To recap, after pitching to Wolperg on August 5th, 2024, to a delightful young lady named Taylor Colony, Wolperg requested Personal Demons through FadeIn on Friday (Aug. 9th) at 3:35pm.
On Aug. 26th, 2024 I sent a message (via an online form on their website) asking if Ms. Taylor Colony had had a chance to read it yet.
Ms. Colony responded immediately, saying: “They just sent me the materials today, so it will be at least a few weeks before I'm able to review everything.”
I then followed up again on October 15th, 2024.
She responded: "Thanks for reaching out. Yes, I had a chance to take a look. Unfortunately, it's not quite what we're looking to do right now and our bandwidth is really limited."
First, I had no idea what the phrase "our bandwidth is really limited."
I had to look, and find it here, to figure out that this phrase means (and I'm paraphrasing here), "We are too busy with our current workload and are unable to take on new clients/projects."
Now, this is a line I've been fed more time than I can count ("we are not taking on new clients at this time... blah-blah-blah"). It's the standard, nonspecific "No thank you" line from agents. But it seems to me terrible unprofessional to phrase it like this: to use modern slang in a professional response.
Incidentally I've also been fed the "it's not right for us" or "it's not what we're looking to do right now" or "it's not right for our company".
All of these I find extremely hilarious.
You heard my pitch, correct?
You got a feel of the genre, tone and approach to the story, right?
Did you not like my actual writing?
I mean, at least the response I got from Culture Creative (after the 2022 Pitchfest) was detailed (even if all their criticism was flimsy enough for me to create immediate counter-arguments to).
Now, the polite gentleman in me wants to write her back a simple thank you note ("thank you for your time and consideration, etc.").
But the realistic cynic in me realizes that (until I emailed her) she had probably completely forgotten that she had even attended PitchFest and she'd forgotten about me, my script and the fact that she had my script in her possession. As for her having "a chance to take a look"... I'm sure she didn't even read it. I'm sure she skimmed through it and perhaps read a scene or two, but didn't really give it any of her focus or serious consideration. She had her mind up before she even opened the PDF.
Again, it's the whole "If you really had talent, you would already be famous [you would have made yourself famous] and you wouldn't need to attend a PitchFest."
But then that begs the question: if I could get famous on my own (presumably through social media, self-promotion and by generally making a spectacle of myself) why would I need the services of gatekeeping agents?
Well, the short answer is I need them to connect me to opportunities.
They just want me to be famous enough that they approach me and not the other way around.
But no matter what it's a nonsensical game played in tight knit boys' clubs (even if some of the "boys" are ladies).
I just find it amusing that Personal Demons is winning screenplay competitions and film fests all over the world (as well as in L.A.) and yet the agents in L.A. (even the smallest of unknown agencies... like the ones I write about here) find no value in taking me on as a client.
It's befuddling to say the least, but c'est la vie.
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