A vital part of my creative engine

It helps me keep going forward
It helps me keep going forward

“The concept has potential, but a 16 year old lead without a property is really hard to cast, it would definitely need an A-list movie star. With this kind of lead, you might want to scale it back more and not make it so ambitious. Pass”

This was a management firm’s response to the one-page synopsis for my fantasy-adventure. It stung a little at first, but I’ve gotten over it. That’s when things shifted to analysis mode.

I appreciate the part about it having potential. Always nice to hear. Composing a one-pager has always been tough for me, so maybe the rollercoaster ride-ness of the story wasn’t conveyed enough. Nothing a little editing and rewriting couldn’t fix.

Regarding the actors. They’re looking at it from a business point of view, and who’d take a chance on a high-budget script written by an unknown?

Scaling it back. Um…not sure about that. I’ve created a new world within the confines of the story, so it’s kind of set in place. Nor do I feel overwhelmingly compelled to drastically change things around to suit the needs of somebody who might be potentially interested.

But “not make it so ambitious”? Afraid I’ll have to totally disagree with that one.

In the context of this kind of story, things cannot be kept simple. They need to be ambitious. In some ways, the story is an extension of my own ambition. My objective here is to tell a fun, entertaining story that takes you on an exciting ride. I strive to come up with new ideas, or at least new takes and approaches on old ones. I want my work to wow you and thrill you.

So the script wasn’t right for this particular person. Big deal. I took a chance, and it didn’t work out. The end of the world is not nigh. They’re definitely not the only ones out there, nor were they my only option. The person to say “yes” is still out there, and I’ll keep at it until we connect.

Never, ever underestimate the ambition and determination of a writer with their goals firmly set in place. It makes us quite formidable.

-Race alert! I’m running the Oakland half-marathon on Sunday. This race totally kicked my ass two years ago due to a combo of warmer-than-expected weather and a too-fast pace, so going into it with a goal of keeping it under two hours and the strategy of really trying to maintain a steady pace (especially for the first couple of miles) and doing what I can to stay cool. If that involves dumping water over my head at every water stop, so be it.

See you at the finish line.

From asking to being asked

Nothing like a receptive ear (and the person connected to it)
Nothing like a receptive ear (and the person connected to it)

Compare the most recent thing you wrote to the very first thing you wrote. How much of a difference is there?

One thing’s for certain: it no doubt took a lot of hard work and learning to get you from your skill level then to what it is now.

But you didn’t do it alone, or in a vacuum. You had help along the way from countless resources. It might have come from a book, a class, a writing group, or the occasional someone with more experience willing to help out.

When I started out, that was me. I got my hands on as many books as I could (the one I still recommend – Story Sense by Paul Lucey). Classes weren’t really an option, so I read a lot of scripts and attended a few seminars and expos when I could. I also had the good fortune to be involved with a few writing groups. A lot of this was also in the early days of the internet, so online resources and networking were nowhere near the levels they are now.

But what definitely helped the most was getting notes and feedback. The more fresh eyes you can get to take a look at your work, the better the end result will be. One stipulation: it depends on who you ask. Specifically, someone who really knows what they’re talking about, and whose knowledge and opinion you trust.

This has made a significant difference for me, such to the point that I now have a core group of trusted colleagues I can rely on for quality notes, and I’ve done my best to return the favor to many of them when possible.

And in recent months, as my network has grown and I connect with more writers, I’ll occasionally get an email asking along the lines of “If it’s not too much trouble, would you take a look at this and let me know what you think?” A script. Some pages. A logline. What have you.

I honestly never expected to be on the receiving end of that question, but, schedule permitting, am always happy to help out when I can. It’s the least I can do. Hopefully my notes will give them the help they need.

I don’t claim to have all the answers, but it’s kind of nice to think that I might be able to help somebody in the same way others did for me in the past.

Thank you. I’ll take that under consideration.

I'm afraid I find your suggestion to be most illogical (RIP Mr Nimoy)
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.

Ask a Produced-and-In-pre-production Script Consultant!

rob tobin

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 writer-author-lecturer Rob Tobin. 

Rob is a produced, award-winning screenwriter, published novelist, former motion picture development executive, author of the screenwriting books “The Screenwriting Formula” and “How to Write High Structure, High Concept Movies,” as well as several screenwriting CDs. He’s been a frequent guest lecturer on screenwriting at film festivals and writing conferences around the world.

*April 2015 update – Rob is currently working on a multi-book adaptation project and is not available for story notes, but can fit in one additional script polish or rewrite assignment.

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

My wife and I just saw “The Normal Heart,” which blew me away. Brilliantly written, acted and directed. Most importantly, the title wasn’t the only thing that had heart, something most films no longer have. Even a film like “The Fault in Our Stars,” a film with tremendous heart, that I loved. I’d much rather see a film or read a script like that than a brilliantly written script with no heart.

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

I’m originally Canadian, and came to USC in L.A. to get my M.A. in screenwriting and become a working screenwriter. My background was as a novelist. Everyone at USC told me I should intern at a film company. I did, and started reading scripts as part of my internship. Lots of them. Years later as a development exec, I stopped counting at 5,000 script scripts read and covered. In that process, I wrote two screenwriting books, starred in a couple of screenwriting DVDs, then people started flying me around to lecture on screenwriting – Canada, New England, the South of France.

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

Definitely something you can be taught. Screenwriting has structure, elements, rules, all of which you can learn. Of course some people are going to be better at it than others. In addition, there is the other part of being a script consultant, and that’s helping the writer find ways to improve her or his script. That can also be taught, but there’s a much bigger talent component to that.

4. What are the components of a good script?

I actually wrote a book about the seven essential elements of a well-written screenplay, but to be honest, as I mentioned, one of the biggest aspects of a well-written script is heart. Yes, you can write a brilliant script about crime, sex, war, and so on. Bond movies are great, but I still think that heart is what makes a script special. Something like “The Normal Heart” or “Good Will Hunting”, or even comedies like “Big” or “Tootsie” have heart. High concept is also important but as I said in another recent interview, a high concept piece of crap is still a piece of crap. A low concept work of brilliance is still a work of brilliance. There are techniques and elements, of course, but I love that old saying about not writing because you want to say something, but because you have something to say. Say something worth saying, and say it with heart. If I had only one piece of advice to give, that would be it.

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

Mistakes in a script are almost always structural, because almost everything emerges from structure. Dialogue, characterization, theme, it all emerges from structure. If you don’t understand structure, you’re in trouble. When I work with clients, the first thing I do with problem scripts is talk to the writer about structure. The mistakes and solutions are almost always located there.

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

Easy killing. Doesn’t matter whether it’s a cop who easily kills a bad guy, or an action star killing hordes of bad guys, easily, without remorse, and without ever getting shot him or herself. Killing as a relatively trivial thing is the worst trope of all in my opinion, and it can’t go away fast enough.

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

-Write only if you enjoy writing, because the chances of making a living at it are extremely remote.

-Learn your craft.

-Never submit a first draft of anything.

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

Thank You for Smoking.” It came to me when I was a director of development. Out of thousands and thousands of scripts I read, I recommended 34, despite the fact that I worked for major producers who were getting the best scripts from the best agencies, but that was it: 34 out of over 5,000 scripts, all from the best agencies in the business. “Wag the Dog” and “Dangerous Minds” are some of the scripts I recommended. Every other script, the ones I didn’t recommend, had structural problems.

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

Yes, if they’re the right ones. I always tell beginning writers to never submit their first, second, third or even fourth scripts to the industry itself – producers, agents, etc., but rather to contests, especially contests that give feedback. That way if their first few scripts are subpar, they’re not going to be branded by industry people as subpar writers. And the feedback from the contests can help them figure out what their weaknesses are.

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

Email me at scripts90@gmail.com. I don’t do coverage anymore, but I do story notes, polishes, rewrites, and adaptations.

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

Apple pie with ice cream.

The benefit of connecting with people in person

Availability of coffee is always a pleasant option
Face-to-face. Classic. Effective.

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.