Dear Writers,

Here are are some recent VPF news items:

-VPF client Michael Eging’s script “Song of Roland” was recently optioned by VPF’s Cine L.A.

-Rebel Entertainment is now seeking scripts with a built-in, existing market, and those with mass commercial potential for 16-24-year-olds.

-Spring Creek Productions has added “Blood Diamond” and “Recount” to their list of recent credits.

-Seth Lockhart Presents has changed their name to “Cinematic Instinct.”

-Velocity Management is in development on John Grisham’s “The Partner,” and are now looking for Comedies, Thrillers, and TV projects.

-VPF has added both WhiteBread Films and NYC Entertainment to its list of Producers.

-VPF client Nevada Grey has launched a funny web-series called “The Other Normal.” You can view episodes of the show on:

http://www.youtube.com/user/NevadaGrey2010. Check them out!

Good luck pitching!

Hey folks–I just wanted to let y’all know that we have just re-signed Bad Robot, producers of such hits as “Lost” and “Mission: Impossible III.” Other credits include “Star Trek,” “Fringe,” and “Cloverfield.” They are actively seeking All Genres, including TV! Also, we have the following FREE PITCH DEALS going on through Monday, October 20th:

5 + 1 FREE PITCH = 6 pitches for $50!

10 + 2 FREE PITCHES = 12 pitches for $90!

Once you sign-up and payment is received, the FREE PITCHES will be added to your VPF account!

Good luck pitching!

I’ve been reading and hearing a lot about how this election is going to be based on “story” and personal narrative rather than on issue — as if this is something new. It isn’t. It’s as old as Camelot (Arthur’s or JFK’s — take your pick). People have always viewed most of life’s issues through the prism of “story,” and nothing is more important in story than your main characters.

Americans have a very specific and emotional connection to a certain kind of story. In my screenwriting classes, one of the things I try to convey about constructing a protagonist is that it isn’t just about creating a lovable underdog or determining how fascinating a person’s journey will be. If you’re creating a protagonist you want an audience to root for (not all protagonists fit this mold, by the way, but candidates must), it is also about creating the sense of innate decency, however that may be framed. And the framing often involves a conflict between what is innate and what is learned, i.e., that which is inherently NOT innate. Nature trumps nurture. This is the fundamental paradox in how Americans think about education: everyone says they support it, wants it for their child — but distrusts it in anyone else. Anyone who excels at an “elite” institution is simultaneously viewed with admiration and suspicion. In story — in movies — higher (elite) education is associated with power, and therefore with the forces of antagonism, with those who keep the common person down, who’ve somehow learned to manipulate the system for their own gain and everyone else’s loss. Therefore the protagonist must have wits — but not if they’ve been corrupted by elite education.Americans have a deep story sense that this honest, if uninformed, native wit will win out and preserve the decency of ordinary society.

It’s about heart, not mind.

That’s why education is often associated in the popular imagination with the forces of evil: the powers that be, the viziers who control a kind of magic that is incomprehensible to the common person, and that keeps the masses confused and subservient. There are any number of examples: take for example the first “Rocky”: on the Bicentennial of the country, with a running theme of patriotism and flag-waving, a down-home unknown challenger with a pit-bull spirit is up against a intelligent, attractive, verbally agile African-American champion. Sound familiar? Guess who wins (eventually)? In “Forrest Gump,” a man who is mentally impaired has a Christ-like, redemptive effect on those who are too smart by half–like Lt. Dan–or too corrupted by knowledge of the world, like Jenny. They are brought back into the world of good old American values by Forrest’s literal incapacity to become educated to the ways of the world — in other words, to lose his innocence to its devilish complexities. This goes back a long way, especially for those who believe the Biblical narrative as given truth: eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge itself was the reason we were cast out of Eden. Cast the same actor, Tom Hanks, as a brilliant Harvard professor, as in “The Da Vinci Code,” and you’ve got yourself a colossal bomb (sure, the book was a huge bestseller, but those are small numbers compared with a high box-office movie — which is by far the more popular form of entertainment. And those are the numbers a successful candidate needs).

Americans have deep sense of destiny, which is connected to values rather than to knowledge: because of what we believe rather than what we learn, we can recover Eden — that America is in some sense an Eden, humanity’s “the last, best hope.” And the devil, like Al Pacino’s John Milton in “The Devil’s Advocate,” is the dark adversary, the hyper- educated lawyer who represents everything we distrust — who represents, on a deep emotional level, Damnation itself. Most Bond villains are similarly hyper-intellectual, elite, and therefore, dangerous. They are also vain and arrogant — and so, of course, John Milton’s last line is “Vanity…my favorite sin.” And what is vanity but an exaggerated and distorted sense of self-knowledge?

This is why the rational argument that being highly educated and able to speak at length to complex issues is a good thing, does not resonate. In fact, it hurts candidates more than helps them, because rational argument cannot win against the emotional narratives that order our perception of the world. Blake Snyder has identified a genre he calls “The Fool Triumphant,” which is a very savvy way of looking at it. But there’s more to it. Deep in our story DNA is a longing to believe in the possibility of a return to the state of Adam before he bit the apple, and a deep distrust of the wily serpent who promises, and represents, knowledge. We can see this playing out in our national politics, just as we see it in our movies. And it’s an immensely valuable weapon to have at hand in your story-telling arsenal.

Not every good idea makes it.

Let’s talk for a moment about the worst part of screenwriting – when the time comes to put a script in a drawer. It’s hard. It’s like you’ve had someone close to you die. This thing that you’ve spent days, weeks, maybe even years with…has lost its ability to breathe and to live. There isn’t anything you can do for it; there’s no CPR for a good idea that’s gotten off track. There comes a point when you have to put it away and move on. You want to believe you could have made it work, but you know in your heart it just failed and there was nothing you could do. You want to mourn, and you want to spend some time second-guessing yourself. My advice is: don’t.

What you have to do at a time like this is get out of the house. Watch some movies, visit (if you’re in the L.A. area) the Huntingdon Gardens. Spend some time with family and friends. Read. Go to the zoo. Tell everyone you’re working on a novel, but don’t be.

You’re going to need some time to not write. What you really need is some time spent living your life as it is at present, not after the next script or the one after that. The truth is that there are only two reasons good ideas die on the vine, and both require the same prescription afterwards. Reason #1 is because you didn’t get it to the right person. It didn’t click in the way it needed to click with them. Screenwriting is unavoidably collaborative. Reason# 2 is because you’ve gotten so wrapped up in writing, you’ve forgotten to live. Since your script is just an extension of yourself, if you stop living your life so does your script.

At some point when this happens, the thought will occur to you that it will take you longer to get this script right then it will to write a new and better one. When this happens, you need to have the sense to let it go. And then take some time to go back to being yourself. Find the person that has felt pushed and pulled and generally manic. Get them normal again.

And when you are once again of sound mind and body, and when the grieving process has passed, start writing.

Write about life.