So I was talking with my agent a few hours ago and after 15 minutes of us both ranting about how superior my content is and how none of what we see on TV measures up, he wants me to draft a synopsis for the project we believe will out-do the hit TV show “Empire.” I mean, how hard is the winning recipie here? You want the expert cenimatography u see in Breaking Bad. You want the unpredictable tension you’re receiving in “Sons of Anarchy” and “House Of Cards.” You want the action, the thrill, the gore and the OMG you’re getting in “Black List” and “Walking Dead” and finally, yaaaaaas bitch yaaaaas u want the diversity you’re seeing in “Empire” and “Scandal.”
How do I already know this? I really don’t need to toot my flute here, since so many people have been saying it for years. They say the same thing about my writing and my stories, from Bermuda to Spain, from London and back to Harlem. So, what is the hold up when I’ve written dozens of hit-novels and when the world at large applauds the work? If there’s no greater signal, some of you remember I was sitting in Starbucks two years ago and one of our biggest film producers happens to live where I live. I mean this small town in Conyers Georgia, and coincidentally the biggest urban film producer lives here. And why did his wife step to me/unprovoked to tell me “my husband does what you do.” And here in Conyers Georgia I wondered to myself “who could your husband possibly be? Do you know who I know?” LOL how I avoided any obvious expressions, and kept my gangsta ego to myself while waiting for her answer. I intend to share that interaction in my forthcoming book, amongst so many other things that have either pushed me forward or held me back in this game we know as author. In this place we call life. I can think back and remember my manager/friend accompanying me to the top floor of HBO where I sat with a wheelchair-bound acquisitions director for the company. This was before Netflix trumped the company in subscriptions, but I was ready with an arm full of my books and an arsenal of current press as a magic carpet. I set on the table of this secluded conference room where we had lunch served to the three of us. A conversation ensued about the books and about the need for screenplays.then came the writers strike and the writing of the screenplay for the film deal with Bill Duke was stalled. Bill and I talked about me writing the screenplay, in his words:
“you already wrote the stories so what’s the problem?”
And he said this with this little affirming chuckle that we all love so much. I couldn’t wait because at this point I am all about sharing resources so I gathered 3 other writers to join in on the project. We finished the screenplay and it sits on my hard drive, however times have changed and Netflix shares the glory winning market-shares and viewership with Hulu-plus. So today’s conversation with my agent goes back to square one about these damned screen plays. he’s already taken me through the doors of reality show producers and television networks. He’s already landed me the huge book deals with the box of contracts to sign and a landslide cash advance. Walking thru Shonda’s doors won’t be hard. I mean, I really need no more evidence in my life to tell me and to prod me and to kick me in the ass so as to say:
“Man if you don’t get the fuck up off your ass and win this title???”
And so here I go with my low-maintenance lifestyle, my seclusion from distractions and my already razor/sharp perspective on life… the synopsis and the characters and the plotting and the series of events that make one of my books your next big addictive show. Pray me up family, this waits no longer. No excuses. Everything I need is here with me. And then there’s your well-wishes. There’s a new rainmaker in town, except I’ve been here all along. Thank you.