SCHMOOZE

verb /SHmo͞oz/
schmoozed, past participle; schmoozed, past tense; schmoozes, 3rd person singular present; schmoozing, present participle

  1. Talk intimately and cozily; gossip
  2. Talk in such a way to (someone), typically in order to manipulate, flatter, or impress them

A MEETING IN THE MAP ROOM

Meeting a friend at the Map Room, Chicago. Waiting for her, I see a producer I know, an acquaintance. This is someone I’ve come close to working with but never quite did. We shake hands, first name basis and friendly. His name is attached to several well-known movies (Mad Dog And Glory, Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer.) Being one of the few actively working producers in town, he is a good man to know.  We chat about the status of a project on which we almost worked together. On the back burner, it seems. “Difficulty in raising the finances.” No shit. The recession is killing independent financing.

Turns out my producer friend is here for his own meeting. And over to the table saunters Steve Conrad.

Steve is a Chicago guy, lives in town, went to school at Northwestern. He also happens to be, aside from David Mamet, one of the few screenwriters living in Chicago who actually makes a living at it. His resume speaks for itself (The Pursuit of Happyness, The Weather Man, Wrestling Ernest Hemingway, the Promotion). On the screenwriting Food Chain, Steve is as far above me as I am above the chum-eating California Golden Seal.

We shake hands, friendly guy. Steve hasn’t heard of me, but interestingly, we’ve both taken passes at a draft of the same project . This is an adaptation of a tough Nelson Algren novel (more on this script next week) set in Chicago amidst Polish youth gangs in the 40s. Not a popcorn movie but with an undeniable pedigree of a man who won the National Book Award. We laugh because no one seems to be willing to take a risk on this harsh material.

Now, between the producer and Conrad, this has turned into a nice networking opportunity, laid out right on my plate. My friend still hadn’t arrived. I could, in good conscience, order a beer and hang. We’re all Chicago guys, after all.

I didn’t.

I got up, shook hands with Conrad and the producer, and split.

Why? Why not stick around, press my projects, try to make something happen?

Because lunch at the Map Room, for them, wasn’t about me.

Folks, you need to develop a sense about schmoozing. This is the networking aspect writers so often dread. It’s part of the deal of trying to be a professional, no doubt. At the same time, I would beg you to not become the clutching-grasping-desperate screenwriter cornering industry professionals with stacks of screenplays at events like Screenwriting Expo.

Please don’t become the stalker.

My exit was good form. What came from this chance meeting was an email from the producer asking for my latest script. I passed it along. Nothing came of it, but the contact may yet be useful.

If you don’t want to be the Unknown Screenwriter your whole life, chances are you’ll have to learn the art of the schmooze.

Here’s an instructional video: Truly cringe-worthy, not likely to help in the least, but sadly funny as hell. Happy schmoozing!

 

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