Just how savage will I be in the First 10 Pages Challenge? You’re about to find out. Today I’ll be posting real submissions from you guys, cutting out at the exact moment where I became bored and quit. I’ll then explain why I stopped reading in the hopes of teaching you what not to do.
For those of you unfamiliar with the First 10 Pages Challenge, read the original article here. The challenge asks you to write under the assumption that the reader will stop reading the second they’re bored. Therefore, you must craft a series of scenes that are impossible to put down. Some of you have complained this type of writing only works for certain genres. WRONG. I have read scripts in every single genre that have hooked me from the very first line.
The competition is open until Sunday, February 10th, 11:59pm Pacific Time. Send your pages to carsonreeves3@gmail.com with the subject line “FIRST 10 PAGES.”
Let’s get into it!
Starting with a “sleepy little town” isn’t exactly grabbing the reader from the very first sentence. Seeing the year “1850” also implies this is going to be slow. The introduction of Tom Sawyer doesn’t do much for me as I’m not a huge Tom Sawyer fan. But at the very least, it’s a known name, and therefore inspires me to read a little longer. This is followed by a scene in which Tom and his sister… paint a fence?
We’re talking the very first scene in your movie here. And it’s a fence-painting scene? That’s not very exciting. I read on, losing interest quickly. Finally, something happens on the bottom of the page (the tree reaching for Mary), but while this would seem to be a big deal, it obviously isn’t since Tom doesn’t do anything about it. Granted, my disinterest in Tom Sawyer as a character colored some of my reaction here. But I still think this is an uninteresting way to start a script. As such, I’ve chosen not to continue.
Okay, we’re starting on a busy noisy street. Already, that’s better than a sleepy little town! However, the script almost immediately throws me. “MAYOR GEORGE CLINTON, formerly of Parliament Funkadelic.” I’m not sure what that means. It seems like we would need context for this but the writer assumes we know what he’s talking about.
The introduction of aliens provides the page with a semblance of intrigue, but it feels messy. Assuming these aliens have been around for awhile, why is it that the Mayor, of all people, is confused about their actions? The script is weird enough to get me to the second page, but the experience is proving too “off the cuff” for my taste. The cherry on top is “This is a job for SuperBro.” So we’ve just gone from aliens to superheroes? I’m sensing a sloppy unhinged ride.
This is an interesting one because something is actually happening here. We’re building up suspense before this ride and there’s a clear plan in place from the writer. He makes us dislike these characters so that we’ll want to see their comeuppance.
But there’s something haphazard about the writing. It’s too quick and empty. There’s no nuance to anything. Kicking a kid so that he falls down? I understand making these characters unlikable. But that’s so over-the-top as to be unrealistic. This was the first moment where I lost confidence in what I was reading.
Another problem with this scene is that instead of making us root for a character we do like, you’re making us root against characters we dislike. That’s never going to be as powerful. We care about situations the most when we can identify with and root for the character involved. Not saying you can’t start this way. Only that when you do, you’re placing yourself at a slight disadvantage.
Once we get on the ride, everything happens too quickly. We’re not building up to these horrifying moments enough. This is where the First 10 Pages Challenge can get confusing. Just because I want you to hook the reader right away doesn’t mean your scene needs to move at a breakneck pace. If you show us a killer in the house and cut outside to the blissfully ignorant owner, who’s coming home, you can play the next 2 pages out as slowly as you like because we’re going to stick around no matter what to see what the killer does.
I would’ve milked this entire scenario more. I would’ve painted a more elaborate picture of this carnival and this ride. I would’ve gotten to know the characters a little better. Have them talk about the rumors about this ride, maybe. And then I would’ve taken my time between each event that happens on the ride. Cause right now this feels rushed and sloppy, which is why I stopped reading.
The first moment here is somewhat shocking. But it’s not, “Oh my god,” shocking. And on top of that, it’s too short. Nothing happens. It’s just some guy tied up in a room. The scene needed to be longer and probably needed another character. Shock value is empty. It titilates, but only momentarily. It’s better to build a full scene with conflict or suspense than it is to show us a shocking image.
This mistake is mirrored a couple of pages later when we meet Charles Manson. Charles Manson is pure shock value. So you’ve got our attention. But his scene is weak. He says a few trippy things and we’re out of there within a page. If you wanted to really grab us, ditch the BDSM opener and start in the courthouse where we see Frank waiting. Imply that he’s waiting to meet someone very important. This will open up a line of suspense. We’ll want to find out who. Take us through the long walk to get there, like Clarice going down to see Hannibal Lecter, except here, we’re wondering who the hell Frank is going to see. Then, when you introduce Charles Manson, build a long dialogue scene around him. I mean, this is Charles freaking Manson. Use him!
These pages aren’t bad by any means but there’s nothing here that tells me I HAVE TO READ ON. And remember, that’s the challenge. The challenge isn’t to get me to begrudgingly read on because the pages are okay. It’s to make it impossible for me not to read on.
First thing I noticed is the denseness of the first page. By no means a script killer, but it means a tougher read. Then we’ve got this numbering thing. That immediately takes me out of the experience. The running girl provides a level of intrigue. But do you know how many running girls I’ve read at the opening of scripts? Hundreds. What’s different about this one? That she’s wearing a black dress? That’s not enough.
The writer uses a cross-cutting style, which is a risky choice. Done well, it can be used to build suspense and create a question the reader wants answered. Done shoddily, it can be confusing, even annoying. Like, “Why are we doing this?” This leans more towards the latter than the former for me.
This is important for writers to remember. Early on, you don’t want red flags. By themselves, they can be ignored. Combined, they convey a script that’s not worth continuing. So on the 11th line, we get this sentence: “The HOUSE decrepit three story 19th century mansion that rests on a weed infested property.” Numbers. Slightly janky cross-cutting choice. Now a sentence mistake. That’s three red flags.
To the writer’s credit, there’s something happening here. But it’s messy. The construction of the scene feels off. Ditch the cross-cutting and focus on the girl. See if you can give us a “girl running from something” scene that’s never been done before. It Follows was a great example of this. This is what separates the men from the boys, people. You gotta come up with a good idea for a scene, be original, execute it in an interesting way, and not make any mistakes that could cause the reader to be confused. I had to stop and go back a couple of times to figure out what was happening here. That’s a death sentence early on in a read, and its’s the reason I tapped out.
So what do you guys think? Is my assessment of these pages correct? Or am I being too harsh? Would you keep reading on any of these? Let me clarify that question because it’s an important one. I don’t mean, “Would you keep reading because this is a screenwriting site, you want to give writers a chance, and these pages are decent enough for you to see if there’s more there?” I mean, if some random person e-mailed these scripts to you and you started reading them, would any of them be impossible for you to put down?
Cause that’s the goal here. That’s what we’re trying to achieve.
If these were your scripts, don’t be discouraged. Take the feedback, rewrite the pages, or start a new script altogether and submit that one. We’re all trying to learn here and I feel like this exercise has the potential to help everyone.
Good luck!
Genre: Sci-Fi Comedy
Premise: (from Black List) A down-on-his-luck high school senior discovers that the old roadside diner outside of town is secretly a hangout for parallel universe travelers. He sets off on a mind-bending adventure across the multiverse that takes him beyond his wildest dreams.
About: Another short story adaptation? Do people even write pure specs anymore? Today’s script finished number 5 on the 2018 Black List and is the script on that list I was most looking forward to reading. It seems to be at least partly inspired by one of the most famous unproduced screenplays in Hollywood, The Tourist. This script also proves that wasting time on the internet doesn’t always amount to a waste of time. As co-writer Steve Desmond puts it, “I was bored because Michael had to be a father. I went down an Internet rabbit hole that led to the short story. I loved it. I sent it to Michael, and he loved it. We started brainstorming immediately about what the movie could be. Fortunately, we were able to secure an option from the author directly ourselves. also the offshoot of wasting time.”
Writers: Steve Desmond & Michael Sherman (based on the short story by Lawrence Watt-Evans)
Details: 110 pages
What in the…
Have you guys heard the Ghostbusters news? They’re making a direct sequel to the second film and it’s being directed by Jason Reitman, the son of Ivan Reitman, who, of course, directed the first movie.
This is BONKERS. First off, it’s a direct admittance that the studio screwed up with the all-female Ghostbusters. By moving away from that and back to the original property, that’s the closest you’re going to get to a studio saying, “Yeah, we effed that one up.”
But just as baffling is the fact that Jason “I only make slow indie dramas that nobody sees” Reitman is directing the film. There is nothing on his resume that would imply he’s right for this movie. When he told his dad about his idea for the film, his dad said, “I was crying at the end.” Um, Ghostbusters isn’t supposed to make people cry!!!
I’m both excited and terrified because we’re finally getting a true Ghostbusters threequel but we’re getting it from the man who couldn’t find an audience if you placed him in the middle of Times Square. Curiously absent from the press release is whether Bill Murray is involved. I suppose we’ll find that out soon. This is easily the most shocking movie news I’ve heard in months.
Ghostbusters provides us a perfect segue into today’s script, which exists in the same spiritual universe as that film. There’s a long history of supernatural and science-fiction comedy films doing gangbusters box office. Might Harry’s Hamburgers be the next in line?
17 year-old Andy lives in a dead-end town with dead-end future prospects. Andy’s life started going south when he was 9. That’s when he struck out during the championship Little League game. Didn’t even swing the bat. Then there’s that moment he could’ve kissed the love of his life, Piper, only to chicken out at the last second. Now she’s in love with some popular jock.
Andy wishes more than anything he could go back and change those moments. Lucky for him, that moment arrives. Sort of. Andy gets a night-shift job at a strange old 50’s diner called Harry’s All Night Hamburgers. He knows something’s off about this place on the first night. That’s when three gorgeous topless women walk in and ask for a table. Eventually, Harry, the owner, explains that this joint is for multi-verse travelers.
When Andy learns that each universe is completely different from our own (in some they breed dinosaurs, in others they’ve experienced the apocalypse) he gets the jumping bug. But Harry warns him. There’s no way to get back to your original universe. Andy jumps anyway and lucks out. In his first alternate universe, he’s popular and dating Piper. But just as he’s about to have sex with her, the Andy from that universe arrives and our Andy is forced to flee. Hmm, this multi-verse thing is going to be tougher than he thought.
Andy starts jumping from universe to universe, only to encounter messy obstacles along the way. No matter what he does, he can’t seem to get Piper. And even worse, he doesn’t know if he wants to. The Piper he wants is back in his universe. But there’s no way to get back there. Or is there? Andy starts flipping through universes like satellite TV channels, hoping to get home by sheer will. But with each passing jump, he realizes he may have made a mistake he can never correct.
The great thing about Harry’s All Night Hamburgers is that it’s written with love. One of the best pieces of screenwriting advice I’ve ever gotten is to write about subject matter you love. Or write a movie you would love to see. Because you’re going to go all out in your attempts to make that script work. Whereas, with subject matter you’re only kinda into, you’re not going to give it your all. There’s not a single moment in Harry’s All Night Hamburgers where these writers aren’t having fun.
Here’s my issue with the script, though. The influences are too influential. Part of screenwriting is understanding where the line is between being influenced and rewriting your favorite films. Every time this script seemed like it was going to become its own thing, it would resort back to an influence. We’ve got Groundhog Day. Men in Black. Sliders. Field of Dreams. And lots and lots of Back to the Future. The parallels between Andy and Harry and Marty and Doc are excessive to say the least.
Also, the execution of our hero’s flaw goes sideways. The reason this is a big deal is because the script leans heavily on emotion. And a big portion of a movie’s emotion is derived from your hero overcoming their flaw. When Will Hunting finally stops trying to project this tough guy image and breaks down to his therapist, that’s when the emotional journey of that film reaches its climax.
Here, Andy introduces himself by saying he wishes he would’ve swung at the ball, kissed the girl he loved. But a movie about parallel universes doesn’t provide an opportunity for that flaw to be corrected. Had this been a time-travel movie or a start-over movie, he would’ve gotten to face his flaw head on. But instead, we’re in these parallel universes where the script struggles to marry these two elements. Sometimes it gets close (there’s a universe without an Andy, which means he gets to reinvent himself to the town), but it always felt off.
And look, I’m not saying this stuff is easy. Sometimes you have a really cool concept and a really great emotional through-line, but they don’t link up. And it sucks because you know they work individually. They just don’t work with each other. And what most writers will do – and I’ve done this plenty of times myself – is write them anyway and try to make them work through brute force. Ten drafts and two years later, changing one of the two becomes impossible. And that seems to have happened here.
So how did this script succeed in spite of this problem? Because the idea is so damn good. The title alone is a movie title. I can imagine 10 different versions of the poster that would catch my attention at the theater. And as I pointed out above, there’s a ton of love on the page. Andy is an impossible character not to root for. The character goal is strong. The stakes are clear. The structure is solid. I can tell these writers have been writing for a long time. They know how to write a professional screenplay. I think my expectations for this script might have hindered my enjoyment a bit. But the silver lining is that high-concept science fiction scripts like this are still getting attention in Hollywood.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: I’ll leave today’s advice to one of the writers of the script, Michael Sherman: “Don’t give up! It took us 17 scripts, a lot of years, and a lot of hours. But I can truly say that it’s been worth it.”
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Premise: When her childhood best friend returns from abroad with his new fiance, a lonely med school dropout must figure out how to tell him that she’s in love with him.
About: Today’s script finished number 2 on the Hit List. It was also a semi-finalist in the Nicholl. It was written by Tisch School of Arts graduate, Lauren Minnerath. For those wondering how to get your scripts read, do what Minnerath did. Enter every major writing competition and fellowship there is. For example, Minnerath was also a 2017 HBO Access Writing Fellowship finalist.
Writer: Lauren Minnerath
Details: 108 pages
After the disaster that was yesterday’s short story, it’s nice to be reintroduced to a writer who can actually write. And in the romantic comedy genre, no less, a genre that was so dead at one point that the go-to leading man was Jason Segal.
But thanks to the Romcom Resurgence, led by Netflix, we can rejoice in the revival of these fluffy equivalents to reading tabloid magazines in the supermarket line. It’s easy to understand why romcoms were once at the top of the spec mountain. They’re all dialogue. The stories are easy to follow. And because description is minimal, you can barrel through them in less than 60 minutes. From someone who just read a 130 page screenplay with 40+ characters set in Russia during World War 1, you can imagine how welcome this is.
But the defining reason today’s screenplay stands out is that it does what no other romcom screenplay has been able to do in 30 years. I’m going to tell you what that is in a minute. But first, let me tell you what “Everything Happens” is about.
Like a lot of New Yorkers in their 20s, Leah’s trying to figure her life out. After failing out of med school, a secret she keeps from everyone, Leah spends most of her time waiting tables and playing The Sims. “I’ve removed all doors, toilets, and sources of food and happiness from the house and now I’m watching as my Sims slowly degrade into starvation, uncleanliness, and death,” she tells her friend.
Leah’s best friend since junior high school is Mitch, a handsome money manager who’s finally making the move back to the US from England. Leah’s happy to hear that Mitch is breaking up with his gorgeous perfect English girlfriend, Charlotte, because, you guessed it, Leah’s secretly in love with Mitch! Except when Mitch arrives, he’s brought a surprise with him. Charlotte! “We changed our minds. We’re getting married!” he tells Leah. yaaaaaay.
Leah hates Charlotte in all of her pretentiousness and thinks she’s totally wrong for Mitch, but when the two grab some drinks, she warms up to her. (MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD). But apparently Leah doesn’t know where the warm-up line ends, because that night she goes back to Charlotte’s apartment and they make out.
Feeling all the guilt in the world, Leah is horrified at what she’s done. But pretty soon Charlotte is pursuing her morning, day, and night. This perfect woman is too much for an ordinary New York girl to resist so Leah begins a “We shouldn’t be doing this but we’re still doing it anyway” affair with her. When Mitch returns from a work vacation, it’s time for Leah to sort things out and figure out what she wants to do. But when all of their secrets come tumbling into the open, Leah will need to decide if Charlotte is worth losing her best friend over.
For those of you freaking out about the First Ten Pages Challenge – thinking it’s an impossible standard to live up to, you’ll be happy to note that today’s script starts with a video chat. If you were to tell me that you were voluntarily starting your screenplay with a video chat, I would come to your house, knock on your door, take your hand, lead you to the Uber in your driveway that I ordered, hand you a plane ticket, and tell you to leave Los Angeles forever. So the fact that the number 2 script on the Hit List did this is an indication that First Ten Pages perfection is not required in all circumstances.
With that said, the pages were still light and easy to read. So even if I wasn’t bowled over by the content, it cost me little to keep reading. And you can’t forget that this script is accompanied by a “second best spec script of 2018” tag, something that gives it more leeway than a random spec script from a writer you’ve never heard. So make decisions like this at your own risk.
Now I bet you’re all wondering what I was chirping about earlier – how this romcom excels where so many others fail. Well, gather round cause I’m about to tell’ya. The main thing that killed the romcom was predictability. It was the single easiest genre to predict. Guy gets girl, guy loses girl, guy gets girl back. For awhile, people defended this. “But,” they said, “It’s not about the destination. It’s about the journey!” While there’s some truth to that statement, let’s be honest, the predictability of these movies became unbearable.
What “Everything Happens” manages to pull off is, for once, you don’t know how things are going to end. That’s because Minnerath cleverly constructs a scenario that doesn’t have a simple solution. Leah falls for her best friend’s fiance. On the one hand, you’re thinking she could end up with Charlotte. But then would she really do that to her best friend? Conversely, once she sleeps with Charlotte, you can’t imagine any scenario where Mitch would find out about this and want to be with Leah.
To convey just how clever this is, consider the alternative, which is what I usually end up reading. Leah meets Charlotte who, in this version, is engaged to a random guy Leah doesn’t know. If Charlotte were to have an affair with Leah under those circumstances, is there any doubt they would end up together? Of course not. It’s the best friend thing that has us stumped. And when you don’t know what’s going to happen next, you’re way more invested in the story. Which is why this was such a good read.
And for those of you hemming and hawing about how dare I suggest you can’t predict a romcom, put your money where you mouth is (or at least your internet dignity). Based on my plot summary, comment what you think happens at the end. Post it. Then go check and see if you’re right. You weren’t, were you? That’s good writing.
On top of this, I liked that Minnerath took chances. A lot of writers would resist a choice that has their main character betray their best friend. How is anyone going to root for that character, would be the argument. As such, they’d shy away from the choice and instead write something safer. But it’s that risk that makes this screenplay so compelling. You don’t have a script if you’re not wondering how Leah is going to navigate this.
The execution of “Everything Happens” is as good as you’re going to get in this genre. If you’re wondering how Minnerath pulled that off, it comes down to making a bold choice at the midpoint. That’s when Leah and Charlotte are first with one another. The screenplay went from a fun harmless romcom to something darker, more daring, and unpredictable. If you write in the comedy or romcom genres, you’ll definitely want to check this one out.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[x] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Have things tugging at your character. “Tugs” add depth and, more importantly, character realism. Here, Leah has her MCAT test tugging at her. Her mom keeps reminding her about it. Mitch reminds her. Her sucky days at work remind her. These tiny slices of real life annoyance can make even the simplest characters feel real.
Genre: Horror?
Premise: Three Korean girls who have been adopted by American suburban families have their friendship tested when they conjure up a spell that releases their “mother.”
About: Today’s short story sold at the end of last year after being involved in a bidding war. Five offers came in, with Fox 2000 and 21 Laps winning the grand prize. The short story was written by Alice Sola Kim who won something called the “Whiting Award” in 2016. This short story was published on tinhouse.com and can be read here.
Writer: Alice Sola Kim
Details: Equivalent of 15-20 pages long
Is the short story the new spec script?
Maybe not. But nothing’s gotten closer to replicating the spec sale in the last two years than the short story sale. They’re all the rage, with a couple of new ones picked up every month.
While I know nothing about today’s writer, I suspect from her name (Alice Sola Kim) that she is of Korean heritage (Kim) adopted by American parents (Sola). If that’s the case, this appears to be a personal story. Isn’t that what they say to do? Write what you know? Or, the R version, “Work your personal shit out through your writing?” I’m excited. If Kim is using her own life experiences to tell this story, doing so through the marketable genre of horror, I’m betting it’s going to be an emotionally moving portrait of adoption that can be marketed to the masses. Let’s check it out.
Teenagers Mia, Caroline, and Ronnie are Koreans adopted into American families. That’s how they met, actually, during a gathering for Koreans adopted into American families. These three understand each other in a way the outside world couldn’t possibly comprehend. Mia is the fun alternative one. Caroline is the sophisticated one. And Ronnie is the misfit.
One day, as teenagers are wont to do, the three chant a spell in a parking lot, only to later realize they’ve unleashed their mother. Not their adopted mother. Not their birth mother. But some nebulous afterlife creature who refers to herself as their mother.
This “mother” communicates to the three of them by taking over their brains and speaking through their mouths. The things she says make less sense than your average homeless man on Santa Monica and Colorado (“THIS IS A SONG MY MOTHER SANG TO ME WHEN I DIDN’T WANT TO WAKE UP FOR SCHOOL. IT CALLS THE VINES DOWN TO LIFT YOU UP AND—“). It’s not clear what this mother is trying to accomplish other than be annoying, which she’s an expert at.
As “Mother” is passed around between the girls, we impatiently wait for some sort of plot to arrive. It never does, unfortunately, making you wonder just how frivolously this was written. Eventually, to teach the girls a lesson, “mother” crashes their car into a tree one night. However, just when we think something substantial has happened in this godforsaken story, we cut back to the car, still driving, to learn that they’re all safe, and that “mother” was just teaching them a “lesson.” The End.
Before I get to my reaction, I want to make something clear. I don’t blame Alice Kim for this. It’s not her fault that she wrote a story that’d be dismissed by 99% of college English professors, yet still was able to sell it. Good for her. We should all be so lucky as to sell our weaker material. I don’t blame the original producer, who did an amazing job conning Hollywood into thinking this story was worth buying. That’s what a good producer does (A famous Hollywood agent once said, “Sell a good script? Pfft. Anybody can do that. Sell a bad script? Now that’s when you know you’re a good agent.”).
I blame the production company and studio that purchased this. If you’re trying to figure out who made the mistake here, they’re the one you point the finger towards.
There are two reasons why this sale annoys me so much. The first is it confuses aspiring writers. Writers read this glorified writing exercise, see that it sold, and believe that this is the bar. When it isn’t. It’s an outlier, a purchase that was likely inspired by reasons that have little to do with the story’s quality. Second, it’s taking the place of material that’s ACTUALLY good. There’s a lot of stuff out there that’s so much more deserving than this. But instead the winning lottery spot goes to Rambling Teenage Girls and Their Ghost Mom.
I mean here’s a typical paragraph from “Daughters.”
Imagine 20 pages of that.
While the rules for short stories are definitely different from screenwriting, there is one commonality. There needs to be a plot. There needs to be a point to it all. The opening to “Daughters,” which dives into our friends’ lives, does so messily. “At midnight we parked by a Staples and tried some seriously dark fucking magic. We had been discussing it for weeks and could have stayed in that Wouldn’t it be funny if groove forever, zipping between yes, we should and no, we shouldn’t until it became a joke so dumb that we would never. But that night Mini had said, “If we don’t do it right now, I’m going to be so mad at you guys, and I’ll know from now on that all you chickenheads can do is talk and not do,” and the whole way she ranted at us like that, even though we were already doing and not talking, or at least about to.” And that’s fine. When we’re meeting our heroes, you can be messy as long as we’re getting to know the characters who will later lead us on our journey.
But at a certain point, you have to introduce the reason the story exists. What is it our characters are trying to achieve (their goal)? Only then does your story have purpose. Doing so here would’ve been easy. You bring in the mother character. You have her do something awful, and now they need to get rid of her. But, instead, “Daughters,” focuses more on the positive aspects of “mother.” Her appearance is championed, her words idolized.
It’s only at the very last second that the group decides Mother is bad, as if the writer realized that she needed to end her story somehow and, oh yeah, if the mother is bad, then they would have to eliminate her. Instead of being a major plotline, however, it’s relegated to the last 500 words of the story. And this is how I know this was written at 3 am with not a lick of rewriting. It’s a story that was thoughtlessly blasted onto the page so it could be turned into a professor before sunrise.
And who is this mother ANYWAY??????
You all have different birth parents. Why do you only have one mother? Why don’t any of them realize that if someone’s claiming to be their unique mother, she can’t be everyone’s mother? Am I speaking alien here? That makes sense, right? And this is what bothers me about this type of writing. The writer doesn’t want to do the hard work of figuring out the answer to that question. It’s easier to keep it raw, place the onus on the audience to do the work, and in the best of circumstances, trick everyone into believing they’ve made some profound statement about motherhood.
So is there a movie here? That’s the only question that matters, right?
The answer is no.
But if I were paid a million dollars to come up with an angle, I guess I would have these girls unleash an evil mother that starts killing those around them and they have to figure out how to put the genie back in the bottle before there’s too much death and destruction. Which is just like every other horror movie but, hey, they paid all this money for the rights. They need a movie. That’s as good as they’re going to get.
[x] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: No story can be saved through prose. No story can be saved through internal monologue. No story can be saved through shock tactics (it’s revealed that Ronnie’s involved in a incestual relationship with her brother late). You need a character goal to drive the plot. Without it, you’re just talking to yourself on the page.
Genre: Horror
Premise: Trapped in a strange house, a young woman with a phobia of dogs must escape the jaws of a bloodsucking hound and its master.
Why You Should Read:I find phobias fascinating. The crippling impact they can have on a person’s life. I wanted to take that fear to an extreme level. There seems to be room in the horror universe for an update on Cujo (other than a remake), pitting a protagonist against a vicious, bloodthirsty beast. I set out to write something simpler and more contained than my last work with 100x more blood. Hope you enjoy sinking your teeth into this one!
Writer: Katherine Botts
Details: 91 pages
Katherine is back. If my memory is correct, she’s 3 for 3 on winning Amateur Offerings. When a Katherine script comes in, a Katherine script tends to win. That’s my rhyme for the day. However, there’s some backstory here. Katherine’s been sending this script in for awhile and I wasn’t keen on featuring it. Not because I didn’t believe in her. But because the idea didn’t excite me. A mean dog after a person in a house? It sounded like the most straightforward predictable movie ever. I man Cujo is one of the only Stephen King books I haven’t read (for the same reason). Scary dogs don’t scare me. So I was going into this one with some prejudice. Would the script look up at me with puppy dog eyes and make me fall in love with it? Or would it bare its teeth and run away? Grab the leash and let’s walk this dog together to find out!
17 year old Blair is scarred for life – both literally and figuratively. When she was 7, a dog attacked her at a pool. She’s never been the same since. Also since that time, her father passed away. Her mom’s moved on with some lame-o named Nathanial. Blair’s plan is to save up enough money so she can fix her car and drive away from this place.
So when she gets a last second opportunity to house-sit for some richie riches, she grabs it. She arrives at the remote southern mansion where she meets the strange family – mother, father, son – who are leaving town because the mom’s father has fallen ill. Just before they’re about to leave, they blindside Blair by letting her know that, oh yeah, she has to take care of their new rescue dog, Jumper. Blair tries to back out of the job but gives in when they beg her.
As soon as they’re gone, Blair recruits her goofy boyfriend, Collin, to come keep her company. Collin, a dog lover, bonds with the rescue dog, encouraging Blair to give her a shot. No chance, Blair says. Dogs are evil. After the two raid the fridge, Collin falls asleep, and that’s when Blair sees it. Big scary eyes outside the window. A dog. And not just any dog. A huge beast of a dog.
Blair tries to shake Collin awake but there’s no response. She glances at the leftovers. Could they have been… drugged? As she yells at Collin to wake up, the beast-dog starts banging on the doors and windows. It’s only a matter of time before it gets in. She drags Collin to the old house elevator just as the dog breaks in, and they go up to the attic. It’s there where they meet old man Arthur. But wait, I thought the family was going to visit Arthur. What’s he doing here in the house?
It turns out Arthur is a vampire. That beast-dog thing is his servant. It finds him people, brings them to him, and he drinks their blood. Blair is able to escape this freakazoid, but now she’s right back in the bowels of the house, easy prey for Beast Dog. Blair will need to, ironically, depend on rescue dog, Jumper, to help her defeat this thing. But as the night unfolds, she realizes this entire family has planned everything to make sure she doesn’t leave alive.
First question that, no doubt, everyone will be asking after yesterday’s article. Does Blood Hound pass the First 10 Pages test? It’s hard for me to answer that because I knew I was reading this all the way through no matter what. So I was trying to imagine what I would’ve done if I had no obligation to the script. The answer is I probably would have stopped. But it wouldn’t have been an easy decision.
The opening scene is fun. Little girl at the pool. She wants a dog from her daddy. Sees a dog hiding in the bushes, goes to pet it. It attacks her. It was enough to keep me turning the pages. But I think the suspense could’ve been introduced earlier and drawn out more. The first part of the scene is her in a pool with her dad joking around. It’s not a bad scene at all. But if we’re grading the scene on the “Every word matters” curve, we could’ve hinted at danger earlier, which would’ve, in turn, allowed for Katherine to sneak in the character introductions via a more exciting scene wrapper.
The second scene (“10 Years Later”) is okay but it’s the very definition of “resting on your laurels.” You know you’ve started with this shocking opening scene. So you think, “I can relax now. They’ll allow me to be boring for a few pages while I set the characters up.” You can never rest on any laurels. I’m not asking for two teaser scenes in a row. But you should still be attempting to construct entertaining scenes after your first one.
But as the script goes on, it gets better. Katherine does a great job adding specificity to her world. Things happen because that’s how they would happen, not because the writer needs them to happen. An example would be the house-sitting. A lazy writer would make that a given. Blair’s housesitting tonight because she has to for the movie to exist. Katherine, however, explains that Blair wants out of this town. She needs money to fix dad’s car so she’s taking as many odd jobs as she can. The housesitting job, then, is a crucial step towards meeting that goal.
I also liked that the family had history. They were weird and mysterious. One of the things I worried about when I originally read the logline was that Blair would go to this house and then a dog would appear out of nowhere and start harassing her. It sounded too simplistic. But from the moment we get inside this house, the family seems interesting. There’s something odd going on with them and you want to keep reading to find out what it is.
The peak of the script for me was when I realized Jumper wasn’t the dog that was going to face off against Blair, but rather food for a bigger dog. That’s when I leaned in and really started reading with an invested eye. Once I figured out that she, too, was meant to be dog food, I was all in. At that point, the script was a double worth-the-read for me.
But then a controversial choice is made that people are either going to love or hate. I didn’t like it. And it comes down to “double mumbo-jumbo.” When I realized the old man, Arthur, was a vampire, my head fell. I thought I was reading a killer dog movie. Now it’d become a killer dog vampire movie. It was a bridge too far. After that, it was impossible for the script to win me back. I thought what Katherine had before this was plenty. It didn’t need a vampire kick.
With that said, I loved one other subplot in the script, which was Jumper going from enemy number one to best friend. I love any well-executed character arc. And Blair’s arc from being the last person in the world who would connect with a dog, to trusting her life to Jumper, was really heart-warming. Kudos to her for pulling that off.
But man, I really disliked the vampire thing. It felt like a writer who didn’t have the confidence that their idea was enough. So they had to add something extra. The irony is that I didn’t think the idea was enough when I started it either. But Katherine did such a good job building up this family and this house, that the original concept DID end up being enough. I mean, that’s some freaky shit. A family lures people into their house and then has their psycho dog eat them. That’s a movie right there.
Script link: Blood Hound
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Be careful with tropes, even if they’re well-regarded. An early scene has Young Blair crawling through the bushes to pet a dog. The dog growls at her. We sense the big attack coming. Then we cut to: “BLOOD flecks onto the old ball.” Yes, the cut away to blood splatter is a more “artful” way to express a violent attack than showing the violence. But if we’ve seen that trope a million times, is it any less lazy than showing the attack itself? I say this because I’ve read three scripts THIS WEEK that have used that trope. So push yourselves. Do something different. Maybe even show the attack. That might be the unexpected thing that makes the scene memorable.
