:mybrainworksfunny.com

I don’t know if it’s the lack of a real salutation, the random commas, the incorrect forms of its and you’re, the idea that he’s a former 30-year-old, the fact that it has both a futuristic and an old-fashioned feel, the fact that the first paragraph has nothing to do with the rest of it, or the use of the term “1950ish,” but this is the finest query letter I’ve ever received:

Dear,

I am a former 30 year old walk - on football player from Auburn Alabama that had an opportunity to body double for Arnold Schwarzenegger, in Van Nuys California years ago.

I am contacting you about our latest screenplay, NEURAL MAN. It is a science fiction thriller about a Nano, robotic man that is hunted down by the 1950ish United States and Australian Governmental Forces, for it’s futuristic nano-technology capabilities. With help from the savvy nano- technologists, Neural Man is discovered to be the head of The Governmental Ranks. The problem is, that, Neural Man, knows when you’re coming after him, and he’s always a step ahead. Even if your standing at the door with a gun.

Please let me know if you’d like to read the script, by emailing or calling the number above. Neural Man has a nice futuristic and old fashioned feel.

Thank you.

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Leave it to GMail to give a good April Fool’s Day prank. Last year was GMail Paper. This year? Custom Time.

GMail Paper was clever, but by the time you got done reading the introductory page, you knew it was fake. With Custom Time, it takes a little longer to realize it’s a joke, but once you do… you begin to think maybe this isn’t such a bad idea after all.

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When I began building a literary department at the talent agency at which I work, one of my challenges was that I inherited a project about which I was not crazy. It was an interactive reality series, but not a particularly strong one. One of our actors had developed it, and my boss had told him we’d pitch it for him.

The problem was, I didn’t like the idea. In fact, I hated it. When I met with its creator, I voiced several objections - all of which were shot down, both by him and by my boss. What was the point of me repping a project I didn’t like, especially when the creator didn’t even want to get into the room himself? He wanted me to go in instead.

While building the department, that project kept coming back to haunt me. My boss would ask if I’d been working on it. “As much as I can,” I told her. “We’re not ready, and it’s definitely not ready.” Then, when we became somewhat functional, she began pushing me harder to get it wide. Finally, I began hopping it around to various networks. Sure enough, a large basic cable network gave us a nibble.

Then I had to pitch a project I didn’t care about at all. My first pitch as a literary agent, and I didn’t even like the project. I chatted back and forth with the Director of Development, and finally he began asking the questions I had dreaded. The parts of the show with which I had initially disagreed, but had been shot down. And sure enough, he wanted to take the show in the direction I’d wanted to take it in.

We chatted a little longer, and ended the pitch. Then I got an email from him, saying “This probably isn’t big enough for us in its current form, but you can come in and pitch it if you’d like.”

So on Monday, I’m meeting with the series creator to try to pitch him on his own show - expanded, as it will be, to fit both my and the network’s vision. Because it’s the right one. The one that will give this show a chance to air… or at least to get a pilot ordered. But we’re in the door. My first pitch, I’m pitching a project I don’t even like, and I got into the room.

Not bad.

Plus, of the first five production companies I contacted regarding HarleyWriter’s script, I’ve gotten three reads. Not a bad day’s work.

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