“Twas the Night Before Black List…”
Funny how things become traditions here at Go Into The Story. Several years ago, screenwriter Chris McCoy uploaded this series of tweets…
Funny how things become traditions here at Go Into The Story. Several years ago, screenwriter Chris McCoy uploaded this series of tweets the day before the roll-out of the 2013 Black List:
“‘Twas the Night Before Black List and all through the LA / Writers were nervous — could this help them get pay?”
“Their loglines were sharp and polished with care / In the hopes that St. Franklin soon would be there.”
“The writers were ambien’d all snug in their beds / While visions of having a sustainable future danced in their heads.”
“The agent in Prada and the hopeful in Gap / Had just settled their brains (with pot) for a long winter’s nap.”
I asked Chris if we could run with his verse as a blog contest to which he kindly agreed and that led to this. It was so much fun, I’ve reprised the ’Twas the Night Before Black List Challenge every year since. This year, there were four winning parody poems:
And this one from Brian Vidal:
Twas the Night Before Black List and all through the LA
Writers were nervous — could this help them get pay?
Their loglines were sharp and polished with care,
In the hopes that St. Franklin soon would be there.
The writers were ambien’d all snug in their beds,
While visions of having a sustainable future danced in their heads.
The agent in Prada and the hopeful in Gap,
Had just settled their brains (with pot) for a long winter’s nap.
When the clock struck nine, my alarm rang out loud,
I sprang wide awake and pulled my head from the cloud.
Away to my desk, I flew like the Flash,
Tripped over my chair, my dog, and my trash.
Opened my laptop to see if I’d made it,
But my internet was broken (well, I hadn’t paid it).
I pulled on my trousers, my shoes, and my top,
And ran out the door to find a coffee shop.
Hopped in my car and shoved in my key,
But nothing happened, the gas was empty.
I cursed and I yelled as I took to the street,
Moving and shaking, “Hurry up feet!”
“Now, CAA! Now, WME! Now, UTA and ICMP!
If I’m on the List, I know you’ll want me!
On, Paradigm! On, Gersh! On, Abrams and Verve!
Soon, you’ll give me the attention I deserve!”
As I ran like the wind (or a light breeze),
I huffed and I puffed and boy, did I wheeze.
But nothing could stop me. I was on my way,
I needed to know what the Black List would say.
And then, I arrived at the cozy cafe,
With a line out the door, “Get out of my way!”
They looked and they stared, but moved not an inch,
Their hearts were too small, much like the Grinch.
So onward I went with my head hung low,
Was my name on the Black List? I really must know.
I thought I would try somewhere less scary,
And then I remembered the city library.
Was the library still there? Or merely a dream?
I hadn’t been there since I was sixteen.
It was a place of books and perhaps some wi-fi?
I decided it would be worth giving a try.
As I approached the old building, I saw light inside.
“Someone is here!” I joyously cried.
Up the steps I went and through the front door.
At last I would know! I would wait no more!
With a quick look around, I spotted a chair,
It was quite easy, there was nobody there.
I opened my laptop, and lo and behold,
The internet worked! Glory untold!
I skimmed down the list, and what do I see?
My very own name staring back at me!
All of my dreams are coming true!
I couldn’t believe it, but that’s when I knew …
The dream started fading before my own eyes,
The library disappeared as I realized,
I was asleep in my bed. What a twist!
But I still had a chance to be on the Black List!
The winners each received one free script evaluation and a free month of their script hosted on the Black List website, plus one of my Craft classes. For free!
In the spirit of Brian’s verse, my sincerest hope for each of you is that in 2018, you write a screenplay, teleplay, novel, short story, or poem that brings you the best of fortune and success… like making the Black List.
Happy Holidays!