The Business of Screenwriting: What to do when the phone stops ringing…

“If a spec script got you into The Business in the first place, a spec script can jump-start a stalled career.”

When things go great in Hollywood, they can go really, really great. And when they do, your phone never seems to stop ringing.

Calls about meetings with studio executives.
Calls about possible writing assignments.
Calls about meetings with producers.
Calls about getting your name on the list for movie premieres.
Calls about meetings with talent.
Calls about setting up a schedule for your upcoming pitch.
Calls about meetings with directors.
Calls about parties.
Calls about what’s happening with your latest spec that just hit the market.
Calls about breakfast meetings, lunch meetings, meetings over drinks.
Calls from agents, managers, business managers, lawyers…
And your phone just never stops ringing.

But…

There are very few things about the business of writing in Hollywood you can know with any certainty. Here is one of them.

You get hot. You get cold.
You are up. You are down.
You have gigs. You don’t have gigs.

There’s nothing like being at the top of your game. Assignments lined up. Work stretching out for months on end. However just as mysteriously as the fact that you get all those writing gigs, so too the mystery of the spicket suddenly shutting off.

Which means that one day — and it will happen — your phone will stop ringing. And there is nothing more taunting than the silence of your phone. A long… thick… pervasive… soul-crushing… silence.

In case your phone stops ringing, what can a writer do? Here are some options:

• You can spiral into a deep, dark depression. While this may be a compelling stage in one of your fictional character’s story arc, I don’t advocate this tack as a personal life-choice because depression is… well… really depressing, the last state of mind you want to be in when needing to be at your creative best.
• You can kick your dog. I don’t recommend this because (A) it’s mean-spirited, (B) it’s bad karma, and © Hollywood is crawling with PETA members who if they see you are likely to kick the hell out of you — and rightly so!
• You can have a crisis of faith. This is different than depression in that it’s more like a full-blown anxiety attack. So instead of the line “My life sucks” echoing in your mind, you find yourself assaulted by the incessant mental message “I have no talent.” Again not a preferred course of action because the last thing you need is yet another set of voices in your head undermining you.
• You can mentally try to make the phone ring. Stop it, that’s just stupid.
• You can complain. This is the default mode for Hollywood writers. Even hugely successful writers kvetch about their professional and personal lives. Heck, Larry David has made a second career doing that on “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” But complaining can get very old very fast, especially to your friends and professional associates who you may discover stop calling you… which will only contribute to your original issue.
• You can drown your fears in alcohol, drugs or sex addiction. While there is certainly some value to the concept of altering your perspective to jump-start your creativity, anything that can cost you your life savings, destroy your marriage, cause you to lose your family, and result in a one-way ticket to rehab is not the smartest course of action… unless your goal is a supporting role on some train wreck of a D-list reality TV series.
• You can change representation. If your manager doesn’t call for months… if the holiday season rolls around and you don’t get so much as tin of cookies from your agent… if you’re shopping at Gelson’s only to spot your rep, but they lurch down another aisle just to avoid you… that’s not a good sign. The thing is if you’re that cold, changing representation may not help because the problem likely isn’t your agent or manager… the problem is Hollywood’s perception of you.

Which brings us to just about the only thing you can do.

Write.

You can get depressed…
Or you can write.
You can have a crisis of faith…
Or you can write.
You can complain…
Or you can write.

Your writing is the only thing you can control.

If a spec script got you into The Business in the first place, a spec script can jump-start a stalled career.

You can always come up with story ideas.
You can always crack a story.
You can always write the hell out of that story.
You can always pound out a script.

Then you have a tangible asset, a thing you can sell, and a reflection of your creative abilities.

Now I would be remiss if I didn’t mention another option: You can quit. Sell the house in Mandeville Canyon, buy a Kinko’s in your old home town, and work 9–5 like the vast majority of human beings. No shame in that. Besides like I wrote before, movies don’t owe anybody a living.

But if you have not reached that point, if you are not ready to cash out, what you can do is write. Get that script out there. It only takes one set of eyeballs to change your life.

And maybe… your phone will start ringing again.

The Business of Screenwriting is a weekly series of GITS 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.

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