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  • What Elements Make for a Good Dramatic Screenplay?

    January 8th, 2010

    Some say comedy is hard. And they’re right. But in my opinion it’s not as hard as crafting a good, successful, engrossing drama. Why? Well, even the dumbest of comedic gags or basest of jokes, will inevitably make someone laugh and be entertained. But a good drama has to do so much more than that. There’s a reason why almost 50% of the Oscar Winning Best Pictures in the last 80 years have been dramas.

     

    There is something powerful about a story that just wraps around you and sucks you in, making you forget your own problems and forces you to care about those of an often fictional character or at least someone to whom you have no personal connection. There’s something powerful about a story that can reduce your father to tears – or an audience of fathers. There’s something timeless about a good story that can make you think, reflect, feel, and react emotionally. And this is what a good dramatic screenplay should do.

     

    So how do you achieve that type of reaction? Well, it’s not easy.  But there are some keys to crafting a good dramatic screenplay. Let’s look at some examples of Oscar Nominated (or winning) dramas and see if there are any trends you notice. Schindler’s List, Forrest Gump, Titanic, American Beauty, A Beautiful Mind, Saving Private Ryan, Mystic River, A Few Good Men, Crash, Shawshank Redemption, The Queen, Apollo 13, Dead Man Walking, The Insider, Traffic, Slumdog Millionaire, etc.

     

    What do these movies have in common? There are three different trends and categories I’ve found.  First, there are true stories. Often the most dramatic stories are the ones that have actually happened or are based on actual events/people. The world is full of drama. However, the stories that movies are made about have something extra. They have broad appeal and national recognition, perhaps even historical significance. There’s something commercial about them, something that connects instead of detracts. The writer will take an event (or person or story or societal issue) and find an interesting and commercial hook they can explore to create a new angle on the story and those involved.  Some true stories expose something about people or an event or society as a whole that is unexpected, intriguing or brings something to light that has never been seen in that visual way before. From the above list, Titanic, Schindler’s List, The Queen, Apollo 13, Traffic and The Insider would all qualify under this trend.

     

    The second trend is epics. Oscar loves the epic and executives love big projects that feel like a whole new world is being created. Having a sweeping feeling means you are swept away by the story to a different place. Titanic, Saving Private Ryan, The English Patient, Braveheart, Elizabeth, Cold Mountain, etc. These are all sweeping epics. To be an epic, a script must have that sweeping feel to it, it almost always takes place in a different time period, it must be big budget, have action, romance, drama, numerous or at least large locations, a good number of characters (though only 2 or three strong leads), etc. Now, if you’re a first time writer, do yourself a favor and don’t write an epic. It will not sell and it will not do you any good as a first and only writing sample. Save it for after you’ve made your first sale.

     

    The third and final trend is that great dramatic stories start with great characters. Forrest Gump, American Beauty, A Beautiful Mind, Shawshank Redemption, Mystic River, A Few Good Men, Crash, Dead Man Walking, Milk, The Wrestler, etc. It was the character – and the portrayal of that character through brilliant acting – that brings out the true power of the story and makes it connect to an audience. The story of Slumdog Millionaire was a universal, tried and true, rags to riches love story but without the setting (which was the most important character) and those little kids that the audience just fell for, that story wouldn’t have won anything.

     

    If your drama doesn’t have a juicy, complex, emotional, heart-wrenching, personal, intelligent, connectable role for an actor – it’s dead in the water.  A good dramatic screenplay has characters people can relate to and ones that come off as genuine – like you can understand exactly why they are doing what they are doing or feeling what they are feeling, etc. Same with dialogue – in a good drama, the dialogue is slightly heightened but it feels authentic – like it’s exactly what we would say in that same situation (though perhaps more verbose and intelligent – it is a movie after all). And as a side note, don’t be afraid to inject some comedy into your dramatic scenes. Except for Schindlers List, every single drama listed above has more than one moment of levity.

     

    However, there is one thing that every good drama needs no matter what the story is. It’s more than a trend – it’s the mandatory ingredient – CONFLICT. Drama is based on conflict. And not just any conflict, but one that is powerful, relatable, and complex enough to propel a story forward and help develop characters. The story has to be constantly progressing and increasingly more involved as dramas are the most likely genre to get stale or boring. So many ideas for dramas just aren’t BIG enough, so they feel slight on the page. If there is no tension, no conflict, no build to something powerful, then your script is BORING. I can’t tell you how many scripts I read where the writer thinks there is conflict, but alas, there isn’t nearly enough for a feature. There needs to be an immediate tangible conflict, a personal aka internal conflict, an inter-personal conflict AND an overarching conflict. And your story should bring all of these together in interesting and commercial ways. If you only have ONE of these, you don’t have a good dramatic screenplay.

     

    Now, recently dramas have been on the decline. Why? Because everyone has drama in their real life, so it’s not what they want to see on the screen. However, movies like “Precious” will do well because it actually makes most people’s drama seem not so bad. Audiences either want to be completely entertained or made to think their life doesn’t suck as badly as other people’s. And if there was only ONE drama produced per year, you could bet it would still be nominated. So, search for the conflict, the story or the character that inspires you, grabs you and affects you – and if you can’t find one, make one up. And keep writing!

     

    (Article was originally published on Storylink and can also be found at http://www.storylink.com/article/333)

     

     

  • The Age Old/Old Age Question

    January 8th, 2010

    I was recently asked by one of the writers in my seminar – “Am I too old to be writing screenplays and trying to break in to the business? Am I too old to get hired?” And my short quick answer was NO! However, the longer answer is a bit more involved and not quite as inspiring.

     

    Of course you are never too old to write – even if you’re too old to hold a pen, you can still write. And there is no age limit on creativity. A writer can be prolific at any age and if you’ve been writing for 30 years, you’re probably a lot better then you were when you started. But writing isn’t the same thing as breaking into the film industry. There is no question that Hollywood is an ageist industry. If you START writing screenplays when you’re 60, you’re going to have a harder time than those trying to break in at 22 or 25 years old. This business is run by billionaires over 60 and executives under 35.  In most industries, the older you are, the wiser and more experienced people think you are. In Hollywood, the older you are, the more detached from the prime demographic you are thought to be.

     

    There are a few reasons why being older makes it harder to break in (though definitely not impossible).  First, as you get older, chances are your connection to what’s “hip” and what can sell gets that much more removed. Do you know the hottest TV shows, movies, books, music, actors, internet sites, words, phrases, lingo, etc.? Probably not.

     

    Writers write what they know or what they would like to go see themselves. The problem with this is that if you’re over 50 or so, chances are what you like to see isn’t the same as the prime 18-49 demographic. Most writers over 60 that pitch to me have either written a period piece, an autobiography or story about something that happened to them, or a family drama that suspiciously sounds like their own family. And these aren’t what sell. You know how when you go over to Grandma’s house, sometimes she wants to whip out the old home movies…well…if your grandkids don’t want to watch them, why would kids all over the country? It’s just about connecting with what sells (see my previous articles on the period piece and autobiography for more on this).

     

    Second, because executives are usually 25-35 years old, sometimes it’s hard for them to give notes to their grandparents. And speaking from experience, the older one is, often the more “stuck in their ways” they can become and to succeed in Hollywood, you have to be incredibly collaborative, malleable and willing to completely change everything. In other words, don’t be that old curmudgeon on the porch who screams and rants about “those crazy kids.”

     

    Lastly, and this is going to sound harsh, but if you’re first breaking in at age 65, then an agent or manager has to look at how many productive and creative years they have left to work with you. Most agents look for clients that they can have a long, productive and profitable relationship with. And five or ten years isn’t that long if you’re still working on only your second script.

     

    Something I’ve discovered is that everyone wants to leave a legacy. Everyone wants to leave their stamp on the world in some way (other than just having children) and screenwriting is a great way to do that. I think this is why so many people, upon retiring from their different chosen profession, choose to start writing. The day job is over and now they can write and tell their story, express themselves, etc. It’s the legacy they want to leave. If you get a movie made, your name is forever and always on that project in the history of Hollywood (for better or worse). And this is completely understandable and commendable. However, I will point out that Jay Leno had a chance to be remembered as one of the great late night personalities of all time, and now he will be remembered as the person who not only killed NBC, but perhaps killed primetime.

     

    Now before all you AARP members throw your Final Draft CD away and come after me with pitchforks and torches, I want to give you the upside. Companies are so hungry for new, original, well-written material that they don’t care who or where it comes from. A couple years ago, I was queried on virtualpitchfest.com and I asked to read the script. It was a young, female-skewed romantic comedy. I loved it, my boss loved it and we optioned the script. Six months later, the writer, who lived in the Midwest, made a trip to LA and we finally met – and he was a tall, older man – easily in his 60s with pants higher than my grandfather’s. Ya know what? It didn’t matter. His script was great. I connected him with a manager, who got him an agent and he has gone on to write numerous projects for Hallmark Channel and is now writing full time.

     

    Screenwriting contests and query websites are completely anonymous. No one knows how old you are or where you’re from. They only know if you can write and tell a good story. If you are a finalist in the Nicholls or Disney Fellowship or some other prestigious contest, you’re going to get representation and meetings no matter how old you are. So, at the end of the day, while it is harder, you can absolutely still break in at an older age. You may just need to go about it a different way and you need to pay attention to the marketplace and pop culture even more than your younger competition so that no one can say that you’re out of touch. Now let’s go grab that early bird special and get to work!

     

  • You Had Me at Hello: How to Make Your First Page Shine

    November 30th, 2009

    You’ve all heard the horror stories of producers who only read the first page and if they’re not hooked, intrigued or impressed, they toss the script. And it’s been drilled into you how important the first page is and how you better have something big and shiny there to keep people’s attentions and make sure they read page two. And while I’ve never ONLY read one page of a script before passing, I can usually tell if it’s going to be a worthwhile script just by reading this single piece of paper, representative of weeks, months or years of hard work. Fair? No. True? Yes. An A-list writer once said ‘It usually takes one page to figure out if the writing is good, but one line to know if it’s bad.’

     

    Much like your title and your logline, your first page needs to tell a reader certain things. It should set up and tell us the tone of the script. Is it dark and creepy, is it happy and funny, is there a sense of suspense, uneasiness, anxiety, death, happiness, love, etc. Your first page should make us feel an emotion – whatever the correct emotion is for your story. It should tell us the setting and time period so we know where we are. Unless otherwise stated, execs will assume your script takes place in the present. If it doesn’t, you should state this on page one so we know that your writing is genuine to the time period.

     

    If you are writing a horror, there should be a feeling that death is looming (think the first scene of “Scream”). If you’re writing a comedy, something should be done or said or seen that makes me laugh. And if you’re writing an action movie, you should start with a bang or at least make it clear that a bang is coming right around the corner.

     

    It should introduce us to either your protagonist/hero or your antagonist/villain. Sometimes it’s creepy to start by focusing on the bad guy or his crime or something like that. With a horror movie, much like with TV shows, the first scene is often a teaser setting up a killing that may not include your main characters at all, but sets up the story and the tone and that your main characters will soon be put into a similar gruesome situation. Your description of your main character should be a bit more extensive and really make us feel like we know him or her, though it should not tell us anything that we can’t physically see on screen. Don’t give us back story in your description on page one unless we are seeing it on screen – that’s an amateur mistake. 

     

    Obviously there should not be any typos or grammatical or formatting mistakes. If your first page has a couple typos, I will not read page two. Life’s too short. You should start your first page with FADE IN: and that should be the last time you type those words. Then comes your scene heading and then…you’re off.

     

    And finally, your first page should grab me and show me that you have a voice as a writer that is going to make this script an enjoyable read. It should tell me in subtle and interesting ways that you are unique. And most importantly, it should make me want to read more.

     

    You can use a fair amount of description on page one – more than usual – as you are setting up a fair amount of information. I know I’ve said that executives love white space and more dialogue on the page, but the first page is the exception page. It’s fine to open with some dialogue (usually done more in comedies then other genres), but it’s okay to switch up the ratio on page one also.

     

    I wanted to share with you a few often-made first page mistakes. First, if the whole first page is just a narrator’s voice over speech with no description or action or anything happening on screen, this tells me there’s nothing happening. Even if you’re using a voice over as the first dialogue in your script, you have to set the scene first and tell us what we’re seeing. If I am totally confused and have no idea where the script is taking place, this will cause a “huh?” moment, and you don’t want one of these on page one. If the dialogue is cliché or feels slight or stale or repetitive, that’s going to be an instant turn off. If there’s dialogue on page one, it needs to pop and put us into the mindset and voice of the character.

     

    Basically you need to paint a picture on page one and make it clear that your story is visual and your writing is interesting. Can you do all these things on page one? Well, it’s not easy. But the more of these things you can do, the better the chance that people get to page two…ten… and 110.

  • Bringing Spiritualism to the Screen – God Help You

    November 30th, 2009

    As I travel the country speaking to new groups of writers and attending pitchfests and conferences outside of Los Angeles, a certain trend in the types of material I hear has become clear and it alludes to a huge cultural difference between those who live in LA and NY and those who live elsewhere.

     

    At an LA-based pitching conference, perhaps 5 out of 100 pitches I receive revolve around spirituality, new age religion or some faith-infused plotline. But at recent trips to Santa Fe, Portland, and Dallas, I would say at least 40% of the total projects I was pitched or consulted on were based on spirituality in some form, including some sort of Native American angle or practice. Since Native Americans currently only make up about 5% of the U.S. population, why do people think this would be a big commercial success?

     

    And why is this observation of the connection between location and religion important? Because if no one in LA connects to this spiritual/new age/true believers movement, then why would we make a movie about it? Now, Los Angelinos are known for being progressive, spiritual and new age, but we’re more the organic, yoga, too lazy for real religion type of progressive. Screenwriters and producers in Los Angeles worship a different deity…and it’s green and fits in your wallet. I am convinced that this difference in attitude towards religion is what’s keeping many writers from writing a commercial project – because they think religion IS commercial…and it’s not.

     

    Religious types will often retort with how successful “Passion of the Christ” was – and it was – but that was an anomaly directed by Mel Gibson. Now, there is a huge book market for these types of projects and most of these pitches would make for great novels, just not movies.

     

    There is also a big and potentially profitable niche market for faith-based movies – “Fireproof” proved that one. However, this is a mostly Christian market and we all know how Christians feel when someone tries to horn in on Jesus. So, there really is no market for new age spirituality or Native American tradition. I cannot think of one company that is actively looking for anything like this. If I’m wrong, please – companies – tell me so because I got about 100 pitches I’d like to send your way.

     

    I respect how important spiritualism is to some people and if there is some sort of religious theme you would like to express through a completely unrelated story, that’s fine. Or maybe you read a passage in the Bible and it inspires an idea for a horror or action movie – that’s fine. Or maybe a character’s spiritual beliefs are a small part of his or her arc – that’s fine too. You just have to be aware of how much you are including the religious/spiritual aspects on the page. I understand trying to bring one’s religious beliefs to a larger audience – but that’s what Republicans are for, not screenwriters. As a general rule, if you want to write a commercial and mainstream Hollywood movie, keep your religious beliefs in your heart and your head, not on the page.

  • DAA BULL Went to Chicago

    October 21st, 2009

    Once again, I’m a bit behind on my blogging on this site because a couple weeks ago, I travelled to Chicago for a Hollywood Insider Weekend hosted by the hugely entrepreneurial advertising maven and Chicago screenwriter Linda Frothingham and Chicago Hollywood at www.chicagohollywood.com. The weekend included seminars Friday and Saturday plus an in-depth first 8 pages workshop Saturday afternoon and the weekend was capped off with a dinner and seminar for the Chicago Screenwriters Network Sunday night.

     

    I hadn’t been to Chicago since I was in College and back then, my girlfriend at the time and I stayed in some paint-chipped hostel in a room that had a light and a door…and that was about it. But I do remember the city and how nice of a contrast there was downtown between the buildings and the river, the parks and the Navy Pier. And I remember the wind and the rain, which I actually missed since it had been 90+ degrees in LA all summer and 55 degrees felt like heaven.

     

    The weekend was a lesson in promotion and patience, but overall, went pretty well. While the Friday class was barely attended – now we know for next time that Friday classes are not the way to go – I did get to talk to some high school students that seemed about as interested as you’d think a high school kid could be in a lecture about independent film. Ha!

     

    Saturday went better as we set up the Development Exec Class at Columbia College downtown and the subsequent workshop was very beneficial for the handful that attended. Thanks Rick and Noreen for sticking in there all weekend! They get the Chicago VIP award.

     

    Now Saturday night, I ventured towards Wrigley Field and spent the night bar hopping a bit and getting to know the locals, as they say. And when I returned to Linda’s home in the northern suburb of Chicago at just after 2am, after two barely made train rides, the joke of the weekend began as I was unable to open her front door. For 90 MINUTES! In the cold, in Chicago, at 330 am…I was stranded on the front porch. Somehow my knocking, doorbell ringing and incessant calls went unheeded but the door finally acquiesced and I was allowed admittance and a well-deserved sleep. To this day, that door probably still mocks me. But we all got a funny story out of it.

     

    On Sunday, we had the CSN dinner and it went wonderfully. I gave my seminar on Pitchfests and afterwards held private pitch consultations. We also sold my new No B.S. for Screenwriters E-Book which was Linda’s idea and she worked tirelessly on putting it together. The book will be available on my website VERY soon and they went like hotcakes in Chicago. The night went wonderfully and made the weekend a real success.

     

    I left the next morning with a new plan for the business, a new E-Book to sell, and having met some great writers. And that’s all you can ask for. Thanks Chicago! I hope to be back next year!

  • All About Instinct

    July 3rd, 2009

    What is it that would propel a writer to jot down one hundred and thirty pages about the one-legged woman who married the inventor of the soybean? Or a story about the quadriplegic midget who falls in love with a gold miner in 1886? Or a nice sentimental drama about a man who was raped be a seal?

    The answer – bad instincts. That thing every writer has inside of them that basically serves as their navigation tool – their story compass – that points their script in a certain direction. They can kill a writer’s career long before it ever starts. If your instincts drive you to a completely noncommercial, ridiculous, boring, inappropriate, or confusing place – there’s not much we can do for you. And by the way, I have been pitched at least ONE of the stories in the first paragraph.

    One of the most common remarks you’ll overhear an executive say at a pitchfest, is “we can tell the writer just has bad instincts.” We can usually tell if you have the right instincts, but often bad instincts can be disguised by a great pitch. I’ve had pitches that blew me away but when I started reading the script, the characters were downright despicable and the story went into odd, random directions that were never even discussed in the pitch.

    It’s THE dreaded comment really, because most other things can be fixed or improved upon with a little hard work and dedication, but we can’t change a writer’s instincts. Sure, we can change the story your instincts have driven you to write, but to change a writer’s instincts is like pushing a 10 ton truck up a hill. It’s just too hard to try. There’s too much resistance and not enough upside, because a writer with bad instincts is like dead weight on the page. It’s also the most frustrating comment for us to give, because we can see that you have a spark of a good idea or something that COULD work – if it were in another writer’s hands. And we want to take that idea from you and make it what it SHOULD be – and sometimes we are tempted. But we know that giving you notes to change your whole story is only going to anger you and waste our time. There’s nothing we can do but show you alternate directions for which to take your story, but ultimately, if a writer wants to write a story about a quadriplegic midget who buys a horse, nothing we say is going to make him reconsider.

    There are a number of things that go into shaping a writer’s instincts. Much like how one’s upbringing and relationships growing up affect their future relationships, it also affects their writing. If you were born on a hippy commune, your first script might be an anti-government conspiracy tale. If you come from a home with divorced parents, your first script might be an “American Beauty” wannabe (as my first script was). This is because when you start your writing career, everyone tells you to write what you know. I always tell people to write what is in them to write – and then put it aside and write something that can sell.

    How do you know if you have good instincts? Well, let’s say you have a great general set-up but you’re not sure what direction to take your story in. For example, your set-up is a guy falls in love with his lifelong best friend’s girl. Common enough right? What’s going to show us you have good instincts is your take on how this occurs, why this occurs, and where it goes once it has occurred. If you have poor instincts, you go to the same place everyone else goes – the men fight over the girl trying to best each other being nice until she gets sick of both and they learn that friendship is more important.

    Someone with better instincts will put a different twist on that story. Perhaps instead of the girl realizing she doesn’t love them, THEY discover they don’t love her, but neither wants to lose, so they keep dating her trying to drive her to the other guy. That’s a new twist on a really old concept. I’m not saying it’s a great idea, but it’s a new twist. There are a hundred ways to go with this kind of concept, so I suggest a writer sit down and list 10 different directions you COULD go with your story – even if you have your whole story figured out. Give yourself options. Because invariably, some studio exec is going to give you the note, “we love the set-up, but is there another direction this story could go in?” And you will already have 9 more ideas to pitch them.

    Everyone says that a person’s first instinct is usually the right one – that is not the case with writing. Often it takes the rewriting and editing process for a writer to realize his or her story’s true potential!

    How do you know if it’s your concept that isn’t working or your story instincts? Pitch your story two different ways. First, pitch your project as just a high-concept logline. Then pitch your project more in depth with more of your story. If you get bites for your concept, but your story gets you rejected, then your story instincts have led you astray.

    Improving ones instincts is a great deal harder than just rewriting a script or improving your dialogue, because it goes deeper. It’s not just a line on a page, it’s what you feel in your heart. However, in order to get past your writer’s block, repeated rejection, or repetitive story rut, it’s your instincts that you’re going to have to examine.

  • He’s Just Not That Into You…Or Your Writing

    July 3rd, 2009

    For a writer, dealing with an executive is often a bit more like dating than business. And in a courtship, sometimes less is more. And much like in dating, making the wrong move at the wrong time, or sending the wrong message, can often end a relationship prematurely. One of the biggest concerns of writers – and understandably one of their biggest frustrations – is what to do after they’ve actually submitted their script. You’ve gotten the okay to send the script, you’ve made sure it’s professional and ready, and you’ve sent it with a lovely cover letter. And now…you wait. Sound familiar?

    How long do you wait? Do you make contact first? Is there a three week rule the same way there’s a three day rule before calling a girl back? The honest answer is – in general, you wait until they get back to you. But this all depends on the situation. If you are represented, you should have your agent or manager get in touch with the exec in about 2-3 weeks time. If you are unrepresented but had an actual in-person meeting with the exec, during which they gave you his or her card, then you should follow up yourself in about three weeks time. If the exec promised to get back to you in a couple of days, then maybe follow up in two weeks instead of three. If your submission resulted from a pitchfest or cold query, then I would probably wait about a month to contact the exec you sent the script to.

    So, let’s say hypothetically, you met with an exec, but you’re not represented. It’s been three weeks and they have not gotten back to you (and by the way, holidays are not counted in that time so if you submitted your script the Monday of Thanksgiving week – don’t even bother counting it). What should you do? Write them a very short and sweet email with the subject line being your script’s title and maybe something quick like “Checking in.” And in the email, all you need is one succinct and respectful line that goes something like:

    “Dear So and So,
    Just wanted to drop you a line and see if you’ve had a chance to read “my script.” I look forward to your thoughts.
    Best regards,
    Your Name.”

    That’s it. Do NOT point out that you submitted it over a month ago. Do not point out that the exec had promised to get back to you in a week or two. Do NOT reiterate what your story was, how great it is, or how perfect it would be for their company. You already made your pitch – that’s why they’re reading the script. All you need to do is gently remind them that they haven’t responded yet, and that one line will do that.

    Here’s what NOT to do:

    “Dear So and So,
    I submitted my script “Called This” over a month ago and I haven’t heard back from you yet. You had given me your card and thought it was a great pitch. I really think that “Called This” is the perfect script for you. It’s incredibly original with great characters and blah blah blah. I hope you get back to me soon.
    Sincerely,
    Your name”

    Writing something like this shows a lack of professionalism and tact and your script will probably be tossed in the pass pile. And even more important than not writing something like this, is not writing more than ONE follow up email. So, keep it short, sweet and professional…and then wait. Patience is a virtue. Execs read anywhere from seven to 25 scripts a week so you just don’t know if you’ve caught them on a busy week or not. Don’t think that just because he hasn’t gotten back to you, that he’s not interested or didn’t like your writing. Now if it’s been over three months, then chances are your writing was so bad that the exec didn’t feel he needed to waste time responding, but don’t get paranoid if it’s only been a few weeks.

    Getting a second “date” with an exec isn’t hard – you just have to make a good first impression.

    And maybe wear something low cut. No not you, sir. Just kidding.

    Best of luck and keep writing!

  • I’ll Put A Spell On You

    July 3rd, 2009

    Quite a few writers lately have asked me if typos and grammatical mistakes are a big enough reason for me to pass on a project. My quick answer is YES. I then ask them: “Why do you ask? Do you intend on writing something with lots of typos?” It almost seems like a silly question for a writer to ask. Are you worried that you can’t spell? Many of history’s greatest writers have stated publicly that they are horrible spellers or never passed a grammar class. Well, that’s okay because guess what – there’s a program that can help you with that.

    One of my biggest personal pet peeves is spelling and grammar. Maybe part of that is because my mother is an English teacher and when I used bad grammar, she’d give me the eye. But the real reason is two-fold:

    1. It distracts me. It takes me out of the story and the writing because now I’m counting and correcting spelling instead of connecting to your characters or trying to figure out the big picture of your script.

    2. It tells me that you are a lazy and sloppy writer, and I don’t like to work with lazy writers. It takes so very little time to run a spell check or grammar check and you, the writer, should be going over every word of your script with a fine-toothed comb before you submit it anywhere – even to a script consultant.

    However, never in the history of screenwriting has a script been passed on because it had one or two misspelled words. Okay, maybe Scott Rudin did it once, but it was a busy day. So when I say typos, I don’t mean a couple. I mean if there are one or two typos on EVERY page (or every 5 pages)…then yeah, I might pass because I don’t think you worked hard enough to make it look professional.

    The bottom line is – with the myriad of reasons executives and analysts have to pass on your script, why would you want to give them one more? Especially something you have full control over. You can’t control what else they have in development or what genre they are looking for, but you can make sure that your script looks professional. If I find two scripts in the same genre that I love equally, which script do you think I’m going to want to read again and again – the one with typos and mis-wordings and grammatical mistakes on every page (which also tells me they will be there in all subsequent drafts), or the one that reads clean and easy and keeps my head in the story?

    Do yourself a favor…never ask an exec the question about typos again and instead, ask the following question of yourself: “Is my script the best representation of my ability as a writer?” And then make sure you spelled the question right.

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