Now here’s a sticky question from my readers that I think Dr. Paige Turner would be more qualified to deal with than I am.
“Paging Dr. Turner, Dr. Paige Turner to the ER.”
Dear Paige,
This is hard for me to talk about, I hesitate to bring it up, but I know you will handle it with care and sensitivity. I can’t seem to get excited about writing these days. I want to write, I really, really do. But I get up to the keyboard and there’s just no action.
At first I thought I was just tired out from a long day. The next time, I was operating on a full night’s sleep. It was early in the morning, one of my favorite times to write. Well actually, I like to write just about every chance I get, but the mornings – I’m ready and raring to go!
Not that time.
My next attempt was also a flop.
No matter how much I want to, I just can’t get those creative juices flowing. I don’t even want to try, because I just can’t bear coming up dry yet again.
My writers’ group says it’s no big deal. “It happens to everyone.” But what if they’re saying that just to make me feel better?
Paige, can you give it to me straight?
Yours truly,
Richard
Dear Dicky,
You know I don’t pull any punches. So here’s the truth:
Yes, they are just trying to make you feel better.
But – it does happen to everyone, at least once or twice.
Now Dick, I’m clearly not able to diagnose you properly without a face-to-face examination, but the symptoms you are describing sound like what is commonly known as Writer’s Block, but what we in the profession tactfully refer to as “R.S.,” short for “Resistance Syndrome.”
Resistance can morph into many forms. You may think you’re just experiencing a touch of Writer’s Block, when what you have could be lethal.
Let’s assess your problem objectively. Here’s a little home test you can perform to determine if you are indeed suffering from Resistance Syndrome:
Writer’s Block or Procrastination?
A little procrastination is normal.
But uncontained, it can explode into a full-blown outbreak.
Do you see yourself in this scenario?
Writing. Gotta step away from the computer for a minute. Outta Diet Coke. Chips might be good with that. Not hungry. More like itchy, but still… Might as well go to the bathroom so I don’t have to get up later. Is that toilet tank running again? I gotta fix that.
OK, back at the computer. Writing. Why can’t I read my own notes? My handwriting sucks. Maybe check my email. Nothing new in the last five minutes. Maybe browse Facebook real quick. Jeez, these people haven’t posted anything interesting in hours.
We’re back. Writing. Let’s move this sentence. No, no, no. Move it back. Nah, cut it. Just cut it. There’s gotta be a better word than that. Over to Thesaurus.com. Actually, that word says just what I want. Hmmm, is it further or farther? Dictionary.com says, “interchangeable.” Hey, there’s an ad for fart sounds in a can. Oh, I gotta forward that link.
Man, is my ass tired from sitting in this chair. Yup, I’m writing. Writing about how writers can make writing easier and more effective. Make their writing take them further/farther faster. Maybe I should be writing about farting. Oh, I definitely need to post this procrastination marathon to Facebook. Then, straight back to writing.
“Writing is what you do when procrastination finally drives you crazy.”
I can’t find out who said this, though I have certainly wasted enough time searching online. Nevertheless, they obviously knew what they were talking about. To be honest Dick, I only answered your letter because I couldn’t come up with a reply to someone else’s pressing question.
Richard, is your procrastination persisting for more than four hours?
If so, you should seek immediate treatment.
The Distraction Man Cometh
Distraction – procrastination’s sinister Partner in Crime – steals your attention and “Boom!” You can’t concentrate on the task at hand.
Anything is more interesting than your script.
Your mind wanders.
You drift off into endless outer space.
You can’t concentrate on one thing for more than a minute.
Soon you are totally lost. No idea what you where you were headed or even where you are now.
You’re writing at Starbuck’s, and you can’t stop eavesdropping on the couple next to you on an awkward first date. You get up from your desk, and you wind up doing two loads of laundry. The phone rings, a friend wants to know if you want to catch the new movie coming out this weekend, and you keep them on them on the line for an hour.
So Dick, are you at the point where you’d rather reread an old issue of National Geographic than cozy up to your computer, open up that file and dive in?
Writer’s Block or The Siren Song?
You are in the zone, or there’s a milestone in sight, or you’re nearing the finish line at last, when “Hark!” it’s the siren song of a New Idea!
Enticing.
Seductive.
Perilous.
Do not fall prey to the allure of the Succubus. It may seem irresistible, but beware! In reality this is an inescapable trap – simply another form of self-sabotaging distraction. Should you engage, your ship will crash on the rocks and sink.
Open a new document. Jot down the concept. Name the document. Close the document. Push on!
The idea will still be there when you’re ready to write something new.
Now get immediately back on course – or risk never reaching your destination.
Dick, if you answered yes to any or all of these questions, your test results are in.
You are experiencing the symptoms typically associated with Resistance Syndrome, aka Writer’s Block.
I bet you’re afraid to ask if there’s a cure.
Honestly, yes and no.
It’s treatable, especially when diagnosed early. You will survive, although you may experience intermittent pain and discomfort of Writer’s Block. Click here to read about how you can conquer R.S. and even enjoy an active and productive lifestyle.
Be strong Dick. I am confident that you will get through this.
You may think you learned all you need to know about how to take a pitch meeting in Paige’s last column.
But that’s just the beginning of the story.
Here’s Part Two of her reply to “The Beav” about movie pitch meetings – the fantasy and the reality.
Over to you Paige.
B.E.
Dearest Eager,
What could possibly go wrong in a pitch meeting?
E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.
As in anything possible, as well as things far beyond the furthest stretch of your imagination.
I’ve taken a seat on either side of the desk many a time. I’ve donned The Exec Hat, as well as worn a fetching Producer’s Chapeau, and let me tell you dear reader, just when you feel confident that you know how to pitch a movie idea, and what to expect in a pitch meeting, SURPRISE! Your sweet fantasy can turn into a terrifying nightmare in a flash.
The phone rings and the Exec takes the call.
Look politely off into the distance. Strive for invisibility.
The phone rings and the Exec does not take the call.
It just keeps ringing. Smoothest pitcher I ever saw in this situation said, “And then the phone rang,” and kept right on going with her story. Now that’s how to pitch a movie idea!
You start your pitch and the Exec says, “Stop!”
They have something similar in development and are cutting you off because they don’t want to get sued. Have another pitch or two prepared. Act as if you are unfazed. Nonchalantly josh, “Well you certainly have great taste,” and move on. “I’ve got a smart comedy with romance and a broad teen comedy. Would one of those be up your alley?”
The Exec hates, loathes, despises your idea from the word “Go,” and failed to pass Poker Face 101.
It hurts like hell as all the air is sucked out of the room, but you must press onward, pitching through the pain. Cut it as short as possible. Go for the highly condensed CliffsNotes version.
Those are pretty run of the mill scenarios that every writer should be prepared to face. I’ve survived meeting disasters too outlandish to be believable in a movie. A few are simply too painful to for me recount, but here are a few that put many horror movies to shame.
The Exec starts to fall asleep.
Yes.
Really.
I was having a delightful time developing a smart, high-concept thriller with a terribly handsome writer who had captivating green eyes and a sexy English accent. He was brilliant and a terrific storyteller however, when spotted strolling the halls of a studio, his agent’s phone rang with calls from woman execs eager to meet with him.
I booked pitch meetings all around the town. We were set for a late afternoon pitch when the Exec’s (presumably) busy schedule left us cooling our heels in the waiting room. Reluctant to simply bail, we stuck it out until at last, we were shown into the conference room dominated by a huge, round table.
By this time it was dark. The Exec sat across the vast expanse from us, parked her elbow on the table and propped her head up with her hand. As the hot writer pitched his heart out, ever so slowly, the Exec began sliding…
down…
down…
down…
along the polished wood surface.
The writer jumped up and began animatedly acting out what happened next.
Tragic.
Some catastrophes are so outlandish that they are simply entertaining.
My all-time favorite fiasco story comes from my gal pal Barri Evins who, as President of Debra Hill’s company, at one point had an office in the production trailer for Escape From LA. While hearing a pitch from a husband and wife team, one of the three doors to her office popped open and there was Kurt Russell, in his tighty-whities.
Kurt, ecstatic that fifteen years later he could still fit into his original Snake Plissken outfit, was expecting to find a costume designer on the other side of the door.
The writers, seated in the corner, couldn’t see a thing.
Kurt and Barri however, shared quite the wide-eyed double take.
Talk about “Pitch us interruptus!”
No lesson here about how to pitch a movie idea, other than “Expect the unexpected.”
There is only one thing in the world that I want, need, dream of night and day.
One thing that will make me a success.
An agent.
Please tell me how I can get an agent of my very own.
Help me Paige!
Despairingly,
Ari Longing
Dearest A.L.,
You are not alone.
Countless writers believe that landing an agent is the Holy Grail of the screenwriting business.
“Oh, if I only had an agent, life would be perfect.”
Here’s the short answer, although I’m not certain it will leave you satisfied.
HOW TO GET AN AGENT?
The best way to get an agent is for someone inside the business to recommend you to an agent.
A vicious conundrum, yes?
But not an impossible quest.
Here’s how:
1) Do your homework.
If this is your chosen business, educate yourself on the players.
The Internet offers countless ways to learn about who is working in the industry, their studio deals, their projects, and their staff, plus all the contact info you could want provided you’re willing to pay a few bucks.
Bone up on who’s doing what. ReadVariety, The Hollywood Reporter or Deadline Hollywood for information on new deals, new projects, executives with new jobs and newly promoted agents and execs. Check out what new companies are looking for and what buyer or buyers they have relationships with. These articles are a wealth of information. And information is the currency that agents deal in. Information is powerful because it leads to sales.
2) Invest in your career.
Pony up some cash to get up to date, specific contact information such as with IMDbPro.
They offer a free 30-day trial and then the option of monthly or annual plans. It is a veritable gold mine of information on individuals, companies, projects past and in pre-production, plus trade articles that have even more scoop. There is in-depth contact information. There are even blogs on how to make the most of the information, such as How to find entertainment industry professionals I want to work with?
3) Aim low.
Hunt for people who are hungry. They need you! They’re looking for you. They’re starving for that great idea or talented new writer. Be the needle in the haystack, Grasshopper.
You have the best shot with newly minted development execs and assistants eager to become dev execs, as well as agency assistants hoping to become agents. They have the most to gain from “discovering” you or your project.
Don’t make the mistake of only going for the Big Fish. He’s not hungry. Know what their boss likes – whether it’s from reading about their projects/sales or interviews with them, and pitch that to them.
4) Aim carefully.
Target your query letters specifically to them. Know what their boss/company needs – whether from reading about their projects, sales, online interviews or job announcements – and pitch that to them. Do your homework!
If you find the hungry exec at a production company where the company principal, aka 3000 lb. Gorilla, might be interested in your project, they are THE perfect person to get you an agent. Asking the right person to read your script can lead to asking them – or them offering – to get you an agent.
5) Heading for happily ever after.
Young Exec gets points for finding a potential project and a promising writer. Since she has been busily building relationships with new agents who are moving up the ranks side-by-side with her, she knows Eager Agent who needs clients. Young Exec offers him a known quantity, not a script that was just “thrown over the transom.” She’s pitching the agent a writer she thinks is talented, possibly with a project that’s already getting some traction.
It’s the film industry version of matchmaking.
If Eager Agent and Aspiring Writer “hook up,” Young Exec is everyone’s darling. She will likely get a little special consideration: an early look at Aspiring Writer’s next project, and will be “on the list” when Eager Agent goes out with Aspiring Writer’s next spec. It’s a Win-Win-Win.
This is how career-long industry relationships are cemented.
The Win-Win-Win is the Number One Secret to breaking into the industry.
There are lots of steps that go into making The Win-Win-Win happen, and the time to start is yesterday! Do not wait until you’ve completed a script to start building relationships. Find all the scoop on how and why to network to pave the way for your own Win-Win-Win in my article, The # 1 Secret to Getting Read & Getting Ahead.
It’s essential to be in the know about the specific politics and etiquette of the industry as you build relationships to avoid any mistake or blunders. Read up on the inside jargon and pointers in my article, Inside Screenwriting Industry Politics to master the strict yet unspoken rules you must navigate to survive and thrive.
Without meaning to shatter your dream entirely, I must add one more thing.
A.L. are you sure you need an agent?
Maybe you need an entirely new perspective. First, check out this video “Be Your Own Agent:”
How and why you should hire yourself to be your own agent.
Trust me, A.L., it’s empowering.
Second big thought: Perhaps you should focus on getting a manager first.
Many writers find this to be an easier, more accessible path. A good manager will guide your career, read your work and give feedback, offer invaluable advice on what to write next, and yes – they will recommend you to an agent when the time is right!
Not to blow your mind with this suggestion. All of these practical pointers apply to meeting your Dream Manager. Until then, find out how you can make the all important decision, “What to Write Next” here.
Ooh, it’s getting late Mr. Longing, I’m heading to bed.
Time to address a little correspondence from that overflowing email in box of mine.
You need answers. You deserve good ones.
I’m handing over today’s Q & A to the scintillating and smart Dr. Paige Turner.
I have every confidence she will deliver.
H-e-e-e-e-r-e’s Paige!
B.E.
Dear Doc Turner,
Long time reader; first time writer.
I have this fantasy that I just can’t get out of my head. I’m sitting in a well-appointed office. I’m enveloped in a big, leather chair. Everyone in the room is focused on me, waiting with baited breath. I can tell that they want me.
I’m taking a meeting.
A real, live, industry movie pitch meeting.
But that’s where the fantasy ends.
I’m simply dying to know what happens next.
Please tell me how this torrid tale plays out!
Eager Beaver
Dear Beav,
There’s nothing wrong with fantasy. Indulge yourself, you naughty writer you! Let your mind run wild with thoughts of driving off afterwards in the back seat of a limo.
But that’s a bit of a stretch. Here’s a taste of reality:
You will kill yourself to get to the meeting on time. When did LA traffic get this bad? Why doesn’t the studio map make sense?
Then you will wait. Your heart will pound with excitement and nerves. This meeting could change your life. Or you could throw up.
While you wait, you will be given water. If you take a lot of meetings, you will accumulate an impressive collection of half-drunk water bottles rolling around in the backseat of your car.
Trust me Beav, if there’s any rolling around going on in your backseat, it ought to be you and a companion.
Eventually, you will be ushered into the inner sanctum. Introductions are made.
Next, comes a charming ritual dance, performed to the tune of “Who Sits Where.” This game of musical chairs is ever more entertaining the more people there are in the room. You may have a co-writer with you or a producer. The Exec may have a Junior Exec along for the ride. Everyone grasps the convoluted subtext here and will do-si-do accordingly.
Mr. Big has his own, personal chair. Wait for him to sit so you don’t inadvertently park your own toochis in it. Once his position has been determined, then seat yourself. Here’s the important part – ensure that you are in his direct eye line.
Greet the Junior with enthusiasm! They may well rise up through the ranks one day. Then ignore them. Their little head will be hunkered down in frantic note-taking as, at present, that’s their sole purpose in the room.
Your producer should seat themselves where they can watch Big’s reaction, not you. This way, they can give you feedback in the post-meeting debrief on what’s working and what’s not.
If, by some chance, you do not have water at this point, Big will insist on having you watered as though the success of the entire meeting depends on your being wet. Regardless, you will barely have a chance to take more than a single sip.
NOTE: If you are at Disney, the Big Studio Exec will put his feet up on the table, sit on the back of the chair, or in some way oddly interact with the furniture in the pitch meeting.
I do not know why this is so. I can only say that I have observed this phenomenon many times. Far too many for it to be mere coincidence.
I suspect a secret Disney Studio Exec Handbook exists advising that intentionally treating the furniture as if you were hanging out at home injects a pseudo sense of laidback casualness into a meeting.
In fact, it is simply perplexing.
Once everyone is settled in, it’s time for the chitchat.
There will definitely be some. The Exec will lead the way, but it doesn’t hurt to have some lines of your own. Remarking about the weather is painfully cliché. You might bring up a successful recent film release; an exciting casting coup. A likely topic is the script that got you through the door. There has to have been one, otherwise, what’s the point of him meeting with you anyway?
BOOM! Foreplay is over in minutes.
Time to get down to business. If you’re there with a producer, they should have a tidy preamble all prepared; hit a few key points, then toss the ball to you. If not, it’s your job to shift seamlessly into the movie pitch, setting the tone of your film as you do.
When you reach Fade Out, it’s time for a little after play.
Exec will inevitably have some questions. And you will have good answers. If he simply gushes, you are probably dead in the water. Best-case scenario, he makes a few suggestions. Why? It’s how he makes his imprint on your work. To be blunt, he’s peeing on your story. You gamely praise his ideas. If you think they are truly off base, even “cray-cray,” throw in a “Hmm, fascinating! I’ll have to give that some serious thought.”
Perhaps you bat ideas back and forth. Fabulous – they’re engaged! They might ask what else you are working on. You have a succinct answer targeted to the company’s taste and mandate. Hopefully, they like what they hear and ask you to keep them posted. Bravo! A line of communication has been opened! Chances are slim that this pitch is going somewhere, but he likes you and your work enough to want more.
A little cuddling is ok, but don’t overstay your welcome.
We all know that a writer’s life is a solitary one. You struggle, isolated and alone. Suddenly, there you are in a room full of people hanging on your every word. It feels pretty damn good. Of course, they don’t want to hurt your feelings, but there’s no way you’re staying for breakfast.
When a writer doesn’t realize a pitch meeting is over, a skilled exec will start throwing signals.
Uncrossing their legs. Capping their pen. Leaning forward and scooting to the edge of the chair as if about to rise. Be sure to catch them. If you’ve spotted all of these, you have overstayed your welcome. Say something charming and make your exit, souvenir water bottle in hand.
Seems simple, doesn’t it? What could go possibly go wrong in a pitch meeting?
In my ScriptMag.com article, “The Tortoise and The Hare: A Tale of Two Writers,” I told the story of two screenwriters, one behaving like The Tortoise in oft told proverb and the other more comparable to The Hare. But in this story, unlike the fable, The Hare seems poised to win the race.
In my story, The Tortoise is a screenwriter who dragged out the rewrite process and burned himself out, ignored notes, and ultimately just wanted to get his spec out into the world. His agents and I reluctantly sent his high-concept spec into the marketplace. It was ably written, but fell far short of delivering the promise of the premise.
And that’s what the Internet tracking boards reported, essentially saying, “Don’t bother.”
Since then, we’ve had a conference call with the agent.
It was painful for everyone involved.
She filled us in on the feedback she had received on the script. Again and again she heard, “Great concept, be we don’t connect with the characters.” “Great concept, but it wasn’t there.” People loved the idea but the characters didn’t engage readers and the script failed to deliver on the promise of the premise.
“The town has spoken,” she said. “We have to listen.”
She won’t make any more submissions until there is a major rewrite. And even then, that tracking board bad rap won’t go away. Even if we could change the title, which we can’t in this case, people will see that it is the same writer and the same premise.
BREAKING & ENTERING LESSON: The town has a long memory. Always has. The Internet made the exchange of information rapid and permanent, but we’ve always kept records. Each studio has a Story Department, with coverage on every piece of material ever submitted. When I worked for a producer with a deal at Disney, the first thing we did when we got a submission was to call the Story Department to see if they had coverage on the script. Nothing under that title? What about the writer? If we found coverage on the writer, we would look at character names to see if it was simply the same script with a new title, which was the case more than a few times. I pulled coverage from the Disney Story Department on projects that had been submitted to Walt. WALT DISNEY!
After the call, The Tortoise was in shock.
I spoke to him for a few minutes, and he clearly needed time to process what he’d heard.
We’re now set to talk at then end of the week. I’ll see where he is at now, discuss options with him, and can only hope that he is open to really tearing this down and reworking the script. Even then, we will have to have a new strategy for bringing the script into the marketplace, likely by packaging it with an actor or actress.
As for The Hare, after pushing herself to meet the contest deadline, she rewrote the script to incorporate some of the minor changes from my notes. I read the new draft, and I liked it a great deal – but I didn’t love it. Not enough to commit to producing it. The characters were not as gritty as her concept, nor the dark world she had created, and the tone of the story. And character-driven material – combined with a big concept – is where my heart lies.
We had a lengthy conversation beginning with some key logic points. There is a fantasy element here against a real world backdrop. Those must always be perfectly defined with clearly spelled out rules. We were able to quickly resolve the issues here.
Then we dug into the characters. There’s a hero and a love interest, and both need to be more fully developed characters, become more dimensional and edgy, and finally, their romance can’t fall into place so easily and be believable.
This writer just gets it. It was a productive discussion. She is eager to dig in and add an entire new dimension to the script. I think this is the step that will elevate the entire piece and ensure that the story delivers, and the execution is flawless.
In the interim, The Hare had won a small contest and someone involved with the contest wanted to share it with producers who were looking for material. What to do? My advice was to compose a very polite reply, enthusiastic yet authentic. “You’re delighted that they are enthusiastic about your script, you appreciate their support but, you are in the midst of a major rewrite – as in no one can see it. And then mention that a manager who is a fan of your work is expecting the new draft. And you will be happy to keep them posted.”
BREAKING & ENTERING LESSON: As I’ve said before, as Orson Welles promised in the Paul Masson commercials, “We will sell no wine before its time.” If someone is enthusiastic now, then consider it an open door. Don’t rush through before your material is ready and have it slammed in your face.
There’s still more to be written here about The Tortoise and The Hare. But the lessons for screenwriters hoping to break into the business are plentiful.
I’ll keep you posted as the story unfolds.
Meanwhile, remember the moral of the story – to succeed as a screenwriter, you must be both The Tortoise and The Hare.
Take your time learning how to write a screenplay, but never stop moving forward as fast as you can.
Be steadfast in your vision for the story, but don’t hesitate to consider insight and input from others with a fresh perspective and experienced eyes.
Don’t focus only on the finish line, but when opportunity comes leap!
It’s the film industry version of matchmaking.
