It is one of the highest compliments a writer can receive.
The most sought after characteristic.
The hallmark of a true storyteller.
It sets pros apart from the rest.
It’s the writer’s voice.
The writer’s voice is a magic ingredient that makes your writing irresistible. And makes the Industry want to meet you, hire you, and learn what you are writing next.
(more…)
You might think it’s 1) not living in L.A. and 2) not having an agent.
But you’d be wrong.
Your time and creative juice are your greatest commodities as a writer. If you don’t have those, you won’t make progress. You are being robbed of them every single day.
You have to bring home the bacon, take out the trash, walk the dog, and put the kids to bed. Even if you do manage to carve out a little time, you can’t just turn on the creative juices on like a faucet and beautiful sentences will pour forth. One of the biggest obstacles to getting into the writing zone – that sweet spot where it just flows, is the siren song of distraction. It feeds on our fears and doubts and thrives on the human tendency to procrastinate.
This beast eats up minutes that turn to hours and consumes your energy and attention. Perhaps you are one of the few that is not afflicted. If so, lucky you!
I once had to stop writing a script to defrost the freezer because the icy build up was driving me mad. Eager to accomplish the task, I devised a special speed defrost technique that primarily involved a butcher knife. The Maytag Repairman wouldn’t recommend this.
And now, neither would I.
What makes the killer of time and creativity a real horror story is that, all too often, “The call is coming from inside the house!” Perhaps you don’t feel like a prisoner trapped in your own workspace, but whether it’s your home office, your tool shed or a nifty set up on a studio lot, your regular writing space is packed with monsters and landmines there to sabotage you. Blake Snyder famous for the screenwriting book, Save the Cat. called this “Bungalow Fever” and advocated for “evacuating the premises.” Good advice.
Never underestimate the power of a change in location to switch things up. Routine has its advantages, but it can also become mind-numbing.
An afternoon or a day away can be refreshing. A weekend or a week in a new physical and mental space can truly reinvigorate you.
Experience exotic Costa Rica with Jacob Kruger. Long expanses of beach; yoga in the morning, movies at night and classes in between.
Dave Trottier will help you polish your script till it shines at Sundance.
Maybe you’d prefer a chateau in France with James Bonnet.
And what could top the Italian countryside? Molto bene!
For me, when it comes to retreats I head for the hills, specifically a getaway to the mountains. This June I’m off to Screenwriter’s Summer Camp!
I’m thrilled to be returning to Idyllwild Arts Summer Program and teaching a weeklong intensive, Screenwriting Revolution: Creating and Marketing Successful Screenplays, June 16 through 20. It’s held in Idyllwild, CA, two hours East of Los Angeles, a half hour uphill, in the mountains above Palm Springs.
And since we’re so close to L.A., on our final day I’ll be importing high-level industry professionals devoted to getting to know you and work with you. Trust me, you won’t find these folks at a Pitch-a-palooza at any price, much less sitting across the table from you at lunch.
Maybe you’re not feeling as if you need to tunnel your way out of an escape-proof POW camp, but this is the opportunity to get away from work, family, friends, Facebook and give your career an enormous boost.
Screenwriters at all levels of experience and proficiency will build the skills, knowledge, concepts, and relationships needed to make breaking into the industry a reality. Develop ideas with expert guidance, hone essential professional skills, and gain invaluable personal and industry insight. Establish real industry relationships.
Spend a week focused on understanding the industry from the inside and how to use that newfound knowledge, create and develop concepts that will ignite industry interest. Discover your passions and your strengths to elevate your stories. Master the art of pitching with skill and confidence. Gain powerful tools, techniques, and templates that will revolutionize your writing process, making it faster and more successful.
Advance Assignments will take you on a journey of self-discovery, spark creativity, and give me insights into making your week truly transformational. You will thrive with intimate, one-on-one work, benefit from group exercises, and see structure with utter clarity as we watch and discuss a film together.
Our week culminates in a day spent developing relationships with three working industry professionals – an agent, development executive and studio executive or manager. Since we’re so close to Los Angeles, they’re leaving their offices to join us.
We begin with introductions and Q & A in the morning, and then enjoy getting to know one another on a personal basis over lunch. The afternoon is devoted to listening to your polished pitches, with a generous amount of time to provide feedback on concept, market potential, pitching technique, as well as advice on how to move your work forward in the marketplace.
When you’re not in class or writing, discover why Idyllwild is best described as “idyllic.” It is the ideal location for a screenwriting retreat. This quaint, yet sophisticated mile-high town has more elevation than population and is home to the arts and artists of all kinds.
You won’t find is parking meters, traffic lights, or a rush hour.
There are unique shops to explore; offering handcrafted art, clothing and “build-your-own” ice cream bars. Enjoy little ethnic restaurants, as well as gourmet fare with live music playing on the patio. There’s even a movie theatre, with one movie playing twice a day, and the only video and DVD rental store in its lobby!
Take a hike. Wander the fabulous trails or hit the challenging ones. Unwind to the sound of the wind whistling through the tall trees, inhale the pine-scented breeze, contemplate the spectacular vistas.
No matter where you choose go for your retreat, even if it’s just the local library or a cool coffee shop, “Get out, get out, get out of the house!” Give yourself and your career the time and energy they deserve.
Send yourself to Summer Camp! Get what you need to succeed.
A writer’s life is rife with uncertainty.
Does the size of my screenplay matter?
How much should I reveal in a logline?
What really turns readers on?
You deserve answers. You won’t be satisfied until you get them.
So occasionally, I’ll be handing my blog over to my darling friend, Dr. Paige Turner, to address your most perplexing questions. The ones that keep you up at night, tossing, turning, tortured.
I have every confidence Dr. Turner will deliver just what you are craving.
The floor is entirely yours, Dr. P.T.
Dear Dr. Paige Turner,
How do I know my script is done and ready to be in front of the eyes of the industry?
Should I just keep endlessly rewriting?
Yours Truly,
Uncertain
Dear Truly Uncertain,
You pose an excellent question.
Unlike in other pursuits, there are no subtle clues when script is finished. No heavy breathing, no groans of pleasure, no one calling out your name or even inadvertently moaning, “Oh, Bill, Bill, Bill Goldman.”
But, if you are aiming for fireworks, here are some things to take into consideration:
There’s plenty of groundwork to be laid before one starts caressing the keyboard. If you hope to send tingles down your reader’s spine, you had better know your way around your story’s spine. Did you devote yourself to planning your screenplay before typing “Fade In?” Whether you use corkboards or computer programs, prewriting is a key strategy for scoring.
Your idea should grab us right from the start. As your story is revealed, we should find it intoxicating. A little unpredictability is hot. Your every move feels deliberate, designed to turn us on. Every element of your script comes together, supporting the core concept. Your hero drives the story. The conflict builds and escalates relentlessly toward the climax, leaving us breathless. Of course Truly, I don’t need to tell you that there’s no happy ending without a satisfying finish.
It’s easy to be impressed with your own performance. After all, you gave it your best moves. This is your baby. It’s nearly impossible to be objective about it. Chances are you are so caught up in the lush fantasy movie unspooling in your mind, that you may not realize what is missing on the page. Get some fresh eyes. Start with writer friends who offer reliable, constructive feedback on your latest rewrite. Beware those wingmen who fake it with over the top flattery, as well as those who attempt to turn your story into their story.
Many writers turn to contests to gage their writing, and send in a rewrite the next year to see if it scores higher and makes the cut. This can be a lengthy and slow process. Research contests and what they offer. Search for the right fit. Find out other writer’s experiences. There are so many out there. I recommend MovieBytes for the inside scoop – created by a writer, for writers, and jam packed with info and opinions from those who have come before you.
The opinion of a well-respected professional who has been around the block a few times will cost you, but their opinion is well worth it.
The short answer: You can’t tell.
That’s why I recommend a pro to bring you some fresh insights and offer constructive and objective advice. Be sure to check them out first, and get some recommendations from other satisfied customers!
Back in the olden days, when screenplays existed on paper, aspiring writers devoted an astonishing amount of time to discussing how many brads a script should have. It was fodder for heated Internet debate. What a waste! As if the number of brads would get your script read any sooner or taken any more or less seriously. For the record, as someone who sustained more than one brad injury toting around stacks of scripts: a) two and b) not the cheap ones.
Now that we’re not counting brads, there’s more focus than ever on page count. There’s no hard and fast rule here; don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. What counts is what makes you look like a professional. You’re in the zone at approximately 103 to 118. Approximately!
Remember, each page of script translates to a minute of screen time, so the running time of what’s in movie theatres is a guideline. One hundred and twenty pages is a 2-hour movie – plus credits. But those guys getting movies made can break a heck of a lot more rules than a new writer trying to break into the business.
As a producer, if you’ve gotten so far as to have me request your script, I’m going to take a look no matter what. I think any industry professional would say the same. Whether it’s too long or too short, you’re still going to get read. Page count, however, is one of the ways you make a first impression as a writer.
If we receive a 133-page script, we may suspect there’s a focus problem or that the writer hasn’t edited and tightened their work. But honestly, if I’m reading 133 pages of a great script, I am not an unhappy camper!
If a screenplay is 83-pages, we might guess that the story and/or writing is thin and perhaps the writer hasn’t dug deep enough. It’s also possible that the script is too lean because there’s more in the writer’s head than is on the page.
If you turn in a 153-page script, you look like a green writer who is unaware of industry fundamentals. You absolutely cannot fool us with cheating the margins and make that 153-page behemoth pass as a svelte 112. We can instantly tell when formatting is off. Don’t fudge it.
Each word counts by leanly painting a rich picture. Each character counts by serving a significant function in the story and supporting the theme. Each scene counts by advancing plot and revealing character – preferably both. Each effective twist or intriguing reveal delights our story-loving brains. Each time conflict escalates you’re adding tension and heightening the stakes. Every time your story creates a visceral reaction in us, you’re drawing us in.
These are the things you should be “counting” before sending your script out.
Why? Because size DOESN’T matter when the writing is strong and the story is compelling.
Ah, the Internet. The heck with sliced bread – this is the most incredible invention of our lifetime! I wouldn’t dream of writing an article or blog without Wikipedia and Thesaurus.com open in my browser. Plus Facebook for when I need a bit of distraction.
But it is also the most effective way to spread misinformation known to humankind. Writers aiming to break in are especially susceptible. Hungry for information, the secret formula to gain entry to the insular world that is the film business, they will cling to anything that promises to get them in the door.
In this electronic age, the endless debate over two brads or three has finally, thankfully become irrelevant. It was a massive waste of time and energy. If, by chance you are still pondering this, see my ScriptMag.com article “Does This Script Make Me Look Fat?” under “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff, Sweat the Small Stuff.”
But there’s plenty floating out there in cyberspace that is sheer folly. Or worse, harmful.
Busting these screenwriting myths fills me with glee. I hope it saves you time that could be better spent coming up with great ideas or strengthening your script.
Is crafting a logline making you tear your hair out in frustration? While loglines can be challenging, there’s not need for them to drive you crazy.
Apparently there’s a rumor going around that loglines must be no longer than 25 words. I’ve also heard 27. This happens to be the most current and most insidious myth out there.
Writers are spending time and energy struggling to stick to a rule someone made up that I’d never heard of in 25 years in the business. I’ve since heard rumblings that 25 word bloglines should include one comma. Then I heard two. Seriously? Do you think we have the time to count words? We’re looking for ideas for movies!
This kind of misinformation hurts writers. Perhaps whoever got this ridiculous ball rolling will be offended. Great! Let’s kick up a lot of noise about this one because, even if it was well intentioned, it’s wrong, wrong, wrong and deserves to be dead and buried.
Because of this myth, I’ve received queries with loglines I simply couldn’t figure out. The loglines were so brief and vague they left me with more questions than answers.
In one case, I could see there was a little something intriguing in this itty bitty logline, but it was so thin I couldn’t get the story. In the other, the writer failed on so many counts that I was bewildered as to what the script was about.
One of the baffling 25 word loglines – which despite its brevity managed to include a grammatical error – left me with at least 50 words of questions. I sent them to the writer. To clarify, he added a single word. I still couldn’t figure out who the hero was or what was going on and asked more questions. Finally, he relented and gave me two sentences that more or less made sense. At least I could figure out what the story was about.
Want proof? You be the judge.
When a gigantic great white shark begins to menace the small island community of Amity, a police chief, a marine scientist and grizzled fisherman set out to stop it. (via IMDb)
Horror. When a Great White shark terrorizes a quiet New England beach community, the town’s police chief must overcome his fear of the water and join forces with a grizzled shark hunter and an oceanographer to hunt it down to save the town.
Which version is visceral?
Which includes extraneous information?
Which is the most effective in giving you a sense of the story?
Which communicates the tone of the film? Which has unnecessary adjectives?
Which makes it clear who the hero is?
Which conveys the stakes?
Which logline would make you most likely to ask to read the script out of a stack of hundreds of queries?
There is really only one Logline Law – clearly convey the story in a way that makes it compelling and expresses what the movie feels like. If you don’t do that, you fail.
And no loglines without genres ever!
There was a freaky myth a few years back that in order to make your script a “fast read,” cut out all of the articles – no “a’s,” “and’s,” and “the’s” in the entire script. This destroys the reading experience making it a sentence-by-sentence struggle. Next cut all extraneous words, aiming for the lowest page count possible.
I was in the unique position to have read two different versions of the same script, first pre-tightening and then after following this advice. The story was set in an idiosyncratic small town and filled with charmingly quirky characters and focused on a zany romance. The offbeatness was central to the story and gave the piece its own unique appeal. In the first version I enjoyed the writing and the read.
The second version came to me as a mentor at the awesome CineStory Screenwriting Retreat. As one of this writer’s mentors, I would be spending an hour and a half with him in a constructive conversation about his script. I set out to read it again. This version was much shorter, well under 100 pages. The writing was thin. The story flat. The town and characters, colorless. It wasn’t an enjoyable reading experience. What happened?
The moment I sat down with the writer, this was the first question I asked. He admitted to having read somewhere online (red flag!) that cutting out all the extraneous words would make a script a “fast read.” What was left had virtually no articles – the “a” “an” and “the’s” that are part of normal sentence construction.
And he had cut every adjective possible. Remember what I liked about the first version? Gone thanks to this Internet advice. No adjectives = no unique, quirky charm.
This is not the way to create a fast read. It’s not about words or even page count. A fast read is any script where you simply can’t wait to find out what happens next. When as a reader, you’re so intrigued you fly through the script, burning through the pages.