I know how it sounds.
Every writer thinks their story belongs on the big screen. Lights. Camera. Red carpet. The works. But that’s not where this is coming from. I’m not dreaming of Oscars while I scribble lines—I’m just watching this story play out in my head the same way it always did: like a movie.
From the first page of Woody Buchman, it’s always felt cinematic to me. The tension. The grit. The characters. The streets. It’s not just words on a page—it moves. The rhythm, the pacing, the way the scenes unfold—it’s visual. Dialogue you can hear. Faces you can see. A city that breathes. Woody isn’t some cape-wearing hero or invincible action figure. He’s raw. He’s flawed. He’s real. And that kind of character? He belongs on screen.
It’s got that same energy as the movie, Wall Street. You know the one—Michael Douglas as Gordon Gekko, slick suit, sharper tongue, and enough ambition to torch a city. That movie made money and power feel seductive, dangerous, and dark. Woody Buchman picks up where that kind of story leaves off—when the party’s over, the lies catch up, and the fallout gets personal. Woody’s not on top of the world—he’s underneath it, trying to crawl his way out.
Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m not saying Hollywood’s calling my phone (yet). But I do believe stories like this deserve a shot. Financial crime, addiction, betrayal, love, redemption—all of it grounded in something that feels true. You don’t need to blow up a building every ten minutes to make people sit forward in their seats. Sometimes it’s just a look across a smoky room. Sometimes it’s a phone ringing in the middle of the night. Sometimes it’s a man realizing he’s gone too far to ever go back.
And about that term—pipe dream. Ever wonder where it came from? It originally referred to the hallucinations people had when smoking opium pipes. Wild, fantastical, impossible dreams. So yeah, saying something’s a pipe dream has always meant it’s pretty unlikely. But here’s the thing: not all dreams need to stay that way.
I’ve lived on the streets. I’ve been through the darkness. I’ve clawed my way back. I wrote Woody Buchman from that place. From truth. From the ashes. And if Hollywood ever wanted to shine a light on something that hits hard, says something real, and sticks with you long after the credits roll—I’ve got the story.
This isn’t about ego. This is about belief. And maybe, just maybe, it’s about turning a former “pipe dream” into something you can actually see on screen.
So yeah, I think it would make a great movie. And I’m not apologizing for saying it.
