The Business of Screenwriting: There is always another way
Between writing assignments, I wrote a spec script. It’s a contained thriller called “Legacy,” about a child psychiatrist who ends up on a…
Between writing assignments, I wrote a spec script. It’s a contained thriller called “Legacy,” about a child psychiatrist who ends up on a remote Tennessee farm dealing with a suicidal 12 year-old girl and her close knit family… then all sorts of weird paranormal stuff starts to happen… and the father turns strangely hostile…
My agent calls me. He got the script to a hot young director whose last movie became a critical hit. “He loves your script. I’m setting up a conference call.” [The director is on location shooting his next movie].
Which is how I find myself talking with this hot young director about my script. After the obligatory smoke-blowing, he says this: “The only thing is, can we change the part about the girl and her father?”
Okay, here’s the thing: The paranormal activity in the story is predicated upon the 12 year-old girl having a radical dissociative experience, so much so that this ‘entity’ cleaves off her psyche and projects out into our real world. Which means it’s not just some generic poltergeist, rather there is a reason for its existence tied directly to the girl.
What created the dissociation? The father repeatedly sexually assaults his the girl. It’s part of his demented mindset that at a certain age, he — as the patriarch of the family — must have sex with his daughters.
There is another girl in the family. She’s just turning 10. That’s when he causes them to lose their virginity. So there’s a ticking clock added to the story.
Now I know it’s dark subject matter. I can understand why the director has misgivings. But when he asks me to change “the thing between the girl and the father,” that’s not just some tweak. That is a massive rethinking of the script.
“So you can do that, right? Figure out another reason why this crazy paranormal shit is happening?”
And I say: “No.”
That ends the conversation. And the director’s interest in the project. That script sits collecting dust as we speak.
Which is very roundabout way of framing this point:
There is always another way.
I learned this lesson with my second writing partner. Our approach to writing was we would break the story in prep, work up a thorough outline, then as we sat down to write each scene, we would talk it through, he would write his version, I would write mine, then read them aloud. Sometimes his scene was the one we chose. Sometimes my scene. Most times we’d pick and choose and work up a hybrid of the two.
But there were often times when neither of us was convinced by what either of us had written. We might argue for our scene, in fact we might passionately believe our version was the right approach. But if we couldn’t come to a consensus, we operated with this agreement: There is always another way.
So we’d write our different versions — again. And again, if we had to. Invariably we found another way to write the scene.
Now I will grant you there is a world of difference between a scene and an entire script, so it’s not nearly as easy to say there is another way when someone suggests you essentially gut your script as the director did with “Legacy.”
But where would you rather be: Say yes, we can explore options, look at other ways to make the plot work and be in an active conversation with a piece of talent who could help you get the project set up, or say no and find yourself blogging about said script many years later with the script… still collecting dust.
So what’s the takeaway? I understand how hard you have worked on your script. I know you have sweated symbolic blood to get it to where it is today. And I hope to God you sell that spec script. But it’s almost a lock that when you have your first development meeting, they’re going to say to you, “We love the script, but we think it needs a few changes.” If you say no, you’re off the project. If you say, “You know what? In my experience, there is always another way”…
You just may get your movie made.
The Business of Screenwriting is a series of Go Into The Story posts based upon my experiences as a complete Hollywood outsider who sold a spec script for a lot of money, parlayed that into a screenwriting career during which time I’ve made some good choices, some okay decisions, and some really stupid ones. Hopefully you’ll be the wiser for what you learn here.
For dozens more Business of Screenwriting articles, go here.