing from my attorney, and your ass’ll be in court you son of a bitch! You understand me?’‘ I exclaimed.

Who did this stupid son of a bitch think he was trying to steal my creation? I had never been so pissed off in my life! After I hung up the phone, I sat there at the computer typing away in anger. I need to blow off the steam from talking to this stupid producer. Stupid investors with no knowledge of the story just give me a bad case of the shits! The phone rang again, better not be another god damn idiot from Hollywood!

‘’Hello?’‘ I asked.

‘’Hi, I’m Steven Lucas, I’m an independent filmmaker.’‘ he replied.

‘’And you wanna do a movie adaptation of my novel, right?’‘ I asked.

‘’Yes I would.’‘ he replied.

‘’Would I get paid $150,000 dollars for the film adaptation?’‘ I asked.

‘’Yes.’‘ he replied.

‘’Would I get compensated for any sequels, remakes, or TV spinoffs?’‘ I asked.

‘’I don’t have the money to compete with the big Hollywood studios, but I assure you’ll still be compensated for any rights and privileges associated with this movie.’‘ he replied.

‘’Would I get the rights to this movie?’‘ I asked.

‘’Yes.’‘ he replied.

‘’So would I also get creative control?’‘ I asked.

‘’No I would get final say, since I’m bringing your vision to the screen.’‘ he replied.

‘’Then why are you giving me the rights if your not gonna give me creative control?’‘ I asked.

‘’It’s just paper.’‘ he replies.

‘’No, your trying to screw me over! Stay away from my movie or I’ll kick your ass!’‘ I shouted.

I hung up the phone again, even independent filmmakers are now trying to rip me off! Who in the hell do these Hollywood people think they are? They steal people’s creations and take credit for it themselves! I know its good business and all, but how can authors such as Stephen King and Danielle Steele put up with it? Now I know why William Faulkner turned to writing screenplays in his later years. The phone rang yet again!

‘’Who is it?’‘ I asked.

‘’This is Dustin Hanks.’‘ the voice replied.

‘’The Academy Award winning actor?’‘ I asked.

‘’Yes I am.’‘ he replied.

‘’You wanna do a movie based on my novel too, right?’‘ I asked.

‘’Oh yes! I think it could win an Oscar!’‘ he replied.

‘’Would I get paid the standard $150,000 dollar fee for the adaptation?’‘

‘’Yes of course.’‘ he replied.

‘’What about sequels, remakes, and TV spinoffs?’‘ I asked.

‘’Well, I don’t know if I’d wanna turn it into a big money making franchise, but I’d be more than willing to work with you on adaptations of my other books also.’‘ he replied.

‘’Who gets the rights to the movie?’‘ I asked.

‘’You and I’ll discuss those details at a later time.’‘ he replied.

‘’Well, do I get to write the screenplay or get creative control?’‘ I asked.

‘’No, a screenwriter will be hired to write it, and I’ll have final say over the picture.’‘ he replied.

‘’Oh, so this is just some lame attempt to get another Oscar? Screw you!’‘ I exclaimed.

Dammit! I wish these losers from Hollywood would quit trying to screw me over! What in the hell is their god damn problem? They wouldn’t know common sense if it bit ‘em in the ass! I realize they have to make money, but why can’t they give screenwriters the recognition they deserve? There are three types of movies. There’s the producer’s movie where a studio executive oversees the development of a summer blockbuster which he makes sure becomes a hit at the box office and paves the way for a big profitable franchise, full of sequels, remakes, and spinoffs on television.

Then there’s the director’s movie where a filmmaker has a clear vision for what he wants capture on film and see it through to how it’s presented on the screen. And at last, there’s the actor’s movie which revolves around your typical A-List celebrity, and is often the type of movie which gets nominated for an Academy Award. Either way, a writer is gonna get screwed out of his own movie. Dammit, the phone’s ringing again!

‘’What is it now?’‘ I asked.

‘’Honey, it’s just me. I just called to let you know I’d be home in a few minutes.’‘ my wife replied.

‘’Alright, see you then.’‘ I said.

‘’Is something wrong?’‘ she asked.

‘’No, just a bunch idiots making prank phone calls.’‘ I said.

‘’Alright, I’ll be there in a few minutes, bye.’‘ she said.

‘’Bye Sweetie.’‘ I said.