Is there a Major Major?

I was also wondering if there's any particular university degree you would recommend for young people interested in writing for film and television?

No.

I have a double major in Computer Science and English. I would say that my C.S. major helped me at least as much in showbiz as my English major. Computer Science taught me how to write a script "top down." Also, having a C.S. degree, and French, got me my first full-time job in the biz.

If you're a writer, you'll write. That's why when I was at Yale, there wasn't much of a creative writing track. I did more, and better, creative writing trying to get fiction and poems into Zirkus, and The Yale Lit, than I did taking John Hersey's creative writing class. I did even more, and better, when I took a term off to hang around Columbia and audit Kenneth Koch's creative writing class for no credit.

I also learned more about screenwriting from Funky Bob Thompson's class "The Afro-Atlantic Tradition" than I did in some screenwriting classes getting my MFA at UCLA. "Master T" taught about how in West African and Southern Black cultural traditions, syncopation isn't an esthetic exclusively for music; it applies to quilts, to dancing, to everything. I learned how not to write in 4/4 time.

(And when I say, "Master T," think of the whitest guy you ever met, in a button shirt and creased pants. He was the Master of Timothy Dwight residential college until last year.)

So I don't really care what you study in college. And neither will anyone else in LA. They are if you're smart. They care if you know stuff. Mostly they care if you can deliver a hot spec. Whatever gets you there is what you should study. If that's History, great. If that's Electrical Engineering, also great.

Remember, the point of university (as opposed to a graduate degree) isn't to teach you stuff. The world can teach you stuff. Working will teach you stuff. University is to teach you how to learn; and to teach you to attack a problem from multiple perspectives.

So, really, study what you love. If you're a writer, you'll write.

How to Be a Cog

Bob Bates has a good article in Gamasutra about how to enjoy your career in the game industry. Quite a bit of it is good advice on how to enjoy your career in showbiz. Including:

People expect to feel more regret because of foolish actions than foolish inactions. But studies show that nine out of 10 people are wrong. Indeed, in the long run, people of every age and in every walk of life seem to regret not having done things, much more than they regret things they did."

Nuts

Blog Reader/blogger Emilie inquires about setting up her own production company as a writer.

From what I understand, in Canada it is production companies that bring shows to networks. Would it be possible to bypass the whole hierarchical system by starting your own production company? What if you launched a company and slowly built up the company’s portfolio, writing/shooting web content for clients or producing short films, and maybe applying for grants to help fund your projects along the way.

My initial answer is on her blog with some other useful info.

Of course it turns out that part of her plan is to find a great producing partner who will do the applying for grants for her.

The reason you don't team up with one producer partner is that it's limiting. The producer you team up with will like some of your projects and not others. Her contacts may be good with one part of the industry and not others. Her skills may be up to a certain budget and not above.

As a free lancer, I team up with all sorts of producers on different projects, with obvious advantages.

Also, when you start a company, you increase your nut. You acquire expenses. Producers have bigger expenses than writers. They have to go to markets. They have to pay for lunch. Why yoke yourself to one producer?

For a writer, I think, it only makes sense to have a company when you're already showrunning. Possibly showrunning more than one show. It makes sense for Joss Whedon to have a company. He's already telling everyone on his shows what to do, so why not have them on staff?

But I think for most writers, the key to having a happy career is to keep your expenses down so that you can afford to take the most challenging job rather than the best paying job. Or so you can write a great spec pilot rather than having to write corporate videos in order to stay housed.

I would add that if you keep thinking about how fun it would be to have a company, it is possible that you are not congenitally a writer. You might congenitally be a producer. That's not a bad thing. Creative producers are rare and valuable.

UPDATE: In the comments, Lackie writes:

I'm a Radio and TV student in Toronto, moving towards a similar plan in a couple years (starting a small prodco to kickstart my writing career), but mostly because I plan on just shooting my own low-budget projects for the web; essentially, being the showrunner of low-to-no-budget webseries right out of school. If I'm working on my own projects to be released outside the network hierarchy, is this the more feasible plan?

It's a totally feasible plan for starting a production company and becoming a writer/producer/director.

What I'm not sure is whether it is the best path to a writing career. On the plus side, you get experience seeing your words become pictures. And you have a calling card.

On the other hand you are investing a huge amount of time and energy and money in making a web series, time and energy you could be spending writing some spec scripts and getting hired onto a real show. It's a tradeoff.

A web series requires a concept that can be realized on practically no budget -- LonelyGirl15, not Inception. It requires good writing. It requires production values appropriate to the scope of the concept. It requires great acting, which generally means union actors. Don't do one unless you can do it really well.

Frame of Mind

Q. I had an independent but (from what I've heard) reputable producer say she wanted to option my script for a Web miniseries, and they've been taking forever sending me one. It's been over a month and a half of "in about a week." Should I be concerned?

No. Don't be concerned. It is probably a dead duck, but maybe it's not. You never know.

Here's how I approach these things: I send stuff out, then I forget about it. If I get interest, my agent negotiates. If the interest fizzles out, I move on. If a producer with whom I don't already have a relationship with promised me something six weeks ago, and didn't deliver it, you will have to remind me what it was, because I've forgotten it.

I try never to mourn the might have beens. I rarely stress about what may work out. I just assume things may or may not happen, and focus on the writing.

I can control the writing. I can do the writing. I can't make a producer hire me or buy my stuff. I try not to put too much energy into hoping they will. I just focus on what I'm writing.

A producer might not hire me because they don't think my sample was funny or dramatic enough. Or because they wanted a woman writer. Or a junior writer. Or because they needed someone from British Columbia. Or because they owed a script to somebody. Or a million other reasons. The only one I can control is the first one, and I can't even control the script at the point it goes out the door. I can only make the next script funnier or more dramatic.

A producer might not buy my script because they don't want a romantic comedy, or they're busy, or the market is soft, or because they already have something sort of like mine, or because they have no money after all. All I can do is write another script.

If you focus on your work, your work will be better and you'll do better in your career. But much more importantly, you won't stress about things that are completely beyond your control and your ken. The work will save you. You can't rely on anything else.

How Many Irons?

Here's an interesting question, from NO PANTS ISLAND:

Q. You sell your first script (or series concept, in my case).

But what if it stagnates? What if nothing happens to Series A, and the option fee rolls in every year for the next four, and that's it? Today, as I mulled over other projects I've sketched out or brainstormed, I wondered: just how many other ideas should I be trying to get out there? How many other things should I be working on?

The moment I sell or option something, or finish something on commission, the moment it's off my plate, I start working on the next thing. Or the thing I was working on before.

(I get grumpy when I'm not working on something or other.)

I generally try to work on our most commercial idea, i.e. whatever idea will most quickly result in my getting a check, adjusted for how big that paycheck might be if it comes.

Assuming I'm not being paid to write something, the next project I write might be, in order.

a. write up a 3-5 page TV pitch or 6-10 TV pitch bible from an idea

This generally takes priority because it doesn't take much time, and because getting a TV series set up is a much bigger deal than getting an indie film set up. In my case, indie feature: $50-70K script fee against potential $80-250K payday. Series: $20K pilot script+bible up to $120K of development fees, against potential $300K+ per year income stream.

If Lisa has a good idea (it's almost always Lisa), we'll suspend other spec work for a week or so to bang out the pitch bible. Nail those concepts down before they flit out of your mind. Don't let them escape!

b. write up a feature pitch from an idea

The market is currently terrible for indie features, and it's hard to get producers excited about a pitch -- even though, in Canada, they can take the pitch to Telefilm and get most of the money to have me write it.

I can also submit a feature pitch to a few Canadian government programs that pay writers to spec their own scripts.

If the feature "writes itself," the pitch might take a week.

c. spec a TV pilot

In the US, you usually have to go out with a spec pilot if you want to option or sell your series concept.

In Canada I can option a pitch bible to producers, who will look for development money from a network. But if I have a pitch bible that didn't get set up, but I still believe in the show, or if I have a concept I think won't pitch well, I'll write a spec pilot. That's what I'm in the middle of now.

I'm going to spend a couple months on a pilot, so I try to write all the pitches and get them out there before I invest that kind of time.

d. spec a feature

In the US, you almost always have to spec a feature as a first step; pitches won't get you anywhere unless you're a major name as a writer. Also, if you want to get on the lists of studio approved rewriters, you probably have to make a big spec sale.

I try to avoid speccing a feature because producers in Canada are so spectacularly uninterested in spec features. They seem to want to develop their own ideas from scratch, perhaps because that way they can share in Telefilm's development largesse. But if I love a concept enough, I might spec a feature, and that has sometimes paid off.

Speccing a feature might take a couple of months from concept to first draft, but it probably will take more time, and more drafts, to get it where it needs to be.

If you spec a feature, you won't get paid for it until the movie actually shoots. But you might get an option fee plus a rewrite out of it.

e. spec a series script

If you're not a known TV writer, particularly in the States, you need to bang out spec scripts as often as you can. I'd spend a month on a spec, probably; you could reasonably spend one or two.

(See other blog posts for why you shouldn't just write spec pilots if you're an emerging writer.)

Personally, I haven't written a spec episode since Sorkin was writing WEST WING. But most of the people who could hire me in this country already know me, my writing or my rep, well enough that they'll take my various (spec or commissioned) pilots as samples.


I tend to write a project to whatever point I think it's good to go out to producers. If it's a TV series idea that really depends on the writing, I'll go out with a pilot. If it's a concept-driven series idea that, really, any network exec can make a decision on at the bible stage, I go out at the bible stage.

So: how many projects should you have circulating? As many as you can, so long as they're all as good as you can reasonably make them. It's better to have a superb 6 page pitch out than a half-assed pilot. It's better to have one superb TV pitch and a spec feature you've rewritten the hell out of than one great idea, two uninspiring ideas, and three first draft features.

The number of projects you have out there will depend on (a) how fast you come up with new, good ideas (b) how fast you can write them up and (c) how long it takes the market to reject them or pick them up.

The more credits you have, the higher level access you have, the quicker they can reject you. I can take shows straight to the network and get my rejections right away. That tends to reduce my number of free-floating projects.

(I often don't, because I want to develop relationships with producers; and let's be honest, I hate those quickie rejections.)

Getting shows set up also reduces the number of free-floating projects.

We went out with literally a dozen ideas in the first six months of the year. Currently, one is optioned, one I'm speccing a pilot for, two are waiting on feature-writing grants, and the others are pinin' for the fjords. Some got close, some no one sparked to, a couple we pulled after we got lukewarm reactions, because we decided we hadn't quite nailed them after all. We'll go out with them again if we can figure out what they're missing. The pilot was something I wasn't feeling the heat from at the bible stage, so I pulled it and decided to spec it.

So the answer to the question is: as many as you are capable of getting out there... but don't send anything out that you can't be really proud of.

Q. Additionally, should I be giving the company I'm now building a relationship with first crack at whatever tidbits come out of my brain? Or should I be saving tidbits, putting them aside, and working on building Series A and only Series A, until such time as it becomes clear that Series A ain't going anywhere?

I rarely give the same company two things at once.

First, I want to create lots of relationships. When companies are looking for writers, they start with writers they're already in business with. I've got two series because I had something else optioned to the company.

Second, if they like one better, they'll focus on that, and backburner the one they like less. I don't want anything backburnered.

Third, it makes them feel I haven't given them something special. It makes them take me for granted.

Spread the love, baby!

What next?

Q. I wrote a spec of The Office and applied to different fellowships. Luckily, I made it as a semi finalist for the Nickelodeon Fellowship, and of course I'm hoping I get picked in the next few weeks.

Let's say I'm lucky enough to get my foot in the door at one of these programs. What writing samples should I work on next? Should I be writing more TV spec scripts? Should I be working on a pilot? Or a feature? Or should I be working on a web series?

"What do I write next?" is something I struggle with whenever I don't have a paid gig on my plate. For a straight TV writer, the answer is easy: another spec. Either a spec script or a spec pilot.

If you're into a TV fellowship, your problem is solved. The point of the fellowships is to get you some mentorship to go with your writing.

I'm a TV and feature writer, so, "What should I write next" is a conversation I'm often having with my agent. I try to diversify and spread my bets. So, for example, I just wrote a spec pilot. Before that I wrote up a pitch for a thriller feature. Before that I rewrote two spec features that producers have optioned, and cast a short film I hope to direct. Earlier in the summer, Lisa and I wrote a pilot for The N. In the middle there I've read various projects I'm "up for," which means doing the creative work of figuring out my "take."

I've never tried very hard to write a web series, because I don't know how you get paid for writing a web series. I don't even know anyone who's serious about producing one. But if you want to produce your own as a calling card, that might be a way to set yourself apart from the pack of TV writers who have spec scripts as good as yours.

I get very grumpy when I'm not writing, so I try to move to the next writing project ASAP. Which means I'll be pondering this very question shortly.

Drug Use?

How common is marijuana use in writers' rooms? Do companies really enforce a no-drug policy, or just let the kids play as long as the shows are getting ratings? Is Canada different than U.S. in this respect?

I have never seen drug use on the job on either side of the border. I think, to most show people, getting stoned on the job would be like getting drunk on the job. They would see it as a personal problem that you have. They might or might not fire you, depending on how they manage their people. But they wouldn't view it as a plus.

It's not a question of morality. Show people are tolerant of all sorts of extravagant personal choices if you have enough talent and people like you enough; that's how Robert Downey, Jr. still has a career. But most companies will fear that if you're using drugs or alcohol on the job, you're unreliable. My understanding is that Aaron Sorkin's coke problem on THE WEST WING led to him getting fired off his own show. Not because he was coked up; because he was late with episodes.

Personally, I can't imagine trying to write while high. I gather it works for Seth Rogen, though who knows if he wouldn't write even better straight. If you need to get wasted to put out the pages, maybe you should look at what's stopping you from writing, rather than trying to drug your way through it.

I have to say that overall, I have seen surprisingly little drug use in showbiz off the job. I've been to my share of industry parties both in LA (in the Nineties) and Canada (in the Naughties). Rarely have I been aware of anyone doing coke. I rarely smell pot smoke, either. Not that many people even get seriously drunk. Is it a generational thing? Do people not invite me to the really fun parties? Do show people not want to be wasted when they're working a party?

Make of it what you will. I'm going to get another coffee.

Weehawken

Q. Do I need to have gone to a top university? All the best writers seem to have gone to top universities.

I'm not sure that's true. When someone goes to Harvard, you hear about it. When someone goes to the University of Weehawken, they don't always mention it.

I do think as a general thing you should try to go to the best college you can. It's not strictly critical. My grandfather didn't graduate high school and he was pretty smart. He just wrote to a bunch of professors at Harvard and asked each of them for their top ten books. Then he read them. A hundred books later, he knew a lot more than when he started.

But the kinds of connections you can make at Yale are probably going to be more helpful than the kinds you make in Weehawken. The Yalies will tend to wind up at the top of their professions, where they can give you jobs in any major city. The guys in Weehawken are going to tend to stay in Weehawken. When you, being brilliant, leave Weehawken, you leave your alumni network behind.

I do use some of the skills I actually learned in class. English classes were good for learning how to analyze subtext. Computer science classes were good for learning how to write a script top-down.

Oh, and you learn to bulls*** really, really well. You learn how to pass the test without having done all the reading. Since in life you often can't do all the reading (usually because no one has actually written it), that's a key skill.

The other thing you get at a great college that you don't get from reading books is different live perspectives. Books give you fresh perspectives, but they won't argue with you. A great university is full of students who will argue with you and challenge, yea, mock, your perspectives.

But what makes a great writer is observation and analysis of human stories, human experiences, both in real life and as told by great story tellers. You can learn that in real life. You don't need to go to Princeton to do it. Princeton will help you a lot, sure, but there's some self-selection going on there: people who are willing to jump through all the hoops necessary to get into Princeton and pay for it, will tend to jump through all the hoops later in life. If you missed the boat on the Ivies, just make sure you're putting as much effort into your craft -- make sure you're thinking as hard -- as the Ivy guys are, and you'll do fine.

Another Goodie for Maritimers, B'yes

The 28th Atlantic Film Festival announces its Call for Feature Film Outlines for the Festival’s Inspired Script program. The Inspired Script program offers a unique opportunity for four Atlantic Canadian writers to develop their feature film outlines to treatments and pitch them at the 28th Atlantic Film Festival, September 11-20, 2008.

The program will culminate in the selection of one screenplay that will be eligible to receive a maximum of $20,000 in development financing from the presenting sponsors and allow the writer to work with a veteran story editor to help bring the treatment to a first draft script to be presented as the Script Out Loud at the 29th Atlantic Film Festival in 2009.

The deadline for submissions is Monday, May 5, 2008. The entry form is available for download from the AFF website at www.atlanticfilm.com under "For Filmmakers & Delegates." Participating writers will be announced in early June.

"We expect we'll see plenty of solid entries from the incredible screenwriters in Atlantic Canada as we roll out the 12th year of this remarkable development opportunity," says Lia Rinaldo, Festival Director. "Every year the program just keeps on getting stronger and stronger, there is certainly no shortage of great ideas in this region.

An Inspired Script jury will select the four outlines that will be developed into treatments that will then undergo two intensive weekend workshops under the guidance of [producer] Al Magee... The writers will then have the chance to work with Jan Miller to hone their pitching technique by participating in Jan's reputable Pitcher Perfect workshop. All four writers will take part in Inspired Script industry events at the 28th Atlantic Film Festival, including the Inspired Pitch & Matchmaking Session. These treatments will then be vetted back to a jury of Inspired Script sponsors who will choose the one that will receive further development funding for the next year. The chosen project will also receive a live, staged full read-through with local actors at Script Out Loud during the 29th Atlantic Film Festival.

Inspired Script is sponsored by Telefilm Canada and Astral Media the Harold Greenberg Fund. The winning treatment will be announced during the Atlantic Film Festival.

See? This is what I mean by Canada being a more nurturing cultural environment than LA.

MBA, m'kay

Q. Do you see the value of doing a Masters in Business for someone who wants to end up in broadcasting and/or producing?

I know a couple of people who came out of UCLA's Anderson School of Management who went on to careers as studio execs, e.g. Lorenzo di Bonaventura. Presumably they got a leg up on the competition because of their MBA. My roommate from when I was in film school went to the ASM, and he's done a lot of serious number crunching for Fox, which is something he learned in his MBA program. I imagine there must be other jobs at networks -- e.g. in programming -- where number crunching comes in handy.

I also know some women who in those days, I suspect, got MBA's purely as a credential, so they wouldn't be perceived as "girls." I hope no one is doing that any more.

If you want to produce, then an MBA is probably useless. Not much statistical analysis in producing. The best thing you can do if you want to produce is go to work in the mailroom of a major agency, if you can get a job there. (The MBA might help you there, though the debt load probably won't help.) The second best thing would be to go work as a producer's assistant. If you absolutely must spend large sums of money, then you can go to the Stark Program at USC, or similar producing programs at NYU and UCLA.

Shoe on the Other Foot

My pay cable series has been greenlit for more development -- scripts 4, 5 and 6. (I've already turned in the pilot, 2 and 3.) And I've been authorized to put together a small writing room to help break the rest of the season.

It's an interesting experience. I've hired writers before. And I've supervised writers before. But right now, we're looking for two top drama writers -- which means lots of the people I've been looking at have more experience than I do. Some of them are a bit older than me, too.

Suddenly, I understand why people get nervous hiring writers older than they are, because I'm nervous. One doesn't want to be disrespectful, but then one also doesn't want to have to defer to the other writer just because they're older -- or more experienced. It is after all your show.

It was an interesting process, going through the resumes. I kept going back to my own resume to see how it reads. Not all credits help you. I rejected some people with years of experience because their experience was all the same: procedural, procedural, procedural. My show is not a procedural. I'm more interested in someone who's staffed on a procedural, but also written a movie or two, and developed their own comedy pilot.

You want to avoid getting pigeonholed. I've become kind of a comedy writer of late. Unless I only want to get comedy work, I've got to change pace. Fortunately, this series is a metaphysical drama, so it shows range.

I find I don't always absorb credits well past the first page. You want all the impressive stuff on the first page; even better if there is only the one page. So I took off all my less-than-impressive credits. I've written or helped develop or produce some pretty unspectacular movies. Better to write "selected features" and "selected TV" and only include the good stuff, I think: the hit film, the series I co-created, the Head Writer gig, the directors I've written for.

I also find that the people I like wow me in the first five pages of their samples, with fresh, distinct characters and situations. The merely competent establish a situation with stock characters. The fresh writers don't always structure their screenplays well -- the screenplay may not deliver on the promise of the first five -- but if there isn't something distinctive in the first five, there isn't going to be in the rest of the script.

Now we're waiting on network approval for our development budget. Stay tuned!

Kids

Quite a number of writers I know don't have kids, and don't seem to be planning to have any. I'm sure everyone has different reasons. You typically want to have a permanent relationship before you have kids, and for guys it's kind of crucial to have a woman involved. The writing life is unstable, with financial peaks and valleys, and the financial stakes come with very long days and often long trips. I went to Cape Town for 4 months when my daughter was six months old, and my agent is often asking me if I'd like to be considered for shows in places like Calgary or Jo'burg. And, I imagine, many people become writers out of their own personal craziness, which they may perhaps prefer to inflict on an audience who can turn them off, than a child who may forever curse their name.

[And as the amusingly self-dubbed Stercus Accidit points out below, some writers just don't feel like reproducing.]

But. Kids are a big part of life, eh? I've done some of the best writing in my life since my daughter was born and I became Hunter's stepdad. I keep putting bits of them into my screenplays. As an only child, I don't have a wealth of sibling rivalry to draw on, or nieces and nephews. And even if I had, I'm not sure it's the same thing as watching your own kids grow up.

Learning to be a writer is not just a process of learning your craft. It is also observing life. And to really observe life, you have to be part of it. You cannot perfect your craft in a vacuum. You not only need to get your words up on the screen; you need to have life experiences to draw from. Write another spec, or go on a safari? I say go on the safari. Read another screenwriting book or make a new friend? I say make the new friend. Your life and your craft need to be in balance, or your craft has nothing to draw from but old episodes of UGLY BETTY. And that's not pretty.

You might think your young family's needs will prevent you from having a writing career. I don't think it will. You may have to become a more focused writer. You might have to give up your AIM account, and Facebook less, at least until you're getting paid to do it. You might need to get up at 4 in the morning to write before everyone wakes up.

But I know many writers who broke in after they began a family. Having kids gives you a sense of perspective about the ups and downs of a writing career. Once you have someone else who needs you forever, it's harder to feel crushed by some development exec's diss. Once you absolutely need to put food on the table, and can no longer go live with your mother, you may find that you start making more serious decisions about whether to spec that unproducable historical fantasy comedy versus the "very set-up-able" low-budget rom-com.

And having a family can come across as a credit. My pay cable network has greenlit development on three more scripts for the series I'm creating for them. I'm putting together a small writing room to break story for episodes 4-10. My show's about a mom. My four criteria are staffing experience, brilliantly original writing, love for genre -- and kids. Not a deal-breaker, but it sure is a plus.

I think that moreover many people bond over their kids. I've often felt that network execs warmed to me after we discussed our kids.

Obviously no one has kids for the sake of their writing career; and if you don't want kids, God bless you, too. More room for the rest of us. I'm just saying that if you want to start a family, I don't think you should feel that a writing career is a reason not to have one. Your career may benefit, and your understanding of human life certainly will.

Celebrate Your Victories As They Come

A dear friend of mine writes:

My little teen comedy was set up with a company with independent financing (always uncertain, of course) supposedly to start pre-production in February. Well, we shall see. I'm jaded enough not to get excited till the cameras start rolling. And even then...

Here is a small secret of mine to surviving showbiz: celebrate your victories as they come. Showbiz is risky as hell. You never know for sure that you're going to be shooting until you're on set. And even then the financing can fall apart at the last minute.

If you wait until the film is in theaters, you'll be too exhausted to celebrate anything.

I used to get excited about things. Then I got jaded, and I never got excited about anything. An agent is reading a script, good, but what if they reject it? I'm going out with a spec, good, but what if no one says yes? My movie's in prep, great, but what if the financing falls through? What if I get dicked out of credit? What if what if what if?

Now I just buy myself a nice bottle of wine whenever I have an excuse to. (Don't worry, this works out to at most a couple bottles of wine a month, in a good month.)

My attitude is: celebrate good news when it comes, even if it is tentative, shaky good news. Because you'll mourn the defeats as they come, so why not enjoy the victories?

Oh, and, make sure your friends celebrate their victories. Don't be all Gore Vidal about it.

What victories can you celebrate this Chrismukkah season?

Should I Send Two Projects To the Same Producer?

A company that is interested in one of my pitches is now interested in another one of them. But if I send them both, wouldn't that in effect pair one submission off against another?

It's better to spread your projects around, all other things being equal. You might try to see which project the producer is really serious about, and pull the other one.

But bear in mind any producer has ten projects on the go, so your projects are only tangentially competing against each other; mostly they're competing with the producer's other projects. Sure, he may like one of your things better than the other; but more often he'll like one thing better for one source of financing, and the other, better for another source of financing. The producer will be sending your projects around to execs at the various channels and networks and studios; they usually won't all like the same projects. I currently have two projects at one production company. One is more of a CBC project; the other is more of a Showcase project. So they're not crowding each other out.

If the only interest you have on two projects is from one producer, it's better to get them into his hands than have them sit on your shelf. Right?

A Couple of General Etiquette Thoughts

These apply to all modern life, but as with everything in showbiz, your social weaknesses will hurt not only your friendships, but your career.

a. Email is not a substitute for calling people.

A lot of people these days will email when they should be calling, I guess out of shyness. In most cases, email is not really the best way to talk to people one on one.

I send emails when I want something on the record, or I want to present all my thinking in one coherent package, or to remind people, or to tell them something totally non-time-sensitive.

I call people when I want to work something out with them, and especially when I want something from them.

Someone I know was recently interviewing child-care workers by email. That's crazy. You want to hear tone of voice. You want to be able to ask follow-up questions. Calling people also takes less time, and people are more likely to bring up new things you might not have thought of, and they will feel they spent time with you, rather than considering you one of the many chores they had to deal with today.

If you want a "yes," ask your question in a face-to-face meeting. People find it much easier to say "no" over the phone; a fortiori by email. If you want to work something out, ask in person or over the phone. Only use email for follow up and to set up phone conversations, and occasionally to lay out an in-depth proposal or argument.

b. Friending is not a substitute for creating a relationship.

What is it with these Facebook friend requests from people I have to look up in my rolodex? What is it with the friend requests from people I can't find in my rolodex? I'm fond of Neil Gaiman, and we even have mutual friends, and he's one of my two writer gods (Joss being the other), but I wouldn't dream of friending him, 'cause we've never met, not even on the phone.

If you just met someone for five minutes and consider yourself their new best friend forever, it would be common courtesy, at a minimum, to include an actual note with your friend request. But the Right Thing to do would be to drop them an email about something you're both interested in, and see if you can strike up a conversation. Or invite them to something. If you're not doing that, then all you've got is a bigger number on your profile.

On the other hand, if you're not on Facebook, you probably should be. An epidemic of Facebook swept through my neck of showbiz about five months ago, and about half of everybody signed on. We got another outbreak a few weeks ago that picked up, oh, another ten percent. You should use all the networking skillz and toolz you can to stay in touch with people. Just, you know, do it like you care.

Oh, and please -- if someone you know tangentially accepts your friend request, and you haven't had any personal contact with them since, do not attack them with your Stealth Zombie. Why this is not obvious to people is beyond me.

Chain of Command

Used to be, when you called a producer or an agent, their assistant not only put the call through, but listened in on the entire conversation, so he would know what follow-up he needed to do, and could double-check later with his boss to make sure things got done.

Since the Blackberry epidemic, it seems to me that many producers, and possibly agents, are managing their office remotely. That means you may be talking with the producer on his cell phone at MIP and shooting him emails at the airport, and he may be responding from the plane.

Problem is, his assistant may not have access to all this back and forth on a regular basis. It's not hard for information to get lost. It may even get lost while your exec or producer is at the office. I have more than once had to remind network execs that they actually have a copy of the script we're talking about, which they thought they were waiting for me to send.

Solution: always copy the underlings. If you are delivering a script, copy the assistant; now he or she knows that his or her boss needs to read the script, and can remind him.

If a check is due, you might want to copy the business affairs guy, so there is no argument later on about what was or was not delivered.

Theoretically, writers are artists and producers are businessmen. But this is show business. You have to expect that your producer has a strong artistic side. You have to behave a lot more like a businessman. You have to understand contracts, you have to be a bit of a salesman, you have to make sure you got a signed copy of the contract back, you have to dot all the i's and cross the t's. Or have very, very good people working for you.

For Emerging Quebec Writers and Directors

Telefilm Quebec has a new program for emerging writers and writer-directors. It's short on money but long on advice and consultation; as I understand it, it's there to help you workshop your commercial thriller idea into a script. Check it out; the deadline is October 11.

More on Dreams on Spec

Oh, and here's another thought about listening. Listen to the marketplace. There's a crucial difference in DREAMS ON SPEC between Dave, the guy who succeeds, and Joe and Deborah, who fail.

Dave is listening to the marketplace. His script is a low budget slasher movie with a twist. It's about a masked slasher à la Freddy or Jason, who invites a documentary crew to film his upcoming career.

Complications ensue.

Dave has taken a well-known genre -- low budget slasher movies -- and added a post-modern twist. That's listening to the market.

Also, he takes insults well. The director chops off 20 pages? He sucks it up. The director grabs a co-write credit? He sucks it up. (A better contract would have helped him there.) And then Dave, realizing that his $25,000 fee for the picture isn't going to catapult him onto the list of Studio Approved Writers, doesn't give up his day job. Which is a day job as an assistant at an agency.

Smart boy, Dave.

Meanwhile, Joe's a guy who mortgaged his house to produce and direct his own script, starring himself. It hasn't got distribution.

That's not listening to the market. If no one wants to buy your script, and no one wants to direct or star in it, it's pretty arrogant to assume that if you direct and star in it, they'll want the finished film.

There are always stories about people who spend their own money to break into Hollywood. Hollywood loves those stories. You have to assume that for every Robert Rodriguez who raises $7,000 to make his own feature, there are 100 guys who maxed out their credit cards and didn't get a deal. There are exceptions to every rule, but the rule is still there: Other People's Money, baby. Do not spend your own money on your script. If you can't find anyone willing to put money in it, it may not be that good a script.

Deborah, at least, has the right idea there. She's trying to raise money for her to direct her film. But again: not listening. Has she had one of her screenplays produced? No. Is anyone hankering to buy her script? Not that I noticed. So why does she think her project becomes more interesting if she's directing it? Has she directed before? No.

Climb the mountain one step at a time. Don't try to pole vault. You don't even want to direct your first script. You want to become a really good screenwriter, so that then when you get to direct one, at least you know your script is good. If you direct your first script you'll be cursing your screenwriter the whole way.

Make your mistakes one job description at a time.

Deborah's level of self-delusion is almost as big as Joe's. She's got two months in the bank. So what's her plan? Get funding for her movie in two months. Are you kidding? It takes 6-12 months to finance a picture when all goes well. As a CE she ought to know that. And she thinks she's going to get Oscar-winner Adrien Brody to star in a movie directed by an unknown?

She's not listening to the market. She's listening to her hopes and dreams.

I got out of film school with a degree as a filmmaker, not as a writer. But It isn't until this year that I've dared attach myself to one of my scripts. I was working too hard just getting my pictures made at all. Now that my name's on a hit comedy, I feel comfortable attaching myself to my own low budget romantic comedy. But I also shot a short film (using grant money!) so people can have a comfort level with my directing. (And I can tell you some of the mistakes I made on the short, too.)

Climb the mountain one step at a time. Sure, from time to time, you may find a hidden escalator; be ready to take your shot whenever it comes. But if you come to a chasm, don't assume that you have miraculously been granted the ability to fly. If everyone is telling you, "don't go that way," maybe they know something.

This is hard advice to give, because there's nothing we all love as much as stories about people who held out against all the good advice. Sylvester Stallone, broke, turned down $100,000 for his script ROCKY, which he was insisting in starring in. He'd never had a starring role. He'd had roles like "Youth in Park" and "Mafioso" and he'd starred in some pornos. He held out, and the rest is stardom.

They don't tell you about the guys who were offered $100,000 and turned it down and that was it, that was their break, and they blew it.

They also don't tell you about the people who were probably telling Sly, "This is a freaking awesome script, man! And it's perfect for you! This is your shot! Don't let anyone else take it!!"

They don't tell you, because it's not a good story, about how most people put their careers together, little break by little break. The first script I rewrote for money, I was offered $1000. I have no regrets about taking that gig, even if they did stiff me for the last $200. I'm always asking my agent: is this a good project for me? Are these good people to work with?

Film is a collaborative medium. The writer has to collaborate with the director and the actor and the money. You can't collaborate unless you know how to listen.

Dreams on Spec

Dreams on Spec is a documentary about three aspiring screenwriters (spec monkeys as the scribosphere would have it) trying to break in, intercut with interviews with rich, successful pro monkeys, er, screenwriters. I haven't seen it, but maybe some of you will find it interesting. Site is here. Lemme know what you think.

In the News

Canucks, check out this Playback article:

The National Screen Institute - Canada is calling for filmmaking teams to apply to Features First 2007. The 10-month program offers sessions on script and story development, legal requirements, financing and more, all delivered by Canadian industry leaders.

Up to five teams will be selected. Selected teams do not have to pay tuition or relocate.

The Winnipeg institute [aims] to help emerging filmmakers advance their first or second feature film. Eleven of 33 projects developed by the program have been produced.

Teams must apply with a feature film script by Sept. 28. Visit www.nsi-canada.ca/featuresfirst for full details.

Oh, and I'm mentioned fleetingly in this Brendan Kelly Variety article about upcoming Canadian production.