Ten Thoughts: Writing "Tough Love"
If you want to be a successful screenwriter, you probably know how much competition is out there.
The Writers Guild of America has about 10,000 members who all write at least one script a year, the film schools are churning screenwriters out faster than Taco Bell can make a Gordita, most frustrated lawyers have a spec "Boston Legal" screenplay in their drawers, and there must be another million or so people who type away on their word processors every night hoping to escape whatever they think is wrong with their lives with a huge spec sale to Hollywood. I'm not cynical, but I am a realist.
I'm also somebody who believes everybody needs to follow their dreams to the extent they can. And I'm also a pragmatist.
So two nights ago, I found myself at Jerry's Deli out here in the valley sitting down with a fellow University of Oregon graduate who wanted to talk about getting his screenwriting career kick-started. He has written five screenplays already and was hoping to sell one of them. He has no agent, manager, lawyer or, having recently moved to Los Angeles, many friends or contacts in the industry. He was considering writing more scripts so he'd have more variety to show people.
Now I could have told him the standard-issue advice. Write from the heart. Have something to say. Speak with passion. Instead, here's what I told him:
1) Don't write any more scripts until you've re-written each one of the first five so that they are bright, shining examples of perfection. People only read one page at a time and it is better to have one brilliant script to show around than five mediocre ones that need more work.
2) I told him I wouldn't read his scripts because, as a writer myself, I'm trying to sell my own scripts. This is my policy going back years because I don't want to read somebody's western, say, and then when I sell my own western years later, have that person claim I ripped them off.
3) His calling card is a Christmas script. I told him that a Christmas script is a fine thing for people who want a Christmas script (I have one), but it's not your "get-to-know-a-writer-better" script.
4) He was thinking of joining a "Writers Group." Why, I asked? So he can hang around with other writers and commiserate about how hard it is to get read? The only reason to join a writers group is to address loneliness issues, or to get feedback, but not to sell your script.
5) I asked him if he owned a laptop. He said no. I told him to buy a laptop, and spend at least one day a week visibly working on his screenplay in high-traffic area Starbucks in Beverly Hills, Century City, West Hollywood, Brentwood, Santa Monica, Burbank -- anywhere he could imagine that executives, producers, assistants, directors, agents, managers, etc. might be going for coffee. I told him to put a hard copy screenplay of his next to his laptop, and be working on it, too. That way, if anybody talked to him, he could say he had this one finished script and another one in the works.
6) I told him to buy a book with a provocative title, like The 48 Laws of Power (which with its bright orange and purple cover is also visually arresting) and put it on the table, too. This will make him an interersting person to start a conversation with.
7) He also does not belong to a gym. I told him to get a membership and to go regularly. My advice is to wear no headphones, and not to take an iPod, and to look available for conversation. I thought he should bring a hard copy of screenplay and a pen and visibly write notes on the script between weight sets (even it was, "I feel like an idiot, I think that woman is staring at me.")
8) Speaking of pens, he did not bring one to our dinner. That is a mistake. Bring one, plus a notebook, and write down any pearls of wisdom as they are difficult to remember later. Fortunately for this man, I have my blog and he can read it here.
9) He also did not think to ask me for other references. This is another mistake. Never solicit advice from anyone without asking for names of other people to call, using their name, at a later time. And use that pen to write down the names and numbers.
10) Put aside a portion of your budget for these lunches, dinners and coffees (assuming you have a day job that will let you). If you ask for the meeting, you pay. Basically, if you want somebody to help you sell your screenplay, then buy them a sandwich, don't make them buy you one. It's a double ask.
Okay, I realize some of these are calculating, paranoid, scolding and condescending, but... and this is the kicker... they just might work. Because ask yourself this: if this would-be successful screenwriter stays at home writing scripts six, seven and eight and only goes to work at the office during the day, how is he going to plug-in with the people in Hollywood who could help him?
I should hasten to add here that nothing will ever work if what you write is pedestrian, mediocre or half-baked because, contrary to popular opinion, the people making a living at screenwriting out here are some of the brightest, wittiest and most tuned-in people you'll ever meet. And, the other truth is, most people who think what they write is pretty damn good are usually wrong. Sometimes, the fact that you can't sell isn't about access, but about the market having something to say to you about the quality of your material.
Finally, to this fellow UO Duck, I hope you sell your screenplay, become a big success and, if you do, let me in your writers group. Writing this blog is lonely work...
{NOTE: I wish I could credit the artist who did that artwork, but I don't know who it is. If you do, let me know.}
Recent Comments