Genre: Action/Adventure
Logline (from writer): After jumping ship on a remote island, a sailor must escape from his new captors, a fabled tribe of cannibals named the Typee.
Why You Should Read: “Typee” was Herman Melville’s best-selling book in his life time, NOT Moby Dick. The story was a hit with audiences because it was written by a man who “lived with the cannibals.” Yet for some reason, Hollywood has continued to overlook this hidden gem, which has everything a big cinematic movie needs: unique setting, high stakes, lovable characters, mystery, twist and turns, and a dramatic ending. The truth is no one really knows about this book. Moby Dick will always reign supreme as the iconic Melville text, but Typee deserves some love, too. It would make a much better movie! — There was one big theme I noticed throughout the book: identity. During his adventures on the island, the main character always walks a fine line between engaging in the native cultural and rejecting it outright. He is afraid of losing his western identity, yet he is forced by his captors to participate in the rituals and ways of the Typee. I used this as a central point of conflict in the script. — One last thing. This script has a lot of what I call “Oh, shit!” moments. You know, when you’re reading a script and something crazy happens and you say “Oh, shit!” out loud. I really worked to put these moments in there because the original text didn’t have enough of them. There’s one particular “Oh, shit!” at the end of Act II that you really shouldn’t miss.
Writer: Kent Sariano (based on the novel, “Typee: A Peep Into Polynesian Life” by Herman Melville).
Details: 104 pages

I loved this pitch. Who would’ve thought that Moby Dick, one of the greatest novels of all time, wasn’t even Herman Melville’s best selling book when he was alive? Throw some cannibals into the mix and of course I’m hungry to find out more.

The year is 1841. 23 year old Tom is a deck hand on a whaling ship (write what you know, I guess!) that’s ruled over by a power hungry first mate named Hall. Hall has his sights set on making Tom’s experience as miserable as possible, always having him do extra work and calling him, “Thomasina” to embarrass him in front of the crew.

Tom’s lone ally is 18 year old Toby, an eager newbie who’s keen on making a good impression. Despite the danger in associating with Tom, Toby is always there for him, even when he gets whipped in front of the crew for publicly challenging Hall.

When their ship reaches a Polynesian island and the crew is given a few days to play, Tom and Toby hatch a plan to hide out in the island’s center in order to get away from Hall, figuring they’ll catch the next ship that comes along. One problem. There are rumors that this island houses a tribe of cannibals known as the Typee.

Cannibals? Hall? Both the same as far as Tom is concerned. So he and Toby venture into the island where they, indeed, meet this mysterious Polynesian tribe. Toby freaks out, tries to run, and pays the ultimate price for it – he’s killed.

Tom, injured from earlier, has no choice but to stay with the group. And you know what? They aren’t so bad. The tribe’s King, Mehevi, takes a liking to Tom, and helps him learn the ways of the Typee, namely how to hunt. Also, Mehevi warns Tom of their rival tribe, the Hapaar, who are constantly threatening war with the Typee.

Tom falls in love with a Typee woman and is on good terms with almost all of the residents. But as interesting as these people are, Tom longs to go home to America. Unfortunately, his buddy Mehevi won’t let him. Which means if Tom’s going to get away, he’ll have to escape. Tom knows that his plan will need to be perfect. Because it if fails, the Typee will kill him. Or worse.

I can see why this won. The writing is slick. It’s succinct yet also descriptive. You usually only get one or the other. Not only that, but we jump right into things. We’re on a ship. Conflict is thrown at us in the form of Tom battling Hall. I was drawn in immediately.

But as the script made its way into the second act (when we get to the island) I noticed that something was missing. The storytelling was becoming too casual. For example, instead of building up the mysterious horror of our looming cannibalistic tribe, we learn about them through some random deck hand who informs us of their existence as casually as one might give directions. “Are we making port?” “Aye. We are. But it’s an island of cannibals.”

We needed some mystery. We needed to get to that moniker – cannibalism – gradually. To throw the word out there so haphazardly sapped it of all of its power.

Also, it didn’t make sense why Tom and Toby would head directly towards the cannibals. Cannibals are dangerous, right? So why are we walking towards them? I get that they wanted to hide from Hall, but surely there’s a better plan than hiding amongst cannibals.

Toby’s death happens way too easily. This was a major character, a likable character, and his death doesn’t even occur on screen.

From there, it took me awhile to understand what kind of movie I was watching. I was promised cannibals, but instead I got Dances with Wolves – a film about fitting in with an unfamiliar culture. It wasn’t bad. And Melville provides plenty of conflict (there’s a frustrated Typee second-in-command who wants to kill Tom). But I couldn’t help but feel that I was a victim of false advertising. Where’s the cannibalizing???

Towards the end, we finally get what we’ve waited for (Cannibal Time!). But it wasn’t as exciting as we’d hoped. It’s simply Tom sitting down and eating human meat with the tribe. This might have been a fine plot point 100 years ago. But today? It needed to be bigger. I would’ve kept Toby alive and maybe they cook and eat Toby while he’s still conscious. Lol. That’s pretty sick but I mean, come on! It’s a movie about cannibals. You need to deliver “that scene,” that perfect cannibal moment that an audience never forgets.

The key to fixing this script is to add bigger plot developments throughout the story and deliver more on the promise of the premise. I mean, I was promised this big “Oh shit!” moment at the end of the second act, but I’m still not sure what moment Kent is referring to. Is it when Tom eats human flesh? That’s not big enough for today’s audiences.

And then there’s Hall. What a great villain! Yet we never get the satisfaction of taking him down. Once we leave the boat, the character is gone for good. Why not have Hall and his men come looking for Tom. It would provide you with an opportunity to close his story arc. Hell, he’d be a perfect candidate for Tom’s first cannibal feast.

Some of you might be wondering if it’s okay to radically change plot points like this. My experience has been that the further back in history and the more obscure the material, the more leniency you have. I’ve never met anyone who’s read Typee. It’s the first time I’d heard of it myself. So I think it falls under the category of “obscure enough” to make changes. Hell, Alex Garland changed tons of plot points in Annihilation, and that book was written less than a decade ago.

Writing was good here. But the script never leaves 3rd gear. You need to step on the gas more, Kent!

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: A good pitch doesn’t alway mean selling your concept. A good pitch can be any fun fact or piece of information that creates curiosity in the reader. Sometimes that means finding the story surrounding the story, which is what Sariano did here. That one factoid – Melville had a book that outsold Moby Dick – convinced me to give this a shot.

We experience one of the most critical battles of World War 2, Dunkirk, from three different perspectives – on land, on sea, and in air.

A confused and frustrated Catholic School senior seeks to escape the boring town she grew up in and do something important with her life, all while coming of age.

Born with a facial deformity, a young boy is thrown into the biggest challenge of his life, going to public school.

A mother living in a small town erects three billboards that taunt the local sheriff into doing more to find the man who raped and killed her daughter.

A Navy SEAL sniper who attains hero status due to his legendary kill count on the battlefield struggles to find peace when he returns home from war.

The above loglines represent five films that either achieved commercial success, critical success, or both. However, if any of these loglines appeared on Amateur Offerings, I fear that they’d be ripped apart. Dunkirk sounds like a movie. But where are the characters? Lady Bird sounds like every coming-of-age movie ever. Wonder has the best setup of the five, but who’s going to make a movie about a kid with a facial deformity? Three Billboards doesn’t sound bad, I guess. But it feels like there’s something missing. And American Sniper sounds like every shitty “back from war” movie ever made.

The reason I bring these loglines up is because while we’re all searching for that perfect movie idea, the concept that’s tailor-made for a logline, the reality is that most script ideas don’t fit perfectly into a logline, or at least the logline Hollywood would prefer that we write.

For example, a logline LOVES a single hero. It loves when you can start with: “An archaeologist who moonlights as a tomb raider…” But what happens when your movie doesn’t follow a single character? What if you’re writing a logline for an ensemble, like the movie, “It?” Since you can’t describe every single character, you have to describe the group. This automatically forces you to be more general (“A group of misfits…”), which increases the chances of the logline sounding generic. What we tend to forget in the world of writing is that every story is unique. And therefore, each will have its own challenges when being summarized into logline form.

Hopefully I can make that process easier for you. Every logline has what I call “hotspots.” If you get the hotspots right, you increase the chances of the logline making an impact. What are hotspots? Well, the goal with every logline is to be SPECIFIC. The more specific you are, the more you’re highlighting what’s UNIQUE about your idea. There’s a problem with being specific, however. It leads to a longer logline. And the longer the logline, the uglier it reads. This presents the writer with a contradictory task. They must write something simple and quick, yet fill it with detail.

This is where hotspots come in. A hotspot is a point in the logline where important story information is being conveyed. There are three hotspots. They are:

1) The main character.
2) Major story beats.
3) The conflict.

The first one should be obvious. Whenever you describe your main character, you want to give us one or two adjectives (sometimes more) that make them specific. So you wouldn’t say, “A man attempts to resurrect his career…”. You would say, “A failed actor attempts to resurrect his career…”. Notice how much more you know about our character in the second example.

As for the second hotspot – major story beats – this is anywhere in your logline where you’re highlighting a major story development. There will usually be one of these in the logline, but there could be two, and sometimes even three. One of easiest ways to fail logline school is to not include any major story beats in your logline. Go back and look at my logline for American Sniper. There’s no major story beat included. The closest we get is “he comes back home from the war.” Talk about generic, right? No wonder the movie sounds so boring.

For those of you confused why I’m bashing a movie that made 300 million dollars at the box office, keep in mind that the logline was meaningless for that project. The movie was a success because everyone in middle America loved Chris Kyle and wanted to see a movie about him. But I’m getting off track.

Let’s use the logline from Molly’s Game to demonstrate what a major story beat is. “A former Harvard grad begins running a successful private poker game but finds her life turned upside-down when the FBI busts her for tax evasion.” The major story beat is “begins running a successful private poker game.” If you’ve seen the movie, you know that the logline is majorly underselling that point. Hence, we need to be more specific. How bout, “begins running Los Angeles’s premiere underground celebrity poker game.”

Bonus Tip: Loglines love words like, “Premiere,” the “biggest,” “greatest,” “all-time,” “most dominant.” The best stories are about extremes. So these words will serve you well.

My rewrite of that story beat seems obvious in retrospect. But I can’t tell you how many boring loglines I’ve read because writers weren’t able to sell those major story beat hotspots.

The third hotspot – the conflict – is the trickiest. This is because the resolution of your logline isn’t the resolution of your screenplay. It’s the main conflict in your screenplay. In other words, you don’t finish the Silence of the Lambs logline with, “And then Clarice kills Buffalo Bill and saves the girl.” You finish it with, “attempts to find the warped killer before he can finish the job.” The conflict in a logline is its resolution, and therefore will be what you finish your logline with.

Since there’s a whole lot to take in here, let’s use a lifeless logline as an example and apply our hotspot technology to beef it up:

A black man accused of killing a white cop goes on trial.

Okay, so this idea has potential. Let’s start with the first hot spot. “A black man.” That doesn’t tell us much. We need SPECIFICITY here. Notice how if we change it to, “A black law student with a checkered past,” the story already begins to take on new life. Now we know something about this “man.”

“Accused of killing a white cop.” This is a major story beat. Yet it doesn’t paint a picture. We need to dress it up. How bout instead we go with, “Accused of killing a white cop during a routine traffic stop.” (this is assuming this actually happens in your script of course)

Finally we have, “goes on trial.” This is one of the WORST logline mistakes I see writers make. They provide tons of detail in both the character and the major story beats. Then they tinkle out the conflict with so little conviction, it destroys any chance of a reader wanting to read the screenplay. The ending of a logline, which is you highlighting the script’s major conflict, should land with a bang. How bout, “must argue his own case in a predominantly white community determined to make an example of him.”

So let’s look at our new logline…

A black law student with a checkered past accused of killing a white cop during a routine traffic stop must argue his own case in a predominantly white community determined to make an example of him.

Now you’re probably looking at this and saying, “Whoa Carson. That’s REALLY detailed.” That’s fine. Once you get your hotspots down, you do the same thing you do when you finish a script: YOU CUT. That means you make choices about which details are most important to convey your story. The idea is to consolidate five words into two here. Three words into one there. Try and make it snappier

This might leave you with…

A black law student accused of killing a white cop during a traffic stop must argue his own case in front of a white community determined to make an example of him.

This isn’t perfect. And the nature of logines is that you’ll keep fiddling with them until you get it right. But as you can see, we’re already in a much better place than we were with our original logline.

One final note. Every logline has a ceiling based on how good the concept is. Even the worst version of Jurassic Park’s logline is going to be better than the best version of Lady Bird’s. But if you have a strong main character and a compelling main conflict, you should be able to write a good logline. Just make sure you’re adding detail to those hotspots.

It’s time for another, “Why Isn’t My Script Getting Picked for Amateur Offerings?!” As always, these posts are not meant to humiliate, but rather to educate writers on why their scripts aren’t getting chosen. I’m hoping my explanations act as insight for fellow screenwriters who recognize some of these flaws in their own entries, as well as help writers querying others in the business.

As a bonus, so this isn’t a total Negative Nancy post, please vote for the one script submission you like most in the comments section and I’ll include it in the next Amateur Offerings. Hopefully one of these writers will end up proving me wrong.

ENTRY #1: OUTSIDER DREAMING

SIDENOTE FOR CARSON: I sincerely apologize if I’ve been a bit overwhelming in how often I’ve submitted this. In my first submissions (The Onus of Inspiration and Disbelief) I was immediately given a chance at AOW, while with this re-submission I’ve had very little response. I understand that you do accept re-submissions after the script’s gone through some considerable changes, and I’m hoping this has changed enough to be eligible.

TITLE: Outsider Dreaming

GENRE: Satire

LOGLINE: When two film buff roommates in Washington state become inspired to each make their own movies, conflicting drives of quality and expediency form a rivalry between them. The future of both of their films is put in jeopardy as they question how much they value their differing ideas of artistic integrity.

WYSR: I’m Liam McNeal, a 21-year-old aspiring filmmaker from Washington state. I’ve previously had two screenplays on AOW, one being the earlier draft of this screenplay. Though the original version, titled The Onus of Inspiration, was not accepted for Amateur Friday, I did learn a great deal from the comments despite my knee-jerk objections. The title was changed, the page count was decreased, thus making the story more entertaining and interesting. This is the screenplay I’ve written that I’m most proud of and most excited about. It’s my most personal screenplay, and obviously, I feel it’s the best. I’ve been inspired by countless writers and filmmakers, and I believe that comes across on the page. This story should be one that speaks to the heart of many screenwriters, and I hope you enjoy it. I’m about to start work on the next draft, so I’d appreciate as much feedback as I can get.

Why It Hasn’t Been Picked: I like the tone of this query. It’s very professional. I get the sense that the writer is serious about the craft and eager to learn more, which is more than I can say for a lot of writers who submit. But there are a few reasons why I’m not choosing this. The first is that I don’t love re-submissions. I don’t think the readers of the site do either. In this business, for better or worse, it’s all about the “new hot thing.” So if you’re serving a dish of leftovers, people aren’t going to be as excited. This is why you should wait until your script is SUPER READY to submit (not just to Scriptshadow, to everywhere) – cause you probably won’t get a second chance.

On top of that, I’m not thrilled about the concept. It feels like one of those scripts that’s going to get lost in how clever it’s trying to be. And when I see “21 year old,” that only confirms that suspicion. Most writers at 21 lack the sophistication to write a tight well-told story. That’s not to say it doesn’t happen. But every producer in town would say the same thing. The quick lesson here is that I can’t judge your age if you don’t tell it to me. But the bigger lesson is to keep producing new material.

ENTRY #2: DWELLING

Title: Dwelling

Genre: Erotic Horror

Logline: A couple moves into a house to continue working on their marriage, but their presence upsets a neighbour and her relationship with the demon that dwells within the house.

WYSR: Last year, I got burnt out while trying to develop a horror feature. In the end, the story was unclear, because it continued to change as I used the script to work through issues in my personal life.

I still love the character and that story, but it was my first script and if I hadn’t given up, I wouldn’t have moved on and discovered shorts; where my writing really developed. I also wouldn’t have the ongoing success from two comedies I wrote, while taking a much needed break from horror.

When I returned to horror and subsequently wrote Dwelling, I came with a simple story idea and the experience and positive feedback from having written over a dozen shorts in varying genres.

I love erotic thrillers and erotic horror. If you like either or both, maybe you’ll enjoy Dwelling.

Why It Hasn’t Been Picked: I’m immediately on guard when someone creates a genre that doesn’t officially exist. “Erotic Horror.” That’s a sub-genre if anything, and not one that I know to be official. Now some of you may say, “C’mon Carson. Why are you being so nit-picky?” Here’s something you have to understand, guys. I’ve seen EVERYTHING. I’ve seen every query, every logline, every script. And there are assumptions you can draw from certain patterns. They don’t ALWAYS end up being true. That’s why I said, “I’m immediately on guard,” and not, “I know for sure the script sucks.” But because past experience has indicated this is going to be a problem, I’m “on guard” moving forward into the query.

The logline is shaky. A couple moves into a house and is working on their marriage. Okay, that’s fine. Then their presence upsets a neighbor who’s in a relationship with a demon? That’s confusing. Does this demon live in our couple’s house or the neighbor’s house? Cause I don’t think either works well. If the demon is in the other house, who cares? They’re not a threat. If the demon is in the couple’s house, then how is the neighbor in a relationship with it? A logline should be clear and easy to understand. This one leaves me with a ton of questions. When I see that the writer has only started writing last year, that was the nail in the coffin. If you’ve been writing for one year, your scripts aren’t ready for primetime. At least that’s what every producer, agent, manager and Scriptshadow will think. Another reason to NOT TELL US how old you are or how long you’ve been writing.

ENTRY #3: THE HOUSE ON SNARE LANE

I hope you’re doing well.

I’d be delighted if you’d consider my new feature script for a slot in an upcoming Amateur Offerings weekend.

It’s already had three Scriptshadow contributors work over previous drafts and offer invaluable advice, so I’d love to see how it fares against the wider community.

Title: That House On Snare Lane

Genre: Coming of age drama

Logline: Four eleven-year-old friends investigate the only supposedly haunted house in town and uncover a mystery that could save a family.

Why you should read: Last year you wrote two articles that especially struck a chord with me. The first was a list of movies that Hollywood would like to make a new version of (not a reboot, but an original new movie that captures a similar spirit to that existing movie). The second was about the power of ‘anchoring’ elements of your screenplay in your own experience. So, here’s my take on number 6 on your list – Stand By Me, anchored to an experience in my own childhood but extrapolated … and with a sprinkle of magic added because, well, the movies should be magical, right?

Thanks for the consideration, and for everything you do with your site – it’s a constant inspiration to me.

If you should come to read the script, I hope you enjoy it.

Why It Hasn’t Been Picked: To be honest, I put this one on the back burner for a potential future Amateur Offerings. But I can tell you why I didn’t pick it initially. The logline has zero spark. There weren’t any, what I call, “original elements,” that set it apart from other ideas. A haunted house. Kids. A mystery that “could save a family.” That’s about as generically as you could describe the stakes as possible. This logline needs more specificity. It needs detail. It needs elements that help it stand out. Maybe you guys can help the writer in the comments. Or they can e-mail me (carsonreeves1@gmail.com). Logline consultations for just $25! :)

ENTRY #4: ZOMBIE SIMULATOR

ZOMBIE SIMULATOR

GENRE
Horror comedy

LOGLINE
When you get close to 40, you’re supposed to be a responsible adult; instead you’re a zombie, yet conscious, and controlled by a counter-revolutionary group of video gaming teenagers who don’t care how bad all this decadence and violence makes you look.

WHY YOU SHOULD READ
Isn’t it time someone solved the issue of how to tell a story in the first person? What if this script is the one? You won’t know unless you read it. At its core, though, it’s a story about personal responsibility, adulthood, and dealing with one’s shit. Hey, I told you it was a horror movie. Hopefully you get a few laughs, some big surprises, and the feeling that this story was worth telling, and impossible to tell without the “gimmick”. If you have issues with it, or know how to make it better, I’ll be listening avidly. I’d love all your perspectives on it.

Why It Hasn’t Been Picked: Because I’ve read the logline almost 10 times now and I still don’t completely understand it. When you’re 40, you turn into a zombie? Why? Not only that, but you also become controlled by teenagers playing a video game? How did you get in the game? Once you turn 40, are you automatically transported? Or have you always been in the game? There are also random unnecessary phrases (counter-revolutionary) that only add to the confusion. Then, only once we hit the WYSR do we learn that the movie is told from a first-person perspective. That’s a pretty important detail. Shouldn’t it be in the logline? When I finish a logline, there should be a sense of clarity, of understanding exactly what movie I’m getting. This logline achieves the opposite.

ENTRY #5: “THREE SCRIPTS FOR THE PRICE OF ONE”

WHY YOU SHOULD READ
In an effort to become an actual screenwriter, rather than just talking about it, I took a step back and had a serious look at my goal and why I hadn’t achieved it yet. The conclusion that I came to was that I simply wasn’t writing enough. One script a year (sometimes two) is no where near enough content. If Max Landis worked at this pace he would be just another desk jockey, whining about how Hollywood is unfair. Instead, he writes dozens of scripts a year, throws them all at the wall and hopes that one or two stick. This is my new approach.

Also, in reading this site, I have come to the conclusion that good writing is second when it comes to breaking into this business. What comes first is a good story. If you have a good idea, then that’s really all the matters. Hollywood will buy said idea rather then see it fall into someone else’s hands — bad writing be damned! The only way to come up with good ideas is to burn through the bad ones. This bring me back to my original point i.e. writing as much as I can!

I wrote these three scripts over a period of three months (with a fourth well on the way). And I will continue to write at this pace until something ‘sticks’.

*

Title: The Dead of Winter

Genre: Horror/Psychological Thriller

Page Count: 106 pages

Logline: When a military brat gets sent to an isolated boarding school in the middle of the worst winter the school has ever experienced, he becomes suspicious when the naughty students begin disappearing, and even more so when no one seems to care.
Why You Should Read:

Personally I never read the WYSR section of the amateur offerings. I find the readers always over exaggerate their scripts, and this usually just sets the script up for failure before I even begin reading it. So I’m not going to beat around the bush here with explanations as to why you should read mine.

The fact is this is a horror/psychological thriller set in an isolated boarding school in the middle of winter. It has kids disappearing, teachers covering it up and a student that may or may not be losing his mind the closer he gets to discovering the truth. If that doesn’t interest you then this script just isn’t for you, no matter how well written it is (and you may also hate movies, so for that I’m sorry).

*

Title: Saving Neverland

Genre: Action/Adventure

Page Count: 117 pages

Logline: A re-imagining of Peter Pan. When Mary Darling is forced by a suspicious character with a hook for a hand to track down a special key that unlocks the path to Neverland, things take an odd turn when a group of teenage boys with swords also turn up looking for that same key.

Why You Should Read: First of all, let me apologize for submitting a Peter Pan script. As I’ve been told already, no one is after this subject matter anymore. I for one can’t understand why that is, as Peter Pan to me has always been like the original superhero, and his popularity in film just makes sense (especially considering today’s film climate). But who am I to tell people what they should and shouldn’t like?

But let me pitch an idea to you. What if… and hear me out on this one… what if this script was picked up my Disney and turned into a Pirates of the Caribbean film? Outrageous I know and by no means my original intention. In fact when I first wrote this four years ago it was just an ordinary action/adventure script. But I recently reopened it and thought that a re-write in the vein of Pirates made sense (purely from a genre perspective). The more I rewrote this script the more I could see it being rewritten again and tailored toward a Pirates film. Is this my ultimate ambition? Not really, but a boy can dream. So please give it a read, try and ignore your hate for Pan and tell me what you think.

*

Title: Masters of Rome

Genre: ‘One Hour TV Pilot’ – Historical Drama

Page Count: 59

Logline: Based on the bestselling Masters of Rome series by Colleen Mccullough. When Rome is threatened by war, political novice Gaius Marius must learn how to defeat his rivals in the Senate if he is to have any chance of leading a Roman army in the field and saving his city from certain destruction.

Why You Should Read:

Rome pretty much invented political drama. I mean, this was a period in history when Senators got into literal fist fights during Senate meetings. Combined this with the most turbulent time in all of Roman history — when the great city state was transforming from a Republic to an Empire — and add into the mix some of the biggest names in Roman history (Gaius Marius, Cornelius Sulla, King Jugurtha), and you have the makings of one of the greatest drama ever told – and it’s all true!

The Masters of Rome series is an exercise in deft storytelling. It is without a doubt my favorite book series of all time, and a story that I think would make excellent television. I’m also an Ancient History major, so I can attest to the accuracy of the story told, and this is something that I believe makes it even more riveting.

I in no way have the rights to this series, but I wanted to write a pilot anyway just to see if I could and to see how it would turn out. I was pleased to find out it turned out rather well.

Why They Haven’t Been Picked: I chose this query specifically because the writer seems like a really good guy and I want to help him. Early on in your screenwriting journey, you get a lot of advice coming from a lot of different directions and it can be hard to sort out which path is the right path to travel down. That confusion is evident in this query. For starters, you never want to submit three scripts. Or two for that matter. It’s the equivalent of saying, “I’m throwing a bunch of shit at the wall to see what sticks.” There’s ALWAYS a best script in your arsenal. It’s usually the last one you wrote. So that’s the only one you should be sending out (unless the agent/producer asks you for more scripts). — The idea driven by Max Landis’s success that you should be churning out 5-6 scripts a year is also incorrect. Writing a good script takes time. At least six months. More likely a year. If you’re just practicing writing, write as many script as you want. But if you’re writing material that’s meant to be seen, you should aim for 2 scripts a year. So I’d tell this writer to keep at it. Mastering this craft is a marathon, not a sprint. The people who think it’s a sprint always fail. Even Max Landis, who was ignored for 8 years, would admit that. Good luck!

Last week, a commenter brought up a concern that I hear a lot from screenwriters. He was upset that A Quiet Place did so well at the box office when it so clearly cheated its way through its second half.

For starters, a noise-making machine (a newborn baby) was thrown into the mix with zero consequence. Also, there was no reason to go save the kids at the end. They’d been trained to deal with this situation and knew what to do. Or someone brought up (spoiler) that the dad sacrifices himself by screaming when he could’ve easily hurled his axe at the nearby tool shed, which would’ve made just as much noise, and gotten all three family members out of there safely.

The writer was making the argument that Hollywood allows professional writers way more rope than amateurs. Huge gaps in logic are overlooked if you’ve got an IMDB page. Whereas if you’re an amateur, you get points docked if your slugline isn’t formatted properly. I’m sure all of you have felt this way at one point or another: “Why do they get to get away with it but I don’t?”

Before I answer that, I want to say that this is a terrible attitude to have in general. You’re playing the victim. And when you play the victim, you subconsciously build a narrative where success is unlikely. You’ve convinced yourself that an evil system is keeping you down. And therefore, you will do your best to live up to that scenario. So my first piece of advice would be to NEVER blame anyone for your lack of success other than yourself. If it’s all you, that means you have the power to fix the problem and change your circumstances. If it’s all on the system, there’s nothing you can do so you might as well quit.

Now, I can unequivocally say that nobody in Hollywood is personally targeting you. Nobody says, “Oh, they’re just Amateur Screenwriter X. Therefore, nothing they ever write is good enough.” Hollywood doesn’t care about who you are. All they care about is making money or winning awards. That’s it. If your script can bring them one of those two things, you could be the homeless man who stands outside my supermarket every morning asking me if I want to join him on a trip to Neptune and they will still buy your screenplay.

As for the technical answer to your question, I want you to write down this mathematical formula: Scripts are graded on the INVERSE RELATIONSHIP between the quality of the concept and the quality of the execution. What that means is that the less impressive a concept is, the more impressive the execution needs to be.

So if you’re not getting good reactions, you’re probably failing in one of those two areas. In other words, your “A Quiet Place” equivalent concept didn’t sink because readers are judging your mistakes more harshly than they do professionals. It sunk because your concept was inferior to A Quiet Place, and therefore your execution (plot holes and such) was being graded more harshly.

This leads us into a larger conversation about concept. Concept, while not as big as it used to be, is still king in the spec world. I’m not talking about the adaptation world, where writers are getting paid before they write the script. I’m talking about the spec world, where the idea alone must stand out enough to get the attention of people with money to spend. And this is where things get a little confusing. If a concept is super-awesome – there’s something clearly special about it – that is the one time a producer will abandon their concern about subpar execution and take a chance on the material, as they believe they’ll be able to hire their writers to fix it.

This is why, sometimes, you’ll read a script with a big flashy concept that’s poorly executed and wonder why someone bought it. It’s because a producer loved the idea, knew they could market it, and figured they’d fix the script problems along the way. These are the sales that confuse aspiring screenwriters the most because they can’t understand how a script that’s so poorly executed sold. Well, now you know.

But getting back to what we can control, if your script isn’t clicking with people, either the concept is lame or the execution is bad. And if you want to know which of these two is more important, it’s the concept. That’s because you don’t need to nail the execution to get people in the theater on that critical first weekend.

Now, let’s assume that your concept is decent but not great. This means you have to nail your execution to have a shot. But what does “execution” mean? That’s a pretty broad term. Execution includes everything from plot to theme to dialogue to structure. However, the number 1 thing producers and agents are talking about when they mention “execution” is the characters and the relationships.

Do we feel something for these people? That’s the big one. Because if we do, that acts as a deodorant for plot and logic holes. Keep in mind that while we assess screenwriting daily here, the average audience member has no idea how screenplays work. All they know is how the script makes them feel. And if they feel positively towards the characters, they won’t notice plot holes as much.

Nowhere is this more evident than in A Quiet Place. The writers and Krasinski made us fall in love with that family early on using a combination of intense loss (losing their son) and intense conflict (how that loss has driven a wedge between key members of the family).

We’ve gone through such a range of emotions by the end of that movie that unless you’re a screenwriting geek who visits Scriptshadow, you don’t consider the fact that the dad could’ve thrown the axe at the shed and stayed alive in the process. All you’re thinking is, “How is everyone going to make it out of this okay?” And that’s what your job is as a screenwriter. It isn’t to create the PERFECT illusion. That’s not possible. It’s to create just enough of an illusion that the audience buys into the moment. And nailing the characters is the secret to covering up plot and logic holes.

So don’t whine. Don’t blame others. Don’t be a victim. If you want to sell a script, control what you can control. Get better at concept creation. Get better at character development. And get better at relationship development. If you get those three things right, you don’t have to be perfect with the other stuff. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. I’m not advocating writing a sloppy script. But if you can get those three things right, that’s what’s most important. Good luck and happy writing!

Genre: Contained Thriller/Drama + Mystery Genre
Premise: (from Black List) A seemingly progressive suburban husband and wife renting their garage through AirBnB become suspicious of their Muslim guests. As they investigate their visitors, they unwittingly trigger events that will forever change the course of human history.
About: This script finished on last year’s Black List with 8 votes. The co-writers, Travis Betz and Kevin Hamedani, have both written and directed their own work. However it’s mostly low-budget stuff you haven’t heard of before.
Writers: Travis Betz & Kevin Hamedani
Details: 113 pages

Zoe Kravitz for Kim?

When you get to the bottom of the Black List, you start encountering some dicey material. I mean, there is actually a script called, “Jihotties.” Want to know what it’s about? Okay, I’ll tell you. It’s about two women who catfish ISIS to “fund their startup” but get “more than they bargained for” when they’re recruited by the CIA as spies. Yeah, I don’t see myself reading that one anytime soon.

It’s always a risk when you get to the bottom of the barrel. But The Saviors sounded like it maybe possibly wasn’t bad.

Sean and Kim Harrison (a mixed couple, him white, her black) may still be living under the same roof. But their marriage is over. It’s gotten so ugly that every night Sean goes to sleep, he has weird nightmares of his wife divorcing him then walking outside into a desert wasteland.

A big problem is that Sean doesn’t have a job. That financial stress has widened cracks that already existed in the relationship. Luckily, he has a temporary idea. Turn the garage into an AirBnB!

This leads to their first tenants, Jahan and Amir Razi, muslim siblings who need a place to stay for 10 days while the house they’re moving into is being cleaned. Amir seems like a totally cool guy whereas Jahan is deaf and therefore stays in the background.

Right away, things get weird. Late at night a loud rumbling comes from the garage followed by a giant flash of blue light. This makes Sean curious, and because he doesn’t have anything else to do during the day, he does his best impression of Jimmy Stewart and starts watching the Razis.

Later, he accidentally opens up a package sent to Amir (he thought it was his) and finds blueprints to something. With the Vice-President doing a high-profile deal in the Seattle Space Needle next week, Sean becomes convinced that these AirB&B’ers are actually AirB&T’ers. As in T stands for Terrorists!

When he comes to Kim with his findings, she’s furious with him. She’s spent much of her life being discriminated against because of the color of her skin. She’s not going to do the same to other people.

But when Sean brings Kim evidence that the two lied about their future home, Kim starts to come around. The act of teaming up even puts a spark back into their marriage. But as the Razis start acting weirder and weirder, the two begin to wonder if this is a terrorist act or… god forbid… something worse.

I liked how this script started out, particularly after yesterday’s stinker, which took ages for anything to happen. This script is written more traditionally, with Jahan and Amir acting strange from the drop. Which means we’re pretty much hooked by page 10.

And I loved the choice to make this a broken marriage. If Sean and Kim had a perfect marriage, there’s no conflict in their interactions, and there’s no subtext either. That last one’s an advanced tip for you aspiring screenwriters. Because Sean and Kim have a broken marriage, when Sean brings to Kim his suspicions about the tenants, it’s not just some surface level disagreement. Each argument contains within it an unspoken argument about their marriage. That makes their conversations way more interesting.

There’s also POPULATION going on here. Populating your script is the act of adding subplots or extra characters or detail that FILLS UP YOUR SCRIPT. Yesterday’s script was the anti-population script. Absolutely NOTHING was going on other than advertised (the house being haunted), leaving the story feeling incredibly thin.

These two are getting divorced, which means they’re selling the house. The problem is, the basement ceiling has major water damage. Which means they need a quote. And once they get the quote, they find out it’s too much. And now they need to find a solution. So Sean is always consumed by that problem. It seems minor, but populating your script with these extra elements is what makes it feel like a FULLY REALIZED movie, and not just a one-sentence idea that’s been padded to death.

Everything was going so well on my Saviors flight that I didn’t even consider we might hit turbulence.

And then we hit turbulence.

The script started to get goofy. For example, Kim, who’s frustrated that Sean is acting so racist, decides to go to a bar to blow off steam. When she gets there, she sees that Amir is also there, in the corner! But not only that, he’s stolen and is reading her diary!

I’m sorry but diary-reading twists should not be present in a movie about terrorism. Save that one for the next Parent Trap remake.

Then, when Kim gets hard evidence that the people renting their garage are terrorists who are going to blow up the Seattle Needle, she reacts by excitedly telling her husband, “We should order pizza.”

The thing with this script is that it’s trying to comment on something very serious. Racism. Prejudice. Stereotyping. But it never stays sophisticated enough to make you believe it’s worthy of exploring those topics. If I find out that my neighbors are terrorists, I don’t order pizza.

I mean, well, maybe if I still lived in Chicago I would. But that’s besides the point.

You can’t really discuss this script in whole without discussing the ending. Unfortunately, the ending is a huge spoiler and I don’t want to put in the review. I will say that it’s a surprise. And it manages to add a lot to the themes explored in the film.

I’m just not sure it all comes together. It feels very, uh, forced. In other words, when it comes, you can feel the writers writing it. But hey, maybe it will fool people who haven’t read thousands of scripts before.

If you have a couple of hours to waste or you want to see how to update a classic idea (Rear Window), you could do worse. But things got too goofy for me to officially endorse this.

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: It’s always more interesting in a two-hander mystery if the two characters disagree. It allows for conflict, which makes their scenes more entertaining. But it also allows the writer to play both sides of the fence, and by doing so, keep the reader off-balance. In other words, Sean can make a great point and we think, “Yes, they’re definitely terrorists.” But then Kim can make a point and it’s like, “Oh yeah, maybe she’s right.” If both characters are on the same page, you don’t get that.

What I learned 2: When presented with a situation where it doesn’t make sense why your characters wouldn’t just go to the cops, you can use this cheap trick. You have them go to the cops, but the cops are so busy, and the evidence is so weak, that they shrug you off. So that’s what happens here. When they think the Razis are terrorists for sure, they go to the FBI, and the FBI is like, “Right, so they light up the garage sometimes and they stole your diary. Come back to us when you have some real info.” I don’t love this solution, but it’s better than the characters not going to the cops (or in this case the FBI) at all.