Austin, Texas- It’s been the subject of fantasy for decades: the capital of a mythic state, happening home of Texas’ largest university, computer boomtown, birthplace of cutting-edge music, and generalized Mecca of the Terminally Cool. And, for the past five years or so, it’s hosted one of the most prestigious screenwriting conferences in the country, the Austin Film Festival (AFF, for short). AFF is the place to go to meet professional screenwriters, producers, actors, directors, agents, managers, and countless others involved in the creation of motion pictures. Go there any year and you’re almost certain to run into someone you’ve admired or even idolized, someone who can turn your dreams of fame and fortune into reality. Legends abound of deals made over cocktails, contracts scrawled onto the embossed paper napkins of the Driskill Bar. All you have to do is walk in and flash your brilliance at them, and the next day you’re a star. Of course, the slightest mistake is also death, and you’ll never have anything like lunch in any town, ever again. It all rides on the impression you make. Pretty intimidating, huh? Well, it’s not so bad once you realize that the above is complete hooey. Maybe a contract was once written over pints of Shiner Bock and an ashtray filled with mixed nuts, but I never saw anything like that. Mostly what happens in the Driskill Bar involves a lot of drinking. I heard of more hangovers being formed than deals. Which brings us to the first rule of Networking at the AFF… The Driskill Bar isn’t the Real World – as in any bar, you make fast friends in the place, but only for the night. Don’t expect any promises to be honored that were made under the influence of alcohol and amplified piano music. If you like smoke (and lots of it), booze and people on the make, this might be a fun place for you. It’s a great bar, in fact, lots of wood and brass and comfortable seating. Heck, the men’s room looks like an English millionaire’s private library, you expect Jeeves to shimmer out with a linen towel on a silver salver. But the soda fountain at Schwab’s it ain’t. No one gets discovered here. Hard enough to get a waitress to notice you. One night when I entered, looking for someone to attend a midnight screening with me (more on screenings later), I was waylaid at the bar. A man grabbed my hand and congratulated me on the new family, my career, and all sorts of other honors I hadn’t earned. I nodded blandly, still on the lookout for my friends, and then the fellow introduced me to his partner as "Chris." And thus drops the penny; I’d met Chris McQuarrie at a roundtable, and people there had commented on how similar he and I looked. These two thought I was an Oscar-winning screenwriter and deft raconteur. No wonder I was suddenly their best bud. I politely extricated myself, and it was only later that I realized I should have said, "hey, you think I’m good, you should check out this Pete Barnstrom cat…!" This is, I think, about the average for the Driskill. Even if you do meet someone there, he’s as busy as you are trying to find someone else to further his career. I did meet some fellow writers there, and even made some friends. But I don’t expect any of them to sign me to a contract. They’re just good people, in the same position I am. The Driskill Bar is dandy for pleasant conversation (at least until the piano cranks up). But the key to success? No. Which is not to say that you can’t learn anything at the AFF… Panels and Roundtables – when you arrive at the Festival (and I’d advise getting there the day before it begins, if possible), you are given a bag chock full of stuff. One such item is a booklet with lots of information in it. Study it. For that matter, look at everything in the bag – I neglected to do so and missed out on a couple of parties and some freebies I had coming. But study that booklet with a listing of all the panels and roundtables. You need to know about this. Panels are more or less speeches, given by someone in the business and telling us various things we need to know. Some are going to be more useful than others, but there are always three or four going on at the same time. Pick carefully. Most that I attended were valuable, but there were a few I wish I hadn’t bothered with. Not that they weren’t informative, just that they weren’t directly germane to my goals. Roundtables are similar, but more intimate. Seven or eight tables are set up around the room, and fifteen or so professionals are sent out to talk at the tables. The speakers you get are more or less left up to chance (although it never hurts to ask one of the organizers to send one you most want to see over to your table next), and there’s time to speak with three of these people. Officially, you can only sign up for one roundtable, so pick carefully. But if you see another one that you want to enter, odds are pretty good you can get it. Just get there early and be the first in line for after they’ve let everyone in who has a reserved seat and discover just how many empty seats they have left. It’s a good idea (and here’s where that study the night before comes in) to have a set of questions you want answered in a panel or roundtable. There’s always plenty of time for questions, and asking them not only gets your needs met, it gets your face seen. If a high-powered producer speaks with you often enough, he’ll begin to believe he knows you. And as long as you aren’t being annoying, that’s a good thing. These are the places you can get to know the professionals, and maybe even get a foot in the door. One agent I saw there said that I could send him a query, and as long as I mentioned that we’d met at the AFF, it would even get read. But you aren’t just here to learn, are you? You want to sell a script. That doesn’t happen often. But as one panelist there mentioned, even if you don’t sell your script, your script may sell you… Sell Yourself – shake hands, be friendly, let people know who you are. It’s a cliché, but this is a business of relationships. People want to know you. This is a place to get to know those people. But Mistah Pete, I hear you say, I’m a writer, not an actor! I am not possessed of your devastating good looks and boyish charm. Yeah, that’s true of most people, not just writers. But if you’re under the impression that writers don’t have to be salesmen, then I hope you’re enjoying your hobby. See, you write without selling, and the only people who see it are your friends and family. Go to a film festival to learn, yes, but also to get your name and product out to those who are buying. You’re too self-conscious to introduce yourself to a stranger? Get over it. Here are a few hints to get you working: Make yourself feel good. If you have great hair, wear it in a way that you know looks best. Or dress up or down, tie to tie-dye, as your tastes dictate. (There is no dress code.) Eat right, take care of your body. Maybe sneak a little comfort food? Get yourself into a good mood. Print up some cards. And not just some black-and-white bland name and phone number. Do something interesting, draw attention to yourself. Mine had the titles and taglines for three scripts on the back. But don’t get carried away; anything larger than a card can be challenging to carry, and is very easy to throw away. Polish your script until it sparkles. If you’ve got a product you can feel confident about, then you can feel confident about yourself, too. Bring a copy, but don’t expect to give it out (see above about big things being thrown away). Have it on hand to look at and touch. Never hurts to have a physical reminder that you are good at this. Bring a friend, or make one as soon as you arrive. Don’t worry, everyone is there to make friends, you won’t have to look far. Being part of a crowd, however small, can be a comfort. If possible, latch onto someone who has what you do not – an outgoing personality, or good looks, or a memory for names, or connections, whatever. Bask in reflected glow. Oh, and one secret hint, you can’t tell anyone. You’re given a nametag when you arrive, at the end of a tether you wear around your neck. It looks cool, like you’re a real VIP slipping in backstage, not like something you paste onto your shirt at a Shriner’s convention. Yeah, you’re in with the In-Crowd. Lose it. Not the nametag, they have info on them that get you through doors and into free buffets and screenings. But the tether you don’t need. Those things flop around as you walk, turn around and over and your name is hidden. No one looks anyone in the eye, instead looking down in vain hope of knowing who the heck he or she may be talking to. Wear a shirt with a breast pocket and tuck the tether inside of it with the nametag hanging out. I carried a brightly colored clothespin, so that mine wasn’t going anywhere. If at all possible, wear it on the right side of your shirt, just like those sticky "Hi, My Name Is" nametags – if it’s clearly visible, right at the end of the arm you’re shaking, it’s easy to call that person by name. And finally, the one thing you really must do at the AFF… Have fun – believe me, it’s not hard. If you’re into nightlife, the Driskill Hotel is right down in the thick of Sixth Street, Austin’s notorious party strip. If you happen to be staying at the Driskill (or at the Omni, right across the street and host to half of the panels and roundtables), you don’t even have to drive home. It can be a little much sometimes, and you don’t want to be around when the bars close; it can look like a war-zone, all of the college students being dragged away by their only slightly more sober friends. But there’s always a lot of music and other fun things going on out there. Some of it even happens while the sun’s up – this year, the street was closed for a basketball competition, and the slam dunks were as spectacular as anything you’ll see during NBA All-Star Weekend. If you’re into movies (and if you’re not, why are you going?), catch some screenings. It’s very easy to do, and free, and the festival provides transportation to some of the screens that are not within walking distance. You will almost certainly meet some filmmakers at the festival, some of whom will ask you to see their films. There are a lot of good ones. I saw drama that choked me up, shorts that made me laugh, action that made me cheer. And you’ll find some great experimental stuff, too – I am a believer in the digital video movement after seeing some of the features there. You’ll even see some Hollywood blockbusters if you want, as the honored guest speakers frequently will show their award-winning classics. Screenings can be a good place to meet and greet, too; not only will the filmmakers have a Q&A session afterwards, but an entertainment attorney gave me his card and asked me to call after we chatted on the bus. Take advantage of the free stuff. I think I only paid for one meal while I was there, although I spent far too much on drinks at the Driskill. There’ll likely be a happy hour one night, maybe a free buffet another. If you can get into a party, do it. There are even people who you’ll meet who might be able to sneak you into the ones you aren’t invited to. Oh, and don’t forget to get your parking ticket validated if you go to a screening at the Dobie. Every little bit helps. Ask questions of everyone, not just those who are put up as experts. You’ll find someone who is interested in the same things you are, who is willing to help you in any variety of ways, or who is just fun to know. Make friends. You can never have too many of those, and you never know when one of them just might be willing to help you out.

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