Behold the tactile experience

A few weeks ago, I printed a copy of the animated fantasy-comedy, and then posted on social media about holding the actual document in my hands and the sensations that resulted from doing that.

(Quick note – said sensations were of a very positive nature. There’s definitely something to be said about holding a physical manifestation of all the time and effort you put into this draft. It’s exhilarating. Uplifting, even. A true sense of accomplishment. And then eagerly accepting the next step of figuring out what’s wrong with it and how to fix it/make it better.)

The post yielded quite a wide spectrum of responses. From “Totally agree. It’s fantastic!” to “I can’t imagine NOT printing it” to “You still print out scripts?”

As I matter of fact, I do. I find it to be incredibly helpful when it comes to editing, proofreading, and overall polishing.

As more than a few people put it, “Printing out a script is a necessary part of my process. I can see things on a page I’m holding that I might not see on a screen.”

That can definitely apply to me. After I finish a draft, I’ll step away from it for a few weeks, then print it out (double-sided) and have at it with red pen in hand. I go through the whole thing page by page, line by line, marking it up as much as necessary.

Could there be some kind of subconscious connection between holding an honest-to-goodness physical printout in your hands and what it does to your creative process? Beats me, but it seems to really make a difference.

I’m much more likely to spot something that needs to be changed when it’s on a piece of paper rather than on a screen. A line of dialogue that doesn’t work or needs retooling. A scene that doesn’t flow the way I need it to, so I try rearranging it. Or those most common of miscreants – a typo, a misspelled word, or a rogue punctuation mark. It happens.

Sometimes I’ll have a page that’s totally mark-free, or maybe one or two little fixes. Sometimes the page has got more red ink and edit marks than actual text, or my notes and comments occupy a lot of that white space.

All of it – not uncommon.

One interesting side note – many’s the time I’d have to decide about cutting something I was hesitant to cut. I would then figure out what was best for the script and story, and not what I wanted. If cutting this or rearranging that resulted in the scene, and subsequently the script, being better, then so be it. The usual follow-up to that was I’d make the change, then immediately forget about what was cut because the new version was better.

Once all the changes and fixes have been taken care of this draft, I’ll go back to the beginning and start implementing those changes and fixes on the digital copy.

Also not uncommon – trying to read my own handwriting, which can occasionally border on appearing microscopic in size from me trying to cram too many notes on the page. It might take a few passes to read it, but I eventually get there.

Before I know it – voila! A new draft.

Printing out my scripts to do some more work on them in order to make the next draft better is a process that’s served me quite well over the years, and I don’t see any reason to stop doing it.

At least buy me a drink first

Pop quiz!

You’ve got a script you’re quite excited about. You’ve slaved away on it and now can’t wait to show it off to the rest of the world.

But you want to make sure it’s as good as it can be, and that means getting feedback.

Who do you ask?

Is it:

A – a professional script consultant

B – somebody in your network of writers

C – a total stranger you just met. Like, minutes ago

And the answer is…?

Okay. Pencils down.

It would be nice to think that common sense, logic, and professionalism would influence your answer.

A and B are both correct.

Unfortunately, there are some who think it’s C, and are very adamant about that decision.

I was recently on the receiving end of such a scenario. A writer had asked to connect on a social media platform, I accepted, and within a matter of minutes received links to a trailer and pitch deck for their script.

I responded with a blunt “thanks”, to which they said they were looking for help to improve the script.

I said I’d try to think of some suggestions for consultants and services they could check out.

They were hoping I’d do it, to which I responded “I charge for notes too”.

They took that as “I accept your offer, and will now work with you!” and sent an NDA for me to sign.

I’m sure you can guess what my reaction to that was.

I tried to end it by saying that starting a connection with “Thanks! Read my stuff! Help me!” was not the way to go. Shockingly, they failed to get the point and kept going.

There were a few other issues that came up, so let’s just say the rest of our exchange proceeded to go downhill like an out-of-control bobsled on fire.

FOR CRYIN’ OUT LOUD – DON’T DO THIS!!

I get it. The enthusiasm. The heightened adrenaline. The hope/daydream that anybody who reads your script will immediately proclaim it “best ever!”

What a lot of writers, both new and those still learning, fail to comprehend is that part of being successful at screenwriting is establishing and maintaining professional relationships. You can’t just jump right in with a total stranger and say “You don’t know me, but I want you to help me”.

Would you want to be on the receiving end of that? Of course not. So why do some writers feel it’s a savvy move? If anything, you’re sabotaging yourself before you even get started.

It’s essential to take the time to build your personal network, and one of the key phrases here is “take the time”. Nothing happens in the blink of an eye. It requires patience, tact, and civility.

Putting in the time and effort to be a good screenwriter isn’t only about the writing. Knowing how to play well with others is just as important.

Be nice to people. Treat them how you’d want to be treated. Help them out if/when you can.

Then you meet for drinks.

That’s how you do it.

Which one are you?

I’ve been very fortunate over the past few years to have connected with writers from literally all over the world. Strong professional relationships have been established and maintained (when possible). Because of these strong bonds, it’s not uncommon for me to receive an email from somebody in a far-off location with a question, a request, or seeking a recommendation.

And more than a few times I’ve been the one sending an email of that nature.

Each of these relationships took time to develop. Nothing was instantaneous. Most likely it was the result of somebody responding to something one of us said on social media. Even if I don’t know the person, I’ll treat them with courtesy, respect, and the occasional self-deprecating joke.

Wouldn’t trade any of these connections for anything. Maintaining contact with other writers is good on several levels. It makes me feel like part of the community. It’s great to talk shop about our respective projects or our experiences. Doing all of this reminds me that there are LOTS of other people out there going through the same sorts of things.

Then there are those who feel the need to showcase their “expertise” by throwing shade on my question or comment.

“Well, that’s stupid”

“And you think this is a good idea because…?”

“I hate to tell you this, but that won’t work”

And the always-classic “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…”

The only reason I’d give a second thought to this kind of reaction is if it were from somebody with whom I’ve established that professional relationship. They’d also say it in a more constructive manner with the intent to help, rather than denigrate.

Admittedly, there will always be somebody I don’t know or haven’t interacted with, but am connected with in some capacity. For the sake of this argument, that’s pretty much the equivalent of talking with a stranger. If you see the need to go negative under the guise of “telling it like it is”, why should I even pay attention to you? These sorts of reactions tend to guide me to the “Disconnect” or “Unfollow” button and give it a hearty click without a moment’s hesitation.

I’m always open to connecting and interacting with other writers, but respect is a two-way street. I’ll treat you the way I’d want to be treated, and hope you feel the same.

If not, well, it was nice knowing you and good luck with all your future endeavors.

Moral of the story: Be supportive, encouraging, and sympathetic when possible. Repeat.

Still a thing?

That little paper box full of extra cards is tucked away somewhere

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of being interviewed on the Telling The Show podcast to talk about networking as it relates to screenwriters.

Over the course of the discussion came this question: in pre-COVID times, it wasn’t uncommon for a writer to have a business card. Does a writer still need one?

I thought it was a great question, and had to really think about it.

My initial thought is probably not, especially due to how most networking is now done online, and most writers have their phone with them, so contact – or at least reaching out – can be practically instantaneous.

What good is having a card to hand out when you’re practically isolated and there’s nobody around to hand it to? These days you’re more likely to connect with somebody via a social media platform, so you’ll probably do everything via email and/or texting in order to set up meeting one-on-one.

A lot of writers now have a strong online presence – websites, blogs, an account on Youtube, Twitter, Instagram, etc., so it’s significantly easier to get in touch with somebody to strike up a conversation, or at least establish a professional relationship.

Keeping that in mind, in-person interaction is slowly coming back, so if we get to the point where you show up at a venue where you don’t know anybody, and then have some nice conversations with people, would you want to have a card to hand out, or be comfortable asking for their email address?

There are exceptions, of course. A majority of writers tend to be on the introverted side, so dealing with a real live person can be somewhat intimidating. This makes online networking easier for some people. Somebody quiet and shy in person might be more involved or outgoing on a Zoom call or on Twitter.

Just as an example, I recently tweeted a compliment to the hosts of another screenwriting podcast regarding the interview they did with a high-profile manager (I also included the manager in the tweet). Both hosts and the manager liked it, and another writer friend of mine added in his two cents, leading to a brief discussion among all of them.

I didn’t do it because I was trying to suck up to the hosts or hope the manager would offer to read something; it was because I liked what I’d heard, and wanted to let them know that. Would I have achieved the same results if this had been done in person? I’m going to go with “slightly maybe, but probably not to the same extent”.

Online interaction is one of the things I encourage for writers seeking to expand their network. Nobody’s going to get to know you if you hang back and stay quiet. Become involved. Join conversations. Just make sure to be polite, civil and respectful.

There are forums and group chats to take part in, as well as lots of screenwriting groups on Facebook. I find the smaller ones to be better because the members tend to be more experienced, more mature, and of a more rational temperament.

Networking and interacting has really changed, especially over the past few years. But one thing remains the same: online or in person, business card or no, be the kind of person you’d want to know.

A little effort with big results

Who doesn’t like hearing that somebody liked something you wrote? Great feeling, isn’t it? You’ve put all that time and effort into it, and this is the response?

Now look at it from the other side – you read something and really liked it. Did you like it enough to let the writer know?

Go ahead and do that. It doesn’t even have to be somebody you know, or who asked you for a read.

It could be somebody with a script you read after hearing good things about it, or who wrote a book or a movie you really enjoyed.

Since so many creative types have an online presence, it’s becoming easier and easier to drop them a line and tell them what a great job they did.

I’ve done this a few times over the past few weeks. One was a veteran comic book writer, one was the creative team behind a show on Netflix, and another was the writer of a great low-budget horror-comedy. The latter two let me know how much they really appreciated it, while the former never responded, which is also a possibility. I just file it under “one of those things” and move on.

This isn’t saying you need to send a gushing lovefest of an email or tweet; just a few lines telling them you liked it. Probably take you all of a minute or two.

It can’t be stressed enough how much of a positive impact this sort of thing can have on a creator. Maybe they were having a rough day, and then your email or tweet pops up. Mood lifted.

It’s tough enough to succeed as a writer, so getting this little bit of encouragement out of the blue could go a long way in feeling like all the work you put in was worth it.

Even better – being the one who sent it.