Posts
On-the-Nose Dialogue
In other words, don’t tell us exactly what the characters think or feel. For instance:
JOANNE: I don’t love you anymore.
ROGER: Why, Joanne, what are you saying?
JOANNE: I want out of this marriage. I’ll call a divorce lawyer first thing tomorrow. I suggest you move out.
ROGER: I’ll move out first thing in the morning.
You could rewrite that as:
JOANNE: It’s not working, is it?
ROGER: Not for lack of trying. People change, I suppose. I just never thought we would.(a moment) I’ll stay somewhere...until we get things worked out.
JOANNE (a smile): You were always the considerate one.
And here’s another one:
Jane, Frank, and Ken react sadly to the death of their friend Josephine. Frank sobs like a baby.
JANE: This is awful.
FRANK: She’s gone.
KEN: I’m so sorry for your loss. It’s so sad she got on the wrong side of the law. She had so much potential.
Frank grabs a bottle of vodka and drinks.
KEN: Take it easy on the booze, friend.
FRANK: It’s no use. Without Josephine, there’s no living.
JANE: Look, I know it’s bad. If you can’t take it, please get help. Don’t do anything crazy.
Ouch. If that’s not on the nose, then what is? (And no, it wasn’t from a comedic script.) Find ways of imparting information without nailing it on the head (i.e., subtext). Again, it’s perfectly OK to be a little vague, a little mysterious, and keep the reader/audience guessing a bit. So, you could rewrite the above as:
KEN: I’m sorry, Frankie. Sorry for the mistakes she made. Sorry for what she’s putting you through now.
Frank reaches for a bottle of vodka.
KEN: That’ll only make it worse.
FRANK: Without her, how will I --
KEN: You will. Jane and I will help. I promise you that. Just no crazy stuff...okay?
Robotic Dialogue
For example:
JOHN: I do not think I want to go to the theater tonight.
MARY: Why do you not want to go to the theater?
JOHN: I just do not want to go.
MARY: So I have to go alone?
JOHN: You can take your sister. You said you have been wanting to take her.
MARY: Yes, maybe you are right. Maybe I will call her.
People just don’t talk in this stilted, robotic manner. When appropriate (which is most of the time), it’s okay to use a contraction. So, instead of…
"Do not," use "don’t."
"Is not," use "isn’t."
"You have been," use "you’ve been."
"You are," use "you’re."
With this in mind, here’s how I might rewrite the above exchange:
JOHN: I don’t think I’ll go to the theater tonight.
MARY: Why not?
JOHN: I just don’t want to go.
MARY: I have to go alone?
JOHN: Take your sister. You’ve always wanted to take her.
MARY: Yeah, maybe I’ll call her.
Show, Don’t Tell
I’ll often read descriptive passages like this:
Tom and Frank walk down the street together. They are best friends. Frank was also married to Tom’s sister at one time. Right now Tom and Frank are angry with each other.
OK, so how do we film all this? WE CAN’T! This is all stuff you might read in a novel. It doesn’t belong in a screenplay. If Tom and Frank are best pals, show us by their playful brotherly antics. If Frank was married to Tom’s sister once upon a time, then that’s something you can impart via a brief bit of dialogue, or (in another scene) a wedding photo of Frank and Tom’s sister. If Tom and Frank are pissed off with each other, then that’s something you can show with some angry looks and brusque dialogue. Or, for another example:
Sidney sits alone at the counter, eating oatmeal. He is anxious –- a disorder stemming from an abusive childhood.
As written, the anxiety disorder portion of this description is something we can’t film. If we can’t film it, the audience won’t know about it. You could impart this information by showing Sidney wringing his hands, or sweating profusely when he’s in a crowd of people. Then you could have a bit of dialogue later when he talks about hating his father for what he did. You don’t have to nail it on the head with dialogue like, “I hate my dad for molesting me.” No, just a few choice words that clue us in that something went terribly wrong in Sidney ’s childhood. The reader/audience will be able to connect the dots. So…if we can’t SEE or HEAR it, don’t write it!
In Late, Out Early
Most novice screenwriters have a tendency to write fatty script. By this I mean scripts that contain action and/or dialogue that do nothing (or very little) to progress the story.
Let’s say you have a dramatic story about a middle-aged married couple—Tim and Arlene—and they’re on the verge of divorce. They go out to dinner to discuss their marriage and what can be done, if anything, to save it. Here’s one “fatty” way the scene could be written:
INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT
Tim and Arlene enter, step over to the HOST.
TIM: Two for dinner, please.
HOST: Certainly, sir. If you’ll just follow me...
They follow the Host through the restaurant and to a table in a quiet corner.
HOST: Here you are. Your waiter will be right with you.
TIM: Thanks so much.
The Host moves off. Time and Arlene get comfortable at the table.
TIM: You always liked this place.
ARLENE: Yes. They make a fabulous Greek salad.
The smiling WAITER steps up.
WAITER: Good evening. I’m Paul. I’ll be your waiter this evening. Can I start you off with a cocktail?
ARLENE: I’ll have a white wine, please.
TIM: Make it two.
WAITER: Certainly. Thank you.
The Waiter moves off. Tim and Arlene look about the restaurant, doing whatever necessary to avoid each other’s eyes. Then finally...
TIM: Arlene...
She looks at him.
TIM: Remember when we first met...and how you laughed at every little thing I said and did?
ARLENE: You were always so funny.
TIM: I haven’t heard you laugh in a long, long time.
ARLENE: Life becomes so much more serious the older you get. Sometimes, laughter is a luxury.
Tim looks at her a long moment, then...
TIM: It’s over, sweetheart. We both know it. We just haven’t wanted to admit it.
The Waiter returns with two glasses of wine, sets them down.
WAITER: Have you decided?
TIM: What’s on the specials board tonight?
WAITER: Tonight we have the red snapper with cream of broccoli soup. We also have the pasta primavera. Both are quite excellent.
TIM: Thanks. (to Arlene) Honey...
ARLENE: I’ll have the Greek salad.
WAITER: Excellent choice. For you, sir?
TIM: The primavera sounds great.
WAITER: Very good. Thank you, sir.
The Waiter moves off. Tim and Arlene turn their attention back to each other.
TIM: You can have everything.
ARLENE: Tim –-
TIM: Please, Arlene. You deserve it. I want you to be happy and secure.
ARLENE: Tim, you know I make good money. I really don’t think –-
TIM: No, Arlene, please. I want it this way. You’ve given me fifteen glorious years.
Arlene looks deep into his eyes, lovingly.
ARLENE: It has been glorious, hasn’t it?
OK, so that’s your scene. A good portion of it is unnecessary and can easily be cut. After all, do we really need to see Tim and Arlene enter the restaurant, chat with the host, walk through the restaurant, be seated at their table? ABSOLUTELY NOT! Why? Because none of that stuff does anything to progress the story. Here’s one way you could trim that scene:
INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT
Tim and Arlene are seated in a cozy corner booth, both doing whatever necessary to avoid each other’s eyes. The smiling WAITER steps up.
WAITER: I’m Paul. I’ll be your waiter this evening. Can I start you off with a cocktail?
ARLENE: I’ll have a white wine, please.
TIM: Make it two.
WAITER: Certainly. Thank you.
The Waiter moves off. Then finally...
TIM: Arlene...
She looks at him.
TIM: Remember when we first met...and how you laughed at every little thing I said and did?
ARLENE: You were always so funny.
TIM: I haven’t heard you laugh in a long, long time.
ARLENE: Life becomes so much more serious the older you get. Sometimes, laughter is a luxury.
Tim looks at her a long moment, then...
TIM: It’s over, sweetheart. We both know it. We just haven’t wanted to admit it.
A poignant moment between them. Then...
TIM: I want you to have everything.
ARLENE: Tim –-
TIM: Please, Arlene. You deserve it. I want you to be happy and secure.
ARLENE: I make good money. I really don’t think –-
TIM: Arlene, please. I want it this way. You’ve given me fifteen glorious years.
Arlene looks deep into his eyes, lovingly.
ARLENE: It has been glorious, hasn’t it?
The Waiter returns with two glasses of wine, sets them down.
WAITER: Have you decided?
Tim looks up at the Waiter, manages a thin, rather sad smile.
TIM: No, I don’t think we’ll be staying.
OK, so it’s not Casablanca —but you get my point, don’t you? Trim your scenes; keep only what’s absolutely necessary to forward the plot, story, motivations, etc.
Characters Sound the Same
Always remember who your characters are. Think of their ages and their backgrounds. Some young dude who grew up in the projects and sells crack, more than likely won’t speak the way a middle-aged Manhattan attorney speaks. For instance:
Fred, a 60-ish lawyer, emerges from his Mercedes Benz. A Mugger jumps him, shoves a knife in his face.
MUGGER: Awright, you $%#^$%#, gimme da money!
LAWYER: Yo, dude, is this a stick up?
MUGGER: Shut yer &$^%#$$ lips and gimme da %&$%#$^& money, man! And gimme that shiny watch too!
LAWYER: Man, this just ain’t right! My momma gave me that watch!
...or the reverse can also be applicable:
MUGGER: Pardon me, but would you mind handing over your wallet?
LAWYER: Oh, would this be a stick up?
MUGGER: Why yes, it is. Do forgive the intrusion. And oh, can I have your watch, too, please?
Or in this scene:
MOMMY puts her SON in his tiny bed with the SpongeBob sheets.
MOMMY: Now dear, I want you to be a good little boy and do what your babysitter tells you.
SON: But Mother, I don’t understand why you must always leave me alone with that woman. She smells just awful!
…or this:
In a courtroom as the Judge admonishes the Suspect.
JUDGE: Look, bub, keep yer trap shut. I’m the Judge ‘round here, see? I make the rules, see? Do what I say or I’ll stick your %#$&#% rear end in a cell for a thousand years!
Again, always remember what type of character you’re writing for…and give them an appropriate voice.
Superfluous Description
Can YOU spot the superfluous description?
Fred takes a seat in a purple chair. He glances at his moderately expensive watch, notes the time. He pulls a large, black comb from his right-side pocket and combs his reddish-gray hair.
Unless it’s pertinent to the storyline, we don’t care what color the chair is, we don’t care how much his watch costs, we don’t care about the size or color of his comb, we don’t care which pocket he pulls it from, and we couldn’t give a rat’s rear end what color his hair is.
Lazy/Dull Description
INT. BAR – NIGHT
It looks like a typical bar...
What does “typical” mean? Is it an upscale bar, like one you’d find in Beverly Hills ? A sleazy bar you’d find down by the docks?
INT. MANSION – DAY
It looks like the house from the TV show Dynasty.
Ugh. Please don’t reference other movies or old TV shows. I’m not saying give us an entire page of description, but give us the essence of the setting—a thumbnail image of what your specific location looks like.
Repetitive Description/Action
A while back I read a script where the main aspect of character description was the verb smiling. Yup, there was quite a lot of smiling goin’ on. He smiled. She smiled. They smiled. They were all smiling. Smile, smile, smile. I’m serious. Virtually every page of the script had at least one instance of someone smiling. There were some pages where you could find six or eight variations of “smile”! So I told the writer, “You need to find other ways to convey characters’ feelings/emotions.” A few months later I did another critique for this writer, a different script, and this was the predominant descriptive term:
He frowned. She frowned. They frowned. They were all frowning. Frown frown frown.
ARRGH!!
Q & A: THE WORKING SCREENWRITER: THE BOOK!
Q & A: The Working Screenwriter provides an in-the-trenches perspective from 16 screenwriters who broke the barriers, overcame the odds, and gained entry to the amazing, often exasperating, yet always exciting world of writing for the movies.
Join Brent Maddock (Tremors), John Rogers (The Core), David J. Schow (The Crow), Neal Marshall Stevens (Thirteen Ghosts), Stephen Susco (The Grudge I and 2), Katherine Fugate (The Prince and Me) and 10 other talented wordsmiths as they give first-hand insight into why they write, what keeps them motivated, how they got their scripts written—and ultimately optioned and/or sold. These writers impart a wealth of real-world experience that will truly inspire and encourage any budding screenwriter and help position them firmly on the road to becoming a working screenwriter.
If you want to stir your creative juices, bolster your confidence, and gain a better understanding of what it takes to become a working screenwriter in today’s film industry, you’ll find Q & A: The Working Screenwriter essential reading.
"When I began my own writing career, it was a book of interviews that inspired me the most." – David Trottier, from his foreword
PANEL OF SCREENWRITERS
Rebekah Bradford (Mafia Doctor, "Spawn")
Allison Burnett (Resurrecting the Champ, Autumn in New York , Red Meat, Perfect Romance)
Mylo Carbia (Statute of Limitations, Totally Lipstick)
Glen Gregory Doyle (Cold Vengeance, The Circuit)
Katherine Fugate (The Prince and Me, Carolina, "Army Wives")
Rolfe Kanefsky (There’s Nothing Out There, Tomorrow By Midnight, Shattered Lies, Pretty Cool, Corpses, Rod Steele 0014, Jacqueline Hyde, The Hazing)
Steve Latshaw (Invisible Dad, Crash Point Zero, Seals: Dead or Alive)
Bill Lundy (Alien Blood, Silent Warnings)
Brent Maddock (Batteries Not Included, Tremors, The Wild Wild West)
Ben Morris (Phat Beach)
John Rogers (Rush Hour 3, Catwoman, The Core, American Outlaws)
George Saunders (Her Perfect Spouse, Blind Obsession, The Landlady, Perfect Target, Intimate Deception, Vendetta, Blindside)
David J. Schow (The Crow, Leatherface: Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3)
Neal Marshall Stevens (Thirteen Ghosts, Hellraiser: Deader)
Stephen Susco (The Grudge, The Grudge 2)
EXCERPTS FROM Q & A: THE WORKING SCREENWRITER(ISBN 10: 1425968465 / 236 pages / $14.95)
Why a screenwriter…
Katherine Fugate: "You either have a burning desire to tell stories that move other people or you don't. My father often asks in wonder how I can write 10 pages much less 120. I ask in wonder how he knows how to put a television together. It’s who I am."
Outlining…
Brent Maddock: "The single biggest mistake beginning screenwriters seem to make is to start writing the script before they should. What good is a beautifully crafted scene, great dialogue, nice visuals if you discover you don’t need it? Draw up the blueprints, then build the building."
Being rewritten…
Rebekah Bradford: "Rewriting is a very delicate subject among writers. It’s like having another artist come in and repaint your painting because someone thought you used the wrong colors, or the wrong canvas, or the wrong subject for your piece."
Allison Burnett: "I have had many movies inches from production and then at the last minute some executive decides it ‘needs something.’ So he hires another writer to do a three-week polish. Six months later, the new writer hands in crap. They panic and give him another chance. Six months later, it’s still crap and the movie has lost all its momentum and dies. I don’t mind being rewritten at all, I just want to be rewritten well."
Brent Maddock: "Steve [Wilson] and I wrote The Wild, Wild West. The difference between our script and the sad, muddled, rewritten thing they actually shot tells you all you need to know about why the studio system is so dysfunctional."
Research…
David J. Schow: "You have to know what you're talking about, or at least be able to fake it like a pro."
Procrastination…
Katherine Fugate: "I imagine writing a check to pay back the producers or studio that hired me to write the movie. The thought of giving them their money back and saying, "I can't do it," usually scares the hell out of me so much it gets me back into my chair."
Doubting your own ability as a writer…
George Saunders: "There are innumerable ways for a writer to get gored in Hollywood ; probably actors and directors, too, but they get the real pretty girls. Writers end up with Door Number 3 and the ten cans of octopus food."
Why most first-time writers overwrite their scripts…
Rolfe Kanefsky: "The big thing to keep in mind is that a screenplay is not a novel. You don’t need to make complete sentences. It’s about getting an attitude and visual mood across. Not writing poetry. You don’t need to write five paragraphs to describe what a person looks like or what he or she is wearing.
On breaking the "screenwriting rules"…
Rolfe Kanefsky: "Picasso painted in the classical sense before he started adding three eyes and two noses to his painting. He mastered the traditions and then branched off. It’s the same with filmmaking. Learn how to put a camera on a tripod before you start to artistically hand-hold everything. I think the same goes for writing."
Receiving notes from development executives…
Katherine Fugate: "Everyone has notes and everyone feels compelled to share them. You have to learn how to accept them and keep an open mind; because sometimes something is said from the most unlikely of places that can trigger something else and there you go with a new idea."
Overwriting a script…
David J. Schow: "The arc of a script from first to final draft is all about condensation and concision, and the more scripts you write, the more you learn to express things visually instead of verbally, which is why they are called "motion" pictures in the first place."
A "submission" screenplay: An entertaining page-turner or a blueprint?
Neal Marshall Stevens: I've never bought into this 'blueprint' notion. When you write a screenplay, what you are trying to do at every stage within the limitations of a hundred or so pages, is to make people see the movie. Far from a blueprint, it's much closer to those architectural paintings they produce where they show the finished building in its natural environment, with the cityscape around it, and people and trees. That's what you want to create. That's what you want readers to get a sense of—not bare lines on a piece of paper, but that sense of a finished building as it will actually be when it's completed. That's what you want the reader to get a sense of—what the finished movie will be like up on the screen. Because if they don't see that, they won't buy your script.
Knowing your ending…
John Rogers: "I always know what the thematic end of the story is. What physical events occur within the script to get us there? Well, those can shift around depending on what you’ve discovered about the rhythm of the script or the characters along the way. But I always know how it ends emotionally, how the characters need to wind up."
Age limitations (too young or too old) for finding success as a screenwriter…
Allison Burnett: "In TV, yes. It’s a young person’s business and medium. When it comes to screenwriting, no. If an agent, producer, or executive loves a script and thinks it can make money, he doesn’t care if it was written by a toddler, a grandfather, or a moose."
David J. Schow: "One of the great myths that leads people to believe that anybody can undertake this sort of job is the idea that all someone has to do is "write a great screenplay," and the bitch goddess of Hollywood will flop on her back and spread her legs for you. That sort of thing hasn't happened since the 1940s..."
The importance of developing relationships in the film industry…
Mylo Carbia: "I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched a producer with a stack of scripts on his desk read the one that was just hand delivered to him because someone he knows asked him to read it. I mean, L.A. waiters with connections get read more often than screenwriting scholars who mail their stuff in from somewhere else."
Pitching your scripts…
Steve Latshaw: "I went into a company with a director a few years back to pitch an adventure movie. The exec turned it down and said ‘what else do you guys have?’ I immediately pitched a spec action script I had about domestic right-wing terrorists. That was on a Friday. On the following Tuesday I was signing a contract for that same script. Be prepared."
When a writer knows he’s ready to seek representation…
Steven Susco: "It’s show business, not tell business—you can talk until you’re blue in the face about how you’re a wonderful writer. But if people don’t have anything to read, it’s not going to go anywhere."
To pick up YOUR copy of Q & A: The Working Screenwriter, please visit these fine book outlets:
Amazon.com
Barnes & Noble
Vroman's Bookstore
The Writers Store
If you’d like a personally inscribed (gosh!) copy of the book snail-mailed to you ASAP, just let me know (via e-mail: TheWorkingScreenwriter(at)yahoo.com).
Price: $20.00 (postage/shipping included, USA/Canada orders only).
Join Brent Maddock (Tremors), John Rogers (The Core), David J. Schow (The Crow), Neal Marshall Stevens (Thirteen Ghosts), Stephen Susco (The Grudge I and 2), Katherine Fugate (The Prince and Me) and 10 other talented wordsmiths as they give first-hand insight into why they write, what keeps them motivated, how they got their scripts written—and ultimately optioned and/or sold. These writers impart a wealth of real-world experience that will truly inspire and encourage any budding screenwriter and help position them firmly on the road to becoming a working screenwriter.
If you want to stir your creative juices, bolster your confidence, and gain a better understanding of what it takes to become a working screenwriter in today’s film industry, you’ll find Q & A: The Working Screenwriter essential reading.
"When I began my own writing career, it was a book of interviews that inspired me the most." – David Trottier, from his foreword
PANEL OF SCREENWRITERS
Rebekah Bradford (Mafia Doctor, "Spawn")
Allison Burnett (Resurrecting the Champ, Autumn in New York , Red Meat, Perfect Romance)
Mylo Carbia (Statute of Limitations, Totally Lipstick)
Glen Gregory Doyle (Cold Vengeance, The Circuit)
Katherine Fugate (The Prince and Me, Carolina, "Army Wives")
Rolfe Kanefsky (There’s Nothing Out There, Tomorrow By Midnight, Shattered Lies, Pretty Cool, Corpses, Rod Steele 0014, Jacqueline Hyde, The Hazing)
Steve Latshaw (Invisible Dad, Crash Point Zero, Seals: Dead or Alive)
Bill Lundy (Alien Blood, Silent Warnings)
Brent Maddock (Batteries Not Included, Tremors, The Wild Wild West)
Ben Morris (Phat Beach)
John Rogers (Rush Hour 3, Catwoman, The Core, American Outlaws)
George Saunders (Her Perfect Spouse, Blind Obsession, The Landlady, Perfect Target, Intimate Deception, Vendetta, Blindside)
David J. Schow (The Crow, Leatherface: Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3)
Neal Marshall Stevens (Thirteen Ghosts, Hellraiser: Deader)
Stephen Susco (The Grudge, The Grudge 2)
EXCERPTS FROM Q & A: THE WORKING SCREENWRITER(ISBN 10: 1425968465 / 236 pages / $14.95)
Why a screenwriter…
Katherine Fugate: "You either have a burning desire to tell stories that move other people or you don't. My father often asks in wonder how I can write 10 pages much less 120. I ask in wonder how he knows how to put a television together. It’s who I am."
Outlining…
Brent Maddock: "The single biggest mistake beginning screenwriters seem to make is to start writing the script before they should. What good is a beautifully crafted scene, great dialogue, nice visuals if you discover you don’t need it? Draw up the blueprints, then build the building."
Being rewritten…
Rebekah Bradford: "Rewriting is a very delicate subject among writers. It’s like having another artist come in and repaint your painting because someone thought you used the wrong colors, or the wrong canvas, or the wrong subject for your piece."
Allison Burnett: "I have had many movies inches from production and then at the last minute some executive decides it ‘needs something.’ So he hires another writer to do a three-week polish. Six months later, the new writer hands in crap. They panic and give him another chance. Six months later, it’s still crap and the movie has lost all its momentum and dies. I don’t mind being rewritten at all, I just want to be rewritten well."
Brent Maddock: "Steve [Wilson] and I wrote The Wild, Wild West. The difference between our script and the sad, muddled, rewritten thing they actually shot tells you all you need to know about why the studio system is so dysfunctional."
Research…
David J. Schow: "You have to know what you're talking about, or at least be able to fake it like a pro."
Procrastination…
Katherine Fugate: "I imagine writing a check to pay back the producers or studio that hired me to write the movie. The thought of giving them their money back and saying, "I can't do it," usually scares the hell out of me so much it gets me back into my chair."
Doubting your own ability as a writer…
George Saunders: "There are innumerable ways for a writer to get gored in Hollywood ; probably actors and directors, too, but they get the real pretty girls. Writers end up with Door Number 3 and the ten cans of octopus food."
Why most first-time writers overwrite their scripts…
Rolfe Kanefsky: "The big thing to keep in mind is that a screenplay is not a novel. You don’t need to make complete sentences. It’s about getting an attitude and visual mood across. Not writing poetry. You don’t need to write five paragraphs to describe what a person looks like or what he or she is wearing.
On breaking the "screenwriting rules"…
Rolfe Kanefsky: "Picasso painted in the classical sense before he started adding three eyes and two noses to his painting. He mastered the traditions and then branched off. It’s the same with filmmaking. Learn how to put a camera on a tripod before you start to artistically hand-hold everything. I think the same goes for writing."
Receiving notes from development executives…
Katherine Fugate: "Everyone has notes and everyone feels compelled to share them. You have to learn how to accept them and keep an open mind; because sometimes something is said from the most unlikely of places that can trigger something else and there you go with a new idea."
Overwriting a script…
David J. Schow: "The arc of a script from first to final draft is all about condensation and concision, and the more scripts you write, the more you learn to express things visually instead of verbally, which is why they are called "motion" pictures in the first place."
A "submission" screenplay: An entertaining page-turner or a blueprint?
Neal Marshall Stevens: I've never bought into this 'blueprint' notion. When you write a screenplay, what you are trying to do at every stage within the limitations of a hundred or so pages, is to make people see the movie. Far from a blueprint, it's much closer to those architectural paintings they produce where they show the finished building in its natural environment, with the cityscape around it, and people and trees. That's what you want to create. That's what you want readers to get a sense of—not bare lines on a piece of paper, but that sense of a finished building as it will actually be when it's completed. That's what you want the reader to get a sense of—what the finished movie will be like up on the screen. Because if they don't see that, they won't buy your script.
Knowing your ending…
John Rogers: "I always know what the thematic end of the story is. What physical events occur within the script to get us there? Well, those can shift around depending on what you’ve discovered about the rhythm of the script or the characters along the way. But I always know how it ends emotionally, how the characters need to wind up."
Age limitations (too young or too old) for finding success as a screenwriter…
Allison Burnett: "In TV, yes. It’s a young person’s business and medium. When it comes to screenwriting, no. If an agent, producer, or executive loves a script and thinks it can make money, he doesn’t care if it was written by a toddler, a grandfather, or a moose."
David J. Schow: "One of the great myths that leads people to believe that anybody can undertake this sort of job is the idea that all someone has to do is "write a great screenplay," and the bitch goddess of Hollywood will flop on her back and spread her legs for you. That sort of thing hasn't happened since the 1940s..."
The importance of developing relationships in the film industry…
Mylo Carbia: "I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched a producer with a stack of scripts on his desk read the one that was just hand delivered to him because someone he knows asked him to read it. I mean, L.A. waiters with connections get read more often than screenwriting scholars who mail their stuff in from somewhere else."
Pitching your scripts…
Steve Latshaw: "I went into a company with a director a few years back to pitch an adventure movie. The exec turned it down and said ‘what else do you guys have?’ I immediately pitched a spec action script I had about domestic right-wing terrorists. That was on a Friday. On the following Tuesday I was signing a contract for that same script. Be prepared."
When a writer knows he’s ready to seek representation…
Steven Susco: "It’s show business, not tell business—you can talk until you’re blue in the face about how you’re a wonderful writer. But if people don’t have anything to read, it’s not going to go anywhere."
To pick up YOUR copy of Q & A: The Working Screenwriter, please visit these fine book outlets:
Amazon.com
Barnes & Noble
Vroman's Bookstore
The Writers Store
If you’d like a personally inscribed (gosh!) copy of the book snail-mailed to you ASAP, just let me know (via e-mail: TheWorkingScreenwriter(at)yahoo.com).
Price: $20.00 (postage/shipping included, USA/Canada orders only).
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