Rejectology: A New Science

I was writing and waiting, as usual, when I received an email from our manager:

“hi guys,

i just got off the phone with [Production Company] -- unfortunately, [Exec] read [Sample Scripts] and did not respond to either one of them so they are going to be passing for the [Best-Selling Book] project. I wish I had better news but there isnt anything you can do when they dont like the samples..”

We pitched this producer and their VP our take over the phone two weeks ago. Both seemed keen on our ideas. Our manager had been told it was ours to lose. And up until the conference call, we were under the impression both execs had already read our samples and our take would be the key…

Even the consolation—that the VP told our manager she’d taken for granted we were a “go” and disagreed with her boss—didn’t make it much easier.

I am able to put the feeling of rejection into two distinct sections: 1) empty on the inside (probably because I feel there is nothing left to give); 2) heavy on the outside (as in the pressure of the whole world has wrapped around me and I’m screwed).

Questions explode mutedly in my mind, and I wonder:

“Are they right? Is the script not as good as we thought? Are we not as good as we thought? Will anyone ever see us as better than this?”

FLASHBACK:

I recall walking home to the lab after our first script meeting with our manager. The script was so troubled she wouldn’t read past page thirty. We were sent back to the drawing board; and this by someone that loved our first two scripts enough to take us on as clients.

The street was empty, sun setting—family and friends thousands of miles away—and the world felt large, and me not a part of it.

I thought “All that effort and still not good enough. What do I have to do?”

It didn’t take long to find a formula.

PRESENT DAY:

I have to believe that the samples are strong and that this producer is wrong. I need to believe that the writing is worthy and that one day these stories will appear on screen—and when that day comes, this person will realize they were wrong…

…and this is when I remember one of the films is already in preproduction.

And as our manager told the VP that had to make the call: “…the other is going to be one of the biggest franchises this town has ever seen.”

Nothing is absolute—and we all tell ourselves these things—but I’ll have to see it not happen permanently before I believe it won’t.

So this time I have a little more to hold on to. It does get a bit easier. Sometimes.

I’ll move on ASAP and direct all my focus back to script 13; it may be rejected down the line, but not by me. Like I always tell MPC, Anthony, Jeff, and all the other writers I conspire with: “the only thing in our control is our script.”

Every time I step away from a car-bomb of rejection, I keep my eyes fixed on the future. The next script will be better.

Maybe, even, because I’m a little hungrier.

It’s all subjective anyway.