Waiting in Line for the Movies: Redux

This sum­mer we’ll be re-run­ning my most-read blogs from the past year, in case you did­n’t have an oppor­tu­ni­ty to read them the first time around. I’ve rewrit­ten each one of these, so even if you’ve read them before, you may wish to read them again! Here is the third of those articles:

Over the years any num­ber of my books have been optioned for movies. What this means is that some­one pur­chas­es from me the rights to a book I wrote, so that they might cre­ate, orga­nize, and pro­ceed to make a film using that book. Mind, it does not mean they must make an absolute repli­ca­tion of the book, but mere­ly that they will use my text as the basis for a film. Nowhere, in any of the con­tracts I have signed, did I retain con­trol of the film-script, though some­times I have been giv­en the right to review and respond.

I have read such scripts. Some­times they are very close to the book, and some­times not so close. I respond accord­ing­ly. That response may or may not be con­sid­ered. [Did you know by sell­ing a book in this fash­ion you relin­quish rights to the char­ac­ters you have cre­at­ed? That is, the film-mak­er can make anoth­er film with your creations.]

Usu­al­ly, if I have occa­sion to speak to one of these pro­duc­ers (not always the case) I let them know I don’t wish to get involved in the project. It is dis­tract­ing from my real work (writ­ing books) and is there­fore not pro­duc­tive. In any case, screen-writ­ing is a skill set unto itself—not mine.

Do I like the idea of movies being made of my books? Well, sure. It would be inter­est­ing. It’s also more than like­ly to increase the read­er­ship of the par­tic­u­lar book, which is what con­cerns me the most. A movie sells books. I might pay off the mortgage.

In the world at large, noth­ing makes folks who are not very inter­est­ed in books for kids perk up more than when they hear that a movie is pos­si­ble. No one—in my experience—reacts more so than academics.

Peo­ple think great sums of mon­ey are involved. I sup­pose they might be. But these option agree­ments have been—for me—quite mod­est. I recall being at a din­ner par­ty, at which I men­tioned an option agree­ment had been extend­ed for six months. “How much do you get?” I was asked. “Guess?” I returned. “Three-hun­dred thou­sand.” My fac­tu­al response: “Eight hun­dred dollars.”

One can be paid fair­ly (by my bank account) large sums (say, 300K) but only if the film is actu­al­ly made. In my case that has nev­er hap­pened. One pro­duc­er-direc­tor kept an option going for about sev­en years. Two weeks before the start of pro­duc­tion one of the major actors was in a seri­ous acci­dent. Every­thing was canceled.

At the moment I write, three of my books are under option: Noth­ing but the Truth, Crispin: Cross of Lead, and The True Con­fes­sions of Char­lotte Doyle. To the extent that I have had con­tact with the peo­ple involved—infrequent at best, if at all—they are all earnest pro­fes­sion­als, tru­ly seri­ous about mak­ing the films, and active­ly work­ing toward that goal.

Will the films be made? It is tru­ly impos­si­ble for me to say. It’s rather like stand­ing on a very long line to see a movie: one waits impa­tient­ly for for­ward move­ment. It does hap­pen. So, at least, I’ve been told. In my expe­ri­ence the lights always go out.