Introduce Yourself : "Writing the Words to the Sermon That No One Will Hear" by David White

Eleven screenplays, six novels, but none of them sold.

Plenty of finalist positions, but no victories.

My wife wants me to give up writing and get a "real" job, like Walmart greeter, or a trainee under my son's tutelage at the local Arby's.

My career can be described in the words of Kate McKinnon's character from "Yesterday,” "Profoundly unsuccessful for ten years," except it's been longer than that, actually. Truth be told, I've been a professional writer for more than thirty years for multiple Chicago ad agencies, creating commercials for TBS, Peterghoff Vodka, the NFL, Chef Paul Prudhomme, Citibank, Wolverine Boots.

But where's the audience for my better-than-the-DaVinci-Code novel, "Eternal Horizons: On the Trail of the Templar Treasure"? When's the opening night for "Welcome to Highville," my cross between Cheech and Chong and "Willy Wonka," with a touch of "Thelma and Louise" and a cameo by "The Big Lebowski"? Why do people love my pilot about the real Men in Black, "Silencers," but continually tell me it'll never get made because "It's too close to the truth"? Will I never find a production company with enough balls to make my short, “One Night Only,” which focuses a spotlight on fascism in a way no one else has?

Will I never find an outlet for the two dozen other screenplays I’ve started but never finished because Real Life and the Need to Feed (Others) continually got in the way?

I dunno. You tell me.