Jim Vines: Novelist?

I used to be a screenwriter. Well, actually, I haven’t stopped being a screenwriter; I’ve merely put the brakes on it. See, for twenty or so years I lived a screenwriter’s life. I wrote spec after spec, I queried, I went to meetings, I sold some scripts, I optioned a bunch more, and I garnered many writing assignments. I even had a couple of movies produced (one was released; the other sits on the shelf awaiting a release that may or may not ever come). It’s been a fun ride, and I’ve made a few bucks, but a couple years ago I looked at myself in the mirror and asked:  “Good heavens, man, WHAT are you doing?!”

I was thinking of all the spec scripts I had written over the years. I’ve lost track, but maybe there are 30 or 40 of them.  All those stories! All those characters! All that work!  A vast majority of those scripts now sit in a storage bin, all but forgotten. Now, don’t get me wrong, if you want to be a writer, the work itself has to be enjoyable—and it has been VERY enjoyable—and I realize that some of those unsold scripts led me to other paying assignments, but after a while you start realize how cool it would’ve been to actually share those now-buried stories with the rest of the world.

Think about it. If you write a screenplay, it goes to your agent and/or manager, and to some producers and development execs (if you’re lucky, that is), maybe a few actors and their agents, and maybe a few of your friends read it, but it usually doesn’t go much further than that. It’s not like you’re gonna publish it somewhere…because nobody other than a screenwriter wants to read a motion picture screenplay. The sad truth of the matter is: If a script doesn’t get produced, if it doesn’t get made into a movie, that great story of yours is relegated to the dark void known as obscurity.  Ah, but this is not necessarily so with a novel, especially nowadays with the self-publishing boom.  A writer can pen their tome and, with a few clicks of a mouse, send that book out into the world. Now, the entire world probably won’t read your book, but if you play your cards right, you can find several hundred to tens of thousands of eager readers who will. Having several thousand people reading my story? That sounds mighty good to me!

So a couple years ago I sat down with a yellow legal pad and a pen and began writing my first novel. From the first page the words just flowed and flowed. I really enjoyed the lack of restraint, the relative lack of “rules” I had to follow compared to writing a screenplay (and we all know screenplays have plenty of rules). I can honestly say that I enjoyed writing this first novel more than any script I ever wrote—and this is from a guy who really does enjoy writing screenplays!

It is now February 2015 and the novel is completed, all 80,000 words of it. I’ve considered going the traditional route, with an agent and a traditional publisher, but frankly, I’m tired of dealing with agents and I’m definitely tired of the waiting game (which is something you get a lot of when you’re a screenwriter).  So I’ve made the decision to be the captain of my own ship, to oversee the complete design, distribution, and promotion of my book. This is why I will be self-publishing. The beautiful thing about writing a novel and self-publishing is you don’t have to spend your life waiting for other people to say “yes.” The only people who have to say “yes” are the readers. With a bit of luck, I’ll sell some copies; and even if I sell only a couple hundred copies, that’s significantly better than the dozen or so people who may have read any one of my unsold, un-optioned screenplays. And if my readers like what they’ve read, I’ll write other books and share other stories…because, really, that’s what it’s all about.

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APRIL 2015 ANNOUNCEMENT: My debut novel, Luigi's Chinese Delicatessen, is now available in paperback from Amazon.com and Kindle e-book! (You're gonna love it cuz it's all about Hollywood and screenwriting!)

Come visit me on Facebook at Jim Vines Presents!

A favorite quote...


If you’re going to try, go all the way.  
Otherwise, don’t even start.  
If you’re going to try, go all the way.  
This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives, jobs and maybe your mind.  
Go all the way.  
It could mean not eating for three or four days.  
It could mean freezing on a park bench.  
It could mean jail, it could mean derision, mockery, isolation.  Isolation is the gift, all the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it.  
And you’ll do it despite the rejection and the worst odds and it will be better than anything else you can imagine.  
If you’re going to try, go all the way.  
There is no other feeling like that.  
You will be alone with the gods and the nights will flame fire.  
Do it, do it, do it.  
Do it.  
All the way, all the way.  
You will ride life straight to perfect laughter, 
it’s the only good fight there is.

-- Charles Bukowski

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Come visit me on Facebook at Jim Vines Presents!

WHAT THE PROS SAY: "NETWORKING"



Q: How important is it for writers to learn how to network and develop relationships within the film industry?

Allison Burnett (Resurrecting the Champ, Autumn in New York, Red Meat, Perfect Romance): I don’t know if you can learn it, but being gregarious and having a winning personality really helps.

Mylo Carbia (Statute of Limitations, Totally Lipstick) :  The sad truth is that networking and developing relationships within the film industry is an absolute must. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched a producer with a stack of scripts on his desk read the one that was just hand delivered to him because someone he knows asked him to read it. I mean, L.A. waiters with connections get read more often than screenwriting scholars who mail their stuff in from somewhere else.

Rolfe Kanefsky (There’s Nothing Out There, Tomorrow By Midnight, Shattered Lies, Pretty Cool, Corpses,  Rod Steele 0014, Jacqueline Hyde, The Hazing): Probably the most important thing. This business is all about networking and who you know and building relationships. The film I’m about to start shooting this year, a remake of a slasher film from the ‘80s, came from a Production Assistant who worked on There’s Nothing Out There fifteen years ago. I stayed in touch with him and he introduced me to some independent producers who were trying to get a horror project off the ground. That didn’t happen, but I’ve stayed in contact with them for the last three years and they introduced me to another producer friend who knows the producer of this horror remake. He got me in the door and it looks like it will happen. So, you never know where you might get your next job, but it usually comes from long-term relationships with people in the business. It helps to have a network group of friends that you can trust, and hopefully they will help you and you can help them. That's one of the reasons I really like the horror genre. People who work in this arena tend to be very supportive. Fans and filmmakers alike want to see you succeed. There seems to be more honesty in this genre because horror has always been looked down upon. One small step above pornography is the way many in Hollywood treat horror. They keep making them because they gross too much money to ignore. Paramount was also ashamed of the Friday the 13th films but kept producing them because the profits were too high.  So, people who work in the horror genre really like the genre and tend to help one another. At least, that’s what I’ve found over the years.  Horror allows you to experiment and plot points don’t always have to resolve themselves. There can be questions left unanswered.

Steve Latshaw (Invisible Dad, Crash Point Zero, U.S. Seals: Dead or Alive):  Critical.  Most deals I’ve made have been in restaurants, in bars, over lunch...in social settings.

Brent Maddock (Batteries Not Included, Tremors, The Wild Wild West):  Networking is very helpful.  This is why any job (office assistant, production assistant, driver) can be a way to establish relationships with the people who get things done.  Of course, if they’re going to like your script, you have to have some talent.  But, if you’ve shown them you’re a good, smart, likeable person, they’ll be far more likely to take a look at what you’ve got.  Meeting them socially (at screenings, film festivals, lectures) can also be helpful, but those situations tend to be group gropes and it’s hard for them to tell whether you’re a serious and talented person or just one of the numerous delusional whack-jobs who are convinced they’ve written the next Chinatown, only better.

John Rogers (Rush Hour 3, Catwoman, The Core, American Outlaws): Very.  The fact that I'm not the wallflower writer, that I'm confident in the room and can be amusing at lunch, has certainly helped me.  But again, the script wins.

Neal Marshall Stevens (Thirteen Ghosts, Hellraiser: Deader): This is actually a small business—and it's one that's based upon relationships. I know everybody hears that, but it's actually true. People like to hire people that they know, that they've worked with before, that they know can deliver, whose work they like, and who they can trust.  So you need to establish those kinds of relationships.

Stephen Susco (The Grudge, The Grudge 2): It’s one of the most important things a writer can do.  It is a very small neighborhood out here, and people like to work with people they like.  Face time is critical in an industry where creative collaboration is key.  

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WHAT THE PROS SAY: DEVELOPMENT HELL!




Q: Are there any Development Hell stories you’d like to share?

Rolfe Kanefsky (There’s Nothing Out There, Shattered Lies, Rod Steele 0014, Jacqueline Hyde, The Hazing): Where to begin?  Well, I’ll tell The Hazing story since that has a happy ending and the film was finally produced after eight years of struggle. I met a producer, Joe Wolf, who optioned a script I wrote when I was in college, “The Host,” for a dollar. He then hired a line producer to break down the script, got a top storyboard artist to draw some pictures of the creature and got letters of intent from large special effects companies to work on it. Unfortunately, they never raised the ten million dollar budget and the script is still unproduced—but I have all the material they created, so one day, we’ll see. Anyway, while I was dealing with Joe Wolf, I looked at some of the other films that he was a producer on—Halloween, A Nightmare On Elm Street and Hell Night to name a few. Well, Halloween and Elm Street had plenty of sequels already but nobody had ever made a Hell Night 2. I wrote a three-page treatment and pitched Mr. Wolf “Hell Night 2: The Hazing.” Nothing happened. A little while later, I met Alain Siritzky, producer of the original Emmanuelle and all of its sequels, at the American Film Market. He liked There’s Nothing Out There and a sexy comedy script I had written called Hormones...The Movie! He hired me to write and direct a series of erotic comedies for his company. 

In 1996, I wrote five features for him and directed four of them. A few more erotic sci-fi projects followed and that’s when I pitched him an idea. He was producing a series of erotic films under The Sex Files banner. I suggested, since Scream, horror was back in popular demand. He was about to make seven erotic films. I said, “Let’s do one straight horror film as well.” I suggested the old Roger Corman approach. Build a good set and shoot two different films on it, back to back. I offered to write the two scripts that could be filmed on the same set. One would be an erotic film and the other, a teen horror flick. Alain loved the idea and commissioned me to write both scripts. So, I was paid to write the first drafts. I looked back at my treatment for “Hell Night 2” and thought that would be a good project as a stand alone horror film called The Hazing. The script turned out well, although some people at Alain’s office at the time were afraid of the scene with the giant tongue. Some felt it was too tasteless and over the top. I argued that it’s the scene that people will talk about and that’s why it needs to stay. (More on that later.) The sets were built. We started casting and holding auditions. I even shot some Halloween parade footage on 35mm on Hollywood Blvd. The erotic film went into production first and, at the last minute, Alain pulled the plug on The Hazing. He had not been able to make pre-sales on the project from his foreign buyers. Scream had not yet come out in Europe and horror wasn’t that popular yet. A few people also advised him that the horror genre would soon collapse again. They were wrong. Almost ten years later and the horror genre is thriving more now than ever. So, after a year the rights to The Hazing script reverted back to me and I tried to set up the project somewhere else. 

Through a producer’s rep company, I met a man who really liked the script and wanted to produce it. I liked his energy so I gave him a free option to try to set it up. I was also talking to an employee who had just left Troma Entertainment. He was their main sales agent. He was also interested in becoming a producer and liked the script. So, I had both would-be producers working on making The Hazing. I thought if we all combined our efforts, something could happen. Someone did a budget breakdown. Someone else was contacting various foreign companies to try to shoot the film in Russia or perhaps Denmark. I flew to Cannes and met with some of these guys during the film festival. William Morris got involved and was trying to package the project at one point. Five years went by and The Hazing never got produced. It was then that I was called by Alain Siritzky to meet at his house with a man named Tom Seidman. Alain had met Tom at the American Film Market. Tom had been an Assistant Director for years in big-budget films and television. He now wanted to become a producer. He had a horror sci-fi script that he was interested in producing and was looking for some money to make it. Alain gave me the script to read before the meeting. I read it and felt that it was pretty ambitious for the budget and needed a lot of work. At Alain’s house, I met Tom for the first time and was surprised when I heard Alain say that he was about to produce The Hazing with Roger Corman at Corman’s Ireland studios in a few months. That was news to me! He asked if Tom would like to get involved in our project. Tom took a copy of the script, read it, and loved it. He was willing to put up half the money. However, Alain was busy, about to produce another series of erotic films, and couldn’t come up with his share of the funding at the moment. So, he, amazingly enough, walked away from the project without asking for anything and gave Tom the ability to pursue other funding. Tom took an option of the script from me, hired a producer’s rep, Lantern Lane, and we began to move ahead. Tom almost found a partner to put up the rest of the money but at the last minute, they got cold feet and walked away. Tom then went to some rich friends and, with their money and his father’s money, was able to raise the entire budget. Now, before this happened, I have to tell you about what is probably the worst experience I ever had with script notes and Development Hell.  Now, Tom had read The Hazing numerous times once he optioned it and we had a lot of meeting about the script. There were notes but they were minor. I liked many of his suggestions and we seemed to see eye-to-eye on the script in general. When Lantern Lane introduced us to these other potential producers, they read the script, liked it, but wanted to get together and go over everything before they would officially commit. That’s standard and was fine with me. Actually, I was excited that they were involved. They had recently produced a really good horror movie. So, one Saturday morning at 10:00 A.M., Tom, myself, and David and Brian (the producer and development guys from this other company) all met in their offices to discuss the script. Just before this meeting I was sent some of their notes. I was faxed over twenty pages of notes for The Hazing. As soon as I read them, I panicked. They were questioning everything in the script. “Why does it have to be set on Halloween? What if we change it to New Year’s Eve? Let’s change all the characters. Why are the kids in costumes? What if the house is the villain instead of the professor? Maybe the story could be more like H.P. Lovecraft?” These suggestions meant a page one rewrite. I could write the script they were suggesting but it didn’t have to have any connection to The Hazing. Now, Tom read the notes and I was shocked when he said he felt 95% of their suggestions were really good! 

So here comes the Saturday morning meeting. It begins by Brian (development guy) giving everyone, including myself, ten questions that he had put together to find out what everyone felt about the script. I sat there tired and amazed at this pop quiz on my script that asked questions like “Who is the villain of the piece? Who is the hero? What type of film is this? What is the motivation of the villain?” After seven years of working on this project, I was tempted to write “Just read the damn script!” But I answered the questions like everyone else. When we were done, we all read the answers out loud. I knew I was in trouble by the first answers to the question; “What type of film is this?” My answer was “The Hazing is a comedy/horror film just leaning over to the horror genre.” Other answers were “A teen survival thriller,” “a suspense film” and a straight “horror movie.”  Throughout the eight hour day (with one hour break for lunch) we started discussing the script at page one and managed to get to page thirteen! Two more glorious sessions like this followed and I had to fight tooth and nail on almost every element of my script. My “favorite” note was during the tongue scene. Brian and David didn’t like the tongue scene. They felt that tongues aren’t scary and had another suggestion. Instead of the guy’s tongue growing four feet long while he’s going down on his girlfriend, how about a full-sized clown doll comes to life and tries to rape the guy from behind?!  Luckily, Tom did like the tongue scene and I rewrote the scene, trimming it slightly but managed to hold on to the original concept. After all these “fun-filled” development sessions, I sat down and did a rewrite, incorporating some of the notes but holding on to the original script as much as possible. Much of the humor was toned down. The thing is, the comedy is what Tom and everyone else really liked about the script, but once they got closer to production, people got cold feet. Still, even after Scream, producers are scared when you combine different genres together. They’re afraid the horror and humor will fight each other and the film won’t be scary. Myself, still a big fan of Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, An American Werewolf In London, Fright Night, Tremors and the television series of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I have always embraced this challenge and know that I can pull it off. In the end, some humor stayed. Some was cut. 

Anyway, when the script was finally approved and ready to go, Brian and David walked away from the project after a party in Vegas with Tom and his money people. I’ll never know what happened in Vegas on Superbowl Sunday but we lost half the money because of it. After all that work and frustration and these producers decide not to get involved. I think it had to do with control issues. But luckily when they left the party, Tom went to his friends and managed to secure the rest of the budget. So, in the long run, things worked out. I did a few more passes on the script from Tom’s notes and finally three months later, shooting commenced. The filming was not the easiest experience I had, but I am proud of the final result and it has received some of the best reviews of my career so far. And guess what—the scene that gets the most attention and acclaim is the giant tongue scene! The sales people felt the tongue scene was the best one in the film and when the MPAA gave the film an “R” rating with no cuts, our domestic distributor applauded with delight. The tongue scene survived intact but took eight years of fighting to save it. A happy ending. Rare in this business. [Also] there was a script I wrote called “Guess Again.” It was a fun, small thriller. The producer/star optioned and then bought the script. The action was too big so I had to simplify it. Then they timed out the script and felt it was long and there was too much dialogue, so they asked me to trim it. I warned them that the script is not too long and if you cut too much out, you may have a running time problem. They disagreed and I made the cuts they demanded. Two weeks after they wrapped production, they called me with a problem. The movie was running short. They needed more scenes to lengthen the running time. They also needed more action to sell it as an action movie. I had to laugh. They eventually wound up using stock footage of a car chase and a house exploding. I then had to incorporate this new footage into my script with some additional scenes. Basically, everything they cut out was put back in through this backwards approach. But, hey, what did I know? I was only the writer.

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READER QUESTIONS (#4): COLLABORATION!



Q: I don’t think I can write a script on my own. Should I collaborate with another writer?

A: First, ask yourself why you need a writing partner. Is it because you’re lazy and don’t want to do any of the work? Is it because you can’t come up with any ideas of your own? Is it because you’re good with dialogue but not good with story, or vice-versa? If you’re basically just lazy and don’t want to do any work, or if you can’t come up with any ideas...then why on earth do you want to write screenplays? If you’re good with dialogue and not story, or if you’re good with story and not dialogue, then finding a collaborator who compliments your lack of proficiency is a great idea. Problem is, finding an adequate writing partner is a very tricky thing. I’d say it’s akin to finding the perfect mate—and we all know what the divorce rate is, don’t we? Actually, I’d say it’s probably even higher for writing partners. I’ve had the misfortune—er, pleasure—of collaborating with a few writers over the years. (The term “writer” is used very loosely here.) For the most part, these collaborations boiled down to me tossing out all sorts of plot points and visual imagery while my partner sat there nodding and saying, “Yup, good, I really like that.” Then I’d come up with more plot points and visual imagery. Again, my partner would nod, “Love it, Jim, really cool!” Gee, pal, how ‘bout a little feedback, a little embellishment, a little discussion? I don’t need a “yes” man—I need a collaborator! Then, if you’re successful enough to actually get a story laid out, how do you divide the actual task of getting it down on paper? Does one do the typing while the other paces the room dictating? Do you take turns typing and pacing? Does one write the first ten pages, then the other writes the next ten? Who edits the pages? Believe me, it can get awfully complicated, if the two of you are not in perfect synch with each other. But some people do it—and they do it very successfully. I remember a conversation I had with one particular collaborator many years ago—and it went something like this:

ME: I think we need to pump up this scene...add some more tension.
HIM: So how much you think we’ll get for this script?
ME: Huh? Oh, I don’t know. Now, about this scene...
HIM: C’mon, you must have some idea.
ME: Nope. No idea. HIM: C’mon, ballpark it.
ME: Really, I have no idea.
HIM: A hundred grand? Two hundred grand?
ME: Sure, I suppose it’s possible. Now, about this scene...
HIM: More than 200 grand, ya think?
ME: Read my lips: I...don’t...know.
HIM: I’m gonna buy me a new car. A Porsche! What’re you gonna do with your half?
ME: Can we just write the script first?
HIM: I really think we can get upwards of 500 grand if we play our cards right.
ME: We ain’t gonna get nothin’ if we don’t write the script!!

Needless to say, this “collaboration” lasted for a very brief period of time.

Q: My writing partner wants to write a serial killer script, but I’m just not into that type of story. Should I keep my mouth shut and write it anyway?

A: Unless he’s going to pay you (which I highly doubt), then I’d pass on the collaboration. Do yourself a favor and write scripts you feel passionate about. No, you don’t necessarily have to think it’s the greatest idea that must be told at all costs—but it should be something that you’ll look forward to living with and working on for, most probably, several months. Another story: I was once hired to write a script. A comedic thriller. I thought the initial idea was decent, but it certainly wasn’t anything overly special. At least not to me. The story just didn’t feel like it had enough of a comic element. So I rolled it all around in my noggin for a couple days and came up with a new angle. I kept the basic idea, but tweaked in a new direction. Now it was a dark, sort of sexy thriller. I pitched it to the producer and she loved it. I had a story I could grab hold of and run with. I made it mine. If you can do that with your own work—whether a spec or an assignment—you’ll be a much happier person.

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My book Q & A: THE WORKING SCREENWRITER has been available as an e-book for a while now...but now it's available as an even lower-priced e-book edition!

What some folks have said about Q & A: The Working Screenwriter:

“…highly recommended to any budding screenwriter…"
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“…filled with great insight and honesty…”
“…valuable and practical…”
“…a must-read…”
“…inspirational…”
"…a phenomenal book…”

From David Trottier, author of The Screenwriter’s Bible:

“…I enjoyed reading Q & A: The Working Screenwriter. The content became a discussion in my mind. Years ago when I began my own writing career, it was a book of interviews that inspired me the most. I felt as though established writers were talking to me and giving me their personal advice. I learned from them and improved my craft. The same was true when I read these interviews…”

If you want to stir your creative juices, bolster your confidence, and gain a better understanding of what it takes to become a working screenwriter in today’s film industry, you’ll find Q & A: The Working Screenwriter essential reading!
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WHAT THE PROS SAY: "REWRITES"




How do you approach rewrites?

Katherine Fugate (The Prince and Me, Carolina, Army Wives):  Rewrites are necessary, but can be difficult.  Only the first draft is really yours.  It’s pure.  But once you hand it in, it becomes a group effort, and you have to let it go.  It becomes a collaboration where you must learn what you can live with and what you can't.  If you're working with good producers, the script can get better than you might have written it on your own.  Unfortunately, if you're working with so-so producers, the script can also become worse.  The moral of the story then is to be careful who you get into bed with.  Choose wisely.  My goal is to stay on the project as long as I can and hopefully see it through to the end.  Unfortunately, that isn't common in this business.  Loyalty to the first or original writer isn’t something many practice, so you have to be prepared that the first pure draft will undergo many changes, including writers after you.  So I tend to remember we all have the same goal—to get the movie made.  That helps me keep focused. 

Rolfe Kanefsky (There’s Nothing Out There, Tomorrow By Midnight, Shattered Lies, Pretty Cool, Corpses,  Rod Steele 0014, Jacqueline Hyde, The Hazing) : I like to walk away from a script for a little while before I start a rewrite. If you’re too close to the project, it’s impossible to judge it properly. I like to distance myself from it for a few weeks and then look at it fresh. Now, if you’re forced to do a rewrite based on someone else’s notes, that’s a whole different story. If you agree with the notes and they make the script better, you are very lucky. Most of the time, I’ve found the notes to be of little value and can make the script much worse if you’re not careful. Destroying a good script from bad notes is a horrible situation, and I’ve been through it. Very frustrating. If it gets too bad, I try to walk away. I had one script that I was hired to write based on a comic book that the producers owned the rights to, but hated. I pitched an idea and they hired me. They wanted to read the script as I wrote it (ten to fifteen pages at a time). I hate to work this way but was forced to comply. Anyway, they’re reading the pages and are very positive. When I finally turned in the last pages, they tell me that they want the script to be less E.T. and more The Crow! I was shocked at this meeting and excused myself to put money in the car meter to stop myself from blowing up at them. They liked the characters and situations but wanted the tone and mood to be darker. Basically, my rewrite was adding a lot of adjectives to the script to emphasize dark and gloomy. It was a joke. The script was never produced.

Steve Latshaw (Invisible Dad, Crash Point Zero, U.S. Seals: Dead or Alive):  By and large, I enjoy the rewriting process...the editing and honing.  The only time it becomes a pain is when you’re being asked to make massive structural changes.  On assignment gigs, the first draft is yours and the rest are theirs.  Budget issues trigger rewrites...casting issues.  I did a movie in 1999 called Rangers.  At the 11th hour, literally one day before shooting started, the producers wanted a new character created for what’s known as a “geezer” part.  This is basically a walk-and-talk part for an established name actor to give the movie a little more sheen and sales value.  Donald Sutherland on the park bench in JFK is a good example.  In our case, we put Corbin Bernsen (who’s no geezer) into our park.  I wrote ten pages that night and they shot him out in, I think, half a day.

Brent Maddock (Batteries Not Included, Tremors, The Wild Wild West): If I’m rewriting myself, I show myself no mercy.  If I’ve been hired to rewrite someone else, I approach the job gingerly.  The goal should never be to change anything that works.  It’s not about putting your fingerprints all over somebody else’s work.  So, you need to approach the task of rewriting by first understanding what it is about the script that works.  Then be sure you don’t destroy that in the process of making things “better.”  Too many screenplays have been rewritten to death in Hollywood.  The irony is often that when a studio is spending money on one writer after another it gets difficult for the studio executive (i.e., the worried person giving all the script notes) to admit, or even realize, that the script may have gotten better from versions one through four, but then proceeded to get worse from versions five through whatever.  Hard for the desperately upwardly-mobile executive to admit, “Oops!  I just spent a million bucks on rewrites that have made things worse!”  So, instead of going back to the version that works best, they commit the studio to pouring its 100 million bucks into making yet another stupid movie that could have been good.  Steve and I wrote The Wild, Wild West.  The difference between our script and the sad, muddled, rewritten thing they actually shot tells you all you need to know about why the studio system is so dysfunctional.

John Rogers (Rush Hour 3, Catwoman, The Core, American Outlaws): Very methodically.  I have a physics degree I don't use much, but it taught me to parse out components of problems.  What is the problem that needs to be rewritten?  How can you accomplish that in the most effective way (often while trying not to damage the rest of the script you like)?  To tell you the truth, when I do a first draft, I usually reread and rewrite the entire script as written up to that day.  So, as my manager jokes, "Your first draft is most people's eighth draft."  As a result, I rarely go through a formal rewrite process except when dealing with notes.

David J. Schow (The Crow, Leatherface: Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3):  Many of my screenwriting jobs—probably half—have been punching up or rethinking prior drafts by others.  I've been on both sides of the Writers Guild arbitration process for credits, which is an ugly and medieval thing.  You must "marry" the project emotionally in order to do any good at a rewrite, and that's the same level of commitment you bring to an original.  So the emotion is the same.

Neal Marshall Stevens (Thirteen Ghosts, Hellraiser: Deader): Well, in respect to my own work, I do very few rewrites because, as a general rule, if something isn't working, I can't move forward on a draft. I need to see the whole thing laid out, working, from beginning to end. This business of “just get to the end, then go back and fix it”—I've never been able to do that.  I don't even understand how you can.  I mean, if the problem is that something needs to be set up and it's not there, how can you simply write out something on page sixty as if the earlier set up is in place without going back and putting it in? Or, if a character needs to be adjusted, what do you do?  Just change the character half-way through and proceed on to the end without going back and making the change from the beginning? How can you do that? At any rate, I can't.  So, if something needs to be changed or adjusted, I have to go back and make those changes from the start—even, on occasion, I've thrown away whole incomplete drafts because things weren't working. I did that twice on “Slow Man.”  I threw away, I think, forty pages.  Then I threw away sixty pages.  It wasn't working. Something was missing. It wasn't right.  Finally, when I figured out what was missing, I was able to write the final version in ten days—and, I think, I did one small polish on that —and that was the draft that sold.

Stephen Susco (The Grudge): I approach them with as “Zen” an approach as possible.  When I’m rewriting my own work—on my own—I don’t really consider it rewriting.  It’s when the rewrite is “formal” (e.g., incorporating producers’ notes) that things get delicate.  The best way to deal with it is to leave your ego at the door, and be as collaborative as possible—but to never betray yourself or your vision for the project.  If you and the producers don’t see eye-to-eye on critical issues, it’s probably better if you moved on...saves both of you the time and aggravation. 

* * *


What some folks have said about Q & A: The Working Screenwriter:

“…highly recommended to any budding screenwriter…"
“…a very instructive yet entertaining read…”
“…filled with great insight and honesty…”
“…valuable and practical…”
“…a must-read…”
“…inspirational…”
"…a phenomenal book…”

From David Trottier, author of The Screenwriter’s Bible:

“…I enjoyed reading Q & A: The Working Screenwriter. The content became a discussion in my mind. Years ago when I began my own writing career, it was a book of interviews that inspired me the most. I felt as though established writers were talking to me and giving me their personal advice. I learned from them and improved my craft. The same was true when I read these interviews…”

If you want to stir your creative juices, bolster your confidence, and gain a better understanding of what it takes to become a working screenwriter in today’s film industry, you’ll find Q & A: The Working Screenwriter essential reading!



No witches, no warlocks, no vampires. Just a sexy, rollicking story about a guy trying to hit it big in Hollywood.

"A great summer read!"
"A sexy Hollywood tale!"
"It's WHAT MAKES SAMMY RUN for the 21st century!"






WHAT THE PROS SAY: "THE DOLLAR OPTION"

From my book, Q & A: The Working Screenwriter:

Should new screenwriters ever seriously consider giving producers free options (a.k.a "the dollar option")?

Allison Burnett (Autumn in New York, Underworld: Awakening): If you really like the producer, and he shares your vision, and you think he will work as hard selling your script as you did writing it, then it’s fine, when you are starting out.  Once you are established, however, it’s not a good idea, except as a last resort.  You will often find that people do not respect or value what they get for free.

Katherine Fugate (The Prince and Me, Carolina, Valentine's Day, Army Wives): It depends on the producer, his/her success record and how much you believe in them.  A general rule of thumb, though, is if no money has been spent, there is less motivation to get things done.

Rolfe Kanefsky (There’s Nothing Out There, Shattered Lies, Rod Steele 0014, Jacqueline Hyde, The Hazing): It’s hard to avoid the “dollar option” when starting a career. I’ve done it a number of times. If some producer is willing to take your script around town, the trade-off is worth it. Just make sure to get the rights back after the six months to a year is up. I would avoid giving a free option to a script for more than a year. If they need more time than that, they probably can’t do much for you. This is also a good reason why you have to have more than one script available when starting in this business. You don’t want your only script optioned and unavailable for a year with nothing else to show people. From my own experience, none of my dollar option scripts ever wound up being made into movies, but I feel many were still worth doing. They opened up some doors and I made some connections because of it.

Neal Marshall Stevens (Thirteen Ghosts, Hellraiser: Deader): I've never done it, because my position has always been that the option money is money that a producer will get back, in the event that he gets a project set up—so that, in essence, the option money represents how much a producer is prepared to bet that he'll be able to sell your project. If he's prepared to bet nothing—that should tell you something. The only circumstance where I think it's justified—and it came up a few times when I was working at Laurel—is when a project came along where, for whatever reason, there were really only one or two places where we felt we could legitimately take it.  So, for us to lay out a lot of money to option it—and then have only a couple places to take it—really didn't make sense financially. But in a case like that, the deal should really be for a short free option. The deal for two or three months—long enough to send the project to those couple of places and get an answer back.  If the answer is no, that's the end of it and the writer gets his project back, and all he's really being asked to give up is a few months, so that the project can be taken to a few places. Other than that exception, I wouldn't go along with it.

Stephen Susco (The Grudge): It depends on the circumstances.  If there’s something to be gained—if the producer is well known, or very passionate and aggressive, and has a real game plan—then it’s worth considering.  And always, always, always put everything on paper.  Always.

* * *


What some folks have said about Q & A: The Working Screenwriter:

“…highly recommended to any budding screenwriter…"
“…a very instructive yet entertaining read…”
“…filled with great insight and honesty…”
“…valuable and practical…”
“…a must-read…”
“…inspirational…”
"…a phenomenal book…”

From David Trottier, author of The Screenwriter’s Bible:

“…I enjoyed reading Q & A: The Working Screenwriter. The content became a discussion in my mind. Years ago when I began my own writing career, it was a book of interviews that inspired me the most. I felt as though established writers were talking to me and giving me their personal advice. I learned from them and improved my craft. The same was true when I read these interviews…”

If you want to stir your creative juices, bolster your confidence, and gain a better understanding of what it takes to become a working screenwriter in today’s film industry, you’ll find Q & A: The Working Screenwriter essential reading!