One of the more frustrating things about screenwriting, or any artistic endeavor for that matter, is feeling like you’re so far away from the prize. You may live 10,000 miles away from Hollywood or be knee-deep in a screenplay you’ve run out of ideas for. Meanwhile, to waste time, you visit the trade sites, which bombard you with deal after deal being made by established and newbie writers alike. It creates the illusion that everybody in the world is succeeding except for you. And it’s in these moments that you ask yourself if it’s all worth it. Should you even bother trying?
Part of the problem is that writing is a solitary pursuit. You’re in your head a lot. You’re constantly going to negative places. So if you want to convince yourself that breaking into the industry is impossible, it doesn’t take a whole lot of googling to do so. There are plenty of articles to read with created-out-of-thin-air statistics (“Only 1 in every 100,000 screenplays gets produced!”) to support your Impossible To Succeed Theory.
Screenwriting is like any other pursuit. If you want to break through the studio gates, you need a plan. The more structured the plan, the more likely you are to succeed. I’ll never forget reading how Vin Diesel broke into acting. He was working as a bouncer at a club where the nightly conversation was about making sure you bought that week’s lottery ticket. It was so depressing. So Diesel put a plan to together. He would write, direct, and star in a short film that highlighted the kind of actor he wanted to be, he’d submit to Sundance, industry people would see it, they’d cast him in movies, he’d move to Hollywood, and his career would begin. What followed? Diesel made his movie, got it into Sundance, Spielberg saw it and cast him in Saving Private Ryan. It all happened! But what’s important to note here is that it wouldn’t have happened if Diesel hadn’t put together a plan in the first place.
So figure out what scripts you like to write, then figure out what movies Hollywood likes to make. See if there’s some crossover there, and start writing scripts in that overlapping section. Then address the boring stuff. Figure out how many scripts a year you can write. If you have two hours a day, aim for one script a year. If you have four hours, aim for two scripts a year. Retroactively set your schedule to make sure you’re writing enough each day so that you can finish three drafts by the time the six months are up. As crazy as it sounds, a lot of success is just math. Figure out what you need to do by when and then do it.
That’s all well and good, Carson. But how does this get me closer to breaking in? I don’t have 30 inch biceps and a Barry White voice. Well, this is where things get tricky. Because breaking in is not a straight line. There’s some zigging and zagging involved. But the strategy I endorse most is the BLANKET STRATEGY. Once you finish a script, you blanket your writing friends. You blanket script coverage services (Black List, Tracking Board, Individual). You blanket anybody you know in the industry. You blanket contests. You blanket website opportunities (like Amateur Offerings). You blanket people here in the comments section. You NEVER KNOW where that big opportunity is going to come from. But the more people you reach out to, the more opportunities you’ll have.
Earlier this year, a manager e-mailed me to ask if I’d read any good contained horror scripts lately. It just so happened that a few days earlier, I’d read a good contained horror script. I sent it over to him, he loved it, and he ended up representing the writer. Had the writer sent me his script three months later or that manager contacted me three months earlier, it probably wouldn’t have happened. Since you can’t account for that kind of timing, you have to be consistent. You have to keep getting material out there. You have to keep letting people know what you’re working on. Sooner or later, the stars are going to align and a connection will be made.
On the contrary, if you’re one of these super-secretive writers who doesn’t tell anyone what you’re working on and then, every two years, finishes a script before unleashing it on all of two people… I guarantee you you will not succeed. You need to be more prolific. The most common way to break in is persistence. It’s writing something, it’s getting it out there, it’s getting feedback, and if that script isn’t good enough, it’s writing another script, it’s getting it out there, it’s getting feedback…. Over and over again.
A common misperception is that a good script will get a “Yes” every time. While a good script has a much better chance than a bad script at getting a “Yes,” there are still things that can get in the way. It may not be that reader’s cup of tea. It may not be what that producer is looking for right now. If you’re a newbie, an established agent might not want to put in the legwork required to get you to a place where you’re making money for him.
Everybody in town said no to American Sniper. Everybody in town said no to Dallas Buyers Club. Everybody said no to Anchorman (New Line sent Will Ferrel an e-mail saying that if he ever sent the script to them again, they would never work with him as an actor). Hell, Disney said no to Back to the Future – Back to the freaking Future! – because of its “incest” storyline. But they eventually all got made. I guess what I’m saying is, since even a good script can get a no in certain situations, not to let your script be definitively labeled by one person. Try the next guy, and the next guy, and the next guy. And hey, if all the next guys hate your script, that’s okay too. Figure out what’s not working and make sure you don’t make the same mistakes on the next script. “But Carson, that takes a long time.” No shit. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. The people who become successful at this are in it for the long haul.
A couple of final points. If you’re new to this, the chances that your first, second, or third script is going to break you into the industry is small. I’m not saying it can’t be done. But it probably won’t. I tell you this so you that don’t get discouraged. Remember, the name of the game is persistence. Anything that happens with those first three scripts is a gift. But it won’t be until you get your fifth and sixth scripts behind you that you’ll really start to cook.
And what if you have been persistent and you still haven’t broken in? What if you’ve been at this 7, 10, even 15 years and you’re still on the outside? Okay, the advice I’m about to give you will not be easy to hear. But if you’re serious about succeeding, listen up. If you’ve been screenwriting for 10-15 years and you’re still nowhere near being a professional, you’re doing one of two things wrong. You’re not aware of the weaknesses in your writing or you’re not selling yourself hard enough.
In regards to the first one, you need to do a HARD STOP. Take your fingers off the keyboard. Instead, get your latest script to some people you trust – it could be a friend or writing group member or even me – and say this line: “I need you to give me brutally honest notes. Do not spare my feelings. I want to get better at this and the only way that’s going to happen is if I get 100% honest feedback.” I’m willing to bet that the feedback you receive from these people will be consistent. And that’s a great thing. Because you can finally face reality and take the steps towards addressing these weaknesses. For the record, the most common mistakes I see long time struggling writers making is that their concepts are lame or their character work is bad.
In regards to the second one – not pushing your material hard enough – look, no one said this was easy. I know that most writers are introverted people. But these days almost all initial contact is done digitally. You don’t have excuses anymore. I can’t stress this enough: If you’re only sending your script out to a few people every year, you’ll never succeed. I can pretty much guarantee that. Get out there, man! Form a writing group with people here. Stop being afraid to have your script publicly read on Amateur Offerings. Sign up for a local screenwriting class so you can meet other screenwriters (and professors, who usually have contacts). Cold e-mail medium level management and production companies (the big ones won’t talk to you yet). Enter the big contests. I get that none of this stuff is fun. You’d rather be writing. But do you want to succeed at this or don’t you? Because it’s not going to happen unless you’re getting your material out there on a consistent basis. They can’t say yes if they’ve never read it.
