When I was first breaking into the business, I thought the best way to get a lay of the screenwriting land was to become a reader. I evaluated scripts for a broadcaster, a production company and a distributor. The distributor gave me two movie passes for every feature film script I read and reported on. The broadcaster paid me $150 per proposal or script. The production company paid me $100 per script. The money was terrible for the amount of effort I put into each reader’s report but a big advantage I did enjoy was developing relationships with decision makers who could later a) read my scripts; b) put my name on lists for writing jobs. Herewith a few thoughts based on that work.
Use screenwriting software.
The mark of the amateur was a script that was written in Times-Roman and utilized some weird Word macro. If you wanted to be treated like a professional, act like one, which means conforming to industry standards. Courier. 12 pt. Final Draft or Screenwriter.
Don’t submit a first draft.
Of the 100 scripts and/or proposals I read, at least 50 per cent came in before they were ready to be read by someone a writer/producer was hoping to get money from. They were usually poorly structured, boasted inadequate character development and relied on lazy dialogue riddled with clichés. They felt like first drafts that were based on sloppy outlines. These scripts earned a rating of Pass.
Do not submit an unoriginal script.
I cannot tell you how many times I read a script that featured a 20-something guy who lived in squalor and/or his parent’s basement. He would have a McJob, a detached tone masquerading as hip irony and an obsession with the sarcastic, unattainable bitch goddess who shared his interest in video games, comic books and skateboards. Somehow, despite his loserdom, he always managed to bed said goddess. Boring. And, again, Pass.
Submit a tight draft.
The first thing I’d do when I got a pile of scripts was find the shortest one. I’d flip to the final page and note how long it was. If it was 140 pages, I’d leave it to the last because I knew the odds were high that I’d be wading through some bloated morass. I was never proved wrong. If a script was 100 pages or less, that would instantly go to the top of the pile. If it was 90 pages, I’d be one pretty effing happy reader. That said, I read every page of every script and painstakingly typed up summaries for the executives. I figured that if someone had gone to the trouble of writing a script, the least I could do was give it serious consideration. The writers had had the courage to face the blank page and then submit the work so I owed them respect as a fellow member of the writing tribe.
Don’t be afraid to end up in the slush pile.
If you have a good script and an original idea, even if you don’t have fancy contacts to get you in the door, submit. Yes, you may end up in the slush pile. Yes, it may take a while for you to get a response. But if it’s good, there are executives dying to find something that holds promise so they can put it into development.
I always wanted to be the reader who found some little gem and brought it to the attention of the big bosses. I was dying to discover some unheard voice and champion it. Sadly, it didn’t happen as often as I would have liked. Dare to be awesome. Don’t be cynical. And give yourself a goal of becoming excellent rather than snagging a big bag of money. If you study your craft and really work at becoming a better writer, the money and the opportunities will follow.
Thanks Karen. Now, back to the massive rewrite. Gaaaah.
1 rumbles:
Fantastic bloggage, Karen; I immediately linked to this under ink's 'best writing advice I ever got...' thread, & forwarded to several new writers. Wise, true & frank is something would-be writers always benefit from, thank you!
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