Sunday, March 21, 2010

The Road To Tribeca Pt. 1
















So, "White Lines and The Fever" has been accepted into the Tribeca Film Fest! Could I be happier? I dunno, I was stunned silent when we won the Grand Jury award for Best Documentary Short Film at SXSW Film Fest, and now we're heading into Tribeca?!? Wow...

http://www.tribecafilm.com/filmguide/shorts_flashback-film31283.html

I got the call at somewhere near midnight a few nights ago. Honestly, I was sitting in my other office (the bathroom) when my cell phone started ringing. "Who in the hell is that calling here at this time of night!" I said out loud, cause I don't want my wife thinking some woman is calling me or no shit like that. Anyway, she opened the door to my other office and handed me my phone, it was Michael Mouncer.

"What in the hell is Mike doin' callin' me at this time of night?" I thought to myself. "Oh no, maybe we got booed or some shit like that at the film fest. Goddamn it.

Me: Hello
Him: (loud party noise in the background people cheering and shit like that) Hello Mark
Me: Hey Mike, what's the deal?"
Him: YOUR AN AWARD WINNING WRITER NOW, MARK
Me: Huh?
Him: YOUR AN AWARD WINNING WRITER NOW, MARK
Me: How?
Him: We won in our category, we got the Grand Jury Prize for Best Documentary Film Short
Me: No shit?
Him: No shit buddy!

I couldn't move. Damn. We won. Still sitting on the can I called the one person in the world to whom I owe it all to.

"Hey Pop!" I blurted into the phone in the middle of the night still sittin' on the can.
'Hey!" My dad said, probably looking at his clock and wondering the same thing that I did: "who-in-the-hell-is- this, and if it's Mark calling my house at this time of night, something is really wrong."
"Hey Pop, we won."
'You won, won what?"
"Hey Pop, we won in our category at the SXSW Film Fest."
"What? Hold on a second Mom's up. Hey, Mark's film won it's category at the film fest."
"Oh shit!" I heard my mom say in the background.

Understand this, I didn't start writing until I was 34 years old. And please believe my mother has been encouraging me to write since I was in the third grade. But I couldn't see it.

"Wow," she said into the phone, "did you ever believe something like this would happen?"
"Nope, not ever," I told her.
"Hey," My dad said in the background, "bet you didn't see this comin' fifteen years ago!"
"Hell no I didn't," we laughed.

Fifteen years ago...what was I doing? I need pencil and paper. I can write my ass off, but I need pencil and paper to do math.

Oh shit, I was twenty-six years old. I was working as a telecom tech and mailroom clerk at James River. I was hustling my demo tapes everywhere and was getting nowhere. I had my heart set on my music. Glad to see I had more to offer the world than just music. And I'm even happier to realize my God given gifts, millions of people walk through life not knowing what they were put on Earth to do. It is truly a blessing....

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