Okay, a director. Tim tries Nicky Caro, who he's just finished working with. She reads my first draft, agrees the story has something, but passes because she's working on the screenplay for Vintner's Luck, and is worried about some similarities in the story (like angels). I could point out that my angels came before Elizabeth Knox's, but that might be a tad insecure of me.
We decide to develop the film independently of funding agencies initially. Basically what that means is I get bugger all dosh. Still, the prospect of the film and potential sales of a new print of my novel make it an attractive proposition.
I discover, horror of horrors, that ten years of writing books and the odd play in no way equips me for writing screenplays. While my first draft was decent enough to get a few people excited (including one prophetic producer David Ball who wants to make it straight away), I begin to discover I'm a klutz when it comes to the art of screenwriting. Ah well, better learn something about it I guess...
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