I posted this just about a year ago, and after recently receiving some very supportive and encouraging script notes, think it’s still relevant.
“Am I getting better?
One of the sad truths about trying to make it as a screenwriter is that it’s an extremely frustrating process.
On certain days, the frustration feels like it extends to the uppermost part of the outer edge of the stratosphere. To the nth degree.
What is it about screenwriting that people who don’t do it think it’s easy? If you’re reading this, it’s more than likely you’ve given it a go, or at least know somebody who has, so you know full well that it most definitely is not.
We even try to warn those who think hammering out a first draft in a few weeks is a guaranteed million dollar paycheck. This is a long and arduous road, we say, but they don’t let that stop them. A legion of the truly unaware who will discover the scary truth soon enough.
Those of us who are fully committed (an apt phrase if ever there was one) finish the latest draft, then edit, rewrite and polish it so many times it enters well into double digit territory, hoping our writing and storytelling skills are improving with each new attempt.
But how do we know if that’s even happening?
We ask friends and trusted colleagues for feedback. We pay for professional analysis. The script gets reworked yet again.
We hope this newest draft is light years ahead of all of its previous incarnations in terms of quality, but sometimes it’s tough to be able to recognize if that’s the case. At least for me, anyway.
Whenever I send somebody a script for critiquing, I always say “Thanks for taking a look. Hope you like it.”
I know the script isn’t perfect – maybe even far from it, which is why I ask for help. Part of me knows it’s good, but can be better. It’s being able to identify the latter that gives me trouble. I’m so deeply embedded in a story that it’s tough to step back and be objective. Maybe I can not look at it for a few weeks, but even then it’s tough to look at it with fresh eyes.
Follow-up notes will tell me what they liked and what they feel needs work. There will be a fair mix of stuff I should have already figured out and some “How could I have missed that?” surprises.
So back I go into rewrite mode, hoping for improvement for both the material and myself, still not knowing if that improvement is there until I undergo the entire process all over again.
I’m afraid I find your suggestion to be most illogical (RIP Mr Nimoy)
I had a great coffee-chat conversation with another writer earlier this week. Among the many topics we discussed was the fine art of giving and receiving notes.
When you give notes, you want to be equally helpful and critical (without being mean or condescending about it). A lot of the time, the person seeking notes is a peer or someone with pretty much a level of experience more or less equal to yours, so they know how to interpret the notes, and don’t take anything personally.
They also realize the only way to improve is to learn what mistakes they made, make the proper adjustments, and make a mental note to not do it again from here on in. This is an essential skill that takes time to get the hang of.
But what about the writer who asks you to read their just-finished first script? “Don’t worry. Be as brutally honest as you need to be. I can take it.”
Are you sure about that?
If you’ve been doing this for a while, you’re quick to recognize what works and what doesn’t in their script, and you make the appropriate notes and suggestions.
I’ve encountered almost the entire spectrum of reactions from newer writers, ranging from “These notes are fantastic! Thank you so much!” to “Hmph. You obviously don’t recognize my genius” (I’m paraphrasing that one). You’ve probably heard similar things, but hey, at least you tried to help.
Then there’s being on the receiving end. It’s not easy to hand your baby over to somebody so they can find fault with it, but again, it’s a necessary part of the process. Many’s the time I have felt my pulse quicken in the moments just before the comments were unleashed.
As stated above, if the notes are from someone on an equal level to me, I appreciate the positive things they have to say, but am more interested in their critical comments (which doesn’t automatically mean they’re negative). I may be having trouble with how to fix a particular problem, so outside suggestions are definitely appreciated. Sometimes it’s an “Of course!” moment, sometimes it’s a “Huh?” I may not always agree with what they say, but it may spark the thought of a new approach. Anything helps.
On the other side of the coin is getting comments from writers with less experience than you. You’ve written ten scripts, and they’ve written one, maybe two. How much value can you place on what they have to say? They don’t have the benefit of experience, so their comments may come across as uninformed or focusing on the wrong things. The best you can do is take what you think might be useful and discard/ignore the rest, reminding yourself that they’ll learn over time.
The whole point of notes is to help make the script better, and both note-giver and receiver need to approach this from that viewpoint. It’s not the time for the note-giver to say “This is how I would do it,” and the receiver can’t get ultra-defensive and overly possessive of their work.
Once the notes are given, the responsibility falls on the writer to interpret and use them as they see fit.
I had the good fortune earlier this week to attend the meeting of a new writing group. It’s been a while since I’ve been part of one, and it was nice being able to once again interact with other writers and engage in casual discussions about our respective projects before moving on to the focus of the evening. Since it was my first time attending, I’d opted to stay in the role of observer/commenter, rather be than one of the four-to-five who brings pages for review.
Following a brief table read, the group then offers up its collective comments. This week’s selections weren’t bad, but each set had room for improvement. Some maybe a little more than others.
When I got the opportunity to toss in my two cents, I talked about what stood out for me and what I thought needed work, making a point of being nice about it.
Others chimed in with their opinions and suggestions, not all of which I agreed with. While I may have been thinking “That’s not right,”or “That doesn’t make any sense,” my lips remained sealed. I didn’t want to come across as the pompous know-it-all. It’s important to make a good first impression, no matter who you’re meeting.
When the meeting was over, I talked to the guy who organizes it (we were in a different writing group years ago), saying I’d hoped I wasn’t too obnoxious with my comments. “Not at all,” he said. “A lot of these folks are newer writers, and you told them some things they needed to hear. It’s the only way they’re going to get better.”
Whew.
It’s been my experience, and hopefully yours, that getting feedback from an actual person is beneficial on several levels. Chances are you’ll know something about that person’s background and experience, so you can put the appropriate level of merit into what they have to say. And unless they’re a jerk to begin with, they might be a little less harsh with their comments than if it was an online forum, where for some reason people have no problem letting loose with vitriolic criticism and put-downs.
If you asked somebody for feedback, wouldn’t you rather the notes were helpful in a supportive way, rather than “This sucks! What makes you think you can write?” That would be pretty devastating, right?
Now imagine that situation reversed. A newer writes comes to you, asking for notes. Do you think “They don’t realize how fortunate they are to have the wonderfulness of my vast superior knowledge bestowed upon them!” or “I used to be where they are. How can I help?”
My advice: opt for the latter. Both of you will be better off for it.
I was originally going to write about getting notes from a writer (whose bio & accomplishments remain unknown) who made quite an effort to point out everything that’s wrong with my work.
No doubt what they’re saying is exactly what I need to hear, so if I want to make it in this business, I should heed every priceless word of advice they offer.
You get the idea.
But they’re not worth worrying about, and I don’t feel like dealing with this kind of idiotic nonsense right now.
-for those dying to know, my time for the half-marathon this past Sunday was 1:58:21, for a pace of 9:03/mile. Not too bad. Next one is March 22nd. Taking this weekend off, then back at it.
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 Hayley McKenzie, founder of Script Angel.
1. What’s the last thing you read/watched that you thought was incredibly well-written?
In film, I loved Philomena by Steve Coogan and Jeff Pope. I think it’s hard to make intimate stories in the Drama genre that feel like they deserve to be a feature film, but this one really nailed it for me. Also, Locke by Steven Knight – set entirely inside a car. I honestly didn’t think it would be possible to sustain tension with a guy talking on a phone driving a car for 90 minutes. It’s not a thriller, there is no threat to his life, no car-chase. It was a really stunning piece of writing. For TV, it was probably the second season of UK mini-series/serial drama Line of Duty by Jed Mercurio – a thriller that sustained tension and threat following one story over 6 hours of TV. One interview scene was 17 minutes long and you were holding your breath watching it – amazing writing.
2. How’d you get your start reading scripts?
After a Degree in English Literature, I started in film and TV production as a Runner, then 3rd AD. Then I discovered what Script Editors did – combining story analysis and film production – and knew I’d found my perfect role. I got a job as Development Co-Ordinator at BBC Drama where I got to read scripts for Jane Tranter (founder of Bad Wolf, Exec Producer Industry and His Dark Materials) and Pippa Harris (now Executive Producer for Call the Midwife). I was reading all the submissions to the department as well as everything in development and production. They read all my early script reports and really encouraged me to pursue it as a career.
3. Is recognizing good writing something you think can be taught or learned?
The technical analysis side of it can definitely be taught, and certainly improved through study. But I think good script readers are also very empathetic. Like the writer, they need to be able to imagine themselves inside the lives of the characters they’re reading about. Script Editors also need to be empathetic towards the writer themselves. As a Script Editor it’s not just your job to critique the script but to deliver criticism and useful solutions in a way that encourages rather than demoralizes the writer. You can’t not give the tough notes but as a Script Editor you’re working in a long-term development process with the writer so you can’t just tell them what’s crap and then walk away and wash your hands of it. What comes back in the next draft is in part your responsibility.
4. What are the components of a good script?
It’s got to make me feel something – almost anything as long as it’s not bored or confused. It almost doesn’t matter how you do it. If it’s a Drama I want it to make me cry. If it’s a Thriller it should be a tense, exhilarating read, etc. If it’s achieved that, even only in part, then I know there is something there I can work with.
5. What are some of the most common mistakes you see?
A great plot but poor characterizations; characters doing things because you need them to do it to get the plot to the next beat, not because it is what that character would do in that situation. And the reverse of that: great characters but almost nothing happens to them. Most writers have a natural flair for one or the other and the key is helping them strengthen the areas they’re weak in.
6. What story tropes are you just tired of seeing?
The hard-boiled, world-weary cop. It’s particularly a problem in television development because so many of our shows are in the Crime drama. Trying to find new angles on the ‘troubled cop’ is tough!
7. What are the 3 most important rules every writer should know?
1) Don’t be boring.
2) Don’t confuse me. Intrigue is great but utter bewilderment for huge swathes of screen-time will just make the reader ditch the script.
3) Don’t give up.
8. Have you ever read a script that was an absolute, without-a-doubt “recommend”? If so, could you give the logline?
Papadopoulos and Sons, which was a huge UK indie hit in 2012, outselling GI Joe: Retaliation in some London cinemas! “Following his ruin in the latest banking crisis, a self-made millionaire reluctantly re-unites with his estranged freewheeling brother to re-open the abandoned fish and chip shop they shared in their youth.” I was lucky enough to be brought onboard as Script Editor – such a privilege.
9. How do you feel about screenwriting contests? Worth it or not?
Definitely. Placing in a well-respected contest can really get you noticed. But not all contests are equal. We have a curated round-up on the Script Angel Writers’ Hub of the best UK and US screenwriting contests.
10. How can people get in touch with you to find out more about the services you provide?
Maximum Z 