As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a Christian screenwriter.
Two years ago, God came to me in a dream with a pitch for a beautiful Christian film. The story centered on a boy and his dog and their incredibly wholesome bond. It featured pure characters and tackled such timeless themes as love, friendship, and forgiveness.
When I awoke, I immediately went to work on bringing God’s movie pitch to life. After six days of drafting, I had a completed screenplay. I titled it, A Boy and His Dog: An Unbreakable Bond.
With the Lord by my side, I booked a flight with Judah 1 airlines and flew out to Hollywood in search of a buyer. Unfortunately, I soon discovered that Tinseltown had a very anti-Christian agenda. After receiving multiple rejections, I was beginning to doubt that God’s screenplay would ever see the light of day.
Veering close to bankruptcy, I did something truly sinful. I took a copy-editing job at a pornographic, multimedia website called Feed the Snake.
The experience was nothing short of humiliating. Seated at the bottom of a corporate ladder covered in lubricant, I would receive urgent grammatical inquiries from the copywriters, many of whom also served as the onscreen talent. A career lowlight was being asked if the word “cum-dumpster” should be hyphenated.
The onscreen talent eventually grew tired of summarizing their performances. Around this time, it was suggested that I be promoted to lead copywriter. To prove my writing prowess, I was tasked with composing a catchy tagline to advertise an upcoming scene centered on incest.
Mortified at the prospect of falling further down this immoral rabbit hole of smut, I went out of my way to construct the lamest tagline imaginable:
“Mike thinks Rachel can get it, but Rachel is… HIS SISTER?!?”
In a surprise twist, my supervisors loved it, and I was promoted on the spot.
Naturally, I was devastated.
As a copywriter, I was tasked with summarizing the events of a pornographic scene using two hundred colorful descriptors or less. In total, I’ve watched over six hundred hours of Feed the Snake content. Thanks to this job, I know the names of more pornstars than U.S. Presidents.
Due to the overexposure, I quickly grew accustomed to the smut. However, I always found the poor plotting and sacrilegious dialogue to be insufferable.
One day, I submitted a scene summary suggesting viewers watch along without the aid of sound. This did not bode well with my supervisors, who retaliated with the following ultimatum: submit a feature-length script of my own that is warmly received, or lose my job.
I was at a crossroads. On the one hand, I hated this job, so the possibility of getting canned was tempting. On the other hand, I couldn’t survive financially without it.
Searching for answers, I wandered into a church located on Sunset Boulevard. Upon explaining my dilemma to a priest, I was berated without remorse, and shortly thereafter, thrown out of the sanctuary. In hindsight, perhaps I should’ve known better.
Picking myself up from the concrete sidewalk, I caught a glimpse of the historical Hollywood sign shrouded behind a dense cloud of smog. The sinful haze of Tinseltown had kept me from bestowing God’s virtuous screenplay to the world for far too long. Going forward, I knew what I had to do.
Within an email, I attached God’s rejected screenplay, A Boy and His Dog: An Unbreakable Bond, and submitted it to my supervisors. When I awoke the next day, I was expecting to read an angry reply message. Instead, I was greeted with the following email:
“This is genius! Your story is going to take Feed the Snake in an entirely new direction. We’ll have to take some creative liberties, but rest assured your vision will remain intact.”
I was baffled. A Boy and His Dog: An Unbreakable Bond was far too wholesome to have any value within the pornographic industry. My eyes kept hovering over the words “creative liberties.”
In one week, I received a follow-up email containing a plot synopsis and a hyperlink. The synopsis read:
“This summer, playtime is about to get ruff. Johnny Sins is a Boy. Lana Rhoades is a Dog. Feed the Snake proudly presents: A Boy and His Dog: An Unbreakable Bond.”
Slightly nauseous, I clicked the hyperlink, which redirected me to the feature presentation.
It soon became evident what my supervisors meant by creative liberties.
During a particularly intense bonding scene between the titular boy and his dog, something beautiful happened: I recognized the heart of God’s story. The inclusion of hardcore sex scenes was undeniably apparent, but the Lord’s vision remained intact, just as my supervisors had promised. When the credits rolled, I found myself in tears, overcome with joy.
Several months passed. A Boy and His Dog: An Unbreakable Bond won six AVN awards, including best screenplay and best adult film. Following this success, I was promoted to lead screenwriter at Feed the Snake. Additionally, the church on Sunset Boulevard welcomed me back with open arms after I made a generous cash donation.
To this day, graphic sexual content is shoehorned into my wholesome scripts. However, I’m not bothered by this compromise. After years of struggling to make headway, I was finally a bona fide Christian screenwriter, and I owed it all to God and pornography.
Preconceived negativity nearly blinded me from realizing the positives of a rather unusual situation. The lesson: keep an open mind, and the Lord will guide you through the smog.