Everybody likes different things. A universal truth if ever there was one.
Something I like may be the total opposite of something you like, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.
But how willing are we to be open-minded and try something different than what we like?
Do you immediately get all defensive and resist? Do you cautiously dip in a toe and carefully proceed? Or do you embrace the opportunity and jump right in, feet first?
And what in the world does any of this have to do with screenwriting?
Easy. Good scripts can be found in so many different genres. As a constantly-learning writer, you should be reading all kinds of scripts, no matter what the genre.
Sure, you can only read scripts just like what you write, but that narrows your focus and can get a little dull after a while.
Changing things up and reading scripts you normally wouldn’t can only help you be a better writer.
A friend asked me to read his horror spec. Horror is definitely not my thing, but he’d read one of my scripts, and the least I could do was return the favor.
Even though it wasn’t a movie I would go to see, I made a point of reading it from a writer’s point of view. Was the structure sound? Were the characters developed enough? Did the plot make sense? Was it scary? Formatted correctly? Any spelling errors?
Despite my opinion of the horror genre, I enjoyed the read and told him so in my notes, highlighting what I thought worked and pointing out what didn’t. He appreciated my honesty, and thought I made some good points.
Victory for both sides.
Counter to that, I’ve had my share of feedback that could best be interpreted as simply disinterested.
One reader from a high-profile service seemed to skim to around page 30, then called it a day, filling out their notes with generic comments. In as vague terms as possible, they made it pretty clear this wasn’t for them.
It’s extremely difficult to win over the reader who’s ready to stop reading your script before they even begin. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about it. The best you can do is put it behind you and move on.
(Which I did. The same script would eventually go on to some moderate contest success and get me a manager.)
Fortunately, there are those who, even though your genre “isn’t their thing”, will read your script and hopefully give you some notes that will help make it better.
You just have to get out there and find them, making sure to offer to return the favor.
“You’d have turned down Gone With The Wind.” “No, that was me. I said, “Who wants to see a Civil War picture?””
It’s still an uphill climb with a few gaps here and there, but the overall story for the low-budget comedy is coming together.
I’m making a point of not rushing through it and being extra careful – almost to the point of meticulous – about how all the pieces interconnect. The more I work on it, the more the phrase “French farce” comes to mind, so lots of interweaving storylines, the intersecting of character paths, and the ramifications of each character’s actions on the others. At least that’s my interpretation.
A challenge, to say the least, but it’s been a fun ride so far.
A last-minute surprise factor was this response to the logline on an online forum: “It’s so straightforward now it’s hard to believe you could sustain interest through 100 pages.”
I’d like to thank that person for throwing down the gauntlet in making me work even harder than I already was. Never underestimate the motivational power of “Oh yeah? Just you wait and see what I can do.”
But back to the bigger issue. Statements like these always make me wonder about the person who says/writes them.
I never cared for the “I don’t see how this could be a story” line of reasoning. That tells me you lack vision and creativity. Just because you think it won’t work doesn’t mean it won’t. Nobody thought GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY would do well and look what happened.
Side note – My western received a handful of reader responses along the lines of “This isn’t factually or historically accurate, so I just couldn’t get into it.” They’re entitled to their opinions, but I feel bad about their inability to just sit back and enjoy an old-fashioned ripping yarn. Although one person was gracious enough to admit at the end of their comments “It would be better if you just ignore everything I’ve just said.” Consider it done.
Always remember the sage advice of William Goldman: Nobody knows anything.
I’m all for encouraging other writers. If your idea interests or excites me, I’ll tell you. If it doesn’t, I’ll explain why not and make suggestions of potential fixes. The last thing I want to do is discourage you or give you a lecture, and you sure as hell don’t want to hear one.
My criteria is pretty simple: If I read somebody’s logline or hear their story pitch and can instantly imagine the potential within that story, and more importantly, if it sounds like something I would want to see, then they’ve succeeded and gotten over the first hurdle.
Of course, having the actual script live up to or possibly even surpass expectations is another thing.
(L-R) Miranda, Sandra & budgeter/scheduler extraordinaire Hosam, who is not part of this interview
*And considering this doesn’t cost you anything to begin with, that’s the best deal you’ll get today.
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 Miranda Sajdak and Sandra Leviton of Script Chix.
1. What’s the last thing you read/watched that you thought was incredibly well-written?
WINTER’S BONE
BUTCHER HOLLER by Daniel Shea
2. How’d you get your start reading scripts?
M – Started off as an intern in Hollywood doing the typical script-reading duties. Moved on to being an assistant and continued to do coverage there. Eventually found myself reading for friends and family on the side, and realized (around the same time as Sandra did) that it was a good idea to monetize some of this so as not to just be doing it in my free time. Ended up simultaneously being asked to read for various studios/companies, and turned all that experience around into Script Chix!
S – I believe I read my first script in college, though as a kid, I liked to watch movies and transcribe them. It took hours, but I loved it. The internet wasn’t really a thing yet, so there was no easy access to them. However, professionally, I started reading as an intern doing short coverages for executives during staffing season. My subsequent jobs at an agency and a cable network had me reading all of the time – for potential clients, development, and show staffing. Giving notes to clients, friends, and others who needed feedback was part of my daily life. When I decided to leave my network gig and go out on my own, doing it professionally seemed like a natural transition. As soon as friends at another cable network heard my news, they offered me a spot as one of their book readers. Around the same time, Miranda and I teamed up, and the rest is Script Chix history.
3. Is recognizing good writing something you think can be taught or learned?
M – Somewhat. The biggest thing here is to read as much as possible. We see scripts from writers who clearly don’t read screenplays regularly. The more you read, the more you’re able to recognize. Some of it is likely innate – and it should start early, before you get to Hollywood and decide you want to make movies – but, sure, recognizing what works just comes from reading more.
S – Reading is both objective and subjective. When we give notes, we try to focus on the objective. Even if we personally don’t like a character, a plotline, or concept, we can recognize that it written well, and it’s just not our personal taste. So yes, being able to recognize good writing can be taught; some things are obvious like formatting. However, it takes years of learning and practice to be able to both identify what is good and to be able to separate your own opinions/ taste from it.
4. What are the components of a good script?
S & M – There’s a number of things, but most importantly, a compelling story with multi-dimensional characters. Believable moments that still feel fresh. Strong narrative voice. Imagination and marketability. We would also include formatting in this list. It’s not a sexy component, but it is an important one. The story can be amazing, but if the formatting is off, it’s distracting, and most readers won’t be able to pay attention to greatness of the script.
5. What are some of the most common mistakes you see?
S & M – The biggest one we see, by far, is lack of formatting and proofreading. Bad character introductions. Lazy concept. Writing from experience, but instead of dramatizing the “true story that really happened” to the writer, it’s a regurgitation. Not understanding the difference between edgy and outright offensive or mean. One-dimensional or non-existent women and minorities. Some of these are not necessarily mistakes, but they’re all definitely problems we encounter often.
6. What story tropes are you just tired of seeing?
M – Refrigerator women. Lack of women and minorities. One-dimensional women.
S – Stories about Hollywood, writers, and nights out with the boys. Every writer at some point writes a script about being a struggling writer in Hollywood or their lead male protagonist is a sensitive writer that gets their heart broken. Also behind the scenes of reality TV – this is starting to become a thing. People tend to write what they know and unfortunately, all they know is trying to make it in Hollywood. Unfortunately for them, no executive wants to read this and no audience wants to see it. So if a writer must write this story, do it, get it out of your system, and move on to something more original. Draw from life experience – get out there and enjoy the world, feel heartbreak, and get into trouble (but not too much). The “night out/ retail job with the boys picking up women” is also the most common one we see in fledgling comedy writers. It’s another case of writing what you know. These stories don’t work because they are usually re-tellings of actual experiences that are not particularly dramatic or funny to anyone outside of the people who experienced it. Additionally, the humor only comes from insulting women. Just because making fun of a woman was hysterical to you and your boys in the moment doesn’t make it funny or appealing to anyone else.
7. What are the 3 most important rules every writer should know?
M – Write. Read. Revise.
S – Persistence, practice, and patience.
8. Have you ever read a script that was an absolute, without-a-doubt “recommend”? If so, could you give the logline?
M – Yes! And it just finished shooting! “A teenage con artist tricks a desperate mother into hiring her as a live-in companion for her autistic daughter.”
S – I agree with M. That script is amazing. Honestly, it’s tough to give a blanket “recommend” because each company and client we work with has their own specific mandates of what they are looking for, so it needs to be tailored to their needs. A script that I loved recently, like goosebump-inducing loved is “With the help of a crotchety old neighbor and his garden, a young woman’s world comes alive.” It sounds a bit generic, but it was beautifully written and full of magic with a hint of surrealism.
9. How do you feel about screenwriting contests? Worth it or not?
S & M – Absolutely worth it, but not all of them. Do your research. See which contests have a track record of success for the writers who’ve won. Look at what the prizes are. If the only prize is that you won the contest, it’s probably not that worthwhile (unless it’s a big name like Nicholl or Page). And look at things like fellowships, as well. If they want you to pay but aren’t giving you anything WORTHWHILE in return, it’s not worth it.
That said… if you’re starting out and still sending out queries and you haven’t won anything or been published or produced – enter contests. Get some prestige next to your name, even if it is just “winner of miscellaneous contest.” It helps in general, but it mostly helps if the contest is considered reputable.
10. How can people can get in touch with you to find out more about the services you provide?
Details about the low-budget comedy have been kept under wraps because I wanted to develop the story some more before pitching it to my final-say editor. If she liked it, then it’s good to go.
She did. Quite enthusiastically.
So now it’s all about coming up with potential scenes and sequences, then reorganizing them to tell the story in the best and funniest ways possible.
I’ve gone back and forth about how much information to disclose, but realize it would be better to at least offer up some minimal details.
So here it is.
Working title: An Angel Walks Into A Bar…
“After literally dying onstage, a caustic comedian’s only shot at afterlife redemption is to fix three of the many lives he’s ruined.”
This stems from the “What if…?” question of “What if a Don Rickles-like comedian was your guardian angel?”
I like the concept, think it’s pretty original and see lots of potential within the story. I’ve got a primary storyline and three subplots, all of which are inter-connected. It’s a bit of a challenge to put together, but that’s part of the appeal.
Just to test the waters, I posted the logline on a few online forums. Comments ranged from “Sounds fantastic!” to “Who are these three people? Why them?” Some read like they’re ticking items off a Screenwriting 101 checklist (“You don’t have ____, so it’s no good.”)
The one that really threw me was the claim that you could replace “comedian” with another occupation and it would still be the same story. Everyone’s entitled to their opinion, but I heartily disagree. A proctologist, maybe, but not much else.
It all comes down to either you like the logline and it makes you want to see the movie, or you don’t and it doesn’t.
Honestly, I really need to stop posting on these forums. I’ve got a pretty solid network of trusted writer colleagues with more experience and whose opinions I put more value in than the anonymous members of the internet community.
So it looks like I’ll be keeping busy for the time being with this and the rewrites of the western and the mystery-comedy.
I find a little onomatopoeia makes each day a little brighter
Scenario time!
You’ve finished the latest draft of your latest project. You know it’s not perfect, but it’s probably better than the previous incarnation(s). Or at least hope it is.
In theory you’ve built up a network of reliable peers with skill levels comparable to yours, so you put the word out.
“If it’s not too much of a hassle and you have the time, would you be so kind as to take a look at this?”
Some will have to decline, but others are more than happy to oblige. You, of course, offer to return the favor if the need should arise.
So you send it off and do your best to not think about it.
Days or weeks pass, and then the notes begin to trickle in.
Thoughtful questions about story and character are asked. Typos you didn’t realize you missed are highlighted. Details you had not even considered are pointed out. Everything geared towards helping you make your script better.
These other writers, struggling to succeed just as much as you, don’t hesitate to offer their encouragement.
That’s one scenario. Here’s another.
The notes come across as angry, impatient and frustrated. Even worse, your script is criticized. Metaphorically torn to shreds.
“This makes no sense!” “I don’t get it.” “WTF?” “Bored now.”
This is helpful?
I’ve read my share of scripts that needed a lot of work, with the writers having come to me for help. If I see what I consider a problem, I’ll identify it and make suggestions of how it could be fixed, leaving the final decisions up to the writer. Nor will I hesitate to mention something that works or that I enjoyed.
I try to make it a positive experience, and am not out to make anybody feel stupid or inadequate. (We all do that just fine on our own.) Responses usually read along the lines of “These are great! Thanks so much!” and are taken at face value.
It really bothers me when somebody is excessively negative and claims “I’m just doing the same thing the industry does.” But you’re not in the industry, let alone a screenwriting guru. You’re trying to break in, just like me.
I’m not looking for lavish praise about my work, and I honestly don’t expect it. If you like the script, great. But I want to make it better, and to do that I need help, and that’s what I’m hoping you’ll provide.
Maximum Z 