Hurray for Hollywood! Sorta …

From time to time, I get some interest in the rights to do other media based on my novels. Generally, this goes to TV or screen rights, sometimes a game or graphic novel, like that.

How it works is, a producer (or, more often, a would-be producer, more on that in a bit) approaches with an offer for an option on a work.

An option here, meaning the rights to do, say, a movie, are rented for a specific period, usually six months or a year. During this time, the producer tries to raise money for the project. If that happens, the option turns into a sale, with more money for the work, usually tied to a percentage of the production costs going to the writer. 

On a big-budget movie, this is winning the lottery. Say, for instance, somebody has a hundred million to spend on a moving picture, and your agent gets you three percent, you can see how that would make your day better.

This is not, alas, how it usually goes. Usually, the option runs its course, the producer couldn’t interest the money-folk in ponying up, the rights revert, and Bob’s your uncle.

In my case, I have had some of my stuff optioned a dozen times, gotten the small money, without getting the green light.

Some of the would-be producers worked hard at it; some not so much.

Hollywood is the land of sunshine up your sarong and blue, blue, bootstrap skies. The Biz runs on hustle, and you need that to get to the intersection, much less the green light.

However …

The dividing line between the serious hustler and the Tijuana haggler is simple: If you are willing to pay for an option, presumably with your own money? I will listen to your pitch.

If you are seeking a free option for a year, in the hope you can wheel and deal and make something happen and we all get rich?

No. You haven’t put anything at risk, and if you can’t get something going, all it costs you is your time. And ties up the work for however long.

I confess that earlier in my career, I allowed myself to get hustled thus. Guys who could talk the talk, promise the moon, drop names hither and yon? I let myself be convinced. Visions of sugar plums danced in my head, and that’s what they use: 

Oh, yeah, Brad and Leo and Scarlett would loove to do this! Spielberg!  Scorsese! Let’s make it happen!

Not any more. Whatever value my stuff might have, the only way you get to play with it is to cross my palm with silver, I will send your note to my agent, and we’ll see, but if Brad and Leo and Scarlett are hot for it? If Steve or Marty are ready to sign on?

Tell ‘em to gimme a call, hey?

Manage that. you are a player.