Free The Winner Stands Alone by Paulo Coelho

known as an option, that is, he pays around ten thousand dollars to retain
     the rights for three years. And then what happens? Then well pay ten times that amount and
     youll have a right to two percent of the net profits. Thats the finan- cial part of the
     conversation over with, because the writer is convinced hell earn a fortune from his slice
     of the profits.
    If he were to ask around, hed soon find out that the Hollywood ac- countants somehow
     manage it so that no film ever makes a profit.
    Lunch ends with the producer handing the writer a huge contract and asking if he could
     possibly sign it now, so that the studio will know that the product is definitely theirs.
     With his eyes fixed on that (non- existent) percentage and on the possibility of seeing
     his name in lights (which wont happen either, at most therell be a line in the credits,
     saying: Based on the book by . . .), the writer signs the contract without giving the
     matter much thought.
    Vanity of vanities, all is vanity, and there is nothing new under the sun, as Solomon said
     more than three thousand years ago.
    The producer starts knocking on the doors of various studios. Hes known in the industry
     already, and so some of those doors open, but his proposal is not always accepted. In that
     case, he doesnt even bother to ring up the author and invite him to lunch again, he just
     writes him a letter saying that, despite his enthusiasm for the project, the movie
     industry isnt yet ready for that kind of story and hes returning the contract (which he,
     of course, did not sign).
    If the proposal is accepted, the producer then goes to the lowest and least well-paid
     person in the hierarchy: the screenwriter, the person who will spend days, weeks, and
     months writing and rewriting the original idea or the screen adaptation. The scripts are
     sent to the pro- ducer (but never to the author), who, out of habit, automatically re- jects the first draft, knowing that the screenwriter can always do better. More weeks and
     months of coffee and insomnia for the bright young talent (or old hackthere are no halfway
     houses) who rewrites each scene, which are then rejected or reshaped by the producer. (And
     the screenwriter thinks: If he can write so damn well, why doesnt he write the whole
     thing? Then he remembers his salary and goes qui- etly back to his computer.)
    Finally, the script is almost ready. At this point, the producer draws up a list of
     demands: the removal of any political references that might upset a more conservative
     audience; more kissing, because women like that kind of thing; a story with a beginning, a
     middle, and an end, and a hero who moves everyone to tears with his self-sacrifice and
     devotion; and one character who loses a loved one at the start of the film and finds him
     or her again at the end. In fact, most film scripts can be summed up very briefly as: Man
     loves woman. Man loses woman. Man gets woman back. Ninety percent of all films are
     variations on that same theme.
    Films that break this rule have to be very violent to make up for it, or have loads of
     crowd-pleasing special effects. And since this tried and tested formula is a surefire
     winner, why take any unnecessary risks?
    Armed with what he considers
    
    
     to be a well-written story, whom does the producer seek out next? The studio who financed
     the project. The studio, however, has a long line of films to place in the
     ever-diminishing number of cinemas around the world. They ask him to wait a little or to
     find an independent distributor, first making sure that the producer signs another
     gigantic contract (which even takes into account exclusive rights outside of Planet
     Earth), taking full responsibility for all money spent.
    And thats where people like me come in! The independent dis- tributor can walk down the
     street without being recognized, although at media-fests like this everyone knows who he