I’m going to cover a few that I have seen, (or even experienced myself).

A Creative Career Is (Not) A Job

A creative career is like a job. You have got to go to work. You have to earn money. You will have to please the person who is willing to pay you that money.

A creative career is often also unlike any ‘normal’ job. In many cases you work from home. It seems you don’t have to go to work. This brings challenges to people who struggle with discipline and face procrastination at home.

Once you accept that this new creative career is in many ways very much like an ordinary job, it is time to understand exactly what type of business we are talking.

A Creative Career Is Not An NFP Business

Not everyone considers it normal that you get paid when you have fun doing what you do.

The reason? Before you choose to make your hobby your job, you have a not-for-profit relationship with it. You are absolutely fine with the fact that you don’t get paid. It may actually cost you money.

In order to be successful, this relationship must change, and this is easier said than done.

In fact, acquiring the right mindset may well be the hardest objective to achieve in your quest to establish a career that is both creatively and financially rewarding.

People who succeed, don’t see a problem in sending an invoice for their services. They also don’t see a problem with paying for services in the creative sector. Every successful writer I know, has at some stage paid for writing-related services. This can be writing classes, software packages, editing services etc.

You Have Been Misinformed

The stories you hear about the creative career you want, are filtered.

In the real world of ‘normal jobs’, you get accurate information. In our precious entertainment industry, you rarely do.

So many people aspire to become a pro screenwriter after hearing stories about 7-figure deals. What they don’t realise is that for each deal of this kind, there are a thousand that bring in peanuts – or that simply don’t happen at all.

When a screenwriter sells a script, you hear about it. When a pool company wins a new client, no-one cares (even though the pool money may be a lot more). This sort of misinformation leads to the expectation that you will start earning a lot more quickly than is realistic. This, in turn, will lead to frustration and the belief that you are failing.

You are not failing at all. You were just not realistic in your expectations.

You Focus Too Much On The Outcome

Many self-improvement programs teach you goal-setting. They encourage you to have clear goals with milestones. And work towards those, relentlessly. This is certainly a valid approach and many have made it work for themselves.

I have not.

In my own experience, this can cause more frustration than anything else.

Why?

Because in the context of our creative career, often we set the wrong goals. We aim to finish a script by Christmas. To win a contest and sell a script next year. We’ll be financially independent in two years’ time.

Out of those four goals, only one is realistic. Do you know which one?

It’s the one about finishing a script. Do you know why? Because the others are out of your hands.

No easier way to frustration than to set goals you need others to achieve them.

Instead, set your goal to write X number of pages per day. To email Y number of producers/agents every week. Now, you are accountable. And you can be proud to achieve those goals.

Once those achievable goals are set, do the work, and don’t fret about the results. In fact, I believe the more you focus on the outcome, the smaller the chance you will achieve it.

You need to focus on doing the work, on a daily basis. Continue with it.

End don’t beat yourself up over the lack of results.

They will come.

You Doubt Your Creative Talent

We are all born with a thousand times more creativity than we realise. Sadly, our modern upbringing efficiently erases this. We are told that we don’t need it. In our everyday life, all we need is a rational mind, right? (Wrong.)

As a result, most people simply forget about their immense power of creation and imagination.

So we need to reconnect with this. Without it, the only outcome can be derivative drab.

Get in touch with your creativity and imagination. Meanwhile, keep confident.

Above all: keep working.

(There are heaps of techniques to unlock your hidden creativity. I boost my energy, ideas and creativity by practising Vipassana Meditation.)

You’re In It Because You Love (Watching) Movies

We can all wax lyrical about our favourite movies, and how they inspired us to pursue a creative career.

Make no mistake; watching movies is not a job. Unless you want to be a movie critic. And they don’t get paid any longer, because just too many are willing to do this for free.

The more people aspire to a particular job, the harder it will get to make a living in it, and the lower the entry level payment. Just look at the exploitation of musicians these days.

In order to build a successful creative career, you need to shift your passion from the finished movies to the making of them.

Can you be just as passionate about writing, planning, producing, problem solving, people management, and all other aspects of a creative career in the movies?

You Don’t Get What The Job Is About

Writers rarely write what they want, once they get paid.

You are free to write and be creative on your own terms – as long as you’re doing it for free. The moment someone starts handing over money, you will write what THEY want, using the style THEY want to read.

This is the paradox of the Writer’s Dream: the moment you have achieved what you think you want, the dream is really over.

Not only will you have to write to a brief; you will also have to deliver to a deadline.

The stress you experienced while fretting over the state of your bank account, now suddenly doubles.

Perhaps there are other aspects of this creative career you’re chasing that you don’t know about.

You know what? It’s never too late to learn.

You Don’t Spend The Time To Learn

So many want to become directors, producers and screenwriters. But they don’t want to go through the long learning process it takes to achieve excellence. They find it tedious.

Or they tell themselves that it cannot be learned. “Either you have it, or you don’t”. Now there’s a really easy way to fail even before you have started.

Learning is critical, in whatever you do. Rest assured that while you’re reinventing the wheel, thousands are getting ahead of you by learning the essential skills.

Successful, happy writers find it exhilarating to explore how movies work, how stories are built.

If you don’t, perhaps this is not for you.

It’s never too late to quit.

Or …

You Quit Too Early

I once heard that it takes seven years to make any business profitable. You are a business, too.

When things are not as much fun as expected, people get out. The fighters sit it out.

A creative business is not necessarily more fun than any other, as you may find out…

If you are in it mainly for the results (a movie in the theaters, a house in the hills), it’s going to be a very long wait for your kinda fun.

So this is where we can tell apart the quitters and the fighters.

Read Seth Godin’s book ‘The Dip‘.

Ask yourself, are you a quitter … or a fighter?

-Karel Segers

P.S.: Failing is cool.

Karel FG Segers

Karel Segers wrote his first produced screenplay at age 17. Today he is a story analyst with experience in acquisition, development and production. He has trained students worldwide, and worked with half a dozen Academy Award nominees. Karel speaks more European languages than he has fingers on his left hand, which he is still trying to find a use for in his hometown of Sydney, Australia. The languages, not the fingers.

Subscribe to our YouTube Channel!

So here I am about to approach three years in L.A. (June 10 to be exact) and I feel the need to share my journey once again despite completely falling off the radar for well over a year with this confronting piece of my Hollywood sojourn.

As I look back, it’s been an up and down rollercoaster ride full of trials, tribulations, emotion and adventure. But then what else was it ever going to be. While I have disappeared for months at a time (across social media, email and more), I am still alive, I’m still kicking, and I’m still flying the flag as best I can.

 To be honest, that’s not always been easy. In fact, it’s been bloody hard at times.

 There have been days where I have wanted to be anywhere else but this city. I’ve not left the country, let alone this state, in the three years I have been here, and if you know me you know how much I love travel. So it feels like I have been going stir crazy. 

 But I found some solace as I discovered but then subsequently lost a relationship – my first here in the U.S and my first in over three years. And while I look back on that year we had with mixed emotions, I can only smile and say thank you to one very special woman who took her own serious leap of faith, and embraced me and my journey and in the process turned me into an even greater version of myself than I could have ever imagined. I am forever changed as a result. 

 But she wasn’t the only woman I had to say goodbye to that year.

 I lost a grandmother and step sister all within six months of each other last year but I didn’t go back. I was super close to my gran and she used to take great delight in reading these articles. I miss her, and writing postcards from abroad just isn’t the same.

I left Australian shores knowing I may never ever see her alive again. But it was with her gentle words of encouragement that I was able to make peace with that cold, hard reality.

 When she died last Mother’s Day, not only did I cry as the news filtered through, but I also had a beautiful vision of her that morning. She appeared before me and whispered: “Keep writing.” It was a profoundly affecting vision.

While all this disquietude, chaos, and loss was going on around me, somehow the only thing keeping me sane was my writing. And thank fuck! Because I am not sure where I would have been without it.

 I found myself sinking into a slow depression-like state during July yet I kept writing. My relationship was breaking down all around me but still I wrote. My grandmother passed, I wrote. My step-sister slowly had her life taken away after battling a brain tumor for years, more writing.

In the space of that one year, while my entire world was collapsing around me (even now I can shed some tears if I allow myself to reflect), my writing was my saviour. I wrote more than I ever have, I became more professional than I’ve ever been, and I churned out four feature scripts over the course of that year. One of which I pitched and which subsequently beat out over 40 other submissions vying for the gig.

 After my relationship broke down I also found myself in the position of moving out of the only apartment I had ever known during my entire time here. I stepped up as a man and offered my ex-girlfriend the space. A space that no longer felt like home. A space that allowed her a better chance to survive in this town than me.

I then found myself in North Hollywood, and while that sounds glamourous, it really isn’t. There are two very distinct parts to North Hollywood. The cooler, funkier ‘Arts District’ and what is unaffectionately called, “the ghetto”. Somehow I went from the clean, green, central beauty of Studio City, to a dirty, dry backwater Mexican suburb (nothing against Mexico).

From a private, spacious, comfortable apartment for myself and my girlfriend, to a smaller, cramped two bedroom place with two other guys – one of which slept on a couch in the lounge room.

 At times I have felt embarrassed by my living situation but this town can be brutal and sometimes you are forced to go backwards to move forwards. But when you are freelance copywriter and the Australian dollar drops (and hard), you are forced to make some serious changes.

 I hated going to bed alone. I didn’t like where I now found myself. I was miserable.

While I never ever lived above my means, I had to go where I could afford. It made me withdraw even further and made me truly understand the definition of humble, but what was more important, to look myself in the mirror and ask some very genuine, honest questions of myself.

 But it has all served to only strengthen my resolve and succeed where many others would have failed, fled or simply given up.

 My year turned and I met and fell into the most amazing, supportive writing group I have found during my time here, after I was fortunate enough to be accepted into a new writing program I applied for.

 It was the first time I felt ‘home’ among like-minded people. A writing group that despite my repeated searches and hopes, I had never ever found in the two years prior.

 And now this group of people I can call friends. How I have craved that. As I retracted from the outside world, I found my friendship base here shrink. In part due to changing dynamics as others disappeared, while a couple of others put their head down to become more professional themselves but also because I was seeking something deeper from myself, my writing… my heart.

It’s a writing group that’s made up of some talented and successful people where I have seen their valuable input and feedback further enhance, improve and rocket my writing skyward. A group of only seven other people who I get enormous pleasure from in so many ways. I cannot thank them enough.

Somehow I overcame a very tough, emotional year and became not only a greater writer for it but a kinder, more sincere, more authentic and honest me.

It’ll be three years in June since I first made the leap, and it’ll be three years I will celebrate in my own quiet, genuine way as I look back. I’m thankful for how far I’ve come, for what I have achieved, for where I now find the level of my writing, but most important of all, where I now find myself as a man.

So raise a glass and cheer on a man who continues to stare down this town. A man who is not afraid of a single thing. A man who will not make up the numbers. A man who will succeed. Because I have faced hardship, loss, death and yet I continue to smile and write.

Here’s to an even greater year of writing, greater success, greater wealth, and so much more as I continue to pursue dreams, my passion, and love.

– Mark Rasmussen

Mark Rasmussen

Mark Rasmussen has been a professional writer for over 15 years. He has written and produced three short films (two of which have IMDb credits), as well completed four features. One of his films ranked inside the Top 10 for the World Wildlife Fund competition (WWF). He is currently working on three feature scripts, two book adaptations, a TV pilot, and a web-series, as he increases his thirst for great writing and storytelling.

If your project is high concept, then that ONE sentence description should not only make us easily understand the story and make it clear what the demographic is and why it’s unique and original, but also make us picture the trailer, the poster, and the actor who would want to be cast.

If it’s a comedy, then your one line (and quite frankly even your title) should make it OBVIOUS that there are a ton of original, funny things that could happen. If you’re writing a thriller – it needs to be clear that the potential for great suspense and thrills is there. Horror, same thing.

Can your project do that? Don’t answer just yet.

…you will understand and picture exactly what that movie is.

High concept properties are more about the premise and idea than the characters and their personal struggles. More about visuals and hooks than deep narratives and emotions. But almost any movie can be described in one or two sentences – that’s not enough. The hook – what makes your concept original and different – also has to be really clear. And high concept properties should be appropriate for mass audiences (at LEAST 2 out of the 4 quadrants – male, female, young, old).

Technically, the film Kids can be described in one sentence – a group of inner city youths do drugs and have sex until they realize their actions can have horrific consequences. But what’s NEW about that? What’s high concept about it? What’s the mass appeal? Nada.

Ninety percent (90%) of writers fail because their concept just isn’t strong enough, original enough, or commercial enough. They are doomed from the start.

If your project is so intricate, so complex, so cerebral that no one will get it (and get it quickly) – then it’s not high concept. This doesn’t mean it’s not commercial – Inception was NOT high concept. But MOST studio films are. Why? Because they have to be able to be marketed well, and low concept material is much harder to market. There are very few studios who actually market low concept well. Fox Searchlight is probably the best in the business (Slumdog Millionaire, Black Swan, Little Miss Sunshine, etc). But most studios just don’t get it.

And neither do audiences. Audiences, by and large, are stupid and have no attention span. High concept material is pitch-driven. But if your pitch starts with “so the troubled protagonist had this horrible childhood and goes on this journey to find himself…blah blah blah” – it’s NOT high concept!

High concept pitches do not start with character and back story – they start with premise and action. If it takes 10 minutes to explain your story…that’s 9 minutes and 45 seconds too long. But if you can describe your story by simply saying “big shiny thing here now BOOM” – people will get it.

Ninety percent (90%) of writers fail because their concept just isn’t strong enough.

Comedies (especially R-rated and romantic comedies), action films, some horror, disaster movies, etc – these are the projects that are most often high concept. It’s harder to make dramas, teen movies, fantasy, and more intricate thrillers into high concept projects.

The very first purposefully high concept movies are often considered to be Jaws and Star Wars. Though the ultimate example of high concept is actually movies like Snakes on a Plane – you get everything you need to know in 4 words. Other great examples of high concept projects include Jurassic Park, Liar Liar, Groundhog Day, Armageddon, Wedding Crasher, Transformers, Air Force One, Speed, 40 Year-Old Virgin, Titanic, Home Alone, War of the Worlds, etc.

Great examples of low concept fare – Pulp Fiction, Sideways, Little Miss Sunshine, Fargo, Citizen Kane, Syriana, Garden State, almost anything by Robert Altman or Woody Allen, etc. You can see the difference in just the titles.

This doesn’t mean that your high concept project can’t tackle more in-depth issues or have an interesting story with lots of characters and plotlines. It just means that the hook to your script has to be so clear and original and understandable in one line that audiences will get what they are in for.

Studios largely work within the world of high concept. So if you want to be a studio writer, spend more time coming up with the best concept and premise with the most potential and commercial appeal instead of worrying if your character’s personal journey has a new plot point introduced on page 38. I hope that clears up what high concept material encompasses. Good luck and keep writing!

– Danny Manus

Danny Manus is one of the most in-demand script consultants as CEO of No BullScript Consulting and author of “No B.S. for Screenwriters: Advice from the Executive Perspective.”

Danny is also a producer, a columnist for ScriptMag, a judge four years running for the PAGE Awards, and teaches seminars and workshops across the country. You can follow him on Twitter @DannyManus.

Jamie Campbell

Jamie Campbell is an author, screenwriter, and television addict.

Jamie is proud to be an Editor for The Story Department.

Her latest series Project Integrate is out now.

jamiecampbell.com.au

by K.M. Weiland

The antagonist is usually a physical entity, something standing in the way of our protagonists’ ability to achieve their physical goals and perhaps even threatening our protagonists’ lives or their physical well-being.

Consequently, it can be easy to forget that antagonists are just as important in driving your character’s personal arc as they are the plot’s conflict.

The Two Halves of Story: Outer and Inner

Every story is made up of two integral halves:
1. The protagonist’s pursuit of his outer goal, which is the physical aspect of the story (i.e., the stuff we see happening).
2. The protagonist’s pursuit (willing or not) of his inner goal, which is the emotional and spiritual aspect of the story (i.e., the stuff happening on an intangible plane).

Some stories will emphasize one of these halves over the other, but the best stories balance them.

How the Antagonist Drives the Plot

On the external or physical plane, your antagonist is an obviously essential player. He’s the obstacle that creates conflict. Your character makes a move; your antagonist makes a countermove. Bing bang boom.

That one’s a no-brainer. Even if your antagonist is non-human, it will be a force opposing your protagonist and forcing him to keep coming up with new ways to overcome the problems that lie between him and the ultimate conquest of his story goal.

It can be easy to forget that antagonists are just as important in driving your character’s personal arc as they are the plot’s conflict.

How the Antagonist Drives the Character Arc

Equally important is the antagonist’s affect on your protagonist’s inner journey. This, however, is often something we overlook. When we construct our character’s arcs (if we consciously construct them), we’re too often inclined to create traumas and troubles that have no direct connection to the antagonist.

Maybe George is trying to get a job in the circus and is opposed by the circus owner’s son, who happens to be courting the girl George is in love with. Sounds like a decent plot with a plausibly motivated antagonist. But if we’ve decided that George’s character arc is about proving his worth to his apathetic father (and thereby to himself), then we’ve created a character arc that has no direct relationship to the antagonist. Sure, the circus owner’s son will probably prod George along in his discovery of his self-worth, but that’s only tangentially affecting the character arc.

Two Ways the Antagonist Ties Together Plot and Character Arc

The best way to create an antagonist who is just as organic to the character’s inner arc as he is to the outer conflict is to do it on purpose, right from the start. Before you ever begin writing, take a moment to consider your story’s outer conflict and your character’s inner conflict. Does one grow from the other? If not, how can you craft the one to better reflect the other?

In George’s case, we might want to consider either switching out the antagonist to better inform his character arc, or changing the character arc to better reflect the antagonist’s mode of attack.

Equally important is the antagonist’s affect on your protagonist’s inner journey.

Choosing an Antagonist Integral to the Character Arc

If we’re sold on keeping the character arc as is, we might find a better catalyst for inspiring George to find his own self-worth by forcing him to do direct battle with the father he’s trying to impress. Maybe his father is the owner of the circus and is the one bent on keeping George out of the family business, because he doesn’t believe good ol’ George is up to the challenge.

Choosing a Character Arc Born of the Antagonist’s Attack

If, however, we decide we like the outer conflict with the circus-owner’s-son-slash-rival-lover better than we do George’s current character arc, we might get rid of the judgmental father altogether and focus instead on a weakness that is directly challenged by the circus owner’s son. Perhaps George’s new arc is still about self-worth, but now that self-worth centers on his belief that he’s not worthy of the girl he loves.

Sometimes we can employ more than one antagonist to create different forces of opposition (e.g., the dad drives the inner arc, while the circus owner’s son drives the outer conflict). But consolidating the power of your main antagonist into a catalyst for both halves of your story is a powerful way to bring cohesion to both plot and theme.

-K.M. Weiland

K.M. Weiland is the author of the historical western A Man Called Outlaw and the medieval epic Behold the Dawn.

She enjoys mentoring other authors through her writing tips, her book Outlining Your Novel: Map Your Way to Success, and her instructional CD Conquering Writer’s Block and Summoning Inspiration.

Jamie Campbell

Jamie Campbell is an author, screenwriter, and television addict.

Jamie is proud to be an Editor for The Story Department.

Her latest series Project Integrate is out now.

jamiecampbell.com.au

by Danny Manus

A screenwriter is walking down the street and falls into a deep hole and can’t get out.

A Director comes by and the screenwriter yells, “Hey, I’ve fallen into this hole and I can’t get out. Can you help me?”

The Director throws a camera down the hole and says, “I can’t get you out, but if you film your journey, I can make it into a movie.” And he moves on.

Then an Executive Producer comes by and the screenwriter yells, “Hey, I’ve fallen into this hole and I can’t get out. Can you help me?”

The Exec Producer takes out his wallet and throws a bunch of money down the hole and says “I can’t get you out, but if you figure out the way, I’ll pay for it.” And he moves on.

Finally, a fellow screenwriter passes by and the writer in the hole yells out, “Hey, I’ve fallen into this hole and I can’t get out. Can you help me?”

The second screenwriter immediately jumps down into the hole with him. The first writer turns to him and says, “Well that was stupid, now we’re both trapped in this hole.”

And the second screenwriter says, “Yeah, but I’ve been down in this hole before and I know the way out.”

Writers write themselves into holes all the time. But the sign of a truly great writer is being able to write yourself out of it. And let me tell you, more than 80% of writers – can’t.

Writers write themselves into holes all the time

Writing yourself into a hole usually happens if you haven’t planned, plotted, outlined or completed character exercises before starting to write. If you get stuck and you’re not sure what should come next, or after you’ve started rewriting and you (or someone else) find tons of plot holes and unanswered questions – you’ve written yourself into a hole.

And I’m guilty of this myself. On the conspiracy thriller script I was hired to write, I had a rough treatment going in, but the person who hired me and had written the treatment forgot one major part… the conspiracy. So, we knew where the story started and we knew where it ended and we knew a few of the major moments and action in the middle. But I started writing before I really nailed down how the conspiracy was going to come together or how everyone was exactly connected and what the pieces of evidence were that would ultimately expose said conspiracy… And guess what…I wrote myself into a hole.

I had killed a character that I realized could have been the key. I had created a conflict that caused a major plot hole before I had thought of a solution. And I didn’t know exactly how to pace the conspiracy so it would make sense but not reveal too much, too soon. And the hole began to get deeper.

So when you find that a question is unanswered or a plot hole has formed, instead of continuing on the same road hoping the hole disappears, here are some of the major things to think about and examine to go back and cement that hole and keep your story moving.

– Set Ups – I dare say that 60% of all plot holes and story issues exist because the writer has failed to set up something earlier on that would help explain it all. A set up doesn’t always have to be a big extravagant moment – it can be a quick line or quick shot of off-color comment, but that we will connect later on to what’s happening. If your character has to know how to climb a mountain in order to escape her situation in the climax and you’ve never set this up that she knows how – you’ve written yourself into a hole. But instead of going back and inserting many scenes of her climbing, you could just show us pictures of her doing this in the first act or show us mountain climbing ropes and gear in her car, etc. It’s all about set ups, but it doesn’t always means retooling your whole story.

I had killed a character that I realized could have been the key.

– Motivations – Look at why you’re characters are there, doing what they’re doing, and why (and if) it’s important to them, what they have to accomplish and why (what happens if they don’t accomplish it?). You may find that your hole has been created because your characters are doing something unnecessary or not set up as being important to them. If your characters are only doing something because YOU need them to in order for other things to make sense, then you may be writing yourself deeper into a hole.

– Locations – Look at where the action (and the hole) is taking place. Do your characters have to be here or is there an easier way? Is it a location that makes sense to the story and action taking place? If it feels like your characters are just pinging back and forth between different locations, is there a way to condense them so your story won’t feel confusing or scenes won’t seem unnecessary? But also, do your locations give you enough opportunities for action or scares or comedy and afford you the visuals you need to make your scenes work without forcing it? If not, you may want to think about changing your locations.

– Coincidences – If big moments in your script (more than 1 or 2) only occur because of coincidences taking place, then your plot is not strong enough and you will be writing yourself into a hole. If “coincidence” is the only explanation for your action, you’re not outlining enough. Go back and think of other ways or reasons why that “thing” could occur or bring your characters to where “it” occurs.
– Brainstorming – It’s all about thinking about different ways to obtain the same result. If your character has to get into a house without being heard, think of 5 ways for him to do so. Always give yourself options and see which one makes the most sense for your set ups, your characters and your purpose. Ask other people if you need to.

– Streamlining – Very often holes are created because you’re trying to do too much with your plot or action or you’re working too many characters into the plot because you think it will keep things interesting. Streamlining your story and only including plot points, subplots and characters that advance the important storylines and arcs of your protagonist will ensure that you don’t write yourself into unnecessary holes.

– Common Sense – When all else fails, follow an old adage that always holds true – KEEP IT SIMPLE, STUPID. If you find that your characters are trapped in a situation or have to do something and they don’t know how to, just use common sense. Think about what YOU would do to get out of that situation – then make it visual.

So many writers try to get all complex and intricate with their conspiracies or their action or even small innocuous things – like getting through a front door for example. But sometimes you don’t have to wire a tree to break a window to signal the dog to chase the cat to jump on a bookshelf to knock over a lamp to ignite a fire to burn the door down…Sometimes you can just turn the fucking doorknob and walk inside.

There are so many holes that writers can find themselves trapped in – don’t let it be one you’ve created for yourself. And if you do find yourself looking up from that position, don’t be afraid to ask others who have been there for help.

– Danny Manus

Danny Manus is one of the most in-demand script consultants as CEO of No BullScript Consulting and author of “No B.S. for Screenwriters: Advice from the Executive Perspective.”

Danny is also a producer, a columnist for ScriptMag, a judge four years running for the PAGE Awards, and teaches seminars and workshops across the country. You can follow him on Twitter @DannyManus.

Jamie Campbell

Jamie Campbell is an author, screenwriter, and television addict.

Jamie is proud to be an Editor for The Story Department.

Her latest series Project Integrate is out now.

jamiecampbell.com.au

by Steve Kaire

When you get the notes back, you are devastated. The comments you get are scathing. They inform you that your plot is weak, your characters aren’t developed fully enough, and your structure is lacking.

The first thing you need to remember is that your script is always a work in progress. And as painful as it may seem, many of the notes you will receive will really improve your material. More times than not, writers will send out their material prematurely even when they know in their heart of hearts that their script is not ready to be shown. They’ve written the script so many times that they’ll say to themselves that it has to be ready by now even though it really isn’t.

Many of the notes you will receive will really improve your material.

I had a writing friend who I would submit my work to for feedback. He would always be consistently negative about my material. I came to expect that he wouldn’t like whatever I gave him to look over no matter how well it was written. But despite his overall negativity, he would be right about one or two elements regarding my scripts. And fixing those specific things that needed improvement was worth it even though I had to listen to a lot of other overly critical comments.

The bottom line in receiving criticism is to try as best you can to separate yourself from your ego. Decide what suggestions about your material to accept and incorporate into your writing that will actually make it better. Also decide about what comments you get back that you honestly disagree with and just disregard them as being off base.

Most of all, understand that receiving criticism and rejection is a normal part of any creative endeavor whether it be writing, art or music.

– Steve Kaire

Steve Kaire is a Screenwriter/Pitchman who’s sold 8 projects to the major studios without representation. The last project he sold, he’s Co-Producing for Walden Media. A screenwriter for over 30 years, he holds a Masters in Dramatic Writing and has taught writing classes at the American Film Institute.

Steve was featured on the Tonight Show’s, “Pitching to America” and was voted a Star Speaker at Screenwriters Expo three years in a row. His top rated CD, “High Concept – How to Create, Pitch & Sell to Hollywood” is a best seller. You can find his website here.

Jamie Campbell

Jamie Campbell is an author, screenwriter, and television addict.

Jamie is proud to be an Editor for The Story Department.

Her latest series Project Integrate is out now.

jamiecampbell.com.au

by Steve Kaire

First of all, you should pitch what your story is about, not what happens in your story. Pitching what happens in your story is a recipe for disaster. It becomes an excruciatingly painful unfolding of scenes that lack a cohesive core.

When you pitch what your story is about, your focus is sharper. Only essential details are included. Your logline becomes concentrated and condensed. You do not summarize your story from beginning to end. I’ll repeat that for emphasis. You do not tell what happens in Acts 1, 2 and 3! You are giving the premise or set up of your material. That premise should be intriguing and compelling. Pitching a unique premise draws the listener in and prompts them to ask to read the entire script. That’s what High Concept is all about.

When you pitch what your story is about, your focus is sharper.

The best practice for pitching is to pitch any movie in 1 sentence. Every film ever made can be reduced to a 1 sentence logline. If you can pitch your material in just 1 sentence, you’re forced to include only essential information and nothing extraneous. Once you can pitch your script in 1 sentence, then you can later add a few more sentences for detail, color and texture. For more practice, choose 3 films you’ve seen recently and pitch each of them in just 1 sentence.

– Steve Kaire

Steve Kaire is a Screenwriter/Pitchman who’s sold 8 projects to the major studios without representation. The last project he sold, he’s Co-Producing for Walden Media. A screenwriter for over 30 years, he holds a Masters in Dramatic Writing and has taught writing classes at the American Film Institute.
Steve was featured on the Tonight Show’s, “Pitching to America” and was voted a Star Speaker at Screenwriters Expo three years in a row. His top rated CD, “High Concept – How to Create, Pitch & Sell to Hollywood” is a best seller. You can find his website here.

Jamie Campbell

Jamie Campbell is an author, screenwriter, and television addict.

Jamie is proud to be an Editor for The Story Department.

Her latest series Project Integrate is out now.

jamiecampbell.com.au

by Steve Kaire

The easiest genres to sell are in Tier 1. More difficult genres are included in Tier 2. And the most difficult genres are in Tier 3. Writers can improve the chances of selling their scripts if they choose Tier 1 genres. Examples of recent films are given in each genre. Some films fall into more than one genre category.

Tier 1 Genres:

1. ACTION – Action films are the easiest to sell because they are popular in foreign markets since they are not dialogue driven. Examples: “X-Men Origins: Wolverine,” “Terminator Salvation,” “Fast and the Furious 3,” “G.I. Joe,” “Quantum of Solace,” “Transformers,” “Live Free and Die Hard.”

2. ADVENTURE – “Land of the Lost,” “Up,” “Journey to the Center of the Earth,” “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull,” “Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian,” “Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End,” “National Treasure: Book of Secrets.”

3. THRILLER: Also known as suspense films. “Angels and Demons,” “Whiteout,” “Taking Of Pelham 1, 2, 3,” “Michael Clayton,” “88 Minutes,” “Disturbia.”

4. COMEDY & ROMANTIC COMEDY – “The Proposal,” “The Ghosts of Girlfriends Past,” “Confessions of a Shopaholic,” “He’s Just Not in To You,” “Yes Man,” “What Happens in Vegas,” “Forgetting Sarah Marshall.”

5. CRIME – “RocknRolla,” “In Bruges,” “The Bank Job,” “Ocean’s Thirteen,” “The Lookout,” “Flashpoint,” “American Gangster.”

Tier 2 Genres:

6. HORROR – “The Happening,” “Quarantine,” “Saw V,” “The Collector,” “Last House on the Left.”

7. FANTASY – “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince,” “Twilight,” “The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor,” “Hellboy II: The Golden Army,” “The Golden Compass.”

8. SCIENCE FICTION – “The Day the Earth Stood Still,” “The Incredible Hulk,” “Iron Man,” “Fantasy Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer,” “I am Legend,” “Spider-Man 3.”

Tier 3 Genres:

9. DRAMA – “21,” “Milk,” “Slumdog Millionaire,” “Atonement,” “There Will Be Blood,” “Curious Case of Benjamin Button,” “Sunshine Cleaning.”

10. MUSICALS – “ Fame,” “Mama Mia!,” “High School Musical 3: Senior Year,” “Cadillac Records.”

11. WESTERNS – “3:10 to Yuma,” “Appaloosa,” “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford.”

12. PERIOD – “Sense and Sensibility,” “Across the Universe,” “ Becoming Jane,” “The Patriot,” “Jane Eyre.”

– Steve Kaire

Steve Kaire is a Screenwriter/Pitchman who’s sold 8 projects to the major studios without representation. The last project he sold, he’s Co-Producing for Walden Media. A screenwriter for over 30 years, he holds a Masters in Dramatic Writing and has taught writing classes at the American Film Institute.

Steve was featured on the Tonight Show’s, “Pitching to America” and was voted a Star Speaker at Screenwriters Expo three years in a row. His top rated CD, “High Concept – How to Create, Pitch & Sell to Hollywood” is a best seller. You can find his website here.

Jamie Campbell

Jamie Campbell is an author, screenwriter, and television addict.

Jamie is proud to be an Editor for The Story Department.

Her latest series Project Integrate is out now.

jamiecampbell.com.au

by Danny Manus

This is the wrong way to enter contests.

I’ve been a judge for the Page Awards for three years and I’ve had numerous clients win or be finalists in major contests including Page Awards, Austin Film Fest, Scriptapalooza, the Disney/ABC Fellowship, LA Scriptfest, and (the now defunct) CS Expo. So, can I help? Sure. But can we totally fix your script 3 days before the deadline? No.

Especially with contests as big as Nicholls, Page and Big Break, where there are thousands of submissions, you need to take it seriously! And there are certain things you need to think about when entering any contests:

1. Prestige
2. Payoff
3. Readiness/Preparedness
4. Genre

Prestige means – enter those contests that actually mean something. Enter ones that have a great reputation, that get great media exposure, whose winners get into the trades, whose winners get HIRED and REP’D, whose finalists get optioned, ones that are nationally recognized and get more than 500 submissions. Do you know what it means to be a semifinalist in a contest that only has 500 submissions? NOTHING.

And enter ones that mean something in a query letter if you win. Enter ones where the judge of all the winners isn’t the ONE guy holding the contest. I’ve said it plenty of times, there are only about 10-15 contests that mean anything to Hollywood, including the ones mentioned above. Do your due diligence before shelling out $30, 40, 50, 60 bucks year after year.

Payoff means the prize is worth it. Now, this may be subjective. Maybe you really need that iPad, or really want that steak dinner and $500 bucks. If so, great. But if I was paying to enter a contest, the payoff better be ACCESS. Yes, a cash prize is awesome and makes you feel like you actually earned money doing what you love – and that’s a great feeling. But the key to a great contest is one that is either going to help you vastly improve your writing or get you access to people and players or meetings that can actually help your career and get you exposure.

There are thousands of submissions, you need to take it seriously!

Entering a contest just to get feedback from anonymous “readers” who are paid $20 bucks to write a paragraph about your script is just a stupid idea. You enter contests to WIN them. If you want feedback and notes, pay a consultant that you can have a 1-on-1 (and not anonymous) relationship with who can walk you through where your script needs improving. I’m not saying there aren’t contests that give great notes and that it’s not a nice bonus, but it shouldn’t be the reason you enter one.

The third step is Readiness and Preparedness. And this one has nothing to do with the contests – it’s all about YOU! I want to give you just a little glimpse into Nicholls. Last year there were 7,197 screenplays submitted (a new record). There were 368 quarterfinalists (about 5% of all submissions), then 129 semi-finalists (almost all of which got script requests), and then 10 finalists and 5 winners. So, just to get any notice by Hollywood, your script and writing has to be in the top 368 scripts out of over 7,000.

Do you REALLY think your first or second draft is going to be good enough to do that? Do you really think that a script that you RUSHED to rewrite in a week is going to fare well? Let me tell you – it won’t.

If your script isn’t truly ready to compete against THOUSANDS of others, then don’t submit it just because there’s a deadline. Wait until next year, or the next contest. Some contests do allow you to submit a new draft after the first round, but you still have to make it past that first round!
Rewriting is a process that, when done right, should take more than a week for most. Are there exceptions and writers who can totally rewrite a script in a week? Sure. But most of them are trained, professional writers who know the tricks to rewriting or at least have been doing this a while. If you’re a new writer, your rewrite period will probably last months. Most non-professional writers aren’t actually rewriting- they are doing what I call polite polishes. Some consultant told you the characters weren’t developed enough, so you stick 2 lines of backstory on page 21 and suddenly you think you’ve rewritten your script. You haven’t.

Rewriting is a process by which you re-examine everything and often eliminate or rework core parts of your script. Polishing is a process by which you just make the writing and characters and action shine a bit more. Polishing can be done in a week. Rewriting usually cannot be. And if you’re asking for notes from a consultant with 2 or 3 weeks to go before the deadline, that will only leave you a few DAYS to rewrite your script. This is what’s called – a bad strategy. You want to give yourself a solid month to get feedback, rewrite and review your script if you can.

Do you REALLY think your first or second draft is going to be good enough to do that?

Writing to a deadline is great – it’s usually the only motivation that will get me to write. However, while contests may be a great way to break in as a first timer, they are not for beginners. There’s a big difference between beginners and first timers. If this is your first draft of your first script, do NOT bother entering it into contests. You’re wasting your money. That’s not what these contests are for! Just keep working on it, rewriting it, polishing it, learning from it. Then 10 drafts from now, maybe it will be ready for a contest.

And finally, you need to think about Genre. The TYPE of script you’re writing and the type of contest in which it will succeed. Not every script is a Nicholls script! If you’ve got a raunchy teen sex comedy or a run-of-the-mill woman in jeopardy thriller or torture porn or slasher horror or an epic sci-fi action movie – Nicholls probably isn’t what you should be spending time on. Nicholls is looking for more PRESTIGE projects, stories where character and voice stand out. Over 50 percent of applicants last year entered drama scripts, which interesting enough made for only about 15% of all spec sales.

You should be looking at contests that are either broken up by genre (like Page Awards), or contests that are specific to your genre. There are some great genre contests out there specifically for horror, sci-fi, fantasy, etc. Look at the past winners of the big contests and see what types of projects did well and judge accordingly.

I’m not here to tell you which contests to enter, or which ones I love the most. I’m here to impress upon you that just because there is a contest, it doesn’t mean you need to enter it. And if you’re going to enter it, make sure your script is in its best shape possible to stand out and WIN.

– Danny Manus

Danny Manus is one of the most in-demand script consultants as CEO of No BullScript Consulting and author of “No B.S. for Screenwriters: Advice from the Executive Perspective.”

Danny is also a producer, a columnist for ScriptMag, a judge four years running for the PAGE Awards, and teaches seminars and workshops across the country. You can follow him on Twitter @DannyManus.

by K.M. Weiland

Make no mistake. This is a tough wire on which to balance. Give readers too much juice, and they’ll not only grow bored, they may also feel as if you are dumping info on them or condescending to them from your toplofty summit of superior knowledge. But give them too little info, and they’ll not only suffer confusion, they may still end up resenting you for condescension.

How does that work anyway? How can you condescend to readers by not dumping info or flaunting your knowledge? This is where we run right smack into the problem of exclusive dialogue.

What is exclusive dialogue?

Think of exclusive dialogue as an inside joke. You and your characters know what’s being talked about—but your poor readers are left out in the cold. In the First Five Pages, agent Noah Lukeman uses the analogy of the odd man out at a party:

iA good example of exclusive dialogue: you feel shut out as a reader, as if you’ve crashed someone’s private party and no one has any intention of filling you in. Note the plethora of cryptic and personal references, the clipped speech. This type of dialogue is sure to make the reader angry, [since] it seems as if the writer is blatantly disregarding him.

Most of us have probably found ourselves in a real-life situation like that. We stand there, grinning bravely, nodding along, trying to project an understanding of what the other people are conversing about. Meanwhile, they go right on talking over our heads, making no effort to include our obviously willing selves in their conversation.

Can you say awkward?

That’s how your readers feel when you let your characters ramble on in enigmatic sentences that hint at something juicy and interesting without including the reader.

Think of exclusive dialogue as an inside joke.

An example of exclusive dialogue

“Did you get the thing—the you know?” “Yeah, I got it.” “How’s it look?” “Oh, you know.”

Did you get any of that? Does it make you want to read on—or does it just annoy you? If readers are left dangling like this, without any further context, they’re going to feel as if you’re taunting them with what you know and they don’t.

Does exclusive dialogue ever work?

Occasionally, you can get away with using cryptic dialogue as a hook, such as Trinity’s conversation with Cypher at the beginning of The Matrix or the phone call overhead by Barbara Stanwyck’s bed-ridden character in Sorry, Wrong Number. But these instances must always be used with care. You rarely want POV characters knowing something your readers don’t. Instead, you want to create an intimacy between your readers and your character, in order to heighten your readers’ vicarious experience of the story. Exclusive dialogue creates distance between your readers and your character—and makes it that much harder for readers to identify with the story or suspend their disbelief.

The best use of exclusive dialogue will always be instances in which your POV character is just as clueless as your reader. In these instances, the mystery of the dialogue becomes a focus within the plot—instead of just a cheap gimmick to try to hook the readers’ curiosity.

They’re going to feel as if you’re taunting them with what you know and they don’t.

How can you remedy exclusive dialogue?

The answer to this one is easy: make the dialogue inclusive. Instead of writing dialogue that is purposefully vague or obscure, spell things out. Specificity will almost always bring more power—and more reader curiosity—than will vague rumblings anyway. You want readers to be curious enough to ask specific questions. In order for them to do that, they first have to be given enough specific facts to allow them to frame those questions.

We might rewrite our original example like this:

“Did you get the puppy for Jamie?” “Yeah, I got him a mastiff.” “How’s it look?” “Like I should have gotten him a Pomeranian instead.”

Before, we had no idea what the characters were talking about, who they were, what they were up to, or why we should care. Now, we have enough specific facts to understand exactly what’s going on. Now, we can actually participate in the story, instead of just looking on as an outsider.

-K.M. Weiland

K.M. Weiland is the author of the historical western A Man Called Outlaw and the medieval epic Behold the Dawn.

She enjoys mentoring other authors through her writing tips, her book Outlining Your Novel: Map Your Way to Success, and her instructional CD Conquering Writer’s Block and Summoning Inspiration.

Jamie Campbell

Jamie Campbell is an author, screenwriter, and television addict.

Jamie is proud to be an Editor for The Story Department.

Her latest series Project Integrate is out now.

jamiecampbell.com.au