I've picked Greg Marcks (writer-director of the feature "11:14") for the option on You Don't Love Me Yet. Greg's ideas for the film are really terrific, and I'm excited to see him try to make it.
Thanks again to everyone who got in touch. I'm really gratified by the response.
May 21, 2007
Update: Monday, May 14:
Dear filmmakers,
I've been really amazed by the number of good proposals I've gotten in the past two months, and the decision has been really very gratifyingly difficult. In fact, I haven't quite made a decision, but I am down to four finalists, and I'm hoping to choose between those four by the end of this week.
I've contacted those four to let them know, which is to say, yes -and sorry - that if you haven't heard from me directly in the past few days, you're out of luck. This is my chance, then, to thank you (there have been too many for me to thank you all personally) for what you sent -- the dvds, the script samples, the letters, the casting suggestions -- each so energetic and inspiring separately, but perhaps especially as a whole. Your efforts gave strength to this weird project of mine, and I'm hugely grateful for that. A part of me wishes I could make the novel "promiscuous" and give it away to all of you at the same time. Instead you'll have to make do with my most sincere thanks.
Jonathan
You Don’t Love Me Yet
free option & ancillary-rights give-away
On May 15th I’ll give away a free option on the film rights to my novel You Don’t Love Me Yet to a selected filmmaker. In return for the free option, I’ll ask two things:
I’d like the filmmaker to pay (something) for the purchase of the rights if they actually make a film: two percent of the budget, paid when the completed film gets a distribution deal. (I’ll wait until distribution to get paid so a filmmaker without many funds can work without having to spend their own money paying me).
The filmmaker and I will make an agreement to release all ancillary rights to the film (and its source material, the novel), five years after the film’s debut. In other words, after a waiting period during which those rights would still be restricted, anyone who cared to could make any number of other kinds of artwork based on the novel’s story and characters, or the film’s: a play, a television series, a comic book, a theme park ride, an opera – or even a sequel film or novel featuring the same characters. For that matter, they can remake the film with another script and new actors. In my agreement with the filmmaker, those ancillary rights will be launched into the public domain.
If you’re a filmmaker who feels that You Don’t Love Me Yet might make a good film and also likes the unusual terms of this proposal, I’d like to hear from you, at the address below. Tell me what kind of work you’ve done before, and how you’d expect to handle this project both creatively and financially.
Questions:
Why?
Lately I’ve become fitful about some of the typical ways art is commodified. Despite making my living (mostly) by licensing my own copyrights, I found myself questioning some of the particular ways such rights are transacted, and even some of the premises underlying what’s called intellectual property. I read a lot of Lawrence Lessig and Siva Vaidhyanathan, who convinced me that technological progress – and globalization – made this a particularly contemporary issue. I also read Lewis Hyde’s The Gift, which persuaded me, paradoxically, that these issues are eternal ones, deeply embedded in the impulse to make any kind of art in the first place. I came away with the sense that artists ought to engage these questions directly, rather than leaving it entirely for corporations (on one side) and public advocates (on the other) to hash out. I also realized that sometimes giving things away – things that are usually seen to have an important and intrinsic ‘value’, like a film option – already felt like a meaningful part of what I do. I wanted to do more of it.
I ended up writing a long essay for Harper’s exploring these issues, and a few months ago I launched The Promiscuous Materials Project – a small first attempt to play with different ways of handling rights to some of my work. That project – and this one – are only experiments, not systematic alternatives to the ordinary ways of doing things. I’m not necessarily recommending them to others, nor am I handling all my rights this way. In a way I see both projects as extensions of the essay: further provocations to thinking about such things a little differently.
Which rights are you giving away five years after the film’s release, and which are you keeping?
I’ll still hold the copyright on the text of the novel, and I’ll be the sole proprietor of those rights (which I’ll naturally continue to license to my publishers, as long as they’re interested in keeping the book in print). Similarly, the filmmaker will own the copyright on his or her film itself – the rights to distribute prints, or license DVD rights, of their own work.
What we won’t do is hold onto the characters – their names and characteristics – or the plot and situations, the notions and conceits and milieu of the book, all those other recognizable characteristics which would ordinarily continue to be legally controlled by the filmmaker or his/her investors (whether or not there was ever any likelihood of them being put into use). After a reasonable interval of exclusive use – a phase where the only way to access this story is as an audience member of the book or film – anyone else can use it to make new artworks, without any fear of being accused of violating anyone else’s copyright. Because I want those subsequent uses to be utterly free, there isn’t even a requirement that subsequent work acknowledge the film or the novel as a source (though many people would probably feel that etiquette requires a credit).
How can you be sure everybody will be legally protected?
Like any agreement I’d enter into, this one will be put together by my capable and meticulous agent, working with an imaginative copyright lawyer, both of whom have already been part of helping me design this plan (including, for instance, some ways out if a film isn’t made after a while, or if it’s made but isn’t released). In working with a filmmaker to finalize an agreement they’ll cover all the important details I’ve only alluded to here.
It sounds like you’re planning on a very low-budget (or ‘no-budget’, or ‘credit-card’) movie, perhaps one shot on digital video instead of film. Is that the case? Why?
I do want to make an extremely low-budget film possible, sure. You Don’t Love Me Yet could easily be filmed with an ensemble of unknowns. The setting is contemporary Los Angeles, and there aren’t any scenes calling for expensive effects or steadicam shots taken from helicopters. But I’m equally open to moderately-budgeted or even expensive projects. You’ll notice that if the budget of the movie grows, I’ll make more money. I don’t have anything against money, per se – only against some of the things that money seems to usually also require in the way of compromises, and unnecessary clauses in contracts. I suspect that the ancillary-rights-giveaway will scare away some of the most traditional sources of filmmaker financing, but I’d be happy to be proven wrong about that.
I don’t want to determine in advance what kind of filmmaker gets involved, or what kind of film they try to make. I only hope this free option will spur the imaginations of a wide number of people. I’ll have a much better idea of what’s possible or desirable after I’ve heard some specific proposals.
Why are you assuming anyone cares to make your novel into a film to begin with, let alone anything further?
Good question. None of my earlier novels have been filmed (so far), but many have been optioned. You Don’t Love Me Yet seems to me to stand a fair chance of attracting interest from filmmakers too. If that doesn’t turn out to be true, no harm done. And if nobody is interested in any of the ancillary rights five years after a film, that’s okay too. I’m interested in the process of putting them out there, per se.
Would you change your mind? What if a film studio made an offer for the rights?
For better or worse this is what I want to do with You Don’t Love Me Yet. I won’t option or sell the rights on other terms unless this experiment fails so utterly that it doesn’t seem to matter anymore (and even then I’d probably wait a year or two). I do reserve the right to extend the May 15 deadline a bit if there simply hasn’t been any interesting or persuasive offer from a filmmaker and I have reason to believe that better ones are just around the corner, or if something else goes wrong with this plan that I haven’t anticipated. But I’m very much hoping and intending to give the option away by May 15th.
What if someone makes a film and you hate it?
Every writer takes that chance anytime they option a book, whether for large sums or small. Over the years I’ve learned to make my peace with that risk.
Are you hoping to hear from a famous director? Or unknowns?
Sure, there are some well-known filmmakers I’d be thrilled to consider – but I’d still want to be persuaded that this was the right person for this peculiar enterprise. As much a privilege as it might be to work with someone I admire, the chance of this project becoming someone’s debut is enticing too. (For that matter I’m not ruling out people I already know personally – I can't guess in advance who might send an irresistible letter.)
Will you talk in public about the filmmakers who made proposals, or publish their letters on a website?
No. I’ll regard all communication as confidential, and never announce any names except that of the filmmaker I’ve picked. I’d hate for anyone to feel prevented from inquiring for fear of some sort of negative publicity.
Was anyone given a head start? Do you secretly have a partner lined up in advance?
Nope. I’m giving everyone a fair chance, beginning when the book is published, and I won’t make any final decision until the deadline.
