Zellman & Associates
 

Dear Mr. Hoback,

We like it. Did I just use the word like? Let me rephrase. We love it! I know that you were making a simple book proposal, but let me say that we at Zellman see a lot more potential than a 'mere' book.

Hard as it is, let me suppress my enthusiasm for a moment. We see a motion picture at the very least; as a matter of fact, a 'Wittle Birdie' told me we could take this meme prime time. (Wittle Birdie, as I'm sure you already know, is in-house talk for The WB. Bernard in programming told me they would snap this up in a New York minute. Make that a LA minute, which is about twice as long, but you get the idea).

The thing is, Mark, (and I may call you Mark, may I not, since after reading this treatment, in conjunction with not remembering you from your previous contact [where I seem to have been inexplicably rude]... I feel through this work that I now know you, much as the bumblebee knows the Hyacinth). The thing is, this Hyacinth smells like franchise. Smells like, sounds like, feels like, looks like, and tastes like a goddam franchise. Jesus, that's one hell of a treatment!

There's a maxim in this business which goes something like this. "Treat the artist with the proper respect, at least until they're out of the door. Who knows, maybe they'll come back later with something decent."

Well, my new friend, those word paid off for me this time. Sorry, so sorry, about our last meeting, but absolutely nobody here at Zellman & Assoc. thought that a musical about 911 had a ghost of a chance. Not that it wasn't well written, mind you. Hold on to that morbid baby for another decade or so and we'll be able to camp it up just like 'The Producers'.

But your new concept is a smash, baby. Solid gold. The right concept at the right time. It's got the type of hip spirituality that everybody finds so appealing at the moment. God as a Jew - I love it! (I think this could be bigger than 'Joan of Arcadia'!)

It's got the vampires, and you know as well as I do that everything tastes better with vampire on it. Except you've gone me one better on that premise, which is why you are the artist, and why I have to say these words again - this thing is a smash! Cute perky teenage cheerleader vampires! Oh boy, the guys will be lining up around the block to get their blood sucked.

The premise? Let's not even go there!

Let me get this straight. God runs out of angels in Heaven, so he has to convince all the cheerleaders in Loisdale, N.C., to become Vampangels, who can only create new heavenly hosts by sucking the blood of the hunky community college junior varsity!

Sheer brilliance. But you didn't just stop there, Mark. That would have been too easy for a creative mind like yours! What a twist, and what a twisted brain you've got inside that head of yours! 

But your instincts were absolutely right - it would have been far too easy for the Vampangels to achieve their goal if we didn't bother to throw some obstacles in their way. What a breathtakingly marketable idea. The girls, each one a different nationality and each one as cute as a button, can only venture out in the daylight when all of the guys are still practicing football, and as soon as night starts to fall, they have to go straight home and change into their cute little nighties for bed. This is a smash!

I must tell you, I even like the name! Just between you and me, nobody ever brings me a project where I don't think the name could use a little tweaking, if not a complete overhaul. I'm a tweaker. I like to think of it as a specialty of mine. But you are breaking the mold, Mister Hoback. And you are busting my chops because I can't think of a single way to improve on it. 'Bit By An Angel'. Brilliant!

Mister Hoback, Mark, my friend, you just sit right where you are and have a cold one on me. I'm flying into Reagan on Friday. I'll send a car for you. I've reserved us a corner table at Koko's where we can eat their patented Lobster Wings and talk details. I can hardly wait.

Respectfully,
Zelly

P.S. - Did I tell you, this thing is a smash!

 

2003, Mark Hoback