April | 2013 | Betsy Lerner

And Four White Mice Will Never Be Four White Horses

Posted on April 27, 2013 by betsylerner

I got a nibble on my screenplay. It’s just a nibble. One of the producers has written back. Has to show it to producing partner. He said he liked it. Said it had promise. Promise! And that was all. I’m not going to go crazy, not going to start dieting for the Oscars or put a down payment on my Porsche. A big producer took me through a summer of rewrites on my first script and then showed it to the one actor he had in mind for the lead, Kevin Kleine, who declined. Game over. Cinderella story gone in an email. I promised not to get bitter. Better to have loved and been swiftly dropped than never to have been swiftly dropped at all. I’m sober. I’m not casting the movie. There isn’t a director’s chair with my name on it, a baseball cap with the name of the movie on it, a baseball jacket with the name of the movie on the back and my name in gold thread stiched into the front. None of it. Fuck me dead.

What is your fantasy?

Filed under: Film, Rejection, Screenwriting, Uncategorized | Tagged: nibble, Oscar, screenwriting, script | 53 Comments »

You May Say I’m a Dreamer

Posted on April 17, 2013 by betsylerner

Guys, it’s been four months since I stopped taking my meds. No, just kidding. It’s been four months since I stopped doing the nasty on a daily basis and by that I mean posting here. To catch up, I finished my screenplay in February and have sent it to five producers. It’s a good thing I’m not waiting for the phone to ring. It’s a good thing I’m not jumping to the conclusion that the script is a piece of shit because not a SINGLE one has called. It’s a good thing that I can hate myself in a deep and meaningful way without the help of anyone not reading my fucking script. I know I have to send it out to like four thousand people before giving up. I’m also aware that it’s more fun to stick your hand in a blender that try to get somewhere with Hollywood. I wish I could make the fucking thing myself with sock puppets. God, that’s not a bad idea. Girl, take a note.

Anyway, do not offer any kind words of encouragement. That would just be gross at this point. Just tell me what you’re working on, and how hard you’re working. I miss you.

Love, Betsy

Filed under: Uncategorized | 90 Comments »

Hey There, You With the Stars In Your Eyes

Posted on April 9, 2013 by betsylerner

Hey Guys, remember when I said stay in touch with good news (though of course bad news and general carping always welcome at the Betsy Lerner Institute of Psychotherapy)? Well, our own Jessica Lahey has landed a major book deal (see below) based on a popular article in the Atlantic. Hot shit. Congrats Jessica, and thanks for not approaching me to agent you. What the hell does a girl have to do around here?

Pubs Have Feeding Frenzy Over Lahey’s ‘Gift’

After a three-day auction featuring 10 bidders, Jessica Lahey’s The Gift of Failure was acquired by Gail Winston at Harper. Winston bought world English rights to the book, based on an article Lahey wrote for the Atlantic, from agent Laurie Abkemeier at DeFiore and Company. Lahey is a middle school teacher and her story, “Why Parents Need to Let Their Kids Fail,” drew impassioned reactions online, after it ran in late January. The book, Abkemeier said, will be “a manifesto and action plan about why parents must learn to refrain from stepping in any time children experience disappointments… so that they may grow up to be successful, resilient, and self-reliant adults.”

Filed under: Authors, Fame! Celebrity! Riches!, You Go Girl | Tagged: publishing deal | 39 Comments »

I Belong With You, You Belong With Me

Posted on April 1, 2013 by betsylerner

Today, I was accused of not being a free spirit. Guilty as charged. Not only am I not a free spirit, I might even experience a fair amount of animosity when in the presence of free spirits. The first time I knew that I wasn’t a free spirit was when I was about to graduate college. My roommate was pursuing his dream of being a modern dancer. The boy I had a crush on was moving to London to be a playwright. A woman I envied was going to Provincetown to write a screenplay. Me? I had accepted a job as the corporate file coordinator at a major investment bank because, well, the idea of trying to be a poet for real was not happening, not then, not now, not ever. And please don’t tell me about William Carlos Williams being a doctor and Wallace Stevens an insurance executive. And please don’t mistake promiscuity for being free ha ha ha ha. I am the emperor of my own damn wheelbarrow. I am a little old ugly man, cousin to Rumpelstilskin, friend to none. I am obsessive, compulsive, anal, retentive. Free spirits implode when they cross my path. Please don’t ask me to walk barefoot or wear flowers in my hair. Free spirit? I can barely manage spontaneity.