Reminds me of when my novel (mock memoir) Grand Pop was in development for a premium channel series in 2013. The showrunner was a top, well-established writer/producer with a big time track record. I hadn't heard from him for a couple of weeks. So, I called his cell phone. My timing was the worst... he was at his father's funeral.

He was devastated by the sudden, unexpected death of his dad, not to mention offended by my intrusion into his moment of grief. He dropped all of his development projects, including mine. Soon after that, my manager took a job at a film company, which meant dropping all her clients. I was left high and dry, in my 60s, living in Oregon, looking after my aging parents, and was never able to get representation or interest in the project.

Side note... I was living in Granada Hills when the Northridge quake struck in January 1994. My house was thrown 8 feet up in the air. President Clinton visited the collapsed freeway onramp just past the pile of rubble that used to be a cinderblock wall surrounding my backyard.

I was in the pivoting process at the time, having aged out in the L.A. music business. I started visiting Nashville, where my "experience" was more appreciated. In 95, I moved to Tennessee, and went on to enjoy 16 years as a songwriter/producer/publisher, scoring a number of cuts, including a #1 hit.