Longtime Scriptshadow reader Timothy Mannion rolls onto the scene with his first produced screenwriting credit, Brake.

Hello my friends.  Today’s name might be familiar to you longtime Scriptshadow readers.  Timothy Mannion entered my logline contest way back in the day and finished near the top with this very logline!  He since went on to option the script AND get it made, with Stephen Dorff starring.  The film will be released on VOD tomorrow and hit theaters on March 23rd.  I had a virtual sit down with Tim to find out how all this happened.

SS: I remember your logline all the way back from my first logline contest. A lot has happened since then. So let me ask you a few questions. First, how did you sell the script? Was it a lot of pounding the pavement? Asking people to read it? Or did you have an “in” somewhere?

TM: The script got a series of emails from producers based on the logline contest, of course. I also sent it to a couple of contacts that I made earlier in the year. Living in Connecticut and being so far from LA, I never thought anything was going to come from it. But, sure enough, I got a call from a director named Gabe Torres who read the script and flipped for it. He won me over with his vision and his time frame for making the dream become a reality, so I optioned the rights to him.

SS: And then how did it go from purchased script to a “Go” movie? Since the large majority of sold specs never get made, that must have been pretty exciting.

TM: It took a little while to gather financing and get casting together since it was independently financed, but in this business it was actually quite fast. I know other writers who have waited 10 years to see their script go to screen. BRAKE did page to first cut in less than a year. Really remarkable stuff. And even then, we shot in 11 days. That was probably the most exciting part, being on set every day, watching a talented director and a great actor, Stephen Dorff, work their magic. I feel very fortunate to be in the “poster” club.

SS: It seems like you conceived of Brake from a very marketable place. This isn’t Blue Valentine 2. Were you just thinking like a businessman when you wrote this or was there a deeper reason you wanted to write this script?

TM: Back when I was writing BRAKE it was “contained thriller” hour in Hollywood. You couldn’t take a step without bumping into one: the coffin, the elevator, the chairlift, the driver’s seat of a fast car. BURIED of course was the big trend setter, and I was well into writing BRAKE before I even knew about that. But after seeing how far Chris Sparling took it, I did the opposite of what others probably would have done. I saw that it worked for him so I forged on. I think some people would have said, “Oh well, he beat me to the punch.” He did, but you can throw a smarter punch, you can make yours better. It’s all learning what works and what doesn’t.

I wrote this script because simply, I couldn’t make my epic projects work. I was having trouble balancing several characters with set pieces and moving plot and action sequences and flashbacks and reversals and just the kitchen sink. I wanted to quit. I really did. And then I flipped the switch. I told myself to think of something small with 1-2 actors for 90 minutes. Keep it contained, keep it simple. And in doing so it became MY BIGGEST SCRIPT. Not in budget, but in story and in scope. It’s not a small film by any means. It has big ideas, big motivations. 

SS: Expanding on that, contained thrillers seem to be one of the best ways to break into the industry because they’re so cheap to make and are relatively easy to market. However, from a screenwriting point of view, when you’re writing about characters (or *a* character) in one place for so long, it becomes hard to keep the story fresh/interesting. How did you go about doing this for Brake?

TM: This is the critical aspect of the contained thriller. Can you keep the plot moving… without ever having your character literally moving? Fortunately for BRAKE our character is moving, he’s just not in control of the situation. But for other contained thrillers I think three things are needed to pull this off. 1) Ticking time bomb device. Gotta have something that the reader/audience clings to. Even the oldie but goodie’s work. Cellphone dying, lack of oxygen. But go further. Push it. In BRAKE it’s a literal clock that counts down. Every 4 minutes you’re waiting for… SOME THING. 2) STAKES, STAKES, STAKES. Every single page the stakes have to be raised. The situation needs to get worse for your protagonist at every turn. If it doesn’t then why am I reading it? And even then, you as the writer have to create “small wins” for the character. But not too many – the antagonists and the situation have to be one step ahead. 3) Make it personal. It’s hard to work the back story of your character into this hectic situation, but if you can fold it in then we get to see that character in a vulnerable situation with this added weight of personal pressure on top. That’s the good stuff.

SS: In general, how do you approach writing a script? Are you an outliner? A pragmatist? Or do you just jump in there and rock out?

TM: I usually outline. Although, on the last one I winged it… and I paid for it! I think outlining at least gives you a direction for where the story is going. Hell, if you take a left turn during the writing process all the better. But knowing your ending, knowing your all-too-important third act ahead of time, is critical.

SS: Are you someone who tends to follow the “rules/guidelines” of screenwriting? Or are rules outlawed in Timothy MannionLand?

TM: The most important thing I’ve learned was the rules. Learning structure was critical to my success. And now I bend them and sometimes break them completely. But I know if I didn’t learn the basics first, I wouldn’t be anywhere today. Learn them, and if you disagree, well, forget’em.

SS: Brake was your first sale. How many screenplays had you written before that?

TM: I wrote three scripts before BRAKE. All action-oriented.

SS: Were any of them any good? If so, give us a pitch or two!

TM: I wrote one called JULIET 7 about an alien prisoner of War being help captive in an underground silo and an invasion of spaceships that come down, trying to free it. It was a found footage idea, with 4 teenagers being caught in this chaotic situation where we change POV three different times. Looking back with all of this FF craze now happening, I probably should have finished it. (from Carson: That idea actually sounds pretty cool! With FF footage film here to stay, I say you finish it). 

SS: What do you think you know now as a screenwriter that you didn’t know, say, 3 years ago, around the time of the logline competition? What are some of the biggest lessons you’ve learned since then?

TM: I learned that larger than life characters are critical in this game. I read scripts where the characters are flat. The concept is good, it’s executed well, good set ups and reversals, great set pieces. But there isn’t one defining character. You need a standalone character that makes the reader/producer/audience say WOW, this guy/girl is amazing. I’ve learned that after BRAKE and I’m still learning that today. Actors want to play timeless characters. Look around: Han Solo, John McClane, Butch Cassidy, Sundance Kid, Beatrix Kiddo, Anton Chigurh, Lisbeth Salander, Hans Landa, Tyler Durden, The Dude, Clarice Starling, Ellen Ripley. You name it. It’s why people go to the theater.

SS: What lessons have you taken away from Brake specifically? After watching it go from your personal laptop to digital celluloid?

TM: I’m still processing this to be honest. But I did learn that anything is possible in this industry. You can be a nobody one morning and then your inbox is flooded with emails and your phone is ringing with people who love your work by lunch. And that – ironically – doesn’t happen overnight, but it’s possible! Anything is possible… AS LONG AS YOU KEEP WRITING.

SS: A lot of writers want to know (specifically) how to land an agent or manager. Could you go into detail about the process of landing a manager/agent? Starting with how long it took after your very first query to land representation?

TM: I queried on my second script. Thought it was awesome. It was a mess. Same story with every writer, I guarantee it. Even the ones who have broken in have this story. My third script didn’t leave my computer, no one has ever read it. I was kind of rep-shook at that point. Rejection always hurts. But everyone has been there. The forth script was BRAKE and that was taken off the table before I ever sent queries out to managers, so I did it backwards. But then I landed a manager with cold email queries. It didn’t take long because I had small success. I had several offers of representation. Hell, I have a great story where a management company called me 11 months after the initial query for BRAKE was sent. I let this manager go for 5 minutes about what he liked about the script, where he thought it might need a slight tweak, then I told him the script was already sold, shot and in post-production. He just laughed and said congratulations. Things like managers/agents are nothing to worry about until your script is READY. And by ready, I mean great. Everyone wants to rush to that step, but in doing so you bypass the most important part: the writing. 

SS: Any advice you might have for other screenwriters out there? Guys who were in your position a couple of years ago? How can they become a paid screenwriter ASAP?

TM: Advice is hard to give because who I am, really? The only thing I can tell you is if you want to do this, you have to do your homework before you start the writing. Concept, concept, concept. Character, character, character. Nail them down. Don’t waste time if you want to make a career out of this. These two points are critical. And trust me, in the last couple of days I suffered from not taking my own advice. Screenwriting is as hard as it is. So don’t set up roadblocks that hinder. You’re supposed to be doing that to your characters! And most of all, keep writing. If you stop, you’re done. If you don’t, you’re still alive. Anything is possible. Oh, and if you want a shortcut to get paid, write something that can be done on the cheap. People are committing less and less money to financing these days. But a small, compelling piece of work can be scooped up because it’s low risk, high reward. That’s simple logic that gets passed over, but it’s true.

Red-hot screenwriter Aron Eli Coleite bursts into the Top 10 of 2011’s Black List with his end-of-the-world screenplay, “The End.”

Genre: Drama/Sci-fi/Apocalypse
Premise: (from Black List) Four people – a veteran broadcaster in London, a sixteen year old girl and her best friend in Ann Arbor, and a devoted family man in Shanghai – each try to make peace with their lives before an interstellar event ends the world in six hours.
About: This script was purchased by Warner Brothers and made the 2011 Black List, finishing with the 9th best tally of the pack (28 votes). Writer Aron Coleite’s career has really picked up in the last year. The former Crossing Jordan and Heroes writer recently wrote an episode of ABC’s new show, The River (co-created by Scriptshadow Top 25’er “The Voices” writer, Michael R. Perry), sold a pitch to New Regency for mid-six figures (a supernatural prison break movie), and also sold a new procedural to Jerry Bruckheimer. I’d say that’s a pretty good year. Too bad he’s chosen to end the world before he can enjoy all that success.
Writer: Aron Eli Coleite
Details: 104 pages, September 23, 2011 draft (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

I used to love end-of-the-world screenplays. We all know how I feel about Seeking A Friend At The End Of The World (which just came out with its first trailer! Hooray!). And then of course there’s Top 10 script How It Ends. Since then, however, I’ve read about five of these puppies, and for whatever reason, my Apocalypse funny bone isn’t being tickled anymore. I don’t know if I’m looking for a new angle (puppets maybe?) or if the effect has simply worn off, but I just don’t get jazzed for life as we know it being scrambled in a galactic frying pan anymore.

Part of the reason this script didn’t work for me was because it was a real downer! I mean, this is an extra large serving of depression, hold the onions. Not that that can’t work. Deep Impact – another depressing end of the world movie – brought in a lot of dough. But after reading this I was just like….I need to go buy some ice cream or something. I’m depressed!

The End follows three main characters (in three separate storylines) six hours before the world’s obliterated by a gravitational black hole or something. It’s not clear when the information of the world’s demise is received (Are they just learning about it now or have they known for days – not sure) but the point is, time’s running out!

The first of our characters is a 35 year old Wae, a janitor at a Shangai Wal-Mart who only cares about one thing, finding the perfect egg (the egg must be a very specific measurement – still not sure what that was all about). It’s the middle of the night in Shanghai, and Wae plans to walk home, with the world crumbling around him, so he can make his son an egg for breakfast.

Next there’s Sir John Bainbridge, a 70-something BBC radio personality. While everybody else in the world has run home to their mommies, John’s decided to stay on the air. He is, therefore, the only person on the radio, which means everybody’s tuned into him. What starts off as one man’s assessment of the world’s destruction (and a clever way to dish out exposition) eventually becomes an exploration of a broken old codger’s dysfunctional family.

Finally, there’s Olive, a 16 year old Christian whose family is struggling to make it to church for the End Of Days sermon, which I’m hearing is one of the most popular of the year. It might even beat Christmas. However, as she gets closer, she thinks that instead of spending her final moments listening to some boring priest drone on about, like, death and stuff, she should spend that time with her secret (older) boyfriend! And maybe, if she can find a way to him in time, she can marry him, lose her virginity, all before she’s beamed up to Cloud City. So she enlists the help of her childhood best friend, the goofy “Zebulon,” and the two race against time to make it happen. Of course, while locating everything they need for the wedding, it becomes clear that Zebulon’s secretly in love with Olive.

Okay so we have three separate storylines here. Here’s my opinion on multi-storyline scripts. You better make sure each storyline kicks ass. Cause if even one is average, your movie will suck. Nobody goes to see 2/3 of a good movie.

What USUALLY happens in these scripts, actually, is that the writer has a main storyline idea, but since he wants multiple narratives, comes up with two or three lesser storylines to fill out the script. These stories are never as good as the first one, because they were added after the fact.

Whether one thinks that’s what happened here will depend on the individual, but personally, I thought the only story worth telling was Olive’s. We have a goal (get to the boyfriend and get married), stakes (this means everything to her), and if I have to tell you where the urgency comes from, you’re going on a permanent screenwriting sabbatical. There’s also conflict and dramatic irony (we know Zeb loves her, but she does not), so this storyline really shined.

The next best storyline was Wae’s. Wae does have a clear goal (get back to his kid) but it doesn’t carry the same weight as Olive’s (make breakfast for his kid?). Also, he’s not traveling with any other characters, so there are no opportunities to explore his internal conflict through his relationships, like we see with Olive and Zeb. Instead, the only conflict he experiences is external. This results in some cool sequences (a jousting sword-slicing motorcycle duel), but overall, his trek is relatively uneventful.

That leaves us with the third and least interesting storyline, John the radio personality. To me, this storyline’s purpose was expositional (to give us a running play-by-play of the events as they unfold) with a family storyline shoe-horned in to make it SEEM like it was more than that (something about a brother he never talked to or something). There were no goals, no stakes, and somehow no urgency (despite the world ending in six hours). On top of that, it’s an old man sitting in a room for two hours. So that one was hard to get up for.

That said, there were definitely some cool moments in The End. The gravity bumps will guarantee some “holy shit” moments in the trailers. Watching two people float up above the ground as they kiss with rain shooting upwards around them, yeah – that should sell a few tickets. And when you juxtapose that with a jousting motorcycle duel to the death, I can see some teenagers saying – “dude, we gotta go see that!”

The question is, what will they be seeing? No matter which way you shake it, The End is depressing as hell. It’s like a sci-fi Babel. It makes The Grey look like a bunch of dudes who just won the Anchorage lottery. Not sure how eager people will be to run off and get depressed for two hours. Of course, I could be looking at this the wrong way. Maybe this is about the triumph of the human spirit amongst the end of times. I don’t know. I just wish I didn’t want to curl up with my teddy bear afterwards and cry myself to sleep.

[ ] Wait for the rewrite
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: The best character goals meet two criteria. First, the character must desperately want to achieve the goal. So in Zombieland, even though Tallahassee’s goal was “just” to find a Twinkie, he so desperately wanted to find that Twinkie it was still compelling. Second, the goal itself must be big. So in The Hangover, the goal was to find Doug and get him back to his wedding in time. That’s a big goal. The combination of a BIG GOAL that your wants along with that goal being one he DESPERATELY WANTS TO ACHIEVE is what gives a story the most pop. That’s not to say you always need both of them. Like I just said, Tallahassee’s goal wasn’t big at all. It was merely personal. I’m just saying that your goal won’t be as powerful if it only meets one of those two requirements. That’s how I felt with Wae. I knew how important it was for him to make his son breakfast (personal side of the goal). But just the act of making breakfast wasn’t big enough for me. So I didn’t care if he achieved it or not. Olive’s goal, on the other hand – to get married – that was a goal that was both big (getting married is a big deal!) AND personal (she really really wanted to do it!).

Guest screenplay reviewer Amy Suto buys a box of chocolates in preparation for today’s 2009 Black List script and recent Sundance purchase, Celeste and Jesse Forever.

Hey everybody. As I continue to close in on the book release and re-launch of the site, I once again turn to Scriptshadow readers to help me meet my review quota.  I figured it’s Valentine’s Day (ahem – did you get your significant other something nice yet??) so why not go with a Romantic Comedy! Today’s entry is probably the most controversial entry on 2009’s Black List. The script was so universally panned that the Black List conspiracy theorists were out in full force – and with good reason (I read it and thought it was awful).  But hey, it’s the most love-focused day of the year. It’s a day when you celebrate your significant other.  So maybe guest reviewer Amy Suto will let the mood whisk her away to a positive review….  Maybe. 

Screenwriters everywhere beware. You will not be the same after this review. That’s because this screenplay is…well, I’ll just come out and say it.  It’s puppet noir.

Genre: Puppet Noir
Premise: When a serial killer starts murdering the cast of a once-famous puppet show called The Happytime Gang, two detectives, one a man, one a puppet, try to find the killer before the entire cast is DEAD.
About: The Happytime Murders recently jumped into the Hollywood spotlight when Katherine Heigl came aboard to play one of the leads. There appears to be some confusion over which role Heigl will play though. Reports have her as a detective – yet there are no female detectives in the draft I read. There are, however, some hot and heavy lesbians. So either someone else has been misinformed or they’ve since rewritten one of the leads for a woman. Either way, all this news is just bizarre. I guess it’s only natural that a bizarre script would warrant a bizarre casting choice. Todd Berger, the main writer on the script, most recently penned Kung Fu Panda 2. Learn more about Todd here. He seems like a great guy who worked his butt off to get to this point.
Writer: Todd Berger (story by Todd Berger and Dee Austin Robertson)
Details: 98 pages – 11/24/08 draft (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

No, you didn’t misread the genre. No, you didn’t misread the premise. You wanna know what’s even scarier than not misreading either of those? Going into what you thought was a normal screenplay and reading this opening line: “Detective Phil Phillips stands on the front porch of a farmhouse. Phil is a small blue puppet with shaggy yellow hair and a tired disposition.”

Say-whuh?

Whereas before I was tired and droopy, after this line I straightened up and was ready to go. It was a lesson I’ve preached a thousand times before but it bears repeating. If you come up with something unique and different (GOOD unique and different – not dumb unique and different – there’s a HUGE difference!), you’re going to catch a reader’s interest. Because readers read the same stories over and over again.

It’s only natural, then, that they’d get excited when something out of the norm shows up. However, sitting up doesn’t mean I’m staying up. Yeah, you’ve got my attention, but now you gotta tell a story that’s going to keep it. Hey, I’m rooting for you Weird Puppet Noir Script. If you’re good, it tells writers everywhere that it’s okay to take chances. But if you bore me, you might find yourself as the cheapest item at the next Carson Reeves Yard Sale.

We’ve already met private detective Phil Phillips, the blue puppet detective with a seriously messed up past. Phil used to be a real policeman, partnered with a human, his best friend, a man named Edwards. But then…DUH DUH DUHHHHH… “the incident” happened. Now they hate each other.

In this half-human half-puppet world, puppets are looked at as second class citizens. Especially lately, as puppet-human tensions have risen to an all-time high. You get the feeling that unless something is done soon, bad shit is going to happen.

But instead of something coming along to ease the tension, something comes along to make it worse. Back in the 80s, there used to be this popular puppet show called “The Happytime Gang.” It featured characters like Mr. Bumblypants and Larry Shenanigans. Well, it turns out a huge syndication deal has been made whereby all of those shows are going to play again. Which means one thing: It’s time for these once-famous puppets to get paaaaaid.

But just as the celebration begins, one of the Happytime cast members is killed! Murdered. In cold…puppet…cloth…bits. It’s time to do something about this, Phil says. But unfortunately Phil doesn’t have the kind of access he needs to investigate the case. Which means he’s forced to team with, you guessed it, his old human partner, Edwards.

As the two start looking into the murder, another Happytime member is killed, then another, then another. After some investigating, our detectives find out that that syndication deal is set up so that the money’s split up between the REMAINING members of The Happytime Gang. Which means the less members there are, the more everyone gets paid.

Obviously, this means one of these puppets is killing off the rest so he can get rich! Or…maybe…wait……um, he’s killing MOST of the Happytime members because if he kills them all, then finding the killer would be pretty easy. So I think he’s killing most of them. Actually, I’m not sure. But who cares. It’s puppet noir. Just roll with it.

So let’s jump straight to the business on this one. Hot lesbians. If everything goes right, that’s what Catherine Heigl is playing. Surely her carefully constructed marketing team is begging her not to do this and there’s still no guarantee that she will. But even though Heigl is – hmm, how shall we put this – one of the bitchiest actresses to come along in a long time, she’s still quite talented. And she’s hot. So I’m all for her playing a hot lesbian in a puppet noir. I mean can you imagine her dressed up in a tight black dress, skimpy near the top, a temptress, a vixen, one of those women that has you making inadvertent cat noises whenever you see them. Rreeoowwww. I wouldn’t mind–

Wait a minute, where were we again? Oh yeah, script analysis!

Plotwise, the script is clever as hell. The set-up – A once-famous puppet show going into syndication with all the puppets getting rich off it, resulting in motivation for murder – was really well done. I mean you can go a million different directions in a movie with puppets. I thought this direction was perfect.

We’ve also got GSU here. We have a goal (find the killer) we have stakes (lives are at stake) and we have urgency (the longer it is before they find him, the more puppets die).

But there was just something…missing. Maybe it was our lead, Phil, who I didn’t give a flying puppet about. I didn’t relate to him in any way (yes, I’m complaining about not relating to a puppet – work with me). He’s a big downer actually. But I guess that’s par for the course with the noir genre. That’s how these detectives act. They’re always drinking and droning on about how depressing and miserable their lives are. Which is fine. But it’s hard for me to get onboard with a character like that. And I’m actually confused as to why this genre used to be so popular in the first place. A guy whining on in voice over about how shitty everything is while keeping a permanent buzz? People in the 40s must have been really bored.

Anyway, I don’t think the writers did a very good job of conveying Phil OR Edwards for that matter. For example, we learn early on that Edwards is one of the top cops in taking down puppets, who he seems to hate. But as soon as we learn that, he helps a puppet out when no one’s looking. So does he like puppets? Does he not like puppets? Does he only secretly like puppets? Did he just feel sorry for this one puppet? I didn’t know so I never got a good feel for the guy.

And Phil – I couldn’t tell you anything about him even though he’s the main character, other than he has a goofy “incident” from his past that got him kicked off the force. I think every aspect of him (the drinking, the voice over, the incident from his past) was deliberately steeped in cliché for humorous effect. I suppose that might be funny to lovers of the genre. To me, though, it just made our hero cliché.

Then there was the whole racism allegory, which the writers never fully committed to, so it left you wondering what the point of it was in the first place, other than it was an obvious thing to do. If you’re going to make your script an allegory, then make sure the thing you’re allegory-izing is part of the plot. The racism stuff had nothing to do with the main plot (puppets being killed for monetary reasons).

This is a hard script to judge. I love how wacky it is. I love the plot setup. Structurally, everything is in place. I LOVE when writers take chances so I have to give it to these two for coming up with this in the first place. By all measurements, this is a well-written professional screenplay. And yet, the combination of a main character I didn’t care about, my dislike of the genre (not their fault), and execution that felt a little too on-the-nose, leaves me feeling let down. For that reason, it barely misses a “worth the read.”

[ ] Wait for the rewrite
[x] wasn’t for me (but an interesting read nonetheless!)
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: I can’t stress this enough. The people who I see moving up the ladder the fastest are people who go out there and do it themselves. I know we’re writers. I know we’re all lazy. But people look at you differently when you’re out there doing shit. I bumped into a girl, Cathy, on Twitter the other day, a writer who told me she was editing her latest film. Immediately in the back of my mind, I noted her as someone to watch out for. Because she was making a damn film! Instead of waiting around for things to happen! This is the approach writer Todd Berger took to get to this point. He wrote and directed short after short after short, finally getting enough attention to nab some big writing jobs. Most recently, he wrote Kung Fu Panda 2, and is up for some other huge Hollywood projects. We even have a long-time Scriptshadow reader who just wrote an award-winning short. I see her in a completely different way now. Simply because she didn’t wait for that Willy Wonka golden ticket but went out there and made her own ticket. Go out there and do it yourself. Hell, connect with some people right here on Scriptshadow. Write a short and shoot it. Stop waiting!

Writer of one of my Top 25 favorite screenplays takes a few moments to share his experiences with Scriptshadow Nation.

Brian Duffield shot onto the scene with his Black List script, “Your Bridesmaid Is A Bitch,” about a young man who must endure a wedding weekend around his ex-girlfriend, who he’s still trying to get over.  Since then, he’s sold two screenplays, “Worst Honeymoon Ever” and “Jane Got A Gun.” I think you guys will enjoy this interview because, as you’ll find out, Brian broke in purely on talent, not because he was best friends with Steven Spielberg or something. Follow Brian on Twitter @BrianDuffield or check out his blog.

How did you get into screenwriting? Was it completely independent of what you were doing before or had you done other types of writing as well? 

I was a big pop culture geek growing up in Pennsylvania, and when I was nine my family moved to middle-of-nowhere Ireland. I remember our tiny school had some movie novelizations and, since we lived nowhere near a movie theatre, those more or less became my movie substitute. I think when I was around fourteen or fifteen I knew I wanted to be a writer and had the massive revelation that scripts were much shorter than novels, plus they would be turned into movies. That sounded pretty awesome to me, and I haven’t grown out of it yet. I really don’t have anything to fall back on besides prostitution, so fingers crossed I don’t have to grow out of it anytime soon.

When you first started, was it easier than you expected or more difficult? What was the most difficult thing about the craft for you in those early days?

I don’t ever remember writing screenplays being “difficult,” but it took years and years before it seemed like something that could potentially be a real career instead of something I dreamed of doing but didn’t actually think could happen, like going to Mars or working at Jurassic Park.

The most difficult thing about starting to write screenplays is that I just had no idea how to do it. I think it’s safe to say I was the only person I knew who wanted to be a screenwriter until I went to college. I didn’t have any screenwriting books, but I remember when people started uploading classic scripts onto html and txt back in the day. It was better than Christmas. By the time I got to college I had a lot of unique writing habits that came out of teaching myself what I thought a screenplay should be like.

I was also obsessed with Jeff Goldsmith’s Q+A’s with screenwriters that he’d put on iTunes – I’m not sure when he started putting those out, but I honestly found those more educational and helpful than college. He’s not even paying me to say that. I think a big part of that was just hearing the voices and stories of real screenwriters. It made the career less of a fantasy and more of a possibility.

After how many scripts did you start to feel like you had a grip on screenwriting? Was it “Your Bridesmaid Is A Bitch,” or was it a script before that? What would you say was that “ah-ha” moment that got you over the hump?

I’m still not sure I feel like I have a grip on screenwriting. I feel like I’m getting better at it in general but I’m constantly terrified everything I write is garbage. I think the first time I felt really proud of something I wrote was in college when I wrote a man-in-suit monster movie about mankind’s need for a god, and I think the reason that one clicked for me was because I realized pretty early on that no one else would probably think to tackle these questions I had about faith with dudes in giant monster suits beating the crap out of each other. That was a pretty big moment for me, because I think I finally understood that even if what I had to say was completely idiotic, there probably weren’t too many other writers out there that would say it like I would.
I think YBIAB was something like my tenth script. It was the first one people paid attention to and I haven’t really shown the earlier scripts to anyone in LA. They served their purpose and I’m proud of them but I’m more interested in what I’m going to write next than rewriting some lousy script I wrote when I was 18.

Many writers want to know if they should write something personal to them and not worry about its marketability, or write something marketable, even if their heart and soul isn’t as into it. Which one of those was “Your Bridesmaid Is A Bitch,” and what’s your opinion on the matter? 

For my specs, I don’t really see any reason why personal and marketable can’t go hand in hand. I just read this amazing quote by Jonatham Lethem which went “every book is an inadvertent journal” and I think that (should be) exactly true for screenwriting as well. I also just really wanted to be cool and drop a quote in this interview.

I think there’s a lot of really good screenwriters who reveal nothing about themselves in their movies, and I think you can tell instantly who that may or may not be when reading their script. Personally, I’d always like to err on the exposing too much side of things, because as a viewer/reader those are the movies I latch on to the most. I think some of the greatest blockbusters of all time are also some of the most personal movies ever made. There’s no reason why you can’t do both. I know a lot of people say they hate “Hollywood” movies, but I think what they mean is they hate bad Hollywood movies, in the same way they’d probably hate bad indie movies. The difference being bad indie movies generally never get seen by anyone.

I can source every script I’ve ever written to a particular feeling I was struggling with or issue I was trying to sort out in brain. And when you make those personal problems a character’s problem, just take all the stakes they’d be going through as far as they possibly could go. For “YBIAB,” I think it came out of a) a string of really terrible relationships, b) everyone getting married around me and c) perpetually being afraid to see an ex at a wedding. I don’t really see how I write scripts to be any less biographical than how Taylor Swift writes songs about all the boys she’s angry at, except sometimes I add explosions and dinosaurs. Which Taylor Swift should really do as well.

How did all of this lead to you finding your manager and agent? Were you sending out naked query letters? Did you build up contacts, one of which finally got a script of yours to someone important? How did that happen?

The space between getting a manager, an agent, and selling YBIAB was probably about two weeks long. It was October and I was working at a clothing factory in Vernon, CA and I wasn’t actively sending the script out anywhere. I had worked a string of typical crappy assistant jobs and had reached my breaking point, so I was just trying to regroup and work with people that smiled and shit like that and I didn’t really care that I was “outside” of Hollywood at the time.

I had finished YBIAB the previous December and shown it to some of the industry people I knew and nothing had come of it. I had given it to some pals of mine out here and one of them, a Mr. Matt Downing, gave it to a friend of his he played basketball with who worked at Circle of Confusion. I’m not really sure what the time gap was between Matt giving it to Zach (Cox, now my manager) and Zach reaching out to me. But eventually I met with Zach, Noah Rosen and David Engle at Circle of Confusion and they said they wanted to manage me and try to sell the script. And I thought that sounded cool since I was working at a clothing factory in Vernon, and they then sold it a week or two later. I got my agents (Devra Lieb and Bayard Maybank at Gersh) around the time it sold. I got really lucky because my managers and agents are about as far from being douche bags as possible.

You’ve had a few sales now and a few scripts on the Black List. In your experience, what’s the determining factor that leads to a script sale? What should other writers be focusing on? 

I feel like every week my opinion on this changes. Look, a lot of amazing scripts never sell and a lot of horrible ones do. It’s just the nature of Hollywood. At this point, I try to just write the best script I can and as soon as I turn it in, I try to pour all my energy into the next one. Possibly because I’m a neurotic pessimist, I just assume none of my scripts will sell. If I had to tell other writers going through the spec market how to handle it, I’d just say to ignore it as much as possible.

You work in comedy, which is the most competitive genre on the spec market. In your opinion, what’s the most important thing about making a comedy script work? 

For me, probably the fact that I’ve never thought of myself as a comedy writer. I think my last spec, “Jane Got A Gun,” is relatively unfunny. For “YBIAB” I never sat down and thought “time to write a rom-com” and I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever write another straight forward rom-com again. I kind of viewed YBIAB as a horror film because at the time it was literally one of the scariest ideas I’ve ever had. I also thought of it like a war film, because whenever I had been cheated on in the past it felt like I was suddenly plunged into a battle with some other dude who had spent all this time building his defenses and arsenal, while I was just flailing about. Noah, the lead character, never realizes he’s in a romance or a comedy, and I think that’s the key. He really just wants to survive this wedding. He’s not looking for love and he’s not trying to make anyone laugh. I’m not really sure I ever thought any particular scene had to be funny. I remember watching “The 25th Hour” a night or two after getting dumped and when Ed Norton has his big “Fuck You New York!” scene, it really affected me because I felt the exact same way, just about a girl. I wanted to include that in YBIAB not because it was funny but because it’s the farthest thing from funny to Noah and those feelings felt honest to me.

I think, in short, break-ups are the funniest thing ever in hindsight and the least funny thing ever when you’re in the middle of them.

I’ve never been too married to genre conventions. Some of my favorite movies are absolutely hilarious but you’d never find them in the comedy section, and vice versa. I think it changes from project to project. I know I tune out when characters act like they’re in a comedy and they’re begging for you to laugh at them, so I try to avoid that as often as possible.

Comedies and romantic comedies usually require a likable main character. How conscious are you of creating a “likable” hero or do you not pay attention to that stuff? Are there any instances in “Bridesmaid” you can point to where you’d say, “I deliberately wrote this scene so that you’d like my main character?”

I don’t necessarily agree that characters need to be likable, I think they just need to be watchable.

With YBIAB though I thought it was important that the reader is rooting for Noah. A dick being upset over getting cheated on isn’t very watchable. Before he gets to the wedding, I wanted to show that even though he was hurting, he was still doing the best he could. He loved his family, had friends that cared for him and most of all, he didn’t want to be depressed and hung up on this girl anymore. He was doing everything he could to be better and be a better person. He wasn’t lounging around being depressed – he was out in the world, he was working out, he was going on dates, he even moved to a new city – but he was just stuck. I think that feeling of being stuck is pretty relatable. Or at least I hope it is and I’m not the only weirdo that’s felt like that before.

I wanted to establish all of this because I knew how easy it would be for him to just become a whiny little bitch boy, and I knew how easy it would be to lose the entire female audience if this depressed asshole kept calling this girl who left him for a better man a bitch.

What’s your approach to structure? Are you a traditionalist or do you not think about 3 acts when you’re writing? Some people like to be as specific as breaking down their screenplay into 20 or so “beats.” What’s your method? 

I’m staunchly against Blake Snyder type beat sheets and ordering out pages for scenes. I used to write outlines and found that once I got into the script writing I would want to break from the guideline 100% of the time. For me, those outlines really restricted my creative freedom and from letting the characters lead. I know that sounds douchey, but I think a lot of the fun in writing specs for me is just letting them evolve and change.
I think the best argument I have for this is the fact that my last spec, “Jane Got A Gun,” started out as a modern day reluctant road trip movie between two guys. And now it’s a western with a female lead. I realized while I was working on my thoughts or beats for the project that the story I was trying to tell was much more interesting from the woman’s point of view, and once I knew that I tried to figure out what setting her character would be the most affective and interesting in. If I had blocked myself into a rigid outline I never would have felt I had the freedom to go as far off track as I did. The most outlining I wound up doing on that script was a series of post-it notes on my wall so I could keep track of everyone I had shot.

For studios/assignments outlines and structures like that are vital, because it’s so much more of a team effort than specs. With my specs, I never show anyone anything until I’ve done a draft that I’m proud of. It gives me the freedom to be a moron and it’s both the most frustrating and exciting part of writing for me.

I was a script reader for a few years and I found that I never gave a crap about people’s structure, I just cared when a) something was terrible and b) something was boring. At the end of the day, that’s really all anyone cares about. Just figure out what works best for you.

Did you ever enter screenwriting contests? If so, how did your scripts do? What’s your opinion on entering contests overall?

I submitted a couple times when I was in college. I think I got some honorable mentions or quarter final shout outs a few times. The best thing that happened through those is that it helped convince me that I wasn’t the worst writer of all time. I don’t see anything wrong with submitting to them, as long as if you don’t put too much stock in their opinion of what you write.

I’m sure with your recent success, you’re taking a lot of meetings around town. For future writers, what should they be prepared for in these meetings? What is it they should be looking to get out of them? 

Be prepared for everything. I’ve made some really close friends out of general meetings, and I’ve had some bizarre generals where I’m 99% sure they hate everything I’ve written. Sometimes people have really cool ideas to pitch you and sometimes they’re really horrible and you have to fake enthusiasm. When I started out a year ago I was terrified all day every day because it’s like going to a dateapalooza (I’ve never been, I’m just guessing, I swear) and I’m typically pretty shy. But for the most part, they’re meeting you because they liked what you wrote, and they’re looking to start a relationship with you. I think going on generals has forced me to come out of my shell a lot more, which probably isn’t a bad thing.

If you could go back in time and do it over again, what would you have changed as a screenwriter to accelerate your success? 

I honestly have no idea. I’m sure there are some things I could have done differently, or done better, but I’m thankful that it happened at all so I’m not going to nitpick too much. If present me could time travel back to crying-in-the-shower-because-I-kept-get-cheated-on past me and tell him that it was all just research for the first script I would sell, I would probably do that.