so, like, what's the timetable here anyhow?
5.3 miles. I almost didn't go out, because it was rainy and overcast. But finally I said, Hey, it's not raining that much, I'll put on a sweatshirt. And when I got out there, I discovered (of course) that it was barely misting and I was way overdressed for the occasion.
Perhaps I'll conquer this weather-wimpness stuff after all.
I did something today I haven't done for quite a while: took a nap. I lay down and knew no more for 3 hours. I don't know what brought this on--I've been sleeping a regular schedule lately, and I slept 8 hours last night. Weird.
The reason I'm not thrilled about taking naps is that they don't refresh me. The refreshing nap is right up there with the energizing exercise as an animal I've never seen. I have no idea what people are talking about when they talk about these experiences. So I smile and nod, as I usually do when I think someone's making something up.
I smile and nod a lot, actually.
From Counterpunch, in the LA Times, on Monday (reprinted without permission):
Pamela Douglas of the USC School of Cinema-TV has good intentions, but she suggests in her article that aspiring screenwriters who are persistent will eventually succeed ("Postgraduate Work: First Get Real," Calendar, Feb. 8). She continues to perpetuate the myth that reading books, attending lectures and learning basic script format, style and craft will get you a deal. In reality, what gets taught is everything you need to know--except how movie and television deals are actually made. The entertainment industry consists of insiders who have no incentive to work with outsiders. Not unlike a long-distance calling clan, it's for family and friends only.
There's an entire twilight zone of people out there who think they can get into show business by sheer will and determination. They can't.
"There are thousands of people walking around with scripts under their arms," says Mark Green, an entertainment attorney and executive producer of "America's Dumbest Criminals."
"Unfortunately, without the right contacts, without a deal, a script is a commodity of little value."
I put in my two years at USC in a professional writing program. Dealt with traffic snarls and a lack of available parking. Took late afternoon and evening classes so that the rest of the day was open for some semblance of a normal job. Course offerings ranged from drop-dead dull to fascinating. Some classes were quite demanding and school could be stressful. But who cares when the entertainment industry is dangled in front of you like a wonderful carrot that's just a few freeway exits away?
When I got my degree I had something great to put on a resume--except no one in town takes resumes. Here's what happened after I graduated:
Everyone needs an agent, right? I got some names and addresses from one of many books on the subject. I wrote query letters and got some positive responses. My first meeting was with an agent and another writer she already represented who, according to the agent, was "extremely successful." When the agent had to leave the room for a minute, the "extremely successful" writer asked me if I knew of any job openings.
"Writing jobs?" I inquired.
"Any kind of job," was the response.
Agent No. 2 was a legitimate agent all right--a real estate agent. She claimed that having been married to an actor gave her "inside knowledge."
Agent No. 3 was an out-of-state literary agent who had started a "screenplay division." His advice? Adjust your margins. He gingerly admitted that none of the scripts he pitched had gotten purchased but boasted that studio readers had frequently complimented him on the neatness of his submissions.
Agent 4 worked for a successful agency all right, except for one detail. When she told me she would soon be leaving to start her own agency, she forgot to mention that she was a receptionist. She eventually got fired and wound up at another agency--as a receptionist.
Agent 5? Quite by coincidence, I obtained the direct telephone number of one of the founding partners at a high-profile talent agency. I made the call and got his executive secretary.
"I admire your courage," she said, "but he's not here." I asked if she was instructed to say that to everyone who calls and she laughed. "I shouldn't say this but I'm going to save you some time," she said. "No reputable talent agency looks at unsolicited scripts. It just doesn't work like that. The only way we'll take a look at you is if someone we already represent is willing to vouch for you." I thanked her and couldn't help wondering why we never heard that in any lecture.
Agent No. 6 was a successful, working agent with a West Hollywood office and Sunset Boulevard address.
"Film is too difficult to break into," he said. "They just don't need anybody. What you should be writing are spec sitcom scripts."
So I cranked one out; he said it was hilarious. Then he asked for a second, which I dutifully delivered. He liked that one too, but his partner, whom I'd never met nor spoken with, didn't think it was as good as the first. Can I do two more spec scripts, he asked. "How many spec scripts am I supposed to do before I can expect something resembling a paycheck?" I asked.
"It's hard to say," he said, "but often writers do 10 or 12 before they get a paying assignment."
That sounded suspicious and by now I was pretty much burned out on agents. I came to the conclusion that working in the industry is by invitation only.
So if you're going into the business--and I'm still trying--don't make the dumb mistakes I made. Ask tough questions, and don't hesitate to walk away.
"Most projects," Green says, "the screenplay doesn't even exist until a deal is made. That's why everyone is focused on packaging complete deals with existing clients: actors, directors and writers. By using proven elements, a project has the best possible chance of returning a profit on investment. That's where the green light comes from."
Does this mean that some of those folks walking around Hollywood with screenplays could have the next "Godfather," "Star Wars," "Titanic" or even "The Wedding Singer" tucked under their arms?
"It's a distinct possibility," says Green. "The industry is far from perfect. But it works."
James Brachman Holds a Master's Degree in Professional Writing From Usc. He has had Two Plays Produced in Los Angeles
I'd be really interested in hearing your immediate reactions to this piece--How many of you thought that this guy has the right attitude? How many of you said, Yes, yes, this is the way things are?
Well, if you said that, you're wrong.
This guy is a loser. And I'm so glad he published it in the Times, so that people who may otherwise have considered working with him can be forewarned.
The main problem is that he thinks the world owes him a living. And since he hasn't gotten it post-haste, then it doesn't exist.
What the professional writing program is, I have pas de clue, but clearly this guy never talked to one person or cracked one book on the subject of screenwriting, or he would have learned a few key things:
- The entertainment industry consists of insiders who have no incentive to work with outsiders
False. I know plenty of people whose last names aren't Zanuck, Spielberg, or Hanks--and come to think of it, weren't Spielberg and Hanks once nobodies?--who've managed to make it into the Industry in the past few years. The industry has big incentives to work with new people: they tend to be quite a bit cheaper than people who've already made it. And new people tend to be more enthusiastic and less jaded.However, no one is going to invest $1m.--let alone $100m.--in someone who hasn't proven him- or herself. You have to prove that you can write or that you can direct or that you can do whatever it is that you are passing yourself off as qualified to do.
- Without the right contacts, without a deal, a script is a commodity of little value
I'm more than a little suspicious of the guy who said this. Of course, he produces a show entitled "America's Dumbest Criminals," which probably doesn't invest a whole bunch in scripts or writers.Here are some of the things a script is good for, other than being a blueprint of a specific movie:
- A writing sample--Can this person write? Can they create a character? Move a plot along? Give the characters snappy dialogue?
- A writing sample for a particular genre. You're caught in the rut of only doing sitcoms and you want to do one-hour dramas? Write a couple of one-hour specs. Andrew Marlowe, writer of Air Force One, was stereotyped as a coming-of-age-story writer until he did some spec action scripts.
Terry Rossio, on the Wordplay site (which again I cannot recommend highly enough), has a good point: write a good script that people want, and you will have all the contacts you need immediately.
- Except no one in town takes resumes
Not for writing jobs, no. What does a resume tell you about someone's writing ability? Your spec scripts are your resume--here's what I've done, see if I have what it takes. "3 screewriting classes at USC" tells no one anything about your writing ability. I know people who graduated from the Master's program still unable to write, 'kay? - What you should be writing are spec sitcom scripts
What you should be writing is what you enjoy writing. Sitting down and cranking out a couple of sitcom scripts is great...if you want to write for sitcoms. Doing it because someone told you to makes about as much sense as majoring in computer science because people have told you that's where the jobs are: if you don't enjoy it, you're going to hate every moment...and you aren't going to like it any better if you get a job doing it. - How many spec scripts am I supposed to do before I can expect something resembling a paycheck?
Hey, as many as it takes, okay? There's no guarantee of anything in this town--that's why they're called spec scripts, okay? As in, speculative?I love the assumption inherent in this phrase: I've done a, b, and c--gimme mine. Hey, maybe if you wrote better, the Industry would, you know?
Who knows...maybe I'll regret saying all of this in a few years when I'm full of bitterness at not having managed to get in and "get mine." At having been thisclose too many times.
But I hope I'll reread this and think, Nope.
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Send comments and questions to diane@spies.com