Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts

Wednesday, 24 July 2019

So, You Want to be a Screenwriter...?

Image Copyright Bleecker Films etc

From time to time, I get asked how to get into this business. I've done talks and workshops etc. I've done my best to mentor. And I've ended up with an A5 leaflet which I thrust into the eager hands of those wanting my advice.

I thought it might be worth sharing it with the world. So, here it is...



Screenwriting


“To make a great film you need three things – the script, the script and the script.”

Alfred Hitchcock


“Screenwriting is the most prized of all the cinematic arts. Actually, it isn’t, but it should be.”

Hugh Laurie


What does a Screenwriter do?

A Screenwriter writes stories for film and television drama. Some people imagine the screenwriter just writes the dialogue, but there’s much more to it than that. The dialogue’s the easy bit.

A screenwriter has to invent the entire story – the concept, the ideas, the theme, the genre, the tone, the setting, the structure, the pacing, the directions, the characters, the situations, the scenes, and, yes, the dialogue. Everything you see on screen began life with the screenwriter putting words on a blank piece of paper.

But the difference between a screenplay and other forms of storytelling is that the screenplay is just a blueprint. Nobody reads screenplays for entertainment (except other screenwriters). Screenplays are there to be turned into film and television drama. They are technical documents. It takes an army of directors, producers, actors etc to turn that story into something that can be watched and enjoyed – to bring the writer’s vision to life.

Qualifications/Training

What qualifications do you need to become a screenwriter? What training is required?

Formal training

It is possible to do a degree in screenwriting (particularly in the States), though it is more frequently done as just one module in a general media or film-making course. Screenwriting courses are more often offered as post-graduate MAs, or there are various part-time courses. But most screenwriters I know don’t seem to bother.

Teach yourself

Most screenwriters have little or no formal training for the job. Some have been obsessed with screenplays or film-making for years, and just taught themselves. Others have stumbled into it from other kinds of writing. But, in most cases, they have learnt by doing it. Writers write. They usually talk about it quite a lot as well, but the main thing is that they write, and they keep on writing, getting better all the time, until they produce something worth reading. Then they write some more, and improve some more, until they have something worth making.

Breaking in

Breaking in to screenwriting can be very frustrating. Would-be-screenwriters often struggle to write in the evenings and at weekends, while holding down a day job to survive. Gradually they’ll build up a portfolio and a reputation until they begin to make real contacts in the industry. At some stage, they have to persuade an agent to represent them and then, slowly, paid work might start coming in.

If you’re lucky, or determined enough, you might find a day job with direct relevance, such as being a runner on a film set, or a TV researcher or script assistant. Others have careers in completely different kinds of work. And that’s not such a bad idea, because the odds are always against you. There are many more “wannabe” screenwriters, than there are professionals. And of those professionals, a frightening number don’t make enough to live on. Having a second string to your bow might save you from starvation, and might even turn out to be what you really wanted to do all along.

Most people who want to be screenwriters fail - they’re not good enough, not lucky enough, or not determined enough. But, if it’s what you want to do, then the struggle is worth it.

Career Path

There isn’t really a career path for screenwriters. You are self-employed, and at the whim of producers and script editors. It’s a question of building up contacts and a reputation.

Television

In television, your first commission (after years of effort) is likely to be a half hour episode of daytime soap – something like the BBC’s “Doctors.” 

Keep going, and you might progress to episodes of bigger soaps (EastEnders, Coronation Street, Emmerdale, Hollyoaks, Casualty, Holby City). Some people get to this stage and decide they’re happy – it’s certainly about the “steadiest” job in screenwriting. Sitcoms are another way in, though the chances of a “newbie” being offered an episode are less, and the work is not so steady.

Once you are known and respected, then the chances are that you might be asked to write episodes of long-running series or serials – the sort of drama you’ll find on most mainstream channels at nine o’clock. You’re still working on other people’s programmes, but you’re much more responsible for that episode’s content.

But what most TV writers aspire to is their own show – a one-off, a series or a serial – that elusive “created by” credit.  

Film

The number of screenwriters making a living in film in the UK is tiny. Which is sad, because most screenwriters come to the business because they want to make films. There are always opportunities to make shorts, or low-to-no-budget films, but you will probably end up paying for the privilege. If you’re good enough, or lucky enough, then Hollywood might beckon. But don’t count on it. Most working screenwriters in the UK earn their living writing for television.


Rewards

Creative

There’s nothing quite like starting from scratch and creating a piece of drama that is watched, shared and enjoyed by millions. And it’s yours – your vision, your idea, your story. I make up stories, and people pay me to do it! Wonderful!

Financial

For those at the very top, screenwriting can earn you millions. But I haven’t seen much of it. If you get as far as writing regularly for television, then you will earn a respectable sum, but probably not enough to, say, put your kids through private education. But then, you’re not doing it for the money, are you?

Lifestyle

This one’s a winner. You might have to work through the night occasionally to meet a deadline, but most days you work the hours you want, when you want. You work from home – no horrid commuting. You want a day off – it’s yours. Your kid falls sick and can’t go to school – no problem. If you want to stay in your pyjamas all day, no-one will ever know.

Negatives

Artistic integrity

Screenwriting is a collaborative process. You can’t actually just write whatever you want – someone has to film it, and it has to be practical and reasonable. And, if you’re writing for, say, “EastEnders” most of the story’s produced by the series story editors. If you’re at all “precious” about your art, then forget it. Screenwriting is an art, but it’s also a business and, often, you are simply a writer for hire.

Insecurity

You’re self-employed. No monthly salary, no sick pay, no annual leave, no job security, and no pension. You’re only as secure as your next commission, and only as good as your last script.

Working alone

Working at home has huge advantages. But it also leaves you alone all day, with no work colleagues, no friends, and within easy reach of the temptations of the fridge and the kettle. Loneliness and self-motivation can be real issues, particularly if the work isn’t going well.

On balance...

I can’t think of a job I’d rather do.


So, you still want to be a

screenwriter...?


Watch

Watch films. Watch TV (drama, not Love Island). If you don’t love drama, and watch it, why would you want to be a screenwriter? Think about what you’re watching. Re-watch it. Watch with the script to hand. Make notes. What works? What doesn’t?

Read

Read scripts (see below for where to find them). Read “How to...” books on screenwriting. Read anything else that comes your way – it’s all good for inspiration. Read more scripts.

Write

A writer writes. Write a screenplay. Start with a five-minute short. Keep going. Write other stuff – poetry, lyrics, short stories, novels, journalism, plays. You might discover you’d rather do those than screenwriting. And they’ll all stretch your storytelling muscles.

Make a film

Make a short film. Write the script and get together with others to make it. Use a camcorder, or just your phone. Try producing, directing and acting (you might discover you prefer those). Work out what worked and what didn’t. Then write a better script.

More Info

Books

Into the Woods, by John Yorke
Story, by Robert McKee
The Definitive Guide to Screenwriting, by Syd Field
The Writer’s Journey, by Christopher Vogler
Adventures in the Screen Trade, by William Goldman
The Writer’s Tale, by Russell T Davies and Benjamin Cook

Websites

BBC Writers’ Room, at www.bbc.co.uk/writersroom
Danny Stack’s website and blog, at www.dannystack.com
Scriptuality, my own rather neglected Blog, at www.scriptuality.blogspot.co.uk
Drew’s Script-O-Rama, at www.script-o-rama.com/snazzy/table.html
The Internet Movie Data Base, at www.imdb.com

Saturday, 9 January 2010

Wise words.

I've never really given much advice on how to be a screenwriter. I've never really felt qualified.

But I do now have a very useful tip for anyone reading this who is, or who wants to be, a professional writer. Or an amateur. Or, actually, anyone who might not want to be a writer at all. In fact, everyone.

And my tip is...







... read Phill Barron's blog post on The Road to Happiness.

He has wise words to say. Which is more than I ever manage.

Tuesday, 10 November 2009

Jimmy McGovern Interview

The BBC Writers' Room has an interview with Mr Jimmy McGovern.

I don't always agree with the man, but he has some interesting stuff to say - well worth ten minutes of your time.

And I did like this bit...

Q. For many writers the thought of going to write on a continuing drama series makes them worry they are going to lose their individuality, their voice, who they are. What would you say to that?

A. Get real. You should be so lucky. There are brilliant writers on Coronation Street, on EastEnders. I know sometimes it can look naff, but that's often down to other things. These are really good writers. If you get the chance to write something that goes out in front of eight million, nine million people, how dare you turn your nose up at that? You should give your right arm for it. I loved and hated the show I worked on. But mostly I loved it.

If you get the chance to write for a soap opera the first thing you do is fall in love with it and every single character on it. Okay hate them as well but love them and live and breathe it. Eat and sleep it. Be ever so grateful that you've got the chance to do this. Then eventually after eight, nine, ten years you might get the chance to do a single drama and that's your chance.


Not sure about the eight, nine or ten years though!

Tuesday, 15 September 2009

"I Will Not Read Your Fucking Script"

You've seen this already, of course. Josh Olsen's curt explanation for why he will not read your fucking script.

But have you heard Harlan Ellison reading the Dr Seuss version, scripted by a genius by the name of Steve Jarrett?

You should. It will put a smile on your face that will last all day.

Thursday, 16 April 2009

The Dover Castle



It's a pub. An ordinary London pub.

Who would have guessed that some of Britain's finest scriptwriting minds gather there from time to time? And that so much wisdom is shared so selflessly within its unassuming walls?

Honestly, if the controllers, commissioners, producers, directors, script editors and critics of this world could only have access to the collective insights we shared last night, then British (nay, global) television would truly enter a Golden Age.

Thursday, 26 March 2009

Starting

OK, so I've been working on my spec project, Project X (I must stop calling it "Project X" or people will start thinking that's what it's called. From now on it's "OPFK").

It's 6 x 60 minutes. Series with a wee bit of serial. Post-watershed. Genre. Think CSI meets Minority Report meets Casualty meets... hmm.

Anyway, the intention was to write a pilot. A first episode.

But you have to know where you're going, right? And you have to know the world inside out. And you have to be confident that you've got enough stories to fill six hours of prime time television to bursting point. With something in reserve for Series Two.

So, I've been working on the outlines of a Series Bible - character sketches, story outlines, fleshing out the world of OPFK, tying down the structure of a typical episode.

It's been fun. And, the more I do it, the richer it all becomes. But, sooner or later, I have to do some actual real proper writing.

I love this concept. I love the stories. And I really can't wait to start writing it. So why, now the moment has come, do I feel reluctant to get started?

Tuesday, 17 March 2009

TV's James Moran reveals the Big Secret

Finally, the world's most productive, workaholic screenwriter has found the time to finish his long-awaited Q&A.

If you've come to Scriptuality looking for advice, you're in the wrong place. So, just pop over to James' place and get the complete picture. All truth is here.

Okay, this is a closely held secret, that all of us professionals try to keep you from discovering, but I'm going to break the code of silence and tell you: TV/film producers are looking for GOOD STUFF. That's it. Don't waste time wondering what genre or type of story is "in" right now, as by the time you write it, sell it, get it made and released, something else will be "in". Any time a producer or channel says "we're not looking for X, and Y doesn't work", ignore it - if they got a script that was fucking amazing, about X *and* Y, they'd snap it up. Things don't work until they do. The second you start trying to tailor something to the market, your script will suffer. If you have a story to tell, something you're dying to get out into the world, write that. Write from the heart, put your soul, blood, sweat and tears into it. And it'll get you noticed (if it's good, obviously). Producers want to see your original voice, not something you think they want, or a carbon copy of whatever's popular at the moment.

James Moran 2009.

Wednesday, 28 January 2009

The Bill, Heartbeat, The Royal

The Bill's being cut by 50%.

Heartbeat and The Royal are being wound up.

That's a lot of regular work just gone down the drain. It might not be my work, but there's a whole bunch of writers who would have been writing those shows, earning a living and paying the mortgage. Now, they're going to be looking elsewhere - in the same places I'm looking.

Not good news.

Saturday, 17 January 2009

Unforgiven

Just caught up with this on ITV's sorry excuse for an iPlayer.

Pretty darn good (the drama, not "ITV Catch Up", which I notice is now branded itvPlayer - that's shameless!)

But what made me really jealous was the simplicity of the the premise. I've been spending some time recently trying to come up with new ideas for TV drama. It's almost always doomed to failure. My best ideas tend to just happen when I'm not looking, so sitting down with pen and a blank sheet of paper trying to be spontaneous doesn't often produce the goods.

Or, it does. And I think I've got the next big thing. And then I look again a few days later and all I have is some convoluted mish mash that's impossible to pitch.

But...

Imagine a 15 year-old girl put away for the cold-blooded murder of two policemen. Flash forward 17 years, and what happens when she's let out?


That is such a great idea.

Can't wait for Part 2.


EDIT...

I've just read in Broadcast that Sally Wainwright "dreamt the story one night in 2007". So, there I was expressing my admiration for the clarity of her vision and wishing I could replicate it, and it was all a dream! I think I'll spend the afternoon in bed.

Wednesday, 7 January 2009

Next month...

I have nothing lined up for next month. No work. No commissions. No nothing.

On the one hand, this is a bad thing. Work is good. Not having any is not so good.

On the other hand, I haven't written anything of my own for a very long time. You won't catch me complaining about the Writers' Academy, but I have been immersed in Doctors, Casualty, Holby City and EastEnders for a year and a half now. It's been great, but I do miss having the freedom to just write whatever I want.

February is still a few weeks away, and you never know what might turn up. But a part of me is hoping that nothing does. I feel the need for a Spec script...

Friday, 12 December 2008

Thanks for all the fish.

Something's been bothering me.

You might have noticed that I didn't have much to say about my EastEnders experiences. And that I got through an episode of Holby City with scarcely a single blog entry.

In fact, I've said nothing much of any interest for a while.

There is a reason for this.

It isn't that my experiences on those two shows were so awful that I couldn't write about them. Far from it.

It's because I'm beginning to think it's no longer appropriate. Maybe even that it's not very "professional". There, I said it.

This Blog has been all about me - my attempts to break into the industry. And hopefully it has been useful reading for others in the same boat.

But this isn't a private discussion over a beer in The Dover Castle. It's a public blog. And, increasingly, I'm finding that I have a wider readership than I ever expected to get. I'll introduce myself to someone in the industry and they'll say "Ah, Scriptuality". Or "I like your shed". Or "how are the kids?"

Well, I don't mind that. It's quite fun. And it raises my profile as a writer (though not always in a positive light).

But sometimes I put myself in the position of a script editor asked to work with a writer who's a blogger. How happy would I be at the idea that all the ups and downs in the relationship, all the inevitable frustrations of hammering out a TV script are put up on the web for all to see?

OK, so I don't name names. But everyone else who works with them knows who they are.

And, genuinely, I have been extremely lucky to have had a succession of lovely, wonderful script editors on the shows I've worked on so far. And not one of them has ever complained about my blogging. Thank you, one and all. From time to time I might have disagreed with a note or two, but you have taught me so much.

I don't know whether blogging about the work we've done together has always been entirely fair. If it ever felt awkward, thank you for hiding it so well. And, I'm sorry.

But one of these days I'm going to be unlucky. I'm going to get a script editor who I just don't get on with. Or someone who takes every comment I might make personally.

So, I have come to a decision - no more running commentary.

I'll still pop up from time to time to let anyone who's still interested know what I'm up to. And I might comment on general writing issues. But no more heart-on-my-sleeve descriptions of the inner workings of TV scriptwriting. Sorry.

It's been fun.

Wednesday, 3 December 2008

Tuesday, 7 October 2008

The Maybe

I'm just about to start writing my first episode of Holby City. Actually writing. Putting the words down on the page.

I got notes back on my treatment at the end of last week. Not bad. But they want some changes. And they themselves have made some changes to the storyline and the characters which means, in turn, that I have to make further changes to incorporate their changes.

And then, of course, there's the enormous gulf between the stuff you put down on a scene-by-scene treatment, and what you put into the script itself. As soon as you start thinking about writing those scenes you realise how hopelessly unrealistic your treatment was, and how unimaginative, and how... boring.

So, I've spent the last few days winding myself up to the point where I can take all that input (the treatment, the notes, the changes, and the realisation that it all needs more oomph) and channel it into an opening scene. And then I just hope to God that the momentum takes me forward and all the way through to the end.

Russell T, in his new book, talks about "the Maybe".

by the time I come to write, a lot has been decided. Also, a lot hasn't been decided, but I trust myself, and scare myself, that it'll happen in the actual writing. It all exists in my head, but in this soup. It's like the ideas are fluctuating in this great big quantum state of Maybe. The choices look easy when recounted later, but that's hindsight. When nothing is real and nothing is fixed, it can go anywhere. The Maybe is a hell of a place to live. As well as being the best place in the world.

Not that I'm comparing myself to the man himself, but I know what he means. As soon as you commit anything to paper, then you narrow down your options - the Maybe becomes a more restricted space. Every creative choice you make shuts off certain alleyways, guides the narrative away from... well, from who-knows-what? Who knows where the story might have gone if you hadn't made the choices you make?

The Maybe contains great stories. I mean really great stories. The best stories I or anyone else could possibly tell, the iconic myths of the future, are all contained in the Maybe. And every time you try to extract them, the result disappoints. It's prosaic. Boring. It doesn't live up to that vision of the story which floated around in the Maybe, goading you.

And that is why I procrastinate. It's why I'm writing this Blog rather than getting on with Scene 1. As soon as I write the opening words, I'm beginning the process of destroying the-story-that-never-was. Of course, I'm also beginning the process of writing the-story-that-will-be. It might not live up to my hopes and expectations, but it will actually exist on paper and, hopefully, on screen. The-story-that-never-was only exists in the Maybe, and it's the sacrifice I have to make if I'm going to produce this episode of Holby City.

But can you blame me for wanting to delay the destruction of something so beautiful, for the sake of something so flawed and mundane?