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There are a few things I wish I'd known back when I started trying to become a screenwriter. Actually, there are about ten
thousand things. The purpose of this website is to share those things with you. I want you to go into this with your eyes
open. Too many would-be screenwriters are out there breaking their hearts trying to write for Hollywood, without understanding
the nature of the beast that is Hollywood.
Hollywood is a game of musical chairs, and the music stopped before you were born.
They don't need you. They don't need me. They don't want either of us. The people who actually make movies already have
plenty of qualified, capable writers they trust and with whom they like to work. They don't need newbies. They certainly don't
need the 100,000 of us who write new screenplays every year.
So what is a newbie to do? How to start? What is the correct approach? In this section, I'm going to give you twelve steps
to follow to help you on your road to screenwriting. Because too many new writers think this is a three-step process:
1. Write Script.
2. Get Agent.
3. Get Rich.
I wish. Remember, the first step is admitting you have a problem. And you have a problem.
I'd like to start with something a little unusual. It's the best metaphor for getting into Hollywood I've ever come across,
and it's from the brilliant science fiction novel _The Demolished Man_, by Alfred Bester.
In the novel, there is a division within the police force composed of psychics. They can detect guilt in the minds of
criminals, and as a result, the police capture the guilty party 100% of the time. Becoming a member of this specialized division
is highly lucrative and much sought-after. Their headquarters are always filled with eager applicants, who line up at a wide
desk to fill out forms. However, one of the dozen receptionists is psychic, and broadcasts a thought message: "If you
can hear me, go through the door on your left." Only those who can hear the message and go through the door will ever
join. The rest are left outside, forever busy with their paperwork.
That speaks to the first step in becoming a successful screenwriter:
1. Be a Writer.
I can't fix this one for you. Nobody can. No classes, no books, no graduate school, no conference, no connections can
fix this. If you are not a writer, Spielberg can't help you. Writing is a vocation, a calling that many of us heard when we
were children. And unfortunately, I'm not certain it is something you can come to later in life. If you have not been a writer
and a serious reader throughout your life, dramatic writing may remain forever beyond your grasp. Storytelling is like playing
an instrument, or speaking a foreign language. The earlier you learn, the better.
If you are a writer, you're going to have to do a lot of writing. Sorry, that's the breaks. I came to screenwriting out
of novel writing, and I knew how many novels I had to write before I wrote anything half-decent. So I decided I wouldn't show
any of my screenplays to anyone in the business until I had written ten. Oh, I would enter contests to see how my work stacked
up, but there would be no query letters, and no hunting for agents.
Yes, ten. I do not recommend you show your work to the town until you've written at least six. And because I know you'll
ignore me, I insist that you write at least three. If you cannot get to three you are not a storyteller. You are someone who
once had one idea for a movie. Someone who wanted to be a writer. You do not have a vocation.
2. Write Movies.
I see very few good scripts outside my two writing groups. Of those happy few I've found out in the world, almost none
of them are screenplays for movies. Of all the scripts I read in the last year, I can only think of one.
Write whatever you like. Enjoy yourself. Fine by me. Put your scripts up for critique from other writers. Learn. Rewrite.
Understand how to craft great stories. But if you are going to send your scripts out for consideration by Hollywood, write
movies.
If your screenplay doesn't remind you of any other movie you've ever seen, it's not a movie. When you give your script
to your friends and fellow writers for critique, ask them if they are reminded of other movies. No, I am not telling you to
copy existing movies. I am saying there are millions of stories out there, but only a certain number work as movies. Find
those stories. Write those stories.
A special note here: if your story reminds you of a movie or movies that bombed, don't bother sending it to Hollywood.
It doesn't matter if you've written a brilliant movie starring a man in a duck suit. All Hollywood knows is that they tried
it, and it didn't work. Nobody is thinking: "Someday, I dream to do that duck suit thing really, really well. I think
there's an Oscar there." Write scripts that remind you of successful movies.
Try to write the movies that don't need specific execution to work. Don't write the movie that "will work if...."
If you can get last year's Oscar-winning actor. If you can get that reclusive European director. If the budget is high enough.
Write the movie that is actor-proof, director-proof, and studio-proof. Write the movie that could work at a reasonable budget.
Write the movie with the obvious poster. Write the movie that audiences are waiting for.
3. Criticism.
We've poisoned a generation of writers. School used to be a place where you were told you were wrong when you made a mistake.
Today you're told "but that's a good answer, too!" Self-esteem has become more precious than accomplishment. Well,
sorry, but that's no way to become a writer. Not a good writer, at least.
The profession of screenwriting is the profession of receiving and dealing with criticism. Criticism comes at you from
all sides all the time. If your ego can't take that idea, write poetry. Just don't show it to anybody.
How do you get used to criticism? Put yourself in its path. UCLA's graduate program in screenwriting is a minimum two
years of constant critique. As you will probably not elect to go to graduate school, you must be in a writing group. Not the
kind of group with fifty members and guest speakers. Small groups where read-and-critique is the order of the day. See the
page about writing groups. I want you in a group every week. I'm in two. Nothing in the world, not writing itself, will help
you learn faster than a writing group. Because it's about more than getting notes. It's about giving notes. Nothing frees
your critical and creative mind more than developing and hearing notes you don't have to execute. Never underestimate the
power of Other People's Problems. They will free you from denial about your own. And nothing will grow the callus you will
need on your soul faster than hearing your own problems spelled out for you by a group of your peers.
Not many of you will learn to truly handle and respond to criticism. It's a challenge. First you have to get over the
hurt of being told your work isn't perfect, and then you have to tear your work apart and make it better. That's hard. You
never stop feeling it. What happens is that the time between criticism and constructive response gets shorter and shorter.
Eventually, you can respond almost instantly. Almost.
Do not surround yourself with yes-men, because there is no writer on the face of the planet who is perfect at judging
their own work. Think of your favorite movie. Is there anything in it that you would change? A bit of bad dialogue, an annoying
secondary character, a scene that feels a bit flabby? My point is that everything can be made better. That includes your scripts
and -gasp- even mine. The writer(s), director, producer, and editor of your favorite movie didn't catch those errors I just
had you think about. Why do you imagine that one person, you, can catch the problems in your work?
4. Be Patient.
If you have nothing else, have patience. Do not make yourself, everyone around you, and Hollywood crazy. Remember the
analogy to the psychic police force I mentioned above. No amount of energy, enthusiasm, or persistence would get any of those
would-be officers through that door if they could not hear the message.
I've known a lot of writers. Screenwriters, novelists, short story writers, poets, playwrights, you name it. To a one,
the farther they were from success, the more desperate they were to achieve it. Beginning novelists who haven't finished their
first books, whose writing is still rough, who do not take criticism well, are universally the most eager to find agents.
They don't want to talk about their P.O.V. problems. They don't want to talk about their characters. They want recommendations.
I'm not saying that the writers I know who are ready to make the transition to professional writing are not earnest in
seeking representation and getting their work read. They are, but they are not desperate.
Desperation is rampant in Hollywood. Writers are the least of it. For every one person trying to become a screenwriter,
there are easily two-dozen trying to become actors. The city is vibrating with wannabes.
I want you to step back from that. I want you to have some measure of peace. Trust yourself. Work hard on your writing.
Try to get your work read. Know the odds. Don't delude yourself if your work isn't ready. Don't live in fantasy. Make your
work ready. It's hard. When you and your work are ready, you will know it. You will feel it.
5. Learn Your Craft.
"Writing cannot be taught!" is the cry from the hills. Or at least from various and sundry experts. In the face
of step one mentioned above, you might think to find me in agreement. Narrowly defined to the basic ability to tell a dramatic
story, you're right. I am skeptical. But can writing be improved? You bet. Does screenwriting need to be learned? Absolutely.
There is no other form of dramatic writing that is as complex and artificial as screenwriting. Show an innocent civilian
a screenplay and they'll look at you like a dog worried by a high-pitched noise. They certainly won't want to read the thing.
I'm not really talking about format, because that's just the most obvious thing and you're going to buy software to handle
that. I'm talking about story structure. About crafting your story. About the reason that so many of you write scripts with
a page 90 that should be page 60, or even page 30. About the reason you keep writing passive, boring, unchanging characters.
Why you keep telling me about their inner thoughts. Why your dialogue is bad and your script filled with clichés. Why you
don't know your own themes.
You don't have to get an MFA in screenwriting from a top school. You don't have to sign up for every seminar and guru
plying his or her trade every weekend in hotel ballrooms all over Los Angeles. You don't have to travel to expensive conferences.
You do need to read. Read screenwriting books. Which ones? All of them. And read screenplays. All of them. Study films. Take
notes. Learn. Because until you know what you are doing, you don't know what you're doing.
6. Enter Contests.
You are preparing to go into competition against the best screenwriters in the world. Against people who have Academy
Awards (insert trademark squiggle here). Do you think you should first be able to beat amateur competition? I do.
There are people who say contests are a scam and a rip off and the judges wouldn't know a good script if it bit them in
the fundament. Well, read the piece about contests on this website. Some contests are scams. Doubtless there are unqualified,
idiotic, irresponsible, and weird readers out there. Why should they be different from anybody else? I have heard stories
of readers being fired for everything from dereliction of duty to corruption.
That said, if you choose your contests well and enter a half-dozen of them, and your script is good, you should have good
results. I'm not telling you you'll win, but you should make at least the first cut in half of the contests you enter, minimum.
If you enter six contests and do not make the first cut in any, you had better take a long hard look at that script.
Contests are not the be-all and end-all. But consider that the readers for the better contests are, well, readers. They
read screenplays and write coverage for a living. They know your competition not just in the contest, but in Hollywood. If
you can't get past them when all they have to do is give your script a thumbs up or thumbs down, why do you think you'll get
past them when they have to write full coverage on it?
7. Hire Consultants.
I am fortunate enough to have access to some very good writers and readers who give me notes on my writing. My agent gives
good notes. My two writing groups are filled with other UCLA MFAs, and one group is led by a UCLA screenwriting professor.
I can get hard-core, pull-no-punches notes. The kind of notes that can make me bleed out the ears.
You may be less fortunate. But one way or the other, your script needs to be seen by experienced readers before it goes
to Hollywood. If you've managed to win or place near the top in an important contest, you're probably okay-- several professional
readers read it and liked it.
Do not labor under the delusion that a consultant will be dazzled by your script, call the head of CAA and insist he represent
you. Script consultants are famous in the world of wannabe writers. They are not power players in Hollywood. Some of them
are so far out of the loop that the only people they can get on the phone are, well, each other. And they shouldn't be power
players, because that's not what they're there for. They are there to help you polish your script and help you decide when
it is ready to go to Hollywood.
No, you absolutely do not have to be a big successful screenwriter to give good notes and be a good consultant. You need
to have spent your life in the study of movies and storytelling. Do you think Hemingway ignored editor Maxwell Perkins because
Perkins wasn't a novelist? Think again. Have some respect for these people's profession.
Consultants can be researched fairly readily. What you really need is honesty and experience. Don't just pay for reputation.
The best deal out there now is Scott the Reader's offer to provide coverage for $60. Move fast, before he snaps out of it:
http://www.alligatorsinahelicopter.blogspot.com/
That's just for coverage. You'll find out from him what a studio reader would tell his bosses about your script. Full
consultants will charge more, but will provide you with story notes, suggesting changes for your script. You need it. We all
do.
8. Learn the Business.
This can be startlingly difficult, expensive, and, to many writers, dull. Learning the business does not mean faithfully
reading Entertainment Weekly. Turn off Inside Hollywood. You are going to try to learn all the stuff that hasn't been predigested
or wholly created by PR agents and marketing departments.
You are going to subscribe to The Hollywood Reporter and Daily Variety.
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com
http://www.variety.com
That will cost you a cool (and deductible) $500 a year. If you can only manage one, get the Hollywood Reporter. It digs
deeper into the business end. After a big awards show, their centerfold pictures will not be of starlets. They will be "Ms.
Head of Marketing at Studio X and Husband."
When I was at UCLA, I took as many units in producing as I did in screenwriting, because I was desperate to understand
the business. I was nearly alone in this. Not many people showed up for the special Saturday class, taught by the head legal
counsel for the Sundance Festival, on the formulas used to calculate DVD residuals.
I don't expect you to go that far. But I expect you to understand the basics. I want you to know what all those people
at the agencies and prodcos do all day. I want you to understand how they think. This will help your career and it will help
your writing. I want you focused on writing movies. Who has the final vote on what's a movie and what's not? They do. Study
them.
9. Try to Get Representation.
Let's say you are ready. You've written ten scripts. Rewritten ten scripts. Rewritten ten scripts again. You've done well
in some contests. Taken classes. Your writing group thinks you're ready. A script consultant thinks you're ready.
Now I want you to try to get an agent. Go read the section about agents, managers, and lawyers. Do all the research you
can. Do whatever you can to get a recommendation. Make a serious effort here. That doesn't mean you want to approach the giant
agencies. Pursue the mid-size and boutique agencies. Same with management companies.
The odds are, of course, against you. But if you are a good writer, if you have written a truly commercial script, and
you have conducted your search with skill and patience, I believe you should be able to find someone willing to work with
you. They may only ask to see another script or stay in touch. They may offer to represent you informally. Or you may succeed
and get signed. This is the time to try.
Don't go crazy. Don't send out five hundred Dear Agent letters. Again, patience. Don't treat your script and yourself
like a couple of widgets to be shilled to the general public. Focus your search. Remember, they can smell desperation.
10. Try to Interest Producers and Actors.
If you cannot find representation, reevaluate. Is the script as commercial as you think it is? Hollywood's definition
of commercial is so narrow you wouldn't believe it. It's not what they think might sell; it's what they think will sell.
If you are still confident in the script after the agents and managers have said no, you may decide to approach producers
and even actors directly. I do not actually advocate approaching actors without the guidance of an agent or manager, but I
include it because you will ask. The problem with approaching actors is one of the myriad Catch-22s in this business. If an
actor is powerful enough to open a movie, there is almost no chance that he or she will read an unrepresented script. Many
expect to have a deal on the table before they go to the trouble of reading. Lower-level actors may read, but they may also
harm your project more than help it. Even in the smallest indy, if an actor does not have sufficient value to a foreign presale
agent, that actor can kill any chance you have at foreign distribution. And you don't know who's worth what, do you? So don't
sign them.
Go read the business section of this site and do your other homework and try your luck with prodcos. Remember, you are
not just looking for a payday. You are looking to make friends and allies for the future. Be smart, polite, and patient.
11. Making it Yourself.
I have been holding your feet to the fire right, left, and center. Every word on this site should scream at you to be
careful, to be informed, to write smart. At times you've probably felt discouraged.
You should see what I do to people who want to make their movie themselves. Tell me that and I'll light your hair on fire
with a look. Because this is where credit ratings, friendships, marriages, families, businesses, and lives are ruined.
The 2005 Sundance Film Festival will show 120 feature films. Some of these arrive from studios and prodcos and already
have distribution in place, but the vast majority are submitted by independent filmmakers hoping to gain attention and distribution
for their projects. How many feature projects did the festival evaluate to come up with those lucky 120 entries?
3,148. Those are not screenplays. Those are completed feature films. 3,148 hopes, dreams, credit cards, family friends,
and investors on the line. More than three thousand dreams have died. More than three thousand filmmakers are now trying to
find a home for their project at some other festival. They are writing query letters not for a script that took some time
and a bit of paper. They are writing query letters for a project that cost thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars,
that suddenly nobody wants. They will end up with a garages filled with boxes of DVDs that they will try to sell on eBay.
Know what you are doing before you make your own movie. Do not spend money you could not afford to burn in your back yard.
Do not destroy your life. I've met successful independent filmmakers. I've met the people who sent their movie off to Sundance
and ended up with a $100 million hit. These people are not amateurs. They aren't dentists with dreams of glory. They live
and breathe filmmaking. They've crewed dozens of shoots. They've spent long nights over an Avid. They've worked their way
up. Many of them have gone to film school. Are you even reading the same magazines they read?
If you truly want to produce something, make a short. No, do not make a trailer of your script. Have you ever seen a good
trailer? No, you haven't. Nobody has. They suck even when made by professionals from completed mega-budget movies. Everyone
in town is geared reflexively for trailers to suck. Don't send them one.
Produce a clever, three to five minute short that can be easily put on the Internet. If you are very good and very lucky,
your short may become the talk of the web and everyone will notice. Download 405: The Movie. The two young men responsible
were signed by CAA when that became a hit. The point wasn't that the directing was so brilliant. It was that they were so
clever. Hollywood likes clever. They may not know when a script is good. They will know when they are laughing.
12. Keep Writing.
When a new writer has a stack of ten or six or three polished scripts and his thoughts lightly turn to thoughts of agents,
something rather startling tends to occur. He tends to stop writing.
Yes, he cries, "I am ready! Ready to focus on selling!" All fine and large, say I, but you are not an agent.
You are a writer. Do not turn into a marketing machine.
I met a writer at a conference years ago who pressed into my hand a color one sheet for his screenplay. Ten points for
enthusiasm. After the conference he had my email, and I joined a list of hundreds of other worthies regularly updated on the
fate of this script. Every small contest placement, every read, and along came another bulletin from the front. He must have
approached thousands of people trying to find a home for that script. It was his full-time obsession. I, meanwhile, continued
noodling away in graduate school, writing script after script, as our friend writer kept rolling his one script uphill.
Our poor writer friend fixated on that script. Year after year, just the one. No news of new scripts. No new writing,
other than the monthly Christmas letters. This writer had turned into a producer. It happens. Writing is a way to get into
the producing or directing business. If you want to go that way, fine, but don't fall into it by accident, like my correspondent.
He may well succeed and see his movie made. But he's not going to be a screenwriter. He's written, so far as I know, one script
in seven years.
13. Know When to Say When.
I tricked you. Twelve step programs rarely contain a thirteenth (if they did, that step would probably be about coffee).
In our program, the thirteenth step is the giant step back.
You're going to have to abandon a lot of what you write. Bad scenes, stupid titles, loathsome log lines from here to eternity.
And screenplays. All my scripts have been terrific. Clever, well-written, just what Hollywood was looking for.
The day I finished them.
Before I reread them.
I want you to know and accept that you are going to write a lot of scripts that will never find a home. You have to. That's
how you learn. So be prepared to stick those scripts up on the shelf and move on to the next. Even if you feel in your heart
of hearts that they're good. Perhaps if you succeed one day Hollywood will see the error of its ways and scoop up a few of
your earlier scripts. But if Hollywood is not interested today, those scripts need to be set aside.
And now, the reason I stuck this all the way down at mythic step thirteen: you may have to stop altogether. You may have
to stop screenwriting.
I mention a terrific piece over on Terry Rossio and Ted Elliott's site, Wordplay (http://www.wordplayer.com/). In their
Columns section, #34 is called Throwing in the Towel. It's a wonderful piece, and rather bracing in its candor.
I don't want to slap you around. I've done plenty of that. But I don't want you to ruin your life. Screenwriting is a
painful endeavor. Your scripts will bring pleasure to no one unless they turn into movies. You will spend a great deal of
time writing scripts that even your nearest and dearest won't want to read. You could have spent that time writing novels
and short stories. Something with value to any reader. Finished products, not blueprints.
If all you find is frustration, walking away might be the only sane choice. If you never get farther than small options
or agents in Plano or Dubuque or wherever, you can stop. Or at least take a break. Put it away for a month or a year. Get
some perspective.
In the end, screenwriting probably won't work for any of us. The safest bet in town is that none of us will ever see one
word we write on any screen of any size.
For these defects we are lost,
Though spared the fire.
And suffering Hell in one affliction only,
That without hope,
We live on in desire.
-Dante, The Divine Comedy.
Now go through the door on your left.
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