Tag Archives: producers

Made it through about 8 pages of a script I was sent a couple of days ago. I had to stop reading. It wasn’t the story, I don’t think. I have no idea because I couldn’t wade through the misspellings and atrocious grammar to get to it.

Maybe some of them were typos. There’s not a writer alive that can find every single typo in a script. But most of them were sheer laziness and probably based on the attitude of “If they buy it, they’ll fix it. It’s the story that counts.” I’ve actually heard more than one writer say this or something similar to me in the past.

They are wrong. Spelling and grammar matter in a script. It reflects on how serious you are taken as a writer. Making the read as smooth and mistake free as you can is essential to getting your story told. Every misspelling or massive grammatical error takes the reader out of your story and focuses them on how poor the writer is for leaving them there.

Your writing reflects you. And getting anyone, besides your family and close friends, to read your script is an accomplishment. What you want is for them to want to read more, to love what you do and your style, to get them on board with you as a writer. Bad grammar and spelling does the opposite.

Yes, scriptwriting is different. We can all acknowledge that. You can write in fragmented sentences. You can break any and all grammar rules in dialogue if you have to. You can even break some spelling rules in dialogue to get a character’s syntax across. That works. But systemic spelling problems on every page will get your script tossed, in my opinion. Ur is not a substitute for Your. Twitter speak in your action lines is not the best way to get your story across.

Every program has spellcheck, so I’m kind of amazed that the spelling errors are still so prevalent. But they are and mostly all in bad scripts.

The excellent scripts I’ve read in the past and three for sure in the past couple of months were, not surprisingly, about 99% mistake free. (Thumbs up to Mike Maples, Emily Blake, & Eliza Lee)

I’m not reading the rest of that script I got 8 pages into. I’m calling the writer and telling her why, too. If she fixes it, I will happily give it another try.

Ok. Spelling and grammar rant over. Now... let’s talk about budget.

This is one subject that really gets some people in a lather. Should you pay attention to the budget of the script you’re writing? Or... should you just write the story you want to write and to hell with how much it will cost to make?

There are compelling arguments on both sides, but I come down on the side of paying attention to it, with a BIG unless...

If you are writing your big budget script as a writing sample, using it to try to get a big budget writing job somewhere down the line, I get it. That makes sense. I have a couple of those.

To expect to sell big budget scripts is a whole different matter. The truth is that there are very few producers or production companies that can make big budget scripts anymore that are pure specs. Maybe 5 or 6, tops. Maybe. And even those will make a script based on a sequel or a well known novel or a comic book or a cancelled TV show or a video game or an iconic cartoon or an amusement park ride or a board game before they’ll make a big budget spec. Hell… they’ll remake a previously failed film before they’ll make a big budget spec.

Now, before you fill my inbox with all the exceptions, I am aware of them and also know I can count those on my fingers in the last 5 years. You don’t even have to be paying much attention at all to see this trend. And add in unproduced writer to your resume and the odds go down a lot further.

But, as a writer trying to break in, if you write your scripts, or most of your scripts, with a budget of a million dollars or so, some maybe even less, there are tons of producers and production companies that want to read what you have and they can actually buy them and make them.

I am convinced that as a new writer trying to get noticed and optioned, right now, at this time in the industry, writing a great low budget film is the way. That may change, although I doubt it, with all the studios making safe tentpole Spiderman 14’s rather than something they have to take a chance on.

A great big budget script can help you if it’s for a writing sample, so you have to weigh it. But getting a big budget script read is also harder to do, in my opinion.

Write what moves you, but think about writing something lower budget that moves you, too. There are a lot more people out there who can read and option those.

 

On the same day earlier this week, I gave notes to two separate writers about their projects. My experiences with both were extreme, but not in the same way. I had to think a lot before deciding to tackle this as a blog, but the amazing disparity of the reactions to basically the same kinds of notes makes this a very good example to new writers.

I’ll describe both. The first came through good friend, who is not in the film or TV business at all, who asked me to read a script by one of his friend’s wife.  And I said, “Yes”, because he is my good friend and he’s never asked anything like this before.

Anyway… this woman, who I would guess is in her 40’s, sent her script with a very effusive note thanking me, telling me how she looked me up on IMDb and was thrilled to have her work read by a real produced writer. How she had read my website… it was a little much, but ok… She was excited I was reading it.

I sat down with my Ipad in the backyard one afternoon, glass of wine in hand, and read. Or tried to read. It was, for lack of a better description, a standard first script from someone who hadn’t done a lick of research on how to write a script. God awful.

Horrible premise. No character development or arcs. No discernible theme. Dialogue no human being would ever utter with 90% so on the nose it might cause a bleed. Plot holes in uncountable numbers. Typical first script coincidences for convenience. No subtext of any kind. Subplots that went nowhere and disappeared.

Character's thoughts and intentions told, not shown. One example of too many: “Joanie looked at him and thought about all they had been through and wondered if he was thinking the same thing. She thought about asking him, but did not want to upset him.”

I could go on (and on), but the gist of it I think you get. It was exactly what you’d expect from someone who has no idea what goes into writing a script. At all. It was a story that no one, even if written well, would want to see.

The second project came in the form of a book from my manager looking for my take on adapting it. It seems there’s money to develop it and I like money, so I read the book.

The biggest difference between these two projects was that the book has a very good premise and basic story idea, some potentially solid characters, and could be reworked and developed into a pretty good film, I think.

But the execution was, again, lacking. Not for trying. There were passages in the book that showed skill and again, a solid premise and theme. The biggest things missing from the book were good character development, a solid recognizable arc for the protagonist, and any discernible conflict. Not things that would make a good film. But fixable. And I had loads of ideas on how to fix it.

So… the stage is set. Now to tell each of these people the truth. On the same day.

I met with the woman who wrote the script for lunch. Drove about 40 minutes to meet her at a restaurant of her choosing. She was very nice and quite pleasant until I started talking about her script. Now, most people who know me know that I can be gentle about how I approach things with people that they might find unpleasant if I choose to be. Or not.

Because this was a friend of a very good friend, whose friendship I treasure, gentle was the way I wanted to handle it. So I started out with the strengths of the script. Grammar and spelling were solid… and the fact that she actually finished it was a good thing, because tons of scripts are started and never finished. It showed drive and work ethic.

Then I got into the bad news as gently as I could. I explained what goes into having a script be good. What was needed, in some detail, so I could tell her they were all lacking in her script. Didn’t get that far. She grinned and said, “Fantastic, because my script has all those things.” Uh oh.

I knew what was coming but I waded in anyway. And as I listed each shortcoming, she had an answer to each one. I didn’t get one complete sentence out. She had an excuse or answer before I could finish anything.

Finally, she asked what I was dreading, “What are you trying to say?” I told her that it was not going to sell or get made unless she paid for it herself. No one in Hollywood or anywhere else would take it seriously or her seriously as a writer at this point because she wasn’t ready. But that she should keep at it. Write another and then another and learn from it. I told her to read successful scripts and see how those writers did it. She sat in silence, listening. Or so I thought. Now, it seems to me, that she was either in shock or formulating her plan of attack.

And attack she did. Loud enough to be embarrassing to her and me. Who was I to tell her these things anyway? She saw my IMDb page and there was nothing on there I had written that SHE had ever heard of and they were probably fake anyway. I was a fraud. A charlatan (her word). Her script was an Oscar script if anyone made it. (no kidding) It was scary. Exorcist scary. I wouldn’t have been surprised if her head spun around.

I quietly assured her that my credits were real and those were all produced films, some with very high ratings, not that I had to, but so many people were now listening, it was a survival instinct, I think.

She leaned in… “I have an attorney on retainer and I would have no problem suing you if ever say any of these things about my script to anyone, you understand?”

That’s when I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. I stood and thanked her for the lunch. (Yes, I left her with the check.) I told her she was free to sue me for my OPINIONS, but it wasn’t going to be a fun time for her if she did. Then I told her that there was one specific thing she could do that would help her script. Use it to start a fire. And I was gone.

Got a call from my friend on the way home. He was very very apologetic. She had called and unloaded on him. Then we both started laughing and he said, “Never again.”  And I said, “You got that right.”

So I got home and there was an email from my manager asking that I call the authors of the book I read to talk with them about the adaptation job. My first thought was, “Oh why not.”

It couldn’t have been any different. Polar opposite. On a conference call to the husband and wife writing team, they listened to what I had to say, were both enthusiastic about my ideas and thoughts, understood where the weaknesses were and recognized them, and thanked me for my attention to detail. It was like I was in another dimension.

Don’t know if I’m getting the job or not, there are still other writers to talk to, but my manager called and said they loved what I had to say. So… hopefully it will turn into a job. If not, it was a pleasure and a breath of fresh air to talk to them.

One day. Two extremes. The first woman is assured of never ever being a success. The others have a good chance. Don’t be that first woman. Please. It will lead to miserable failure.

Learn to listen to notes. If someone is nice enough to read your work, LISTEN to them. You are free to reject their ideas because it is your spec. But open your mind and really listen.

I did a Blog about notes, so I’m not to beat that horse again except to say if you want to do this screenwriting thing you’d better be open to them, because they are coming and most of the time they are absolutely what you do not want to hear. But a lot of the time those notes will make your script better. Not the same, but better.

My sometimes writing partner Jeff Willis and I sold (sold, not optioned) a script last year. “The Right Girl” is a different kind of romantic comedy that we were very proud of. If you were to read our first draft and the shooting script (which goes in July… YAY), which we were fortunate to have written, too (NO OTHER WRITERS so far), you’d see that the final product is light years from what we originally wrote.

One of the notes we got early turned the script on its head because it basically asked that we change the key story point, meaning that everything in the script needed to be redone to accommodate this change. We grumbled to each other, but we did it. Now, damn, it’s a really good script. Different. But funny and interesting and best of all, still a really good story.

We got an Email this week that we made the production team at the Production Company that bought it laugh out loud while reading it. You can’t imagine how satisfying that is.

How did we get to write every draft without the company having to hire other writers? We listened. We cooperated. We instituted their notes the way THEY WANTED THEM and still kept the integrity of our story. It’s a lot of work and sometimes very frustrating because it isn’t what we wanted for our story, but c’mon, they are going to make it and it’s going to be shown to audiences with our names in the credits as the writers. Plus, there is the money aspect.

And it’ll show up on IMDb soon and it will be yet another produced film I have that the woman who threatened me will have never heard of.

 

Sometimes, writers ask me for advice of all kinds. More lately since I started the Blog.

Anyway, this last week I heard from a writing team who had written an adaptation based on a true story that was brought to them by a producer and the person whose story it was.

These writers did research. A lot of research. Worked hard on crafting the script. Took it to their writing group, workshopped it, got a lot feedback, and used those notes to improve it to the point where they thought they had a pretty darn good script.

Sounds pretty good, huh? Now, the producer wants the script and the owner of the story wants to bring on another writer to look at their script and possibly do a rewrite. All normal things for people to do trying to get a script ready for possible production.

Except… The writers have no contract. They were promised one. Never got it. Wrote the entire work without a deal in writing from anyone. They also accepted payment of one dollar. That they got. They said they’ve asked for the contract on numerous occasions and have gotten the run around. They have no manager or agent to help them either. Having either or both negates this whole blog, by the way. This is for the majority out there without representation.

So... Now the writers don’t want to send the script. They asked me what I would do. I told them I wouldn’t have written a damn word without a signed deal in the first place. They said they registered the script with the WGA, wouldn’t that protect them? From what? They accepted the dollar. They don’t own it. It’s a work for hire based on someone’s life they don’t have the rights to. All they’ve done is register their version of the story, which the producer can’t use without paying them. And that’s good. But they still don’t own the story and can’t sell it to anyone else.

So I told them, if it was me, I’d say, “Be happy to send the script when I get the contract that was promised.” So they did that. They heard back from the producer first. He said that he was dropping out of the project and goodbye. Don’t contact him again.

Next came a letter from the lawyer of person whose story it was. It said, “The project is dead. Don’t contact my client again.”

So, where does it leave these writers? With a ton of hard work and sweat gone and a script they can’t do a damn thing with. Time, and I’m sure money, they could have spent on their own original scripts.

Is this an unusual story? Not at all. These are smart, capable, nice people who have a dream to write films that get made and seen. A small example of the thousands and thousands who have the same dream. Heck, it was my dream.

The lure and promises of possible production and paid jobs is hard to resist for a screenwriter with a dream. I know. When I first started, I fell for it, too. Fell hard. Promises by “producers” who couldn’t buy their own coffee, but talked a good game. Only once I wrote while waiting for a contract that never came. Learned that lesson fast.

The lure. The dream. The excitement. It’s so easy to fall into the trap these writers did. That I did.

Then I got smart. No writing without a contract. None. No writing without a paycheck of some kind. Didn’t have to be a lot, depending on the project, but money needed to change hands. If someone doesn’t have a financial investment in what you’re doing for them, they can drop it without blinking an eye. Doesn’t hurt them one bit. You’re the only one who’s out. Your valuable time and effort wasted. Do you want to be in that kind of arrangement? Too many writers get into them every day. Are there exceptions that work out? Sure. But the percentage is so incredibly small, to me, it’s not worth the risk.

Finally, I also realized you can turn people down. Really. And you have the right to check out the people you’re dealing with. To ask them who they are and what they’ve done. To ask for references. If they are legit, they won’t bat an eye.

You have the right to negotiate, in good faith, a contract you’re both happy with and walk away if you’re not. Save yourself some grief.

One of my scripts, one that’s been optioned by six different companies, taught me how to do it. One very well known producer wanted to option it for his company. He sent me the contract. Not bad, but it had two sections with what I call “pull the wool over the naïve and excited writer’s eyes” clauses. Clauses like this are in a lot of contracts because like any good business, the business is going to try and get away with all they can. I don’t get mad about stuff like this. It’s business. And not just the film business. All big business.

We sat in a nice LA restaurant with a couple of his assistants and I looked him in the eye and slid the unsigned contract back over to him said I couldn’t sign the deal with those clauses the way they were. Sorry. The assistants were shocked. Shocked. Wasn’t he doing me a favor to option my script? Nope. It’s business. And you as a writer are in BUSINESS for yourself and you need to treat it that way. The minute you get emotional about it, you lose.

The producer smiled and asked me what I would suggest the clauses say. I told him one had to go completely and how I would redo the other. He asked “Would you walk away from this deal if I didn’t do it?” I smiled and said, “Only after dinner’s over, I’m enjoying the company.” He laughed. One of his assistants asked me if I was serious. The Producer looked at me and then at his assistant and answered for me. “Yes. He is.”

The bottom line, we came to an agreement that was satisfactory to both of us and I signed the contract. Movie never got made. Not that they didn’t try hard. And they paid me well for the option and I was happy to do rewrites for them.

Now, that same film is getting made this year with one of the people I met through that deal.

You want to be a pro writer? Act like pro writers do.

Get it in writing. Get a contract before you do any job. Treat it like the business it is. And negotiate the best deal you can. Remember, people can promise you anything verbally. Make them write it down.