Film Utopia

Sunday Blog: Your Scripts are Your Real Estate; They Do Have Value

photo by fhartha

I treat every screenplay like it is a piece of real estate. It has value in terms of my growth as a writer, as an original concept and as a developed set of characters. It is an investment.

If I was ever invited to speak on a screenwriting panel, which seems unlikely, this would be the main thing I'd want to tell people.

One of the problems screenwriters seem to face is loss of heart. A loss of self belief which happens simply because writers start to see the cycle of writing and rejection as endless and the possibility of creating a home in the industry as improbable. A process that leads many screenwriters to quit to do other things, and others go off the rails. A good example of which would be the screenwriting in America who recently tried to sue two major agencies for prejudice. 

By the time a screenwriter has written five or six screenplays he has, in all probability, faced the following: being rejected by many producers; being ignored by many more producers; being rejected by many agents; being ignored by many more agents; being rejected by many screenwriting competitions/fellowships/foundations; either being ripped off by a bogus agent/producer, or coming close to being ripped off; being rejected by the talentless, overpaid hacks at their local film board, many, many times... 

... basically, a lot of rejection. Far too much rejection for regular people to cope with or understand.

All this time, despite all the perceived negativity, this period of "failure" is precisely when a writer is building a body of work, their five or six scripts. Scripts that are sitting on their hard-drive, because they remain unsold. Scripts, many writers consider to be worthless because, after all, they failed when touted around the market. In fact, many writers develop a mentality where it is only their next script that is important. And, in the process, they tend to forget about the work they have already done. They see their back catalogue of work as either wasted time, or merely as part of the learning process. They don't understand the true value of what they have done... or, often, why they have failed to sell these projects. They tend see their old scripts and time spent working on them as dead and beyond redemption. And, seeing that time as wasted and those projects as dead is definitely disheartening.

Personally, I know that abandoning your past projects is mistake... because, whilst it is true that earlier scripts may have been rejected because they weren't good enough, work was still been done on them. Ideas were formed and characters were developed. Regardless of how those scripts were received at the time, there can still be value in them for several reasons:

1) Sometimes scripts get rejected because the person who you sent it to was wrong in their beliefs.

Eight years ago I created a screenplay idea, as my application for a screenwriting fellowship. Both my idea and my application for the fellowship were rejected because, and I quote, "Nobody is interested in making anything related to this subject anymore, it's passe. We're only taking on projects capable of commercial success." Of course, shortly after that a Hollywood director created a monstrous blockbuster with his movie on this very topic, and more recently another writer has created a very successful TV show whose premise is almost identical to my original idea. Obviously, the guy who rejected my idea was very, very wrong about the lack commercial success. 

Of course, at the time, pretty much everyone in the business believed the same as the guy who rejected my idea as passe. Sometimes, even when we're right about something, the timing isn't right for the part of the industry we have access to. Regardless of whether we're are able to resurrect the project or not, the fact that our instincts were good is of value. And, sometimes the rejection of an early version of an idea, leads to a better interpretation of best parts of the concept. Or, in other words... sometimes a project needs an early rejection to force the rewrites down the right path. Although I couldn't see it at the time, that particular rejection was the best thing that could have happened. But, only because I kept on rewriting and reevaluating why I was drawn to that particular project. In that script, it was the back story of a minor character I was drawn to. A minor character who I then chose to be my new protagonist. This in turn lead to the concept, which has proven to be my break-through project.

2) Sometimes the new project is only the key to the door and not the sale itself

Just over a month ago, the big TV project I've been working on for the last year was knocked back by a major UK TV company. However, what the rejection said was "We love this, it's a great a idea, but it just doesn't fit in with the kind of drama we're making at the moment, which is drama like this (after which he named three well known TV series)." 

Once a screenwriter gets to the point where they are competent, this is the most common cause of rejection... this is the wrong idea for this company. However, because I have existing scripts sitting on my hard-drive, I did have a project that fitted this company's profile, perfectly. So, instead of slinking off into the night, with my tail between my legs, I was able to immediately offer them that project. They're reading it right now. Sometimes a rejection is really a request to see what else you've got for them... and that's when your real estate scripts become paramount. 

Now, what's really interesting, is that I probably couldn't have got the second project read, at this level, if it had been the first one through the door. My main project has a lot of attached talent and is getting a lot of heat in the TV industry, internationally. That's what got that one in through the door. Even though, the script they are reading now is a much better fit for their needs.

Now, and this is the key point... the breakthrough moment for a screenwriter happens when they suddenly develop credibility. What's strange about this, is it's almost impossible to predict the tipping point. The moment you go from struggling, to being welcomed in with open arms. I know it took me by surprise, when the shift happened. However, the real question, at that point, isn't so much whether you're worth reading, but is whether you have anything else to read. A writer with only one project may fail to capitalise on that breakthrough moment, simply because their new project either isn't a fit, or the timing is wrong. A writer with a slate of projects is more secure, because once they are through the door, they're not trying to survive on one project, they have their slate to fall back on. And, on top of that, the slate of concepts demonstrates that the writer is creative... they have more than one idea. Even if they don't have anything that is perfect, they're still worth talking to. Multiple ideas keep doors open. SIngle ideas, don't.

3) It's not a movie, it's a TV series... or visa versa

Sometimes we start with an idea and through force of habit we create a script in the medium we are most comfortable or knowledgeable about. So, writers who are interested in movies tend to see their ideas in terms of movie scripts. TV writers tend to see their ideas in terms of TV.  Sometimes, regardless of how good a TV series something may make in an ideal world, it's primary market may really be as a low budget movie. Sometimes we have to take a step back and look at the doors offered to us. We have to see what may fit through that door, rather than hoping that if we write something brilliant it will find the right desk. I happen to believe that 80% of the movie scripts currently being written by unknowns would be better off rewritten as novels, graphic novels or web-series. Simply because the spec movie script market is the meanest, hardest, most soul destroying, shark-riddled market in the world. 

Of the six film scripts I've written and developed over the past eight years, FIVE OF THEM are now getting interest from major TV companies, both in the UK and in America. And, ironically, ever since the TV interest started, some film companies are now talking  to me, as well... go figure.

So, what does this all mean?

Well, I think the lesson to be learned from all this, is that even when we can't get a script away at the time, we developed the idea and the characters for a reason. Even if we've moved on in terms of skill level, even if those scripts look rough to us in comparison with what we're doing now, it's massively important to go back to them and to look at what potential they still have. Do they need a rewrite, based on what we now know as writers. How do they look as real estate? Is the idea a good one, but is it just poorly executed? Is the idea actually pretty poor or cliched, but the characters are splendid? If so, what other scenarios could they be put into? And, finally, is the idea I am working on going to find a home in the industry I am targeting? Does it really fit better somewhere else?

Finally, if you go back though your last six scripts and they have nothing redeemable in them. If there are no characters who deserve a life in a different project, if there are no concepts that just need reworking or rewriting, then maybe you shouldn't be doing this. Yes, it does take time to learn how to be a screenwriter. Yes, we will sometimes put time into projects that are wrong headed. But, right from the very start, the least we should bring to the table are half decent ideas and interesting characters, if we are to have any hope at all of making it in this business. 

Ultimately, the years we spend developing our slate of projects isn't a waste, it's an investment... and we shouldn't lose heart if our early scripts don't open doors for us. That time isn't squandered, those projects are not dead. Their rejection by people at the bottom end of the industry, or by self-proclaimed screenwriting gurus doesn't make them valueless. Ultimately, any time we have a script completed, regardless of how it's received at the time, providing we treat it like it's valuable. It's an investment, a property waiting for the right door to open. Our old scripts retain their value to us as products, providing we continue to work on and reevaluate the best parts of them, as our skills and industry knowledge increase. Because, when our break-through moment comes, and we suddenly have people who want to read what we've written, it maybe the project we thought would never find a home, that ends up being our biggest asset.

keep rewriting and viva la revolution

Posted via email from Filmutopia's Sunday Morning Movie Blog

Sunday Movie Blog: Finding The Voice on The Page

photo by Miikka Skaffari

My most significant professional work, prior to screenwriting, was writing radio commercials. I was good at it. Did it for twelve odd years; odd in both senses of the word. Along the way, I won a serious number of international awards. If they gave out Oscars for selling beer on the radio, I'd have a dozen of them. Oscars that is.

I've been lucky, because screenwriting and radio advertising are both forms of writing which have one distinct quality. In both cases, you are writing for the voice. 

It's hard to express just how important being able to write for the voice is for screenwriters. And, when I talk about writing "an actor's script," it is exactly that ability, the ability to write sentences that are easy on the tongue, which flow naturally from the mouth, that I am talking about. 

And, surprisingly, this is the point at which I need to mention my dyslexia. I am dyslexic. Not as badly as my youngest brother, who is chronic, and not as badly as my Mother... but, for a person who writes all day, everyday, and who has done for years, my ability to spell simple words is retarded. And, before someone yelps about my use of the word "retarded," I'm using it in the technical sense, that I am well behind where I naturally should be, were I not disabled. Which is also the reason both my grammatical sense and my usage of punctuation colour well outside of the lines of acceptable usage. My writing would not win me any spelling bees, or any ribbons for English composition. I write sentences that infuriate school-teachers, and I always have done.

And yet, it is exactly because I was unable to take in the rules of the game whilst at school, where I was too busy trying to spell "adequate" to pay attention to the niceties of subject and predicate, that has defined my writing style. Just like Daredevil in the comic books, my inability to see it on the page as a child, heightened my ability to listen. I learned to be eloquent, long before I learned to spell "participle." (by the way, I spelled "adequate" wrong four times just now, before I hit the right combination. That part just doesn't get any better).

According to the educators, I shouldn't be a writer. By their standards, I am poorly equipped to succeed... and without a spell checker, I would be unemployable.

At the same time, the very thing that makes me a retarded English student, makes me a phenomenal radio copywriter and a gifted screenwriter. By forcing me to understand language by the way people speak, my disability provided me with the perfect opportunity to develop a distinctive voice as a writer.

However, the purpose of this week's article isn't "aren't I wonderful" (just for a change)... nope, this week's article is a sincere attempt to persuade those people who want to write screenplays, to forget about writing in the conventional, educated sense... and to somehow develop an ability to hear the patterns... to sense the rhythms... to feel the cadences... to sense the lyrical qualities of the spoken word. And to then bring that sense to the page... not just in dialogue, but with every hit of the keyboard.

The message this week is, find your voice... throw away Lynn Truss, take her book from the shelf next to the loo and find a suitable use for the paper.  Screenwriting, in fact any kind of creative writing, is never about colouring within the lines and showing our grammatical competence, it's very simply about selling our ideas... and selling ideas happens best, when we talk from the page. 

keep writing and viva the revolution

Posted via email from Filmutopia's Sunday Morning Movie Blog

Sunday Movie Blog: Finding The Voice on The Page

photo by Miikka Skaffari

My most significant professional work, prior to screenwriting, was writing radio commercials. I was good at it. Did it for twelve odd years; odd in both senses of the word. Along the way, I won a serious number of international awards. If they gave out Oscars for selling beer on the radio, I'd have a dozen of them. Oscars that is.

I've been lucky, because screenwriting and radio advertising are both forms of writing which have one distinct quality. In both cases, you are writing for the voice.

It's hard to express just how important being able to write for the voice is for screenwriters. And, when I talk about writing "an actor's script," it is exactly that ability, the ability to write sentences that are easy on the tongue, which flow naturally from the mouth, that I am talking about.

And, surprisingly, this is the point at which I need to mention my dyslexia. I am dyslexic. Not as badly as my youngest brother, who is chronic, and not as badly as my Mother... but, for a person who writes all day, everyday, and who has done for years, my ability to spell simple words is retarded. And, before someone yelps about my use of the word "retarded," I'm using it in the technical sense, that I am well behind where I naturally should be, were I not disabled. Which is also the reason both my grammatical sense and my usage of punctuation colour well outside of the lines of acceptable usage. My writing would not win me any spelling bees, or any ribbons for English composition. I write sentences that infuriate school-teachers, and I always have done.

And yet, it is exactly because I was unable to take in the rules of the game whilst at school, where I was too busy trying to spell "adequate" to pay attention to the niceties of subject and predicate, that has defined my writing style. Just like Daredevil in the comic books, my inability to see it on the page as a child, heightened my ability to listen. I learned to be eloquent, long before I learned to spell "participle." (by the way, I spelled "adequate" wrong four times just now, before I hit the right combination. That part just doesn't get any better).

According to the educators, I shouldn't be a writer. By their standards, I am poorly equipped to succeed... and without a spell checker, I would be unemployable.

At the same time, the very thing that makes me a retarded English student, makes me a phenomenal radio copywriter and a gifted screenwriter. By forcing me to understand language by the way people speak, my disability provided me with the perfect opportunity to develop a distinctive voice as a writer.

However, the purpose of this week's article isn't "aren't I wonderful" (just for a change)... nope, this week's article is a sincere attempt to persuade those people who want to write screenplays, to forget about writing in the conventional, educated sense... and to somehow develop an ability to hear the patterns... to sense the rhythms... to feel the cadences... to sense the lyrical qualities of the spoken word. And to then bring that sense to the page... not just in dialogue, but with every hit of the keyboard.

The message this week is, find your voice... throw away Lynn Truss, take her book from the shelf next to the loo and find a suitable use for the paper.  Screenwriting, in fact any kind of creative writing, is never about colouring within the lines and showing our grammatical competence, it's very simply about selling our ideas... and selling ideas happens best, when we talk from the page.

keep writing and viva the revolution

Posted via email from Filmutopia's Sunday Morning Movie Blog

Sunday Blog: What Pitching to Big TV in Los Angeles is Like

Breathe...

Low, Quiet Voice...

Talk Slowly...

Listen...

Those are the four things I scrawled on a piece of paper, right behind my computer, ready for the pitch. 

Then my phone rang... and, it started. The two writers in the Los Angeles office and me, sitting at my kitchen table in Milan, looking at my cheat sheet... Breathe, Low Quiet Voice, Talk Slowly... Listen.

Listen is the key one, the difference between a good pitch and a bad one. And, as I got to be the disembodied voice on the end of the phone, I got to listen, a lot. The guys in Los Angeles handled most of the pitch. Mainly, I listened.  That is, except for the first pitch... which was the project which has been my primary piece of work for the last year. For that I had to speak. I don't care how hard people think pitching is, try doing it when you can't see the people in you're pitching to. Sure, I had my rehearsed pitch... but the truth of the matter is, under those circumstances it is definitely better to be face to face, so you can read the room. It is all kinds of horrific to pitch into dead space. For instance, how the hell do you work out when to stop talking? It's harder than you'd imagine.

But, despite that... and despite some quality issues with the phone line (which meant I only heard 50% of the rest of the meeting), despite all of that we had a great meeting.

We pitched four ideas  to one of the most important TV development teams in the world, and they liked everything! They're now reading every single project we put in front of them. 

We have gone from pitching projects to talking about projects. And, so far, it's been lovely.

The question is, what can be learnt from this? The truth of the matter is, I'm not sure. 

There are some basic truths about teamwork, research, preparation, proper development and industry knowledge... but they aren't revelations. It's just common sense to ensure your pitches match the output of the people you're pitching too. It's also common sense to develop and test your pitches with writers you trust and respect. 

However, the more I do this, the more I understand that surrounding yourself with good people is the only piece of advice any writer really needs. And, obviously, the logical extension of that, is that a writer working in isolation isn't surrounded by good people. 

The idea of writers working alone is almost a cliche, in fact, it seems hard wired into us... but, these days, with social networking, there isn't any excuse for a writer not creating a supportive community. Not necessarily by setting up a writer's group, but simply by finding writers you you share common ground with. Historically, this isn't even that strange, lots of writers have worked in clumps or ad-hoc communities. Read "Moveable Feast" by Hemingway some time, if you don't believe me.

A few weeks back I wrote about development teams (one writer, one script editor, one producer). I was saying how important it was to have three people to oversee the development of a project. Well, if you're not working with an established producer, there is absolutely no reason at all why three writers can't create the same process. Just as long as they are aware that someone has to step back and keep an eye on the business side of the project. 

If I learnt anything about pitching to the majors this week, it's that writer development teams work... or maybe it's just that this particular writer development team works. What is definitely true, is that there are real advantages for writers to working together prior to pitching, rather than starting the collaborative process post pitch. Not as co-writers, but as development teams. Co-writing is a different story. 

keep writing and viva la revolution

Posted via email from Filmutopia's Sunday Morning Movie Blog

Sunday Movie Blog: Pitching in London and Los Angeles this Week

photo by  The U.S. Army  

Los Angeles. Two writers make their way to a meeting with high powered TV executives. Another writer sits by the phone, waiting to conference in from Milan.

London. Commissioning editors read pitch documents. Emails are exchanged, rapidly. Doors are opened, eagerly. Conversations are had, professionally. 

This week, is that week. This is what all the frenetic work of the last year has been leading up to. I am up to my armpits in documents that need writing/rewriting or reading, photographs that need editing... and, the clock is ticking.

But... the hard part of telling this story is deciding where to begin. 

One way to start, would be talk about the phone call I received last year, asking me whether I had any ideas for a TV series. It was more than just a question, it was also the offer of a job from an old and dear friend. A friend with big plans. As it happened, I did have an idea. A good one.

Another place to start this story would be eight years back. An email conversation between two screenwriters, one American and one British, about the film industry and about screen-writing. A conversation that seemed to revolve around our disappointment in independent film and some ideas we had about writers working together, not as co-writers, but as partners. The very simple idea we kicked around was that a team of writers could be stronger than one writer working alone.

Or, perhaps this starts with the death of my best friend, and how an online conversation about grief with another American screenwriter, turned into a friendship and then into a collaboration. 

Fundamentally, the reason we’re pitching to the majors this week, is because a lot of talented people worked together to make it happen. More than that, those people were able to make it happen, because each and every one of them has dedicated years of effort into being ready for this moment. 

And, this is really is the point of this week’s post. To get to this moment, the moment we’ve all worked towards, has taken a lot more effort than people may imagine. And yet, at the same time, it is amazing how the right idea, connected to the right script, presented at the right time, will seem to open doors, effortlessly. We are all at this point because everyone connected to the project believes passionately in it. We have faith in it and each other. And, all of us have earned our right to sit at the table. When people ask us whether we have paid our dues, we look them right in the eyes and say "The cheque is in the mail." (Yes, that is a quote and, no, you shouldn't need to ask me where from)

At the same time we are also completely aware, that regardless of how well prepared we are, how good the project is, how passionate everyone has been so far and how much name talent we have attached, we are still a long way from popping the fizzy French wine (or fizzy water for me).

Or perhaps not... because although the purpose of these meetings is to sell the most developed project we have, what we are really selling is us. This project is our calling card to the industry. And what we really want is for them to want to work with us. 

So, really, it’s not only about this one idea, it’s about how this idea demonstrates what we are about as a team. And, we are a great team.

Maybe it is time to crack open the fizzy wine... because, already, as a result of this one project we have open doors all over the industry on both sides of the Atlantic. In real terms, regardless of how this pitch comes out, we have all already won. And, I am genuinely excited about what's happening. Not so much about selling this project, but that as writers we are now in the right place, at the right time, to show the industry what we're made of.

And, it only took ten years of hard work to get here! Huzzah.

keep writing and viva la revolution! 

Posted via email from Filmutopia's Sunday Morning Movie Blog