By Lorelei Vashti

Edited by Veronica Sullivan

A pitch for an original Netflix series


SYNOPSIS: A 5-part TV series about a trendy inner-city couple in their early thirties who move to the country to achieve their lifelong dream of getting chickens.




LORELEI is housesitting interstate, trying to write her first book, when she gets a call from her boyfriend JEREMY.


JEREMY: You know how we’ve been talking about buying a house?

LORELEI: Yes! I love that joke! It’s the funniest thing ever!

JEREMY: Well, I just bought one. In the country.

LORELEI: Oh … kay. Where’s the country?

JEREMY: Selby.

LORELEI: Selby? Where’s Selby?

JEREMY: It’s less than an hour from Melbourne on the Eastern Freeway.

LORELEI (thinks thoughtfully): Hmm, an hour. I guess that’s just like living in East Brunswick and taking the tram to St Kilda?

JEREMY: Yes! Plus, we’ll have a backyard so we can finally achieve our lifelong dream of getting chickens!

LORELEI: Oh my goodness! We have always wanted to get chickens! Selby, here we come!


We hear the joyful clucking of chickens as the title bursts triumphantly onscreen: MY HEART BELONGS TO SELBY: A True Story.




LORELEI and JEREMY move to their new house in Selby, a cosy township positioned at the foothills of the Dandenong Ranges. Placid sheep and goats graze on Selby’s sweeping, grassy slopes. In Selby, the general store, the post office and the bottle shop are all the same thing.


A quaint steam engine called Puffing Billy chugs exhilarated tourists very slowly through the town about ten times a day.


LORELEI: Selby is so charming! I can’t wait to get chickens!

JEREMY: Well actually honey, I’ve been researching the chickens and I don’t think we’re ready to commit to them yet. Too much work. Maybe we should just have some kids instead?

LORELEI: Sure, why not! I love Selby!


They kiss passionately as Puffing Billy toots in the distance.




Four years later


JEREMY is jiggling their wailing newborn, while LORELEI delicately tries to change the nappy of their sick toddler without getting poo all over her hands.


JEREMY: Do you think we might need to move to a bigger house?

LORELEI: But honey, we can’t ever leave this house! Both our kids were born here! And I always dreamed they’d grow up here too.  We’d affix a brass plaque to the front of the house, just like the house where Mozart was born.

JEREMY: But if we get a bigger house, you could have a writing room all to yourself instead of sharing a room with the kids.

LORELEI (turns on ABC for Kids, plonks the toddler down, and opens her computer): Great idea! Let’s start looking!




One week later


LORELEI has gastro and can’t go to the open house viewings that JEREMY has proposed for the weekend.


LORELEI (in between vomits): So, where exactly are these open houses?

JEREMY (tenderly removing a yo-yo of mucousy spew from her hair): They’re in Eltham. It has a similar vibe to Selby – you know, semi-rural, artistic. And it’ll be such a shorter commute for me!

LORELEI: Eltham?! I mean, I love Heide, but is Heide enough reason to move to Eltham?


LORELEI spews dramatically as Jeremy hurries away from the vomit and towards Eltham.


Later that night.


LORELEI: Well, thank goodness you didn’t like any of the houses in Eltham! Because I realised something while I was spewing into the toilet today: I really want to stay in Selby! It’s perfect for us here. I love how green it is, and how the cockatoos and kookaburras squawk like they are having a violent showdown at sunset. I want our children to have a big backyard to run around in, and I really, really want to achieve our lifelong dream of getting chickens!

JEREMY: Yeah, you’re right. I love all those things too. (pauses thoughtfully) Selby is less than an hour from Melbourne on the Eastern Freeway after all.


They kiss passionately as Puffing Billy toots in the distance, but JEREMY pulls away due to the lingering flavour of spew.




A few weeks later


JEREMY comes home from work and casually throws a real estate brochure towards LORELEI, who has two children sitting on top of her as she types frantically on her computer.


LORELEI (barely looks up): What’s that?

JEREMY: It’s our new house!


JEREMY: I put in an offer last week and the real estate just called me to say we got it. We’re moving!


JEREMY: It’s got a writing room for you!

LORELEI: But … but … (whispers hopefully) … is it in Selby?

JEREMY: Yes! It’s still in Selby!

LORELEI: That means …

JEREMY AND LORELEI (in unison): It’s less than an hour away from Melbourne on the Eastern Freeway!

LORELEI: Oh thank goodness! I love you honey! And I love Selby!


They kiss passionately as Puffing Billy toots in the distance.


All of a sudden, JEREMY pulls away from their embrace.


JEREMY: There’s just one thing.

LORELEI: What’s that honey?

JEREMY: The new house has a huge backyard! We can finally achieve our lifelong dream of getting chickens!

LORELEI (pauses thoughtfully): Babe, I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept in years. I really can’t be bothered getting chickens anymore. Can you?

JEREMY: Yeah nah. You’re right. Two kids is plenty.

LORELEI: Oh, thank you honey! (She looks towards the camera and smiles winningly.) And THANK YOU SELBY!


They kiss passionately as Puffing Billy toots in the distance.





Lorelei Vashti is the author of Dress Memory: A Memoir of My Twenties in Dresses (2014) and How to Choose Your Baby’s Last Name (2016). Her writing has also been included in ‘Best Australian Comedy Writing’ (2016), ‘Mothermorphosis’ (2015), and the Women of Letters book series. She co-curates the Women of Letters events in Australia, and also runs Jacky Winter Gardens, a guesthouse and artist retreat in Victoria’s Dandenong Ranges.