Settle yourself into a comfy chair with your refreshing beverage of choice at the ready, because have I got quite a story for you. Hopefully one from which everybody can benefit.

I belong to a few screenwriting-oriented networking sites, and do what I can to engage with other members. I do what I can to be friendly, outgoing, and supportive with each connection.

Back in mid-July, I got an email from one such person. Their bio lists them as a “producer, screenwriter, and script consultant”. Would I be interested in a script swap? Despite having a few other reads already lined up, I’m always up for such a thing and agreed, telling them I’d try to get to it soon. Turns out they were in a similar situation.

They sent their script, and I sent mine. After a few days, I’d worked my way through the other projects and started in on their script.

Oh boy.

I won’t say it was awful, but I’d have to say in all honesty it simply wasn’t good. I’d also add that it made me seriously question their credentials.

Among the details:

-a passive protagonist I really didn’t care for, and who didn’t give me any reason to want to see them achieve their goal.

-a weak antagonist with a cartoonish goal

-underdeveloped story/bad structure, including several unresolved subplots and a big letdown of an ending

-unrealistic dialogue

-flat supporting characters

I pointed out what didn’t work for me and why, and offered suggestions of potential fixes. (I always make a point of never ever saying “this is how I’d do it”.) I’d estimate it was around 2 pages worth of notes, and they were free to use or ignore whatever they wanted.

I sent it out Friday afternoon.

Saturday morning, this was the email I got.

“Thanks, Paul.”

Seriously. That was it.

I came to two potential conclusions:

-I was an ignorant know-nothing boob to the nth degree with zero appreciation for their extraordinary skills (“How dare you not recognize my genius!”), and they were just saying “thanks” to be polite

-My notes were so cruel and inhuman, and if that was how we were going to play that game, then they’d be just as ruthless and grind my script into a bloody mess

Hyperbole on my part? Maybe, but check out their response again and think about what your reaction would be.

I figured it was one or the other, but all I could do now was wait (while working on other scripts, naturally).

Quick reminder – this was the end of July.

August passes. No response.

September. Still nothing. (but I did finish the outline of another script, so…yay)

Hmm. Several possibilities now.

-they still haven’t read it

-they read it, but haven’t gotten around to sending the notes

-they forgot. It happens.

-because of what I said about their script, they were deliberately not reading it OR sending the notes. To punish me, I guess?

September came to a close, and I figured I’d been patient enough.

I sent an email – “Know it’s been a while, and I’m sure you’ve been busy, but wanted to check in and see if you’ve had a chance to take a look at my script. Thanks.”

Five days later…

“Best script I ever read.”

Again, that was it.

I asked if they could elaborate. (note – this is my comedy)

Were there any parts you felt could use more work?
“Nope.  Perfect.”

What did you think of the characters?
“Outstanding.”

Your thoughts on the jokes?
“I was rolling on the floor laughing.”

Anybody else find this just a tad suspicious, and, oh, total and utter bullshit?

No apology. No remorse. No attempt to make amends. Just a handful of “ain’t I hilarious?” bare minimum answers.

I really wanted to say something in response. Call them out for it. Tell them what an incredibly brazen dick move that was. I even came up with several scenarios to trap them in their sinister web of lies and deceit.

But in the end, I was getting all worked up for nothing. And this person is most definitely NOT worth it. All I’d lost was two hours of reading and writing notes, as well as severing our connection on that networking site. No skin off my nose.

I can only surmise they didn’t like what I had to say, so for whatever reason, decided to not read my script, and after being asked (reminded?) to uphold their end of the deal, took it one step further and opted to not even bother.

I don’t really mind that they didn’t read the script – especially after seeing their writing “skills” in action – but if you’re going to claim you’re a “professional”, then you damned well better act like it. No matter what.

Bet they wouldn’t have done this if I’d been a paying client. Thank goodness it never came to that.

Present yourself as someone who supposedly knows what they’re doing, but then show that’s not the case, and you’re just screwing yourself. Sometimes all you’ve got going for you is your reputation, and once that’s tarnished, you might never be able to restore it.

And let me also add that YOU CAME TO ME.  You wanted MY help. And this is how you react because I didn’t like your script? Too fucking bad. Is this how you’re going to treat  others who make similar comments? I may not be the most talented or analytical of writers, but at least I treat everybody with respect, even when they don’t deserve it.

When we read another writer’s script, we don’t want it to just be good. We want it to be so phenomenal we can’t believe we had the privilege of being able to read it.

Notes are about the script, not the writer. Of course you’re going to take criticism personally. But you can’t. I have no idea how much work you put into it, but are you more interested in making your script better, or getting a pat on the head and told “Good job”?

I hope this little incident doesn’t deter other writers from taking part in a script swap, including with me. Schedule permitting, I’m always happy to do so. Fortunately, most of my other script-swapping experiences have been of a significantly more positive nature. This was just one of those rare negative exceptions.

Hopefully you have a strong sense of  what kind of writer/note-giver the other person is, and once those scripts are swapped, definitely make sure both of you hold up your respective ends of the bargain.

Because the last thing you want is to get on a writer’s bad side.