by Weston Ochse
I know I was looking for more money and more readers, but, as a giddy fan boy of Necroscope, to rub literary elbows with Brian Lumley was a dream I couldn’t pass up. I reached into my footlocker and, for the first time, unveiled Once Upon the End. Brian and Judi accepted the novella without hesitation, but asked if I could provide an extra something.
“An extra what?” I asked.
“Anything extra. Gord Rollo is providing a movie for instance.”
A movie? Jeese. Talk about an overachiever. I reminded myself that the amount of money I was being paid for this story would barely cover a night out at a fine dining establishment. Fifteen thousand words is a significant undertaking. I was, for all intents and purposes, giving this away for free. Now to ask for something more? Something extra? Were they smoking crack?
“What do you have in mind?” I asked.
“I don’t know, a poem maybe?”
A poem, I thought. Hmm. I’d written poetry before. A limerick came immediately to mind. There once was a gal from Carolina, who had a monster attached to her vag—
“I don’t think a poem will work,” I replied.
“You can do anything, Weston, a movie, a picture slideshow, anything. Your imagination is the limit.”
For some reason I still kept thinking about the movie. That Gord was doing a movie seemed really cool. (It is, by the way. If you haven’t seen it, you should ask him for a copy. It’s really a tremendous piece of work for something that was meant as an extra for a limited edition CD ROM anthology.) But I didn’t have the technology for a movie, much less any of the skills necessary to produce, cast, film, or anything having to do with movies, other than watching them.
But I could do something like a movie, I told myself.
I could do a screenplay.
And then it all fell into place. I’d always wanted to write a screenplay, but like most of us I’d put it off and put it off, allowing other projects to supplant the desire. But here and now was an opportunity that I could hardly ignore. Judi and Brian wanted an extra for my story. I wanted to write a screenplay. Why couldn’t the two needs meet?
“How about a screenplay?” I finally asked.
And that was all it took. Three months later, I had a screenplay completed and a year later in 2002, Tooth and Claw was published. Not only was my story illustrated by the magnificent Alan Koszowski, but I was in an anthology with Brian Lumley, F. Paul Wilson and Hugh B. Cave. Of all the Cthulhu crab gods of a Repairman Jack universe, I could not have asked for more.
IF YOU BUILD IT THEY WILL COME
The anthology was a hit. People loved the story. I signed some of my first non-Scary Redneck autographs, albeit on a compact disc. The novella was recommended for several awards. I got my first fan letters from Germany and Colombia. Reviews couldn’t have been better.
From Green Man Review: “Once Upon the End” by Weston Ochse closes the anthology, and it is a doozy. Ochse has included all the ingredients for a bang-up story: suspenseful plot, interesting characters, buckets of conflict, and the struggle to retain hope against a seemingly undefeatable and innumerable foe. - Craig Clarke
But like the ocean, the publishing universe has an ebb and flow. I understood this, so by the time the novella had been carried to a far distant shore, I’d already moved on, luxuriating in the occasional email or message board comment about a monster tale dear to my heart.
That was it, or so I thought until that agent at the party whispered in my ear that I should get this made into a movie. All convention long, I thought about it, wondering if I had what it took. I could write poetry, short stories, novellas and novels. I could write non-fiction essays, criticism and letters to my mom. I looked around and novelists I knew were writing screenplays— Jay Bonansinga, Brian Hodge, and Jack Passarella to name a few. I mean, I’d written a screenplay, but was it right? Was it the kind of screenplay Hollywood was looking for? There were some who thought so.
Also from Green Man Review: “Once Upon the End” is by far the premier tale in Tooth and Claw, Volume One. I liked it enough to read it twice, as it is available in prose and in a 102-page screenplay. Some changes were made for the screenplay, of course, in addition to expansion. Dylan Thomas’s “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night” is featured, one of the group’s state of infection found out much sooner, and flashbacks and the addition of a new character to round it out, along with particular attention to a more visual style of storytelling. - Craig Clarke
IT’S WHO YOU KNOW
They say it’s who you know, not what you know. Living in Los Angeles I should have known a mess of people, but with a day job as a government agent, the kinds of people I knew weren’t the kinds who could help me in this particular endeavor. A buddy of mine was keyed in fairly well to the L.A. scene and knew some of the folks in the industry. Feo Amante, a.k.a. Eddie McMullen, is someone many of you may know or have heard things about. He runs Feo Amante dot com which is a clearing house for horror news, reviews, information, art and spooky news. He's known for his black hat, gregarious laugh and his willingness to leap atop horse statues in the middle of World Horror Conventions. Our friendship goes back a ways, so we talked about how best to get our screenplays in the right hands.
Twice Eddie had let me tag along on some events.
One was the press-only screening of Frailty—the Lion’s Gate movie starring Bill Paxton and Matthew McConaughey. After almost getting lost on Olympic a dozen times we finally found the small secluded theater and were made privy to the movie months before it hit theaters. We met some media types, production assistants and up-and-coming directors, but did I take the opportunity to pitch Once Upon the End?
Nope.
The other event Eddie let me tag along to was a luncheon right out of Let’s Get Shorty. Remember that scene where John Travolta and Renee Russo invite Danny Devito to a restaurant to pitch their movie idea and he orders egg white omelets and strawberry frappés for everyone?
I swear to god this restaurant was just like that. Eddie and I arrived at Kings Road Restaurant on Beverly Glen and immediately felt the vibe of egg whites and frappés. Next arrived Cris Gage, comic book writer, and writer of the movies The Breed and Teenage Caveman. Guy-next-door-regular-Joe, Cris was someone who might be your neighbor rather than a Hollywood guy. I couldn’t have picked him out of a line-up. Then came David Allen Brooks who looked the part of the professional actor and to me, was the quintessential Hollywood guy. Five hundred dollar loafers with no socks. Baggy Paris jeans. Untucked Kenneth Cole shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest. Ruggedly handsome with million dollar hair. He co-starred in such movies as Manhunter, The Doors, Cast Away and the television show Babylon 5-Crusade. I liked both Cris and Dave. We had a great conversation, if nothing else, enjoying how Eddie interacted with the universe. I ordered a goat cheese omelet. I forget what Cris and Eddie ordered, but Dave, bless his heart, ordered an egg white omelet and strawberries, minus the frappé. The meeting lasted an hour and I had the perfect opportunity to pitch Once Upon the End.
Did I do it this time?
Nope.
Why the hell not? you ask. Are you a freaking idiot?
I realized later on that evening that I didn’t know the first thing about pitching a movie. I’d written a novella, transformed it into a screenplay, and was evidently sitting around waiting for a director to knock down my door and beg me for my screenplay. Okay, yeah, in retrospect I was an idiot.
But the goat cheese was good.
I wonder if it would have been even better with a frappé?
HORRORFIND
My timeline might be a little off as I sit here recollecting, but I think it wasn’t but a few months later that I attended the very first Horrorfind—that mega-convention in Maryland which caters to Hollywood horror movie stars and authors, boasting a 5,000 person attendance. I was an official guest based on my infamy with Scary Rednecks. Many of those in attendance had booked rooms specifically to see David Whitman, my co-author of Scary Redne
cks and Other Inbred Horrors and Appalachian Galapagos, and me. I remember three women who traveled up from Tennessee just to get my autograph and buy me a drink. They did this for three consecutive years, adding a World Horror in Chicago, which they traveled to for the expressed purpose of seeing their favorite literary redneck.
That first year of Horrorfind, no one really knew how big the convention would be. Mike Rodan and Brian Keene invited as many guests as they could think of, using the Field of Dreams principle. And thanks to this very liberal invitation policy, I met some actors I’d never even imagined I’d get the chance to meet; Actors such as Ken Foree (Dawn of the Dead), Tom Savini (Dawn of the Dead and From Dusk Til Dawn), Michael Berryman (Weird Science and The Hills Have Eyes), Reggie Bannister (The Phantasm Franchise), Doug Bradley (Hellraiser) and Bruce Campbell (Evil Dead and The Adventures of Briscoe County Jr.). Not only did I meet them, but I spent some quality time with several, and still maintain friendships to this day.
I still remember fondly drinking a beer with Michael Berryman. To put this in perspective, it would help to know what he looks like. So if you have a moment, Google Mike, or check IMDB--he played Zeus on the original The Hills Have Eyes and is known for his creepy good looks. Anyway, there I was drinking some Mexican beer with a lime, sitting at a table in a mostly empty bar, early that first day of the convention, sitting across from Michael. What’d we talk about? Did I pitch Once Upon the End? Did I ask him what Kelly LeBrock looks like naked? Did we talk about the new renaissance of horror movies? Did we talk about midnight blood-letting rituals? Hell no. We talked about what white wines taste better with salmon. As David Whitman is fond of saying, ‘Fucking Surreal.’
Friday night found David and I having another surreal time. We had dinner in the hotel restaurant with Reggie Bannister and wife, Gigi, Ken Foree, and Wrath White. Did I pitch Once Upon the End? Hell no! I was too impressed with my company and had a hell of a time. As I sit here typing this, I can’t remember a thing we talked about, but I do remember the dinner lasting three hours. We talked and laughed about everything under the sun. I enjoyed every minute of it.
I’ve had a few drinks with Doug Bradley over the years, am a nodding acquaintance of Tom Savini’s, and have lost contact with Michael Berryman. But my relationship with Ken Foree and Reggie Banister continued. Had I pitched them that first time I met them, I don’t think this would be the case. By acting the way I did, I came across as a peer and fellow professional. I liked them for who they were, what they’d been in movies, and enjoyed talking with them like we were all real people. And because of this, when they were pitched years later, each of them leaped at the opportunity.
MEANWHILE AT THE BATCAVE
I continued writing during this period. Finishing the novels Scarecrow Gods (which won the Bram Stoker for First Novel in 2005) as well as the novels Babylon Smiles and Recalled to Life. I tried to let the process work, trusting that submitting the screenplay to all the right places was the proper thing to do.
Appalachian Galapagos, the sequel to Scary Rednecks and Other Inbred Horrors finally found a publisher. After spending a year with Imaginary Books, it was picked up by Medium Rare Books. Mention of either publisher engenders eye rolls and patient sighs because of their sketchy histories, but say what you will about Medium Rare, they did good by me.
Appalachian Galapagos was their first hardback and sold thousands of copies. In fact, because of a private investor, Medium Rare bought a space at the prestigious Book Expo of America when it was in Los Angeles in 2003, right beside Knopf and Penguin. The cost for such prominence was easily the equal to the price of a new car, but for Medium Rare it was an investment that they hoped would translate to distribution and book sales. You can’t fault them for trying.
So with a special badge and hope in my heart, I entered the Los Angeles Convention Center and made my way to the Medium Rare space. I met literally hundreds of people—many fellow authors, publishers, editors, and agents galore. With Appalachian Galapagos so prominently displayed, and me in my best go-to-meeting clothes, I was as popular as a bail bondsman in a prison. Things were going great. People were lined up to talk to me. Medium Rare’s inventory of my book was rapidly shrinking as folks whisked away copies, their discriminating tastes able to detect the literary value of my (and David Whitman's) redneck masterwork. Everything was going great. In fact, things couldn’t have been better. Little did I know that I was about to make one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
OPEN MOUTH, INSERT CAREER.
When I mentioned lined up, I wasn't exaggerating. If you've been to a BEA event, you know what I'm talking about. I met fans, other writers, publishers, TV producers from the History Channel and Discovery Channel, comic book artists, book buyers for chain bookstores, and at least a couple of dozen agents.
One of these agents, let's call him Darren, took an inordinate interest in me. He knew some of by backlist, including stories that had only been published on the web. I mean, come on, how many agents are going to take that sort of time, unless they're interested in you?
He looked the part, too. About five foot seven, hundred dollar haircut, thousand dollar sharkskin suit, three hundred dollar Bruno Maglis on his feet and a mouthful of veneers—he represented Hollywood in all of its flash-dash-tomfoolery. He flipped me a business card.
DARREN.
AGENT.
HOLLYWOOD.
BLAH BLAH BLAH.
But I was impressed nonetheless.
Darren began asking me about how Appalachian Galapagos was doing. He wanted to know about Scary Rednecks. Was I working on any novels? What about screenplays? Did I have any of those?
Oh, did I!
Talk about a prime opportunity to pitch Once Upon the End. I'd missed out with all of the others, but for Darren I remembered, so, with more than a little pride in my voice, I told Darren the Agent that I did have a screenplay, then I told him the title, then pitched him the logline.
Big grin.
He was very interested.
He wanted to know more, so I told him the synopsis, which by this point, I had memorized pretty well. He wanted to know about budgeting and such, and I gave him some comparisons, emphasizing that the first half of the movie is the equivalent to a locked room mystery, so the set would be cheap.
He was even more impressed. So he asked THE QUESTION. Is anybody looking at it?
Let me back up a few weeks before the event.
My agent, who lived on the East Coast, had been trying to get the script into people's hands who we thought might be interested. In fact, we'd made a list of African-American movie stars who we thought would be right for the part of the lead. The list included Ken Foree, Samuel Jackson, Wesley Snipes, Michael Clark Duncan, Danny Glover, Ernie Hudson, and Reginald VelJohnson. My agent put together packages for each one and mailed them out. Low and behold, we got responses. We got a few polite no thank yous, one I don't do horror and several we are definitely interested.
So when I was asked if anybody was looking at Once Upon the End, I responded truthfully. You see, Wesley Snipes' production company, Amen Ra Films, was busy reading Once Upon the End. I mentioned this to Darren the Agent trying not to seem too proud with myself. He nodded noncommittally and asked who in the company was reading it.
That morning I'd received an email from my agent telling me that the screenplay had made it past the company screeners to Wesley's personal assistant. If this fellow liked it, so rumor had it, then he'd pass it on to Wesley with his recommendation. Assuming he'd only pass on things he approved of, the recommendation would have to be good. The email mentioned this fellow by name and went so far as to say that he was liking what he'd read so far.
Can you imagine how utterly giddy I felt knowing that I had a better than even chance of selling my script to Wesley Snipes?
Proudly I told Darren the Agent of Wesley's assistant, my knowledge of the name alone lending weight to my assertion. Darren's eyes widened considerably when I name dropped. Color h
im impressed. But that was all the time he had. The crowd was pushing, people wanted into the Medium Rare booth, so he scooted away with the promise that he'd be in touch.
The day got better. I was asked to ghost write for a company doing work with the History Channel. Although this never panned out just being asked meant a lot to me. That evening I went to Dark Delicacies Bookstore in Burbank for a mega-signing which included Brian Lumley, F. Paul Wilson, Whitley Strieber, David Morrell, William F. Nolan, myself, John Skipp, and a few others. I was honored to be signing with such greats. I must have signed a hundred books, but barely noticed. I was too busy sneaking glances at these icons of my own youth, frankly amazed that I was in the same room with them. Later when we went to the local bar to tip a few beers in toast to the evening, it got even better. But that's another tale, best meant for some late night at the end of the world where no one will get in trouble.
The next morning shown bright.
The sun had a special character to it, as if it promised something spectacular for the day. About mid-morning I got a call.
"Hello?"
"What the hell did you do?!"
An interesting greeting from my agent, but not altogether strange, after all, she was from Jersey.
"Me? I didn't do anything."
"Well you must have done something, because I just got a call from Amen Ra and they were pissed!"
I think I dropped the phone.
I felt sick in the stomach.
It turned out that Darren the Agent had called Amen Ra the film company who was then put in the position to confirm or deny my claim. Mr. Snipes' assistant became angry enough that he said to my agent something along the lines of "and if we're seriously looking at one of your client's manuscripts, we'll let you know. As for the one in question, we're no longer considering it."