Ask a Fount-of-Knowledge Script Consultant!

Matt Lazarus

*note – Matt passed away in July 2020

The latest in a series of interviews with script readers and consultants who would be worth your while to work with if you want to get your script in shape. Today’s spotlight is on Matt Lazarus of The Story Coach.

Matt Lazarus has worked in the industry since 2003. He started in development with jobs at Untitled Entertainment, CAA, and Platinum Studios (Cowboys and Aliens). He joined the WGA in 2007 by selling a horror script to RKO, and he sold a movie to Cartoon Network in 2011. Matt’s story coaching was designed to be affordable, regular, and useful, and he excels at breaking advanced concepts into simpler processes and exercises.

1. What’s the last thing you read/watched that you thought was incredibly well-written?

SHORT TERM 12, a thoughtful, sad drama about a foster home for displaced youth and the human condition. I saw the trailer and it hooked me. The world, performances and characters are all on point. It’s a great example of a drama, and of wringing the most entertainment and potential out of a simple concept.

2. How’d you get your start reading scripts?

I moved to Los Angeles in 2003, and I got my first assistant job after working really hard at an unpaid internship. I wanted to be a writer, and I talked about it way too much. Anyway, I got good at reading scripts and it always provided me an entry to meeting lit agents and executives who wanted to ask follow up questions on material. I’ve been a freelance reader for some studios for years, and there was a time I was even unironically working on a book on how to cover (most of it made it onto my blog). I’ve been a sporadically working WGA writer since 2007, but the financial security of coverage has always given me something to fall back on.

3. Is recognizing good writing something you think can be taught or learned?

Good writing is hard to define. You want it to be accessible: a mediocre scifi appeals to scifi fans, a great one appeals to everyone. You want it to be engaging: no one goes to the movies to not be affected. You want it to help your career. It’s great to sell a script, but if a script doesn’t sell but gets me in a room with someone who can hire me for my next job, I’ll take it.

Anything can be learned. Not everyone who studies piano will become Glen Gould, but they will get somewhat better at piano. I was pretty cineliterate when I moved to LA, and my years in the development trenches helped me marry my base of knowledge to a working understanding of how the industry works and what the powers that be tend to look for.

4. What are the components of a good script?

“Good” is a hard term to define, a semantic minefield. The components of a good script are the same as the bad ones: they both have the same main four (character names, dialogue, sluglines,descriptions), they both take up the same amount of space.

The difference is harder to measure. We see a thousand faces a day, but only a few make us stop and say wow. We hear new songs on the radio every day, few of them will become our favorite. Most would agree that a good writer can do more in the same space than a bad writer, but the ways in which they are better will always and should always be argued over.

5. What are some of the most common mistakes you see?

The most common is writing a script without a premise. I use something called the premise test. It breaks things down to what’s simple. It’s not the only way to look at scripts, but it’s as good as any, better than most:

“An <ADJECTIVE> <ARCHETYPE> must <GOAL> or else <STAKES>. He does this by <DOING> and (optionally) learns <THEME>.

This seems simple, but the doing is the real meat of the movie. If a naive accountant must raise 100k or his daughter dies, different doings give you very different movies (for example, he could win a surf contest, kill a vampire lord, or invent a time machine and go back to 1979). If you can’t explain what’s interesting about your script in 50 words, you’re unlikely to improve things by writing out 100 boring pages.

Writing is a lot like being a chef. Both are creative forms that have structural limits and immense room for interpretation. Tastes are subjective, but a good chef can anticipate the audience and when he serves something he should have a rough sense of why the average patron might find it delicious.

Most writers write without a real sense of the audience. We’re writing to entertain, to deliver a satisfying emotional experience to the audience. If a writer isn’t writing with a sense of empathy for the audience, the end result is likely to be disappointing.

6. What story tropes are you just tired of seeing?

-Scripts about Hollywood power brokers written by people who haven’t met Hollywood power brokers.

-TV pilots that spend their entire length explaining how we got to the premise without every showing what’s fun or interesting about the premise (see #5). There won’t be a second episode. What are you saving it for?

-Comedies that aren’t funny. I recommend taking an improv class and reading the UCB Handbook.

7. What are the 3 most important rules every writer should know?

The word “rules” needs to die. It always starts a fight. People have an unending appettite for hearing that they can write, but any suggestion of how one might approach writing is generally taken as a suggestion of how one ought to write, and then an unproductive argument ensues. Here are three general principals:

-Entertain. You should know exactly what feeling you want to create in your audience.

-Use unity. Once you’ve set up your script, you want everything to feel connected, organic, and like a ramification of what’s come before. Bad scripts keep inventing random stuff throughout the second act, and it leads to a script that feels arbitrary.

-Be specific. A lot of writers will write in variables, keeping things loose (my character is either an architect or a deli owner… I haven’t decided which) because they think it will prevent them from getting lost or stuck in the later stages. This never works. Imagination thrives on immediacy and specifics. It’s better to commit to an idea and follow it to its conclusion. Even if you went in a wrong direction, the specifics you generate add value to your story. If you keep things vague, you’re building on sand and it’s hard to move the story forward when things exist in a vacuum.

8. Have you ever read a script that was an absolute, without-a-doubt “recommend”? If so, could you give the logline?

In 2003 I read a really funny script called Underdogs. I couldn’t stop reading it or quoting the dialogue. It ended up turning into DODGEBALL starring Vince Vaughan. The movie is really funny, the script is funnier.

9. How do you feel about screenwriting contests? Worth it or not?

It depends on the contest. When I was at big companies, execs would usually read the top Nicholl scripts out of a morbid curiosity, but other big script contests (Scriptapalooza comes to mind) would try to get executives to read their top three, and the execs were lukewarm. For instance, a lot of people are selling off the Black List right now. It’s useful now, but might not be in three years.

10. How can people get in touch with you to find out more about the services you provide?

Matt passed away in July 2020, and his site thestorycoach.net has since been taken down.

11. Readers of this blog are more than familiar with my love/appreciation of pie. What’s your favorite kind?

Humble pie. If you’re serious about writing, you’ll be served it more times can be counted. Alternately, strawberry rhubarb. I’m from Vermont, and it reminds me of a childhood garden.

Ask an Inspiring-the-Aspiring Script Consultant!

Amanda Pendolino copy

The latest in a series of interviews with script readers and consultants who would be worth your while to work with if you want to get your script in shape. Today’s spotlight is on Amanda Pendolino.

1. What’s the last thing you read/watched that you thought was incredibly well-written?

I really liked THE SKELETON TWINS. It blended comedy and drama in a way that I think is very hard to do. It also got its plot moving in the very first scene, and brought out the humanity in characters who make terrible mistakes.

2. How’d you get your start reading scripts?

I first learned to write coverage while interning at a production company. Then I did more coverage when I worked as an assistant at an agency. After I left the agency, a former coworker of mine had moved onto a production company and hired me as a freelance reader. All my other reading jobs also came about through friends/contacts.

3. Is recognizing good writing something you think can be taught or learned?

Hmm, that’s hard. Your own personal taste isn’t really something that can be taught, but yes, I do think you can learn what it is that producers and studios are looking for.

4. What are the components of a good script?

A compelling concept and visual world, well-developed characters, an interesting plot with conflict and movement, authentic dialogue.

5. What are some of the most common mistakes you see?

Many writers don’t take enough time to develop their concepts. Is your idea enough to sustain a MOVIE or entire SERIES? Is it fresh and original and interesting – and is your concept clearly established? Other mistakes include boring characters (you need to be writing ROLES that can attract top actors) and plots that unfold without any twists or turns. New writers also sometimes write prose that fails to create mood/atmosphere/tone. Every moment of your script is an opportunity to show off your specific voice and writing ability.

6. What story tropes are you just tired of seeing?

Women who are sex objects; women who are too perfect/idealized; one woman in a script with twenty guys.

7. What are the 3 most important rules every writer should know?

-Writing is rewriting. Don’t send a script out until it’s ready.

-Read scripts and watch TV/movies voraciously.

-One single script probably won’t launch your career. Sometimes the best thing to do is move on and write a new script.

8. Have you ever read a script that was an absolute, without-a-doubt “recommend”? If so, could you give the logline?

I recommended the script IMOGENE by Michelle Morgan, which became the movie GIRL MOST LIKELY. The logline I wrote for it was “After getting dumped and losing her job, a desperate young woman gets banished to New Jersey. After she discovers that her father is still alive, she sets out to find him, hoping that he’s the impressive parent she’s always been looking for.”

9. How do you feel about screenwriting contests? Worth it or not?

Certain ones are reputable, like the Nicholl Fellowship – but in most cases, the people who win contests don’t really get anything as a result. Many people who run screenwriting contests don’t actually put you in touch with anyone, and most producers/agents/etc aren’t going to be impressed that you won some random contest. “Anybody can win a contest,” my old agency boss used to say. Go ahead and enter a contest if you can see actual evidence of previous winners launching careers, but don’t hinge all your career success on winning a contest. It would be a mistake to think that entering a contest is the only thing you need to do to get your work out there.

10. How can people get in touch with you to find out more about the services you provide?

You can check out my website at amandapendolino.com or email me at aspiringwriterblog@gmail.com.

11. Readers of this blog are more than familiar with my love/appreciation of pie. What’s your favorite kind?

I also love and appreciate pie! I’m going to have to go with classic apple pie – with vanilla ice cream on top, of course.

Rewriting with a capital “Re”

How it all starts. Again.
How it all starts. Again.

The original plan was to have a first draft of the low-budget comedy done by year’s end.

But just as I started (2 whole pages written!), a few more sets of notes came in for the western, which were added to the rest accumulated throughout the year.

I’ve written here before about how this script did not get the results I was hoping for. If I didn’t do something about it, that wouldn’t change.

As much as I love this script, the plain and simple truth is that it’s weak as it reads now. In the words of one of my note-givers, “it’s good, but has the potential to be a lot better.”

Among the comments in the collected aforementioned notes were several “What if…?” and “How about…?” questions. The general consensus was that parts of the story needed further development, and these suggestions might be worth considering in order to make that happen.

It was drastic measure time, which also meant making some really big decisions. Do I keep plugging away on the comedy just to get it out of the way? Do I attempt a major overhaul of the western’s story? And if I did that, how much of it would actually change?

There was no getting around it. It had to be different. Time for a new approach and new ideas.

So I’m rewriting it. In the truest sense of the word.

The concept is still the same, but the execution is what will be different.

Talk about daunting. Taking something you’ve practically obsessed over, jettisoning a sizable portion of it and starting anew. There are few things as intimidating as that blinking cursor at the top of a blank screen. It just sits there, taunting you, as if it were saying “Go ahead. Show me what you got.”

But here’s the silver lining: rather than abandon everything from every previous draft, I can pick and choose from of all of that material, which is now available for reworking, reshaping, re-whatevering.

Even more of a bonus: looking over all those notes on the western made me think something similar was in order for the mystery-comedy. So I’m working on a major rewrite of that too. I don’t know how I’ll proportion my time and focus between the two, but confidence, hope and ambition are all at significantly high levels as a result.

-And now, time for an IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!

Since the rewrites will be keeping me busy over the next two weeks, this will be the last me-centric post of the year.

But don’t despair. Starting this Monday, and continuing EVERY WEEKDAY through January 2, a new post will be available for your reading enjoyment.

That’s right. Ten whole days of quality material to keep you company through the holiday season.

I think you’ll like ’em.

Three and a half scripts. No waiting.

Keep your pants on. These things can't be rushed.
Everybody else, though, will have to wait. These things can’t be rushed.

Despite a few weeks to go, it’s safe to say that 2014 didn’t work out the way I’d hoped. I didn’t do that well on the contest front, and I no longer have a manager.

I’ve gotten over the thankfully-brief “woe is me” phase, and am now firmly planted in “How can I make this better?”

Like any smart and savvy writer, I’m thinking ahead and making plans.

-As much as I love my western, it still needs work. Beaucoup thanks to the legion of note-givers who offered up a lot of insight that really helped me out.

There’s a hill near where I went to elementary school. At the time, it felt like taking on Everest. Now, not so much. The idea of rewriting this script feels incredibly daunting right now, but as is usually the case, probably won’t be a problem.

A few ideas for changes have already popped up, with the hard part now to let go of what’s already in there, but that’s another blogpost.

-Another group of notegivers had some fantastic things to say about my mystery-comedy, and provided similarly helpful feedback. They liked the concept, pointed out what in the story needed work and had some great suggestions for potential fixes.

This one is going to be especially tricky (due to that whole mystery angle), but again, I’ll work my way through it.

Can’t explain why, but for some reason, listening to 50’s jazz and drinking a glass of quality red feel like they would be extremely conducive to working on the outline. I’ll let you know how that goes.

-As for the low-budget comedy, the story’s being kept under wraps until the first draft is finished. The big hurdle here is to just keep writing and not obsess over each joke. Darn my perfectionist nature.

-It’s been a while since it’s been mentioned, or even thought of, for that matter, but I don’t want to ignore my pulpy adventure. I managed to crank out a workable outline, but it definitely needs more fine-tuning. It’s more of a “whenever I get to it”, rather than a “I have to finish this!”.

So there you have it. My projects for the coming year. How many will actually be completed? Hard to say right now, but 3 seems like a reasonable number.

At this point, I’m not even entertaining the notion of contests. It’s really all about writing, editing, rewriting and polishing. Any money I would have spent on contest fees will go towards professional feedback.

I’ll admit I was hoping to have made some significant progress this year in terms of establishing a career, and in some ways I have, but you know what I mean.

If continuing to improve as a writer and honing my skills means a slight delay in getting representation, making a sale, and getting assignment work, then so be it.

I’m a patient guy.

Trying times, indeed

an apt metaphor if ever there was one
An apt metaphor if ever there was one

You know how they say you’ve got to endure a whole lot of ‘no’s until you get that single magical ‘yes’?

Well, another ‘no’ was added to the pile this week in the form of a “Pass” rating from an industry professional regarding my western spec. And to make it that much better, the “Pass” was applied to both script and writer. Apparently my skills didn’t pass muster, either.

They didn’t have many positive things to say, and I’m not going to say their comments were right or wrong. There may be a lot of helpful info in their coverage, but in the end it’s just their opinion.

A few people offered up a similar reaction:  This is ONE PERSON’s opinion. People will always find fault with your work. The next person may think it’s great. Keep trying. Don’t give up.

Point is: you never become completely immune to criticism.

Was I being a little delusional in my hopes that they’d really like it? I knew they wouldn’t claim it was the best script ever, but even a “Hey, this has potential” would have been nice.

Was I laboring under some false sense of optimism? Was I letting my excitement and enthusiasm get in the way of being totally objective?

Even more so, despite reassurances from friends and trusted colleagues, have I been fooling myself all this time in thinking I actually have talent?

How could anyone in this situation not think along these lines?

Let’s consider my confidence shaken and definitely weakened, but not totally gone. It still stings a bit, but I’ll survive.

And almost as if exactly on cue, later in the day came these two totally unsolicited comments from online connections:

“With the credibility you have with contest wins and that fabulous blog, I’m astonished you’re unproduced.”

“I wanted to say a big fat THANK YOU for your comments on my script! I couldn’t have done it without you. THANKS AGAIN!”

Maybe there’s hope for me yet.