I have a new short story coming out.  The Last Performance of the Neighborhood Summer Theatre Festival, published in an anthology called THE FALL.  This collection is a follow-up to SPRING FEVERS , where I had a story called The Idea Exchange.  Regular readers might recall an earlier blog on short stories being good source material for films.  It still holds true.

All of this publishing has my mind working on the subject of promotion, marketing, and the other I-I-I, Me-Me-Me stuff that so many artists, myself included, kind of hate.

Or at least, we pretend to hate it.

In the American South, where I grew up, it's called "blowing your own horn," and it is the height of self-aggrandizing rudeness.  Ask any Southerner who has moved to Los Angeles and you'll hear the same thing, "I just can't get into this talking about myself all the time the way people do out here."

If Southerners in LA are smart, they'll listen to their friends from other parts of the world.  "You've done good work.  You should be proud of it.  There's nothing wrong with letting people know what you're doing and how they can enjoy it."

And let's face it, the spotlight is a big part of the Arts.  Somewhere, deep down inside, we all got into this business because of our desire for that light.  For some this might be all ego-driven.  For others it might be a need to get our message out into the world.  Whatever the case, in many cultures wanting to be in the spotlight is considered a bad thing.

But in a world with nuclear weapons, starvation, drug abuse, genocide, rude drivers, hang nails, Congressional Representatives who won't compromise with each other, and the cancellation of good TV shows, is it really such a bad thing for an artist who has worked hard on something they feel is worth your time – and money – to say, "Hey, put the spotlight on me for a second."

Hopefully, that will take the spotlight off Honey Boo-Boo for a while.

None my above musings help with how to promote your work.  I think each project has its own special needs.  What I am suggesting is that, if you have a hesitation about self-promotion, then get over it.  If you think you don't care about the spotlight, then stop living in denial.  Art is made to entertain.  If you've created something you're proud of, then you're doing the work an injustice if you don't get out there and sell it.

And if you really struggle with self-promotion, then try rolling it into something else – like the opening paragraph of a blog on an entirely different subject.

THE FALL and SPRING FEVERS are available for download from your favorite e-book providers.  If you'd like an old-fashioned printed version, then you can get SPRING FEVERS here.  Look for a POD verson of THE FALL soon.

Suddenly, Subplots

During this off season, I'm reminded of 2001.  Having won in 2000, I returned to judge in 2001 and a few months after the festival found myself at a party.  When someone found out I'd been a judge, I got an ear-full about "how could you not give the award to such-&-such film?"

I was a little in shock, and couldn't remember the movie right way, except that I liked it.  A few minutes later, the reason it didn't win came to me: a completely stupid, improbable, sub-plot.  In the middle of a wonderful, well-written, well-acted, well-directed film, there was a subplot from hell that belonged on the cutting room floor.  Unfortunately, the subplot was so bad, it dragged the rest of the film down with it.

So whether you're facing picture lock, or the final draft of your script, keep an eye out for that tacked on storyline that doesn't belong.  Trust your characters.  Trust the emotional engine of the story.  If you feel the need to introduce some kind of outside influence on your characters, try cutting it and see if the story still stands up.  If it does, then keep the cuts on the floor. 

Your film will fly higher without the extra weight.

No, Really, Just Tell Us The Plot

We have a long, long wait until we're open for submissions for 2013.  I'll probably repost this when we call for entries, but in the meantime the information should help programmers for other festivals – and filmmakers as well.

When you're filling out your submission forms, there is a section for summaries.  I'm going to let you guys in on the reason why that's included.

After months and months of cramming movies into our brains, writing critiques, having our favorites, etc. etc., we sit down to figure out who is in and who isn't.  Inevitably, a title will be mentioned, followed by a room full of blank looks. 

"What did I write about it?" I'll ask.

Leslee will look up my notes on our absolutely fabulous title tracking program.  "You liked it.  You gave it a Must See and wrote, 'Great cast.  Good filmmaking in all departments.'"

"F*#k me!  Why didn't I say what the movie was about?"  I don't know why I'm surprised, my notes are always like that.

So we look up the summary from the submission form. 

This sweeping low-budget epic tale is a discussion about the inner meaning of the symbolism of life as depicted by the intricate handheld camera work and natural acting style fused with classical influences of Comedia International. 

Crap.  We have to dig out the DVD and watch the movie again.  Two minutes in, we say "Oh, yeah, the one about the unemployed PHD who has to take a job at McDonalds to pay the bills.  Yeah, we like this one."

So when it says "Summary," that's what it means.  Just remind us what the movie is about.  Save the film school stuff for ... film school.

Thanks for reading.

On Gate Keepers In The Digital Revolution

While we're down until next season, thought I'd point you to another blog of mine that is also relevant to filmmakers.

FROM THE WRITE ANGLE

Where I discuss Jeff Bezos's comment about art without Gate Keepers.

Looking for Your Next Short or Feature Film Project?

Funny how sometimes things can stare you right in the face and you don't see it for long time.

Regular readers will know that I am as active as a novelist as I am a filmmaker, and often write about Artistic Cross Training. I've been aware since I saw Rollerball (1975) as a kid that short stories are excellent sources for feature and/or short narrative films. The disciplines coincide well, since both require tight, economic, use of story, character, actions, etc.

And I'm not the only one to think so. In doing some quick research, I ran across this excellent top ten list on the subject.

So what's been staring me in the face? SELF-PROMOTION!

I am published in an anthology called SPRING FEVERS and THE FALL: TALES FROM THE APOCALYPSE  which are available on most e-book platforms. If you are a filmmaker looking for material, these collections are an excellent source.

Short stories are always a labor of love, since they never make any money. Authors great and small will be happy to talk to you about them, so don't hesitate to reach out.

If you're a filmmaker and not a film writer, I'd suggest you read as many anthologies as you can get your hands on. I hope you start with these.

THESE ARE GOOD TIMES

During the Q & A for In Heaven There Is No Beer, Steve Hicks from Fuzz Track City – who was gracious enough to come to just about every movie – asked a brilliant question.

"Do all scenes have to die?"

It was relevant to the film – a documentary about a magical time in the LA music scene – and it was relevant to so much more. The movie screened on the last day of the festival. The last day of year 15. From where I stood on stage I could feel the filmmakers scattered around the audience, or mostly, up in the balcony, have a physical reaction as they realized their scene was about to end.

And I remembered mine. One week in June of 2000 on Sunset Blvd. Standing outside of the Sunset 5 ticket booth hearing a complete stranger say, "Two tickets for 'Jacks Or Better.'" Walking down to Dublin's Pub for happy hour – where some young woman tried to get us to sign up for something called a social website thing for artists. She told us it was a place where we could have a page promoting our work – and none of understood what she was talking about. Three years later it turned out to be MySpace.

I remember not buying a T-shirt and always regretting it. I remember hanging out with Meg and Mitch – and how brilliant their movies were.

The movies.

I remember them the most. Calling Bobcat – a Beer, Booze and Boobs movie about guys on a drinking binge who find Bobcat Goldthwaite's phone number and end up calling him. Goldthwaite isn't in the movie, but my friend and producer, Hilton Smith, had a contact to Bobcat's manager, so we got him to the screening. The last question of the Q & A came from a man in the back, who the filmmaker had to step over to get to the stage. "Yeah," came the iconic voice, "My name is Bobcat Goldthwaite..."

I don't remember the rest of the question, but it ended well.

I remember The Cat Killers hilarious scene of murderers breaking into a man's house as he writes his suicide note. I remember Final Rinse – and how we both landed at the Riverrun Film Festival when it was in Brevard, NC. I remember Cage in Box Elder, Little Red, The Pig Farm – what great people – Meg's True Rights, and of course, Attack of the Bat Monsters.

So many memories packed into such a small amount of time.

I suppose that's what a scene is, really. A group of people creating shared memories that are so burnt into their brains that, at some point while it's happening, they realize – these are good times.

That phrase is so much better in the present tense. "Those were good times," is nice too, but it's not living in the moment and aware of the moment.

People often ask me why I continue to do Dances With Films. I usually make a joke about it, but I think the real answer might be that I like being part of a team that creates a one-week-long, life-changing, scene for a group of fantastic people. It takes months and months of work. It springs into life, and then too quickly it dies, as all scenes must do.

And then, some 50 weeks later, it is resurrected. Those who have lived it, enjoy it in a different way than their first time. Those who are new, if they are lucky, will realize:

These Are Good Times.

Love It!

Obviously, I'm not one to live blog events.  There are times to do stuff and times to report on it.  This week is the time to do.

But I did want to take a quick moment this morning before running back to the 2-Minute 2-Step set to thank all of the people who have told me how much they appreciate the blog.  Applause, whether from a crowd or one person at a time, is a nice way to get paid.

Thanks for reading.