Script Notes by Chad Gervich - Reader Questions

READER QUESTION: Are screenwriting contests a waste of time?

Chad — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 23:14:49 GMT

Thanks to Elaine Luddy Kionicki for today's question, which she asked in response to Sunday's post about Scriptapalooza. Elaine writes:

Hey Chad. Most screenwriting books say that contests are a waste of time and money, and you've said in a previous post that contests rarely pay off, but it sounds like you're endorsing this one. Is Scriptapalooza one of the exceptions? Either way, thanks for the info.

That's a good question, Elaine, and to be honest, I don't think most screenwriting contests are a great way to start a career. Rarely-- and I mean rarely-- have I ever heard of someone winning a screenwriting contest that launches them as a working Hollywood screenwriter.

Many contests, including Scriptapalooza, love to advertise how many scripts they've gotten in front of execs or agents or producers... and maybe they have. But where are those screenwriters now? Are they selling movies? Writing on assignment? It's not hard for someone running a screenwriting contest to call some friends at production companies, agencies, studios, or wherever and ask a favor-- "Hey, we're doing a screenwriting contest... we'd love to have you read the top five winners. Would you do that?" It doesn't mean the exec will meet with the writers... it doesn't mean they'll produce the scripts... hell, it doesn't even mean they'll finish the script. So as with all things in Hollywood, talk-- especially from screenwriting contests-- is cheap.

Having said that-- I don't think contests are necessarily value-less. At the very least, winning something means somebody liked your writing! And in a world where, as a writer, 99% of what you'll hear is rejection-- even when you're an A-list screenwriter-- that validation is nice.

And maybe you'll be the exception, like Michael Martin, who wins a contest and DOES launch a career.

I just think that if you're going to enter a contest, you should be aware of what contests do/don't do for your career... and temper your expectations (and motivations for applying) accordingly.

Also, there are very few contests that I'll actually post up here-- because I usually DON'T think they're worth their salt-- and Scriptapalooza is one of the few reputable ones that Hollywood people know about. It doesn't mean agents/producers/execs necessarily give it a lot thought or credence; the truth is-- I don't know a single agent, producer, manager, or exec who pays a lot of attention to ANY screenwriting contest. But at least Scriptapalooza isn't "Joe's Screenwriting Competition;" it's an established, known entity, so I feel comfortable putting it up here for those who want to apply.

I would never post up here any info on a random screenwriting contest which didn't have any history, reputation, etc.

So do I think screenwriting contests carry a lot of professional weight? Not really. Are they "a waste of time?" Not if you understand their true value, and you're comfortable with your own reasons and expectations when applying. And if you're going to apply, apply to the reputable ones-- Scriptapalooza, the Nicholls, etc.

Chuck's question: Am I wasting my time if I don't live in L.A.?

Chad — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 00:20:05 GMT

Hey, folks—

Today’s question comes from Chuck, who writes…

"I am writing some spec screenplays, and a pilot. But let's face it - I will never move to LA. Meetings - yes. Move - no. Am I wasting my time? I've met managers who have said "Send me something when you have something worth sending." I could probably get a rep, but, Chad, I will NEVER move there. Can a guy make any money or sell anything without being there? (Maybe this is a good question for your blog, should it continue under your stewardship.)

"Furthermore, if your answer is essentially NO, would it be wise to get some sort of partner out there (that I know and trust) that could play "pitchman" to my "writer?” Ever heard of any partnerships like that?"

First of all, Chuck, thanks for the questions. These are interesting—and not uncommon—concerns. So let’s dive in…

1) DO YOU NEED TO MOVE TO L.A. TO MAKE IT AS A SCREENWRITER?

The cold, hard, blunt truth is: yes.

But let’s talk about this…

L.A. is, obviously, the center of the American entertainment industry. Sure, TV and films are made in other cities—New York, Chicago, Atlanta—but the heart and soul of the U.S. industry is one city… Los Angeles. And in order to be part of that, you need to be here. Not because there’s something magical about the geography or location, but because this is a BUSINESS, and—as a business—you need to be able to navigate it. You need to understand its rules, its pathways, its processes… and, most importantly, you need to be able to meet and network with other players in the industry. Like most industries, Hollywood is based as much on contacts and relationships as it is on skill, talent, and ability… and if you can’t be constantly meeting, forming, and maintaining relationships, it’s very difficult to progress or excel.

Sure, you can read books, take classes, come out for meetings, attend seminars and conferences… and all of these things will help educate you. You’ll become smarter, your writing will improve, you’ll gain a better understanding of the arts, crafts, and business of Hollywood. But knowledge alone is not enough to power a career; you need on-the-ground experience, contacts and relationships, and the ability to actually participate in the industry.

An aspiring marine biologist can go to school in Omaha or Kansas City or Las Vegas, where they may be the best student in their class and a brilliant scientist. But unless they move to a coast, they’ll probably never fulfill their true marine biologist potential, no matter how brilliant they are. They can certainly make a living as an amazing teacher. Or apply their knowledge to similar areas, like environmental planning. But they’ll probably never be a leading marine biologist, because marine biologists can only work in one place: at the ocean.

Hollywood, for better or worse, is the same way. Now, fortunately, Hollywood may not ALWAYS be that way… and some of the old rules are changing… but for now, L.A. remains the place to be. But more on that in a second…

2) would it be wise to get some sort of partner out there (that I know and trust) that could play "pitchman" to my "writer?”

What you’re basically talking about is an agent or manager—someone who appreciates your writing, understands your creative voice and vision, likes and “gets” you personally, and represents you well in the phone or meetings. …Which, again, is basically an agent or manager.

So, I guess if you want and find a respectable agent/manager with the ambition, ability, and muscle to sell your stuff—sure, go for it. I DO know that many agents and managers are hesitant to signing out-of-towners, for all the reasons discussed above. Someone may be an outstanding writer, but if they don’t live here—if they’re not able to go on meetings, build their own relationships, help pound the pavement—it’s VERY tough, even for the world’s greatest agent, to sell their scripts and get them work.

(A friend of mine, who’s a pretty successful screenwriter and director, always says he knows he can never expect his agents to work harder are care more about his career than he does… and this is good advice. He also works pretty non-stop, and he once told me that he gets most of his assignments and sales on his own… then his agent helps facilitate the deal.)

Now, if you’re NOT talking about an agent or manager… if you’re talking about a more creative partner… well—I can’t say I’ve ever heard of a creative/writing partner whose sole job is pitching. Maybe it could work, but it seems odd to me.

If you write a script that starts getting meetings and attention, execs and producers will want to meet with the writer who created the script. They’re not going to want to meet with your proxy; they want to get a sense of the person behind the words. What’s he like? Is he funny and personable? Dark and quiet? Where did he grow up? Who are his influences? Is he a fun person to work with? A total boor?

They’ll also want to ask questions about your writing and this script itself. Where’d you get the idea? What’s your process like? What storytelling areas interest you?

A proxy can’t answer these questions. Or rather, they could—to a certain extent—but then they might as well be an agent or manager. (Not to mention, you’ll never find a proxy, a pitchman—including an agent or manager—who advocates or talks about your material more passionately than you do. After all, that’s why you wrote it! …You had a burning desire to tell this story! A desire that burned more eagerly in you than in anyone else… because you’re the one who wrote it! So how could anyone talk more expressively about it than you?!)

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly…

3) AM I WASTING MY TIME?

You love writing, right? It’s your release, your passion, your pleasure? Presumably, that’s why you started writing screenplays and pilots in the first place. Because you were BURNING to do it. You had stories and characters trying to claw their way out of you. So why would you give that up?! Because you might not “sell” something? So what? Van Gogh NEVER sold anything… but he painted because he was driven to.

So… if it’s what you love… and it brings you joy… then I don’t see how it could be a waste of time.

You may never become Tom Kapinos or Greg Daniels, but so what? At the VERY least, you’ll become a better writer, a better storyteller, and gain a deeper appreciation for art… and you’ll have a blast doing it. How is that a waste of time?

(Now, if you DON'T have a blast doing it... if you hate writing or only want to make a sale... then you have to ask yourself some different questions. But since you took the time to write me, I'm assuming your fueled by a bottomless tank of passion, stories, and something exciting to say about the world!)

Having said that, I understand the desire to sell something, to see your work come to fruition… especially in the world of screenwriting, where scripts aren’t finished products, they’re blueprints for something else—a finished movie or TV show. And while I maintain that it’s nearly impossible to succeed outside of L.A., the world IS changing… and the “old rules” are being broken every day. It’s still tough to be an exception to those rules, to be an anomaly, but it happens.

Like I mentioned before, many cities are stepping up their film and TV productions. If you lived in Atlanta, for instance, I’d suggest trying to get in with Turner or Tyler Perry, who’s not only a writer and director, but a full-fledged mogul and producer. No matter where you live, you could also write a low-budget indie film and find investors to finance it (most film producers will even tell you it’s easier to find indie funding OUTSIDE of Hollywood). Or find a way to pitch your show to a local TV station or affiliate. Put up a play. Enter contests. (FYI—I don’t think contests are usually a “traditional” road into Hollywood; they rarely pay off. Then again—they paid off hugely for screenwriter Michael Martin, a Pennsylvania toll booth worker who won a screenwriting contest and recently had his movie, “Brooklyn’s Finest,” premiere at Sundance with Ethan Hawke and Richard Gere.)

The Internet is also opening doors. This doesn’t mean Hollywood is simply offering three-picture deals and overalls to anyone who makes a YouTube video, but people HAVE found success by making top-notch web videos that manage to find an audience. (Barats & Bereta, Secret Girlfriend, Pink, Lonelygirl15, etc.) So get a video camera, some friends, and MAKE SOMETHING. Shoot a sketch or short. If it doesn’t work, you’ll learn what went wrong and make it better the next time. And the next time. And the next time. And the next time.

Anyway, Chuck… I hope this helps. Thanks again for your question… keep reading… and more importantly—KEEP WRITING!

Oh, and lastly-- here are some other posts I've written to similar questions... you may find some helpful info in here...

What is a stay-at-home mom's best TV career path... if she lives outside L.A.?

How Do Recent College Graduates Break In To Hollywood?

Are there any good TV-writing contests?

Is It Possible to Get a Job in L.A. if I Live Out of Town?

If I don't live in L.A., how should I sell my reality idea?

Is It Possible to Balance Single Parenthood and a Writing Career?

Formatting Questions? Try This...

Chad — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 03:22:25 GMT

I've gotten a lot of formatting questions lately, everything from how to do slugs and shot headings to the correct way to show different sides of a phone conversation.

I've emailed some of you back directly (and some of you I'll get to shortly, I promise), but I also wanted to introduce a great formatting resource to those of you with questions.

The second edition of Christopher Riley's The Hollywood Standard: The Complete and Authoritative Guide to Script Format and Style came out last month, and it's the go-to place for questions and quandries on script formatting and style, whether you're writing a movie, a single-camera TV spec, or a sitcom.

It covers everything from margins to fonts to montages to sound effects, and while this isn't a "creative" book-- it's a rulebook to screenplay formatting-- it's invaluable in helping you translate the vision in your head to something articulate and understandable on the page.

Not sure whether to use a FADE or a WIPE? This book will tell you. Need a screenplay program that will work within Microsoft Word? This book has your answer. Unsure how to deal with deletions or revisions in a production script? Search no more.

I literally keep a copy on my desk-- my hand is on it right now-- and I consult it CONSTANTLY.

Anyway, do yourself a favor: pick a copy (I'll include a link below) and use it till it's dog-eared. You won't be sorry.

PAULO'S QUESTION: Do shows ever hop from cable to broadcast?

Chad — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 19:30:32 GMT

Today's question comes from Paulo in Rio, Brazil... which just may win the award for Question Asked From Farthest Away!

Paulo works in film financing and is developing some new models for Brazilian TV production. He asks two questions about the US TV market...

Question #1: "As the cable channels are gaining muscles, have you ever noticed a show that was showed first in cable and after that on a network?"

Question #2: "If a typical show lasts 25 weeks a year in a given day and time, we assume another show run for the rest of the year in the same spot, right?"

First of all, Paulo, thanks so much for sending these in... they're both great questions, and I'm honored and excited to help somebody in Brazil! Here are the answers...

Answer #1: Yes, in a few very rare cases, shows have begun on cable and then moved to a network. Last spring, NBC and CBS both transferred cable shows to their networks. NBC aired reruns of "Monk" and "Psych," both hit shows on USA, NBC-Universal's #1 cable channel, and both shows landed in fourth place in their time slots. "Monk" drew 5.65 million viewers and got a weak 1.5 rating in A18-49... although its A18-49 audience also grew 23% from the first half-hour to the next. ("Psych" performed similarly.) Still, both shows were yanked from NBC, and the experiment wasn't tried again.

(Last summer, NBC also moved its USA reality show, "Nashville Star," over to the network as part of its "All American Summer" campaign, where it performed better than it had on USA, but not strong enough to survive on broadcast television.)

Over at CBS, they transplanted the first season of "Dexter" (re-edited and toned down) from Showtime to the network, where it performed much better than NBC's "Psych" and "Monk" trials. In its network premiere, "Dexter" garnered 8.1 million viewers... more than 8 times the 733,000 it averaged on cable.

Answer #2: It depends. Traditionally, broadcast networks have filled the hiatus between TV seasons (which, for broadcasters, is usually the summer) with reruns, movies, specials, the Olympics... whatever. But that's slowly changing.

First of all, cable networks have started filling the summer with quality scripted programming like "Burn Notice" and "Royal Pains," proving those "dead months" can be valuable. So broadcast nets are now starting to experiment with those timeslots as well. Many are showing big summer reality shows, like "America's Got Talent" or "So You Think You Can Dance." But this year, NBC also aired "Merlin," a British fantasy show it acquired from the BBC. Thus, the rules are changing, and different channels and networks are all playing with ways to use the time between series.

Networks are also toying with non-traditional scheduling and seasons. Some networks have tried breaking shows into two "seasons," a fall season and spring season, like FOX did with last year's "Prison Break" season.

Of course, now matter how a network schedules its air, it won't hesitate to yank a show if it's losing money-- meaning, usually, that the ad dollars it's bringing in are less than its license fee. So networks may attempt to fill the space between seasons with hot new reality series are foreign acquisitions, but if these shows fail to hold their own, financially, they'll replace them with something else: another new show, reruns of a hit like "CSI" or "Grey's Anatomy," or whatever else it can use to fill its air and-- hopefully-- stay afloat.

Anyway, Paulo-- I hope these answers help. Thanks a million for the questions... and drop me a line if you have more!

READER QUESTION: What if drinking means drowning in Hollywood?

Chad — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 15:50:54 GMT

Hey, all—

Wanted to reprint an interesting email I got from Rebecca, one of our loyal friends and readers, in response to the book review I recently posted for Tom Malloy’s, “Bankroll: A New Approach to Financing Feature Films.” I don’t agree with her, but I thought she raised some interesting points that warranted discussion. So here’s her email, and I’ll respond afterwards…

Although the book itself has some extremely useful information, I would not recommend it for one main reason.

The author encourages go-along-to-get-along, pimp-yourself-out, anything-goes-to-ingratiate-yourself, values.

In several sections, he says to do anything to please the guys who may have the money. He applauds himself for getting out of bed in the middle of the night, and leaving his wife, to meet with a potential financier.

And he repeatedly says that if the potential financier or attachment is drinking, you should match him in chug-a-lugs.

What if the guy is really trying to score on a female producer by drinking with her? What if you're an alcoholic? What if you are just opposed to drinking alcoholic beverages? What if you just don’t like the taste of alcohol? What if, for any number of reasons, you just don’t want to drink alcohol.

According to the author, you should do it anyway.

And while you’re drinking, what if the potential financier wants you to snort a little cocaine? Your resistance is already lowered by the alcohol. And the author seems to condone doing what the potential financier does.

I have a close personal friend whose clients were always taking her to Vegas and giving her thousands to gamble with. Now that the economy has tanked, neither her company nor the clients have the business they used to.

No more free trips and chips. But, now she is addicted to gambling. So, she’s up there using her own funds, quickly dwindling.

So, I just think it's irresponsible to encourage people, especially young people who may take his word as gospel and people just entering the business who don’t know any better, to abuse substances just to fit in and close the deal.

That's not called being a good producer. That's called being a whore.

Just my opinion.

Rebecca

Like I said—I don’t agree with Rebecca, but I think she touches on some interesting points and raises questions that confront many people in Hollywood. How important is it to fit in in Hollywood? What if someone asks me to do something I’m uncomfortable with? Where are the lines drawn for acceptable social/business behavior?

So here’s my response…

First of all, I don’t think Malloy is suggesting that alcoholics need to fall off the wagon or women should let themselves get rudely hit on in order to succeed in entertainment. I’ve actually had many drinks with friends or colleagues who don’t drink, and they simply order something else or tell me proudly, “Six years sober,” and I say, “Congratulations—that’s awesome,” and we move on.

Malloy is operating under the assumption that both parties share a mutual understanding that this is a legitimate, above-board business meeting… which MOST Hollywood drinks meetings are.

But what he IS saying is that, for better or worse, Hollywood has a specific culture… and if you want to have as much success—and control over your success—as you can, you must participate as much as possible in that specific culture.

This doesn’t mean you need to chuck your ideals and belief system, but you do need to fit into the culture and the cultural rituals embraced by the industry… and drinks meetings are a big part of the Hollywood culture. If you don’t like going to drinks, find a suitable alternative… go to lunch, dinner, grab coffee. But drinks meetings ARE a pervasive part of Hollywood, from one-on-one drinks at Social or Lola's to industry mixers at Spanish Kitchen or St. Nick's, and eventually, you’re probably gonna have to do some drinks meetings. They’re part of the culture, like it or not.

(Similarly, I run a summer internship program for Vanderbilt University, and last summer we had an intern working at a major production company/mini-studio here in L.A. After two weeks, he left because he was uncomfortable with all the swearing in the workplace. Now, I’m not necessarily condoning foul language, but the truth is—Hollywood offices are lax, and four-letter words are commonplace. If that bothers you, I’d recommend looking into another career, as you’re going to have a VERY tough time surviving here. That doesn’t mean you’re not talented or ambitious or can’t figure out another way in, but it does mean you’re going to have a tough time being comfortable in places where much of Hollywood’s business takes place. People swear here. A lot. It’s how it works. You wanna join the fray, deal with it.)

Malloy’s also giving you Sales Advice 101; to make a sale, you need to connect to your buyer. Make them feel you speak the same language, like the same things, think in the same ways. And if your buyer’s a big drinker—not an alcoholic with a problem, but someone who enjoys a bar after work—then it HELPS you to join him and prove you speak the same language. It’s not necessarily required, but if Joe Buyer has a choice between doing business with you—and you don’t like drinking, talking sports, or whatever other things Joe Buyer likes to do—or another guy who LOVES doing all the things Joe Buyer like to do… who do you think he’s going to choose? The other guy.

Malloy’s NOT saying, “You need to match him drink-for-drink, even if you get wasted and can’t drive home.” And he’s NOT saying, as Rebecca posits, “Even do cocaine if the producer offers.” That would be ludicrous… not to mention illegal. He’s simply saying, “Immerse yourself 100% in the culture and language of this business, then learn how to read your buyer and connect with him. Make him feel like you're kindred spirits.”

So while you obviously have to use your head and avoid situations that feel sketchy and dangerous, I do agree with Malloy—if you want to make it in Hollywood, you DO need to learn to fit in as much as possible.

I’ll be honest—there are areas where I DON’T fit in… and I often encounter moments where I’m outside the conversation and can’t participate. For instance, I hate sports. I have never followed a sport in my life. But men in Hollywood LOVE talking sports, especially the Lakers. And when those conversations come up, I sit woefully on the bench. It’s a point of disconnect between me and whomever I’m talking to… I wish it wasn’t—I’m just not a sports guy.

Anyway, Rebecca—thanks for the great email and the great points it raises, and I’m interested to see what our other readers think. So…

Readers? What do you think on all this?

More on Ageism in Hollywood...

Chad — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 15:59:57 GMT

Some of you may remember, a few weeks back when loyal reader Jon sent in a question and we had an ongoing discussion about ageism.

Well, thanks to Jon for sending in "What Hollywood Is Not Letting You See," a recent piece from Robert Elisberg in The Huffington Post.

It's a great piece... click HERE to check it out!

READER QUESTION: Will There Be A Pitchfest in New York?

Chad — Fri, 29 May 2009 11:29:09 GMT

Hey, folks--

Wanted to respond to Rosetta's Great American Pitchfest question from a couple days ago...

"When will an event like this [or at least similar to it] be available in the New York City region?... I learned about this coming event a little too late to plan to attend and would like to know about such future PitchFests."

Well, Rosetta, I talked to Signe Olynyk, the head of Pitchfest, who says that while they eventually hope to do a NYC Pitchfest, it's not on the radar quite yet. The event started in Canada, where they did two Pitchfests just before the Banff TV Festival and another in Vancouver, in association with the Film and Television Expo of Western Canada, but these were much smaller than the LA incarnation. While a New York version would be great, it would likely be much smaller-- both in professionals and attendance-- and they'd probably have to fly in many execs from California.

Having said, that GOOD NEWS!... Here are two well-respected New York events that DO have pitching opportunities, so check 'em out... they may be just what you're looking for!...

The New York Television Festival - September 21-26, 2009

Pitch Your Hit: Women-in-Film's Two-Day Workshop - June 9 & June 15, 2009

Good luck! And here's last year's pilot winner of the New York TV Festival's People's Choice Award, Teachers...

A Quick Post re: Pitchfest

Chad — Wed, 27 May 2009 19:36:13 GMT

Hey, guys--

I've gotten some emails and questions about Pitchfest, so just wanted to respond real fast...

1) Rosetta-- I'm not sure if/when Pitchfest itself is coming to New York... lemme sniff around a bit. I'll also try to round up some info on some other pitch festivals, or similar events, and get it up here. Bear with me... I'll try to get it up in the next few days.

2) Just to clarify-- Pitchfest is free... AND costs money. Basically, the first day of classes and panels is free... but the second day, when you actually get to pitch, costs money... and there are different levels of payment depending on what you want.

Hope that helps, and Rosetta-- I'll try and get your info up here shortly!

Chad

READER QUESTION/GUEST PERSPECTIVE: How Do I Break Into Children's Animated TV?

Chad — Fri, 22 May 2009 20:47:13 GMT

Hey, folks--

A few weeks ago, I was teaching a TV spec-writing class, and I recently received an email from a student asking if breaking into children's shows worked the same as breaking into primetime... did you still need specs, original material, etc.?

I've never worked in children's programming... so I asked my good friend Melody Fox, who has written and produced for Stuart Little, Teen Titans, Rugrats, and Dragon Tales (as well as adult shows like Flash Gordon, South Beach, and Skin).

Here's what she said...

"I started my career in animation and have a couple dozen credits. And yes, people usually write a spec animated script or two when breaking in. I only wrote one. Then after that, I used my writer's drafts of my produced eps as samples. Animation writers will often have a sitcom spec too, (or a Simpsons or Family Guy, which are animated sitcoms) and the showrunners will read that as well. I had a comedy feature.

"In my experience, getting in is all about contacts. Many animation writers don't have agents. You get work through contacts and referrals, and recommendations. But the good news is, YOU DON'T HAVE TO HAVE AN AGENT, you can make inquiry calls on your own and no one would think it odd or unprofessional. After a while, you get work off your reputation. There are a couple lit agencies that specialize in animated & children's.

"Most animated shows do not have staffs. Disney and Nickelodeon sometimes have small staffs, like three people. Most work is freelance. If you do a freelance ep for a show that has an order of 26 and they like your work, they will come back to you with more assignments. They want writers who can deliver.

"The showrunner who hires the writers in animation is called the Story Editor. The story editor may also be a producer on the show, but not necessarily. Production in animation has to do with the boards that are drawn, etc. and have specialized producers.

"If the student is in L.A. I highly recommend he/she take the UCLA Extension animation writing class. Not only will there great instruction, there are always guest speakers and that's how the writer can start making contacts. I took the class when I already had several credits and it was still useful and one of the guest speakers hired me to do 2 freelance eps. At least 3 other people in the class went on to get assignments, so the peers in the class are also great professional contacts.

"There's a book written by animation veteran Jeffrey Scott called How to Write for Animation. it's on Amazon and also at Bookstar on Ventura Blvd. (in Los Angeles). I haven't read it myself, but he has a huge number of animation credits.

"Also, [most of] this info only applies to children's TV animation. Feature animation is a whole different ball game, and more artist-driven. Also, [this info] does not apply to animated sitcoms (Simpsons, Family Guy, American Dad, etc.) Those are sitcoms that just happen to be animated. They are WGA and have writing staffs and writers rooms and are staffed like primetime shows.

"One more thing... I hope I didn't make it sound EASY to get into. It's professional TV writing and it's very competitive. It's enormously fun, so of course it's going to be competitive.

"Here's the downside... it does not pay anything close to what live-action union shows pay. There's no residuals. It's either non-union or covered by the animators union called The Screen Cartoonists Guild -- if it's a guild show then you CAN earn medical insurance."

SHARLA'S QUESTION: Are web scripts useful writing samples?

Chad — Sun, 03 May 2009 01:16:49 GMT

Hey, folks—

Today’s reader question comes from Sharla. First of all, I have to say—Sharla, MAJOR THANKS for your super-nice comments on Small Screen, Big Picture! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it… and I’m glad you found it helpful!

As for your question… here it is:

“I’ve been hearing everywhere that original work is now basically an essential part of any aspiring writer’s repertoire. As I start to work on my next project, I’m wondering, would a season of a web series be a valuable writing sample to have? I’m very interested in scripted web shows, and I had an idea for a series – I think the story would probably take ten to fifteen 4 minute episodes to tell. I don’t (yet) have the resources or knowledge to produce the show myself, but I’m wondering if this collection of short scripts could serve as a good sample of original work. Of course, I’d like to work my way up to where I could actually make the series and get it out on the internet, but for now, I’m wondering how this material might work solely as a writing sample.”

This is a really interesting question, but I think the answer is: while an original TV sample (i.e. an original pilot) or a screenplay is usually optimal, YEAH—original web scripts could work… ESPECIALLY IN COMEDY.

Most shortform Internet comedy is basically some kind of sketch, and those kinds of pieces are very usable in television… not only for genuine sketch shows, but for late-night stuff like Conan, The Tonight Show, Jimmy Kimmel, etc. They can also be helpful to get jobs writing for “alternative comedy” projects, which may include things like The Soup and Best Week Ever, or even stuff like South Park and Adult Swim.

If you idea is more dramatic, then it may be tougher… drama doesn’t tend to be as successful online, and I’m not sure how shortform drama would read on the page. Having said that… I’ve seen people use essays, short stories, plays, even lists of jokes as original material. If it’s strong writing, it can be used.

What’s most important is that a reader can look at your material and get a sense of who you are as a writer… your unique voice and vision, what you’ll bring to a TV writers room. Often, the best way to do that is with something intended for the same medium: television. But if you have a powerful short story, or a very moving play, or a brilliantly written web series… use it!!

I hope that helps, Sharla—please don’t hesitate to email if you have more questions!

GINA'S QUESTION: Why don't playwrights and novelists get rewritten?

Chad — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 14:45:19 GMT

Today's reader question comes from Gina, who writes:

"I noticed that screenplays are always rewritten by many different writers but that would never happen to a playwright or novelist. Why the double standard? But, then again, that is how screenwriter's will make their money on rewriting someone else's screenplay."

Well, Gina, screenplays often get rewritten by other people because-- unlike in the world of theater or publication-- when a screenwriter sells a script to a studio, he no longer retains ownership of it; the studio does.

In other words, if you sell a novel to Random House tomorrow, you're really selling them just the publication rights (and probably only for a limited time). But you still own your novel, its characters, the movie rights, the merchandising rights, etc. (probably).

Same thing if you get a play produced at a regional theater, or even on Broadway. The play still belongs to you... so you could go sell the film rights or publication rights elsewhere... the producer is simply entitled to the stage rights.

Not so with movies or television.

In movies or television, the studio actually OWNS the script and almost everything that comes with it: merchandising rights, stage rights, etc. This also means they can change it, re-title it, throw out half the characters, completely change the subplots, whatever. They can also then hire ANYONE they want to come in and rewrite it... including you. Which means if you sell your screenplay to Warner Brothers today, you are now-- even though you're the original author-- just a "work for hire," like every other scrambling screenwriter out there. (However, the Writers Guild DOES mandate that when you sell a screenplay, you-- the original screenwriter-- must get first crack at the rewrite. But after that first rewrite, the movie studio can fire you, team you with someone else, keep you aboard... whatever they want. It's their script.)

Now, just to complicate things, writers DO sometimes negotiate something called "separated rights," which means they occasionally get to hold on to things like stage rights, publication rights, etc. But how many separated rights you get depends on the stature and clout of you, the writer, as well as the quality of the agent or manager doing your deal.

Separated rights can get complicated, but here are links to a couple pages with good explanations...

• The Artful Writer (a terrific screenwriting blog written by screenwriters Craig Mazin and Ted Elliot, whose combined credits include Shrek, Scary Movie, and Pirates of the Caribbean) - these guys do a good job of explaining separated rights simply and succinctly

• The Writers Guild of America - Also good, but a much more in-depth, technical explanation

And for LOTS more information, check out The Writer Got Screwed (but didn't have to), by lawyer Brooke A. Wharton. The book is about 12 years old, but it still offers tons of great information on the legalities of screenwriting and Hollywood contracts.

I hope that helps, Gina! Thank you so much for the question, and please keep reading! We've got some great stuff coming up... many more reader questions, contests, book reviews, you name it!

Talk to you soon...

Chad

Older Writers - Part II

Chad — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 15:27:54 GMT

Hey, folks--

Sorry I've been awol for a few days... I was actually out of town with very little Internet access, and I just got back late last night-- so I haven't been able to post for a while!

Second of all, thanks for the posts and emails re: last week's ageism question from Jon in Iowa.

First-- kudos to Lisa, who is moving to L.A. to be a TV writer after discovering "that the main thing holding me back is me and not my age." Congratulations, Lisa-- I'm so excited for you, and please keep in touch and let me know how it goes! I'll probably need you to hire me someday!

And then Jon wrote in with a follow-up question...

"Do you think your comments apply equally to feature film screenwriting, as
opposed to TV writing? As you pointed out, a TV writer will be looked at with the thought, 'Can this writer function on our writing staff on a day to day, season to season basis?', versus a one time feature film writer, where the script should speak for itself, it's either good or it isn't, whether written by a 24 or 64 year old. There is no continuing relationship with the film writer, like there would be in TV. Do older writers face slightly fewer obstacles writing a feature film as opposed to trying to write for TV?"

Well, Jon-- I think it often can be "easier" for a first-timer to sell a project in film than it is in TV (and "easier" does not mean "easy") because of exactly what you say: selling a project in film doesn't require a long-lasting relationship with the writer.

Having said that, 2 (and a half) things:

1) There are many "older" screenwriters working in Hollywood today. Playwright David Hare, who wrote "The Reader," is about to turn 62. Thomas McCarthy, who wrote the Oscar-nominated "The Visitor," is 43. Susannah Grant ("The Soloist") is 46. (Although for the record, I don't think 40's is that old in Hollywood anymore.)

1.5) A caveat just to torpedo my own thesis: last summer, ICM settled a lawsuit from a bunch of over-40 writers who sued ICM for age discrimination. Click HERE to read.

2) It's still incredibly hard for a first-timer to sell something, and I think the obstacles that face older newcomers are the same obstacles facing younger newcomers. Namely: it still takes an infinite number of man-hours to write a sellable script... and it still takes contacts and relationships.

A little over a year ago, Hollywood was abuzz with the story of Michael Martin, a 27-year-old toll-booth-worker who wrote a spec feature called "Brooklyn's Finest"... and sold it. People loved-- and were shocked and amazed-- by this underdog story... which I think is relevant here because MICHAEL WAS ONLY 27. In other words-- it's shocking to Hollywood when ANY "noboby" sells something... even if he's only 27, which is certainly not old by Hollywood screenwriting standards.

Now, a couple other interesting (and often overlooked) things about the Michael Martin story...

A) Michael wasn't exactly a first-time screenwriter. He'd studied film in college, so he had some knowledge, and maybe even some contacts.

B) Michael submitted "Brooklyn's Finest" to a contest... and contests are open to anyone, regardless of age. He didn't win... and contests don't always (even rarely) result in scripts making their way to producers, but his managed to get to someone. If the script is as good as "Brooklyn's Finest," the same thing could happen to anyone, anywhere, of any age.

C) "Brooklyn's Finest" didn't sell immediately. It actually landed Michael a job... writing "New Jack City 2." I think this is important, because many screenwriters NEVER sell anything-- but make a very nice living getting hired onto projects and doing rewrites. But in order to do that... you must LIVE IN LOS ANGELES (or maybe New York, like Michael) and have the time and flexibility to take meetings, meet the appropriate contacts, nurture the appropriate relationships, etc. And like we discussed before, "older" people often don't have that flexibility... not because they're "older," but because they often have lives and lifestyles-- full-time jobs, families, obligations-- that don't allow them to commit to the 24/7 lifestyle of being a budding screenwriter. (Of course, Michael Martin blows that whole theory to hell, but Hollywood is an industry of exceptions... and he is CERTAINLY an exception. So the next Michael Martin we read about could be a 59-year-old plumber in Dallas!)

So what's all this mean? Selling ANYTHING in Hollywood, especially for a newbie, is hard... near impossible... whether you're a 27-year-old in NY or a 64-year-old in IA. Is it harder for someone older? Yeah, probably. Does that mean there's ageism? Not necessarily.

But as writers, I think the question we should be asking ourselves-- no matter how old we are-- is NOT "Why can't I sell something?" It's "How can my work be better?" And once it's better: "How can it be even BETTER?" And once it's even BETTER: "My work's not good enough... how can I make it still BETTER?!"

The truth is: THOSE are the questions that will make your script good enough to sell... no matter your birth date.

Also, for a great article on ageism, check out "How Old is Too Old To Be a Screenwriter?" by D.B. Gilles, author of "The Screenwriter Within: How to Turn the Movie in Your Head into a Salable Screenplay" and "The Portable Film School."

JON'S QUESTION: Can older writers get into Hollywood writing programs?

Chad — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 06:40:04 GMT

Today’s reader question comes from Jon, who lives in Iowa and writes in response to Monday's post about the network and studio writing programs (NBC’s Writers on the Verge, the Disney Fellowship, the FOX Diversity Program, etc.). Jon writes…

“Why there isn't such a program for we victims of age discrimination? I'm being facetious, but I suspect that even with a good script or writing samples, someone in their 50’s, like me, would have a hard time getting a meeting. Do the diversity programs look for young talent, or just new talent? It should be the latter but I suspect its the former.”

Well, Jon, age discrimination is always a hot topic in Hollywood discussions, so I’m glad you asked.

First of all, there are many “older” writers in Hollywood—especially in television, where shows’ head writers and producers have spent decades working their way up the ladder. David Chase, who created “The Sopranos,” is 63 years old. Writer/director Nancy Meyers is 59. Carlton Cuse, the showrunner of “Lost,” is 50. Howard Gordon, who runs “24,” is 48. Linwood Boomer, who created “Malcolm in the Middle” and this year’s CBS pilot, “The Karenskys,” is 54.

Secondly, a lot of studio diversity programs DO consider age a part of “diversity,” at least in theory. I was in the Warner Brothers Drama Workshop a few years ago, and they made a conscious effort to find “older” writers… there was a woman in my program who was from northern California and had two college-age children (she commuted to Los Angeles once a week for our classes). So while I can’t speak to every studio’s program, I think many of them DO try to seek out talented older writers.

Having said this, it doesn’t always happen… but that’s not necessarily because of a malicious “age discrimination” conspiracy. I think because Hollywood is youth-obsessed—especially when it comes to actors, actresses, models, etc.—we like to apply this to other areas, too, but personally… when it comes to writers… I don’t think there’s a ton of age discrimination.

Now, I’m not saying that makes it easy for “older” writers to suddenly break in and get writing jobs, but I am saying this…

I don’t think a dearth of older writers is necessarily due to “age discrimination.” I think it’s more due to a couple other factors. Specifically…

1) Breaking into TV-writing or screenwriting is a full-time job. More than full-time. As I often point out on this site, breaking into screenwriting takes MUCH more than mere talent… it often means spending years working in the trenches of Hollywood, learning the business and—most importantly—building up a solid Rolodex of contacts and relationships. Most people who have already spent many years building another career (regardless of their actual age) are very hesitant to do this.

I frequently have “older” people come to my classes and seminars asking how to break into Hollywood… and when I say the BEST way of breaking in is to get a PA gig, an internship, or some kind of assistant job… starting at the bottom and working their way up… they scoff, telling me this is unrealistic for someone their age or of their professional stature. Well, unfortunately, it’s HOW IT WORKS… whether you’re 22, 42, or 62.

I suspect, if I were to suddenly switch careers and try my hand at being a contractor, or a lawyer, or a plumber, or a politician, I’d have to start at the bottom… learning the ropes and working my way up. Hollywood is the same way. Yet somehow, people always think that because Hollywood is about “art” or “creativity,” the rest doesn’t matter; if someone’s creative, talented, and intelligent, they should just be allowed in. But this isn’t true… Hollywood IS a business… and many of the rules, official and unofficial, that apply to other industries apply here as well.

Having said that, if you have the time, energy, and tenacity required to try and break in—and breaking in IS a full-time job—it can be done… no matter how old you are. I have a friend in his 40’s who left a successful banking career to break into TV writing. He had to start at the bottom, working as a PA for less than $500 a week, but he worked his way up the ladder. Nine years later, he’s now writing on staffs and selling pilots. It was a long road, but he was willing to do it.

2) Sometimes Hollywood employers ARE reticent to hire “older” people into entry-level jobs… because they’re afraid older people will quickly get bored and move on.

And there’s truth in this… as there is in every industry.

I have another close friend who works in the financial industry, and she’s spent the last several months job-hunting. Although she needs a job, she’s frequently told she’s overqualified; places don’t want to hire her because they assume she’ll get bored or frustrated and leave. She hates hearing this… especially because she WANTS the jobs she is applying for… but I think this is the way the business world works, from Wall Street to Hollywood Blvd. She may be as passionate and hungry as a 60-year-old writer trying to break into screenwriting, but the thought that someone is over-qualified and could leave is daunting to employers.

3) There’s also, for better or worse, the difference between being a good writer… and being a good writer “for your age.” In other words—the expectations of a 25-year-old writer are different than that of a 50-year-old writer… people expect the 50-year-old writer to be better, more seasoned… which I think is fair.

About ten years ago, Hollywood was all abuzz when Riley Weston, a 19-year-old prodigy, was hired to write on “Felicity”… and then fired when the producers discovered she was actually 32. Many people cried “age discrimination.” But I knew one of the execs who covered the show, and she had an interesting honest take…

“Riley was good,” she once told me, “for a 19-year-old. Her talent was very raw, a great find in a 19-year-old… but for a 32-year-old, she wasn’t that impressive. You expect a 19-year-old to be a little green… but a 32-year-old should be more ‘refined.’ They should be more ‘cooked.’ Riley wasn’t.”

There’s truth in this. If you’ve been writing for 50 years, or even 32, you SHOULD be more seasoned. You should have honed your craft, found your voice, learned how to mine and tell your own personal stories. If a 50-year-old—or even a 32-year-old—is displaying the same level of skill as someone almost half their age… whether they're a writer or an architect... yeah, I’m gonna hire the younger person… because they have more time ahead of them to grow and be molded.

Of course, by "skill," I don't just mean sheer talent. I mean the whole package: talent, social skills, business acumen, etc. Hiring someone is an investment... and hopefully a long-term investment. That's not saying older people are gonna kick the bucket sooner, or even retire, but younger people have-- strictly numerically speaking-- more time in which to invest. And yeah-- there's a learning curve. So all things being equal-- talent, acumen, interpersonal skills-- I'm probably gonna go with the person who can give me the most time.

Along those same lines, younger people tend to be able to dedicate more time to a job, whatever that job is. They don't have the demands of marriages, families, hobbies, etc. And-- especially in television-- writers can often work 16-hour days. I want someone who can easily work those hours. Maybe it's unfair to think an older person has more responsibilities than a younger person, but I think it's an assumption based in truth. (Even as I write this, I feel like I'm maybe reinforcing age-ism and prejudice, but realistically-- MOST older people DO have families, marriages, etc... there are always exceptions, but let's be honest-- as we grow older, our lives grow. It's a simple fact. When we're younger, we're less fettered.)

4) Lastly, I think aspirants of ALL AGES underestimate exactly how many amazing writers are trying to break into Hollywood... which means the bar is set INCREDIBLY high, no matter how old you are. There are plenty of bad writers, to be sure, but Hollywood is full of thousands upon thousands of extremely talented storytellers—both working and not working.

I think people often look at bad TV shows or bad movies and say, “I could write something better.” Or, “These writers are terrible.” The truth is—many of these bad TV shows and movies come from highly talented writers and beautifully written scripts… but there are a million factors that can transform a wonderful script into a horrible product: bad acting, low budgets, personality clashes, misinformed rewrites, time crunches, bad directing… you name it.

Again, this isn’t to say there aren’t bad scripts, it’s just to say that the bar is set VERY HIGH for writers in Hollywood… and you can’t underestimate that, no matter how old you may be. BUT—in the context of age-ism—it’s very easy to look at an “older” writer who doesn’t seem to be getting her break and say, “She’s so talented… but Hollywood won’t hire a 55-year-old writer.” Yet the truth is: what’s keeping her out is probably the exact same thing keeping out all the 25-year-olds… she’s talented, but she’s not talented ENOUGH.

So all of this is to say…

I am SURE there’s subtle age-ism in Hollywood... just as the whole world is full of subtle racism, reverse racism, sexism, and every other ism.

But I also think there’s an infinite number of other things keeping writers of ALL ages out of Hollywood… yet when that writer is older, especially if they’re older and somewhat talented, we like to scream “age discrimination.”

Sometimes it is. Most of the time it isn’t.

So, old fogies, I'll tell you what I tell all them young whippersnappers... if you want it, and you have the time, energy, and commitment to go after it-- you'll get it. It won't be easy, but hey-- it ain't easy for anyone!

Now… on a totally unrelated note… a music recommendation: go buy the new Great Northern album, “Remind Me Where the Light Is,” which just came out Tuesday… it’s AMAZING!

READER QUESTION: E. Daniels and Peggy's Questions - Good TV-Writing Resources

Chad — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 06:30:05 GMT

Today’s reader question—which is long overdue—comes from E. Daniels. In fact, today’s reader question is DOUBLY long overdue, because I recently found a handful of emails you guys sent over the past year that, somehow, I never answered.

So first of all: I apologize to everyone who emailed me and never got an answer. I try to answer every email I get… but occasionally some fall through the cracks. I also try to answer most emails in a timely manner… but again, some fall through the cracks. Sometimes they fall through the cracks because I just get so many emails I fall behind. I also try to space out similar posts and answers (i.e., I don’t like to post two book reviews or movie reviews back-to-back), so questions occasionally get pushed around so much they never get posted. And sometimes, honestly, I just get overwhelmed and forget.

But I try not to… so I apologize for all times previously, and in the future, when your emails get delayed or forgotten or disappeared. It’s not intentional, I promise… and I’m always trying to be better!

So today’s question comes from E. Daniels… and from Peggy, who emailed me last year… and I’m tying their questions together.

E. Daniels’ asks:

“Do you have any book recommendations for people writing their first (non-procedural drama) pilot? It seems like writing a TV pilot is completely different from writing a spec of an existing show, a feature, etc. And yet, those other formats have books dedicated to them, and the most I can find on pilot writing is a couple of chapters squeezed in between sections on breaking in and working on staff. I'm looking more for a book on writing, specifically. Any ideas?”

And Peggy asks:

“I love Law & Order: SVU, and I am working on a script. Any suggestions for me?”

Now, to be fair, these are fairly different questions… writing a pilot is a VERY different process from writing an episodic spec script. However, both are also incredibly complex processes about which entire books have been written… which is basically to say, Peggy, that rather than just give you some random “suggestions,” I’d like to steer you toward some helpful resources and broad techniques… which will also help E. Daniels.

So, E. Daniels…

Here are some TV-writing books that I find helpful and interesting (or have had recommended to me) that deal with the pilot-writing process…

• Writing the TV Drama Series: How to Succeed as a Professional Writer in TV, by Pamela Douglas
• The TV Writer's Workbook: A Creative Approach To Television Scripts , by Ellen Sandler
• Write to TV: Out of Your Head and onto the Screen, by Martie Cook
• Small Screen, Big Picture, by yours truly (I promise—I’m not just throwing it in here to promote my own book. The truth is, this book isn’t much about the actual writing process… it talks about the business/practical side of television—and how that affects the creative side of developing pilots. In other words, this book may not tell you how to write a pilot, but it may help you understand some of what networks and studios—as businesses—are looking for in pilots they buy and acquire. And as such, it'll hopefully help you understand what to do, not do, etc.-- basically, how to design a pilot that is-- in theory-- sellable.)

But I think the best thing to study when writing a pilot… IS OTHER PILOTS. (And likewise, Peggy, the best things to study when writing a spec are episodes of the show you’re writing. Which I’m sure you already know, but I think the key is actually HOW you study them…)

A cool piece of advice:

Just as you can set your Tivo to search for shows or movies with your favorite actors and directors, you can also set your Tivo to search for the word “pilot,” and it’ll record any pilots that come on TV… not just pilots of new shows, but RERUN pilots as well. So it’ll often capture everything from brand new pilots to pilots for shows like E.R. and I LOVE LUCY.

Now, like I said, the key is HOW you study your pilots or episodes. I have a very specific process I like to use…

STEP #1) I watch each episode with the timecode on, writing down every beat, or new piece of narrative information, as it happens. (Or better yet, get the scripts and analyze the beats on each page.) In other words, every time something happens that pushes the story forward, I write it down, with the exact timecode when it happens. My pen almost never stops moving. I often find there’s a relevant new piece of information almost every 30 seconds.

So—in very broad strokes—a section of “beats” might look like this (I’m making these beats up):

14:27 – Chandler brings home Sabrina, a girl he wants to date
14:50 – Chandler introduces Sabrina to Joey, Joey acts weird around her
15: 21 – Chandler goes into the bathroom
15:35 – Joey asks Sabrina what she’s doing here, Sabrina tells him to leave
15:52 – Learn Joey and Sabrina hooked up two days ago
16:19 – Chandler returns, ready to take Sabrina to the movies
17:00 – Chandler invites Joey to join them at the movies
17:12 – Joey says no
17:30 – Chandler begs Joey to come, explaining that if his best friend doesn’t like his girlfriend, he can’t date her

You get it.

STEP #2) I identify how each beat functions in the show. For instance (I change the character’s name to “A-Character” to help distance myself from the actual characters)…

14:27 – Chandler brings home Sabrina, a girl he wants to date – LEARN A-CHARACTER’S WANT
14:50 – Chandler introduces Sabrina to Joey, Joey acts weird around her – A-CHARACTER INTRODUCES HIS “WANT/PRIZE” W/ THE B-CHARACTER, MOST IMPORTANT IN HIS LIFE – INTRODUCE MAIN CONFLICT
15: 21 – Chandler goes into the bathroom – A-CHARACTER LEAVES HIS WANT/PRIZE WITH IMPORTANT PERSON
15:35 – Joey asks Sabrina what she’s doing here, Sabrina tells him to leave – ILLUMINATE CONFLICT BETWEEN B-CHAR & WANT/PRIZE
15:52 – Learn Joey and Sabrina hooked up two days ago – HISTORY/EXPOSITION OF B-CHAR AND WANT/PRIZE
16:19 – Chandler returns, ready to take Sabrina to the movies – A-CHAR TAKES ACTION TO OBTAIN WANT
17:00 – Chandler invites Joey to join them at the movies – A-CHAR UNKNOWINGLY STOKES CONFLICT
17:12 – Joey says no – OBSTACLE TO A-CHAR’S ACTION
17:30 – Chandler begs Joey to come, explaining that if his best friend doesn’t like his girlfriend, he can’t date her – RAISE STAKES FOR A-CHAR

STEP #3) I remove the specific beats of the show, leaving me with just the “beat definitions.” Like this…

14:27 – LEARN A-CHARACTER’S WANT
14:50 – A-CHARACTER INTRODUCES HIS “WANT/PRIZE” W/ THE B-CHARACTER, MOST IMPORTANT IN HIS LIFE – INTRODUCE MAIN CONFLICT
15: 21 – A-CHARACTER LEAVES HIS WANT/PRIZE WITH IMPORTANT PERSON
15:35 – ILLUMINATE CONFLICT BETWEEN B-CHAR & WANT/PRIZE
15:52 – HISTORY/EXPOSITION OF B-CHAR AND WANT/PRIZE
16:19 – A-CHAR TAKES ACTION TO OBTAIN WANT
17:00 – A-CHAR UNKNOWINGLY STOKES CONFLICT
17:12 – OBSTACLE TO A-CHAR’S ACTION
17:30 – RAISE STAKES FOR A-CHAR

You now have a step-by-step outline, a map, to structuring a work-able story in the style/tone of a show similar to yours… so you can simply lay your own story beats right on top of the structure. Like this…

14:27 – LEARN A-CHARACTER’S WANT – Jason wants to convince Mr. Stony to buy his business proposal
14:50 – A-CHARACTER INTRODUCES HIS “WANT/PRIZE” W/ THE B-CHARACTER, MOST IMPORTANT IN HIS LIFE – INTRODUCE MAIN CONFLICT – Jason introduces Mr. Stony to his business partner, Tommy
15: 21 – A-CHARACTER LEAVES HIS WANT/PRIZE WITH IMPORTANT PERSON – Jason gets called away to take a phone call
15:35 – ILLUMINATE CONFLICT BETWEEN B-CHAR & WANT/PRIZE – Tommy and Mr. Stony begin discussing sports
15:52 – HISTORY/EXPOSITION OF B-CHAR AND WANT/PRIZE – Mr. Stony is a die-hard Red Sox fan… and Tommy is a die-hard Yankees fan
16:19 – A-CHAR TAKES ACTION TO OBTAIN WANT – Jason returns, ready to discuss his proposal
17:00 – A-CHAR UNKNOWINGLY STOKES CONFLICT – Jason asks Tommy to stick around for the discussion
17:12 – OBSTACLE TO A-CHAR’S ACTION – Mr. Stony tries to leave to avoid being in the room with Tommy
17:30 – RAISE STAKES FOR A-CHAR – Mr. Stony says he’ll call Jason later to discuss the proposal, but he must make a decision by tonight (ticking clock)

Now— I am NOT saying this new story is a GOOD story. (I literally just scribbled down these beats over 45 seconds as an example.) But the point is… once you have a workable template, it becomes VERY easy to lay down beats and structure your story.

Of course, like with any map, you are allowed to deviate from the path to explore other routes. If you have a great brainstorm or a flash of genius—by all means: follow it. The map is simply meant to illuminate how other successful stories have worked; it’s giving you a blueprint for the house—your job is to paint the walls, buy furniture, hang art, etc.

So E. Daniels—why this isn’t exactly the question you asked, I hope those book suggestions help, but I also think the best research is to really deconstruct pilot episodes of shows that work similarly (narratively and thematically) to yours.

And Peggy—my best advice for your Law & Order: SVU spec is to analyze as many episodes as you possibly can. You’ll begin to notice patterns in how they reveal information, build acts, etc. And this will be more helpful to your spec than any book or tidbits of advice.

Anyway, I hope this helps… and sorry it took so long to get to your questions! And for the rest of you out there… please keep writing! I have some questions in the cue, which I promise to get to ASAP, and we have lots more great things coming up!

Talk to you all soon…

Chad

DASHA'S QUESTION: What are some good resources for my teenage screenwriter?

Chad — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 02:10:18 GMT

Today’s reader email comes from Dasha, who writes in with a really interesting question:

“My 16 y.o. has some script ideas and I figure there are probably programs out there for teens (scholarships, workshops and etc) so any ideas on a direction to go?? I've looked around online before but so many things came up and I have no clue what's legitimate.”

Well, Dasha—major kudos to your kid for having script ideas and trying to produce them… and double-kudos to you for trying to help him/her! I genuinely applaud you for doing that… especially because I sometimes meet parents who do the exact opposite and try to squelch their kids’ creative impulses! I’ve actually had parents (even parents I know well) ask me to try and talk their kids OUT of being writers, directors, artists, or filmmakers (on the grounds that it’s not “practical”)… which always leaves me angry/sad/bewildered.

First of all… what kind of parent tries to SQUASH their kids’ creative impulses and desires?!

Second of all, the real world often seems to do a good job of beating our creativity and dreams out of us on its own… do we really need our PARENTS to help it along?!

Lastly, I think dreaming of being a screenwriter or a filmmaker IS practical—VERY practical! Now, that doesn’t mean everyone can be the next Steven Spielberg or Shonda Rhimes. But there are hundreds of people throughout L.A. and New York who make good middle-class livings producing TV, movies, music videos, online content, etc. And if even THAT’s not “practical” enough, almost every mid-size city in America has TV stations and some form of production company. They may not be making blockbuster movies like Watchmen or hit TV shows like NCIS, but they make commercials, industrial videos, online films, wedding videos, local TV and news programs, documentaries, you name it. And the people writing, producing, and directing those projects are incredibly talented, trained, intelligent people who use their creative skills to make a living as filmmakers. And even if THAT’S not the path for your son or daughter, there are still thousands of artists who simply make short films or videos as a hobby, a creative outlet, then submit them to festivals and contests, post them on the Internet, or simply show them to their friends and family for sheer enjoyment!

So I say to you, Dasha—on behalf of all the kids who have parents who AREN’T taking the time to help them research and realize their dream—THANK YOU.

Having said all that, here’s a list of books, organizations, and resources that will hopefully help you and your teenager. I’m not sure where you are, and some of these are L.A.-centric, but if you contact them, they can probably steer you toward some helpful local programs…

Screenwriting for Teens: The 100 Principles of Screenwriting Every Budding Writer Must Know, by Christina Hamlett – I haven’t spent a lot of time with this book, but I’ve read bits and pieces… and it always seems fun, accessible, and very helpful. Amazon lists two other books—Digital Filmmaking for Teens, by Pete Shaner and Gerald Everett Jones, and Filmmaking for Teens: Pulling Off Your Shorts, by Troy Lanier—but I’ve never actually read them. They may be terrific… I just don’t know… but Screenwriting for Teens, and probably these other as well, seem like good places to start.

There are also two good screenwriting magazines: Creative Screenwriting and Script. These not only give solid, useful screenwriting tips and instruction, they feature interviews with and features about today’s top TV and film writers. They’re not necessarily for kids, but they may be more helpful than some of the more traditional books (like Syd Field’s Screenplay) because they’ll offer your teenager many different perspectives. And if any particular issue doesn’t pique his/her interest, he’ll get a new one in a month!

Another interesting resource may be the instructional videos from The Young Filmmakers Club, which teaches filmmaking techniques to kids. I have to be honest: I’d never heard of this place until I Googled it for this blog post, but it certainly seems valuable from its website. And for $9.99/DVD, it’s not a huge investment…

Several L.A. organizations also run kids’ screenwriting workshops. Two of the more prominent ones include: the Scriptwriters Network’s High School Fellowship and The Writers Guild Foundation’s High School Screenwriting Workshops. (In fact, even if you’re not in Los Angeles, the Writers Guild Foundation can probably steer you to some great programs or organizations in other places. They’re really nice there—don’t be afraid to give them a call.) Similarly, New York’s School of Cinema & Performing Arts has a summer film camp for teens.

I would also contact your state’s film commission office. Every state has a film commission designed to promote the state for filming purposes, as well as to help oversee and assist any productions. Most of these places are very knowledgeable… and if you explain what you’re kid is looking for, they’ll steer you to some valuable connections. Click HERE for a contact list of state film commissions.

Most states also have local film festivals, and these often have kids’ programs or contests—like the Sidewalk Moving Picture Festivals’s Teen Filmmaking Challenge in Alabama. Again, you can learn about these festivals, programs, and contests through your state’s film commission or with some quick Google searches.

Many colleges and universities now have their own film departments… or, at the very least, some good film production classes. Even if your teenager isn’t ready for college, give them a call… the professors may be happy to let him/her audit the class. Maybe they’d even allow him/her to function as an assistant, helping the class on shoots, in editing, etc. (You may even be able to talk your kid’s high school into giving him internship credit.) If you don’t have a nearby film school—or they won’t let your teenager participate—a good professor should still recommend some local resources. To track down film schools, check out Television, Film, and Digital Media Programs: 556 Outstanding Programs at Top Colleges and Universities Across the Nation, a great book from The Princeton Review and the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences Foundation. You can also contact the University Film & Video Association or the Association of Writers & Writing Programs.

There are several companies that offer excellent online writing classes and workshops. They may not be geared specifically for teenagers, but I’m sure your son or daughter would still learn a lot, especially if he’s talented and serious about being a writer. A couple of the best are mediabistro.com and the Gotham Writers Workshop, but if you sniff around, you’ll undoubtedly find others.

I also wouldn’t be afraid to consult your local yellow pages. If you live near any moderately-sized city, there will be some kind of production company. Like I said above, most cities have places that specialize in industrials, commercials, wedding videos, etc., and your child may be able to get a part-time job or internship… or even just hang out, observe, and learn. And while these may places not seem to have the “Hollywood glamour” your teenager dreams about, he/she will still have an invaluable experience. They’ll have chances to learn how to shoot, edit, work a boom, light, possibly even write. And—perhaps most importantly—they’ll meet other people who share their interests and passions and can help them connect with other people or resources. (Plus, they’ll have access to equipment… which means maybe—possibly—eventually—they’ll be able to use that equipment to shoot something they’ve written: a short, a scene, a skit, whatever. It probably won’t be an Oscar-winning epic, but it’ll be a chance to experiment with actually MAKING something and seeing how words transfer to a screen.)

Of course, if NONE of these opportunities are within reach or pan out, check on Google, Yahoo, even Craig’s List for local writing groups or clubs. You should also check filmmaker-centric sites like Film-maker.com, Moviemaker.com, Indietalk.com, etc. Even if your teenager can’t find actual screenwriting groups, perhaps he/she can just find a straight writers group, where he/she can meet other people who love writing, telling stories, creating characters, etc. Simply talking with these people, he/she will begin to grow as a young writer and artist.

And LASTLY-- you're teenager is ALWAYS welcome to a submit an idea to the Pitch Workshop here at "Script Notes," where readers submit a sentence or short synopsis of their movie or TV idea and get friendly feedback from myself and the other readers. It's helpful, and you can click HERE to check out some of the other submissions.

Anyway, Dasha—I hope this helps… and perhaps some other readers will post their own suggestions. I’m sure there are THOUSANDS of great resources I don’t know about or I’m not thinking of.

In the mean time, thanks again for helping your young writer find his/her voice… please keep reading… and don’t hesitate to write back with more questions or thoughts!

READER QUESTION: How Do I Spec a Serialized Show like "Damages?"

Chad — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 19:01:07 GMT

Today’s reader question comes from Chuck, who asks…

“I love 'Damages', the show. How would you spec a show like Damages when the entire season is one long arc - like one long movie? Same as '24.' Is that possible?”

Well, Chuck, the short (and unfortunate) answer is: I probably wouldn’t spec a “Damages”... because of the very problems you’re stumbling upon. It’s nearly impossible, for a multitude of reasons…

1) Highly serialized shows—like “Damages,” “24,” “Lost,” etc.—have constantly evolving plots and characters, so it’s very tough to write a spec that has any kind of shelf-life. By the time you’ve finished it, the stories and people have often changed so much that your script—even if it’s only a few weeks old—already feels outdated.

2) Because highly serialized shows rarely tell standalone stories (episodes that have their own satisfying beginning, middle, and end), writing a spec of that show is almost counter-productive. After all, your job is to capture the tone and pace of the show… but also to show off your storytelling chops… but it’s tough to write a script that does both when the very nature of the show you’re speccing is antithetical to standalone storytelling. In other words, you might right a terrific standalone spec of “Damages,” but you run the risk of having just written a brilliant story… that doesn’t feel like the show.

3) Most serialized shows aren’t gigantic hits, and—even with those that are—many people aren’t up to speed on exactly where the show is each week. Which means there’s a limited audience of people who can actually read or “get” your spec. And even for genuine “Damages” fans, they may not be up to speed on exactly where the show is… which makes it hard for them to fully understand or appreciate your spec. (I.e., I like “Damages,” but I tend to record a bunch of episodes, then watch them all at once… so as of right now, I’m not really caught up on this season.)

Having said all this, a couple pseudo-caveats…

I always say that if you’re incredibly, desperately passionate about something… you have to write it. So if you have an awesome idea for a “Damages” story chewing its way out of you… WRITE IT! If it’s brilliant, someone will read it and appreciate it. And even if it’s not brilliant… or even if no one ever reads or appreciates it… you’ll have the fun of telling and exorcising that story—which, at the very least, will be a terrific exercise and make you a stronger writer.

Also, people occasionally write what I call “novelty specs,” or specs that less about mimicking a show and more about playing with the form of the program itself. I talked about “novelty specs” a couple weeks ago, when I talked about the spec “Taxi” and “Two of a Kind” scripts I had read, in my response to Erica’s spec-writing question.

There’s always the possibility of writing a “novelty spec” of “Damages.” For instance, you could write a spec that imagines what Ellen’s life would be like if David, her fiance, had never been murdered. Or you could write your own “season three opener,” with a gripping teaser—several months in the future—that then flashes back six months.

I’m not necessarily recommending this route. As I said to Erica, writing a novelty spec is a risky endeavor that can backfire and make you look foolish. But if you’re passionate about a particular show, and can execute an interesting novelty story well, it can make a fun and intriguing sample script.

Hope that helps, Chuck… and if you—or anyone else reading—has other questions, please feel free to email me at WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com… or simply post them in the comments section below!

READER QUESTION: Can a TV Spec Go To New & Different Locations?

Chad — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 00:10:47 GMT

Today’s reader question comes from Erica, who writes…

“When it comes to a TV spec, do you have to try and stay on the normal sets or can you branch out? For instance, on How I Met Your Mother, they tend to go to other places, like restaurants or the mall. But they've had several episodes that stick to just the bar and their apartments. Just curious what the rule of thumb is.”

This is a great question, Erica, and one that many writers often wrestle with.

When writing a TV spec, you obviously want to make sure you have your main characters on their primary sets for at least some (and maybe most) of the story. But I definitely think it’s okay to go to some new places… as long as they seem true to the world and tone of the show.

For example, let’s say you’re writing a “30 Rock” story in which Liz Lemon joins a Big Sister program and “adopts” an underprivileged child. That seems like a likely enough “30 Rock” story, and in the context of that story, it’s very plausible that you might write a scene or two where Liz goes to the little girl’s house or neighborhood.

Similarly, perhaps you’re writing a spec for “The Big Bang Theory” in which Leonard and Sheldon pick up some nerdy girls at a technology convention. You’d probably want some scenes on the floor of the convention… and you may even have a scene or two in a hotel room.

In these cases, it’s totally okay for you to leave the traditional sets of the show… just as most regular episodes often have a few scenes shot on “guest sets” (like when Michael Scott goes to Chili’s or the doctors on "Grey’s Anatomy" visit someone else’s house or hospital).

What you would NOT want to do is tell a story that seems so outlandish it forces you to go to ridiculous places. You wouldn’t write a “House” spec, for instance, that sends Dr. House to the moon, requiring you to have sets of a spaceship or lunar modules. And you probably wouldn’t write an “Ugly Betty” script where a job assignment sends Betty to Antarctica.

So, in short, it’s less about sending your characters to believable locations, and more about telling stories that seem tonally plausible for the show.

Having said all this… sometimes people write “novelty specs,” or spec scripts that are clearly playing with the format of their show—usually in some clever, splashy way. I.e., a few years ago, a writing team wrote a spec script for Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen’s sitcom (I think it was “Two of a Kind”). The spec was titled “Mary Kate Misses First Period,” and it was the raunchy, inappropriate story of how Ashley got her first period… but Mary Kate didn’t—and then it turned out she was pregnant. The story was raw, vulgar, and totally inappropriate… but it also landed the writers a ton of meetings and eventually a writing job.

In those cases, it’s okay to venture beyond the bounds of the show; in fact, you have to. Writing a novelty spec, however, can be risky. If you do an amazing job, it can garner a lot of attention. If you do a poor job, you look silly and foolish.

I remember reading a novelty spec for “Taxi” a few years ago… where the taxi kept picking up characters from different sitcoms—Jerry and Elaine from “Seinfeld,” Will and Grace, maybe some folks from “Cheers” or “Murphy Brown.” I don’t remember the specifics… all I remember is: it wasn’t very funny. The story itself was gimmicky and none the characters' voices seemed right... any everyone who read it knew is. So while it may have been a noble idea, it just made the writer seem desperate and hacky.

Anyway, I hope this helps, Erica… and for the rest of you with questions, please feel free to post them in the comments section or email me at WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com.

In the mean time, keep reading… we have some great stuff coming up: more reader questions, Pitch Workshop submissions, book and movie reviews, and—in a few days—our first bona fide writing contest!!

READER QUESTION: How Much Info About Future Episodes Should I Include with My Spec Pilot?

Chad — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 06:59:43 GMT

Hey, everyone—

Today’s reader question comes from Merik, who writes…

“I have been writing my second feature script and I am half way through. As I got to page 60, I realized that this script would make a great cable (HBO) pilot, and would make a great series. I have read some of your Script Notes, which have clarified that my script does meet the Pilot standard. With that being said, should I complete the first few episodes before giving it to my lawyer to reach out to HBO...? I know where it would go, but… what is expected of me when trying to sell a pilot script that is complete? How much do I need to have thought through, and how many episodes should I write before trying to reach out to HBO and sell the series...?”

Well, first of all, Merik—thanks so much for reading Script Notes, and I’m glad you’ve found it helpful!

As for how much of the future series to pitch or write, the general rule is: NOT MUCH... and JUST ENOUGH.

Allow me to clarify...

Very often, when pitching a TV show, it’s hurtful to the pitch and the project’s sale-ability to have too many of the subsequent episodes set in stone. Network execs—even at writer-friendly HBO—like to have input into where a series is headed and how it develops. This isn’t because they’re controlling or myopic, it’s because they hopefully know or have a sense of what works best (and what doesn’t) for their network.

Also, series rarely play out the way you may plan or anticipate. No matter how brilliant you think your future episodes and stories may be, I can almost guarantee that—when it’s all said and done—they won’t actually happen the way you envision them. This is because new series are so tender, and there are so many unpredictable variables, that it’s always hard to execute your vision just as you see it. The first several episodes of any TV series are often experiments, with writers, actors, and directors trying various things to see what works, and series often take on a life of their own.

I’m not saying this to discourage you from thinking about where your series is headed. You should ABSOLUTELY think about where your story is headed… because at some point, if the network likes your script, they ARE going to want to talk about where you see it going. I’m simply saying you want to be strategic in what you present and how you present it, because networks don’t want to think you’re locked into something that may not ultimately come to fruition. TV shows are fluid and evolving, and networks want (and need) to work with people who can adapt quickly.

So what do you do?...

Some writers include short paragraphs (maybe five to ten) summarizing “sample” story ideas, the kinds of stories the should could tell. If you’d like to include with those stories your vision for the future of the series… go for it!

Other writers let the pilot stand on its own and wait for the network to ask for future story ideas later (which, if they like the pilot script, they always do).

Basically, whenever and however you feel it's most appropriate, the idea is to let networks know where the series COULD go... the kinds of stories you see it telling... without saying "this is where my series WILL or MUST go."

So my advice…?

If you’re basically submitting this pilot cold and unsolicited, even through a lawyer, go ahead and include some extra story ideas. It can’t hurt… and you’re only going to get one shot to impress your readers—so hit them with everything you’ve got. (But again—keep the stories very short… and only send in a page or two total.)

The one thing I would absolutely NOT do is write extra scripts. They will NEVER get read. And—honestly?—they’ll probably make you come across as over-eager and naïve, not knowing how the TV development process works… and that will be a turnoff. (After all, nothing is more set in stone than an actual script.)

(Also, a hint: many people say—especially with sitcoms or character-driven shows—that the first several episodes are simply the pilot revisited. This doesn’t mean you should repeat the pilot exactly, it simply means that as the show struggles to get on its feet, you spend the first few episodes re-examining and reinforcing the core cast’s central relationships and conflicts. This not only helps buttress the show’s main relationships, it helps audiences, producers, writers, and execs understand what kinds of stories this show tells, how it works narratively and tonally.)

Anyway, Merik, I hope this helps… and let me know what happens!

For the rest of you, if you have thoughts, comments, criticisms, or your own questions, please feel free to post them in the comments section below… or email me at WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com.

READER QUESTION: I'm looking for a specific movie script...

Chad — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 19:10:23 GMT

Today's reader question comes from Safeena, who writes:

"Do you by any chance have the full script of Under the Same Moon? I wanted to perform an interpretation for a speech competition, but I can't find it anywhere."

Unfortunately, Safeena, I don't have that particular script (although I loved the movie), but I can refer you to some great websites that have free or for-sale screenplays. I can't guarantee they'll have that particular script, but it's worth a shot. Try one of these...

Simply Scripts
Script City
Internet Movie Script Database
Daily Script
Drew's Script-o-Rama

If none of those comes through, you can always try going through the writer's agent and seeing if he/she will send you a script. Here's how to do that...

• Go to the "find a writer" page of the Writers Guild's website (click HERE)

• Enter the name of the screenwriter (Ligiah Villalobos)

• The WGA database will give you the name of the writer's agent and agency (Ligiah is represented at CAA)

• Call the agent, or write them a letter if you prefer, explaining exactly who you are and what you'd like

Some agents are very cool about helping with stuff like this-- especially if it's for non-profit or educational purposes-- others aren't cool at all. I'm guessing/hoping that if you're using the speech for a school competition, they'd be helpful, but I don't know.

Another thing you can do...

Simply rent or buy the movie and transcribe the speech you want... which, honestly, may be the fastest and easiest way to go.

Hope that helps!

Chad

UPDATE (6:26 p.m., 1/12/09):
Huge thanks to Ligiah Villalobos, screenwriter of Under the Same Moon, who spotted Safeena's question on this morning's blog post and took the time to respond! Thank you so much for reading and helping, Ligiah! Here's Ligiah's response...

Hi, I'm the writer of Under the Same Moon. I saw this request so I thought I would reach out to you. I believe she/he can get a copy of my script through the WGA Library because I did give them a copy of it. Hope that helps.

Ligiah Villalobos
Writer/Executive Producer
"La Misma Luna" (Under the Same Moon)

Safeena-- if you're in Los Angeles, the Writers Guild Library is indeed an INCREDIBLE resource. They have on file almost every script for every produced TV episode or movie in history... modern blockbusters, classics, indie films, you name it. And it's free to use... even to non-WGA members! In fact, even if you're not looking for a script, it's a wonderful place to go sit, read, and feel very literary.

RONKE'S QUESTION: What is a stay-at-home mom's best TV career path... if she lives outside L.A.?

Chad — Sat, 03 Jan 2009 02:19:19 GMT

Hey, folks—

Welcome to 2009, and the first blog post of the new year!

Today’s reader question was emailed from Ronke, an entertainment journalist who would like to transition into writing scripted television. Ronke is originally from the east coast, but moved her family to L.A. several years ago in hopes of breaking into TV. After a year of running into roadblocks (“I circulated a few comedy specs I wrote to a Warner Bros executive I met through a friend, and he always ripped my work to shreds. Poor development, not high enough stakes, things that defied plausibility… I have thick skin, but having scripts I thought were perfect cut down to size kinda hurt after awhile.”), Ronke and her husband headed back east, where they currently live.

Now… a few years later… much of Ronke’s time is spent taking care of her new son, yet she is still “anxious to develop a pilot, based on an idea I have and some other original writing. Not necessarily to produce but to complete and revise as writing samples.” So Ronke finds herself asking today’s question, which is…

“Do you believe I should pursue this route?”

Well, Ronke, I think this is a complicated question, compounded by three important issues…

• Should you write a spec pilot?
• With a young child at home, is writing a spec pilot the best creative route to pursue?
• You don’t live in L.A.

ISSUE #1 – WRITING THE SPEC PILOT
Traditionally, spec pilots have been a dead end… execs and producers used to never read or buy them, and showrunners rarely liked reading them. In the past few years, however—due in large part to the success of Marc Cherry’s Desperate Housewives, which was a spec pilot—things have started turning around… in a big way. David E. Kelley, Aaron Sorkin, and David Crane have all sold spec pilots and gotten them on the way. This fall, a friend of mine just coming off his first staff writing project sold a spec pilot to USA. I know other low-level writers who have sold spec pilots to ABC Family, USA, Sony… all over town. So the market for spec pilots is definitely hotter than it ever has been… and if it doesn’t sell, it certainly can—as you astutely point out—make a great sample. In fact, many showrunners would rather read an original pilot as a sample than a spec of an existing show! So while it hasn’t been a conventional route, writing a spec pilot has suddenly became the “in” thing to do for aspiring and low-level TV writers.

(A caveat: I think it’s important note that while networks and studios have definitely been much more open to accepting, and even buying, spec pilots, only a handful have actually made it to air… and these tend to come only from seasoned writers and producers. So I think it’s wise to write a spec pilot less with the hope of selling it, and more with the hope of using it as a strong calling card… and if it ends up selling—great!)

(Also, if you CLICK HERE, you can read my interview last winter with Spelling executive Jen Grisanti, in which she talks about spec pilots…)

ISSUE #2 – WITH A YOUNG CHILD, IS WRITING A SPEC PILOT THE BEST CREATE ROUTE TO PURSUE?
This, Ronke, is probably a question only you—as the master of your time and energy—can answer. What I will say is this: pursuing a career in TV writing takes a monumental amount of time and energy. It’s not about just writing one spec pilot and throwing it into the sea, hoping someone will bite. It’s about generating a constant stream of new material… not only so your work can remain fresh and current, but because once you’re an actual working TV writer, this is what you’ll be required to do: churn out new scripts, scenes, and stories day after day after day.

In fact, if a producer, exec, or agent happens to read your spec pilot and love it, their first question—no matter how good it is—will be: “What else do you have?” And you should not only be able to hand them another script or two, but you should be able to say, “I’m also working on a spec Criminal Minds,” or “I’m in the middle of rewriting a feature.” SOMETHING.

So do you, as a stay-at-home parent, have the time and energy necessary to make the commitment this career path—both now and down the road—will demand? I have no idea. I’m NOT a parent (yet), and there are many days when TV seems to suck the life out of me. Not only because it’s a massive amount of work… even when you’re not working (maybe ESPECIALLY when you’re not working)… because you’re writing and writing and writing… and for what? No one’s paying you (yet), and you’re churning out work on the prayer that you’ll soon get another job… and while you hope and believe you WILL get another job, it’s still no fun to be in that void.

Having said that, look at someone like J.K. Rowling, a single welfare mom who somehow found the time to scribble the manuscript for Harry Potter while riding the bus or on coffee breaks. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that J.K. Rowling couldn’t have written Harry Potter UNLESS she was a single welfare mom who had just lost her own mother… that somehow the adversity and pressure of her situation fueled her—became her escape, her therapist, her outlet, her creative spring—and that at another time in her life Harry Potter would’ve emerged a very different (possibly inferior) book.

So is a spec pilot the best way to express yourself creatively right now? I don’t know. I think it depends on you, your idea, and how your story wants to be told. Only you can find this answer.

ISSUE #3 – NOT LIVING IN L.A.
This, I think, is actually the bigger challenge for you to overcome. For better or worse, most mainstream American television is produced in only one city… Los Angeles. And if you’re not here, it’s tough—border-line impossible, really—to break in. And for all the talk about how the Internet is creating new opportunities for producers “anywhere” to get noticed… that’s not really happening. Sure, we’ve read a handful of Cinderella stories in the papers, but those are mostly anomalies, and it’s very difficult to plan—or get advice on—how to be an anomaly.

Obviously, you can write from anywhere, but when it comes to TV, being a good writer is only half the battle. Most people in television are hired because they have pre-existing relationships… whether they’re taking a job as a PA, showrunner, mid-level producer, agent, or exec. And without being in LA… literally working and living here… it’s VERY hard to form those connections. It’s also tough to stay in touch with what’s going on in the industry: what’s selling, what’s not, what networks and studios are looking for, etc.

So if I’m being honest, Ronke—and, frankly, I hate being honest—I think pursuing a TV career from outside LA is a massively uphill battle. I don’t want to say it’s a fool’s errand, because people have done it (like Sam Greene, who shot a spec pilot for American Body Shop in Arizona and mailed it cold to Comedy Central… who picked it up and put it on the air), but it’s very, very, very, very tough.

Having said that… if you have a story burning inside you, you MUST put it on paper in whatever form it wants to be told: pilot, novel, poem, play, opera… you’ll do yourself no favors by trying to shoehorn a pilot idea into a novel (or a novel idea into a pilot) because you’re trying to anticipate the best career move. THE BEST CAREER MOVE IS WRITING THE BEST THING YOU POSSIBLY CAN… and if it’s good, it WILL get noticed… no matter where you live.

Having said THIS… if your ultimate goal is to work in TV, and you’re not in L.A., there are some non-TV ways you can create work and attract L.A.’s TV eyes. Write and produce a successful Internet series. Make a short film that goes to festivals. Finance and shoot an independent film. Mount a stage play. Write a serialized online novel. Self-publish a comic book. Do stand-up comedy.

I’m not saying any of these are the right path for your or your project… but I AM saying that unlike many other mediums, television is, unfortunately, L.A.-centric. Yet other mediums aren’t. And if you write something stellar in another medium… something that garners a lot of attention… it’s often easier to attract Hollywood’s TV eyes that way than by writing a spec pilot from outside L.A. and casting it into the ether.

Anyway, Ronke… I can’t make the final decision on whether or not writing a pilot is your best career path. But I hope some of this has helped shed some light on your options.

My final thought, just to sum up, is this: pursuing a TV career from outside L.A. is a Herculean task… yet the best way to go about it is to trust your creative instincts and write the BEST PIECE YOU CAN. If, in your heart of hearts, you know your story is a spec pilot… then you must write a spec pilot. But if it’s a short story… or a graphic novel… or a skit… or a one-woman show… then heed that notion and write whatever the story wants itself to be.

Hope this helps… and when your show’s debuting on TV later this year, I expect a personal invitation to the premiere party!

Chad

READER QUESTION: How Do I Write Fight Scenes?

Chad — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 00:11:22 GMT

Today’s reader question comes from Mel, who posted this in response to my review of Quantum of Solace, the new James Bond movie. Mel writes…

“I… have been thinking about fight scenes. How are they written? How do people make them jump off the page and come to life?”

Well, Mel, at the risk of giving you a “non-answer,” I’m not sure there’s any one way—or any one set of rules or guidelines—to writing successful fight scenes… just as there’s no one way to tell a great story or write a moving poem or choreograph a beautiful waltz. Different writers have different styles, voices, and approaches, and each writer’s unique skill-set infuses the way he or she writes fight scenes.

I would say this, however…

It is essential that a well-written fight scene capture the speed, violence, motion, pacing, and energy of the fight itself. I’ve read scripts where the stage directions of fight scenes are stark and straightforward, like this…

Roger levels his knife at Ned’s throat.

                              ROGER
                  You son of a bitch…

He lunges. Ned blocks. Roger stabs again. Ned ducks… Roger fakes to the left… then grab’s Ned’s arm and hurls him into the icy water.

Others are more descriptive, using the fight’s emotional intensity to bring to life its choreography…

There, looming in the doorway, stands Gilbert… his hulking frame silhouetted in the sickly moonlight.

                             CINDY
                  Where's my baby?...

And as three months of hate and rage gurgle out of her throat, Cindy launches herself forward… a lioness… her gaunt skeleton smashing into Gilbert’s bloated torso. She claws… bites… scratches… every point of contact a searing memory of what this monster did to her daughter.

                             GILBERT
                  Wait... I'll tell you...

He tries to toss her aside, but it’s no use. Gilbert’s fists are liquid… his pleas futile… Cindy is nothing but a seething burst of vengeance.

For someone struggling with writing fight scenes, I’d first suggest studying the scripts of fight scenes you really admire… as well as some recent and seminal action/fighting movies, like the Jason Bourne movies, The Transporter movies, James Bond, The Matrix, etc. Here are some links to movies with great action and fight scenes (courtesy of the Internet Movie Script Database)…

The Bourne Ultimatum, by Tony Gilroy, George Nolfi, and Scott Z. Burns
Highlander, by Gregory Widen
Alien, by Walter Hill and David Giler
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, by Wang Hui Ling, James Schamus, and Tsai Kuo Jung

As for me, here are some hints and tips I like to use when writing my own action and fight scenes…

• AVOID ADVERBS AND ADJECTIVES. You want your fight scene to read as fast and energetically as the actual fight… and adverbs and adjectives are descriptive words that slow down the action. Thus, try to use the most kinetic verbs possible.

Instead of:

Jack runs speedily across the stage, leaping into the air and bringing his elbow down painfully into Lance’s shoulder…

Why not:

Jack races across the stage… lunges… and smashes into Lance’s shoulder…

• USE SENTENCE FRAGMENTS. Full sentences can sometimes seem long and “formal,” rather than reflecting the quick and frantic pace of a fight.

Instead of:

Claude punches, his fist arcing through the air toward Raymond’s face. Raymond ducks and returns the blow. Blood spurts from Claude’s cheek. Claude howls, sending his skull headbutting into Raymond’s already battered nose…

Why not:

Claude punches. Raymond ducks… swings… connects. Blood sprays. Claude howls… reels… and smashes his skull into Raymond’s nose.

• DON’T BE AFRAID OF USING SOUND EFFECTS LIKE A COMIC BOOK. Comic books often plant fun action words like “Bam” and “Smash” and “Crunch” in their frames. While overdoing this can be cheesy, using it sparingly can work to great effect. For instance…

Instead of:

Grace inches through the mine shaft, her eyes searching the darkness for movement. Nothing. Suddenly, the yeti leaps out of a crevice, shrieking as it claws at Grace’s throat…

Why not:

Grace creeps into the shaft. All is still. She inches closer… stops… was that a noise? She waits. Nothing. Takes another step and—

WHAM! The yeti’s claws CRUNCH into Grace’s spine. Fangs tear into her flesh… claws slice at her belly… and as the yeti’s jaws close on Grace’s throat—

THWAP! Her axe finds its mark.

• DON’T FORGET DIALOGUE. There’s rarely much speech in great action scenes, but without dialogue to break up stage directions, even the fastest, most action-packed fights can appear dense and overwhelming on the page. And no matter how brilliant your fight scene may actually be, if it’s not fun and fast to read, it’ll never make it to the screen. So I like to sprinkle in dialogue—even if it’s just grunts and moans—to make the scene easier on the eye. Like this…

Instead of:

Katherine’s sword clatters to the floor. She dives… but not before Conrad’s blade plunges into her leg. She howls in agony… writhes… and kicks. Her boot crunches into Conrad’s gut. He reels… she wrenches his dagger from her thigh… lunges… and drives the knife into his neck. Conrad screams. His fingers claw at Katherine’s face, bloody spittle spraying from his lips. Katherine drives the knife deeper. And slowly… slowly… Conrad crumples onto the cold bricks.

Why not:

Katherine’s sword clatters to the floor. She dives as--

                              KATHERINE
                  Aangh!

Conrad’s dagger plunges into her leg. Katherine whirls and--

BAM! Her boot crunches into Conrad’s gut.

                              KATHERINE
                       (Yanking out the knife)
                  I warned you…

CRUNCH! The blade smashes into Conrad’s neck. Blood sprays from his lips.

                              CONRAD
                  No… please…

                              KATHERINE
                  Sorry, Dad… I can’t hear you…

She twists the knife deeper and… THUD. Conrad’s lifeless body hits the bricks.

I’ll be honest, Mel… fight scenes—while they often seem fast and visceral—are often one of the toughest things to write. They not only have to be incredibly economical in their conveyance of action, but they have to deliver the emotional goods as well. When I’m writing a fight scene or action scene, it usually takes many drafts—nine, ten, sometimes more—before I feel good about it. But I try to keep these hints and tricks in mind… and I’ll often refer back to fight scenes from other writers, scripts, and movies I admire to use as a guide.

I hope this is helpful… good luck… and feel free to post more questions in the comments sections… or email them to WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com.

And now, for your viewing pleasure, here's the awesome Bourne Ultimatum spoof that Matt Damon and Guillermo did last year on Jimmy Kimmel Live!...

Matt Damon & Guillermo on Jimmy Kimmel Live

READER QUESTION: How Will the New "Jay Leno Show" Make Any Money?

Chad — Mon, 15 Dec 2008 07:01:40 GMT

Hey, guys--

Hope you've all had a good weekend! And thank you in advance for all the emails, questions, pitch workshop submissions, etc. I promise you-- I'll get to all of them... but I wanted to answer a quick email from loyal reader Charlie, who asks a question in response to Wednesday's post about NBC moving Jay Leno to primetime. Charlie writes...

"I noticed you spent a good deal of time defending the Leno decision. My question is, based on what I understand about how networks make their money... they
put shows on air at a loss... gambling that they will recoup in syndication. Is the model with Leno that it's produced at a cheap enough margin that it makes its profit from the ad buys? And if not, are they just putting it on the air at a loss? How do they make money?"

Well, first of all, Charlie--NBC's Leno move has been the most hotly debated topic in Hollywood this past week... mostly because no one knows if it'll work. Many people think it will... although others are disappointed that it's removing five weekly hours of potential scripted programming from NBC's schedule.

As for how it'll make money, however... you're exactly right (almost). Most expensive scripted shows are "deficit financed" by the studio that produces them, then licensed to networks for less than it costs to make them. NBC, for instance, doesn't own My Name Is Earl, even though it airs it every Thursday night; that show is owned by 20th Century Fox, the studio that finances and produces it, then "rented" to NBC for less than it costs to make it. (If it costs 20th just under $2 million per episode to make it, NBC probably pays around a million per ep...) NBC then makes its profit by selling advertising during the show (last fall, My Name Is Earl averaged $151,000 per 30-second spot), and 20th makes its profit by re-licensing the show into syndication to local stations and cable networks.

(So a slight tweak to what you'd said in your question: the network itself doesn't put shows on at a loss, the STUDIO sells its shows to a network at a loss. The network-- ideally-- isn't really taking an intentional hit because its shows are-- hopefully-- taking in more ad revenue than the network paid for them. When a show starts taking in LESS ad revenue than the license fees the network paid to the studio, the show is probably going to get canceled.)

Late night shows, however, like The Tonight Show or Jimmy Kimmel Live!, are exponentially cheaper to produce than a primetime scripted show. One hour of a primetime drama may cost its studio more than $3 million (meaning the network licenses it for about $1.8 million)... and sometimes more... but one hour of The Tonight Show costs about $400,000 (which-- just to put that in perspective-- is less than it cost to buy a single 30-second ad spot during last season's Grey's Anatomy). So many late-night talk shows are owned by the network that airs them. (Also, talk shows have very little syndication value-- i.e., they can't usually be rerun-- so there's no point in a studio deficit financing them.)

Of course, The Tonight Show commands lower ad dollars than many primetime scripted shows. One 30-second spot in The Tonight Show costs $50,877... which is significantly lower than the $124,353 NBC currently gets for 30-second spots during its Monday night 10 pm time slot (when Jay moves to primetime next year, he'll be on each weeknight at 10 pm). It's also lower than the $70,239 NBC rakes in for each 30-second spot on Friday nights, one of its lowest-rated evenings.

But remember... a single episode of The Tonight Show also costs about one sixth what it costs to make a single episode of a 10 pm drama. So NBC doesn't need to set its expectations as high in order to make a profit.

In fact, NBC grosses an average $2.3 million in ad revenue during its 10 pm weeknight time slots. So let's say it's shelling out $1.8 million per episode for each of those 10 pm shows... it's making an average profit of $500,000 per episode.

The Tonight Show grosses about $926,000 in ad dollars in its current 11:30 spot each night. But if it costs $400,000 to make, that means its making NBC a nightly profit of $526,000! (This is also much more "reliable" income for NBC, because once a talk show is successful, a network can lock it in for many years, guaranteeing itself that ad revenue. In primetime, however, shows succeed and fail much more frenetically... new shows are constantly popping up, schedules are constantly being rearranged, etc. So the ad revenue of a particular primetime slot is much more tenuous than that of a successful late-night slot.) (In fact, as if to prove how reliable this income is-- and how much lower NBC can afford to set its expectations-- the network has reportedly already contractually committed to four years of Leno's new show, with a two-year option. To put that in perspective, most successful scripted shows rarely get more than a 22-week commitment... and untested new shows usually only get 6 or 13.)

Now, there are definitely more viewers watching TV during primetime than late-night. The question is: will those viewers tune in to the new primetime Jay Leno Show? And more importantly, will the viewers who tune in be NBC's coveted younger demographic? (Right now, the median age of NBC's primetime audience is 46... but the median age of its late-night Leno audience is 56, a demo that's less valuable-- and therefore gets lower ad rates-- to advertisers.)

NBC is betting they'll get the viewers. Critics aren't so sure. Obviously, only time will tell... but even if Leno doesn't get the numbers and ad dollars of a successful scripted show, his inexpensive show is much less of a gamble for the floundering NBC. And he'll probably do better than the failures NBC programmed there this year: My Own Worst Enemy and Lipstick Jungle. (NBC is also losing its successful Thursday night 10 pm show, E.R., which pulled in about $140,000 per 30-second spot last year.)

Hope that answers your question, Charlie... thanks again for reading... and for anyone else who has questions, please feel free to email me at WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com.

READER QUESTION: How Can A Writer Protect A Book Idea?

Chad — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 08:15:03 GMT

Hey, writers--

Today's reader question was emailed from Brian, who writes...

"Chad, I have a fantastic idea for a book and I want to protect my idea from someone else copying it. Whats steps should a person take in order to protect an idea until it comes into print?"

Well, Brian, this is a question many writers ask. To be honest, the "protection" process is a bit different for book-writers and screenwriters. Screenwriters often register their material with the Writers Guild of America, which has an inexpensive registry service (click HERE to go right there).

For books, however, I wanted to ask someone who has a much longer history in the book world than I do... so I sent your question to my trusty friend and editor, Brian Klems, who writes Writers Digest's Questions & Quandries blog and column. He gives a terrific answer... CLICK HERE to check it out!

And for those of you with more writer/film/TV questions, please don't hesitate to email me at WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com... if I don't know the answer myself, I'll find someone who does!

And keep reading... coming soon we have behind-the-scenes looks at more TV shows, an interview with animator Ellen Besen, and more answers to your questions!

READER QUESTION: Is It Possible to Get a Job in L.A. if I Live Out of Town?

Chad — Sat, 22 Nov 2008 20:19:37 GMT

Today’s reader question comes from Wendy, who asks a question in response to Tuesday’s discussion about “chronological goalposts” and moving to Los Angeles to make it as a TV writer. Wendy writes…

“Is there any hope of getting a job before you make the move to LA?”

Great question, Wendy… obviously, no one ever wants to pack up their entire life and move to another city with nothing but the hope of landing a job. It’s risky. It’s daunting. It’s utterly terrifying.

And unfortunately, in the world of Hollywood, it’s usually the only way to do it.

Rarely do Hollywood companies hire people from out of town… they tend to only hire—and only want—people who are already living in Los Angeles. This is for a handful of reasons…

1)   The turnover rate in Hollywood is incredibly high. Not just at lower levels, like assistants and runners, but even at higher levels, where executives frequently last only a year or so in their jobs. (And when an executive or agent is fired, laid off, promoted, or leaves a job, their assistant often goes with them.) So when someone leaves—ESPECIALLY an assistant who takes care of much of a company’s vital day-to-day grunt work (filing, copying, running errands, answering phones, maintaining schedules, etc.)—the company needs to fill their shoes IMMEDIATELY… often as soon as the next morning, and it’s tough to do this with someone who lives out of town.

2)   Bosses often want someone who is familiar with L.A. and knows their way around. This is because much a low-level assistant’s job is running errands, tracking down special requests, making restaurant reservations and recommendations, etc. In other words: they need a base knowledge not available to out-of-towners. And while you may be a fast learner, many bosses have no patience for a learning curve; they want to know that if they tell their P.A. they need a certain kind of paper, or a special food request, that P.A. knows exactly how to find it, get there, and return as quickly as possible.

(This is also why many bosses won’t hire first-time assistants, period. They want an even broader base of knowledge… they want to know that if they say, “Get Steve McPherson on the phone,” or “Call Barry Meyer,” or “Set a lunch with Jeff Jacobs,” the assistant not only knows exactly who that person is, they already have the number memorized.)

3)   Hollywood is an entire industry based on connections or relationships, and people tend to hire people they already know: friends, nieces, friends of friends, etc. And if you’re living outside Los Angeles, it’s nearly impossible to begin forming the contacts you need to build a network strong enough to help you get that first (and second) job.

Having said this, we all know people who LIVE in Los Angeles… and we all probably have friends or relatives working in entertainment… and you should never be afraid to use these connections. If your uncle is a VP at Paramount, you may luck out and be able to land a job before arriving in L.A. (but again—he knows you; you have a pre-existing relationship)… but at the very least, you’ll land in California with a small network of contacts to help you get started.

4)   It’s easy for out-of-towners to flake, and for execs, producers, or agents who are often quasi-helpless without their assistants, it’s risky to hire someone who doesn’t even live in town. You may be incredibly intelligent and perfectly qualified… but the most important qualification—to a nervous exec who needs support—is that you can show up immediately.

Having said all of this, Wendy—there are certain ways to help yourself if you’re not yet living in Los Angeles. Namely: get an entertainment-related job wherever you are. Start working at a TV affiliate station. Find a production company specializing in local commercials or corporate videos. Take a gig at an advertising agency that deals with networks. Many cities these days even have talent agencies that supply actors and models to local commercials, productions, and photo shoots. And while you’ll probably still need to BE in L.A. before getting hired in L.A., any of these jobs will begin giving you real-world industry experience… as well as help you build your Rolodex.

I hope this helps, Wendy… while I wish I could tell you it’s easy to lock down a job before getting out here, it’s just not true. But that doesn’t mean you can’t start your career—or even have a long, prosperous entertainment career—wherever you already are.

READER QUESTION: What are the Chronological "Goalposts" for Becoming a TV Writer?

Chad — Tue, 18 Nov 2008 18:35:49 GMT

Hey, folks—

Today’s reader question comes from E. Daniels, who addresses an issue which, I think, plagues almost every writer in Hollywood, myself included. E Daniels, take it away…

"There are certainly a number of factors involved in getting discovered or 'making it' (fate, talent, luck, hard work, etc.) How long does the average writer take to get staffed? Already that sounds like a question without any one answer.

"But I'm trying to be realistic about my life, and I just thought if I don't see real progress in three years I would have to re-evaluate what I am doing in Los Angeles. But then I realized I don't even know what 'real progress' would look like. I certainly don't expect to be staffed on a show in just three years. And really it seems that two years or twenty, you don't really get closer to getting staffed, you are either staffed or not. Kind of like being pregnant - there is no halfway.

"But then I think, well there is no halfway to being pregnant, but your chances go up by having sex, right? So, metaphorically speaking, what is 'having sex' to a writer? Is it networking and being a great assistant? Is it improving your craft to the point that someone has to take notice? And obviously the question 'when do you give up on a dream?' is loaded and different for each person. (I mean, no one wants to give up on a dream, but you can have other dreams, too - like a steady job and health insurance in a city you like, for instance.)

"Okay, I'll stop with the rambling and boil it down to this: in the interest of making an informed decision (and part of being informed is knowing that it is so wildly different for everyone) what are common goalposts of progress for a writer and how longish might it take to get paid to write for TV?"

Well, first of all, E. Daniels—I think you’re right… the answer is different for everyone. I have friends who got staffed after being an assistant for only a couple years. I also have a friend who spent—literally—NINE YEARS slaving away as a writers assistant and P.A. before finally getting staffed… and this summer—only two years after his first staff job—he sold his first pilot! Then, of course, there’s the story of Caroline Williams, a UCLA grad student who wrote a spec pilot with the sole dream of getting staffed on NBC's The Office… and she not only immediately staffed on The Office, she sold the pilot to ABC, got it made (Miss Guided, which premiered—and was canceled—earlier this year), and just sold ABC another project, Made Over, with a put pilot commitment.

I also have friends who followed the right path and staffed on a TV show… but that show was then canceled, or they were fired, and they never worked again. Some were even high-level writers: producers, co-EP’s, etc. The fact they didn’t work again doesn’t necessarily mean they were bad writers, it just means the road is NEVER easy. Sure, once you get that first staff job (or more accurately, the second), you’re “in,” but you still have to fight and claw to keep working and moving up the ladder. Desperate Housewives creator Marc Cherry, for instance, had had a fairly successful career in TV (writing and producing shows like The Golden Girls and Five Mrs. Buchanans), but had been out of work for over three years when he finally wrote Desperate Housewives.

(Also, for what it’s worth—some of those friends who never staffed again went on to write other things: video games, screenplays, grants, books, magazine articles, etc. And who knows… they may—and probably will—staff some time in the future.)

Anyway, all of this is to say: YOU ARE RIGHT. The path is different for each person.

Having said that, you’re ALSO right—there are certain goalposts that tend to mark the most common paths. Here’s how the ladder often works, with each step usually taking AT LEAST a year… and usually more…

1)   Intern or runner
2)   Production Assistant (PA)
3)   Writers’ PA
4)   Writers Assistant

So, that’s usually about a four-year path… assuming there are no bumps or setbacks along the way… and there are ALWAYS bumps along the way. Shows get cancelled mid-season. Assistants don’t get promoted. Bosses hire friends. Budgets limit who showrunners can hire.

However, I think there are other goalposts to follow as well… and these aren’t necessarily chronological goalposts. But as you move forward in your career, even if you’re not advancing “up” the ladder, you should be…

1)   Writing more (you should be constantly turning out product: new specs, screenplays, and plays… whatever you need to get noticed)

2)   Getting feedback from writer friends and bosses, learning how to incorporate that feedback, and then seeing your work noticeably improve (I know it sounds elementary, but you should be seeing your writing GETTING BETTER)

3)   Reading more (try to read all the pilots produced each year, on both cable and broadcast networks; this is tough, believe me, but reading not only keeps you informed about what networks are producing, it HELPS YOU BECOME A BETTER
WRITER)

4)   Meeting more writers and showrunners (literally, as you advance, you should see your Rolodex of writer and producer friends growing… not just because you’re meeting more high-level writers, but because friends who are low-level/aspiring writers get promoted)

5)   Meeting more execs and agents (and again, the ones you know should be moving up the ladder, expanding your Rolodex of high-level players)

6)   Getting things produced, published, etc. (As you improve as a writer… and expand your list of contacts… you have more opportunities to get things published or produced. Maybe not on TV… but you can stage plays or sketches, publish stories or scripts, write/produce video games and web content, etc. I used to have a teacher who said “Work begets work,” and he’s right: showrunners and execs like hiring people who are busy and productive… and the more aggressive you are about getting your work out into the world, the higher your chances of having it seen by someone.)

So, E. Daniels, I think both sets of “goalposts” are important. I know people who have been writers assistants for YEARS and wonder why they can’t get staffed… even though they never bother writing specs or reading pilots or going to networking functions.

I also know PA’s who spent every free moment reading scripts, writing stories, and begging their bosses to read their work… and they leapt past their competitors to staff earlier than most people.

Your job is to be moving forward on both fronts, accomplishing both sets of goalposts. You may not progress equally on both fronts at all times… and that’s okay. As long as you can feel yourself progressing.

Anyway, I hope that helps… and please know that you are not alone in this boat. In fact, I’m not sure most writers EVER reach a place where they feel they’ve totally “arrived.” If they did, I think they’d stop writing. I think most great writers—and maybe artists in all mediums—are driven not by a need to “succeed,” but by a need to “be heard”… and the day they feel secure in “being heard” is the day they lose their hunger to create.

So not only should you be doing this because you love the hunt, not the kill, but you should prepare yourself for a lifetime of uncertainty, insecurity, and self-doubt. Which sounds dark and depressing, I know… but those aren’t just the qualities that come with the territory of being a writer… they’re what MAKE us writers. We write BECAUSE we’re uncertain, insecure, and doubtful. It’s a vicious circle: we write to make those things go away, but those are also the very things that MAKE US WRITE.

On that happy note, E. Daniels, look at the bright side… you’re asking the same questions—and having the same concerns—as EVERY WRITER IN HOLLYWOOD, from the top of the food chain to the bottom. So while it seems like you’re wondering if you’ll ever arrive, in one of the most important ways… you already have.

READER QUESTION: Is Writing TV Commercials a Viable Way to Get Into TV?

Chad — Sun, 09 Nov 2008 22:06:58 GMT

Hey, writers—

Big thanks to Wendy, who sends in today’s reader question! Wendy writes…

“I have been told a TV commercial is a good way to get some writing credits. Is this so, and how would a person go about getting into commercials? --Wendy?”

Well, Wendy, I think writing TV commercials is a great way to get some writing experience… IF YOU WANT TO BE A COMMERCIAL WRITER.

For the most part, showrunners and executives aren’t combing through ranks of commercial writers searching for the next great TV writer to join the staff of The Mentalist or My Name is Earl or Mad Men or The Colbert Report or Sons of Anarchy. Writing TV commercials is a different craft than writing TV shows, and while execs and producers definitely want fresh voices, they also want fresh voices that can write TV shows.

Personally, I’m of the belief that if you want a certain job, you should laser-focus and go for that job. If you wanted to be a NASCAR driver, you wouldn’t do it by first becoming a mechanic. You would get a car, get on the track, and learn to race. And while you’d also learn all you could about automobile mechanics, you’d dive into the specific training it takes to become what you actually want to be: a real driver.

Sometimes I hear people offer TV writers advice like, “You have a better chance of breaking in if you first become a lawyer, because there are tons of law shows, and showrunners always seem to be looking for lawyers.” While there may be some truth in this, it’s also misleading advice. Showrunners do like to hire lawyers—especially on law shows—but telling someone to become a lawyer first… or any other profession… is sending them down a long, risky, circuitous path.

The truth is: showrunners and execs want talented writers who understand the medium of television and have real-world/life experience to help inform their writing. So yes—experience as a lawyer can be helpful and attractive. But so can experience as a fireman. Or a marriage counselor. Or a spy. Or a plumber. Or a stay-at-home mom. The is key taking the real-world experience you have and being able to translate it into powerful stories and writing. But I certainly would never say that certain professions—whether ad-writers, lawyers, or airline pilots—are funnels to the TV world. If you wanna be a TV writer… go learn how to be a TV writer.

Having said that… showrunners and executives also like hiring writers with produced credits. Produced credits suggest someone else—someone acting as a “filter”—read a writer’s work, liked it, and got it made. They also suggest the writer has a certain level of professionalism, or at least understands some of the processes of translating words from mere thoughts to actual out-there-in-the-world products. Produced credits suggest, in theory, a writer knows how to take notes, collaborate, rewrite to accommodate practical elements (time, money, space), etc. And in the world of television, where time, resource, and budget constraints constantly force writers to change stories, characters, and scenes, these are important skills and experiences to have.

Produced credits could include plays, movies, published novels, articles, short stories… and yes—probably even TV commercials, especially if they were particularly creative and/or well-known. A showrunner hiring for a sentimental melodrama (say, Seventh Heaven) may be very impressed with a writer who has written a successful series of touching Hallmark card commercials. An executive looking for writers for a raunchy new sketch show may be impressed by someone who’s written a bunch of hilarious Bud Light commercials. I’m not saying they actually seek out and scour these places for new writers… and I’m definitely not saying the best way to impress a producer or exec is to go out and write commercials… but I am saying that commercial-writers who have creative, successful commercials under their belt may be attractive to certain showrunners searching for specific and appropriate voices.

There have also been a few rare instances where TV ad campaigns have literally been turned into actual TV shows. The most recent of these was last year’s ABC flop, Cavemen, which was based on a series of Geico ads created by the Martin Agency, an ad agency in Richmond, Virginia. Joe Lawson, the ad copywriter who wrote the original spots, even got to write the script for Cavemen’s pilot episode. Likewise, in 2002, CBS developed a TV series based on “Baby Bob,” a talking baby who had appeared in a series of freeinternet.com commercials.

However… these instances are few and far between (not to mention, they rarely work). I don’t think it’s fair to say that a commercial writer who creates a brilliant ad campaign has any better of a chance of turning it into a TV show than someone who writes a great short film… or a terrific autobiographical memoir… or a wonderful stage musical… or anything else that catches Hollywood's eye.

So to sum up this rambling answer, Wendy… if your goal is to be a TV writer, my advice is to go be a TV writer. Don’t waste time taking circuitous paths as an ad-writer or a janitor or a doctor or a military commander because you think it’ll somehow “backdoor” you into the industry. GO GET A JOB IN TELEVISION. Get as close to the action and the writing process as you can. Become a writers assistant… or a P.A…. or a script supervisor… or a runner. Start wherever you need to start to begin learning the process and making contacts.

BUT… if you’re not in L.A. or you can’t yet get that first job, by all means—keep writing. Write the best pieces you can and get them out there into the world… poems, plays, skits, magazine articles, online shorts… or—if you want to—TV commercials. Whatever best shows off your unique talent and voice.

As for actually getting into writing TV commercials, if you really want to pursue it, I would begin by researching ad agencies in your area, then contacting them about job opportunities. Most probably won't hire you as a bona fide writer right off the bat, but you can begin as a desk assistant, or a production assistant, or even a receptionist. This will allow you to meet the players, learn the process, interact with clients, and understand exactly how TV commercials are conceived, written, and produced.

Do a good job, make friends with your co-workers, please the clients, and eventually you'll feel comfortable enough to ask for more responsibility and let the higher-ups know your aspirations. Again, you probably won't leap right from assistant to writer, but perhaps your boss will let you help write a few spots... or rewrite a few lines... or pitch an idea... or something that will allow you to begin showing off your writing chops. Eventually, you'll impress people enough that you will move up the ladder and begin writing your own spots.

Hope that helps, Wendy!... and for the rest of you who may have questions about TV, film, writing, agents, or anything else… please feel free to email me at WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com. Have a good weekend!

P.S. If you haven't seen them, here's a compilation of Geico's caveman commercials...

GEICO'S CAVEMAN COMMERCIALS

READER QUESTION: Protecting Your Work: Part II (an afterthought)

Chad — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 17:27:11 GMT

First of all, special thanks to Heather, a lawyer who responded to yesterday's post about protecting your work with the following advice:

"It may be that writers don't typically register scripts with the US copyright office, but I can tell you (as an attorney) that the ONLY way to get into federal court with a claim of copyright infringement is with a US copyright.

The WGA registration won't be enough (which is probably why screenwriters don't use it in court to claim copyright infringement).

Mailing a copy of the script to yourself (and leaving it unopened with the postage dated) won't do you any good either, legally.

This is not to say that Chad's advice here is incorrect; what is written here may very well be what screenwriters do. But legally, the US copyright is the only one that will stand up in court.

But even that will only protect the *expression* of the idea in your screenplay. Ideas themselves cannot be copyrighted, so the script must be extremely close to yours to fit the definition of copyright infringement. A similar plot won't be sufficient."

Heather-- this is a terrific, valuable info-- THANK YOU!

Secondly, Heather's post made me realize I didn't mention the #1 way most working Hollywood writers protect their work when sending it to studios, networks, production companies, producers or other readers and buyers...

They send it through an agent, lawyer or other type of middleman.

Most professional screenwriters use an agent, which-- in California-- is a representative legally bonded by the state and empowered to procure work and negotiate contracts (different states have different rules about who can be an agent and what they can/can't do).

Others use a manager, which-- technically-- are simply supposed to be career advisers and can't legally procure work or negotiate contracts (but this doesn't mean they don't do it... the lines between agents and managers have become very fuzzy).

Rarely are lawyers used to submit material or procure work, but this doesn't mean it can't happen. Still, most lawyers simply negotiate, proof, and execute contracts.

Of course, if you don't have an agent, lawyer, or manager, it's tougher to submit work this way. If you have a lawyer friend-- even if they're not an official entertainment lawyer-- perhaps you can ask them to submit your material anyway. It's not the usual mode of business, but at least there's some layer of legal protection... or, at the very least, the appearance of legal representation.

Having said all this, there's still no guarantee of protection. As Heather points out, the only way to TRULY protect a piece of writing is through the U.S. Copyright Office, and-- to be honest-- I've never heard of a writer doing that. And as I pointed out yesterday, I don't believe ideas DO get stolen in Hollywood... at least not on a regular basis.

At any rate, as a writer struggling to break in, what you should be worrying about isn't how to protect your ideas... but how to get them in front of as many official buyers as possible...

READER QUESTION: How Should I Protect or Copyright My Writing?

Chad — Sun, 19 Oct 2008 18:30:29 GMT

Hey, everyone--

Today’s reader question comes from Joseph, who writes…

“I have recently finished my first spec script and am about to start the revision process. I am planning to give the first draft to some writer friends of mine, one is a professional screenwriter, in order to get some feedback. Although I trust them, I want to be sure that my investment and work are secure. When should I register my script with the copyright office?”

Thanks for the question, Joseph! I hear this question a lot, so you’re speaking for a lot of writers out there.

Also, be prepared… I know my answer is going to stir up some controversy, so be prepared. And if it does stir up controversy—if anyone reading wants to comment—please comment below! (I love getting good heated chatter on the comment boards!)

So, here goes…

Part One (non-controversial):

Screenwriters don’t actually register scripts with the U.S. Copyright Office. They register them with the Writers Guild of America, the labor union which represents and protects most writers working in film, TV, and even radio. This is a super-simple process which you can now do online for $20 (click HERE to go right to the WGA’s registration page). You don’t even have to be a member of the Guild to do this—anyone can register their script, treatment, reality TV idea, etc.!

(To be fair, you probably COULD register your work with the copyright office, but I’ve honestly never heard of anyone doing this, and I have no idea how it’s done. The WGA is the standard registration outlet for screenwriters. I’ve also heard you can put your script in an envelope and mail it back to yourself. Then, simply keep the unopened envelope in a safe place; the postmark indicates the date on which the contents were created, proving you wrote the script before that date. But again—the real registration place is the WGA.)

Having said that, everything you write is—in theory—legally copyrighted as soon as you put it down on paper. So a WGA registration isn’t necessarily better proof than simply mailing your script back to you. Sure, the WGA registration process is more specific and specialized than simply mailing a script to yourself, but it’s not necessarily BETTER.

(To be honest, I’ve never heard of anyone claiming their script was stolen, then using WGA registration as proof to win their case. Maybe it has happened; I’ve just never heard of it. I will say: the Guild often steps in to arbitrate rewrite disputes, like when George Clooney went “fi-core” early this year over Leatherheads, and the WGA is usually very fair in these disputes.) (I don’t know why Clooney was so upset… if I were him, I wouldn’t have WANTED rewrite credit on Leatherheads.)

Part Two (here comes the controversial part):

While I never discourage anyone from registering their scripts with the WGA, I don’t usually “encourage” it, either. Mainly because: IT DOESN’T REALLY MATTER. Here’s why…

TV and movie ideas rarely get stolen. I know people think they do… and we’ve all heard legends and horror stories of “I know a guy who wrote a script just like Quarantine, he tried selling it, and two years later another company came out with a movie just like it”… but the truth is…

IDEAS RARELY GET STOLEN IN HOLLYWOOD.

First of all, there are no new ideas out there. My old screenwriting teacher used to say, “Whatever you’re working on, you must always assume there are five other identical projects in development at the exact same time”… and he’s right. I once had a student approach me at one of my classes, claiming he had an original idea that had NEVER been thought of—he was sure of it—and he wanted to know how to protect it. But when he pitched me the logline, it was just like a TV series already in development at two different networks.

Now, just because there are similar projects out there isn’t reason enough to not worry about protecting your work. What it means is this:

IT’S RARELY YOUR IDEA ITSELF THAT HAS VALUE… IT’S THE EXECUTION OF THAT IDEA.

In other words, ideas themselves are almost worthless; it’s a writer’s unique take on any idea that gives it value.

I often use the example of The Cosby Show and Everybody Loves Raymond. On paper, these are nearly identical TV shows: befuddled dads attempt to maintain control over their worlds as they navigate marriage and fatherhood. But the execution of these shows—how their storytellers see the worlds in which they live—is drastically different, and no one would accuse Raymond creators Phil Rosenthal or Ray Romano of ripping off Bill Cosby.

You can probably come up with a million different examples, shows or movies that are similar but have very different takes… Fringe and The X-Files, The Sixth Sense and Stir of Echoes, etc.

Executive, producers, networks, and studios know this. After all, they’re not just looking for good ideas… they’re looking for good writers who can EXECUTE those ideas. Writers who have unique perspectives and fresh ways of seeing the world. Which means if you’ve done your job well, in both developing and writing your script, your story can’t be told without you.

Thus, the best protection your script has is to make sure you’ve told a story ONLY YOU CAN TELL. Or rather: make sure you’ve written a story only you can tell in the way you would tell it… and in someone else’s hands it becomes a different story.

So, am I suggesting you don’t protect your work? NO. If spending $20 on a WGA registration gives you peace of mind, I say GO FOR IT. (And for $20, why not?) But I certaily wouldn’t let NOT being registered stand in the way of showing my script to people or getting feedback.

And whatever you do, DO NOT—repeat: DO NOT—put your WGA registration number on the front of your script. Don’t even write “WGA registered,” which some fledgling screenwriters do. THIS IS A SURE SIGN OF AN AMATEUR. Professional screenwriters do not do this… and the moment producers, execs, or agents get a script with this emblazoned on the script, the thought that flashes through their mind is: “amateur.” And while they’ll still judge the script on its own merits, you’ve already planted a tiny seed that may—even a tiny bit—affect their read.

So, to sum up: go ahead and register your script. It can’t hurt. But know that you’re simply paying for peace of mind, to quell your own fears (which, as a neurotic writer, I know can be overwhelming)… not necessarily any genuine protection or stamp of professionalism.

PITCH WORKSHOP/READER QUESTION: The Importance of Loglines

Chad — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 06:42:17 GMT

Hey, everyone—

Just wanted to give a quick follow-up to Tuesday’s episode of the Script Notes Pitch Workshop… and an answer to a question asked by Scott, the author of Tuesday’s Pitch Workshop entries. Scott writes:

“Wow, thank you so much for all your help. You are completely right, I know what the story is about but I have not explained that. I think i just found it so hard to distill my ideas into one or two sentences that I end up just writing generic lines.

Should I expand them a bit beyond two sentences? Or should I focus more on keeping it short but packing more information in? I could write a paragraph which would be a lot simpler and easier to read, but I dont want to write too much.”

Scott… I’m so glad you asked, because I get this question a lot: some version of “I can’t distill my story idea into just one sentence,” or “My story is too complicated to be condensed into a single line.”

It’s a common challenge… every writer goes through it… but here’s my answer… (and I’m gonna sound like an asshole when I say this, so I’m just gonna say it)…

If you can’t distill your story into a single sentence, you don’t yet know what your story IS.

Now, I know what you’re thinking… “Of course, I know what my story is… it’s my story… how would you know if I know it or not?!” But bare with me…

There’s not a story in the world that can’t be boiled down to one sentence. The Iliad, Citizen Kane, A Rose For Emily, The Office, Freddy Vs. Jason, Dragnet… every tale in the history of the world can be told in a single line. Take a look…

• Kim, a twentysomething recovering drug addict, must confront the ghosts of her family’s past when she returns home from rehab the week of her sister’s wedding. (Rachel Getting Married)

• Liz, a thirtysomething TV writer, attempts to maintain her artistic integrity, vision, and sense of self as she produces a sketch show under the aegis of a massive commercial corporation. (30 Rock)

• When terrorists kidnap the president and take over the White House, Mitch Rapp—a level-headed, tough-as-nails secret agent—must single-handedly do what the ineffectual U.S. government can not: infiltrate the White House, rescue the president, and defeat the terrorists. (Transfer of Power)

Now, these loglines aren’t necessarily perfect, but I do think they sift out each story’s essence: the story’s main character, what that character wants, obstacles in her path, and a sense of how the story works emotionally.

So being able to write a logline isn’t just developing a sales tool, a succinct blip to quickly communicate your story… it’s an exercise to help YOU understand the basic nut of your story, it’s primary narrative and emotional engine.

THIS is the most important purpose of the logline… to laser-focus you on the core of your story. Which is why I say: if you can’t tell your story in a single logline, you don’t yet know what that core is.

Perhaps you’re trying to tell too many stories at once… perhaps you don’t fully understand your main character… but until you can articulate your story in one tight sentence, you still have some developing and pre-writing to do.

Anyway, Scott… I hope this helps (without sound too asshole-y)… and please keep reading and posting! Coming up in the next few days, we have more Pitch Workshop entries, new movie reviews, some great new websites, and more!

Chad

READER QUESTION/GUEST PERSPECTIVE: Is It Possible to Balance Single Parenthood and a Writing Career?

Chad — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 19:57:08 GMT

Hey, folks—

Today’s reader question comes from E. Daniels, who asks:

“Is it possible for writers to balance a career and family? With all the talk of being trapped in a room for 14 hours, I'm wondering if it's even possible to be a single parent and make a living as a TV writer, particularly given that most people move away from their families/support systems to start their career in Los Angeles. Thoughts?”

Well, E. Daniels… I’ll be honest: I’m not a single parent, so I didn’t feel fully qualified to answer this question myself. Which is why I tracked down someone who did… my friend Jennifer Vally, one of the other writers here on Reality Binge. Jen has written on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, The Late Late Show with Craig Kilbourn, Reality Remix, Street Smarts, and many more shows for both broadcast and cable networks… AND she’s raised two daughters.

Jen was really gracious in letting me pick her brain for a while. So without further adieu, here’s Jennifer Vally…

CHAD: How did you begin working as a TV writer? How did you get to where you are now? Tell me about your path?
JENNIFER: I started as an actress in plays in high school… in San Diego… and college. I went to junior college in Orange College, and my second year I was hired by a professional theater group and I did summer stock. From there, I decided I wanted to move to L.A. and find my fame and fortune.

I didn’t find my fame and fortune right away, but I was very ambitious. I always produced stuff, got myself on stage. I joined a comedy sketch improv group and we got to be pretty famous. We opened for Garry Shandling; we went around the country. And then I got tired of writing by committee so I started doing stand-up. And from stand-up, people started asking me to write jokes. One of my very good friends who would ask me to write jokes got a job writing on The Keenan Ivory Wayans Show, and that was all I needed. I was like, “if he can get it, I can get the job.” So I got a job working on that show.

Around that time, I was reading in the paper about the Oxygen network, and I said, “Boy, this is something I should really check: a network for women.” Because even as I was working, I would be the only woman writing [on staff], or one of two, or one of a few. So when I heard about the Oxygen network, I got very excited. I literally did all the networking myself; I had no agent. I just found out they were going to do twelve shows [and] called down to Sunset Gower, [where] I heard they were setting up production offices. I hounded them and sent my stuff and they hired me to write for the show. I was the only female writer, writing for a show called I’VE GOT A SECRET for two years… I wrote 112 episodes all by myself. From there, it just evolved and I got jobs working on different shows.

Where in that timeline did you have your children?
I actually started doing stand-up when I was six months pregnant with my youngest one. The day I had my child I was performing at The Laugh Factory. I got offstage, my water broke, and I went to the hospital and had Hannah—the same exact night I performed.

It was tough because I was single. I don’t have any immediate family in the area. My parents are from overseas, my mother lives in San Diego, I have no relatives. So I had to do everything on my own, [like] find sitters. In the beginning, I had to take my kids with me to comedy clubs and have other comics watch my kids while I did my set.

How was that lifestyle for your kids? Did they like it? Did they understand what you were doing?
They couldn’t come to a lot of the gigs… because they’re in clubs; you have to be twenty-one. But [one time, I was performing at a sober house and took my oldest daughter]. And I was telling some jokes and she got up and ran out of the room, in the middle of my set, crying! Afterwards, I went after her and she was like, “I had no idea this is what you did! You talk about me!” I hadn’t even said anything about them! I’d said that I had kids and she was mortified and ran away screaming! It was horrible. But then, when I started getting jobs on TV… then they were excited about it.

You've been working steadily as a TV writer for many years, so you have good traction and many contacts. But starting out as a TV writer is a much different ballgame than continuing to work once your career is moving. What are the biggest challenges, both personal and professional, faced by a single parent just trying to break in?
My advice to someone would be: CREATE YOUR OWN OPPORTUNITIES. So many times people come to this town and give themselves deadlines. People say, “I’m giving this six months, and I if I don’t make it, or if I don’t get a job in six months, I’m leaving.” Well, you might as well just leave, because you are setting yourself up for failure. Nothing is going to happen that quickly. It’s all perseverance, working hard.

But how can people do this? If someone moves to town with almost no contacts, how can they "create their own opportunities?"
Years ago, I started this cable access show. This is a way someone new to town could [do something]. For thirty-five dollars, they’ll teach you how to edit and do all this stuff, and there are many cable access networks in the city. You can use their facilities to tape whatever you want for two hours, with a crew, for forty bucks. It’s professional quality stuff, so I did a show called Chick TV, and from that show I won two grants: a grant from the NEA, [and another] from private foundations, because it was a comedy show featuring women. You just create your own opportunities.

There are writers groups all over L.A. I get emails from friends of mine who are starting up writers groups all the time; someone writes a screenplay, or even just a page, and they’ll go with other writers and read each other’s work. Or have actors say them out loud. So even if you’re not working, you can still get your words read by other people… and see if you’re gong on the right track.

Also… UCLA and all these places have extension courses where you can take screenwriting classes and other things. I’ve never done that, but people say they like it.

If you’re coming from out of town, I’d [also] suggest getting a job anywhere in show business. I’ve worked on a lot of productions where even the simple P.A. moves up to another position. So if you’re new and don’t know anybody, take a job anywhere at a production company. Even if it’s just answering the phones, be nice, show them you’re creative, slip your head in; after you know the place, slip them a few jokes, some samples. They’ll take a look at it because they know you and they know your work ethic.

Production assistant jobs are pretty low-paying gigs. Is it possible to be a P.A. and support your family or raise children?
You’ll have to come out with some money saved because P.A.’s don’t make much money and work longer hours. But that’s the best way for someone with absolutely no contacts or experience to get their foot in the door.

Is it possible to work as a full-time P.A., with a part-time job on the side? Could you work as a P.A. during the week, but also work at a restaurant, or a movie theater, or as a secretary?
You might be able to. [A girl in my office now] was our very own example. She’d work on the weekends as a nanny and a P.A. during the week.

As you said, P.A.'s-- or any low-level entertainment positions-- often work brutally long hours for very little pay. How does this impact your ability to be a good parent? Can you still be a good mom or dad while working as a P.A.?
That’s something you have to really work at. If you have a lunch break, you can run home. When I first started working long hours at Oxygen, I literally had to have a team of handlers. I would take the kids to school in the morning, then I had someone who would pick them up in the afternoon, someone else who would take them to their things, and someone else who would stay with them at night. It’s tough. Your weekends are very precious, and any down-time you have, you come… or you have them brought to the set. You spend as much time [with them] as you can.

The thing about working as a writer—or anything in show business—there are periods of unemployment. [Also,] when you are working, you make enough money that you should learn to manage it [and] save it, so when you aren’t working, you don’t have to stress. That’s when I catch up on all that mommy time.

That brings up a good point: being a TV writer is an incredibly unstable job. Sometimes you work for many months; other times there are long dry spells of unemployment. How do you and your family survive the dry spells... both financially and emotionally?
Keeping busy helps. There are all kinds of freelance writing jobs you can do from home: grant-writing, writing for websites, writing for different organizations. You’re not going to make the same amount of money, but at least you’re still keeping in it.

What’s great about [times of unemployment] is: that’s when you can volunteer at your kids’ school. I was PTA president for six years at my daughter’s middle school. So I was either involved 100% or involved 20%. It gives you a chance to be involved in your kids’ lives when you wouldn’t have the opportunity otherwise. If you were working a nine-to-five job every day of the year, you wouldn’t have those opportunities, so it’s nice to have down-time every once in a while.

What are some other advantages you find working as a TV writer? Some things you feel you've "gained" being a single mom writing for television? Advantages in your personal life you wouldn't find if you had another job?
It gives you enough money to send your kids to the dance lessons, the gymnastic lessons. So when you are working, they’re keeping busy, because you don’t want your kids to slip away or slip through the cracks or get in trouble. Because I hate to say it, but if you have money, you have the resources to give them opportunities you wouldn’t working at a regular job.

And the follow-up question: are there things you feel you've lost, or personal disadvantages from working in television?
I don’t think so, because when my kids see me working, happy, productive, and being able to raise a family, that reflects on the kids. I’m happy, so they’re happy.

How much harder is it to break into TV-writing if you're a single parent?
It’s just another job, so when you’re a mother you learn how to juggle a career and have kids. But I will mention that for a woman, especially when you want to go into comedy, it’s a LOT harder. The truth is: most guys—and I did comedy for years—they don’t think women are funny. That’s the bottom line: “women aren’t funny.” So you just have to break into that boys club. I’ve worked on several shows where I was the only woman… or one of two. So there’s that disadvantage, too. But if you’re talented, people will hire you.

Breaking into TV-writing is always tough, but it's even tough for out-of-towners. What advice would you give a single parent who lives out of town, but is considering moving to L.A., to help him/her make the transition? What can he/she do before moving to L.A. to help the move-- and the professional transition-- go more smoothly?
If you haven’t done any writing in your hometown, I’d suggest you do as much of that as you can before you come out here. I’m sure there are plenty of opportunities in any city to be in a theater group and write a play, or local news, or the local entertainment show. It’s hard to break in here unless you have a little bit of experience or are willing to take the time. [Especially] if you’re coming out with NO experience, stay in your hometown a bit longer, get SOME experience, even if it’s just sitting at home writing a screenplay [or] spec script, then send it to people in Los Angeles before you make the move. Get some advice, see if it’s the right move for you.

We always hear that in order to have a TV-writing career, you must live in Los Angeles. is that true? Does an aspiring TV writer need to live in L.A.?
Not in this day and age. Every major city has the news, the “Good Morning, Mike & Mary,” plays, theater. Start in your town before you come out.

Earlier you suggested people just moving to L.A. should start at the bottom as a P.A. or other low-level position. But if you've spent many years building to a level of success in another industry... as a doctor or lawyer or secretary or fireman... it's tough to begin again. If you've been successful in one career and decide to try your hand at writing, do you really need to begin at the bottom?
Yes. If you have a field you’re already an expert in, find [writing] jobs doing that. There are always writing positions in every job—law offices, doctors. Everyone needs someone writing something for them, so start by writing for the doctors or the lawyers.

If you were advising a single parent just beginning a career as a TV writer, what are the top 3 "do's" you would offer him/her? What are thre three things he/she should be sure to do to balance parenthood and a professional life?
Number one: have good samples of your work, whether it’s a play, a short story, a spec script, a bunch of scripts. Have some samples to show.

[Number two:] do your homework. Find out what kinds of job you want… what your niche is, what your specialty is. Have in mind what you want to do before you set out. I like variety, so that’s what I’ve been going for. I like writing jokes, I like writing sketches.

A friend of mine created a long-running sitcom, and she used to call me, crying about the hours. Literally, she was working 18-20 hour days. That job wouldn’t have worked for me with my kids. As lucrative as it was, I just couldn’t do it. So find what you like and go for it. Do you want to be a sitcom writer? Do you want to work on hour dramas? Do you want to work on a talk show? Watch TV shows you like and see what production companies make those shows. Then arget those specific companies. Do some research and see if there’s a way in.

Number three: don’t expect help from anybody. You have to do it all on your own. Create your own opportunities. Don’t wait for somebody to give you a job. Be proactive. When I was doing that chick TV show, I would put out ads in looking for women, different talent. I’d talk to these women and say, “What do you do to further your career?” “Oh, I wait for my agent to call me.” Well, that’s not how it works. You have to find your own jobs, create your own opportunities. If you want to be a writer, hook up with an actress; write her something and do a one-woman show or a play. Then you can invite people from the industry to see your work.

What are the top 3 "don't's" you would recommend?
You should NOT give yourself a deadline, a timeline, because that’s just setting yourself up for failure.

Don’t come to L.A. to be a writer if you’re doing it just for the money. You’ve heard writers make lots of money and that’s why you do it. You will fail. You have to do it because you love it and that’s what you want to do; you would do it regardless of whether you’re making a lot of money or not.

Don’t be afraid to knock on doors you think will be closed: you never know. Let’s say you love reality shows and would love to work behind the scenes on Survivor. Don’t be afraid to go to Mark Burnett Productions and say, “Can I do something here?” They need P.A.’s every day of the week… and people fall out all the time.

[And lastly,], don’t let anybody squash your dreams. If you have dreams, go for it, but be proactive, that’s my number-one thing. Don’t expect to have anyone really help you. Don’t sit around and wait for someone to give you a job. You have to do it on your own. If you want to be a writer, write every day, even if it’s just writing in a journal.

READER QUESTION: Is the Script Workshop Still Up and Running?

Chad — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 18:18:31 GMT

Hey, folks--

Today's question comes from Scott, a new reader who asks...

"I was wondering if [the Script Notes Pitch Workshop] was still running? I have a couple of loglines that I am working which I would like to get some feedback on, just to see if I am going in the right direction."

Well, Scott-- you've come to the right place. The Script Notes Pitch Workshop is absolutely still up and running. In fact, we switched it from being a "cycled," or timeline-based, workshop to just being an open-ended program. At any time, feel free to post a logline or short synopsis as a comment on one of the posts... or email it to me at WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com... and I'll get it up on the site.

I try to comment myself on most of the loglines/summaries that come in, and I also post them so other readers can give feedback as well.

So feel free to submit away, Scott (you can even put your loglines as a comment to this posting)-- I hope the workshop's helpful and you get some good feedback!

In the mean time, keep reading... we've got some great stuff on deck... a discussion on copyright and script registration, some new book reviews, and a guest perspective on balancing a writing career with single parenthood (don't worry, E. Daniels-- I haven't forgotten you)!

READER QUESTION: What kind of conditioner do you use?

Chad — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 19:00:42 GMT

Today's reader question comes from Supernerd, who responds to this weekend's post, "In Defense of 'Bad TV Writing,'" with this comment:

"Chad, you do have fabulous hair. What brand of conditioner do you use?"

This is an excellent question, Supernerd, and to be honest-- I'm surprised I don't get asked this more often.

The shocking answer is... I don't condition. (Although yesterday I was at a hotel and DID use conditioner, only because they had a little bottle on the sink. But then I forgot to wash it out, so my hair was slimy and weird-feeling all day.)

I basically just use shampoo, and usually whatever's cheapest and has the nicest smell... like something citrus-y from White Rain or Suave. Suave tends to smell better, but White Rain has a nostalgia factor since I used to solidify my hair with their hair spray back in high school. I recently bought some shampoos that have green tea in them, because it makes me feel very trendy and metro, but they don't smell as good as ones with kiwi or melon.

Anyway, I hope that helps, Supernerd! Thanks again for reading, and stay tuned for more writing chatter and hair-care tips. Coming up over the next few days, some great stuff...

We'll have a special guest talk about E. Daniels' question re: balancing a writing career and single parenthood, we'll get to Wendy's question about TV and screenwriting contests, and we'll talk about some new books about animation, sound design, and more!

In Defense of "Bad TV Writing"

Chad — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 18:55:31 GMT

Hey, guys—

Wanted to take a moment and respond to an interesting comment posted recently from reader JNG.

First of all-- thank you, JNG, for the comment! I LOVE it when people comment here, and I’m always hoping/trying to get people to chat and discuss creative, business, social, or political issues concerning the world of television. So I really appreciate your comment, and I hope it’s a conversation starter!

For the rest of you-- JNG responded to my post about Amanda the Aspiring TV Writer’s blog, and here is what he/she writes…

“No wonder most TV writing is so bad. When writers spend their formative years working within the industry itself--rather than actually experiencing life in the outside world--it's hardly surprising that they have nothing interesting to say about that outside world. Dick Wolf was right. It's a shame that TV has constructed barriers to entry that ensure its continued mediocrity.”

I thought this was an interesting point… because I think JNG is very right… and also very wrong.

I completely agree with JNG… great writing comes from great living, and the best writers are those who spend as much time experiencing as much life as possible, then use those experiences to fuel their writing. I think this applies to ANY art… painting, sculpture, acting, photography. Art is a comment on and expression of the human condition and the world around us, and the more you know about the world and humanity, the more you have to say about it. Using myself as an example, I went from undergrad right into a graduate writing program, and I’ll be honest… I sometimes think my writing would have been helped more by traveling the world, or working as a deep sea fisherman, or farming lentils, or any number of things that would’ve dropped me into interesting places and situations.

Having said that, I’m also not sure one person’s life experiences are more valuable than another. I once read a saying that I often think about, and it went something like this: “As an artist, it’s not what you choose to look at in the world, it’s how you choose to look at it.” And I think that’s probably very true. Living life is important, but it’s less about where you go, what you do, and who you meet… than how you experience what’s available to you.

Now, while I agree that writers—both individually and as a collective—should always be striving to improve, here’s where I DISAGREE with JNG…

“No wonder most TV writing is so bad… It's a shame that TV has constructed barriers to entry that ensure its continued mediocrity.”

The thing is, JNG: I actually think there’s a TON of OUTSTANDING writing on television right now. In fact, I think television right now—and over the last few years—has had more brilliant writing than at any other time in its history. I mean, just think about shows that have been on over the last few years: The Sopranos, Mad Men, Family Guy, Lost, The Office, Grey’s Anatomy, House, 24, The West Wing, Arrested Development, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Monk, The Wire, The Simpsons, Sex & The City, Six Feet Under, 30 Rock… the list goes on.

This isn’t to say there haven’t been some wonderfully written shows in other times (The Twilight Zone, Mary Tyler Moore, All in the Family, Hill Street Blues…). And it’s not to say there aren’t some horrible shows on TV right now. And it’s not to say even today’s great shows haven’t had some not-great episodes, arcs, or even entire seasons. But I would venture to say there are more top-notch shows on TV right now than top-notch movies in the theater. And if you compared the good-shows-to-bad-shows ratio to good-movies-to-bad-movies ratios… TV shows would win. (Which isn’t necessarily to use “well, there’s bad writing in other mediums” as an excuse; it’s just to say, “I think bad writing exists in EVERY medium, TV included, but I think we happen to have a lot of strong, creative writing on TV right now.”)

As for the “constructed barriers to entry that ensure [TV’s] continued mediocrity,” I agree that there ARE barriers, unfortunately, that keep out some talented writers. But I think that’s also a function of the fact that TV-writing is usually about much, much more than writing. In other words, television has more factors than any other medium which affect what you perceive as a show’s “writing.”

In almost any other medium, a writer can sit in his office, pour stories onto paper, deliver them to a producer or publisher, and not be bothered with them again. This couldn’t be LESS true in TV writing. (Also, I know this is a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the idea.)

Not only is TV writing intensely and necessarily social, but there are a million non-writing factors which affect the “writing” that appears on screen.

For example, a writer (or writing staff) might write a BRILLIANT story, or story arc, about a new character. They then cast a brilliant, talented actress to play the role. But then the actress, who was stunning in her audition, shows up to shoot her scenes… and she can’t pull it off. For whatever reason, she’s not funny... or she’s not convincing… or she’s unlikable. Suddenly, the writers must rewrite the entire role, often on-stage as production continues, so the schedule doesn’t get thrown off. This not only changes the character, but it has ripple affects into all the stories and characters around it. And suddenly, when the story appears on screen, the writing is no longer as brilliant as it once was.

Or… a writer might write a terrific scene that takes place on a creepy boat dock in the middle of the night. But when it comes time to shoot the scene, the production can’t afford the dock. Or it won’t fit into the schedule. And the best solution is to rewrite the scene so it can be shot at a location already being used… like a golf course in the middle of the day. So the scene must be rewritten, as well as possible, to accommodate the change and still keep the scene’s intent. Obviously, this not only changes the scene itself, it changes everything around it. And suddenly, when it appears on screen, the writing doesn’t seem as brilliant.

Or… a writer might write a wonderfully complex action sequence, a perfect example of pacing, tension, and build. All the locations are available. All the resources are ready. But then, once the crew is on set, they find the sequence is more complex than they had thought. Or a traffic accident slows them down. Or it rains. Or an actor is late. And suddenly, they don’t have time to shoot the entire sequence the way it should’ve been shot. The best solution?... Do a quick rewrite, simplifying the sequence. The result still works… just not as well as the original. And suddenly, the brilliant writing doesn’t seem so brilliant.

Now, obviously, these kinds of challenges arrive in any collaborative production medium: film, theater, etc. But here’s the difference…

A film shoot can be stopped or postponed in order to fix problems. Not so in television. A TV show—once it’s up and running—must churn out new episodes EVERY SINGLE WEEK. It’s a train racing forward, full speed ahead, and it can’t be stopped. (Some of you may have read about 24 and Dollhouse recently stopping to fix script problems… but these shows, while in production, aren’t on the air yet… so they have some wiggle room.)

These examples illustrate why TV writing is often the product of much more than just the “writing”… and why it’s tough to truly assess a show’s writing based only on what you see on screen. Sure, there’s bad writing… and the writers deserve some of the blame for it. But TV writing also goes through so many layers and filters that “bad” writing isn’t always the result of bad writers.

But these examples also illuminate why barriers to entry are so high for TV writers. The good ones do much more than just write. Most take on “producer” responsibilities as well, helping with casting, supervising on set, working with designers, etc. The best become showrunners, overseeing virtually every aspect of a show’s production. But even those lower on the food chain are writer-producers… and those who aren’t, those who do nothing more than just “write,” rarely excel very far.

As a result, “the constructed barriers to entry” help weed out those who can’t hack it as a bona fide writer-producer. Working in the industry gives young writers—like Amanda the Aspiring TV Writer herself—experience in the business… experience in production, relationships with writers and directors and designers, opportunities to read scripts, visit sets, or participate in development meetings, etc. Sure, it’s all industry-related experience that may not be “experience” in the “outside world,” but as a friend of mine who writes on Lost always says, “If you want to just sit in a room with a pad and pen and write, go be a novelist or a poet or a playwright… but you’re probably not cut out to be a TV writer.” That’s not a slap in the face, it’s just a simple fact: different jobs take different skills, and writing for TV requires more than just words on paper.

Having said THAT, TV’s “barriers to entry” aren’t perfect… and I’m sure they do keep out some deserving writers. But that just means you have to work harder. No one said this would be easy… if it was, it wouldn’t be worth doing.

Anyway, that’s my long-winded response to JNG’s post, as well my defense of “bad” TV writing… and of all the Amandas working at agencies, studios, or networks in hopes of breaking into the writers room. (Next week, I’ll be writing in defense of sweatshops and child labor.)

Feel free to respond (please!). Agree, disagree, bash me, or extol my many virtues (and my great hair).

READER QUESTION: Why shouldn't I write an "origin pilot?"

Chad — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 02:16:37 GMT

Hey, guys—

First off, I want to give a HUGE THANK YOU to E. Daniels and everyone else who submitted questions to Eric, our host at Reality Binge, for him to answer on his funny blog. You can submit whenever you want, so please… keep ‘em coming!

Secondly, wanted to take a few moments to answer a great question I received the other day.
This question comes from Susan, who took my pilot writing class last week. Susan writes...

“You recommend not writing an ‘origin pilot’ (a la Lost), but writing a pilot that could be episode 100 or episode 1. But aren't pilots where the main character moves to Alaska (Northern Exposure) or gets hit on the head (Samantha Who?) origin pilots? Or do you mean a literal creation of a whole new world type of thing?”

Great question, Susan! To get to that answer, let’s take a quick step back to catch people up…

As I said last week last week, many writers often make the mistake of thinking that a pilot is simply the first episode of a TV series, and your job in writing a pilot is to write the beginnings of a story and characters that make people want to keep watching.

While this is PART of what a pilot is, it’s only partially/somewhat/occasionally accurate.

In truth, a pilot is designed to be a prototype of a typical episode or your series. Yes, it’s introducing your audience to the world of your story (and before your show is on the air, your pilot’s “audience” consists mainly of network execs who decide whether to air your project at all), but it’s also meant to show networks how the show will work in series. Which means your job is not only to launch a story that can sustain itself for years to come, but to illustrate how that series will generate and tell stories whether it’s at episode 10 or episode 500.

Thus, if every episode of your show is a close-ended story in which your main character, a detective, solves an art heist, your pilot needs to show that detective solving an art heist. If every episode of your series shows a group of friends helping each other through wacky dating situations, your pilot needs to show that same group of friends helping each other through funny dating situations.

In other words, while your pilot is—in some way—unlike any other episode of your series (because it’s the beginning of your story), it must also work just like every other episode of your series.

So, now that we understand this, there tend to be two types of TV pilots: origin pilots and "traditional pilots" (to be honest, I’m not sure if non-origin pilots have a special name, so I just call them “traditional” pilots).

Traditional pilots work just like a regular episode of the series. In fact, some—like the Everybody Loves Raymond pilot—are nearly indistinguishable from regular episodes. They spend very little time introducing characters, setting up stories, etc. They just throw readers/audiences right into the world and start the show.

Origin pilots begin at the VERY BEGINNING of the story. Jericho kicked off with a nuclear attack. Grey's Antaomy begins on the day Meredith meets the other interns and McDreamy.

Different pilots work differently. The question is: WHICH IS MORE SELLABLE OR MORE ATTRACTIVE TO NETWORKS AND STUDIOS?

The answer, almost unequivocally, is: “traditional” pilots. Remember, the true job of a pilot is to show audiences—including network buyers—how the episodes works on a regular basis, and traditional pilots do this MUCH BETTER than origin pilots, which have so much “pipe to lay,” or story to set up—that they frequently don’t work like subsequent episodes.

(In fact, sometimes the series’ original pilot never airs… or airs out of order… because the network simply wants to jump right into the meat of the story. Firefly and Cavemen both aired their pilots later in the series. Ed shot a pilot, decided not to use it, then cut it into an quick montage that opened the first episode to set up the story.)

Now, Susan, you ask about pilots like Northern Exposure and Samantha Who?, where Joel moves to Alaska or Sam gets hit on the head and goes into/awakes from her coma.

Many pilots, obviously, are indeed telling the beginning of a story, so they can’t scrap ALL the elements of an origin pilot. After all, they still need to START THEIR STORY (by moving Joel to Alaska or putting Sam in the coma). But they also need to show how the episodes work. Thus, they usually set up their story as quickly as possible, but they also work hard at illustrating how future episodes will play out.

The CSI pilot, for instance, began with a new detective (Holly) joining the CSI team. It was a new day for the CSI gang… they had a new member. (This also allowed the storytellers to introduce the other people, places, and situations organically, since Holly was just meeting them for the first time.) But the rest of the episode then followed the crew as they solved what would become a fairly typical CSI mystery. (And they even killed off Holly, our entrée to the world!)

Similarly, the Grey's Anatomy pilot begins with the interns meeting each other for the first time… but it also has typical close-ended patient stories (Meredith and the girl with seizures, George and the open-heart patient, etc.).

Other pilots don’t bother setting up story at all. The Cosby Show, like Everybody Loves Raymond, just plunged right into its basic family-life storylines.

Your job, Susan, is to decide which type of pilot works best for the story you’re telling. I would never say: "NEVER write an origin pilot." Some shows, like Lost, require more origin set-up than others. Others, like The Cosby Show, can get away with diving right in. You need to write whatever story launches your story the best. HOWEVER...

The most important thing to keep in mind is this: a pilot isn’t designed simply to be the first step in a longer story, it’s designed to be a selling tool that shows network buyers how that series will work on a regular basis.

(Think of yourself as a door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman. You want to wow your potential buyers with something flashy, cool, and sexy... but you also need to show them how the vacuum works. If they don't see how the machine will work on a regular basis, it doesn't matter how cool and attractive it is... they won't buy it.)

If you can remember that—even if you’re telling an origin story—you’re well on your way to writing (and selling!) a successful pilot.

I hope that answers your question. And please, everyone, if you have others, don’t hesitate to shoot me an email: WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com!

Talk to you soon…

Chad

READER QUESTION: I Don't Live in L.A.; How Should I Sell My Reality Idea?

Chad — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 15:28:06 GMT

Today's question comes from CONNIE, an aspiring reality producer who lives in a state far from Los Angeles...
"I was at a party and ran into an acquaintance whose brother is a [low-budget film] producer... and I told him broadly about my [reality show] idea. He said that he might be interested in developing my idea. Do I need a lawyer to negotiate for me? I don't know where to begin to find a good entertainment lawyer - especially here in the provinces. Should I sell to the first bidder and get out, or should I try and find an agent and hold out for a more legit company? What would you do?"

Hey, Connie—

Thanks for the question… this is an interesting dilemma, especially for you and all the other readers who live far from the madding crowds of Hollywood.

The first thing to discuss is how TV shows are actually sold. Unlike in the rest of the world… where buying/selling transactions mean Person A pays Person B an agreed-upon price to wholly acquire a product, then Person B goes away… television works a bit differently.

When a network “buys” a TV show idea, they do acquire the rights (usually), just like in a traditional business transaction. But RARELY does the seller/producer go away. In fact, the most important part of a TV idea is almost NEVER the idea itself… it’s the writer/producer/storyteller behind it. A mediocre idea in the hands of a talented and proven producer is almost always more attractive and sellable than a brilliant idea from a total novice. So the TV network wants, needs, and often EXPECTS that person to stay around. In fact, it’s nearly impossible for a total novice to sell an idea at all, no matter how brilliant it may be.

(This is for many reasons… A: networks and studios want to hire producers they know can execute their own vision, B: networks and studios also tend to hire producers they’ve worked with and continue to trust, C: EVERY IDEA—no matter how original its creator may think it is—has been pitched, developed, or done before; so an idea itself rarely has value… it’s the producer’s vision and execution that make it unique and sale-able.)

As a result, when a TV network or studio buys an idea, they don’t just pay the seller one large paycheck and then own the property in a single transaction. In fact, because the seller usually sticks around to produce the project, there usually isn’t one set price. Rather, the buyer and the seller agree on a producing fee which is paid to the producer over the life of the project.

So, for example, if you sold a TV network or studio a show called “Connie’s World,” they probably would NOT say, “We love this idea, Connie—we’d like to buy it from you for $100.” Instead, they’d say, “We love this idea, Connie—we’d like to produce it with you. We’ll own the project—or at least the majority of it—but we’ll pay you $60 to produce the pilot and $40 per episode to produce the subsequent episodes.” (These numbers aren’t accurate, obviously—they’re just examples.) These “producing fees” would be negotiated between you and the buyer at the outset. You may also negotiate maintaining ownership… or a certain amount of ownership… in the project. The “real money” in TV comes from owning TV shows, or pieces of their backend, not in producer fees… so it’s to your advantage to maintain as much ownership over your project as possible.

All of this helps answer your questions, because if your producer-friend wants to “buy” your project outright, it says two things to me:

1) You shouldn’t do it. Or at least, you shouldn’t “sell” him your project in its entirety. Partnering with him is a different thing… and he may make a valuable PARTNER, which we’ll discuss in a moment. But I wouldn’t wholly sell him your idea.

2) If he wants to “buy” your idea outright, it suggests he doesn’t understand how television works. Now—you don’t necessarily say this in your question, so I’m kind of inferring... (and to be fair, you say he just wants to “develop” it, which seems more appropriate)… but just be warned: whenever someone—especially a not-established TV network, studio, or production wants to “buy” an idea—it’s usually a red flag to me that they don’t understand how the TV business works.

So the question is… IS THIS GUY THE PRODUCER/PARTNER FOR YOU?

Only you can ultimately answer that question, but use these criteria to help…

To produce a TV show, or convince a buyer you can produce it, three things must be covered by the selling team…

1)   You need a strong creative vision (this is primarily where you come in, since the idea is your baby)

2)   You need the ability to physically produce the show… to shoot it, budget it, prep it, post it (and practicalities will often affect the creative vision/execution, so your physical producer should be someone you trust creatively as well)

3)   You need to have the connections and track record in order to sell it. Buyers like networks and studios rarely take meetings with strangers and newbies, let alone buy projects from them. So you need to have someone who can get you in the door and convince buyers you have the ability to make this TV show. If it’s not you, or a producing partner, it can be agent or manager.

If you don’t have all three of these points covered yourself, that’s when you need a producing partner… in this case, your film producer friend.

The questions you must ask yourself are:

• Does he have the ability to produce this show physically? Not just as a one-off, like a movie, but as a long-running series?

• Does he know the appropriate reality executives and producers to pitch this to? And if so, does he have strong enough relationships with them—or a track record—to convince them he can do this?

If the answers to these questions are yes, you’ve found your partner!

If the answers are no, you may want to keep looking. Partnering with the wrong person can hurt you more than not partnering with anyone, because you burden the project with unattractive attachments, and that makes it a tougher sell to execs and producers. So be very careful about who you partner with!

Having said that, I understand that you want to move forward, and this producer may be your one resource to helping get this project off the ground.

Perhaps you can work with him simply to develop the concept and shoot a sizzle reel or demo. He probably won’t work for free, but you could negotiate a plan to pay him only for his work on this stage of the project. It could be a work-for-hire arrangement, in which you pay him just to help you develop the idea and shoot a sizzle reel. Or it could be arrangement in which you defer his compensation and pay him only if the idea sells. You could even offer him a piece of the project’s backend if it sells; HOWEVER—since, at this point, you have no control over how much backend—if any—you may get, you can only offer him a piece of YOUR potential backend, not the whole project’s. (In other words, let’s say you offer him 15% of the backend; you can’t really offer him 15% of the show’s backend, you can only offer him 15% of YOUR backend.)

To answer your final question, Connie—do you need a lawyer/agent/etc. to negotiate this?—probably. I’m NOT a lawyer/agent/etc., and I know very little about the machinations of these things… but you should have legal representation any time you want to legally protect yourself or your ideas.

Having said that—I don’t know how many entertainment lawyers are out there in your neck of the woods. Most of them, obviously, are in places like LA, New York, Nashville, etc. And, unfortunately, I think you’ll have a nearly impossible time convincing one—if they’re not already your best friend or relative—to take you on as a client.

However, there probably ARE lawyers in your area who can handle this… or refer you to someone you can. Ask around at entertainment-related places that would have these connections: local TV stations, radio stations, talent agencies, commercial production companies, universities with media departments, etc. You’ll have to pound the pavement a little, but I promise: there are probably less than six degrees of separation between you and your lawyer.

Anyway, Connie—I hope this helps! Good luck with your project, and I hope to see it on TV soon!

For the rest of you… if you have questions, please don’t hesitate to email me at WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com

Talk to you soon!

Chad

READER QUESTION: Should I Shop Both a Script and a Novel Version of my Story?

Chad — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 06:17:28 GMT

Today's reader question comes from avid reader Chris, who has a very interesting question...

"I was thinking about using a screenplay I’d written as a pseudo-outline for a book, and even adding back in some of the scenes that I cut to make the script tighter. My question is, if by a miracle I feel that both products are really good, can I shop the screenplay and the book around at the same time?

Thanks, Chris"

Hey, Chris—

As I said, this is a really intriguing question… in fact, I have a story idea I’ve wanted to write for a few months (okay, who am I kidding? It’s been a few years, to be honest…), and I’ve tried it as both a movie and a novel, but I haven’t been able to crack it in either form. Which is neither here nor there in regards to your question, I’m just saying—I’ve been (kind of) in your shoes.

But in terms of shopping your two versions, here’s the thing…

I see no reason why you can’t shop them both around at the same time. HOWEVER…

The two versions don’t necessarily “help” each other; in other words, having a novel version of your story doesn’t make your screenplay more sellable, and having a screenplay version doesn’t make your novel more sellable.

Basically, because both pieces are written on spec, neither has any real value to buyers, outside of its own quality.

Now, if one of them were to sell, the other MIGHT suddenly become more valuable. I.e., if a publisher snatches up your novel, especially if it’s a high-profile publisher or a big sale, film companies or studios may suddenly be interested in the movie rights. This doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll care at all about the script you’ve written—they might not even want to read it—but their interest may at least be a bit more piqued. (And if they DO want to make a movie, they’ll probably want to develop it from scratch, with their own input and guidance, rather than use your pre-written script.) A few years ago, for instance, first-time novelist Michael Reisman sold his children’s sci-fi novel, SIMON BLOOM, THE GRAVITY KEEPER, to Penguin. The book wasn’t scheduled to be published till 2007, but his manager slipped a copy of the manuscript to director Gary Ross, who loved it so much he acquired the film rights months before the book actually came out. Although the manuscript had to be good enough to stand up on its own, the fact that it had already been vetted and accepted by another buyer gave it added value.

Of course, simply selling one of the pieces does not, in any way, guarantee buyers will want the other version. In fact, for unpublished authors, a sale itself rarely does much to raise the cachet of its project or author. Michael Weisman’s story—while inspirational—is a definite anomaly. Whether writing in film or print, you probably need your project to actually get made or published and then turn into a bona fide HIT. Once the story is a genuine success in one medium, buyers will be more likely to see its potential in another. Movie producer Scott Rudin, for example, bought the movie rights to Marisha Pessi’s first novel, Special Topics in Calamity Physics… but only after it had been published and received stellar reviews.

Anyway, Chris—all of this is to say that I don’t think it can hurt you to shop both your book version and your screenplay version… but it also doesn’t really help you. So if you want to put in the time and energy to write both versions… go for it.

Personally, I think your time and energy are probably better spent writing two original pieces, regardless of the medium. Like an athlete exercising different muscles, writing new/different pieces will not only help you get stronger as a writer, it’ll illuminate different sides of your skills.

Either way, I can’t wait to read your book AND see the movie… whichever comes first!

Good luck… hope this helps!

Chad

PITCH WORKSHOP: The First Entry!

Chad — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 02:32:26 GMT

I am pleased to announce that we have our first entry in the Script Notes Pitch Festival! A big round of applause—and a thank you—for going first goes to E. Daniels, who posted the first one-sentence pitch Thursday evening.

Just as a quick refresher… we’re in Phase One of our Script Notes Pitch Fest, where you all are invited to post one-sentence (“logline”) pitches of your movies or TV shows here on the blog, then readers and myself will give feedback. The idea is NOT to be judgemental, but to help one another whip our pitches into shape and make them as strong (and sellable) as possible.

So without further adieu, let’s take a look at E. Daniels’ one-sentence pitch. E. Daniels writes…

“Each episode finds our twenty-something heroine vowing that today, unlike all the other days, she will quit her job!!! ...just as soon as they validate her parking.”

This is a great TV series pitch with which to begin our festival, because it’s got some strong things going on, and some things that can use improvement. First, the good things…

WHAT I LIKE A LOT:

• E. Daniels’ pitch taps into a personal, emotional dilemma that millions of people experience every day… the desire to quit a frustrating, unfulfilling a job, but the inability to do so because you’re totally dependent on it. Everyone on the planet has gone through this… the feeling of being trapped in a job or relationship but not being able to quit. This gives E. Daniels’ pitch an important element necessary to virtually any pitch – relatability, or the ability to let audiences relate to the story and character, to see reflections of their own lives.

• E. Daniels has also given the pitch’s main character a “want,” an objective, which is the first step in kicking off any story. Characters with strong wants and objectives are forced to act in order to accomplish those wants, and its that action that creates story. So whether you’re pitching a TV series, a movie, or a novel, it’s imperative to know what your main characters want; only by understanding this will we understand your story’s narrative engine. (Having said this, I have some thoughts on this particular want, which we’ll discuss in a moment.)

SOME THINGS I'D IMPROVE A BIT:

While the pitch definitely has strong relatability, it also lacks the specificity it needs to really bring it to life, to allow us to see the character and her world in our heads. In other words, IT’S TOO VAGUE. Here's what I'd work on...

• Give us some more info about our “twenty-something heroine.” While this is only a one-sentence pitch, it’s still important to bring your character to life as much as possible… in as few words as possible. Give her a name and a few choice adjectives. For instance, rather than “twenty-something heroine,” which is fairly nondescript, say “Tara Stone, an impetuous 26-year-old clothing designer…” or “Free-wheeling 25-year-old Rita Webster, who dreams of being a decorated Air Force pilot…” or whatever info you need to give us. Whoever she is… BRING HER TO LIFE FOR US.

• While I applaud the fact that you gave your heroine (who, for the sake of discussion, I’m going to call “Tara”) a want, I’m not sure you’ve given her the kind of want that can propel a television series. While all stories are driven by a character with a strong want, it’s usually tough to sustain a series when your main character wants only one tangible thing… like Tara’s desire to quit her job.

This kind of singular objective is great for propelling one episode, or a movie, or a novel… but it’s tough to sustain a serialized story—like a TV show—with this. A) It means your main character is driven by the same objective week after week, and it’s tough to keep audiences interested in what is—essentially—the same story (or same story engine) week after week. B) In the world of television, these singular wants feel false and “cheat-y.” After all, if we’re following a woman trying to quit her job week after week, we know she can never ACTUALLY quit her job… because it ends the story. So we’re aware from the beginning that we’re watching something very finite, or we’re going to be strung along on the same repetitious journey for weeks on end.

(A handful of TV shows DO work by giving characters singular, tangible goals. Each episode of 24, for instance, finds Jack racing to stop a calamity and stop a very specific villain. But not only are these shows few and far between, they’re rarely successful. 24 is an anomaly, and most of its copycats have failed miserably. Remember THE KNIGHTS OF PROSPERITY, about a gang of misfit thieves planning to burgle Mick Jagger? How about THIEF? Or HEIST? The robbery theme aside, these shows all centered on characters working towards a single event—which is why they’re often called “event dramas”—and most are miserable failures.)

I’d give Tara some larger “life goals” that can not only drive her through the series as a whole, but generate episodic stories as well. On FRIENDS, Joey wanted to be an actor and Monica wanted to be a chef… both goals that would take years of trying, fighting, and figuring things out. More importantly, the characters on FRIENDS had enormous emotional goals… falling in love, figuring out their places in the world, etc. These emotional goals helped spawn smaller, weekly storylines like going on dates, trying a new job, moving to a new apartment, etc.

I’ll give you some examples that will—hopefully—apply to this particular pitch in a moment, but first, I want to tie this into my next note…

• Give Tara some relationships. (I know I pound this notion a lot, but I stand by it. There’s nary a story on this planet that’s not about one thing: RELATIONSHIPS. RELATIONSHIPS RELATIONSHIP RELATIONSHIPS. Giving your main character relationships is important for many reasons…

A) Characters don’t exist in a void, so we only ever truly get to know them by seeing them interact with other characters. Tara—no matter how compelling you make her—will never be interesting on her own… she will only be interesting in the context of other people.

B) Relationships bring the world to life. We all have different kinds of relationships depending on where we are… are work relationships are different from our family relationships, which are different from our romantic relationships, which are different from our friendships. So when your series is set in a specific world—and yours seems to be set in the world of Tara’s work—you should populate it with those appropriate relationships.

C) All good stories (or for that matter, pieces of art in ANY medium) work because they reflect the lives and experiences of their audiences. So by giving Tara relationships that reflect the real world, we—your audience—are able to see reflections of our own lives in Tara and her life. If she has a tumultuous relationship with her mother, we see aspects of our own relationship with our mom in that… if she has a loving, supportive boyfriend, we see our own romances… if she competes with her brother, we recognize our own sibling rivalries.

D) Lastly, TV shows, especially, are deeply grounded in their relationships. A movie, for instance, can often succeed with weak characters and relationships but a very strong plot. Not so with a television show, which needs to bring audiences back week after week. And while viewers obviously want strong stories, what really attracts them is relationships… returning each week to a world whose characters’ lives reflect their own. When you think of WILL & GRACE, for example, you may remember a few favorite episodes, but what you really home in on is the indissoluble bond between Will and Grace… their love for each other, their disagreements, their support, etc…. and the antics of their friends, Jack and Karen.

This is why the “wants” of most TV characters are concerned not with singular tangible wants, but with their relationships with other people. For example, while Charlie and Alan on TWO AND A HALF MEN want tangible things in each episode—to score with a particular girl, succeed at work, etc.—their overall wants, the wants that propel them through the series, have more to do with being good fathers to Jake, finding female life partners, etc.

Anyway, all of this to say… I’d swap out Tara’s want of quitting her job for something more relationship-based. Maybe something like…

“26-year-old Tara, an impetuous assistant at Moshman Designs, attempts to navigate corporate politics, sniping co-workers, and a micro-managing boss as she struggles to succeed in the cut-throat world of graphic design.”

Or…

“As 24-year-old Tara knows, it’s not easy being the world’s greatest undiscovered opera singer… especially when your boss thinks you’re his girlfriend, your co-workers don’t trust you, and your only friend is the 15-year-old copy boy.”

Or…

“Incorrigible Tara longs to quit her job and start her own dance studio… but quitting your job is never easy, especially when you’re boss is your father.”

(I’m not saying any of those are brilliant, or the story you want to tell, I’m just saying they tap into a bit of the same want and conflict, but they also flesh out the world and give a sense of Tara and her relationships.)

• If possible, give us as much info as you can about what kind of series you’re pitching. Is it a one-hour drama like DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES? A single-camera comedy like EVERYBODY HATES CHRIS? A half-hour multi-cam like RULES OF ENGAGEMENT?

And, if you can, give us a title! You may change it later, but a title helps establish the tone and gives us a bit of a visual image to wrap our heads around.

For example…

“EXPOSED BRIEFS is a single-camera comedy that follows the misadventures of Tara, a young paralegal who dreams of becoming a big-shot lawyer… if she can just convince the alpha-males at her father’s law firm to give her a shot.”

Or…

“INSEAMS, a one-hour dramedy, chronicles Tara, a seamstress in a floundering dress shop, as she juggles a domineering boss, back-biting co-workers, and a freeloading boyfriend as she struggles to quit her job and make it as Chicago’s hottest new clothing designer.”

Anyway, E. Daniels—I hope this is helpful! Again—thanks so much for posting… and for the rest of you, keep the loglines coming. You can post in the comments section below this post, or back in the original entry. And feel free to post your thought on E. Daniels’ pitch as well!

What Are the Upfronts?

Chad — Thu, 22 May 2008 20:26:39 GMT

Hey, screenwriters—

As many of you know, last week was television’s biggest week of the year… the New York upfronts… and I’ve gotten several emails discussing, speculating, and asking about this year’s announcements. Several people asked exactly what the upfronts are, so I wanted to take a moment and discuss… what exactly are the upfronts, and why are they so important to television?

“Upfront week” is usually held mid-May, and—on the surface—it’s the week when all the broadcast networks descend on New York to hold massive presentations at which they announce their fall schedules to advertisers and press. They unveil new shows, returning shows, midseason possibilities, etc.

Traditionally, these presentations are multi-million-dollar stage shows, complete with fun segments like special short films, spoofs of TV shows, etc. A couple years ago, FOX shot a short “24” parody starring Keifer Sutherland, and NBC has done “E.R.” spoofs. Marc Cherry, creator of “Desperate Housewives,” once did a choreographed musical number with the women of Wisteria Lane, and last year CW had president Dawn Ostroff snuggle on stage with a live panther to announce the pick-up of “Life Is Wild” (which turned out to be one of the worst-performing and quickly canceled new shows of the season). Most networks also trot out big-name TV stars, casts, showrunners, and producers of their shows.

After the presentation, which usually lasts 1-2 hours, everyone heads to a restaurant or giant tent for a gala party where the media and advertisers can rub elbows with TV big-wigs and actors.

Click HERE to read TV Week’s post-upfront report on all the shows each network picked up.

This year’s upfront presentations were a bit different than in years past. Thanks to the writers strike, many networks hadn’t finished all their pilots or decided what new series would definitely be debuting. Also, because networks took financial hits because of the work stoppage, many scaled back the extravagance of their network presentations, shortening presentations and/or eliminating the after party. NBC took an interesting tack; rather than holding a traditional stage show which spotlighted just their primetime TV schedule, they created “The NBC Experience,” an “interactive” carnival-like event that illuminated the many different platforms on which NBC content plays: TV, mobile phones, the Internet, etc. Guests could screen TV shows, take photos with stars, play games with the American Gladiators, eat food from Bravo’s Top Chefs, etc.

Broadcast networks aren’t the only distributors to hold upfront presentations. Cable networks also hold upfronts, but rather than holding them in May, with the broadcasters that dominate most of television, cable channels and kids networks hold them a few weeks earlier, usually in March and April. Cable upfronts also don’t tend to be as gargantuan and flashy as the broadcast nets’. In fact, cable upfronts are often as simple as network executives meeting with individual ad buyers and presenting their schedules face to face (which many feel is a more intimate, effective way of doing business). Also, as online entertainment continues to grow, many Internet production companies and distributors are beginning to hold upfronts. Broadband Enterprises and MSN both held upfront presentations this year, announcing their own online shows and series.

Here’s the interesting thing about TV upfronts… The term “upfront” itself is actually a bit of a misnomer. People usually use it to refer to the “upfront announcements,” or presentations. But the truth is, the announcements and presentations are simply the kick-off for the upfront buying season, which is the most important part of the upfront process. Here’s why…

As you know, broadcast networks (and many cable networks) make most of their money by selling advertisements in their TV shows. Networks’ ad salespeople sell ads in their TV shows year-round… but during the upfront buying season, which begins with the May announcements and ends just before the fall season begins, they offer advertisers special incentives to buy ads. They may sell ads at reduced rates or guarantee shows will draw audiences of a certain size.

In other words, the upfront buying season is like a GIANT BARGAIN PRE-SALE… and it’s where broadcast networks sell up to 90 percent of the coming year’s ad spots.

Ad spots that aren’t sold during the upfront season are sold on the “scatter market,” which means they’re sold a la carte throughout the year. Ads sold on the scatter market are not sold with the same incentives given to buyers during the upfront season. In fact, the cost of an ad in a particular show can rise or fall as the year progresses, depending on how popular the show is and how high demand is to advertise in it. Ads in super-popular shows obviously cost much more ("American Idol" sold ads for a million dollars this year), and less popular shows cost less. The most expensive scripted show to advertise in is “Grey’s Anatomy,” which—last year—charged over $400,000 per ad spot. The least expensive shows last year were the CW’s comedies—“Everybody Hates Chris,” “Aliens in America,” “Girlfriends,” etc.—which charged less than $50,000 per ad spot.

The upfront buying season consists of intense jockeying and negotiating between networks selling ads and advertisers buying them. Networks use tactics to try and boost ad prices, while advertisers try to get the best deal possible. And because everything is negotiated, different advertisers often end up paying different prices for the exact same spots within a show! Networks also must strategize how many ad spots in each show to try and sell during the upfront season. For instance, if they have a new show they believe will be a humongous hit, but advertisers aren’t giving them the dollars they think the show is worth, they may opt NOT to sell many ads during the upfronts… then, when the show becomes a smash hit that fall ad buyers are clamoring to put their ads in it, the network can jack up the price.

Of course, as new mediums bubble up and Tv’s business models change, so will the process of buying and selling ads. I don’t think the upfront buying season is going away any time soon—and even though cable and the Internet are eroding broadcasters’ holds on audiences, broadcast networks are still the indisputable big dogs of the TV landscape (at least for now)—but we are starting to see the ad buying/selling process evolve.

Some places have experimented with reverting to TV’s old model of having advertisement-free shows which are simply sponsored by a single company, brand, or product. FOX cut out half the commercials in its upcoming sci-fi series, “Dollhouse” and “Fringe,” allowing them to have less “clutter” in each episode and charge more for ad spots. Other advertisers and networks are bypassing traditional ads altogether in favor of “product integration,” where an advertiser pays a show, or its network, to integrate a particular brand or product into the show’s story. This is different than mere “product placement,” where we simply see a character drinking a Coke or eating a Snickers. Production integration involves making the product a legitimate part of the story, like when Gabrielle, on “Desperate Housewives,” gets a job as a model for the Buick Lacrosse.

It’ll be interesting to see how TV advertising changes over the next few years… especially as it affects TV’s creative processes.

For now, however, I hope that was a helpful crash-course on the world of TV advertising. And keep the questions and comments coming! You can post them in the comment section below, or email me at WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com.

Talk to you soon!

-- Chad

READER QUESTION: How Do Recent College Graduates Break In To Hollywood?

Chad — Sat, 17 May 2008 19:01:15 GMT

Hey, screenwriters—

Today’s mailbag question comes from Zane, a college student who writes:

“Do you know of any good opportunities in Hollywood for recent graduates? I have a strong interest in the industry, but am not sure of the best method to start my career. I am considering other work options and then getting an MBA, after which I might come back to my search in Hollywood.”

Well, Zane, you’ve come to the right place. I love helping college students, and I actually run an alumni networking organization, Vandy-in-Hollywood, for my own alma mater, Vanderbilt University. So I’ll tell you what I tell those students…

First of all, getting a job in Hollywood is almost always about contacts and relationships more than resumes and grade point averages. So unless your uncle runs Paramount or your sister has a hit TV show, your first step is to put yourself in places and situations where you can rub elbows and meet people who can help you. Which basically means… MOVE TO LOS ANGELES.

Unlike other jobs, where recruiters and interviewers come to college campuses, hire young employees, then give them time to move to the new city, Hollywood jobs rarely hire you unless you are currently living in L.A.. This is because when you’re hired, most employers want you to start asap. As in, tomorrow. Or in a couple days. Which doesn’t work if you’re living somewhere else, and many out-of-towners flake out before actually showing up.

Secondly, be prepared to start at the bottom. Almost everyone who starts in Hollywood begins as an assistant of some kind—usually a production assistant (or P.A.), which means you’ll be fetching coffee, running errands, making copies, stocking the fridge, etc. It’s grunt work no one else wants to do, but it allows you to observe the industry, learn how things happen, and—perhaps most importantly—network and make contacts. You’ll meet everyone from other entry-level P.A.’s and executive/administrative assistants to agents, producers, and executives. You can learn more about getting a P.A. job in THIS POST from a few months ago.

Thirdly, know what you want to do. If you don’t, which is fine, know what you DON’T want to do. Many college students make the mistake of saying, “I’ll do anything,” which makes you just about the LEAST HIREABLE PERSON ON THE PLANET. Employers want to hire people who are focused and ambitious, who will pour their heart and soul into even the most basic job because they intend to use it as a stepping stone. And while students often worry that being specific about their dreams and goals will close off certain opportunities, employers rarely want to hire the person who is simply willing to “do anything.”

Having said this, many young people genuinely aren’t sure what they want to do, and that's okay. But spend some time thinking about it. A good place to start is thinking about what you DON’T want to do. For instance, if you know you have no desire to work in television, or with costume designers, or in special effects, eliminate jobs that point you down those career paths. Think about what kinds of entertainment you like best. Do you prefer comedy over drama? Independent films over blockbusters? Adaptations over original material? See where your likes and dislikes take you, and while you may not be ready to say, “I want to do set design for low-budget period films,” you MAY find you’re able to say, “I know I like reality shows and documentaries, and I prefer cable channels to networks.” That helps you begin finding your focus and telling employers what you want.

Having said all this, Zane, I realize I haven’t REALLY answered your question. Which is: “Do you know of any good opportunities in Hollywood for recent graduates?”

So let’s get to that.

HERE is a link to a post that lists some good job-hunting websites and strategies (it's the same link as above, if you've already been to it).

Another great way to get your foot in the door is to get an internship, which basically means you’ll be working for college credit instead of a paycheck. Unfortunately, California makes it tough for recent grads to get internships, because state law requires you to get EITHER money or college credit… and since most internships are unpaid, you must receive credit… which is tough if you’re already graduated. However, you can sometimes persuade your school to “not graduate you” for a few months so you can receive credit for the internship. Or, enroll part-time in a local community college, like Santa Monica College, where you can often pay less than a hundred dollars to receive one hour of internship credit.

HERE is a link to another recent post about internships.

Lastly, Zane, I’ll say this… an MBA will only help you in Hollywood in a handful of jobs, mostly in the financial/business sector of the industry. While an MBA will obviously give you lots of knowledge and information, it probably WON’T help you get a job as a development executive, or a writer, or a lighting designer, or a director, or even an agent. I have plenty of friends who have gotten their MBAs in hopes of becoming an agent or manager or executive, and they STILL must start at the bottom, working as an assistant, and climb the ladder with everyone else. They may climb a little faster, simply because they have a broader base of knowledge, but—with a few exceptions—having an MBA probably won’t help you get a typical “Hollywood” job.

HERE is a link to a recent post about graduate film school… which obviously isn’t the same as business school… but, I think, speaks to many of the same pros and cons.

Anyway, I hope this all helps. Good luck… feel free to email with other questions… and, when you have that killer job, HIRE ME!

Chad

READER QUESTION: How Are TV Writers Paid?

Chad — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 01:00:31 GMT

Hey, screenwriters—

Today’s question comes from Dan, who comments at the end of Friday’s post in reference to something I had written about writing on TV shows. I had written…

“You might be hired [on a TV show] for 10 weeks… or 6 months… or even just one episode. It varies from show to show (not to get too technical, but the amount of time you’re hired for usually depends on how many episodes the show expects you to work on).”

And Dan asks…

“I understand TV writers get paid per episode they write (usually 2 a season, no?). Do they also get paid week-to-week for time spent in the writer's room breaking stories and punching up the other writer's drafts?”

Well, Dan, you are exactly right… kind of. How TV writers get paid is a pretty complicated arrangement, but here goes…

First of all, when it comes to getting paid, TV writers are divided into two categories: staff writers, or entry-level, bottom-rung writers… and everyone else above them. Let’s look first at everyone else above them…

WRITERS ABOVE STAFF-WRITER LEVEL

First of all, most TV writers’ compensation is regulated by the Writers Guild of America, which establishes minimum payments that a writer must be paid. These minimums go up each year. Right now, for instance, the minimum payment for writing one episode of a half-hour TV show on a broadcast network (ABC, CBS, NBC, FOX) is $21,585. The minimum for an hour-long show is $31,748.

When a TV writer is hired onto a show’s staff, he/she is contracted to work on a certain number of episodes. But he/she is also contracted for a certain number of week (usually 6, 14, or 20), so the studio can’t bind you to 6 episodes of some show, then drag them out over two years.

Thus, the WGA also establishes minimum weekly payments. Right now, for example, the weekly minimum for 6-week hire is $3,817, and the minimum decreases if the writer is hired for more weeks. So the weekly minimum for a 14-week hire is $3,548. The weekly minimum for 20 weeks is $3,272. So the more work a writer is guaranteed, the less the studio pays.

HOWEVER… even though a writer is contracted to work on a specific number of episodes over a certain number of weeks, his weekly average can never sink below the WGA’s weekly minimum. In other words, he can’t be given a 14-week contract to write one episode of a half-hour sitcom, at the minimum rate of $21,585, because that would make his weekly payment only $1,542… far below the WGA’s 14-week minimum of $3,548/week.

(Which is why, when writers/agents/execs negotiate a writers salary, they often speak in terms of what the writer makes per week.)

Still with me? Good. And if you’re not—don’t worry. I’m pretty confused myself right now. Which is we’re writers, not accountants. But hold on, because things are about to get even MORE tricky…

You know all that “writing” a writer is contracted to do?... IT DOESN’T INCLUDE WRITING AN ACTUAL SCRIPT. This is because most mid to upper-level writers are considered “writer-producers,” and their base salary is considered payment for OTHER writing-related duties… beating out stories, fleshing out characters, rewriting other scripts, etc.

So when a salaried writer does write an actual script, he gets paid an additional “script fee” ON TOP of his weekly salary. In other words, let’s say you get staffed on How I Met Your Mother at $5,000/week for 20 weeks. That’s $100,000. BUT… when you write your first script, you get paid another $21,585 (at least; remember—it’s only the WGA’s minimum). Which means if you write two scripts over the course of the season, your total take-home pay for the 20 weeks is $143,170 ($100,000 + $21,585 + $21,585). (Of course, you’ll have to pay your agent, your lawyer, taxes, etc.)

Got all that? Good. Now let’s look at…

HOW STAFF WRITERS GET PAID

Unlike everyone else on the writing staff, “staff writers,” the writing staff’s lowest level writers, are not considered “writer-producers.” They are pure writers. This results in two main differences in their payment plans:

1) Staff writers are not guaranteed a certain number of episodes, so they’re only paid a weekly salary, which is usually the WGA’s week-to-week payment. So if a staff writer is hired for 14 weeks on How I Met Your Mother, he’s probably paid nothing more than the WGA minimum of $3,548/week… for a total of $49,672.

2) Staff writers do not get paid script fees on top of their weekly salaries. So if that same staff writer is hired to write on How I Met Your Mother, at $3,548/week for 14 weeks, and he writes two episodes on his own… HE DOESN’T MAKE ANOTHER DIME. An upper level writer, however, would’ve made an additional $43,170 in “script fees,” because script-writing is considered to be in addition to his salaried “writer-producer” duties; but with staff writers, their salaries go against their script fees.

(A staff writer would, however, get paid extra money if he wrote three episodes… because the combined script fees for three half-hour episodes would be $64,755, which comes out to $4,625/week. And since a writer with a 14-week contract must make at least $3,548/week, he’d probably get another $15,083 so he’s making the mandated minimum. However, staff writers almost NEVER write three episodes… or even two. Many don’t even write one.)

Having said all this, it’s almost important to know that most writers are rarely guaranteed a certain numbers scripts they’ll actually get to write. So when a contract has a “13 episode guarantee,” that simply means the studio promises to pay the writer his their weekly salary equivalent to 13 produced episodes. It doesn’t guarantee he’ll get to write thirteen… or even one. I’ve known shows where a sinly writer wrote five or six episodes… or more. I’ve also known shows where specific writers—usually lower-level newbies—didn’t write a single episode.

Anyway, Dan—I hope this helps. But if it hasn’t… if it’s left you more confused than you were before… then, well, welcome to Hollywood.

If anyone else has questions they’d like me to confuse them about, feel free to write me at WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com.

Until next time…

Chad

READER QUESTION: From 9th Grade to Hollywood...

Chad — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 01:47:39 GMT

Today's question(s) comed from Corey Nolter, a 9th grader who's an aspiring screenwriter working on a research paper about his future career. Corey asks a ton of questions, so I'm just gonna dive in. Corey-- I hope these answers help... lemme know how the paper turns out... and I expect a thank you in your Oscar speech! Here ya go...

Hi, my name is Corey Nolter and i am a 9th grade student trying to finsih a research paper for school. The research paper is about the feature career I want for my future. I would like to be just what you are a Screen Writer or someone who works in that area, However i was just wondering if you could answer these questions.

1. Do you enjoy your career? Do you ever think you have chosen the wrong path? Explain.

I love my career… and EVERY DAY I wonder if I’ve chosen the wrong path. I know this sounds crazy… so I’ll explain. First of all, I never question that I was born to write. I love writing, and I’ve wanted to be a professional writer for as long as I can remember. But this is a hard—and by “hard,” I mean “nearly impossible”—profession to have any kind of real stability in.

In almost every profession in the world, you have a salaried position that gives you a regular paycheck… and, hopefully, benefits, vacation time, etc. For screenwriters and TV writers, that almost never happens. And by “almost never,” I mean “never.”

Screenwriters and TV writers are freelance employees. Whether you’re the lowliest staff writer on a TV show or the highest-paid screenwriter in Hollywood, YOU’RE A FREELANCER. Which means you’re never ENTIRELY sure where your next paycheck will come from, and you almost never have a job that gives you benefits, retirement packages, or vacation time. (Most professional screenwriters get benefits through the Writers Guild, the labor union representing professional TV and film writers. As for vacation time, well… you go on vacation between jobs.)

Now, there ARE certain jobs that provide a semblance of stability. TV shows, for instance, are written by staffs of writers, and each person on that staff is hired for a certain amount of time. You might be hired for 10 weeks… or 6 months… or even just one episode. It varies from show to show (not to get too technical, but the amount of time you’re hired for usually depends on how many episodes the show expects you to work on).

But even these TV jobs are temporary. You may get contracted to write for 10 weeks… and then not be asked back at the end. Or you may get contracted for 10 weeks… and the show gets canceled after only two weeks.

So whether you’re a lowly staff writer on a TV show or Hollywood’s highest paid screenwriter, the life of a writer is one of agonizing uncertainty… especially if you have a spouse, kids, your own home. After all, it’s hard to support people who are depending on you when your future is always murky.

Of course, the more successful you are, the more work you are able to get… but that doesn’t necessarily make your job more stable. Marc Cherry, a veteran TV writer, spent years as a highly-paid TV writer, writing on shows like The Golden Girls, before suddenly hitting a dry spell and not being able to get a job for several years. Then, in 2003, he created Desperate Housewives and became one of television’s hottest writers. But for many years before that, he couldn’t get a job.

I have a friend who’s a producer on Lost, and he always tells aspiring film and TV writers: “If there’s anything else in the world you want to do… anything else that interests you… go do it. Unless this is the ONLY thing you care about… DON’T DO THIS.”

I think that’s a good thought—not just as a gauge of how hard this industry, but of what it takes, mentally and emotionally, to survive within it. The odds against success are incredibly high… and even when you find success, you can’t take it for granted.

So, Corey, in answer to your question: I do enjoy my career… because I love TV, movies, storytelling, and the written word. But very few days go by that I don’t wonder if life would be better if I was an insurance agent or a fireman or a librarian or a professor. If I didn’t have to fall asleep sweating every night because I have no idea if I’d be making any money in a week, or a month, or a year. If I knew I could give my wife everything she wants.

The problem is this: I don’t think I’d be very good at any of those things. Sure… I guess I could LEARN to be a librarian or an insurance agent or a professor (although trust me—I’m the LAST person you want to be a fireman)… but I think I’d be pretty poor at most of those jobs. So… for better or worse, I’m here in. Writing TV and articles and books and this blog… and praying—literally praying—that I can do this long enough to actually say I made a life at it.

2.How many years of education does it take for you to become a writer?

I guess the blunt answer to this is: NONE. That’s not to say writers aren’t highly educated, intelligent people… or that there aren’t some top-notch colleges, conservatories, and grad schools out there. I got my MFA from UCLA. But to be honest… I don’t think any education prepares you for being a writer better than just LIVING.

Now, this does NOT mean you can just drift along and expect to get writing jobs. Writing is hard work that takes years and years of practice, growing, trial and error—both in and out of school.

What it DOES mean, however, is that writers—first and foremost—write about people. And life. And the world around them. So your first job, as a budding author, is to get out in the world and study it. Read everything you can: books, screenplays, biographies, graphic novels, song lyrics, magazine articles, poems. Observe people around you… study relationships in your own life and how people connect to and communicate with each other. Keep a journal. Travel. Take interesting jobs. Talk to strangers.

I know this sounds like hokey motivational-speaker stuff, but it’s not. As a writer, your job is to tell stories or create images that reflect the world and its people. So the more you ABSORB the world and its people, the better writer you become. Look at the world’s great wordsmiths and storytellers… Ernest Hemingway, Woody Allen, Aimee Mann, Carl Sandburg, H.P. Lovecraft, Kurt Cobain, Virginia Woolf… whatever genre or medium they work in, they move us because we read their words and say, “Wow… I’ve felt like that.” Or, “Yeah, I’ve felt like the people in this story.” Or—when it’s REALLY magical—“Oh my God… this writer ‘GETS’ me!”

So the short answer to your question, Corey, is: yes, a writer needs a lot of real education: both book-learnin’ and life experience. But where you GET that education depends on how you learn best. Maybe you learn best in the structured curriculum of a top-notch school or university. Perhaps you learn best hopping trains and seeing the world. Maybe you learn best by getting a real job, living in the real world, and spending your nights reading books and writing your own stuff. Everyone’s different… but the tools and skills needed for being a writer aren’t.

3. After College is it tough to get noticed in your area of work?

Extremely. Competition is incredibly, ridiculously high in the field of film and TV writing. After all, there aren’t that many movies or TV shows each year, but there are MILLIONS of people (in L.A. alone, not to mention scattered about the country) vying to sell a film script or get a job on a television show’s writing staff.

To make things even harder, jobs aren’t always given out simply on the basis of talent. Landing a job is a combination of being skilled enough to get the job, having experience working in the industry, and knowing the right people (most jobs are gotten by knowing friends or associates doing the hiring).

This doesn’t mean it’s impossible… or that there are thousands of hugely talented writers walking around looking for work.

Personally, I’m a big believer that cream rises to the top and most truly talented, focused writers get where they want to go. Although to be honest, I don't know if there's any real truth in that... or if I just convince myself of it because-- well-- if you don't believe that, it's hard to remind yourself why you keep trying. Either way, I guess what I DON'T believe is that the world (or even Hollywood) is full of incredibly talented writers who just can’t get their break. Most people who aren’t working aren’t working for a reason. Maybe they’re not good enough yet. Maybe they haven’t networked enough. Maybe they don’t understand the business well enough. Maybe they don’t live in L.A. (like it or not, it’s almost impossible to be a working film or television writer anywhere but Los Angeles).

Having said that, I DO think that there are many ways of making a living as a professional writer and storyteller. Write plays and stage them yourself. Write amazing profiles or features for magazines and newspapers. Publish a blog. Do stand-up comedy.

I say all this not to discourage anyone from pursuing screenwriting or TV writing, but to say that "getting noticed" is often something out of your control... and there are many ways to scratch your writing/storytelling itch besides making TV shows and movies. Not to mention... if you write a great stage play or a powerful short story/article, you may grab the attention of Hollywood anyway. And it often seems that people only "get noticed" once they stop worrying about "getting noticed."

I guess the ultimate truth is: while OBVIOUSLY your goal is to be a working screenwriter, able to use your writing to support yourself, your lifestyle, and your family, you need to be pursuing screenwriting because you LOVE writing, and you LOVE storytelling, and you LOVE pairing together words and images and actions... not because you're dazzled by the lights of Hollywood or visions of dates with starlets or hopes of hanging out with Brad Pitt. Which, sadly, is why many people come out here-- writers, actors, directors, you name it. Yet at the end of the day, those that succeed in getting noticed are the writers and artists who work and sweat themselves to the bone... spending every waking minute perfecting their craft, immersing themselves in the industry, making and nurturing business relationships, etc. ...so when they finally DO get their break, they're prepared-- creatively, mentally, emotionally, professionally-- to seize the opportunity and make the most of it.

Of course, there ARE certain things that almost definitely need to happen-- certain stars that do need to align-- in order to have a shot at getting noticed as a screenwriter:

• You need to be living in L.A.

• You need to have strong writing samples that prove you're a talented writer

• You need to have a good network of professional contacts (which usually means living in L.A. for many months or years)

• You need to have experience writing so an employer knows what you’re capable of

• You have to be the right writer for the right project at the right time… or have the right project/script/pitch to sell at the right time (i.e., you may be the world’s greatest romantic comedy writer, but if an employer is looking for an action writer, they’re not going to hire you—no matter how good you are)

• You need to be in the right place at the right time when someone is hiring (i.e. it’s easy to lose out on a job to someone else simply because… frankly… they happened to be there when the space needed to be filled)

4. After getting noticed is your work environment tough or enjoyable? Like hows the staff,crew,project,ect.

Like all jobs, I find this TOTALLY depends on the people you’re working with. You might get a job on your favorite television show ever… but if you dislike the people you’re working with, you’ll be miserable every day of your life. On the other hand, you could take a job on a film, series, or project that seems horrible… but if you connect with and love the people around you, it’ll be a blast.

5.Is their any on the job training involved?

TONS. In fact—kind of going back to your education question—I’d say the best (maybe ONLY) way to learn how to live, work, and survive in Hollywood is simply to dive in and start DOING IT. Hollywood has a very different work culture than almost any other industry, and no matter how many classes you take or books you read, you won’t understand it till you’re in it.

Understanding Hollywood’s culture—and how to navigate it—is especially important for writers… because unlike costume designers or propmakers or makeup artists, we don’t produce something “physical.” Sure, there’s a script, but we’re basically sellers of storied and ideas, which are ephemeral, emotional, even psychological. So while half of our job is being able write, to put words down on paper and move people, the other half is being able to socialize… to pitch ideas, collaborate, take criticism, offer criticism, etc.

And while it sounds like much of this is simply innate and understanding how to be a nice, polite person (which is true), it also involves immersing yourself in Hollywood to learn the industry’s vocabulary and communication techniques. I.e., how do you break a baby? When should you beat a joke? Who’s the second second? How do you take the note behind the note?

On one hand, this is all industry jargon that’s easy to pick up; on the other hand, these are all skills or bits of knowledge that aren’t really available until you’re on the job. Which is why I always recommend people begin their Hollywood career at the bottom, working as a production assistant, doing grunt work on the set of a film or TV show where they can observe the processes and practices around them.

You can click here to check out an earlier post about getting a job as a P.A. (production assistant).

6. When writing does your company or advisor, give you any special equipment?

Not really—primarily because, as writers, our number one piece of equipment is in our heads! If you’re working on a TV show, your company will often give you an office, desk, and computer… although most writers I know use their own computers. Also on a TV show, the writers will all work together in one room called the “Writers Room,” which is equipped with a large table, chairs, and several dry-erase boards on which to write ideas and stories.

7. How long is a usual shift? and is their overtime?

This depends on the job. In movies, most writers don’t go into an office… ever. They write from home, or their own office, so they set their own schedules.

On a TV show, however, there IS an office. Most writers start their days around 10 a.m., but the end of the day is different for each show. Most TV writing staffs wrap up around 6:00 or 7:00. A small handful have been known to have solid eight-hour days (Everybody Loves Raymond was famous for this.) But many TV writing staffs work incredibly long hours, sometimes until midnight or later. Many sitcoms, for instance, shoot an entire episode in one night… beginning around 5 p.m. and ending anywhere between 10 p.m. and 3 a.m.

And unfortunately, no—there’s usually no overtime. TV writers are contracted to write a certain number of episodes. If they finish those episodes ahead of their deadlines, great (although this never happens); if they need more time, fine… but they don’t get paid extra.

Movie writers are paid per project; they get paid when their script is delivered to the employer on deadline, regardless of how many actual hours they pour into it.

8. Do you and others follow by any schedual or routine to get the writing done in time?

Well, as I said above, movie writers are on their own to get their work done… although their employer may build certain “touchstones” into a project’s schedule. In other words, if you get hired to write a horror movie that is due on July 1st, the company that hires you may want character descriptions by April 25th, a sketchy outline by May 1, a more detailed outline by May 7, a first draft of the script by June 1, a second draft by June 20, and a final draft by July 1 (that’s a SUPER tight schedule… but as an example, you get it).

How the writer budgets his or her time in there is up to them, but I think most writers like to have their own specific routine, whether it’s writing late at night or getting up early, running 5 miles, eating breakfast, and then writing at Starbucks. But most writers find that having a specific routine helps train their writing muscles to work.

In television, however, where writers come in to an actual office, work together, and have tighter deadlines (because they need to shoot an episode each week), it’s a much more structured process. As a team, writing staffs work begin thinking about what “larger” stories and themes their TV show wants to tell… stories that span many episodes and weeks. I.e. on The Office, the Jim and Pam saga has spanned years. Desperate Housewives tells a new mystery each season, and that mystery plays out over several months.

The writing staff then brainstorms what individual story events, or “beats,” need to happen in order to bring these larger stories to life. (I.e., if your TV show is telling a season long story, or “arc,” about a girl named JESSIE deciding to leave her fiance, we need to see several things: Jessie and her fiance together, Jessie being unhappy with her fiance, Jessie deciding to leave her fiance, Jessie deciding how to break up with her fiance, Jessie preparing for the break-up, Jessie actually breaking up with her fiance, Jessie in the aftermath of the break-up, etc.)

The writing staff then spreads these events over the course of a season, where each becomes the basis for—or even just a part of—its own episode. Each episode is then outlined by the staff, then assigned to an individual writer to write. Once the script is written, the writing staff often rewrites the script together, in the Writers Room, all at the same time.

Because TV shows must get an episode on the air each week, they are often under very strict deadlines to have outlines, scripts, and “shooting drafts” finished by specific deadlines. So if the writing staff’s process is too slow, they’ll quickly feel the heat and pressure of being off schedule… and that slows down everyone else from the costume designers to the directors to the set-builders.

9. Is it nice to see a piece of your work transfer into televison, books, or magazines?

Yes!! It’s awesome!! I am by no means Hollywood’s most successful writer or producer, but I’m proud of the work I’ve done… and even though I’ve written articles and produced TV episodes, it’s still a thrill to see my name on screen or my byline in print. It’s a little bit of validation telling you that this thing you love, this thing you set out to do, this dream you cling to because you’re afraid there’s NOTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD you’re capable of doing… isn’t just a hoax. And believe me… most of the time, you’re pretty sure it’s just a hoax. So seeing your name in print or on-screen is an INCREDIBLE feeling!

10.What is the average salary range for this position?

Salaries vary from job to job, and a writer’s salary on one job may be different from his or her salary on the next job. It’s the writer’s job (or his agent or lawyer’s job) to negotiate his payment each time he gets hired… and, hopefully, to get an increase from the last job. An entry-level writer probably gets paid only the minimum payment and may make $60,000-$70,000 per year. Mid-level writers can make $200,000 per year. And experienced showrunners, or head writers, can make well over a million dollars a year. But it's hard to give a specific average salary because so much depends on the show, the network, the level, and the experience of each particular writer.

The Writers Guild, however, does mandate certain minimum payments. The minimum for writing a single one-hour drama episode of television (like CSI or Law & Order), for instance, is $31,748. For a half-hour (My Name Is Earl, Two and a Half Men), it’s $21,585. Movies have a similar structure. You can download the Writers Guild’s “Schedule of Minimums,” which details minimum payments for many kinds of film and TV writing HERE.

Anyway, I hope all this helps, Corey! Good luck with the paper… and definitely write back and lemme know how it goes!

Chad

READER QUESTION: If I Sell a TV Show, How Do I Protect My Merchandising Rights?

Chad — Sat, 05 Apr 2008 22:27:11 GMT

Today’s reader question comes in response to my animation interview with Charlie Stickney last week. BuffyFan47 asks an interesting question…

“I'd like to hear Charlie's and your advice on how an animation writer can protect themselves since - as you noted - they are not covered by the WGA. With tie-in merchandising worth potential billions (see the aforementioned Mr. Squarepants) how does one make sure that someone else doesn't make gazillions off their idea while they get cut out of the process and don't make a dime?”

Well, BuffyFan47, as you asked—Charlie and I put our heads together and basically had the same response.

“There are two types of shows one would write for,” says Charlie. “Pre-existing, and something you've created. If you're writing for a pre-existing show, you're not going to get anything in terms of a merchandising deal.”

In other words, if you get hired to write for Spongebob Squarepants, you’re not going to share in any of the show’s merchandising money, even though you're writing stories and dialogue for the same characters they're selling as toys, lunchpails, and T-shirts.

“Nickelodeon owns Spongebob [in partnership with Spongebob creator Stephen Hillenburg, which we’ll discuss in a moment],” Charlie explains. “And when you write for them, on one of their shows, you write on a work-for-hire basis. Which means -- everything you create belongs to them. It doesn't matter if the show's covered by the WGA, or if you have the biggest agent, etc. When you write for someone else, you're writing for someone else. The best you can hope for is to get the biggest check possible for the work that you do. (This is where having those WGA minimums would help.)”

However, if you create and sell your own show—like Stephen Hillenburg did with Spongebob Squarepants—it’s a whole different ballgame.

When you sell a TV show to a TV network or studio-- whether it's animated or live-action-- you truly sell them the idea. In other words, you relinquish most of your writes and they own the majority of the idea, usually including all merchandising rights. However… they’ll often let you participate in ownership of the idea, offering you a limited number of percentage points in the idea (every show ha 100 percentage points).

I.e. Let’s say you create a show called Wally’s Wacky Fun World, which you sell to NickToons, the company that makes Spongebob. NickToons will own the idea outright, but they may give you 5 of the show’s 100 percentage points… entitling you to 5% of the show’s backend profit. This includes all monies from syndication, movie deals, merchandising, etc.

The number of points offered a show’s creator varies from show to show, depending on the clout of the creator, how savvy his agent or lawyer is, what duties he’ll be rendering on the show (is he gonna stick around and run the show himself, or just pass it off to another producer?), etc. If a big star or another important producer is attached to the project—or comes aboard—he or she may also get some backend points. The network or studio tries to keep as many points as possible, and they rarely give away more than 30.

This holds true for live-action shows as well, although live-action shows don’t usually have as many ancillary products as cartoons. A few shows—usually sci-fi hits like Buffy, Alias, or Heroes—may have toys, comic books, novelizations, etc., but most don’t. (I’ve never seen anyone carrying around a Gil Grissom doll.)

Whether in the process of selling an animated project or a live-action series, “it's up to the writer to look out for themselves,” says Charlie. “Which means… if a studio or production company wants to option, buy or develop your idea, you need to have a lawyer or an agent look over your contracts. If you don't have one, this is the perfect time to get one. Coming to an agent with a deal in hand that they can commission is one of the surefire ways to get represented.”

READER QUESTION/GUEST PERSPECTIVE: How Do I Break Into Clip Shows?

Chad — Sun, 30 Mar 2008 23:43:34 GMT

Hey, screenwriters--

Today's question comes from loyal reader Valerie, who writes...

"Hi Chad!... I am interested in creating clip shows and would love to hear your valuable insight on these types of programs (ie. where/how to license footage, how to sell them (Pods or Network), general production tips, etc...)."

(For those of you who aren't familiar with clip shows, they're TV shows that rely on clips of other shows, a la E!'s The Soup, VH1's Best Week Ever, etc.)

Well, Valerie-- to answer your question, I've brought in a special guest. Here to give you the low-down on clip shows-- how they work, how to write for them, and how to break in-- is K.P. Anderson, the executive producer of what is undoubtedly the funniest clip show on television... The Soup. K.P. is not only a successful stand-up comedian whose appeared on Comedy Central's Premium Blend, he's written and produced for great shows like Politically Incorrect, Mohr Sports, The Wayne Brady Show, and Last Comic Standing. You can visit him on MySpace and check out his comedy schedule at www.myspace.com/kpandersonlive.

But in the mean time, here's K.P. to tell you everything you want to know about clip shows...

CHAD: The Soup, like many other half-hour TV shows, airs once a week. But unlike half-hour sitcoms like The Office or Samantha Who?, The Soup is dependent on that week’s pop culture happenings, so it can’t be written or produced far ahead of time. What’s your process for putting together an episode of The Soup? Walk me through your process, beginning with putting together an episode and ending with airing Friday night.

K.P.: Monday we sit around and wait for shit to happen…usually by Wednesday, some shit happens…

Monday, we take a look at the week ahead and start to come up with ideas for bigger pieces that can be built around TV events or movie openings or a pop-culture story that won’t go away. So it’s a day to plan out commercial parodies, fake movie trailers and the like. Joel McHale as Rainbow Brite was born on a Monday. We also start to watch shows from the following weekend, look at the news and begin writing monologue jokes.

Tuesday we put the bigger pieces in to production by getting network approvals, ordering any costumes or sets and tracking down footage to support them. We also continue looking at the headlines to see who is going to rehab, who is getting arrested and who is marrying Pam Anderson. (It’s like jury duty for guys who itch.) Also on Tuesday we have our first of two clip meetings where myself, our other EP, Edward Boyd and [host] Joel [McHale] if he’s available look at the clips the staff has collected thus far. Once we pick the clips, we head back to the offices to write introductions and jokes or sketches coming out of them. On Tuesday night, I usually take the collected works of the staff home with me and put together a rough scripted rundown of the show for us to see what we have and where we have holes heading in to Wednesday.

Wednesday is when the show really starts to come together. One more round of monologue and another clip meeting, then we shoot any footage we need of Joel or others for any of the pre-produced pieces, we also shoot our “Condensed Soup On Yahoo” promotion and then the writers jam out the rest of the wraps for the clips while the production staff gets busy editing clips preparing pictures and all of our supporting footage and editing the pre-produced pieces. Meanwhile, I collect and edit the final wraps and shoot out the second draft of the script, which goes to the network and all of our necessary legal and standards and practices people. After that, the producers keep working on getting everything prepared, the writers get a breather and I watch whatever we’re covering for the “Let’s Take Some E!” segment. Around 9:30 Wednesday night, Edward and I make the rounds to watch the edited clips and the pre-produced pieces and discuss what’s working and what isn’t. Then we call it a night while some of the producers stay on to finish up the pre-show prep.

Thursday morning, we get together with Joel, view any clips that came in overnight on Wednesday and punch up the script. (Joel is very key here. He thinks very much like a writer and has become incredibly proficient at knowing his own voice. He’s really great in the room which is not something that can be said for all hosts.) Then we take a break from each other while the network and legal notes trickle in. We adjust the script to accommodate those and around 6:00, we head down to a green room in the bowels of E!, where Joel rehearses off the teleprompter and we lightly punch it up one more time. At 8:00 we head to the stage and shoot the show. It takes about 2 hours. Sometimes stuff doesn’t go as planned and we huddle up and come up with a new way to go and keep moving. When we’re done we go home and repair our marriages, or just drink.

Friday we get together for a couple of hours. We talk about the previous show and how well we pulled it off. Make adjustments for the next week and then lightly go over the week to come and start cooking up ideas. Then we flip each other off and go our separate ways. Not really. Friday night the show airs and usually over the weekend we wind up e-mailing or calling each other to talk about how things played again. We have a pretty close staff and we’ve been together for a long time (3+ years without anyone leaving), so we must either really like each other or no one else will talk to us.

This is the longest answer you’re getting out of me. If I have to go in to this much detail again, I quit.

How do you get the clips you use? Do you have to license them? Are they free since they’ve already been on TV? Does clip availability affect what bits and jokes you end up doing?

We get the clips an abundance of ways. We have a staff of 15 people who all have DVR’s and watch them relentlessly. We also have a new computer program that allows us to program in shows and watch them directly on our PC’s.   It’s cool, but it’s top secret. We might be part of a government experiment like thalodomide and not know it. We also pull stuff off the web sometimes.

There are a bunch of “Fair Use” laws surrounding how we air them. It’s complicated and if I tried to explain it, I’d screw it up. Sorry.

Yes, I suppose clip availability affects the bits and jokes we wind up doing in that of a clip isn’t available, we tend to not do a joke about it. (Did that come off a-hole-ish? It’s who I am. You asked…)

Imagine someone wants to sell and produce their own clip show like The Soup. What are the creative elements that make a clip show unique and sellable? I.e.—does it need a host attached? Just a writer/producer with a strong vision? A list of sample jokes? A sizzle reel? What should every good clip show have, or do, in order to make it different… and attractive to buyers?

Now why would I tell anyone that? You got the production schedule for free. The rest will cost you.

Actually, there are a lot of clip shows out there. I’d take the question beyond what sells a clip show and if you want to sell something think about what makes any pitch sing. Every network is different in their perceived needs, so you want to tailor your product to fit the customer. All of the things you asked about above are basically important elements at some level to someone. Tough question to answer. Might be a good time to mention I didn’t create or sell The Soup. I came on to run it in the second season after the “What The? Awards.” And a few (I don’t recall how many. More than 3, less than 20) episodes of The Soup.

And the follow-up question… what should a clip show never do? What creative elements are inappropriate in a clip show and would make it unsellable?

Sucking is bad. Sucking and being overly expensive. Comedy shows need time to build an audience. If you burden yourself with too much overhead it lessens the amount of time a network can tolerate your crappy ratings. The audiences become very loyal if you can hook them, so just try to stay on the air while you’re working out the kinks and growing your base.

Once our hypothetical producer has developed her clip show creatively, what’s the best way to go about selling it? Should she partner with a producer or production company? Should she go right to a network? And how does she know what are the best place to pitch her clip show?

I don’t mean to be a jerk, really, this is an honest answer to a common question. If you have to ask, you aren’t ready to be in charge. Networks buy from either people they’ve already worked with or people they are trying to steal from other networks. It takes no experience to come up with a good idea for a show, but it takes an awful lot to run one and the networks have very short lists of people they will allow to run shows.   (Until The Soup I was not one of those people.   I got very lucky to meet with network and studio heads who were willing to give me a chance.) Find yourself one of those people and then go to the network. And don’t ask. You used up all your good will with me with that first question.

To figure out where to pitch it, look at what type of programming in which an individual network engages and then either add them or cross them off the list. If you have a show that you think could work at both Spike and Lifetime, odds are you aren’t thinking it through. And don’t pitch where it’s not wanted. Not even “just for practice”. You may one day have an idea you want to bring back to that place and they will remember how you wasted their time. (And no, they won’t remember the good pitch they almost bought.)

As a writer and producer on what is definitely TV’s best and funniest clip show, what rules or tips have you picked up in production that you’d pass along to a freshman producer? If someone came to you saying, “KP, I’m about to start production on my first-ever clip show, what should I keep in mind, practically speaking, as I dive into production,” what are the 3 most important tips or rules you would give them?

1.    Make sure a hypothetical person buys you a drink before you start answering her questions.

2.    Be malleable. Listen when your buyers talk. You might know funny better than they do, but they know their audience or at least their company’s perception of their audience better than you. Don’t be unfunny just to get along, but be willing to scrap something over which you can’t agree and go a different way that is still funny.

3.    Talent speaks. If it doesn’t feel right coming out of your host’s voice, change it. No matter how brilliant you think it was. The host has to feel good about the whole show. One sentence is not worth throwing off his or her groove.

4.    (Because I was a jerk again with the first one) Don’t hire people who you like but really don’t think can contribute to the show. Hire people you like whose contributions you think will make your show better than you could do on your own. If you can’t find those people, you are over-estimating yourself and your idea. It’s a clip show. It’s already a collaboration.

For all the aspiring writers out there who would love to write on The Soup, how do you hire your writers? What kinds of samples do you look to read? What do you look for in those samples? And once you like someone’s writing and meet with them in person, what qualities do you look for that aren’t on the page?

I’d say write samples that make you laugh and sound like the host of the show could and would be excited to tell them. That’s a little ethereal, but if you look at your written material and think about great comedic hosts, you’ll be able to identify who would and wouldn’t deliver them best. Oh, and don’t send in the bible. Send the best stuff you have for that show. If you can’t edit yourself then someone would have to edit you and that someone is busy and would like to see his four year-old daughter before she’s five.

As to what I look for in a prospective hire off the page, I’m not really one to size up the cut of anyone’s jib. Funny is funny and talent is usually a bit weird, so pesky things like hygiene and hustle can really get in the way of good hiring decisions. I just plug my nose and hope they show up on the day I invited them to swing by.

And lastly… it’s very hard—if not impossible—for a total newbie to just create a TV show idea and set it up with a network or production company. I always tell aspirants the best way to sell a show is to get a job in television (usually at the bottom as a P.A. or assistant) and work your way up the ladder until you have enough experience and connections to sell a show. So if someone wants to create and sell clip shows like The Soup, what’s the best way to break in? Or, to a total newbie who wants to be in your shoes, what career-path advice would you offer someone who wants to steal your job?

So you tell people the same thing I told you. Great. Could have mentioned that four questions ago and saved me from looking like an a-hole…anyway…like I said, I didn’t create or sell The Soup, so there’s that.

Also, I’d encourage you not to try to follow my path. Not because it’s bad, it’s great, but that’s my life. My life might suck to you. I’m only being a little flippant. As writers and producers, we aren’t exactly deep-sea fisherman, but our careers are more like lifestyle choices than most people. So in order to stay in the game without burning out, you have to make sure you feel rewarded and challenged by your career in a very deep sense. We work long hours and take it very personally when our products don’t work.    When we aren’t working (and even when we are), we have to smile and network and create on our own and it occupies a much bigger portion of our time than the people with whom we went to high school who now have goofy things like trophies for softball and parents who still talk to them.   So you have to love your career like it’s your hobby. Your career will define you to a great deal, just make sure to get over yourself long enough to have someone to thank if you ever get a non-softball related trophy.

Having said that, here’s the basics as I see it. Seek out projects you love. Find your way out of projects you don’t without burning bridges. (Here we are not in my footsteps any longer.) Write every day. Don’t be afraid to turn in. Take criticism. Be reliable. Seek to learn without being annoying. (In other words, shut up and listen once in a while.) Work at a level above the job you have (eventually someone will notice and give you that job). Get over yourself. Have respect for other people around you. Don’t undermine people. Everything in this business is collaborative and if you get a reputation for backstabbing or undermining, all cliché’s about this town aside, you are done…or working on Tyra.   (Why would I say that?)

There you go, hypothetical producer. I hope I answered all of your questions. It would complete my bucket list.

-- KP

Thanks a million, K.P. And for the rest of you, here are some clips of The Soup for your viewing pleasure...

THE HILLS RETURNS

VAJAPOCALPYSE

RAINBOW BRITE: THE MOVIE

READER QUESTION: Film School vs. the Real World

Chad — Fri, 21 Mar 2008 02:50:56 GMT

Hey, screenwriters--

Today’s question comes from Eric, a college student who’s considering going to film school. Eric writes…

“Around last December, I applied to a number of film schools that offered an MFA degree in screenwriting. The degree itself was not the selling point of these schools but rather the time to write and connections a student will make through classes. Having no connection to Los Angeles or the television industry, I figured that programs like this offered the training and personal contacts necessary to become a television writer. Advice from this blog and other websites have since forced me to reconsider my choices. March is the time when MFA programs start sending their acceptances and rejections. And even though I decided to forego graduate school, I still have some second thoughts.

“Basically, if one of these schools accepts me, I am wondering what the best use of my time and money would be. Will the two years (and considerable amount of tuition) actually help me in my path to be staffed as a writer or is it more reasonable to start at the bottom and learn from experience as soon as possible? Of course, I am always working on spec scripts and will continue to do so whether I'm working as a student, PA, or otherwise.”

First, Eric, let me say this… this is a question near and dear to my heart, because I went to grad school and had this very same internal debate many years ago. In fact, I’ve been through grad school, and sometimes I still have this same internal debate.

So before I continue, I have to say this: I can't give you an answer to this, because there’s no black and white, no right or wrong. Only you can answer this.

I can, however, offer you some advice and insight, which you can use to chew on, digest, and come up with your own decision. So here’s my long-winded two cents worth, my yin-and-yang of it all…

I went to grad school-- UCLA’s MFA Playwriting Program. I had been debating between applying to the Playwriting Program or the Screenwriting Program (you could only apply to one), and I chose Playwriting because the playwrights were allowed to take screenwriting classes… but the screenwriters weren’t allowed to take playwriting classes. Which, to this day, strikes me as ridiculous and inane, but whatever.

I do not regret… at all… going to grad school.

Grad school gave me a two-year bubble in which I did nothing but focus on my writing, becoming a better, stronger writer and artist. Any chance you have to do that is invaluable.

Grad school also gave me a two-year bubble in which I could get acclimated to the city. Which doesn’t sound that important, but it is, especially when you’re coming from out of town (which I was and you are). L.A. is a city, a culture, and an industry unlike any others, and it’s nearly impossible to dive right into it and understand how everything works. It takes time to figure out how to navigate this place, both geographically and emotionally… traffic patterns, business practices, what the people are like… all of it.

Many places won’t even hire you as a P.A. or an assistant until you’ve been living in L.A. for a while… they need to know they can say to you, “Hey, Eric—I need you to run a couple errands. I need you to pick up two boxes of pencils, some nails, a box of t-shirts, and six cappuccinos… and I need you back here in twenty minutes,” that you can race out the door and know exactly how to get all that done without needing to check the Internet, Mapquest it, whatever.

So grad school gives you the time to learn all that.

What grad school did NOT give me… and I will say this loud and clear, because I THINK THIS IS A TRAGIC, DISGRACEFUL FLAW OF MOST ACADEMIC PROGRAMS, BOTH UNDERGRAD AND GRAD (and I hope some college administrator somewhere reads this)… but what grad school did NOT give me was any sense of how the business of entertainment works.

I not only learned very little about the business structures and processes of the industry, I learned virtually nothing about how to navigate that world… how to get a job, how to keep a job, how to network, who to network with, who the important players are.

And at the end of the day, the entertainment industry is a business and you can’t survive or excel unless you understand how that business works.

So while there’s certainly an argument that some of that info can’t be learned, or properly internalized, until you’re actually in the real world… I think any grad school program that wants to send its students into the world to make an actual living has a responsibility to teach them those things. And they don’t.

I also don’t think you’ll find—among your fellow students and teachers—the networks, connections, and relationships that will help you get a job as soon as you enter the real world. You’ll make some amazing friends and allies, to be sure… and they’ll serve you many times over your career (I’ve produced two TV shows with friends I met in grad school)… but they’re not the relationships that will help you get that first job. (How could they be? When you’re starting out, you and your friends are all at the same low level…)

Having said all of that…

Grad school gave me one thing that I never could’ve found anywhere else, and it completely and utterly changed my life.

In my final year of the program, I applied to UCLA’s Graduate Mentor Program, which was a program for graduating grad students where UCLA would match you up with working professionals (it's since been disbanded). I applied, feeling sure I’d get some podunk playwright, living in Van Nuys, begging me to slip his script to the UCLA playwriting faculty.

Instead, I got a man named Warren Littlefield, who was—at the time—President of NBC Entertainment. Warren had been President of NBC for virtually all of the ‘90’s; while he was there, he developed and put on the air shows like Seinfeld, Friends, Will & Grace, E.R., Frasier. Years earlier, as he’d worked his way up the ladder, he worked on The Cosby Show, Family Ties, Law & Order, Cheers, etc.

To put it simply, he was the crown jewel of the mentor program… and as time would tell, by far and away the best mentor I could’ve asked for.

After reading some of my plays, Warren asked if I had ever considered television writing. I hadn’t (UCLA had no TV writing classes), so Warren got me scripts and videos and helped me write my first spec scripts (Dawson’s Creek and Buffy). He then hooked me up with a man named Geoff Harris, who ran NBC’s Story Department, and Geoff helped me get my first agent.

Shortly after I graduated, Warren left NBC and started the Littlefield Company, a television production company in partnership with NBC Studios. He hired me as the assistant to his VP of Talent, and I worked there for a year and a half. When our NBC deal expired in 2001, I left the company and bounced around for a for a couple years. In 2003, I returned to Littlefield—which now had a Paramount deal—and spent the next two and a half years there as an exec.

To this day, I still have projects with Warren and talk to everyone at the company—which is now at ABC Studios—almost daily. Warren continues to be an amazing mentor and friend… and I wouldn’t have met him if I hadn’t had UCLA.

So that relationship is easily the most valuable thing I got from grad school.

Having said that… there’s no guarantee you’ll meet your Warren. You might. But you might also meet him (or her) working at an agency… or a studio… or on a film set. There’s just no telling.

So ultimately, Eric, I can’t give you a solid answer to this question.

I think it boils down to how you learn best and what you need out of life right now.

OPTION #1: If you feel like you need time to simply focus on your writing, strengthen your literary muscles, and become the best artist you possibly can… go to grad school. Think of it as an academic and artistic gymnasium, and for two years, you’ll do nothing but work out.

BUT…

OPTION #2: If you feel like you’re already a strong writer, and you’re ready to begin learning the business and practical side of the industry, skip it and try to get a job. This obviously doesn’t mean you won’t still be writing your ass off—doing screenplays, specs, pilots, etc.—but I will say this: you will not have loads of time to focus on your writing, and L.A. is an easy city to get distracted in. It’s very tough to balance a job and devote any real time to your writing… it takes an immense amount of discipline and self-sacrifice (but hey—that’s what being a writer’s about).

Only you know which is the right choice for you at this point in time. And the truth is-- neither path is more right than another. Neither is a more direct route to being a professional writer than other. It simply comes down to how you feel you'll grow best... professionally, artistically, personally.

So I hope this was helpful and you can glean something useful from it. In the mean time, good luck… lemme know what you decide… and don’t be afraid to email with more questions….

Chad

READER QUESTION: How Do I Launch a New Sketch Character?

Chad — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 14:58:26 GMT

Hey, screenwriters--

Sorry I've been awol for a few days. The site has gone through a technical revamp, but now it's back on it's feet!

Today’s question comes from Max, a Writers Digest subscriber interested in sketch comedy. Max writes…

“We have come up with a tremendously funny comedy sketch character and we are having a little bit of trouble getting it off the ground to be represented or published by an agent or publishing house. We know your contributors are all experts in this field and would appreciate any suggestions, step by step on the process we need to pursue. We are not concerned about the possible upfront costs.”

Congratulations on creating a great character, Max! Brilliant sketch comedy is a difficult art, and as anyone from Saturday Night Live or The Human Giant will tell you, creating a character who truly pops and resonates with audiences is a Herculean task. So kudos… you’ve passed the first step. Which doesn’t mean, unfortunately, that getting your character out there is any easier…

First of all, sketch characters are not “represented” or “published.” I’m not entirely sure what you mean when you say you want to get your character represented and published, but I’ll address those two terms directly.

As for “publishing” your character, sketch characters are usually performed live as part of a sketch comedy show (a la Molly Shannon’s “Mary Katherine Gallagher” from SNL or Matt Sloan & Aaron Yonda’s Chad Vader from Channel 101 and YouTube fame), so it’s virtually impossible to “publish” a character. Sure, some sketch characters have appeared in books, like The Ninja Handbook: This Book Looks Forward to Killing You Soon, based on Douglas Sarine and Kent Nichols’ Ask a Ninja internet sketches, but they’re only produced as ancillary products for an already successful sketch or character. So “publishing” your sketch character probably isn’t a viable option.

As for getting your character “represented,” this too is a bit unconventional and confusing. Agents, managers, publicist, or lawyers don’t usually represent sketch characters; they represent the performers or producers who produce those characters. In other words, let’s say you’ve created a character called “Wally Funnyman,” who you’ve spent months refining and perfecting until he is as hilarious and brilliant as he can possibly be. You want agents to come see the show in hopes of taking Wally to the next stage, whether that’s turning him into a feature film or a Robot Chicken sketch. The truth is: no agent is going to come to see Wally. They’re coming to see you… to evaluate you as a performer, writer, producer, creator. They’ll then try to get you work—as a performer, stand-up, actor, writer (whatever your goal is)—using Wally as a sample of your talent. For instance, perhaps the agent lands you an audition at Saturday Night Live… and you use Wally as an audition piece. SNL may hire you as a regular performer and/or writer and turn Wally into an official sketch… or they may never have any desire to use him at all. The point is: it’s very hard to place a lot of value in just one character himself; the true value lies in your skill as a writer, performer, or producer… and your character is simply an example of that.

Having said all this—and having absolutely no clue as to what your character is—there are instances where someone has created a character, or a concept, that takes off… like Ask a Ninja. But Sarine and Nichols didn’t create the ninja, then find an agent, then put the sketches online. They created the sketches first, posting them online on their own, and only when the “show” went viral and became wildly successful did agents come calling. Then Sarine and Nichols were able to get their ninja onto other platforms like Comedy Central’s The Showbiz Show and Discovery’s Mythbusters. Now Ask a Ninja has become its own successful mini-business with books, DVD’s, and live appearances.

So the short, brutal answer to the question of finding representation for or publishing your sketch character is: you don’t. Or, rather, that’s the wrong question. The real question is: how do you get this character in front of as many people as you possibly can?

Fortunately, today’s sketch creators have the Internet at their fingertips, and if there’s one genre of entertainment that’s exploding online, it’s sketch comedy. In fact, there may have never been as perfect a time for aspiring sketch artists… the Internet is full of them, from Barats & Bereta and Rhett & Link to Obama Girl and Honor Student.

So if your character is filmable, Max, the best thing you can do is shoot some great-quality sketches and get them online… everywhere you can. Don’t limit yourself to YouTube; get your work on FunnyorDie, Bebo, Vimeo, MySpace, Revver, Facebook, anywhere you can.

The other wonderful thing about the Internet is you’ll know fairly quickly how good your work truly is. You can solicit feedback from viewers to learn what’s working, what’s not, what’s hilarious, what’s dull. You can then go back, rewrite, reshoot, and try again. With each video, your character and your comedy will get better. Eventually, as your work gets stronger and your online audience builds (and it will build… when people find something they like, they bookmark it, Digg it, and pass it along… which is exactly how things go viral), agents, producers, studios, or publishing houses will come calling. You can also facilitate that by reaching out to buyers, although most won’t be interested until your work has a sizable online audience.

If your sketch characters is not film-able, then you need to get him/her on stage as much as possible. Go up in comedy clubs. Join sketch groups. Perform live on the street. Do whatever you need to build a fan base that says to agents, producers, and buyers: “this character has value; it’s already commercial.”

Anyway, Max, I hope this helps. The good news is: you’ve already created an outstanding character. And the even better news is: you couldn’t have done it at a better time, because—as I said—the Internet is giving sketch comedy artists like yourself an infinite number of new opportunities.

Good luck… and if you—or anyone else—has further questions, please don’t hesitate to post them in the comments section below or email me at WDScriptNotes@FWPUbs.com.

In the mean time, here are examples of some of sketch comedy available on today's Internet…

CHASING DONOVAN: "Creative Writing," by Honor Student

"The Mysterious Ticking Noise," from The Potter Puppet Pals

"Will Arnett-Human Giant Sex Tape," from The Human Giant

READER QUESTION: How Do I Track Down Celebrities for Articles or Projects I'm Working On?

Chad — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 07:03:13 GMT

Hey, everyone--

Today's question comes from Cherie, who actually emailed Writers Digest editor Brian Klems over at his Questions & Quandries blog. Cherie asks...

"In doing research for articles I'm working on, I would like to contact a number of celebrities in
different fields of work, including music, theater and art. Is there a specific source you know
of that lists agents or contacts for celebrities?"

There are several places that can help you dig up this info, Cherie. I'd start with Who Represents (www.whorepresents.com) a subscription-service that maintains a massive, and usually up-to-date, database of contact info for everyone from actors and rock stars to writers and directors. They often include agents, managers, publicists, and lawyers. IMDB has a similar service called IMDB Pro.

If that doesn't work, try the main Hollywood unions...

The Writers Guild of America (www.wga.org)
The Directors Guild of America (www.dga.org)
The Screen Actors Guild of America (www.sag.org)

Each of these websites has services to help you track down members (SAG's is called iActor-- the others are easy to find).

If this doesn't work, I usually get scrappy, which isn't hard on the internet. Try Googling for the name of your celebrity, along with keywords like "agent," "agency," "repped," or "tenpercentery." For example, just as a test-- I just Googled "Laura Linney" and "repped." Thousands of hits came up, and I noticed one of them said "Linney, repped by ICM..." so I clicked on it. It's pretty old-- from August, 2001-- but it does have a story about Linney appearing in The Life of David Gale, and-- sure enough-- it says she's repped at ICM. Still, this article is almost seven years old, so I'd like to double check that. So I Googled for "Laura Linney" and "ICM." This time, I got a Deadline Hollywood Daily article claiming Linney is still at ICM... and this is from July, 2007. Much better. Next step: call ICM, ask for Laura Linney's "point agent," and tell the assistant you're looking for Laura Linney's publicist. If she doesn't have a publicist, you can usually explain to the assistant what you're looking for and he/she will point you in the right direction.

If some creative Google searches don't help, I often resort to simply calling the five big agencies: ICM, UTA, CAA, Endeavor, or William Morris. This usually only works if your celebrity is big enough that you're fairly certain they'll be at one of the five giants. Mega-stars like Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg, for instance, are certainly repped by one of the biggies (they're both at CAA); smaller acts, like the awesome Summer Glau, may not be (she's at Paul Kohner). So while you certainly don't want to call every agency in New York or Hollywood, it's sometimes worth it to simply call the Big Five.

The receptionist will answer, and tell him/her you're looking for "Client Info," the department which will give you your subject's point person... or whether or not they're even a client.

Also-- clients switch agencies a lot, so even places that should be up to date, like the unions, may have old info. Sometimes, Client Info can give you their new agency; other times, you're back at square one.

If calling agencies doesn't work, then you have to get really scrappy. I usually track down someplace I know the celebrity has worked before. Maybe you're trying to track down a book author... look up his/her most recent publisher, give them a call, explain what you're looking for, and a receptionist can usually put you in touch with an editor's assistant who will direct you to the author's publicist. The same can work for tracking down musicians through music labels. Or writers, directors, or actors through production companies, networks, or studios. It's often a long, twisty path of phone conversations, but it often works.

If you're tracking an actor, you can also try going through a casting director. For example, let's say I wanted to track down Joey Ansah. "Who?!" you ask, because Joey Ansah is clearly not a household name you could find simply by calling the Big Five agencies. Joey Ansah played Desh, the assassin killed by Jason Bourne in the greatest-fight-to-the-death-scene ever from last year's ridiculously incredible The Bourne Ultimatum. So I'd go to IMDB and look up Joey Ansah, where even in the little pictures he looks deadly and makes me glad that Matt Damon killed him. His most recent film seems to have been Underground, some obscure (maybe British) martial arts film. Because that's a weird little film, I'm guessing it won't be easy to get in touch with people who worked on it. But just before he did Underground, Joey Ansah did Bourne, so I click on that. Over to the left, I click on "full cast and crew." I search for the casting team, who were Daniel Hubbard, John Hubbard, and Avy Kaufman. Next, I head to The Casting Society of America (www.castingsociety.com), which allows you to track down casting directors. I click "Find a CD," and enter Daniel Hubbard's name. Nothing comes up. So I enter Avy Kaufman's name, and his contact info pops right up.

I give Avy a call, explain who I'm looking for, and they're able to point me to Joey Ansah's agent.

(All of this is assuming, of course, that you don't come across as some kind of stalker. People are very protective of other people's info, especially celebrities'. So many are hesitant to give it out to anyone other than other industry people [i.e., if I was looking to hire Joey Ansah for a project] or-- occasionally-- legit journalists.)

There may be other websites, similar to Who Represents, that are just as helpful in tracking down celebrities in other mediums. I tend to use the ones discussed here because they're the best for movies and TV, but music and theater may have similar sites. If you know of any, I'd love to hear about them... feel free to shoot me an email at WDScriptNotes@FWpubs.com, or post them in the comments section below so other people can use them.

In the mean time, I hope this was helpful, Cherie... good luck!... keep reading!... and I'll talk to you soon...

Chad

READER QUESTION: How many ideas should I present in a pitch?

Chad — Sun, 09 Mar 2008 22:09:41 GMT

Hey, screenwriters—

Today’s question comes from Anita, who also happened to take one of my writing classes a few weeks ago. Anita emails...

“My partner and I have been developing several [television show] ideas, and have more ideas we are fleshing out. We have been taking meetings here and there with some friends and contacts and are on our way... I wanted to know your opinion on pitching and pitch meetings. Would you say it's best to go in with your strongest idea and if asked, get into the others? Or how many would be best to go in to a pitch meeting with?”

Lots of people ask this, Anita... and I usually recommend people go in with two ideas; I think the one-two punch works really well. On rare occasions, I might have a third in my back pocket… but even when I do, I don’t go in expecting to use it.

I would never attempt to pitch more than three ideas. Even if I had four brilliant ideas, and the first three pitches went tremendously, I would rather leave the “audience” (producers or execs) wanting more. And even if they’re asking, I think people tend to hit "information-overload" after three pitches. So if I’d exhausted three and they were still clamoring for more, I’d probably say, “Know what?... I have a couple ideas I’m still working on, but they’re not quite ready. I’d love to come in back in once they’re fully baked and see what you think.”

This way, you A) get another meeting and more face time, B) get to pitch again when the buyers are fresh and not already thinking about your first ideas, and C) start an actual relationship that can be nurtured and grown (which is really what it’s all about, anyway… very rarely do execs or producers acquire projects from people they’re just meeting for the first time).

Having said all this, I still don’t usually like to pitch more than two ideas. Two outstanding ideas are stronger, and more memorable, than two outstanding ideas AND one almost-outstanding idea. And even if neither idea sells (which they probably won’t—and I say that not to be a pessimist, but because statistically speaking, most ideas don’t get bought), you leave the meeting being remembered as someone who has only outstanding ideas… even if those ideas weren’t appropriate to buy.

Which brings me to the real purpose of a pitch meeting…

Sure, we all want to sell something. But the cold hard truth is: most pitches don’t sell.

And that's not a comment on anyone's ideas. You could have the best idea ever… let’s say you have a brilliant concept for a sitcom about a family of aliens (which, I admit, is probably NOT a billiant concept, but let’s just PRETEND it’s brilliant)… and it still may not sell. It’s easy to think you flubbed the pitch or execs hated the idea. But what you may not know—what you couldn’t know—is that they already have three family sitcoms in development and they’re only looking for urban cop dramas. Or maybe they developed a show about aliens last year, it didn’t sell, and they don’t want to go down that path again. Maybe they’re looking for a show to pair with another sitcom, and while they love your alien idea, it’s just not a right fit for their current needs.

The point is: there are a million factors determining whether or not your show sells, and you can only know a handful of those factors.

Secondly, TV shows are rarely bought on pitch from total strangers, or even acquaintances, even when they’re brilliant ideas. Execs usually buy ideas only from established producers and/or people they’ve already worked with. But this doesn’t mean they’re not constantly looking for creative new talents, which—again—brings me to the real purpose of a pitch meetings…

The true purpose of a pitch meeting is not to sell an idea, but to impress your audience with your creativity, talent, and passion enough to BEGIN A RELATIONSHIP with them.

I never go into a pitch expecting to sell something. I go in hoping to form a connection with the buyer, impress them with my thoughts, and continue a dialogue… a dialogue that continually lets me know what they need and lets them know what I’m working on. So as we continue talking after the meeting, we eventually, hopefully, find something to work on together.

Anyway, Anita, I guess the short, straightforward answer to your original question is:

Go in with your two best ideas.

And having said that, only pitch the second idea if conversation allows it to come up organically. Maybe you finish Pitch #1 and the exec says, “So, what else are you working on?” Or, “Do you have anything else?” In which case: pitch away.

Or maybe your second idea is a game show that takes place entirely outside. And maybe, during the course of the meeting, the exec starts talking about how he or she went hiking this weekend. You could use that to segueway into, “I love hiking… anything outdoors. Hiking, fishing, hunting." And the exec says, "Yeah, me, too-- I try to get out to the mountains or the beach at least twice a week." And you say: "We’ve actually been working on a game show that takes place entirely outside.” And the exec says, “No way—that’s crazy. How does it work?” At which point, you could talk about that idea.

The whole point is this: if you tweak your mindset to realize you’re not going pitching shows you want to sell, you're pitching yourself as the most innovative, visionary, and skilled producer out there-- and your show ideas are simply proof of that-- you’ll can probably tell which of your ideas are most appropriate to actually present. If one of them sells—GREAT! If not, you’ve accomplished something just as valuable… started a relationship with an exec who likes you... a relationship that will hopefully pay off creatively and financially down the road.

I hope that helps, Anita! To everyone else, thanks for all your questions. Reader questions are my favorite part of doing this blog, and I have many more that I’ll get to over the coming days.

If you have a question, feel free to email it to WDScriptnotes@FWpubs.com, or just post it in the comments box below!

Hope all's well, and I'll talk to you soon!

Chad

READER QUESTION: Are there any good TV-writing contests?

Chad — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 17:00:10 GMT

Hey, guys-- happy President's Day... I'm not quite sure how we're supposed to celebrate, but hey-- day off, can't complain. Especially because I'm sitting at home, nursing a mild hangover from being at the Magic Castle all night. And I don't care what anyone says: the Magic Castle is the COOLEST PLACE ON EARTH. Saying that, of course, may make me a complete dork, but I don't care-- it's true (the Castle part, not the dork part, which is also probably true). And anyone who denies it hasn't been there or is lying.

ANYWAY... after Friday's post about the Scriptapalooza screenwriting contest, I received a couple emails asking if there were any good TV writing contests, so I thought I'd take a minute to give you my thoughts on that.

First of all, are there TV writing contests? Yes.

Are there any good TV writing contests? That depends on your definition of good.

If your definition of a "good" TV writing contest is a contest that rewards its winner with bragging rights, maybe some cash, and hopefully a chance to get their work read or seen by agents, execs, showrunners, etc.-- then YES: there is a tiny handful of TV writing contests (which we'll get to in a second).

If your definition of a "good" TV writing contest is a contest that rewards its winner by landing them a staff job or getting their pilot made at a network or studio, then NO: there are no good TV writing contests. And here's why...

Movies (and, therefore, movie scripts) are finite pieces of work. A movie lasts two hours, it's over, done. The story will never continue, go on, or repeat itself. (Sure, there are sequels, but most movies aren't written with a sequel already in mind... sequels are created as follow-ups to a proven successful property.) Most movies, by design, are intended to be close-ended experiences. This makes it very easy for producers, studios, or production companies to buy a script from a writer, say "thank you very much," and dispose of the writer. And I'm not saying "dispose of the writer" as a judgement call-- like when we all hear screenwriters complain about how they're treated like crap by the studios (which is often true, but a separate issue). I'm simply saying that once a screenwriter has finished a movie script, his work is done. The script does not go on. (This is one of the reasons we say film is a director-driven medium; while the story begins with the writer, it's really the director who brings it to life and puts his creative stamp on the movie. The director has much more control over the film's vision than the writer.)

But this doesn't happen in television. Television shows make mini-movies every week, so they need their writers to stick around. When one script is finished, another must be written. Immediately. Thus, TV is a writer-driven medium... it's the writer or showrunner's vision which drives the show every week. This affects TV in two big ways...

1) It's why TV shows have staffs. One writer couldn't write twenty-two scripts back to back and have them be very good. (I know we read about Aaron Sorkin and David Kelley doing it, but they were clearly subjects in some bizarre genetic experiment that gave them amazing literary superpowers.) (I'm kidding. To be fair, no one knows how those guys do it. Centuries from now, archaeologists will look back and wonder who made Stonehenge, who erected Easter Island, and how the fuck Aaron Sorkin and David Kelley wrote so many scripts.) So writing staffs sit in a room together, for 8-15 hours a day, and write their episodes as a group.

2) It's why studios and networks rarely (and I mean rarely) buy shows and pilots from inexperienced TV writers. Designing a TV show-- and running it successfully-- often takes years of experience, so buyers tend to buy projects only from writers who have proven they can be sucessful TV writers and producers.

And neither of these two points is very conducive to winning a contest.

Winning a contest might get your script in front of people who could help you get a job-- showrunners, execs, agents, etc.-- but getting hired on a TV staff is about much more than just writing a good script. Being a TV writer is 50% writing talent and 50% personality (and, in the cases of some writers, more like 10%-90%). Thus, most showrunners hire people they already know: writers they've worked with, their own writers assitant, etc. And when they do hire a stranger, they definitely meet with that person-- at least once-- and usually try to recommendations from other people who have worked with them.

And winning a contest definitely won't get your pilot picked up or produced as a series. (Of course, never say "definitely," because now that I've said it, it'll happen... but for the most part, I stand by my "definitely"). In fact, the very notion of winning a contest is antithetical to what it takes to develop and run a series. To be totally honest, if you see a contest purporting to give winners their own pilot or TV show: run-- it's probably not legit. Any contest claiming it can give winners their own TV show clearly doesn't have a firm understanding how TV shows are bought and sold.

HAVING SAID ALL THIS... should you still apply to TV-writing contests?

Sure, why not? What they will give you is...

• Something cool to put on your writing resume
• A possible open door to execs, agents, and showrunners
• Hopefully, a bit of cash
• Maybe some constructive feedback
• A giant warm fuzzy
• Experience writing
• Experience getting rejected (which is going to happen to you way more than getting accepted, no matter what level you're at. Even David Kelley and Aaron Sorkin's shows get canceled.)

So, here's a short list of TV writing contests that are-- at the very list-- legit. There may be more that I'm missing... if they are, please let me-- and everyone else-- know about them in the comments section below.

As for these, I know nothing about the talent pool that applies to them or how successful they are at getting winners through important doors, but they at least aren't criminal fronts:

• Writers Digest Screenplay and TV Writing Contest
• Austin Film Festival Screenplay & Teleplay Competition
• Scriptapalooza International TV Writing Competition
• Larry Brody's Spec Scriptacular at TVWriter.com

READER QUESTION: Is "Boston Legal" Spec-able?

Chad — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 07:56:47 GMT

So... I got an interesting question yesterday in regards to my post about about this season's spec-able shows. Loyal reader Fig writes in:

"Why is it that I've never heard of anyone writing a "Boston Legal" spec? (Or is it just me?)"

It's funny, Fig-- when I read your question, my first response was, "Oh, yeah-- Boston Legal-- that must be a spec-able show!" But of all the people I asked... agents, execs, writers... not one of them mentioned Boston Legal. Which is weird, I know, because it's still a pretty popular show, and it seems-- in theory-- that a quirky, standalone show like that should be highly spec-able.

But it's not... or, at least, it's not considered a "hot spec."

And here, I think, is why...

Reason #1) It's old. It's going into its fifth season this year, and most shows have lost their sexy new-kid-on-the-block status by then. And while you probably never want to spec a super-new show like, say, Eli Stone, or Aliens in America, you also don't want to spec something that feels like yesterday's news. And while I never really saw a glut of Boston Legal specs, there was definitely a time-- a few years ago-- when I saw many more than I do now. Which brings me to...

Reason #2) For whatever reason-- and maybe this is just my own perception-- Boston Legal has never really felt "cool." Maybe because it was a spinoff of The Practice, which had been around forever, but Boston Legal just never felt like a fresh, new, groundbreaking show... which isn't necessarily fair, because it's very different than The Practice... and it's really good... but still-- it lives in that world, those characters were born on The Practice, and The Practice first premiered eleven years ago. This isn't to knock Boston Legal... I think it's so much better than many people give it credit for... I'm just saying that it has never felt like the show all the kids are watching.

Having said all that-- if your heart is pounding to write a Boston Legal, my advice is: write a Boston Legal!

While one of the first rules of spec-writing is to write a hot spec that execs, agents, and showrunners are dying to read, the real first rule of spec-writing... or of writing anything... is to write what you're most passionate about. Nothing will show off your true voice better than something your pour your heart into... whether it's this year's hot 30 Rock spec or a radio play about your mother. In other words, brilliant St. Elsewhere spec will get you farther than a mediocre Dexter.

Of course, having said all this, it doesn't mean you should just damn the rules, write whatever you want, and expect to get staffed. The rules are there for a reason... every year, there are certain specs people like to read, and certain specs they don't. And the specs people like to read tend to get read first, plain and simple. So the best case scenario for you, as a writer, is to find a story you're deeply passionate about and implant it into one of the hot specs. Could your Boston Legal story work as a Dexter? How about a Mad Men? Maybe even a CSI (which is older than Boston Legal but still, somehow, manages to have a higher "cool factor")?

If you can't adapt your story... if you're burning to tell a specific, heartfelt, personal tale that won't work as a Dexter or The Office... then by all means-- tell that story in whatever form it needs to be told, whether it's a spec of L.A. Law, an epic poem, or a stage play in iambic pentameter. Your goal is to rock your reader to his core... and if Boston Legal's the only way to do that, Boston Legal it is.

READER QUESTION: How Do I Show My Character Is Avoiding Profanity?

Chad — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 03:48:19 GMT

Hey, screenwriters--

Today's question comes from loyal reader Justin, a screenwriter who writes:

"Hi, Chad--

I wonder how you would indicate that a character was holding back from using foul language - if his mother was in the room or something. Is it clear enough to say, for example:

                            ARNOLD
                         (Holds back from swearing)
                   What the f---?

Or is there perhaps a more elegant way to do it?

Best regards

Justin"

Well, Justin, I'm gonna make this short and sweet: yes. I think what you've written is a fine way of showing a character holding back from swearing.

On one condition.

That the character, and not the writer, is the one refusing to swear.

In other words... I sometimes get screenplays in which the writer is clearly avoiding profanity (and I'm gonna be honest-- I see it a lot in the annual Writers Digest screenwriting competition). Which is fine-- I'm all for clean entertainment-- as long as it's appropriate to the style, tone, and world of the story.

In other words... I sometimes see writers ducking profanity in scenes or stories where it would otherwise be appropriate: a battle scene, a frat house, a gangster shootout, two teenagers hanging out, a couple having hot sex. But profanity, used correctly, is not only often appropriate in certain scenes... it's necessary to make the audience believe they're real. It's a simple fact of life: people swear. Soldiers, frat guys, gangsters, lovers in the throes of passion, teenagers out of earshot of adults... and, of course, ordinary people going through their days.

In fact, avoiding profanity where it's appropriate can undercut the power of your storytelling.

Take these swatches of dialogue from different characters and situations:

A BATTLE SCENE

EXT. BATTLEFIELD

The battle rages. Bombs explode. Gunfire crackles. Sirens blare. Tony struggles to pull Gregor to his feet.

                            TONY
                   You are not fucking dying today!
                   Do you hear me?! Get the fuck up!

                            GREGOR
                   My leg... I can't feel my fucking
                   leg...

TWO TEENAGE GUYS

INT. CAR

SHANE downs the Beam and hands the bottle to ERIC.

                            SHANE
                   What a bitch. Don't take that
                   shit from her.

                            ERIC
                   Easy for you to say.

                            SHANE
                   Dude. If my mom pulled that shit with
                   me I'd crack her across the skull.
                   Wham. Just like that.


A LOVE SCENE

INT. BEDROOM

Smokey looks at Shondra, splayed out acorss the bed.

                            SMOKEY
                   I've... uh... I've never really done
                   this before.

                            SHONDRA
                   What? Fucked a hooker?

                            SMOKEY
                   Could you... not use that word?

                            SHONDRA
                   Well, it's what I am, baby. A
                   hooker. We fuck.

In each of these snippets-- two men struggling to survive a war, two teens venting about their parents, and a man visiting his first prostitute-- profanity not only seems appropriate, it's almost necessary to illustrate the reality of the situation. Look at the edited versions...

A BATTLE SCENE - TAKE TWO

EXT. BATTLEFIELD

The battle rages. Bombs explode. Gunfire crackles. Sirens blare. Tony struggles to pull Gregor to his feet.

                            TONY
                   You are not fricking dying today!
                   Do you hear me?! Get up now!

                            GREGOR
                   My leg... I can't feel my stupid
                   leg...

The meaning of the lines themselves haven't changed, but the softness of the language works against the urgent life-and-death stakes of the scene. People about to be blown to pieces aren't concerned about watching their mouths... their language is as extreme as the situation they're trying to survive.

TWO TEENAGE GUYS - TAKE TWO

INT. CAR

SHANE, 16, downs the Beam and hands the bottle to ERIC, 14.

                            SHANE
                   What a loser. Don't take that
                   garbage from her.

                            ERIC
                   Easy for you to say.

                            SHANE
                   Dude. If my mom was that mean
                   I'd crack her across the skull.
                   Wham. Just like that.

Again-- the sentiments of the lines haven't changed, but removing the adult language betrays what these kids are doing-- trying to behave like adults: drinking, venting about relationships, and-- perhaps most importantly-- speaking and expressing themselves like adults.

A LOVE SCENE - TAKE TWO

INT. BEDROOM

Smokey looks at Shondra, splayed out acorss the bed.

                            SMOKEY
                   I've... uh... I've never really done
                   this before.

                            SHONDRA
                   What? Had sex with a hooker?

                            SMOKEY
                   Could you... not use that word?

                            SHONDRA
                   Well, it's what I am, baby. A
                   hooker. We have sex.

Again, the meanings of the lines remain the same, but the first draft's profanity reflects the raw seediness of the situation. Remove the profanity, the whole scene suddenly seems sterilized and unrealistic.

The point is: people swear. And your job, as an artist, is to reflect the world as you see it as accurately as possible. Which doesn't mean you can't see a cleaner, profanity-free world... as long as it's an honest reflection of the world you see. But to compromise your vision... to sanitize the world in order to avoid profanity on principle... is usually a recipe for weak writing.

Anyway, Justin-- I realize this was a long-winded answer to a question you may not have asked, so thanks for bearing with me.

But like I said, I occasionally see this... and while no producer or executive is ever looking for profanity, the obvious avoidance of it is an immediate turn-off, because it means the writer isn't being true to his or her own vision.

So next time you're tempted to hit the delete key over whatever four-letter word has slipped out... trust me: leave that shit in. It will, most likely, make your writing stronger.