So he* saw my short play I Have It in LA and wants to film it.
However, he cannot, because I’ve already signed an option with a pair of young filmmakers, giving them exclusive rights.
As much as I’d like to be excited about this, it’s turned into a smallish nightmare that compells me to point all inquiries to my agent. This is the proveberial ‘talk to the hand, because the face does not understand’ of the industry.* I’m much too much of a pussy to handle these things on my own. But the minute I start to dial 212 to reach him/her/it, I remember that my agent, at this point, lives in my inbox, in my laptop, and next to it, in my printer. Essentially, je do it myself. Gah, I’ve got to grow some balls. Proverbially.
* Bekah Brunstetter does not really know Ashton Kutcher, nor has she ever met him. This information has all been passed down through an actor (a marvelous one, at that) who knows him.
* Bekah Brunstetter does not really know anything about the industry.