Ask an Ubiquitous* Script Consultant!

Danny Manus
*Seriously. The guy’s, like, everywhere. Podcasts, social media, online articles, you name 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 Danny Manus of No Bullscript Consulting.

Danny Manus is the former Director of Development for Sandstorm Films (The Covenant, 8MM2) and Clifford Werber Productions (Cinderella Story, Just Add Water), where he sold “To Oz” to United Artists. He’s the author of “No B.S. for Screenwriters: Advice from the Executive Perspective” and was ranked one of the Top 15 “Cream of the Crop” script consultants in CS Magazine. He was also named one of Screencraft’s “25 People Screenwriters Should Follow on Twitter.”

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

The best written things I’ve watched lately have been on TV. There are movies I’ve really enjoyed – Chef, Planet of the Apes, Guardians of the Galaxy, Fault in our Stars, Bad Words, etc. – but none this year yet that I thought were OMG fantastic writing. To be fair, I haven’t seen Boyhood yet. But for me, TV is where the best material is these days. My favorite new comedy is You’re the Worst on FXX. I also really enjoyed The Last Ship on TNT and Masters of Sex on Showtime this summer. I’m sure there are wonderfully written books out there, but I don’t get to read them.

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

My first start was as an intern about 13 years ago at Columbia Tri-Star in TV Development and 20TH Century Fox Feature Casting. I was charged with reading everything that came in and doing coverage on them. But I used to go through their archive library and just read as many as I could, especially at Tri-Star. My coverage was liked by the VPs I worked under so much that they loaned me out to the SVP (Sarah Timberman at the time, who would not remember me if you paid her) and then the President at the time. Those gigs gave me enough coverage samples to land my first assistant job after I graduated.

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

Recognizing bad writing is something anyone can do. Recognizing great writing is something that can be taught and learned with time and experience. As a first year assistant and intern, I could tell you what was written poorly. But it took a few years of reading hundreds and hundreds of scripts to TRULY understand good writing. And many thousands of scripts later, I’m still learning.

You can’t read a book on screenwriting and think you’re suddenly able to be a professional consultant or reader or writer. There is no checklist given to new readers, it’s learned on the job – that’s why it’s SO important for writers to READ. Though I actually did develop a checklist I used to give to my interns. It was 110 items long. But if you’re a great reader, they are all just in your head and you notice them naturally.

4. What are the components of a good script?

There are basic elements everyone agrees on – a concept and hook that sparks a reaction and has potential to lead somewhere intriguing; compelling, three-dimensional characters who make you want to follow them; dialogue that feels sharp and precise yet natural and flows; enough growing conflict and high enough stakes to keep ones interest; and a plot that progresses throughout the script in interesting ways. Every script should have strong setups, executions and payoffs. But to make it go from good to great, it’s about the X-factor. Some of that is voice, but some of it is just the right writer writing the right story in the right way at the right time. That’s when true brilliance strikes. And it doesn’t happen often.

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

I see them all. I mean, the biggest mistakes are that writers are writing stories that aren’t MOVIES. They’re just not strong enough ideas or hooks to be movies in the current studio or indie marketplace. Or that the writer doesn’t know the hook of their idea. Or that the writer uses too many COINCIDENCES or serendipitous moments to create plot.

Actually, you know what the #1 mistake I see is? The use of YOU’RE and YOUR! I mean, WTF people – it’s not that hard to know the difference. Thinking that typos and grammar and format don’t matter – they do!

The biggest non-craft mistakes writers make is not doing their research and not knowing ANYTHING about the actual business. And secondly, submitting projects LONG before they’re ready to be submitted. Querying and pitching on a first draft or before a script is even written, entering contests with a first draft, posting their second drafts on websites. The biggest mistake I see is desperation and impatience outweighing common sense and good judgment.

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

I could go the rest of my life without seeing another Geek to Chic Teen story. Or the Christmas tale of someone losing their Xmas spirit until X happens. Or the story of the struggling writer trying to break into Hollywood and X happens. The Screenwriter protagonist CAN work – but 98% of the time it doesn’t and I like to play the odds. In terms of character, if I never have to read about another female rape victim or domestic abuse victim, I’d be okay with that too. Those are so common in scripts it’s lost its meaning. But in the end, what I always say is – Don’t run from the cliché, just make it seem NOT cliché. That’s a writer’s job.

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

-It’s not called the artist colony, it’s called the Film Business. So treat it like one. And if you want this to be a career, treat it like one.

-Writing is rewriting and if you can’t take notes and really truly rewrite, you’ll never have a lasting career.

-Your first draft and first script is SUPPOSED to suck. If you think your first script is going to sell and make you rich, you’re living in a dream world. Just. Keep. Writing.

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

Absolutely. But most were already projects in development written by top notch writers. I have had a number of clients whose projects were Recommends – but none were like that on the first draft. I can’t really divulge the loglines though.

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

There are about 15 contests out there that are completely worth it that I highly recommend, and about 250 contests out there that aren’t. If you win a major, prestigious contest it can definitely start your career and get you noticed. But if you’re continuously a quarterfinalist or not even making the quarters, then you’re not ready yet. Or your script isn’t. Contests are absolutely worthwhile IF your script and writing is at a level where you can be in the top 100 writers out of 8,000. If you can’t say that, then you’re probably wasting $40. Keep in mind – the Top 10 contests get about 45,000 submissions total. And they give out about 150 prizes to finalists and winners. So, those are your chances. Your script has to be REALLY fucking good. But as someone who has had multiple major contest winners and finalists as clients, that’s what I’m here for.

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

You can always check out my website and services at www.nobullscript.net and follow me on Twitter @Dannymanus (I was named one of Screencraft’s 25 People Screenwriters Should Follow on Twitter).

And if interested, I’m running a 4-week online course “Creating More Compelling, Castable Characters” which starts Sept 26th and it’s going to be a great class. So, I encourage everyone to check out details at www.compellingcharacters.eventbrite.com

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

I’m an apple pie guy, though a good chocolate cream pie with the chocolate mousse and whipped cream…nom nom nom.

Why so hostile?

Angry voice!
Angry voice!

I’ve been making an effort over the past few weeks to build my network of writing acquaintances, which has involved connecting on assorted social media networks.

Several of these include groups of like-minded people that offer up the opportunity to ask questions, get feedback, etc.

One of them was about loglines.

Feeling fairly confident but open to suggestions about the one for my western, I typed it in, hoping somebody might have some helpful comments.

Within minutes, the response came in: “…or? What’s at stake? What are the consequences?”

Hmm. Well, her train’s been stolen, which…puts her livelihood at stake?  And it’s going to be used in a major heist, so the consequences are…widespread? I’ve always hated this part. Maybe I’m not giving enough information?

I wrote back: “open to suggestions.”

Past experience with logline feedback via online forums, while occasionally frustrating, has sometimes yielded positive results.

Sometimes.

A few minutes later: “I’m a producer and script consultant, not a psychic. If I knew what the story was about, knew the protagonist’s motives, knew what the antagonist was doing and why, and knew what was at stake and the consequences of certain actions, I would make a suggestion. However, with so little on offer, there’s little I can do other repeat what I’ve already said.

I’m not arguing anything after the word ‘psychic’. It’s not easy to get all of that across in a logline. It’s much harder than most writers realize.

(Side note – I love it when somebody backs up their comments with the proclamation of their qualifications. As expected, a quick internet search of this person’s “producer and script consultant” credentials yielded both jack and squat. It took a lot of effort to not ask them for more details.)

Desperately seeking resolution, I offered: “Would you be willing to take a look at the 1-page synopsis to get a better understanding of the story?

Soon afterward: “based on your logline, no”

And that was that.

While I didn’t have a problem with the actual advice, there just seemed to be this overall tone of angry condescension in their text. “Grr! I know what I’m talking about! My advice is infallible and you’re an idiot if you don’t listen to me! Grr! Argh!” Maybe I was just reading too much into it?

Honestly, it kind of nagged at me for the rest of the day. I always thought the point of these groups was to help each other. Sure, sometimes people just don’t get it, but I’m more likely to appreciate your comments if you seem willing/interested in actually helping me.

Later in the day, somebody with no connection to me whatsoever called this person out for being unnecessarily cruel (a bit harsh, but I understood where they were coming from). I made a point of staying totally out of what soon became a snippy back-and-forth of “I’m right, you’re wrong”.

So much for taking part in that group again.

Still seeking some kind of help, I tried again on a different forum, but approached it from a different angle.

I listed the logline plus some key story details that might help, adding how I was seeking some bolstering in terms of including stakes and consequences. (The original responder may have come across as an asshole, but I didn’t think their advice was wrong.)

There was a significant difference in the responses. A lot were not only helpful, but practical and encouraging, including this gem – “I love this logline. If I were a producer I’d want to read it. Hell, I still want to read it, just because it sounds like fun.”

I felt a little better, had what I felt was a stronger logline, and a few requests to read the script. Nice.

As part of that aforementioned back-and-forth, my original responder said they were just preparing new writers for the kinds of responses they should expect from the industry if they submit “subpar material”.

While I can understand that kind of thinking, it seems that people are more likely to heed your advice or suggestions if you actually come across as helpful, rather than sound like we’re wasting your time and the last thing you want to deal with right now.

But then again, I’m just a nice guy to begin with, so what do I know?

Slightly easier (but I still don’t like it)

Takes a while to really get it right
Takes a while to really get it right

After a great discussion of his notes for the western spec, my manager’s script guy said those words I have always and will probably continue to dread.

“All we need now is your logline and one-pager.”

Ugh.

You know that feeling of loathing when there’s something you really don’t want to do, but know that you absolutely have to? That’s exactly how I felt, and from what I understand, I’m not alone in this.

But like I said, it had to be done.

First up was the logline. I’d already spent a lot of time working on this, so most of the heavy lifting was out of the way. Turns out it just needed a little tightening up, so yay on that front.

Which brings us to the one-page synopsis.

Double ugh.  Calling it the bane of my existence is a little harsh. More like a necessary evil.

Using what I did last year for DREAMSHIP as a model, I opted to put it together like a slightly extended version of what you would read on the back of a paperback novel.

A quick overview-setup establishing the major character and main storyline, then some hints/teasers at what comes after things really get started, followed by a sort of cliffhanger about the ending.

As was explained to me, to convert the potentially-interested into the definitely-interested, the synopsis has to really capture the tone of your script and not focus as much on what happens. The more concise and descriptive you can be regarding what the story’s about rather than the story itself, the better. Go into too much detail and you’ve lost their interest.

It took a few attempts, but in the end I had what I consider to be a pretty strong synopsis. There will most likely have to be some rewrites, but that’s okay. The hard part’s done.

In the meantime, it’s back to the mystery spec rewrite. Rest assured that as I work my way through the second half, my always-reliable subconscious will keep reminding me of one absolute truth:

“You know you’re going to have to write a one-pager for this one too, right?”

Triple ugh.

Saying more with less

The digital version of this is inevitable
The digital version of this is inevitable

Logline and synopsis update!

Just some minor tweaking of the logline, and the synopsis is “good, but too long.” Could I maybe tighten it up, and how about ending with a cliffhanger?

You mean after spending so much time delicately crafting everything so it all flowed smoothly, I’m supposed to just go in and hack it all up?

Exactly.  Streamline what I already have, cut the non-essentials, and focus solely on the main storyline.

This was challenging, but it had to be done (and could potentially help me get over my dislike of writing a synopsis in the first place)

I worked my way through it and ended up with a tighter, better version, including a double cliffhanger.

One of the best pieces of writing advice I’ve ever heard was during a workshop with UCLA’s Richard Walter:

Write as if ink costs a thousand dollars an ounce.

Which are you more likely to want to read? A script with lots of white space on the page, or one with big, black blocks of dialogue and action lines?

It’s not enough to have a well-crafted story. You want the words and pages to really move, and a minimal amount of text can help make that happen.

Go through that scene you just finished. Figure out how to shorten it, keeping only what’s necessary.

Don’t think anything can be cut? Look again. Adverbs and prepositional phrases are good places to start.

You want the reading experience to be a breeze, not a slog. Too many words can do that.

-Finally attempted the Great Baklava Experiment. Apart from somewhat time-consuming and working with phyllo dough, not as difficult as I thought.  Maybe a little too much sauce, which is probably better than not enough.

Overall, consider it a success.

Now to figure out what to make next.

Pedal to the metal

It may be kmph, but it's still fast
It may be kmph, but it’s still fast

Nice to be back. Didja miss me?

Y’know, visiting three major metropolitan areas in a week (four if you count the one where I started and ended AKA home) can really tire a guy out.

So while I work on readjusting to my native time zone, I’m also working on getting some writing-related affairs in order.

-Due to a last-minute family medical emergency, my manager had to cancel our face-to-face meeting. Bummer. And his assistant was up to his eyeballs in reducing his steadily-growing workload, so he couldn’t meet either. Double bummer.

Fortunately, there is a silver lining: I got emails from both the next day about the rewrite. Overall: great job, nice scene changes and choices, very solid structure.

Up next – a “high-octane” logline and synopsis. Although I’ve always had problems with the latter, I really like the sound of that particular adjective.

“High-octane.”  Sounds fast, powerful and strong.

This is a fast-moving script with lots of swashbuckling action, so that’s the mood my 1-2 sentence description and 1-pager should convey.

The logline and synopsis are your best chances to really showcase what your story’s about, but letting the genre do the heavy lifting. Comedy – play up the jokes. Thriller – keep us in suspense. Horror – scare us.

In my case – adventure – both logline and synopsis should give you an idea of what kind of rollercoaster ride you’re in for.

I’ve written before about what a solid logline should include, but just in case: hero with a flaw, villain with a goal, the conflict between the two, and what’s at stake.

The synopsis has always given me trouble. It’s easy to get lost trying to accurately describe the story. You want to include all the cool stuff, but you can’t.  As a result, here’s a tip I’ve found very, very helpful: focus on the main character and their storyline. Don’t worry about the subplots and supporting characters.

Although it comes from publishing, this may be a huge help for those also struggling with the synopsis.

You’d think after tackling a 100+-page script, writing the same story in one page would be easy. But it isn’t.

But it is doable. Like for a script or any kind of writing, you just have to work at it.