STORY, STORY...I WRITE BETTER CRAP

Disclaimer: The aim of this article is information and enlightenment; please consult a solicitor for individual professional advice.

STORY, STORY...I WRITE BETTER CRAP

Maybe you are genuinely talented and your head is always vibrating with stories, plots and lines. Perhaps, you come from a highly critical breed and you stew when you watch ‘crap’ on TV, and decide that you write better stories. Or perhaps, you just want your own share of the Hollywood, sorry Nollywood cake. Bottom line: you have a story to tell and you want to watch it acted out on the big or small screen.

If you do not want to get to the television and film industry in Nigeria through the agent route, you have two options, as I see it (through my limited pair of lens).

First option. You can be the alpha and omega of your story- the producer, director, scriptwriter, and maybe cast yourself as the major actor too, for good measure. That way, you can scrutinise every detail of the film or TV programme to your liking, just as it was concocted in your head. Or you can be just the producer. Then you could hire a director and frustrate the heck out of him by dropping ‘innocent’ suggestions at every turn. Even better, you can hire a good director, whose work you have personally seen and agree with (we actually have some of them around, would you believe it), and allow him room to do his work, after all, you really are a novice. You may just, for safety purposes, include it in his contract that you are allowed a considerable amount of input. It’s your project afterall, and the director works for you, when it comes right down to it.

However, this option is only possible when you have enough money or sponsorship to foot the bills of making a movie, and the time to see every inch of it through.

This is where your second option comes in. Unless you are really lucky, you’ll have to pitch your story to a richer and more experienced film or television programme producer; and he has to like it.

If he buys into it, you have saved yourself a whole lot of Panadol money. But what happens when you give the producer your story and he reads it and declines to be involved. And then a few months later, you watch your story on TV, ably produced by him, of course. When that happens, you will be at a disadvantage because he may deny reading your story and insist that someone else came up with the idea. You may now be left with the choice of litigation, and even then you’ll be facing an enemy way bigger than you with a lot of resources and experience behind him. In fact, even proving that he read your story at all may be tough.

Now, I’m not going to tell you how to make sure he likes your story, just say your prayers. However, I can give you tips on how to protect your interest when sharing your story.

The Nigerian Copyright Act is on your side. By section 1 of the Act, your story is eligible for copyright protection. However, this protection only comes into being when it is original and fixed on a definite medium of expression. It follows that it best if it’s written (if you cannot have it typewritten, at least splurge on a paper, pen and a decent handwriting). This protection lasts for seventy years after the end of the year in which the author dies. Thus, if you you’re your cards right, you might be leaving some nice royalties for your heirs.

As the author/ creator of that story, you become the owner of the copyright in the work. The nature of the protection is described in Section 5 (1) of the same Act. As the copyright owner, you generally have, amidst some exceptions, the exclusive right (in Nigeria) to do and authorise the doing of a number of acts including the production, reproduction, public performance or publishing of your story or any adaptation of it. You also get to control the making of a cinematograph film, record or broadcast and the public or commercial distribution of your story and any translation thereof. And anyone who does any of these acts (and some additional ones provided for under section 14) without your licence or authorisation has infringed your copyright.

By way of its provisions, the Nigerian Copyright Act is your friend. Unfortunately however, its enforcement may not be quite as kind. Thus, the responsibility is on you to protect yourself as much as possible.

There is something called a Non-Use and Non-Disclosure Agreement. This means that when you get a producer to sign it, he is prevented from using your story in any form. There is also an element of confidentiality and he is barred from disclosing it to or sharing it with another person. This sure simplifies a lot of things.

However, getting a producer to sign an agreement (a.k.a potential liability) will not be easy. I mean, you practically ‘suffered’ to get audience and probably have all of five minutes to pitch your story and make him like it, so thrusting your agreement under his nose for signature may be awkward. Imagine this: you walk into Tunde Kelani or Wale Adenuga’s office, whip out a Non-Use and Non-Disclosure Agreement and calmly ask him to sign it before you let him read your story. The odds are you might be walked out, just ask calmly and politely. You could be the next J.K. Rowling, but there are hundreds of writers (most of them full of crap, if it’s any consolation) who would gladly give the producers their stories without a fuss.

Yet you still need to get your story across and protect your interest in the best possible way. Take these tips home:

1. Talk to a lawyer. This gives you a more personal knowledge of the best way to protect your interests in your own individual situation.

2. Get someone to accompany you to see the producer. This really should be your agent or your lawyer, but if it’s the latter, the producer may get defensive. So you might want to go with a true friend or a ‘friend’ who just happens to be a lawyer (wink!). You can conveniently disclose this after audience with the producer, if need be. The whole idea of going with company is for the sake of proof, should a conflict arise later.

3. Before you tell your story (of course, always have a written copy), tell the producer, very nicely, that it is confidential, and that if he ends up using it, you would expect reasonable compensation. It is likely that he will agree verbally, or at least give some indication that he has heard you, maybe a nod. That way, while you have not entered into a ‘written’ agreement, you have entered into an oral one. This is usually harder to prove, but that why is you have a witness with you. However, if the producer says no, you do NOT have a contract.

4. After the meeting, you can send a polite, non-threatening letter to the producer thanking him for the opportunity to discuss your story (state the main plot of the story in one sentence, to clear any doubt). In this letter, you can casually refer to the oral agreement you had earlier entered into (you do not have to actually call it an agreement). If the producer does not immediately deny the existence of such an agreement, this may be construed as an affirmation of its existence. This letter could be used as evidence of your agreement.

5. If any of the above seems calculating to you, you could present the producer with only a part of the story that you consider ‘safe’. Then you can insist that he signs a Non-Use and Non-Disclosure Agreement before he reads the complete story. However, you have the added pressure of making the first-revealed part of the story very irresistible, such that he wouldn’t mind signing an agreement before he sees the rest of it. You might also want to make sure that the later part isn’t quite predictable, so that if he refuses to sign the agreement and he makes his own ending, it would still be different from what you have written.

So, dare we hope for better crap on TV?