Another chapter comes to an end

Thus my ongoing journey goes on...
Thus my ongoing journey goes on…

It all started with a website designed specifically for getting feedback on your logline.  In concept, a great idea. You post your logline, other writers let you know what they think of it and how it could possibly be improved.

On this site, there are a handful of commenters who offer their thoughts on pretty much every single entry (a lot of which, I have to admit, are very poorly written. Hence the seeking out of feedback).

Earlier this week, on a total whim, I posted the logline for my Chinese restaurant script. No intention of changing it. Just wanted to see what people thought.

To refresh your memory, here it is again: A Caucasian chef in a struggling family-run Chinese restaurant takes on a sleazy powerhouse competitor determined to shut it down.

Perfect? Of course not. Does it need work? Sure. But the rewrite of this script is an extremely low-priority item, so I’m not that worried about it.

And the reaction?

Lo and behold, a grand total of two comments from two of the usual suspects.

The first substituted “humble” for “Caucasian”, then suggested I describe what it is they do to save the restaurant.

Pass.

The second said that the stakes should be “hire” (sic). How does the main character change over the course of the story? (this one I can understand) Could I add a ticking time bomb element (a particular favorite of this commenter’s)? Was it a comedy (“Sounds like Dodgeball, but with restaurants.”)?

And the one that really sealed the deal for me – “Success or failure of a restaurant is not that big a deal in the grand scheme of things.” Besides the fact that any family who owns a struggling restaurant would probably want to bash your head in for such a statement, you’re saying the story’s not important enough?

Words fail me. It’s almost as if they’re working off a checklist. And misspelling a common word like “higher” severely damages your credibility.

Pass to the Nth degree.

So that’s it. I’m done. While I may occasionally pop in to look around, I definitely will not be seeking opinions from this site ever again and instead rely on my network of friends and trusted colleagues to tell me what I’m doing wrong.

Ask an Industry-Powerhouse Script Consultant!

Lee Jessup

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 Lee Jessup.

Author of the best-selling book Getting It Write: An Insider’s Guide To A Screenwriting Career, Lee Jessup is a career coach for professional and emerging screenwriters, with an exclusive focus on the screenwriter’s professional development. Her clients include WGA members, Golden Globe and Emmy nominated screenwriters, writers who sold screenplays and pitches to major studios and contest winner. An invited speaker at screenwriting conferences and festivals both in the US and Europe, Lee is a regular contributor to Script Magazine and was the interview subject for a number of film-centric television and web programs. To learn more about Lee and her services, visit www.leejessup.com.

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

It’s a cliché, but I always go back to Breaking Bad episodes, which is probably fresh in my mind because I just did that the other night. That’s master craft right there. I’ve been reading a lot of TV scripts lately; one of the best I read recently actually came from a client who wrote a really amazing, intricate pilot with some amazing, innovative character work. Sadly, I’m not allowed to say who. Can’t play favorites!

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

I started reading scripts as a kid – my dad was a film producer, and so we always had scripts lying around the house. I thought everyone read scripts and broke them down for fun – it took me a while to get that some people (like my mother) just can’t wrap their brains around reading that format. After all, a script is not fully realized work – it’s a blueprint made to be elevated by imagination.

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

The more you read, the better you learn to recognize quality. When I send my clients to readers, I am always looking for people who are super-seasoned, who’ve read thousands of scripts, because that foundation really informs the reader about what’s out there and  provides a more solid quality barometer. When someone just starts out reading, they can often find promise in the work, whether or not it’s actually there. It’s after you’ve been reading for a while that you begin really evaluating the script for what’s on the page, rather than the potential your imagination allows you to see in it.

4. What are the components of a good script?

For me it all starts with character, so “must-haves” are things like: wound, stakes, clear goal(s), ample conflict. Michael Hauge has a great saying that a strong screenplay rests at the intersection of story and character. That’s a big one for me. Don’t get me wrong – a strong, clear external journey to take us from act 1 to 3 is a must, but if you don’t have that internal journey, that element of taking a protagonist from living in fear to living courageously, you lose me. At the end of the day, I always look to see what the protagonist’s goal was, whether this was achieved or reversed, and if it was done, whether it was done to satisfaction.

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

Page count is the most obvious one. I am sure you’ve heard this before, but I find it to be one that’s very, very hard to recover from because ultimately it’s your first impression. Second is another one of those: not enough white space on the page. The look of the material itself. I recently interviewed Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski, and Scott talked about the fact that script pages are meant to be read from top to bottom, not left to right. When I am unable to read from top to bottom, when the script is overly described, then the writer automatically has a serious strike against him. Other things that drive me crazy are scenes that don’t move the plot along, or ones that repeat information we already know without giving us anything new. Hitchcock was famous for saying that in every scene you have to get at least two new bits of plot-relevant information, specifically once you’re out of the first act. That’s a great rule to go by.

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

I am one of those who believes that anything old can be made new again with a new, different, unexpected take, so in this scenario I am actually open to seeing anything so long as there’s a fresh, interesting voice behind it.

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

1. This is a craft; you get better as you go along (which means: write a lot!)

2. Screenwriting is iterative work. No one gets it right on the first draft. This is why you finish a draft, you get notes, you finish another draft, you get another set of notes, etc. It’s all part of the process.

3. While writing great screenplays is critical to screenwriting success, it’s only part of what it will take to build your screenwriting career. Building a screenwriting career takes consistent industry-facing efforts that will help construct and progress your screenwriting career. As a writer, your job is to consistently stoke and manage both the creative fire and your industry-facing, strategic fire.

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

Gonna have to pass on this one if only for client confidentiality…

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

Winning a big contest is a big deal, which just goes to show that contests are a small-fish/big-pond sort of a game. In order for a win to really work for you, it has to be in one of the biggies, where in truth even high placement goes a long way. For example, every year my clients who place in quarters or semis for the Nicholl Fellowship get multiple read requests from agents, managers and production companies. It’s a way for industry execs to have material vetted for them, and qualified for them to read. In addition, being able to say that you won, were a finalist or a semi-finalist in one of the BIG contests, such as Final Draft’s Big Break or PAGE is generally a door opener. The industry is a bit like the mafia – we need someone to vouch for you. The big contests can certainly help you build that pedigree.

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

Everything anyone ever needs to know about me (and then some!!!) can be found on my website: www.leejessup.com. There’s a full breakdown of how I work, what I do and all the rest of it.

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

Chocolate mousse. Hands down. No question.

Finding the positive in a negative

 

Converting something acidic to tasty and refreshing requires a little bit of knowing how
Converting potentially acidic to tastily refreshing requires a little bit of knowing how

Notes on both my western and mystery-comedy specs have been flowing in steadily from friends and trusted colleagues over the past couple of months, and the results have certainly been a mixed bag of opinions.

The general message is “Love the concept, solid structure, but ____, ____ and ____ needs work.” The individual comments, of course, are much more assorted. Happily, none are of the “This sucks! Do the world a favor and give up writing!” nature.

Show the same material to half a dozen people, and you’ll end up with half a dozen different reactions. And as you would expect, each one is helpful in its own way, especially if it includes something you may not necessarily agree with.

But here’s where it gets even better – take all of those notes and use the ones that you think make the most sense. Apply them to your script. Does it immediately read better?

Now let’s take it a step further, but this time with those comments you don’t agree with. What is about them that doesn’t work for you? Give ’em another look. Maybe there’s something in there worth using.

I got some great notes on the western, and one of the suggestions was cutting or at least shortening some sequences in Act Two. Of course, my initial reaction was “Not a chance!”

But this was defeating the whole purpose of getting notes – to make the script better. And me being so obstinate about it wasn’t helping.

So I read it again, this time with a more open mind. Would this work? Would it accomplish what I needed it to? The suggestion started to make sense. I’d already cut 12 pages out of this thing, so there was no reason I couldn’t trim a few scenes down. It wouldn’t hurt the story, and could actually improve it in terms of moving things along.

You get notes to help point out what’s wrong with your script, or at least what needs to be fixed. You can use them however you want, but to totally disregard them isn’t doing you any favors.

Ask a Talent-of-Colossal-Proportions Script Consultant!

Barri Evins

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 Barri Evins of Big Ideas.

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

A few contest scripts impress me each year. I wrote about one that swept me off my feet in my ScriptMag.com Column: Breaking & Entering – Great Writing – A Love Story. A good rewrite from a writer I was consulting with who made a huge leap between drafts. In terms of what I’ve watched, it’s TV that’s knocked my socks off of late.

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

In kindergarten. Well, practically. Grew up reading plays and studying theatre. Convinced that background would be an albatross around my neck in the film business. I was trying to get my first industry job after moving to Los Angeles, and a lit agent my brother was friends with from a fraternity connection set me up on interviews. He gave me a script that was on its way to becoming a major movie with an A-list actor and told me to do story notes on it as a sample. I did a pretty good job of it, and impressed some folks in meetings, but wound up working at the agency. It was grueling in terms of amount of work and amount of hours, but I read a ton in features and in TV, and I learned a ton. In eight months (that’s pretty fast) I moved on to a Development Associate job and then Story Editor for writer/producers Bruce Evans and Raynold Gideon where I learned a ton and read so much my distance vision deteriorated! Ironically, it was the theatre degree that helped win me the job.

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

I always believed that it could be taught, as I’ve taught coverage to literally jillions of interns, many of whom have gone on to be very successful in the industry, as well as part of a course I taught at the UCLA Graduate Producing Program. However, I had one very lovely intern who simply could not tell good writing from, well, dreck. It was like being colorblind. She got a little encouragement from me to look into other areas of the industry and became a successful publicist.

4. What are the components of a good script?

A great concept, that delivers on the promise of the premise, with strong storytelling. Yum.

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

Oy. Here’s my current bone to pick – I call it “Too Much Tinsel On Your Tree.” The overcomplicated story where the writer has crammed in so much that we simply don’t know what’s going on. Diagnosis of that syndrome can be found here in a guest blog by my dear friend, Dr. Paige Turner, who steps in and answers writers’ sticky questions in a column she likes to call, “S-E-X Tips for Screenwriters.”

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

If I never, ever, ever read another story where something happens to make the main character revisit their small hometown after 20 years absence, I would be thrilled. That said, I will probably come across a terrific one now that I’ve gone on record with this. But I somehow doubt it.

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

Outline, outline, and get an outside opinion, preferably from a professional because you’re just too close to your own work and your mom thinks everything you do is “just terrific, honey.”

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

Yup, but the execution was horrid, I mean terrible on almost every count, and my company couldn’t get our studio to buy it based on the great concept. Another studio wound up doing it, but took it in the complete wrong direction. So I’d rather not share the logline. Sorry.

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

Depends on the contest and what the writer is looking to achieve. I used to write a column on screenwriting contests for MovieBytes.com – a terrific, free online source of info on contests by writers. I’d ask questions of judges I think writers would want to ask, so I know a bit about contests from different angles.

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

I consult on everything from loglines to screenplays to queries, as well as offer custom packages and mentorship. My website is www.bigBIGideas.com, which includes my consulting page, where you have the opportunity to “Pitch Me For Free” and get a thumbs up or down on a concept.

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

Key Lime, baby. I’m a Florida girl.

Am I getting better?

Go ahead. Tell me the truth. I can take it.
How does it compare to last time?

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.

Or at least somebody tells me.