From the Page to the Screen - A Music Book to Become a Film
- robjanicke
- Jul 5
- 3 min read
SLACKER has been optioned for a documentary...how did we get here?
When I was a kid, I had dreams of becoming the bass player in Iron Maiden (Steve Harris was and still is in that role), shortstop for the NY Yankees (Can you say Derek Jeter?), or a guy interviewed in a music documentary.
Wait, what?
What can I say? I was a weird kid with astronomical, some would say (and did) crazy, dreams. I was no older than 8 or 9 when these thoughts were floating around my brain. This was the early 80s, heavy metal was my music of choice, baseball was my favorite sport, and MTV was in its infancy but I saw enough interviews to know I wanted someone to talk to me about music too.
Fast forward to my late teens, the start of the digital revolution, and a full-blown disdain for the prospect of a "regular life." As the world would soon find out, I was not alone in my thought process or cynical outlook on the future of my generation.
As a latchkey kid, raised in a single-parent home with the ever-present effects of divorce and therapy tucked away in my back pocket, I felt like I had the right to question everything I was ever taught. Parents, teachers, bosses, and adults of almost any kind at best misunderstood me, and at worst, were my sworn enemies.
My road had a major fork in it.
Still into baseball and metal by the late 80s/early 90s, other genres of music had become more appealing to me. Rap, punk, alternative, and what was to become known as "grunge" had struck a fierce yet needed blow to my soul.
My road no longer contained a fork.
I didn't consciously know it then, but somewhere deep inside of me, my truth had been revealed to me. It resided in that place where Jack Nicholson as Colonel Nathan R. Jessep in A Few Good Men correctly stated, "You don't talk about at parties." It needed time to simmer and develop...a lot of time as it turned out.
April of 2020, just as planet Earth was acting as a Petri dish for the global pandemic, COVID-19, I was in my yard, a prisoner of my home and thoughts. While watching my dog play, I was thinking about something I had heard earlier in the day on a radio show or podcast where the year 1991 was being discussed.
In that moment, it dawned on me that we were eight months away from 1991 being THIRTY years in the rearview. How the fuck could that be possible? Up until that time, whenever a discussion about 90s music or culture came up, the subjects and topics only seemed about ten or so years old...not 30!
Something told me to go back inside, grab my laptop, and start capturing these thoughts. I promptly began to type notes, stories, memories, etc., onto a document for no other reason than my nostalgic benefit. As the days and weeks went on, and the "lockdown" lingered, I found myself adding to the document and formatting it in such a way that it was starting to resemble something bigger. An essay? A series of articles? A book?
Well, here we are, five years removed from some digital scribbling about days gone by, and not only did those nostalgic riddled scribbles somehow turn themselves into a published music book that has been globally distributed and sold, but it has now been optioned for a documentary.
Again, I say, wait, what?
What's the point of all this? Why should anyone care? Fair questions to ask, in my opinion. As I attempt to give you a few answers, keep in mind that everyone's creative process, or dreams of what and who someone might want to become, vary drastically. That being said, my experience with dreams, passions, and ultimately accomplishing some of them could help everyone.
If I've learned anything throughout this entire book journey (and I've learned countless things), it's that belief in yourself, your work, those around you who genuinely want to see you succeed, and undying perseverance, through the most difficult stretches (there are tons), are the most important aspects of getting to where you desire to go.
Do. Not. Stop.
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