The Courage to Write: How Hollywood Helped Us Find Hope, Voice, and Community
Three Summiteers reflect on their Hollywood moments—from first pitches to lifelong bonds—and remind us that the writing life is filled with possibility.
Welcome to our living anthology, celebrating and supporting the talent of the emerging and seasoned writers of Story Summit.
In this issue of Story Summit Voices, we’re proud to feature three essays from Summiteers who were part of our Hollywood Field Trips in May. Their stories remind us that, no matter where we are in the process, the writing life is one of discovery, persistence, and even healing.
Charlene Dunbar’s “Finding My Voice” reflects on the quiet yet powerful moment when a writer begins to trust her own words. Annee Martin’s “A Writer’s Journey: Finding More Than Hollywood” chronicles the unexpected rewards that come from pursuing a dream. And in “After the First Pitch,” Nancy Franklin invites us along for the rollercoaster of a writer’s first big break—and the humbling, yet humorous, lessons that follow.
Nancy Franklin loves to write about life’s absurdities, whenever and wherever she finds them. She has been published in the Los Angeles Times, Chicago Tribune, and on online humor sites including Slackjaw and The Belladonna. She was also featured on a segment of John Krasinski’s “Some Good News.”
She shared about her piece, “This actually happened to me at the Hollywood pitch sessions during Story Summit Hollywood Week. I learned a LOT....and I did use this when I queried again last week. Fingers crossed...”
“After the First Pitch” by Nancy Franklin
Hallelujah! My first pitch, my first request for a script!
I am over the moon! My head is swelling. Never mind that 15 minutes before, I was in the ladies’ room, nerves wreaking havoc with my intestines. Someone in the next stall was retching. Ah, the kinship of scriptwriters!
But now, I am a STAR! I am the GREATEST EVER! Until I get to my second pitch.
I show the agent my lookbook with a picture of Sam Shepard included as a suggested lead.
“Sam Shepard is dead,” the agent says.
Record scratch. Ego crashes to Earth. Wile E. Coyote hits the wall—no requested script.
Note to self: Even though actors may be “immortalized” on film, you, a writer, cannot resurrect them to play your lead.
What’s that quote from Henry Ford about failure being “simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently?”
I’ll begin again, and maybe when I query the agent on another script, I’ll use that moment as a reminder. And check to make sure that all the actors I recommend are living.
Find more from Nancy on Substack
Or visit her website for more laughs.
Charlene Dunbar has always fancied herself a storyteller, but Hollywood Week with Story Summit was the first time she let her writing take center stage. She’s been everything from an attorney, to a Major League Baseball chatroom host, to a horse farm wrangler. These days she raises lavender and honey bees, throws shrimp nets in the rivers outside Beaufort, South Carolina—just to see what bites—and has an impressive track record with fall bass fishing.
She shared that the creative immersion of Hollywood Week—bringing writers together in Los Angeles for five intense, inspiring days—was her inspiration for this piece. Hollywood Week allowed her to pitch to professionals, and to build community with other writers. It also reminded everyone who attended why they write in the first place.
“Finding My Voice” by Charlene Dunbar
I’ve been a storyteller for as long as I can remember. It runs in the family—my father was one, too. Like me, he was quiet around strangers, but his stories gave him a voice. When I lost my father in 2023, I also lost my voice. My creative side withdrew, retreating somewhere deep in me to cope with the inconsolable loss. It took two years, and a trip to Hollywood, for that voice to return.
Writing is such a solitary endeavor. Paired with my tendency to listen more than speak, it made me hesitant to raise my voice during the event. But as always, you find your people—and this trip was no exception.
In just five days, I made friendships I know will last. Fellow writers I can reach out to when I need to chat, to vent, or to ask, “Can you read this over for me?” People who understand what it means to stare at a page and wonder if your words matter.
One thing I heard over and over again from these amazing storytellers was this: they felt like they were imposters. That feeling that you’re faking it, that you don’t belong in the room.
I told them what I’ve had to tell myself countless times—it’s a lie. But I get it. Writing is lonely, and without regular feedback, doubt can creep in and fester. Until we shape our story into a logline, a one-pager, a pitch—and hand it to a stranger—we don’t really know where we stand.
So, what happened on the Hollywood trip?
First, I met like-minded people face to face, and the size of my creative community grew overnight.
Second, I did my very first pitch sessions—two of them! —and I survived. I received feedback that lifted me more than I can say, giving me real hope for a future as a screenwriter.
Third, Hollywood was demystified. It no longer feels like a dream I’ll never reach. It feels... possible. Even…probable.
One of the best things that happened during Hollywood week was that I was inspired. Inspired to write again, to stick with it, and to believe that something great is just around the next corner.
Hollywood gave me many things—connection, courage, momentum. But most of all, it gave me back my voice.
And I’m holding onto it this time.
Annee Martin’s background includes being a therapist, professional chef, inn owner, cookbook author, interior designer, boutique owner, artist, and writer (her passion). She lives with her husband David and rescue dog Gracee and wants to make the world a more beautiful, kinder place to live in.
Annee shared that the inspiration for her essay came from a place of deep gratitude for being a part of the extraordinary circle of Story Summit writers.
“A Writer’s Journey: Finding More Than Hollywood” by Annee Martin
In May 2025, I walked into Hollywood not as a tourist, but as a screenwriter—something I never imagined becoming.
Three years earlier, I stumbled into David Kirkpatrick’s masterclass at the Kauai Writers Conference with nothing but a love story, curiosity, and a desire to write a Hallmark movie to honor my mother. I had no real experience—just an inner whisper: “Jump, and the net will appear.”
I sat at the back of that first class, feeling out of place. Most had scripts. I had a notebook and a stubborn hope. David told stories—some from Hollywood, others from the heart. One stayed with me: the housewife who secretly wrote in her attic and emerged with Ordinary People. That story reminded me that extraordinary things often begin with quiet belief in the possible.
One assignment was to write a scene. I googled how. Alone in my oceanfront room, I typed my first scene ever. The next day, David called on me to read. I stood shaking, no training wheels, no safety net. Afterward, I had my first full-blown imposter syndrome meltdown and practically ran out.
A man stopped me. “I really liked what you read,” he said gently. His name was Sean. That single sentence steadied me. I never forgot him.
Soon after, I joined the Story Summit community and kindred spirits who understood that storytelling was sacred. In my notes from Hawaii, I had circled: “Notice what you notice,” and “Everything is possible.” Those lines became my compass.
Fast forward to May 2025, Hollywood. David invited a cohort of screenwriters—some seasoned, others still finding our voice—into the heart of where dreams take shape. We were asked to write an intention for the week. Mine was simple: to make one soul connection that would become a lifelong friendship.
On day two, at Paramount Studios, I saw Sean again. We hadn’t spoken in person since Kauai. I introduced him to my husband and invited him to join our lunch table. It was Sean’s mother’s birthday, and Deb from our group had FaceTimed her. I watched as Sean, eyes brimming, spoke to her with a love so pure my heart cracked open.
Then I learned more. Sean had been adopted. His birth mother rejected him due to a medical condition, but his mom who raised him, told him he could be anything he wanted. Their bond was a testament to what love can do.
As a mother who has faced estrangement from a son lost to addiction and mental illness, I had never known that kind of returned love. Watching Sean was like looking into a sacred mirror. We wept together—me, Sean, and my husband—our tears falling into our lunch. It wasn’t just emotion. It felt like we were inside grace itself. We weren’t feeling gratitude, we were gratitude. We hadn’t just touched the divine—we were of it. And in that moment, I understood the deeper purpose of story: not just to entertain or explain, but to awaken. To remind us who we really are.
Later that week, David brought in producers and agents. To my surprise and joy, a producer requested my script. That doesn’t happen every day, especially to someone so new. But even more meaningful than the request was what I had come to understand: this wasn’t just a dream anymore. It had become a calling, and I hadn’t arrived here alone.
I had crossed a bridge, built by others’ belief—David’s, Deb’s, Sean’s, and a circle of mentors and peers who quietly lit the way. Sometimes one person’s belief becomes the bridge between who we are and who we are becoming.
I may not yet know how to build that kind of bridge for others—but I know how to be a light along the path, a steadying stone when someone needs to find their footing. My courage to show up, to risk, to trust—those might be the quiet gifts that help someone else keep going. And one day, when someone is shaky on the edge of their dream, may I be the voice that steadies them, the presence that reminds them what's possible, just as others have done for me.
For more from Annee on Substack
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Beautiful stories. The Hollywood trip was a magical experience.
My G-d! The story of Annee Martin's candor, courage and compassion with Sean just made me get all teary-eyed. Thank you, Voices for making my day!