Just Effing Entertain Me

Diagnosing Your Script: The Charmin Effect

So I have read – oh gosh – a thousand scripts? Fifteen hundred? I have no idea anymore, I’ve stopped counting. These days I take it easy; I don’t read all that much, maybe 3 to 4 scripts a week. And more than ever, I realize the value of having another pair of eyes on a script. What to me is obvious – a weak complication, two-dimensional character or front-loaded script – to you is a nagging mystery until I point it out. Because after spending so much time with one script, you can’t see the forest for the trees. And I don’t blame you.

The only thing I have that you don’t have is perspective and a thousand scripts under my belt. I have not stared at your script day in and day out for six months. I have not lived with your characters. I am like a doctor. I sit your script down on the exam table and I look at what’s there in the here and now. And it might hurt juuuust a little. Close your eyes if you don’t like needles or a whack on the knee. But I always send my patients back home with a lollypop and a smile.

It takes a lot of courage to go to the doctor. We all want to get a clean bill of health. But people come to The Script Department because they have a weird itch, limp or rash and they don’t know why. We all want to hear we’re going to be fine and that there’s nothing we have to change or worry about. We all want to hear that if we take the doctor’s advice, we WILL win the marathon or gold medal. But the doctor can make no guarantees. Only diagnose and send you home with a prescription.

If I had to name the most common script problems I see, the problems I point out over and over and over each week, I would have to say The Charmin Effect.

DIAGNOSIS of the CHARMIN EFFECT
Soft character arcs, soft premise and soft structure.

What does “soft” mean, exactly? It means that there’s too much subtlety in whichever element. As we are all aware, in real life, things are often complex and multi-layered and things almost never resolve neatly. Complications and reversals can land on us like a ton of bricks or they can accrete over time. In real life we muddle through our problems and we are quite good at not allowing anything to force us to change. Some of us literally never change.

In the movies, however, audiences crave resolution, for one thing, and they need to see things writ large. Now, of course there is a difference between character arc in a movie like THE SAVAGES and in a movie like THE MUMMY; you have to service your genre appropriately.

Soft premise, soft character and soft structure – these things are all related. It’s all the same problem. Not going BIG enough. Put it another way: not enough going on in the premise to warrant a whole feature script, passive main character and complications and act breaks which don’t move the story forward in a significant way. This all combines to create a boring script, or the BOSH script – bunch of stuff happens. Kiss of death, my friends. Flat line on the monitor.

CAUSE
A soft premise is the result of fear of conflict not really thinking the premise all the way through. Writers get stuck in their heads sometimes and tell a story which has mild emotional and usually autobiographical interest to them but not to anyone else. A woman inherits a house from her grandmother and learns that like her grandmother, she loves photography. Wha-? Movies are about conflict. Major conflict. Movies are uncomfortable and filled with tension. In real life most of us avoid conflict like the plague. But the movies are centered on it. Writing a script is a time to scrap being polite, proper or careful. Movies are conflict.

Newer writers are too easy on their characters because they model them too closely after themselves or people they know. But your character is not you or a friend – a character is a symbol that represents Jealousy, Power, Innocence, Betrayal, Justice or Heartbreak. Writers are often loathe to be too hard on their characters. They like them too much to give them a meaningful, active flaw. They start them out pretty nice and they wind up nicer. Characters must have an arc of change and they can’t wind up changed if they started out pretty okay in the first place. Something has to be majorly amiss in your character on page one. Not a little amiss like they are shy and want a date. That’s boring. We all want a date. Go. Bigger.

Soft structure is bound, hand and foot to soft premise and soft character arcs. You cannot separate these three elements. If you’re too soft on your characters, the turning points and complications will be soft too. Your pages will just blur in to one another with nothing significant moving the story forward. And you wind up with a script with the consistency, color and flavor of oatmeal instead of a script with the consistency, color and flavor of paella.

THE CURE
Don’t avoid conflict – seek it out. Take the gloves off. Don’t be so polite and so careful. Writing is a down and dirty occupation and don’t let anybody tell you any different.

Write down your premise line. Do you have an antagonist? A crux of CONFLICT, major turning points and a big sacrifice or choice the main character will have to make? Stare at your premise line. Is it going to get anyone outside your immediate family excited? Does it have a hook and a unique concept?

It takes courage to Go Big in your script. Writers are afraid to really think bigger and sometimes they are too lazy to do the work. That’s right, I said it. Too lazy. Where is the backstory for your character? Where is the outline for your script? Where is the killer logline that you should have worked out before you started writing the script? Laziness, timidity and a loathing to really put your characters through the wringer is the reason that the word “soft” would apply to so many scripts.

I know most writers don’t have the access to read a thousand scripts in order to gain the perspective that lends a person. But you have the Rouge Wave and a million other resources. Ask yourself if you’re really writing about conflict, change and catharsis. Not kind of – but truly.

Watch movies that are in any way similar to your script idea. Push the pause button when you think you spot a major complication. Look at the timer on your dvd player – notice that it’s right about 10, 25 and 50 minutes into the movie that these things happen? Gain some cajones, Wavers – are you writing about conflict or are you writing about CONFLICT? Are you being too easy on your main character? Is your premise SERIOUSLY worth several million dollars to make? Who would the audience be for this movie? You and your family? Or millions of people all around the world?

Writers who are unafraid to really go there – whether in the premise and in the execution or whether that means going to the doctor to find out how they did – are writers who have a million times more chance of actually having a writing career than a writer who is stuck in his or her head, too timid and too vacuum-sealed to get outside perspective and to push their characters harder and further than they thought possible – or nice – or convenient.

It’s up to you whether you take the cure. We are not all getting in shape for a sprint here, that’s the good news. This is a marathon. So you’ve made some mistakes. So what. It’s never too late to get it together so you can really compete with the thousands of scripts that flood into Hollywood every single day.

Bigger, better, faster, more. It’s the way of the movies.

Sweat the Small Stuff

I hate to sound like a school marm. I do. I’m a fun person. And I’m not a stickler in life. If my dinner order is pretty hot but not piping hot, I don’t send it back. If someone cuts me off in traffic, I give them the benefit. If there’s sand on my sheets from the beach, I shake it out and sweep up the next day. Anyone who knows me knows that I am in fact diplomatic to a fault. Very little upsets me, very little irks me.

But lately unproofread scripts are driving me nuts. Maybe it’s because I’m viewing things through a new lens – that of a possible manager. See – even now, I can’t quite commit by using a stronger, more declarative statement. Okay let’s just say I’m strongly toying with the idea to the point that I have taken on one client and am mildly, curiously looking for more. Maybe. If I read a great script.

But in the day to day I’m still the mama of The Script Department. And in that capacity, I read at least one script daily. And I read pretty fast. I like to settle down with a cup of coffee and immerse myself in a script without interruptions. I don’t sit near my computer, I don’t answer the phone. I give each script my full attention.

I always have a pen nearby, to circle problems or leave notes for myself. The little things – spelling, grammar, logic questions, etc., I note directly on that particular page. The big problems I scribble on the title page. So I might have Big Notes that say: scene work. character arcs. structure. soft premise.

Lately, I have been circling a whole lot of little problems on pages. Dialogue that does not end with a punctuation mark. Errant commas. Characters names all-capped throughout the script or not done at all. Missing ages for characters. Misspells, malaprops. Sheek for chic, peer for pier, your for you’re, to for too.

And every time I have to stop reading to circle those problems, my read is interrupted. I am taken out of the story for a nanosecond. And that irks me. Because I need to be in the flow of the story. And if I pause for one nanosecond for every error but I do that six times on almost every page – pretty soon my focus on the story itself starts to fade.

Production company readers slam the writer for these types of sloppy, lazy errors. I note the problem to a client but of course, I am not about slamming, just knuckle rapping. Why my clientele feels a good proofread is not necessary when sending to me, I don’t know. I think they figure that they’ll be rewriting the script anyway, since they’re getting notes so the small stuff doesn’t matter. But it does. It lowers my estimation of the writer – just a tiny bit. And, more importantly, it distracts me from the story. If a writer keeps making the same punctuation mistakes over and over, you’d think you could stop circling them and just make one overall comment that they need to proofread. That would do the trick. But – I can’t help but circle them. Every time I read a your for you’re I cringe. It’s a tick that most readers have. It bugs us. It bugs us A LOT.

When your script is read, you really want the reader to be totally focused on your story and your characters. Proofreading isn’t for perfectionists or bookish types, it’s a gateway to a smooth read. How valuable are receiving notes that are mini-lessons in contractions, comma usage or proper punctuation? Aren’t you more interested in receiving notes about character arc, dialogue and structure? Isn’t that the top priority? It is for me, as a story analyst. But proper grammar, punctuation and spelling are the delivery system for your story.

Imagine watching a television show and every 3 seconds, you see something wrong – a prop that keeps switching, a costume change, a stumble over dialogue. Pretty soon, that’s all you see – not the story itself. And imagine the producers of the show saying – yeah, yeah, ignore those details, just get into the story, man!

The details need to be right in order for the story to shine. Why, just last week I read a script in which the writer didn’t bother to end lines of dialogue with punctuation marks throughout about 50% of the script. Missing periods and missing question marks. It amazes me that this is something one would not notice.

To me, missing punctuation marks are glaring red neon signs I don’t know where the sentence ends I can’t tell if the line of dialogue was meant to be a question or a statement and the repeated use of the same repeated words which repeat again and again is distracting because pretty soon I just see the repeated words standing out highlighted against the rest of the words and this bothers me do you see what I mean

These tiny interruptions are anathema to a reader and death for a writer. Interestingly, as I have noted in the past, I have never read a great script with these problems. I have read great scripts with one or two mistakes – but not consistent problems on every page. Every page. Can you imagine?

Please take the time to proofread. And at least as importantly, take the time to write properly in the first place. I know that writers might be writing quickly, on the fly (on the subway, late at night, at a café) but taking the time to write well in the first place will save you a lot of errors. And always proofread before submitting your script to anyone. My job is not to slam scripts and give them a cold and brutal PASS. My job is to find out what is working and what is not and to help the writer take the script to the next level so that when it is read by a production company, agent or manager the writer has literally put his or her best foot forward. It makes my job a lot harder and less efficient if I have six things circled on every page. Treat me the way you would treat any other producer, manager or agent.

Lately, when I read scripts, I have a subtextual agenda. Is this a writer that I might want to manage? Is this the comedy I have been looking for? Is this an opportunity for me to make a valuable connection between the writer and somebody else? But if my read is herky jerky and peppered with interruptions, if the writer was too lazy or too hurried to use punctuation properly, if the writer consistently uses the language poorly – there’s no way in HELL I’d work with them beyond these notes.

So if you’re thinking about submitting a script to The Script Department for notes, please do a better job of proofreading. I have had a batch of scripts lately, peppered with tiny, very fixable errors. What if I personally read your script? What if I am looking for a great comedy right now? Full disclosure: I am. My readers will simply note the error and get you the notes. I will note the errors, get you your notes and then make a tiny mental note: this writer is lazy and sloppy – down the bad egg chute you go.

Every single person who reads your script in this industry is a possible new fan of you and your work. You never know where that can lead. I can’t say it enough times – never send a script to anyone before you have gone over with a fine-tooth comb. You never know. This script could open doors and create connections. This script could get you an enthusiastic fan. Don’t give us any excuse to write you off as a lazy writer. Pretty please?

Now get back to work.

Anger Management

When was the last time you got really angry? You know what I mean, that white-hot lightning bolt that runs up your spine and explodes in your head? That star-spangled-symphony of what-the-HELLness that feels so very goooood until the aftermath?

It is rare – quite rare – maybe one out of 100, that I get complaints about notes received by one of my clients. Questions, yes, dialogue of course, brainstorming, conversation – all of the above. But once in a blue moon we get someone so irate that the notes are called “a joke” and then the complainer lustily declares he/she will be notifying their lawyer. One of the benefits of getting older is that, especially when I hear the lawyer thing, I feel a sense of absolute calm, and usually I smile sympathetically. Aw. You’re upset. I understand. I really do. But if you want to work in Hollywood – dude, get a grip.

I had two totally different experiences this week. One angry email as vaguely described above, and another client who had a phone consultation with yours truly who was the most amazingly receptive, creative and on-the-ball writer. One writer thought the notes and suggestions were “a joke” – the other took the notes and suggestions and ran down the field like a star quarterback with all sorts of interesting solutions. Which writer do you think has a better shot at a career in Hollywood?

Now mind you, both writers paid for their notes. Natch. This is my business. So taking notes in a meeting with an executive is not identical to taking notes you paid to receive. However, I think the ability to handle notes is a skill set that is crucial in either situation. The first thing I do when I get a complaint is to reread the notes – I do only a small percentage of the reading at The Script Department. So I revisit what my reader said and I look carefully to be sure I find a positive lead-in, specific notes and suggestions (where possible; sometimes the problems are so generalized that the notes may include a general overview of executing a specific story element or three), an organized and thorough approach and a positive summary comment.

I am famously picky about my readers. Ask them. I never hire anyone without a lot of experience and a real gift for giving notes. I have yet had to slap the hand of one of my readers. Wait – that’s not true, I have had to hand-slap ONCE for a coverage that was too generous on a script that I later read and was full of problems. I will reprimand a reader for being too encouraging when the script is undeserving. Why? Because now the writer got notes that are not genuinely reflective of the condition of the script and the writer will be set up for walloping disappointment when nobody else (i.e., someone in the industry) responds as positively. Being too sweet is ripping someone off, in my view.

But there are some who can’t handle the truth. So much so that angry emails to me result. I don’t mind, it doesn’t upset me – but I do feel bad for the writer. Because I understand, intimately so, how it feels to receive notes that are less positive than the writer had hoped. Boy do I know that feeling. I’m not the type, personally, who hits the ANGER button reflexively when I do not like something – I tend toward more passive dismay and depression.

It is a profound bummer, to understate it wildly, when something you have worked so hard on apparently isn’t working according to some jackass. But that’s the thing – I (and by proxy, my readers) am not some jackass. And I have no personal investment in making a writer feel bad.

As Eleanor Roosevelt once said – no one can make you feel anything. Okay I’ve butchered that, I’m sure she said something much more elegant but you get the gist. If you feel upset about something, the tripwire may have been external, but the anger is generated by your own insecurity, fear and disappointment.

Anger is generally born of fear. Where WERE you!! (my god, you could have been hurt!) How could you CHEAT on me! (oh my god, you’re leaving me! I’ll be alone!) You CUT ME OFF in traffic! (christ, I could have had an accident and been hurt) He’s SUCH a jerk! (he told one of my secrets to someone else – I’m humiliated!) Your notes are a JOKE! (oh shit, my writing/script isn’t as good as I thought. I suck. I’ll never make it….no….it’s NOT MY FAULT, it’s YOUR FAULT) See that progression from depression and self-blame to the externalization and transmogrification of the same feeling into outward blame? It can’t be that my script is troubled – it MUST then be that YOU are a jerk and have ripped me off!!

Ahhhh. Nope. The truth hurts. But it doesn’t have to. The ironic thing is that in the case of this particularly inflamed writer, the script really isn’t in that bad a shape. And the notes reflect that. So this is a writer with a particularly sensitive tripwire. Nothing I can do about that.

Two things: the next time you get angry about something – anything – stop and notice, if you can (and it’s hard) the way your feelings pinball around inside of you searching to externalize what is essentially internal. My job, my money, my girlfriend, my script – my loss, my hurt, my humiliation, my threat – YOUR FAULT. Because sometimes, even briefly, it’s just easier to imagine that the problem lies outside of oneself. Right? I think we’ve all been there. Some of us are just more stuck there than others.

It’s not often, as you age, when you begin to holds books further away in order to see clearly, when something in your knee is clicking, when 50 suddenly doesn’t seem like an unlikely age to hit, that you are thankful for your age and experience. But on this topic particularly, I’m glad I’m where I’m at. Very little upsets me anymore. I guess I’ve been through too much for that. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not above negative feelings. If you know me well, you know I’ve had my challenges. I’m just wired to go to the depression place rather than externalize. I once read somewhere that depression is rage directed inward. Huh. Maybe. But more than that, I understand on a deep level that we are here on this earth to play and to experience. And I’d rather feel good. I’d rather find forgiveness, understanding, grace and healing than to scream and shout and feel horrible.

But I do feel bad and sympathetic, when that rare writer goes ballistic rather than calmly accepting notes – tossing the ones that just don’t feel right and embracing the ones that really click with something. In a very difficult business which feels so very personal – what do you mean they don’t want MY SCRIPT? – it is a gift and a blessing to be able to be circumspect.

Breathe it out, learn to collaborate, cooperate and not take things personally. The number one entity here is THE STORY. Not you, not your ego, not your insecurities – but the script.

That is all. If you live in LA, enjoy this blessed peppering of much needed rain and to Wavers all over the world – and you are legion – have a cupcake and get back to work.

The Awful Truth

Do you ever do that thing – you’re at a party or otherwise loud location and someone you don’t really know very well is earnestly telling you something and you’re listening – or really trying to, in order to be polite and possibly catch something interesting or useful in the conversation…but you can’t quite hear the person and aren’t quite following what they are saying? So you nod politely at what seem like appropriate moments and when the conversation is over, pray that you are never put on the spot about what that conversation was just about?

You know that feeling? And while you’re listening to this person you are desperately looking for a way OUT of the conversation but also making bullet points in your head about what they are saying: soccer…fishing trip…daughter (oh damn, was that son?)…some law firm…some type of law…

We all do it. We learn to half-listen because we’d rather be somewhere else. And we learn to fake our way through those obligatory conversations in case there’s a pop quiz.

But – does it ever happen to YOU? Are you ever the person earnestly speaking that someone else is trying to extricate themselves from? What a horrible thought!! No, that could never happen to me – I’m fascinating! This is something that happens to other saps! Even in the briefly described scenario above, you pictured yourself as the clever person trying to both synopsize and escape – NOT the poor slob going on and on about a soccer team fishing trip with her son. Right? Of course you did.

But what if that not only was you – what if that was your script. As you. But a script. A script with arms and legs and a funny hat.

I have read several projects this week that even alone, in my favorite cozy reading spot, got me very confused. Jimmy, Kenny, Debby, Suzy – huh? I have to flip back a few pages. Which one is Jimmy? OH RIGHT, the one who just got out of prison. And – why are we in this cafe in this scene? Flip back. Um….what’s going on here? Flip back. Flip forward. I’m confused. The character’s voices are blurring together and the action is not clear. What is happening here? Like the person at the party, I am leaning into it, trying to listen carefully – I’m not going to walk away, I HAVE to give this script my best. But I’m having a hard time following along.

Guys, if this is your script, you have a massive problem. Because an executive does not have to listen or follow along. They get to just chuck your script and move on. Think of me as your pre-executive vetting pal. Do NOT wear that dress, it makes you look fat. Stop going on and on about your kids. Look alive, make gestures, spice up this conversation a little bit. Because there’s a lot of other people at this party and you’re not holding my attention.

Hollywood is brutal. If you can’t hold someone’s attention almost immediately, they move on without apology. So how do you know if your script is a jumbled mess with confusing pages? What seems like pure genius to you might be a rambling mess to someone else.

Short of getting notes and feedback from someone like me, which is honestly your best option, here’s a fun little exercise. We all try so hard not to be rude, right? Give your script to a friend (ideally one who has read at least one other script) and give them carte blanche to be rude. Not tear into you or the script – I don’t mean that. I mean tell them, at exactly the point at which you got confused or bored – STOP right there and tell me so. Don’t embellish, don’t apologize, don’t be nice, just tell me. On page 14, I lost the plot. That’s the exact scene in which I gave up trying to understand.Reassure your friend, spouse, writing group – that you can handle this feedback. Don’t you want total honesty? For real? Someone being nice to you won’t in any way be an equivalent to how your script will be handled in Hollywood.

When I was coaching writers on their pitches at the Fade in Pitch Fest, I was politely rude. With a purpose. When a writer lost me, I stopped them right there and said you know what, I stopped listening to you about a minute ago. I started thinking about what I’m going to have for lunch. Let’s rewind the tape and find that faulty spot in your pitch and see what we can do to amp it up.

Diagnose your script and problem solve. Are your characters not distinct enough to stand out as individuals? Do more character work. Are your scenes not moving the story forward and establishing stakes? Revisit your scene work and your character work. What is your character’s overarching goal? What is at stake? Does this scene jump in late and get out early? Are your scene locations generic? Look at your action lines.

I know that more and more lately, whenever I allude to problematic scripts, the latest clients I have had who read the Rouge Wave say – omg! Were you talking about MY script? You were, weren’t you! To which I say of course I was. And of course I was not. I always compress scripts into one example, hybrid script to discuss.

Because guess what – if you got notes back recently that said your structure isn’t working or that there isn’t any tension in your narrative, you are probably one of ten scripts this week that got that note. Because those problems are sadly not unique at all. So relax, take a deep breath and know that no specific script would ever, ever get discussed on the Rouge Wave. It’s weird to think that although you thought your script and your premise was totally unique – it isn’t. And the issues in your script are also not unique. So if I mention a coming-of-age script that I read this week – it could be one of three that either I or one of my readers read. Weird, huh? For everyone of you that is writing a coming-of-age script, there are umpteen others writing them as well. Not just read by my company, god knows, but being read all over town. And that’s your competition – did someone else write a coming-of-age script set in a more interesting era? With a more unique main character? With a killer hook? Then, in this great Candy Land Game of Life – they will win.

Put your script into context. You are definitely not the only writer with a western, sci-fi, quarrantine-related love story. You just aren’t. I know – I never would have believed it either until I started reading scripts day in and day out. On the one hand, personally, it puts me in the cat bird seat – I have seen it all. I have industry connections, I have tons of up-and-coming writer friends and a couple of established, very successful writer friends. I know what’s out there. On the other hand, when it come to my own writing, it’s a bit paralyzing.

That’s the trick, isn’t it? To stay motivated but also to have that reality check. Look at your logline and just know that there are ten other scripts being read right now, with a similar logline. Bank on it. So – how will your script be competitive?

Do a reality check on whether your script is really attention-grabbing. Ask a friend you trust to be absolutely honest with you about where it became a problem on your pages. It is far, far better to know the truth about your script now and to do the work necessary to bring it up to par, than it is to know that your script just got tossed in the circular file because of it. What may be fascinating, moving and entertaining to YOU may not have that effect on someone else. Check in with your script. And be ready to hear the truth. You’d rather hear the truth from me or from a friend than the thud of your script hitting the recycling bin, believe me. Because once it hits that bin, you just got ejected from the game.

StoryLink Ezine

So I have recently begun writing a monthly column in the StoryLink Ezine under the “Insider’s Corner”. That’s the category not my pen name. Although a pen name, something like Liberty Van Readsalot is something I have toyed with.

I thought I’d reprint the article which just came out today, here on the Rouge Wave, even thought this is stuff we’ve talked about many a time:

Question:
“I’m considering having my screenplay read by a script consultant, but I’m not sure how the rating system works. How will I know if my script is good enough to get passed along to agents and production companies?”

Production company script coverages use a fairly standard ratings grid with about four main categories: storyline, characterization, dialogue, and premise. Storyline refers to the execution and style of your narrative. In other words: Is your structure in good shape? Is the pacing brisk and compelling? etc. Characterization refers to whether your characters are unique, organic, and believable. The Dialogue category rates original, organic, and effective dialogue writing. Premise rates whether the central idea itself is fresh, unique, and compelling. Each category is given a rating, either “excellent”, “good”, “fair,” or “poor.” There are other categories the reader will also be looking for, such as theme, logic, world, tone, etc., but those are examined within the coverage rather than on the grid and only on a need-to basis.

Some private script consultants use variations of the standard grid. Other consultants may not use a grid at all, favoring giving notes by category in a looser, more free-form way. At The Script Department we not only use a grid, we have two additional categories: “Professional appearance” and “Readiness for market.” The grid is for the writer’s use and we want to provide a bit more detail than a production company grid, since we work for the writer not the production company.

Most production companies will rarely, rarely give an “excellent” or “poor” rating to any category since extremes are avoided in either direction. But a “fair” rating is the new “poor” in the sense that it’s not a rating you want to get. Most private script consultants also avoid those extremes since “excellent” cannot guarantee your success with the script and nobody wants to get an irate, confused client who doesn’t understand why an “excellent” rating did not translate to a sale or option. The truth is, because this is Hollywood and nobody knows anything, an “excellent” may not make things happen for you anyway. But it’s a pretty good jumping off point and indicator. At The Script Department, we use “rethink” instead of “poor”; it’s just a little nicer on the ol’ ego. A spoonful of sugar and all that.

It’s tricky to know, when using a private consultant, where you really stand. If you receive low ratings on your grid, and copious notes pointing out what is not working, you can pretty much rest assured that you and your script are not quite there yet. By there yet, I mean truly on a competitive level with scripts out there being given serious consideration. If, on the other hand, you receive high ratings and an enthusiastic response from your consultant about the originality of your script, about your unique voice and compelling premise, you can be pretty sure you’ve got something good on your hands because consultants have seen it all.

A consultant has zero to gain by being disingenuous about your script. Most consultants, myself included, tread the fine line between being encouraging but realistic. But when we love a script – we just about fly out of our seats with joy. So gauge the enthusiasm of your response as well as the marks on your grid knowing that nobody would like you to succeed more than that consultant. Why? Because if your script really does rock and you make a sale, win a competition or otherwise gain accolades with the script, the consultant will wear that success like a badge of honor. If the consultant loves your script and thinks it’s ready for agents, managers, or producers, you’ll not only know it quickly, you’ve probably just found yourself a mentor, cheerleader, and enthusiastic coach in the process. Consultants and competitive writers have a symbiotic, mutually beneficial relationship, in other words.

If your consultant does not go nuts over your script, take that as your clue that they do not feel you are quite ready for prime time. Some consultants will bluntly tell you what they think, others will be far more flattering than the script deserves as a way of making the writer happy. Most consultants, even when they have bad news, couch it in subtext and/or tread lightly on the fact that the script is not so hot. It is a coping mechanism; not only is it quite unpleasant to have to tell a writer their script is not good, there are writers out there who fly off the handle in a huge way when they do not like what they hear. It’s an unpleasant reality of being a script consultant, as awful as it is rare. So seasoned consultants make sure their notes are professional, honest and plainly stated.

If you choose to use a script consultant, caveat emptor – buyer beware. Make sure your consultant has great testimonials and experience. Ask if you can talk to a couple past clients. Good word of mouth is crucial. Make sure the costs are what you can reasonably afford. And be certain you are ready to hear the truth about your script.

Being a script consultant is a business. But being a great script consultant is an art — a great consultant is a teacher, a cheerleader, and an honest big brother or sister. You want someone who will tell you the truth in a way that you can digest. A good consultant will be honest with you because to allow you to labor under an illusion is irresponsible. But there are ways to be honest that are more genteel than others. If your consultant is complete sunshine and roses about your script, ask them to put their money where their mouth is – do they know someone who might be interested in reading your script? If your consultant is bluntly rude in the name of “that’s what it’s really like out there in Hollywood” – you’re working with the wrong consultant.

No, Hollywood is not really a place where people will tell you that you stink to your face. The loudest condemnation is an unreturned phone call. So do not fall for a consultant who claims he or she will tell you the “brutal truth” for your own good, when in fact this is a person who is probably burnt out and not enamored with writers anymore. Again, you will get no more good out of a consultant who is Mary Sunshine and who overstates where you and your script are. Go for someone right in the middle; honest but kind. Consultants are always on the look out for writers who just might be another feather in the cap. The most important element here is: Are YOU ready to hear the truth about your script?

Rating the Writer

As many Wavers are aware, I am teaching a Reader Correspondence Course. Quite a number of people have already signed up and are diligently doing their homework. I thought it might be fun to excerpt a section on how readers rate writers:

Rating the Writer

Many production companies want a rating for the writer as well as the project. In this way, they can keep on file “consider” or “recommend” writers when they are looking for assignment writers. How is it possible to have a “consider” writer but a “pass” project? Easy. A “consider” writer has chops. Voice. Style. It’s just that this particular project is not a fit for the company at this time. Making a decision between a “pass” or “consider” writer isn’t too tough. “Pass” writers are those with dull, pedantic writing. “Pass” writers don’t get structure. They didn’t entertain you on the page. They didn’t even have a very exciting idea in the first place.

Now: just because a writer has some typos here and there is absolutely no reason to “pass” the writer. You have to use your judgment; if the story is really compelling (even if it’s a “pass” for this company) but here and there you found some typos, ignore that in favor of the story telling. If, however, typos and language usage is a mess all over the place, you’ll find that the story is affected because of it. The two are linked at a certain point. A writer who cannot use the language well is not given to being able to tell a story well either.

When rating the writer, the main question you are answering is: should a project come up, should this writer be considered for the work? Can this guy or gal write well? If you give the writer a “consider” are you willing to back that up if asked to explain that rating? Be prepared to back up every rating you give on a script or on a writer. Your hiney = in a sling. Rate the writer accordingly.

Reading Correspondence Course

Have you ever thought of becoming a professional script reader? Or perhaps as an aspiring screenwriter, you’d like to have the inside track on just how scripts are analyzed in Hollywood. Either way, this self-paced Reader Correspondence course may be just the thing for you.

Week one:
Overview of the Job Description
Job Expectations
11 Things You Better Know Right Now
Understanding the Grid Categories
Off grid Categories
The Language and Tone of Coverage Reports

Includes: three sample coverages

Homework: watch 3:10 to YUMA, LEGALLY BLONDE and HOT FUZZ.

Write a logline for each.
Write a brief description of the theme of each, the character arc for the main character, who the antagonist is and what the first act break, second act break and midpoint were within the story.

Week two:
The Reader’s Oath: No Harm, No Foul, No Lies
Tenets of Being a Good reader
Rating the Writer
Rating the Project
The Shape and Structure of a Coverage

Homework:
Read two scripts; provide recommendations for the project and the writer, one page of comments.

Week three:
Writing the Synopsis
Sample Synopses

Homework: provide loglines and synopses for two sample scripts.

Week four:
Writing the Full Coverage
Speed and Efficiency; Tricks of the Trade
Finding Reading Work; Accumulating Samples

Homework: Timed reading of two scripts.

FINAL EXAM

Provide full coverage for three scripts including a 2 page synopsis and 1 1⁄2 pages of comments. Rate the writer and the project.

Passing the final exam with flying colors will earn you a letter of recommendation from The Script Department as an entrée to potential reading jobs.

The cost of the class is $575 and includes feedback and notes on your progress throughout.

From the Mailbag

Dear Wave-inatrix:

Do you find being a writer yourself difficult when being a reader? I know it would seem to make it easier, but it’s always worried me even applying to jobs with “coverage” as one of your duties because I always think I would sit there reading scripts and if I came across one similar to mine not be fair to the script, because I’m writing one similar….and that’s not fair to the writer. I wouldn’t purposely try to do this, but it seems really hard to not become biased. So I guess my question is how do you separate you the writer from you the reader to give people fair coverage?
-Curious in Culver City

Dear Curious. Dear, dear Curious. Interesting question. In the years I have been a reader, at competitions, production companies, script service providers and my own company, I have never, ever run across a script anything like what I am personally writing at the moment. Same genre? Sure. But nothing close enough where I thought oh damn, I’m going to PASS this script because it’s too much like what I’m working on. Is that what you’re asking? I can’t imagine that happening, personally. In my business, in fact, I am actively looking for a GREAT script and a GREAT writer because of my previously noted unicorn philosophy but also because a great writer is someone I can try to help break into the industry and that is only good for my business. But. Again. There are different types of situations in which you might be reading and providing coverage.

Let’s just take your average reader working for me. Someone not invested in much more than doing a good job and receiving a paycheck to support his or her own writing.

Providing coverage is something that is a bit mathematical at the end of the day. The script is analyzed by certain standards. And because in this instance, I am the boss, my readers are held to certain standards as well. I read and review every coverage that comes through my company before sending it to the writer. I have never, ever, ever had to call a reader on the carpet for anything other than perhaps being too nice, ironically. See my post the other day about being honest in coverage – even if it stings some. It’s about ethics for me. Readers are intrinsically fair and unbiased when doing coverage because of the mathematical nature of the evaluation. When you put your reader hat on you slip into a different mode, sort of like putting a stethoscope around your neck. It’s not about you, it’s about this script, right now. If I were to find a reader working for me who had clear bias in a coverage, that reader would be fired. But I employ only experienced readers, so for me, it’s never been a problem. Worst case, once or twice, I have had a reader be slightly too nice to the script. That can be a problem because the writer gets an over-inflated sense of where the script really is, they return it for another coverage with another reader and get worse notes after a rewrite and then all hell breaks loose. What?? The OTHER reader loved it! So I try to maintain a rather neutral standard. Just tell it like it is. But be nice doing it. No slamming. No bullshit.

I have been reading for years and I have never, ever read something and thought, oh, I’m going to rip that off! Or oh, that’s too much like my script, I’m going to slam this person! That would be foolish in the extreme.

A reader working at a production company has his or her job to take into consideration. Bias will show up in the work and reader jobs are coveted. It would be a stupid thing to do. But again – having worked for many production companies, I’ve never known a reader as unprofessional as to let personal bias into the notes. A side benefit of being a reader is that when you have a great script you’d like considered at that company, your reputation as a reliable, professional reader will pave the way for a read that goes something like this:

Reader: Mr. Big Executive that I’ve worked for two years for? Would you be interested in reading my script?

Big Executive: You know, Sally, you’re a great reader. I can count on you. You have good instincts. Sure. I’ll take it home this weekend.

Reader: I know this is not a guarantee but it’s pretty cool.

Big Executive: It sure is and don’t you forget it. But yeah, I’ll take a few minutes with this. You’ve done good work for me.

Then there are intern readers and super under-paid, over-worked assistants. I don’t think you’ll find professional jealousy bias there either. Maybe a little more cranky in the coverage by dint of the over-worked, under-paid thing but that’s about it.

I think bias can show up when the reader is reading something that they personally find really, really offensive – I personally do not read wannabe SAW or HOSTEL type scripts because I not only don’t have the stomach for the genre, I really don’t have the stomach for the genre written poorly. I pass those on to readers that I know do not care one way or the other. I don’t read scripts that contain over-the-top, shocking violence and especially violence toward women. I get very, very few scripts like that but when the SAW/HOSTEL genre was big, we did see an influx. My bias is simply revulsion and so I won’t go there. Ironically, I love reading a good horror script Love, love, love, love. It’s a matter of degree. When someone scrapes out the inside of a child’s skull and fills it with sorbet and eats it – I can’t read that without feeling personally violated.

Wow, that took a turn for the yuck. Anywho. Do readers have bias toward your scripts? Not a professional reader, they aren’t that invested. They just do their job quickly and efficiently. I think this is a fear that writers have, or some kind of rationale to make up for getting bad coverage – the reader wasn’t fair!!

Actually, being a reader, Curious, will do nothing but improve your own writing skills. Because you see it all and you see the patterns. Exercising the evaluative part of your brain over and over is like working out at the gym daily. You’re gonna get some big guns. And it will help your own writing. One thing you learn to identify very quickly is what is original and what is not. Original compared to what, right? To all the other 9,000 scripts you read that year. So when you work on a new idea yourself, you have seen all the other stuff that’s come in and you can be honest with yourself as to whether your idea and your writing is different from that of the hordes.

Reader bias is an urban myth, in my view. Yes, readers get tired, they might dislike the genre, they might really, really need a break or a coffee or a cocktail and don’t want to be reading your script. Does that make them cranky? Yeah. But if your script is good – you just absolutely made their day. The mood is lifted. Why, just yesterday, the Wave-inatrix was feeling quite low about something in my personal life and I got a rush script. On a Saturday night. Great. I had been planning a nice, extended self-pity party. But no. Hadda read this script. Except – it ROCKED. It lifted my mood, it entertained me thoroughly and it reaffirmed my love of the movies.

Had the script been awful would my mood have descended while I was reading it? No. Because even at worst, it’s a distraction. Sitting down to read is like doing a Sudoku or crossword puzzle. You became totally focused and immersed for that hour and a half. A good script might leave you feeling energized and cheered up afterward. A bad script leaves you drained and more cranky than you were before. But while you read, you slip into the Zen of reading and you just do your job.

The bottom line for writers is this: You cannot control who reads your script, their mood or their biases. You just have to trust the system and move on. No, not all readers are created equal. There are variances. But you can’t drive yourself crazy worrying about it. Good or bad, cranky or too nice, huge production company or small script service, readers do have one thing in common – we love good scripts.

The bottom line for readers is this: Do no harm. Look for good stuff. Do your job and do it well if you want to reap the benefits personally or professionally.

If you have the opportunity to learn how to provide coverage, it will be nothing but a good thing for you and your writing.

I hope I answered your question.

The Elegant Universe: Patterns in Writers

In my experience reading and analyzing scripts on a daily basis for the past several years, I have become very aware of patterns. I work with hundreds of writers. I attend screenwriting events. I am right in the thick of it. And like an ER doctor who has seen everything, I have pretty much seen it all. Things delight me – but nothing really surprises me anymore. Nobody likes to think that rather than being an individual, they are a statistic. But we are all statistics. Married, divorced, college-educated, not college-educated, white, black, Latino, Asian, middle child, youngest, employed, unemployed – there are patterns in society and they serve a purpose. They tell us who we are collectively – and individually. There are exceptions to every pattern and to every rule. But here are some patterns I have noticed, over and over again:

• Boastful, cock-sure writers usually don’t have very good scripts

• Shy, unsure writers anxious to get notes are more likely to have a good script

• Writers who can’t write good action lines have no “voice” yet

• Most beginning writers have no second act

• Most beginning writers think their idea is more original than it is

• Many writers, regardless of age, have not seen the classics

• Because a writer is a cinefile does not mean he or she is a good writer

• Fanboys do not necessarily make good writers; they are inspired but imitative

• Most writers with 133 page scripts do not have a handle on their story

• Many writers read too many how-to books and get totally confused

• Newer writers hate to kill their darlings and their pages are crowded with them

• Experienced writers hate to kill their darlings but do it before asked

• Clumsy, over-written action lines are the most accurate predictor of a bad script

• First time writers usually tell biographical stories

• Gory, ultra-violent horror is most often written by young men under the age of 25

• Dull romantic dramas are most often written by women over the age of 45

• Unfunny romcoms are most often written by young men under the age of 25

• Action scripts are almost always written by men of any age

• First time writers think their first script is brilliant

• Experienced writers will never show you their first script – ever

• Writers who use camera directions secretly want to direct

• Experienced female writers write well in any genre

• Inexperienced female writers often write about love

• Good characters never have bad dialogue

• Bad dialogue is never accompanied by good characters

• Structure is confusing for the first three scripts – then something clicks

• Writers who can’t articulate a quick logline have sprawling, confusing scripts

• Whether a writers is shy or charismatic has no bearing on the quality of writing

• Good writers never include pictures, maps or music with their script

• No new writer is realistic about breaking in to the business

• The location or gender of the writer has no bearing on the quality of the writing

• Age does not define an ability to come up with fresh ideas

• Most fresh ideas are in fact not fresh at all

• It takes a long time to understand “the same but different”

• Older writers most often write true or historical scripts

• Young male writers often imitate their favorite movies

• Female writers do not write American Pie or Harold and Kumar knock-offs

• Female writers are quite capable of writing great action but rarely do

• Divorcees often write about romance or revenge

• Most writers have not built up a good arsenal of scripts; all eggs are in one basket

• New writers think getting a rep is easy and will happen within a year or so

• Newly repped writers think their career will automatically take off in a huge way

• Experienced writers know they will go through many reps over time

• Younger writers often do not think send thank you notes when they get a read

• Older writers think Hollywood is more polite than it is

• Newer writers do not test their premises or write outlines properly

• Writers who regard themselves as writer-savants refuse to write what’s commercial – and may very well succeed after years of failure

• Writers who regard themselves as auteurs refuse to embrace that this is a sales job – and melt into a pool of bitter disillusionment and hate Hollywood thereafter

• Wealthy writers try to buy their way into the business using the most expensive software and consultants and melt into a bitter pool of outrage

• Writers with disposable incomes obsessively attend conferences and pitch fests more than they actually write

• Writers who cannot execute a script mechanically generally don’t have a good story

• Writers who have been disappointed over and over hate consultants or anything designed to help them succeed and nurse outraged, red-hot victim complexes

• First scripts suck

• Second scripts suck

• Third script suck a little less

• Writers with successful other careers feel entitled to success in Hollywood

• A writer’s determination to keep trying is in direct proportion to their talent

• Entitlement is in inverse proportion to talent

• Young writers think that Hollywood is only for the young

• Older writers think that Hollywood is only for the young

• Experienced writers know that Hollywood needs good stories and that a good story and being good in a room trumps age any day

• Talent is delightful and easy to spot on page one

• A bad script is a bad script from page one

There are exceptions to every single example I have given above, but in my experience and that of my colleagues, many of these observations are borne out again and again. Are you the exception to one of these patterns? Or do you see yourself in some of them? Seeing oneself in a pattern which may not be so positive is tough to do for anyone.

The truth about writing and breaking into this business lies somewhere in the grey space between all of these observations. For every single rule or pattern, there is an exception. But patterns are patterns for a reason; there is a learning curve when one becomes a screenwriter. And being a screenwriter, all on your own, in your basement or attic, leaves you with zero perspective. Those in the business know you very well though. We see the patterns of scripts and of writers. We see the patterns of success, failure, entitlement and determination.

You can potentially read this list and think – hey WAIT, I’m a 25 year old female whose first script is about stabbing that frat boy who cheated on me 28 times and my action lines suck and until this moment, I thought I’d have an agent by year end and sell this thing! Well – not so fast, right? Sometimes it’s good to look at yourself under a microscope. There’s so much to learn and so much that goes into this crazy pursuit – forgive yourself if you’ve fallen into a pattern. Awareness is the first step to recovery and an invaluable leg up to the next level of your evolution as a human being and a screenwriter. It’s okay to be part of a pattern – but is it the pattern you want to be part of?

Defining "good" and "bad"

PJ – can you explain the difference between good and bad notes? When you say bad notes do you mean notes that you don’t like or disagree with or do you mean notes that might be true but are delivered in such a way that it’s discouraging or hurtful? Or when you say bad notes do you mean notes that are just – bad. I often work with writers who are initially really surprised that the notes they got are not good – meaning, they thought the script was way better than it was. They are good notes in that they are valid, but there is much work to be done. I think a clarification of what you mean by “good” and “bad” in this context would be helpful. Not to be Semantic Sally, but when are bad notes legitimate? What’s the difference between good and bad outside of the perception of the recipient?

Miss Cupkcake, let me be perfectly clear: you may get notes that tear your script apart, you may get notes you violently disagree with, but it doesn’t make them “bad” notes if the notes are given in a consistent, logical, concise, constructive manner. “Bad” notes in the sense I mean are destructive and add no value to the script or help to the writer. For example, I recently got notes on a script about how the lead character, a pregnant woman, “constantly” drank coffee. First, she drank coffee in only one scene, and second, her drinking one cup or a thousand had no bearing on the plot or story whatsoever. I call this kind of note less than useful.

For Wavers interested in reading more about notes and how to deal with them emotionally and intellectually, here are some past Rouge Wave posts that may entertain and enlighten you:

Kick or Kiss – The Truth Hurts
Giving Feedback