S-E-X Tips for Screenwriters: The Free Rewrite

S-E-X Tips for Screenwriters: The Free Rewrite

Dear Paige,

I couldn’t be more excited!

I’m finally working with a real, Hollywood professional!

At first, they told me they LOVED my script. What a rush!

But now they want me to make all these changes. For free. I thought that once I was a real, working writer, I’d be getting paid to write.

I swallowed my pride and did a free rewrite. I held my breath waiting for them to read it and get back to me.

Only to find that they had more notes. More writing for free!

I feel used. And confused. Why would they say they loved my script if they didn’t love my script?

Should I give in and do another freebie, or stand firm and insist on getting paid like a professional?

Yours,

Slave Laborer


Dr. Paige Turner

Congrats S.L.! This is a great opportunity that clearly took plenty of hard work on your part – both in writing and marketing your material.

The best way I can help is by shattering some of your illusions about how the industry really works.

Your First Mistake: Thinking that just because someone said they “loved” your script they thought it was perfect.

Has such a script ever existed? In the history of writing, I doubt that a script was ever produced which was then pronounced “perfect” by someone who meant it.

There’s always room for improvement. That means a rewrite.

Next Reality Check: You are in a business where being overly enthusiastic is the norm.

“Love,” as you know, is a strong word, not to be used lightly in real life where you could wind up meeting a girl’s parents and registering for silver patters before you know it.

In this universe, casual acquaintances quickly turn to best buddies. No one says “no” because no one wants to offend. The person you offend today may be someone you need to be your best buddy tomorrow. Following that painfully bad film screening, you’re likely to hear, “Wow, that was… more than a movie!” when someone is speaking to the creators.

Superlatives are the rule, not the exception in a land where a standard, post-meeting ta-ta is, “Love you! Mean it!”

Think of it as the heat of the moment. After searching for a needle in the haystack – we’re finally getting lucky, baby!

We’re exhilarated to have discovered a script with potential.

We’re eager to meet a promising new writer who could lead us to more projects.

“We love your script!”

That isn’t a marriage proposal. Translation: That’s not a banana in our pocket, we’re just happy to see you.

Third Major Misconception: “Real writers” don’t write for free. Tsk, tsk. All the time, bud. All the time.

And rarely, if ever, do you hear them complain. Pro writers want their work to be the best it can be. In fact, they are eager for smart, insightful notes.

Is our desire for a rewrite an evil plot to exploit and torture you? Hell no.

Our goal is to keep that damn boulder of a project moving uphill. That often means a new draft:

  • We need a rewrite because we bringing a fresh perspective to the piece and can see the flaws that you are too close to perceive.
  • We need a rewrite before we can take it out to the town. You only get one chance to make a first impression. If word gets out that your script isn’t worth reading, it’s dead in the water. See The Tortoise and The Hare to learn about the tragic tale of a writer not willing to accept smart, professional advice and take another much needed pass.
  • We need a rewrite to make it more appealing to the marketplace.
  • We need a rewrite because if we turn this one in to the studio, they will lose their hard-on for the project, and could kill it.
  • We need a rewrite because once the notes and rewriting process starts, the next draft is almost inevitably a step backward. It is not as polished. Changes need to be fully incorporated. Some of our notes (Gasp!) may not even be as good an idea as they seemed at the time.

As a producer, I’ve gone to the mat with an agent to convince her to persuade her client to take another pass before turning the latest draft into the studio. This was a fairly typical “step deal.” Each time the writer turned in a draft, he got paid another percentage of the whole purchase price. Of course, the writer wanted to get paid. And a significant part of an agent’s job is getting their writers paid. But I knew that the draft was bound to disappoint the studio.

Part of my job is to keep the studio execs hot and bothered about the project. I can’t risk having them lose their enthusiasm. I urged the agent to consider this a “Producer’s Draft.” That’s an extra draft not specified in the studio deal that the producer sees and gives notes on, but the studio never lays eyes on. Far from a well-kept secret, this is standard operating procedure.

I made a convincing case, and the agent got on board. The writer agreed, and the project was better for it.

Exploitation of an innocent writer, or me doing my level best to get the project made?

So my put upon pal, it’s your first time out of the gate. Suck it up. Remain enthusiastic. Be good to work with. Give the rewrite your best. Acknowledge all notes, but do not execute them unthinkingly. Part of your job is to protect the story and not let the note-giver lose sight of what they fell in love with in the first place.

Remember the wisdom of Hungarian born playwright and novelist whose work was often adapted for well-known American films and musicals, Ferenc Molnár:

“Writing is like prostitution. First you do it to please yourself, then you do it to please others, and then you do it for the money.”

All this bubble bursting, my friend, is today’s freebie.

Love You/Mean It, Paige

Got a question for the Good Doctor? Leave it in the comments below and Paige will get back to you.

The Hare and The Tortoise: Who Wins the Race In the Film Industry?

The Hare and The Tortoise: Who Wins the Race In the Film Industry?



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.

The Hare and The Tortoise

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!