Nobody knows nothing

A friends asks if all the rejection gets me down.
‘No,’ I say. ‘Because it’s all subjective.’
He doesn’t believe me so I tell him a story:
I had finished the screenplay for “Laid Up” - a black comedy about a female lifeguard getting stalked by a foot fetishist - and was raising money to shoot it myself, asking people to buy shares in my company.
One woman I faxed was the producer of two very famous British movies in the late seventies/early eighties. An hour after I faxed she called back:
‘Darling, that was the perfect begging letter. You absolutely have to send me your screenplay. Right away, please.’
I sent it. Two days later she called again.
‘No, Darling, no. Not good. In fact it was one of the worst things I ‘ve read for a long time. I suppose you could take it to Channel 5. You’d be amazed what they put money into.’
She really said that.
Six months later and I’ve produced and directed “Laid Up” (£5,000 for a 90 minute feature shot on super-16) and we’re in post-production. A lady calls.
‘Hello, my name is xxx and I’m a producer at xxx, we have a first look deal with Sony in LA and I’ve just read “Laid Up.” I love it and want to buy it.’
‘Really? Great. How did you get hold of a copy?’
‘Oh, xxx recommended it. She said it was the best British script since “The Full Monty.”'
You can guess who that last xxx was. I have no idea what changed her opinion in those six months.
This is why I don’t take rejection personally.