This is your chance to discuss the week’s amateur scripts, offered originally in the Scriptshadow newsletter. The primary goal for this discussion is to find out which script(s) is the best candidate for a future Amateur Friday review. The secondary goal is to keep things positive in the comments with constructive criticism.

Below are the scripts up for review, along with the download links. Want to receive the scripts early? Head over to the Contact page, e-mail us, and “Opt In” to the newsletter.

Happy reading!

TITLE: LOST IN THE SUPERMARKET
GENRE: Dramedy
LOGLINE: While working part-time in a supermarket, an ordinary college guy tries to save a bipolar jazz genius from self-destructing — but falls for the musician’s girlfriend, and finds himself in the process.
WHY YOU SHOULD READ: This is my third script to make the Nicholl Fellowships quarterfinals (two prior scripts were psychological/supernatural thrillers) and while I have had some success in other contests with different screenplays before, this is my most personal statement about what it means to be an artist, who is struggling against the odds to leave your mark in whatever creative endeavor you choose. It’s about the heartache and joy of doing something you love, regardless of the outcomes.

There’s this old Catch-22 in Hollywood. You can’t get an agent to read your script unless you’ve sold something. And you can’t sell something unless you have an agent pushing your script. You can probably up that number to Catch-24 or 25, since most production companies and studios won’t read your script unless it’s coming from an agency. There are two reasons for this. First, nobody wants some unrepped script coming in that could end up in a lawsuit. And second (and I think this is the more likely reason), they know the script is going to be terrible and don’t want to waste their time on it.

Yes this is the dirty little not-so-secret about sending your scripts out. 95% of the time, the scripts are terrible, which means if the agents go by the odds, your script will be be terrible, too. As someone who receives and reads lots of scripts myself, I can confirm this. And you guys have seen it, too. You know those 5 scripts you tear apart for Amateur Offerings every week? Those are the good selections. There are tons of submissions that don’t even get past the query stage because of spelling, grammar, lousy concept, lousy logline, or just an inability to form a coherent query (not everybody, mind you. Sometimes we just haven’t gotten to your submission yet).

So the question for today is, how do you get an agent when the odds are so fiercely stacked against you? Well, there are a few ways to go about it, but before we get to those ways, you must first…

BE READY
Nobody likes to hear this one, but your writing has to be ready for the big time if you’re going to get a respectable agent (you can shoot for a not-so-respectable agent, but that’s another story). Most writers press for agents too early. I see this ALLLLLL the time. And the writers say to me, “Why am I not getting an agent?” And I say, very respectfully, “I don’t think you’re ready yet.”

So how do you know when you’re ready? I don’t think you should send agents anything until you’ve written at least three scripts. And the safer bet is probably six. Still, I know people who are on their tenth script who aren’t ready. So this is not a guarantee of anything other than you’ve put in the work, are serious, and know all the basics (the three-act structure, that a script probably shouldn’t be over 110 pages, what a character arc is, etc.).

From there, it gets a little tougher. I’ve found that “readiness” can be gauged fairly accurately through screenplay competitions. Say you enter four screenplay contests. You should at least get to the second round of two of them (that’s typically the top 100-250 submissions). That’s the bare minimum of “readiness.” I would say getting to at least one semi-final in a good competition is necessary (that’s roughly top 20) before querying anybody. I’ve read every type of script there is. Second rounder, quarter-finals, semi-finals, finalists, winners. From dozens of competitions. So I have a pretty good feel for this. Even the finalists scripts usually have problems. So a second-rounder’s going to have a lot of problems. However, I understand that sometimes it comes down to the right reader “getting” a script, and you might not find that reader in four contests. BUT, if you’ve entered four contests and four separate vetting processes didn’t advance you beyond the first round, I wouldn’t query agents yet. I’d read more professional scripts and I’d buy more screenwriting books. Come back when you’ve gotten stronger.

Another way to know if you’re ready is through feedback. Submitting to Scriptshadow and being graded by your peers is a great way to do this. But not everyone gets that opportunity. Feedback from writing groups is helpful, although can be misleading if you’re still in the early stages when everyone wants to be nice and no one wants to hurt anyone’s feelings. Long-term feedback is the best bet. The longer you get feedback from someone, the more honest they’ll be, and the more reactions you have to compare between. It becomes easier to figure out which of your scripts is getting the best response, and therefore which one might be ready to send out.

Okay, now let’s talk about the three ways to get your script to an agent.

William Morris Endeavor

COLD QUERYING
Querying is pointless. Targeted Querying is where it’s at. This means finding all the movies of the past ten years or so that are like your script. Then find out the writers of those scripts along with their representation (both agent and manager). You can find this info from places like Google, Spec Scout, The Tracking Board, IMDB Pro, and the WGA. Does this take forever? Yes. But whoever said this was easy? You’re competing for prime agent real estate against hundreds of thousands of other writers. Of course it’s going to be hard.

You’ll then write your query e-mail to these people. And guys, please check your query with a friend before you send it out to a hundred agents. Like I said before, I can knock off 60% of queries right away due to a grammatically incorrect e-mails or terribly written loglines. If you don’t know what to write, try something along the lines of: “Hi, I just wanted to say I’m a huge fan of “Terminal Cyborg.” It was one of my favorite films from last year. I understand that you represent the writer. I was wondering if you might want to read my script, “The Robot Files,” which is in the same vein. It’s about a group of robots who fight for robot rights in 2073 Mississippi.” If you have a noteworthy contest finish, bring it up. “The script recently finished in the semifinals of the Nicholl and has placed in many other contests. If you’re interested, let me know and I can send it over.” Personally, I’ve found that even quarterfinal Nicholl finishes are only “okay.” I don’t know if others feel that way too, but I’d probably only bring up semi-final or higher finishes and only in well-known competitions.

Another little trick you can do is… well… stretch the truth. You know that friend who USED to work at JJ Abrams’ “Bad Robot” as an intern for three months? The one who read your script? Well, technically, if you said that your “script is into Bad Robot and they’re considering it,” you’re not technically lying. The truth about Hollywood is, people tend to only want things when other people want them. So if there’s a way, in your query, to imply that other people are after your script, do it. I admit that I’ve been duped by this a few times myself. And while the scripts weren’t any good, they at least got me to open them.

Hearing back from an agent will depend on a lot of things. How well your query was written, how good your concept is, how big the agent is. Big agents often don’t have time to take on new writers, or even give their scripts a read. But if your concept is amazing or your query stands out in some way (it’s funny or really well written), they might read your first five pages and get hooked. The more likely scenario is that some of the mid and lower level agents will respond. That is, anyone who isn’t WME, UTA, or CAA. If Paradigm, ICM or APA responds, you’re still in good company. And then there will be smaller agencies still. Once you get down to the really small guys, you have to ask yourself if it’s worth it. There’s often a good reason these guys are hanging onto the bottom rung.

Querying is all about the efforts you put in. If you half-ass it, you’re going to get half-ass results. You have to have a great concept to start with. Then you have to do all that research, finding the agents who like the material you write. Then you have to find their e-mails. Then you have to write a great query letter that passes your friend’s inspection test. Doing this takes time. But it’s the only way querying is going to work for you.

THE MANAGER
The Manager Route takes a little longer but it’s the route a lot of writers are going these days. If agents are about selling your material, managers are about managing your material. Whereas an agent might never give you a drop of feedback, most managers will read your scripts and give you notes, helping better you as a writer. Because managers are willing to work with you, they’ll usually take you on as a client when you’re a little greener. In other words, it’s easier to get a manager. Once you have a manager, it’s much easier to get an agent, since managers have a lot of relationships with agents (they’re often working as a team for their clients) and the agents trust their taste. You query managers the same way you query agents. And you should get a little better response.

NETWORKING
Writers hate this term because it’s so nebulous. There’s no A+B=C in networking. Rather you meet someone who may eventually meet someone else who a year down the line remembers your script which they give to someone else who likes it who gives it to their boss who happens to be an agent. Since it’s a lot harder to measure how all that’s going to work, writers would rather focus on the writing part. But of these three options, this is the one that will lead to the most success.  People who know you are more willing to pass your stuff on to others, or to read it themselves. Nobody wants to read something from someone they don’t know unless they’ve heard it’s amazing. The great thing is, it’s so damn easy to network in this day and age. Pick one of the many screenwriting boards on the internet, from this site to Simply Scripts to Amazon Studios to Trigger Street and be nice to people in the comments. Make friends. Trade scripts. Join a writing group. The bigger your network is, the more people you will have access to. You guys will get better together, until one of you breaks in. That person will then share his new contacts with you, and before you know it, you’ll have ins with agents who want to read your stuff. This is the slowest of the three options I’ve given, but it also results in the most success. You gotta network, guys.

IN SUMMARY
Like anything else in life, getting an agent depends on how much time you want to put into it, both on the writing side and on the looking side. You have to do a lot of research. You have to know who sells the kind of stuff you write. You have to come up with the perfect query letter. And all of this is dependent on you a) writing a concept that gets an agent excited, and b) executing that concept with a really good screenplay. Those last two things are the things that take the most time, but they’re really the only two things the agents pay attention to, so you gotta nail them first. The thing is, all the people who don’t want to do that? Who try to take short cuts? They’re the ones who get frustrated and give up. They’re the reason you’re going to make it and they aren’t. Because you’re willing to work harder and do more than they are. Getting an agent boils down to good old fashioned hard work. Either you’re willing to put in that work or you’re not.

Get Your Script Reviewed On Scriptshadow!: To submit your script for an Amateur Review, send in a PDF of your script, along with the title, genre, logline, and finally, something interesting about yourself and/or your script that you’d like us to post along with the script if reviewed. Use my submission address please: Carsonreeves3@gmail.com. Remember that your script will be posted. If you’re nervous about the effects of a bad review, feel free to use an alias name and/or title. It’s a good idea to resubmit every couple of weeks so your submission stays near the top.

Genre: Adventure
Premise (from writer): When his mother is kidnapped and sold into slavery, the legendary fableist must overcome being a short, ugly mute and outmatch Greek philosophers and bloodthirsty kings to rescue her and save the kingdom.
Why You Should Read (from writer): If I have to sit through another movie starring a chisel chinned, barrel chested, cooler-than-christ anti-hero, I’m gonna start drinking. And when I drink, I get all existential. And when I get all existential, I go searching for myself. And when I go searching for myself, I take trips to exotic countries. And when I take trips to exotic countries, my planes mysteriously disappear. And when my planes mysteriously disappear, I end up on Lost island. As cool as that would be for about a week, please don’t let me end up on Lost island, Carson! For a change, let’s give the short and uglies of the world a chance at being heroic. And you can start right here with this inspired, true-ish tale. — I’ve always been intrigued by ancient Greek culture and stumbled upon this story in college. It is tailor-made for the big screen, but very few people know about the man behind the fables. A cute, straight forward fantasy adventure this is not. Think more along the lines of the dark and dirty original versions of the Grimm Brothers’ fairy tales. The Zemeckis’, Burtons, and Depps of the world would have a field day with this.
Writer: J.D. Dorsey
Details: 104 pages

Josh Gad for Aesop?

Adventure is one of those genres that I surprisingly don’t see a lot of. And it’s a great genre to write in because there aren’t many demographics out there that don’t like a good adventure. I think because Adventure is often seen as the “grown up” version of the family film, writers stay away from it. And most of the adventure stories have been folded into the animation world anyway (Up, Tintin, Shrek). It’s much cooler to write an edgy thriller or a dark comedy. Who wants to write a wussy adventure?

I think the “cooler” adventure film is ready for a comeback, though. With the exception of the Hobbit films, there hasn’t been something people over 12 can really stand by and say, “Yo, you see that latest adventure film? That was good shit.” We need our new Romancing the Stone, our new Raiders, our new Treasure of the Sierra Madre. Is Aesop that script? Only one way to know…

It’s the year 602 BC. We start the movie where anything in 602 BC should start. Greece. It’s here where we meet Aesop.

I’ll allow today’s author to describe our title character for you, since he does it better than I ever could. Aesop is “a loathsome, potbellied, misshapen-of-head, snub-nosed, swarthy, dwarfish, bandy-legged, short-armed, squint-eyed, liver-lipped, portentous monstrosity.” In other words, the guy’s not modeling toga underwear to pay the rent.

Aesop is also a mute and a coward who spends his days with his head in the clouds, dreaming about turtles and crickets and ants who can speak. He seems uninterested in reality, for reality is often so cruel. Until he meets a magically beautiful young lady named Rhodope. Something about this girl powers up Aesop’s vocal chords and just like that, he can talk!

Unfortunately, before he can head home and share his newfound powers with this family, he finds his village burning, and everyone in it taken away as slaves. Determined to get his mother back, Aesop uses his new power of speech to talk his way onto a slave boat heading for the Island of Samos.

Once there, Aesop offers up himself as a slave (for reasons that weren’t entirely clear) to a local philosopher named Xanthus. Xanthus quickly realizes how smart Aesop is, and uses him to win several town riddle-challenges, the local Samos currency for the upper class. Word of his intelligence spreads, until he comes to the attention of the King.

Turns out the kings of this land also duel each other in battles of wits and riddles, often times betting fortunes in the process. Lose a few riddle bets in a row, and you could be out a kingdom. With Aesop by his side, however, the Samos King does nothing but win. Aesop is the smartest in the land. Until he’s given an impossible riddle by the Samos King’s chief rival. Will he be able to solve it? Or will an unforeseen betrayal lead to Aesop’s undoing?

Folks, I want to make something clear right away. We got ourselves a writer here.  This is a script that relishes its time and place, and makes you feel like you’re there all the way through.

The wooden slave boat docks at a relatively sophisticated harbor.
Replete with horse-drawn carriages, men and women in gowns
and tunics. A far cry from the rustic village.

From the bustle of workers unloading cages, horses, and equipment,
Aesop steps off the boat in awe.

He quickly gathers himself and notices that a similar boat rests next
to theirs, having already been unloaded.

Aesop starts for the city, but the Slave Trader quickly grips his collar.

SLAVE TRADER
You have duties, swine. Tend to those cages
there. Be useful in action if not in appearance!

The young man lumbers towards his duty, startled to see Mastor
dragging the beaten and bloodied body of Enops down a wooden plank.

If you want to read really good writing, download this script at the end of my review. You won’t be disappointed. Now as you know from reading Scriptshadow, if it were all about the writing, there’d be a lot more spec sales. Screenwriting is more about the storytelling though, and it’s here where Aesop needs some work. The script changes tone, changes story, changes focus, leaving you unsure what it is or what it’s trying to say.

The most jarring change for me, was in Aesop himself. He starts off as this meek bullied little mute, someone we immediately love and root for. Then, 30 pages in, he learns how to speak and all of a sudden he’s a nasty little smartass for the remainder of the script.

Completely changing your hero during your story is a risky proposition to say the least. I’ve seen it done before, like in American Beauty. Much like Aesop, Lester Burnham is a pushover who stops giving a shit. But his change is clearly motivated. We watch as he gets tired of being pushed around. So we understand why he transforms into someone who refuses to take it anymore. In contrast, I’m not sure why the ability to talk all of a sudden turns Aesop into a wiseass.

The tone wavered as well. We start off with this cute little story about a mute young man trying to make it in an unaccepting world by creating imaginary animal friends he can communicate with. Everything’s very G-rated. Then later, Aesop is getting raped (albeit comically) by his owner’s wife. We’re talking about a man famous for children’s fables here. I don’t think you want any sex scenes in this script (or “urinating while walking” scenes).

Another problem is that it took me half the script to figure out what the actual story was, which is never a good sign. At first I thought this was about the struggles of a young mute. Then I thought it was about a man trying to save his mother. Eventually I realized it was about an extremely smart individual, captured by a king, who uses his wits to stay alive. You never want it to take that long for the main story in your screenplay to emerge. It leaves the reader extremely frustrated.

There were also too many unexplained things. You can get away with not explaining maybe one major element, but any more than that and the reader’s going to turn on you. I couldn’t figure out, for example, if the animals were just talking in Aesop’s mind or they were really talking. I was 80% sure it was in his head, but with something as crazy as animals talking, there can’t be any misunderstanding there. It needs to be 100%.

I also didn’t understand what led to Aesop being able to talk. He met this girl, but why would a random girl give him the ability to speak? That was unclear. And why is it that the bad guys took everyone in Aesop’s village as slaves, however when he comes to their boat and demands to go with them, they don’t take him as a slave as well? Is there some 600 B.C. rule that states you’re allowed to catch people in the wild, but once they’re in the city they’re off-limits? And why did Aesop offer himself up as a slave? I think it was to find his mom. But how would becoming a slave help him find his mom? Wouldn’t the freedom of being able to go anywhere you wanted give you a better shot at finding her?

I’ve also read enough of these “fictional writer biopics” now to know that the better you can integrate the writer’s influences (which led to their famous works), the more powerful the story will be. The tortoise and the grasshopper and the ant seemed to pop in and out of the story with no rhyme or reason. Much like the rest of the script, there were no rules governing their arrival. They needed to have a more direct influence on Aesop, to be more crucial to the story itself. I saw them more as announcers or distant observers of his life.

Despite all that, there were good things going on here. I maintain that one of the hardest things to do in screenwriting is give us a protagonist we won’t forget. You read this script, I guarantee you, you won’t forget Aesop. He’s that memorable.

Dorsey really puts us back in Ancient Greece too. From the descriptions to the sounds to the characters, I felt like I was there. A lot of that was due to the dialogue, which was great. Pick out any page here, read the dialogue, and you’ll see what I mean. “So you see, that is why the people of Samos care so much for reputation. It informs us. It puts us in position to leverage outcomes. When I heard that my guards found not one but two slaves with particular familiarity with Aesop the monstrosity, well I couldn’t help but inquire—“ I don’t know. You just get the feeling this guy knows what he’s doing.

But I’m very frustrated by “Aesop.” We obviously have an amazing talent here in Dorsey. But he needs to spend some time in the Structure Garden. This script needs focus. Aesop isn’t really trying to find his mom after awhile, which means he’s an inactive character imprisoned by a king. I’m not sure that and a handful of riddles is enough of an engine to drive an entire second act. We need a more dominant goal and we need Aesop to be a little more active in pursuing it. Or we need a succession of goals, each clear and strong, with high stakes attached to each of them, not unlike the way Star Wars is structured.

The script also needs consistency. It starts out one way and turns out another. The tone is messy. The imaginary world and the real world need to be better explained and intertwined. These are all doable things for someone this talented, but they take time.

Regardless of what happens with this script, I want to know what Dorsey is working on from this point forward. I really like him as a writer.

Script link: Aesop The Courageous

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

What I learned: We need someone to bring the true adventure spec back. I’m predicting whoever does is going to make a lot of money. Who’s going to do it? Pitches in the comments? Or submit your adventure to Amateur Friday.

Genre: Period
Premise: In 1929, the owner of a logging business marries an ambitious young woman named Serena who becomes obsessed with the bastard child he had from a previous woman.
About: Based on the book by the same name, Serena stars mega-celebs and frequent collaborators Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence. The film was actually shot back in 2012, and is yet to be released due to (according to the production company) a very deliberate editing process. Christopher Kyle adapted the book, whose last credit before Serena was Oliver Stone’s Alexander. Don’t be worried for Kyle though. Since there were 17 cuts of Alexander made, he got paid for each one. Word is Stone will come out with another version later this summer titled, “Alexander: The Rethought but Carefully Considered Semi-Violent Cut” and Kyle will get paid again. Ron Rash, who wrote the novel, has written several books and lots of poetry. His most recent book was 2012’s The Cove, about a family who experiences a set of grave misfortunes.
Writer: Christopher Kyle (based on the book by Ron Rash)
Details: 124 pages – August 9, 2009 draft

Some longtime Scriptshadow advice: Don’t write a period piece on spec unless a) you are SURE you can get an A-list actor (they’re the only way these get made) and b) you know it’s going to win an Oscar. It’s the only way these movies have any sort of success.

Editing rumors aside, I’m guessing the real reason Serena hasn’t been released yet is because they’re trying to figure out how to market it. You have two of the biggest movie stars in the world. But they’re in completely unfamiliar roles. And you’re selling a movie about logging in the 1920s. Doesn’t matter if you’re the biggest marketing genius in the world. You’re going to have trouble with that one.

This is why I tell you to look into the future BEFORE you write your script. Ask the hard question: Are marketers going to have an easy time marketing my movie? Or a hard time? Cause if it’s a hard time, you probably shouldn’t write it. Not unless you’re Christopher Kyle and you’re getting paid on assignment for it.

But even if you get past the obvious obstacles – like trying to market this kind of film – it’s just really tough to WRITE period pieces. The further back you go in time, the slower life was, and movies work best when the story’s moving quickly. So the elements are always working against each other when you’re trying to write one of these.  The period is trying to slow you down, but you want to speed up. It can be a very frustrating.

Don’t get me wrong. It can be done. But you have to be on your A-game. Let’s see which game Serena brought to the table.

It’s 1929 and George Pemberton is plowing down trees along the North Carolina coast, looking to build a logging empire (I guess from the timber he just cut?). But apparently, chopping down timber could use a little Tinder (app that is). There aren’t a lot of females around. So George starts boinking a 16 year old girl named Rachel and accidentally knocks her up! (Is there an app for that?)

His father dies soon after so he heads home to sell the house, and when he comes back, he’s married to a psycho woman obsessed with hawks named Serena. No really! Serena spends the bulk of her time training a hawk. Serena also wants to rule this timber business with an iron fist, and therefore it doesn’t take her long to start bossing everyone around. Naturally, everyone just loves her for it.

Serena becomes aware of Rachel carrying Pemberton’s bastard child, but doesn’t think much of it. That is until her own pregnancy goes awry and she’s told she’ll never get pregnant again. This inspires a rage inside Serena, and she freaking orders a hit on Rachel and her little boy!

This is where the screenplay makes an interesting choice. Rachel and the boy actually get away at the end of the second act. Because Serena couldn’t kill them, she turns her rage towards Pemberton. As such, she meticulously sets up a hunting “accident” that will happen the next time her husband goes hunting. Will he figure it out though before it’s too late? Or will he perish under the psychopathic rage of…. SERENA!

I’ll say this about Serena. I’ve never read anything like it.

Here’s the question I always ask with period pieces though: Why do we need to tell this story in this time? What is it about 1929, specifically, that necessitates the story be told then? Because if there’s nothing that happens in the story that’s specific to that time, why not just save a ton of cash and tell the story in the present?

I’m looking at “woman gets jealous of husband’s bastard child and wants to kill it” and thinking, “Why not just tell that story today?” There doesn’t need to be any logging to tell it. Look at a movie like Titanic. Why does that movie need to be told then? Because that’s the only time it could’ve been told!

I guess an argument can be made that, if we tell this story today, it’ll feel like all the other “psycho wife/gf” movies. By setting it in 1929 at a logging facility, that’s what makes it unique. I suppose that makes sense. But I still think if you’re going to go that far back, why not intertwine the setting into the story in a way where this only could’ve happened then?

Another problem was the extreme emotional detachment all the characters showed. We never see Pemberton court Serena so we don’t know why they fell for each other. This was the biggest surprise in the script to me. Why wouldn’t you show these two meet (we sort of do in a brief flashback late in the story, but it’s too late)? Their relationship is the engine that drives the story and because we don’t see how they meet, they feel like two strangers working together. They’re so cold to one another, more interested in the business than the relationship. When they have sex, it’s raging angry sex, not tender love-making.

This makes Serena’s jealousy later on all the more puzzling. We don’t really see her love Pemberton outside of the words she says to him (words alone never work – you must SHOW NOT TELL), so it’s confusing why she’d get so worked up about the whole bastard child ordeal.

Then there’s Rachel, who Pemberton has no feelings for either! Their sex is “mechanical” when we see it. And when she has his son, he’s intrigued, but by no means interested. Wouldn’t this have worked better if he had some feelings for Rachel? A part of him regrets leaving her? Serena could’ve felt that, and then her desire to kill them would’ve actually felt motivated. Here, she’s just doing it because she’s a psychopath with a lot of issues.

The more I think about it, the more I believe the lack of emotion was the script’s undoing. How come nobody actually cares about anybody in this script??? Everyone is a zombie, a stiff. Nobody emotes. Nobody lets loose. Nobody cares. Characters without life aren’t characters.

I do give credit to Kyle for keeping things lean. Despite it being a period piece script, the action lines were nice and tight (most were 2 lines or less). His descriptions were strong. I didn’t know what a logging office looked like until I read: They’re like “boxcars on stilts.” And you’d get these winner lines, such as when they were losing all these lives due to heinous body-severing logging accidents. One official tells him, “If only I could stitch together all the severed limbs, I could make you a new man every week or two.”

And really, some of the early drama, with (spoiler) Pemberton murdering his boss before he could underhand him, was exciting. But after awhile, it became unclear what the script was about, until Serena came up with her murder plot, and I never thought that was big enough to carry an entire movie. I hope they figure it out in editing, but this draft wasn’t for me.

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

What I learned: Do not hide “YEARS LATER” or “MONTHS LATER” in a slugline. Big time jumps must be made CLEAR to the reader, since there’s nothing more confusing than reading and then, all of a sudden, nothing makes sense, then five minutes pass and you realize it’s because a time jump occurred that you were unaware of. For the most part, readers skim over sluglines, so they’ll miss any time jumps at the end of them. Instead, add them after the slugline, and BOLD THEM. It’s crucial enough information that you have to draw attention to it.

INT. BOBBY’S BATHROOM – DAY

Title: 307 years later

Genre: TV Pilot – Horror/Procedural
Premise: When the Governor’s daughter goes missing, the FBI believes the Occult may be involved.
About: This project was shepherded by Michael Bay, with X-Files alum James Wong writing. The multi-talented Wong also produced and wrote Final Destination 3, and wrote for American Horror Story. The project was set up at A&E, who ultimately passed on it, despite Josh Lucas starring. See, this is what I don’t understand about TV. You have Michael Bay shepherding a project. A guy who’s responsible for the 5th biggest franchise of the past decade. You have a movie star in the lead role. And a tiny network like A&E says, “Ehh, not interested.” Is this because it’s understood Bay is only adding his name to the show and not actually involved? What’s the reasoning here? TV guys? Help. I guess the show could’ve just been bad. But it sounds pretty cool. I guess it’s time to find out the truth.
Writer: James Wong
Details: 7-26-2012 draft (5th draft) – 52 pages

A&E seems unsure about how far they want to dip their toes in the scripted waters. The network known for reality hits Duck Dynasty, Storage Wars and Hoarders, only has one scripted show that I’ve ever heard of, the well-received “Bates Motel.” It’s only other show, a dark-looking drama starring Chloë Sevigny called “Those Who Kill,” was recently shuttered off to its sister network, LMN, which I’m guessing you’ve never heard of. Cause I sure haven’t.

That makes me believe Occult never had a shot at getting on the air in the first pace. Which is too bad. Because it sounds interesting and Wong is an established writer. Let’s see if a good show got the shaft from a network who wimped out of the scripted television derby, or if the script was never up to snuff in the first place.

We’re in New Orleans (where everything seems to be set these days – ever since they started offering all those filmmaking tax breaks), and LSU student and Governor’s daughter Alana Hutchins is out partying. She leaves the club with Abercrombie Model Dude, and while they’re walking to their cars, someone jumps out of the forest and snatches Alana away. Uh oh.

Naturally, the New Orleans FBI unit is all over this. So much so that they bring back suspended agent Dolan, a guy with a mysterious past (if you’re writing a TV show, at least one of your leads better have a mysterious past!). They team Dolan up with Bureau headache Noa Blair, a woman obsessed with the Occult. It’s her opinion that these naughty demon-worshipping clans had something to do with this.

Sure enough, Blair and Dolan happen upon an Occult sacrifice ritual, which they’re able to stop, but not before a strange feeling hits Dolan. What Dolan doesn’t know is that he’s just been possessed. Not the best form to be in when you still haven’t found your victim. That’s right, the sacrificial lamb of the ritual was yet another woman. Alana is still missing!

The duo follows a couple of basic leads (some credit card purchases, old acquaintances) and eventually runs into this guy who speaks a language that doesn’t even exist! While Dolan continues to feel stranger and stranger (he starts experiencing things that may or may not be real), Blair uses Mr. Gibberish to figure out where Alana is, who they’re able to save, just in time.

Blair then uses her face time with the Governor to ask for a special Occult Crimes Unit on the FBI. Request granted. And thus, our series begins.

These procedural dealios are tough. They’re a little easier to pull off in movie form, I feel, because you only have to come up with one big snazzy story. You can really take your time and figure out a way to make the investigation special.

But with procedural TV, you have to do it week in and week out. There are only so many ways to have your characters follow Lead A to Lead B to Lead C, and finally find the killer. Which is why I don’t generally like these shows. Once you’ve seen about five episodes of the genre, you’ve seen them all. From then on, it’s the same old shit.

That’s why I liked Silence of the Lambs so much. It wasn’t your typical “Lead A to Lead B to Lead C” scenario. They had this X-Factor in Hannibal who you weren’t used to. That rhythm of following leads was thrown off by the fact that Hannibal was giving our hero advice, and after awhile, taking center stage in the story. At a certain point, you weren’t sure if you cared more about Hannibal’s storyline or Clarice’s. It was different. It was fresh.

On the TV end, that’s the trick you’re looking for. Think of a spin on the genre that’s different enough that all those “old” scenarios become new again. “Occult” attempts to do this by having a demon possess one of its main characters, Dolan. Now, whenever the partners come onto a scene, there’s this x-factor of Dolan being able to sense things, being able to use his possession to discover clues. The question becomes, is that enough?

I don’t think so. Actually, it kind of backfires. I like it when characters have to figure shit out themselves, when the odds are stacked against them and the only way for them to thrive is to outsmart the baddies. When information is just handily given to them via the demon’s powers, it’s kind of boring and feels like a cheat. It erases all the drama from the scene. “Oh, the clue is over there.” How is that interesting?

In other words, Occult stays a lot closer to the traditional format than it tries to invent a new one. And this is something I’ve actually been battling lately. More and more people are sending me pilots, and a lot of them feel like shows I’ve already seen a thousand times before.

Just the other day, for example, someone sent me a sitcom about family life, and my big note to him was that it felt too familiar. That we weren’t breaking any new ground. If he wanted to stand out, he needed something fresh.

But a few minutes later I turned on the TV and saw an ad for “The Millers,” a show about a grown man living with his parents. In other words, the same sitcom they’ve been making for the past 20 years. I thought, “Do I have it wrong?” Maybe TV audiences enjoy that comforting familiarity a familiar set-up brings. It certainly makes it easier to relate to the characters and the situations.

The more I thought about it, the more I could see that making sense to TV people. With a movie, you have to physically get up and drive to the theater (and pay money!). So they have to give you something new and exciting to entice you. But with TV, the viewer is already on the couch. They don’t have to go anywhere. And it’s free. So maybe familiarity IS the best route? I don’t know. You TV folks looking for new shows, help me out here.

Whatever the case, all I can say about Occult is that I wasn’t drawn into it because of its familiarity. It was yet another straight-forward procedural. I wanted that HBI – that hot beef injection of something unique that made the show stand out. The occult stuff sort of did that. But it wasn’t game-changing enough to disrupt the typical “Lead A to Lead B to Lead C” formula.

Now keep in mind, I don’t watch procedurals. I don’t watch CSI or NCIS or LFYK. So I may not be the target audience here. But my gut tells me this needed something extra to make it worth going to series for.

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

What I learned: Whatever TV show you’re thinking of writing, create a setting, or give the concept a twist, that makes every situation we’re used to seeing in these shows feel fresh. For example, in Pushing Daisies, the main character was able to bring the dead back to life for a minute. That made every single procedural episode different from what we’ve seen before – our detectives could actually communicate with the dead victim of every crime. It’s my belief that this gives you a better shot at selling your pilot than if you give them the same ole same ole.