10 Years of Bitter Posts - The Worst Query Submission I Read

I haven't been reading scripts professionally for over five years - astoundingly half the life of this blog. Early in my first year of blogging I wrote about the worst query submission I ever receieved. To date, this has yet to be beaten in its awfulness.  

My original post of this is available here.

Over the years, I've read thousands of scripts and I can tell you where most of them have ended up - in the circular file. However, every now and then I get a script so hilariously, unbelievably bad that I have to save it for posterity. There's one such script that I have held onto for most of my career. To be honest, I'm not sure how it made its way into the company I was working for at the time. It has all the earmarks of a "slush pile" script, and yet, somehow it got to an assistant who didn't take this sort of thing.

My theory has always been that she requested the script so she could use it to torture me.

It's hard to know where to begin with this abomination, so I'll just describe it the way a professional reader would see it. The first thing you'd notice is that the script is significantly thicker than most other screenplays. A quick flip to the back page will confirm that it is just shy of 160 pages in length - about 40 pages and 33% longer than the accepted norm!

You would also notice that the first fifteen or so pages bound in the script are not actually part of the script. Beneath the cover page is a Table of Contents, that helpfully explains that there is an Introduction, an Overview, and a section on "marketing considerations." These marketing considerations include "observations" on the particular cultural subset depicted in the film, as well as the "Author's Commitment to Marketing."

I'll say this now - as the screenwriter, it's not your job to tell the producers and marketing department how to market their film. Yes, you need to give them something marketable, but then shut up and let them do their jobs.

Oh, and the writer also included several pages of reviews from their last book. (Self-published, of course.)

The page and a half cover letter helpfully informs the executive that the film was inspired by a true story, and then leads into a long uninteresting anecdote about a conversation the writer had which inspired the film. The second paragraph details how this screenplay was first written as a novel and then adapted by the author. The author suggests that "This is a perfect vehicle for Halle Berry, and we already know what she looks like in tight, black latex... though there are others who work as well." In case you don't know this, NEVER offer casting suggestions in a cover letter. Let the casting people do their job.

The next paragraph says that though the script is a little long, that's mostly because of the long descriptions of the settings and actions, and the writer estimates that the film will be more than two hours and fifteen minutes. This is also the point where the writer casually mentions that several scenes are a direct riff on an existing and well-known novel - to the point that several characters assume the identities of the other author's characters.

Oh, and as we get to page two of the cover letter, the author says that all her friends have responded well to the script and again she mentions the research on marketing that they themselves gathered.

But the author still hasn't shut up - there's yet another page! An addendum to the cover letter. It starts with "I forgot to mention how much research went into this script," and then spends three paragraphs singling out specific scenes and essentially saying little more than, "Someone told me this stuff in an interview."

So finally, after I've stopped laughing so hard that my throat is sore, I peel back the real cover page. I'm not greeted with "FADE IN" as I should be. No, I still have to get past a one-page list suggesting possible cast members for the eight lead roles.

Seriously, days like that don't just make me hate my job. They make me hate writers.

Now I'm going to tell you the first two words in the first two paragraphs of the script:

1) "CAMERA PANS"
2) "CAMERA MOVES"

Never, ever, EVER, NEVER direct in the screenplay! At this point I pretty much know all I should need to know. It's utter amateur hour. Not only can I be assured that the writer has no clue what they're doing, I can already tell from the pitch that this is not something that my bosses would ever go for. Unfortunately, this was not one of those times when I had the luxury of simply going back to my bosses and telling them what I told you. It had been made clear to me that I had to read the whole thing.

This script was wretched. There was excessive voice-over narration throughout, insanely overly detailed description, including a healthy serving of "unfilmables." (For those not in the know, "unfilmables" are what we call information in the description that cannot possibly be shown visually. For instance, if the description tells us that Bobby has been emotionally crippled ever since his mom died in his arms when he was 8, that's bad writing. If we need to know that, it should come out through dialogue or action. Putting it in the description means that the only people who will know this are those reading the script.)

There were also a number of graphic sex scenes that, if filmed as described, would have earned the movie an NC-17 easily.

This thing is utter garbage. It's not the most offensive spec script I've ever read, but it's definitely in my Top 5 Worst, if not THE worst. I keep it as a reminder to never make the mistakes that writer did. Plus, every now and then it's good for a laugh.

Reader questions about queries and coverage

R asks:

I’ve read the feedback on all the online sites, BL, Inktip, ISA, et all, and found none of them seem to be worth the money or effort. So, in your humble opinion, for someone not located in California, what is the best way to approach an agent, manger or producer? Send a logline only? A logline and synopsis? Hold their children hostage? Threaten to send them back if they don’t read it?

If you don't have feet on the ground in LA, then I'd first try reaching out through any connections you might have through your college's alumni network. The next thing I'd do is research managers and (assuming your script is low budget enough) smaller producers who might accept queries.

And if I struck out there, I'd probably use the Black List.

It used to be a bad idea to approach managers and producers via email but that's more accepted now. I say do email or snail mail. The key is to keep it brief. Introduce yourself succintly. Don't ramble. Don't give any more information than is absolutely necessary. If there's a reason why you might be of interest to them, say it here, but don't take more than two sentences or so to get there. (Example: "I used to be an analyst for the CIA covert ops division, and I've brought some of that experience to my spy thriller spec.")

Don't send a synopsis. Keep it to a logline. I wouldn't go into more than a three-sentence description of the story. Hook them, intrigue them and don't overwhelm them with details. The people you are reaching out to get a LOT of emails a day so if they click on an unsolicited email that's five dense paragraphs long, they WILL skip it.

Take it from someone who just went through his inbox and by-passed a number of emails from readers telling their life stories. Brevity is your friend. (And in the case of the long emails I was getting, many of them asked things outside the scope of this site, or asked questions that we've answered a number of times before here.)

Queries tend to have a low success rate, but if you're not in LA, that's one of the few options available to you.

n asks:

I've been following your blog and youtube/twitter channel for a while. Always appreciate the frank advice you give, and would like your quick opinion on something. 

 I heard an interview with Corey Mandell who said that since it's difficult to judge when your screenplay is "ready" (and most screenplays aren't anywhere near the level they should be), it's helpful to pay a few studio readers to give professional coverage "off the books" so you don't burn any bridges if it receives multiple passes. 

Do you recommend this approach? How many readers would be enough? How much would be a fair amount in a situation like this? 

I would not pay more than $150 for standard studio coverage from a reader. As longtime readers know, for cases like that, I always refer people to Amanda Pendolino. She knows her stuff and she's got the work history that ensures she'll be looking at it the way the "first filters" at all agencies and production companies would.

I've talked about coverage services before, and that includes what to look for in a reputable coverage service, and how much feedback you should get before you know you're ready.

 Eventually, after you've written several scripts and read many, many more, you'll get better at judging the quality of your own work, though it's rare to become fully objective.

My thoughts on "Why Producers Will Not Read Your Script"

Before I dive in with today's post, I want to mention I've got an article over at Film School Rejects talking about the possibility of a Black Widow movie.  There are some fans that took issue with the fact that she hasn't headlined her own film yet and cry "sexism" that her importance is "reduced" to that of being a supporting character in Captain America's film.  I discuss not only why I'd rather her be in The Winter Soldier than in her own solo film, and point out that if there were to be a Black Widow standalone, there's no better time to launch that movie than now.

Elsewhere on the internet, you've probably already seen this blog post entitled, "Why Producers Will Not Read Your Script."  It's a posting of an email exchange between a producer and a writer trying to get him to consider his script.  I've seen other sites cover this and focus on the fact that the writer responds terribly to the original Pass, but that overlooks that fact that his initial email is pretty terrible as well.

His introduction is at least twice as long as it needs to be and he one-page outlines for each of three projects he claims are "ready to go."  First thing, strike "ready to go" from your queries.  Every writer I've dealt with who's promised me multiple "ready to go" scripts (and they ALWAYS are fixated on pushing multiple scripts) has been a hack.  Pitch ONE project.  I don't care how many scripts you have. I care about your best script.  I want to know which one you think is right for me.

After that, the mystery writer totally refuses to take the polite pass for what it is and keeps antagonizing the producer.  On what planet is it a good idea to antagonize someone you're trying to get a favor from?!  Manners will get you a long way in personal interaction because if there's one thing that people in this business have a long memory for, it's pricks.

This is one of the writer's responses, with my editorializing in brackets:


I’ve got to say my first inclination was that you didn’t read it yourself, but passed it on to someone else to read on your behalf, because what you say in you’re email makes no sense? 

[First, it's "your," jackass.  Second, if this producer passed the script on to someone else to read, it's someone whose judgement he trusts.  Not only is that pretty common in this business, but calling him out like it's some sort of "gotcha!" is a real dick move.  But by all means, insult away. That's sure to get results.]

To say it doesn’t deliver as I promised, or that you found it pretty derivative and not fully convincing is completely unfounded and quite frankly, insulting?

[You oversold it and this guy was doing you a favor by being as blunt as he was.  To say it's unfounded is bullshit. You're never going to talk someone out of their opinion of a script.  Also, why does this sentence end with a question mark?]

It delivers high originality, powerfully and cinematically, it would make an absolutely fantastic and highly marketable film. 

[In your opinion.  This producer also has an opinion. And it's his right to have it because he's the guy who'd pay for this passion project of yours.]

If it is ‘pretty derivative’ as you say, please name the films, the content or subject matter that it is ripped off from? Or, even similar too? Name them and email them back to me? 

[Again, what are you trying to prove here?  One guy passed on your script. It's not his thing. You accept that and move on to the next guy.  What satisfaction do you get from this debate over whether or not your script is derivative.]

I’ll tell you the answer now. Nothing. Absolutely, nothing. It’s not an imitation of anything that’s ever been made. Why? Because it’s from my own mind, my own writing skills and none other. Unlike, a lot of the tosh regurgitated round and round by unskilled interns with a penchant for writing and real derivative writing at that. 

[And this is pretty much the point where - if I was in this producer's shoes - I'd be forwarding on this email to anyone I knew in development and warn them that answering any query from you is more trouble than it's worth.  Putting that aside, movie-making involves a lot of collaboration.  You're going to need to demonstrate you can take notes.  This paragraph alone shows me you are incapable of accepting even the slightest amount of criticism.  I would not want to work with someone who is this much of a pain to deal with.]

Sorry XXXXX, but if you accuse me of something like that, you really should back it up. Because you’re judgement is so out of whack, I don’t think you read it.

 [If this producer's judgement is "so out of whack" then you should not want to work with him at all. So count yourself lucky he revealed this to you.]

I want to unpack that last point a bit more.  It's amazing how there are some writers who beg and butter me up to get me to read their scripts, and then the instant I give them the slightest criticism, they come back with, "Your (sic) an idiot. You don't know nothing!"  Great. Then what do you care what an idiot thinks?  If I had given superficial praise, would that have made me a genius?

This lone psychopath is hardly alone.  Everyone in my line of work or in development in general has dealt with dozens of these guys.  The reason it's so hard for you to get any consideration is that we have gotten burned by so many of these guys that blind favors almost always prove to be more trouble than they're worth.

I've talked a lot in the past about queries.  If you're confused, dig into some of those old posts.  Here are some other old posts worth checking out:

Never include a PDF of your script with your initial query - this is basic stuff.

How NOT to make a good impression - an encounter I had not too dissimilar to the one addressed above.

Why he shouldn't HAVE to read your fucking screenplay - My thoughts on Josh Olson's "I will not read your fucking screenplay."  Read this so you can understand why asking someone to read your work is a pretty big imposition on them.

And finally, a pair of video posts that might help with your own queries.  This one focuses on the Worst Query Submission I ever received, while this one navigates the politics of asking for a read.

Webshow: Worst Query Submission Ever

A fairly popular question when people find out what I do for a living is "What's the worst script you ever read?"  Honestly, after a decade in L.A., the vast majority of scripts I've read have faded far from memory.  There are the ridiculously awful ones that are impossible to erase, though.  This is the story of perhaps the most memorably awful of those.

The art of asking a good question

Though I've been doing what I can about keeping up with reader mail, there's no denying that the last few months I've fallen behind.  If you've sent an email and I haven't responded - either via the blog or directly - I'm sorry about that, but real life has gotten in the way a lot lately.  I had some time this weekend to dig into the mailbag and after rereading several emails I had set aside, I found I had a few things to say.

It's totally understandable that new people would be discovering the blog every week.  Heck, that's what every blogger hopes will happen.  It's a good thing to have an expanding audience.  However, I received more than one email that started with a sentence like, "I just discovered your blog and I wonder if you can tell me how to get representation."

I hope this doesn't come off as dickish, but the "How do I get an agent?" question is one of the most frequent questions any screenwriting blog has.  So when faced with a new blog of over 900 entries, it might be a good idea to poke around, maybe see if there are any relevant tags about "getting an agent."  I even have a whole video series on "I Wrote It, Now What Do I Do With It?"  I get that there are a lot of tags to go through, but you can do a word search for the appropriate tag, or even Google your question along with "Bitter Script Reader" and see what pops up.

Here's why I bring this up - I assume that the way most people approach me through the blog is roughly the same as how they'd approach any working pro in the industry - ESPECIALLY writers.  You're not going to get off on the right foot with those people if you ask them a question while pretty much making it clear you haven't done any legwork yourself.  When I find a new blog, I'll often take a glance through the archives to see what topics they've covered.  It's certainly something I do before I email someone for an answer.

This is a roundabout way of saying that if you are lucky enough to get the email address of a working pro, do a little research before shooting them an email.  I know that I'm far more likely to respond to a brief email from someone who clearly has made an honest effort to make sure I haven't already covered their query.  That's often the difference between an email that gets answered and an email that gets ignored in favor of more pressing ones.

Another point that you'd do well to consider - keep your email brief.  Most of you are pretty good about this, but every now and then someone will beat around the bush in their emails, maybe telling me their life story before settling on what will inevitably be a question asking if I can help them get an agent.  When I get one like that, I can't help but think that meandering queries like that are why they haven't gotten an agent yet.

I bring this up less to complain about the kinds of emails I get, and more to give you all something to consider as you write emails to agents and managers who you are approaching for representation.  You've got to make a good impression in a limited amount of time, so don't expose yourself as ignorant and don't make the email an imposition to read.

I will read your Black List submission!

Many of you have asked about this and I have decided to give the public what they want.  Yes, I will read your fucking screenplay....

...IF you follow the rules I lay out in this blog post.

Many of you may remember back in October when I offered to read the first ten pages of any script whose writer provided a link to their Black List posting in the comments over a four-day period.  I had allowed for such a long period of submissions because I honestly thought I'd only get a few submissions and I didn't want to have only three or four applicants.

I, uh, underestimated the response. Like, by a LOT.  I had ten submissions within the first hour, which is even more remarkable when you realize I always post at midnight PST, when fewer people are likely to reply.  I ended up with 70-scripts that met the deadline, so I knew that if I ever did this again, there'd have to be changes.

The ultimate aim of this venture is to help out people who have taken the plunge on the Black List website.  A script needs two ratings in order to get onto the Top Uploaded and Top Unproduced Lists, which are some of the most valuable ways of attracting attention.  You can always take the chance that someone will discover your script and rate it, or you could pay for Black List reader reviews.  I have to imagine that getting one rating out of the blue is hard, and getting two is even harder.  Because of that, I want to help and possibly encourage other Black List members to dive into the submission pile.

I have no intention of hurting anyone's script by giving them a bad rating.  I want to find something I like, nay LOVE.  If I come across a fantastic script, it would be my honor to promote it on the blog and draw some more eyes over there.  But surely you understand that for my endorsement to mean anything, I have to be raving about the script.  I'm not going to give notes or "that was good for a first draft" platitudes.  I'm going to be saying "READ THIS SCRIPT!"

The best way to find scripts I love is going to be by thinning the herd so that I'm not spending time on concepts that "aren't for me."  Pay attention, because this is important - your logline must sell me on the script.  Yes, this time I'm not promising to read every submission.  The only submissions I will read will be those with loglines that interest me, just as if you were sending me a query.

The genres I'm most like to respond to are action, rom-com, horror, comedy, thriller and anything "high concept."

What am I less likely to be drawn to? Period pieces and torture porn.  So keep that in mind if you're considering joining the Black List just to take advantage of this opportunity.

To qualify, you must submit your comment from the time this post goes live to 11:59pm this evening.  24 hours, no exceptions and no extensions under any circumstance.

Your comment must include the following - Title, Genre, Logline and a link to your script's page on the Black List.  And remember that a logline is a sentence or a couple sentences.  Be concise, don't write me a paragraph. The link to your script's page on the Black List MUST be in the comments. Do not email me. Do not Tweet me. I will ONLY read scripts publicly pointed out here.

My aim is to select the 8 loglines that intrigue me the most and I will read at least the first 15 pages of each of those scripts.  In the event that you guys deliver a lot of awesome loglines, I'll consider going over that limit, but they're all going to have to be really good for me to consider giving that much time.   I probably will let you know if your logline was or wasn't selected, but I probably won't go into much detail why.  Don't take it personally - some ideas aren't for everyone.

I will offer no comments on any of the scripts I didn't finish reading. Don't ask me what you did wrong. Don't ask me for feedback. I doubt I'll have time to respond to everyone, and so to be fair, I will respond to no one.

I will be holding all scripts to the same standards as the material I read for my job. There's no such thing as "good for an amateur" on this scale. Scripts will be judged according to how they measure up to professional submissions.

If I really like your script I will spotlight it in a post on my blog, but know that it would probably have to rate an 8, 9 or a 10 for me to do that.  I'll do my best to write a review that sells people on the script.  It won't be full coverage, and I won't spoil any major secrets or plot twists.  If you want to get a sense of how these read, check out my reviews of MCCARTHY, DEAD CORPS and ALICE OF OZ.

So good luck, gang.  I hope to be very impressed by the submissions in the comments.

P.S. This goes without saying, but I'm not making any claim of who I will pass the script on to and I will not attach myself as a producer or anything.  No crazy promises - and no exploitation.

Webshow: "I wrote it, now what do I do with it? Part 5 - Asking for a read."

It's not uncommon for me to get a question along the lines of, "I wrote it, now what do I do with it?" It's a good question, and one with no easy answers. So don't think of this continuing series AS those easy answers. There are merely points to ponder. This week, let's talk about the politics of asking someone for a read.

Reader questions - Listing achievements in queries and suspension of disbelief

Driscol asks:

My script recently made it to the top 10% of Nicholls and the Quarterfinalist round for Zoetrope and the Final Draft Big Break contest. Is that something worth including in queries? Or are agents/managers just going to see that and say to themselves, "He couldn't make it to semi-finalist?"

 You're probably not far off with your latter assumption.  As much of an achievement it is to be a Quarterfinalist, it's probably not quite impressive enough to pry open the door on its own.  If you've got a kickass logline, though, that's a different story.  But then, if you have a kick-ass logline, it'll probably stand on its own without the Quarterfinalist note.

Being in the top 10% of Nicholl entries is kind of the same thing.  Last year there were 7,197 entries in the competition, which means that 10% of that places in you in the top 720 or so scripts.  And since you didn't make the top 5%, it's safe to assume that there are at least 359 scripts that were better than yours.

When you break it down like that, it doesn't sound quite so good.  As with everything, it's a judgement call.  If it was me, I'd probably lead with the hook of the script rather than the achievements unless you've got some serious accolades.

Samuel asks a good question about plausibility:

I'm writing a script that relates to a couple trying to adopt a child from another country. One of the key plot turns in my script is when the couple discovers they don't fulfill a little known requirement that the foreign government holds for prospective adoptive parents. My problem is that when people read my script, they feel like this regulation is too far-fetched and that I bring it in only as a convenient plot device to serve my own purposes. However, the truth is that this particular foreign regulation is actually REAL and I'm not making it up. I have no idea on how to make that evident to the reader short of just telling him/her that when I give them the script to read. Is there any way to make it clear in a script that I'm not making something up?

Honestly, there isn't.  And I advise against putting a note in the script because that still doesn't solve the problem you have of figuring out how to convince an audience that this is real.

My go-to example in these cases is usually Apollo 13.  Almost every thing in that movie is accurate and there are some twists that would be called out if they sprang from the mind of a Hollywood writer.  The two I'm thinking of in particular are when Mrs. Lovell loses her wedding ring in the shower and then later when the NASA scientists are tasked with figuring out how to essentially fit a square peg into a round hole using only the materials on the space craft.

That task in particular seems incredibly difficult and somehow the scientists pull it off within an extremely tight time limit.  (There's even some drama when the astronauts make a mistake and tear a plastic bag that's essential to the procedure.  Fortunately that problem is easily solved.)

On the other hand, I'm sure I've heard of cases where writers have taken the step of removing the most implausible details of "based-on-a-true story" adaptations because they know the audience will be pulled out of the narrative by them.  In those cases, I'm pretty sure they were side details that were mostly unimportant to the larger story, so removing them wouldn't take the teeth out of the script.

But if your script hinges on this twist, you might have to just bite the bullet and go for it.  There's also the possibility that something else in your script isn't working and your audience has one foot already out the door when this new twist arises.  If you can reinforce the rest of the story, perhaps this one element won't be catastrophic.

Webshow: "I wrote it, now what do I do with it?" Part 1 - The Death of the Query Letter

It’s not uncommon for me to get a question along the lines of, “I wrote it, now what do I do with it?” It’s a good question, and one with no easy answers. So don’t think of this continuing series AS those easy answers. There are merely points to ponder. This week, I'll kick things off by talking about the death of the query letter.


There's plenty more to cover in subsequent weeks, so make sure you're back here every Wednesday for the latest installment.

Will I read more Black List 3.0 scripts?

Twice this weekend I got emails from people asking if I ever was going to do another free-for-all where I read scripts that people have submitted to Black List 3.0.  I'd like to, but I unfortunately have had issues of time committment lately.

When I made my first offer, I was overwhelmed by how many people replied and how fast the queue filled up.  I think I expected maybe fifteen people to take me up on my offer to read at least ten pages of their script.  I think in the end, 75 people made it in under the deadline.  I have a hunch that if I was to offer it a second time, the participation would be even more overwhelming. 

I'll be honest.  That scares me.  I don't want to get to the point where I'm treating reading these like a chore.  That's not fair to the people who submitted, even if this is an unofficial exercise that they're not paying for.

Related to that is the fact that I know from months of reading the weekly emails from The Black List that there are some scripts where right off the bat, the concept just doesn't appeal to me.  If the goal is to find a script that I can give a good rating to and champion, I think I need some way of thinning the herd.  This way, perhaps I could read fewer scripts, but be picking from concepts that I'm more predisposed to liking. 

If I was to do this again, how would you feel about my limiting the period for open submissions to, say, 24 hours?  And how about if I then picked through the submissions and decided which queries intrigued me the most?  I think maybe I could also make it a lesson in what makes a good logline, which extends the benefit beyond the writers being read - it makes this a learning experience for everyone.

This might also mean picking some of the less effective loglines and using them as a lesson in how to make certain pitches more effective.  Would anyone have any objection to that?

If you guys have any suggestions that could make this process even better, please let me know.  I can't promise that I'll implement this anytime soon.  Between my job and the script I'm rewriting, I don't have as much free time as I did back in October.  Even then, I underestimated what I was getting into.

So I hope I can do this sometime in the near future, but I'd also caution everyone that it still might be a ways off.

I wrote it, now what do I do with it?

Mario asks:

Let's say you're an unrepped writer and that you've written what you believe to be the next hot property. To whom would you submit it first? 

With an abundance of contests, producers and web-hosting venues creating an atmosphere in which a potential hit could easily be labeled a dog, how would you ensure that your material gets objective attention?

Well, if it was me, my first recourse would be to submit to people I directly know in the business.  (And this usually comes after I've vetted the script through many, many readers whom I trust.)  I'd work every direct connection possible in search of finding someone willing to pass it on, take on the script, or otherwise work to advance the project.

Failing that, my next stop would be The Black List 3.0, for many of the reasons that we've discussed time and again.  I think the "do no harm" policy is a great way to test the waters.  If you're worried that your script will get some bad reactions on the site, you can always pull the script and the listing, so it won't impede any further queries that you do.

Step three would be targeted queries.  Notice the use of the word "targeted."  It's gotten very easy to dig up a bunch of email addresses for agents and managers.  The bitch of this is that if it's easy for you, it's easy for everyone else.  In the old days, if  you wanted to query an agent, you usually had to do your research, track down addresses and pay for postage to send your query.  With all those obstacles in place, there were fewer people submitting blindly.  They took the time to research their targets and the expense of sending snail-mail kept them somewhat in check.

That's not the case in the electronic age.  Today a simple Google search will probably locate an archive of email address.  The lazy submitter will havest those and blindly blast out the same query to several hundred people.  (The really lazy types will do it all at once as a bcc.)  On the other end of the internet, those emails will be treated like the spam they are and summarily deleted.

So when you go the query route, really take some time to research the reps who are most likely to respond to your material and craft your query accordingly

Then after that, that's when I'd turn to contests and fellowships.  But be smart about which competitions you chose to enter.

How to get read

Jeffrey sent in this question a while back, and I'm embarrassed to admit it languished in my inbox a bit longer than I would have liked:

I guess what it boils down to is... how can we get people to read our stuff? Is sending queries the best way? We do have some industry contacts and we're even working with a story editor on a popular tv show on a joint project (not for tv), and hopefully something will come from one or more of these contacts in the future.

We just really need a manager so we can get our career off the ground, and it just seems like we're floundering in figuring that out. We can keep writing good tv specs and pilots and screenplays until the cows come home (and will!), but if nobody reads them that's a problem. This step has always stymied us, especially now that we're here. I hate not knowing what to do next. Any advice you have would be greatly appreciated.

This is kind of a perennial question, but there are a couple of tactics that bear repeating.

First, if you're in L.A., you've got a leg up because the best thing you can be doing is going out and meeting people who either share your interest in writing or who work in the business.  Make enough friends and you'll probably find yourself a few degrees of separation from someone with the ability to pass your script on to a representative.  We've talked about networking a lot before, so I won't repeat most of it - except to underline that you shouldn't expect favors right after you meet someone, and try hard to not be too pushy or phony.  No one likes to feel like someone is just trying to use them.

This includes Twitter networking.  If you're really good, you can find some agents and managers on Twitter and some of them have been know to do open calls for Twit queries.  But again, the key is to not be too pushy and desperate.  I interact with a lot of great people on Twitter and even made friends with some of them, but I can tell when someone is "trying too hard."  Most of you guys are great but a few people are bad at taking the hint that I'm not inclined to read their script, look over their query or whatever.

The query letter/email query method still is known to work, but note that the success rate is usually pretty low, so do your detective work and target your queries.  An IMDBPro account can help.  Don't just blindly email people and ask them to read your script - go after reps who manage newer talent, or keep an eye on the trades and note when someone gets promoted from agent to assistant.

Here are some good things to keep in mind when composing those queries.

Then there are those who try more creative methods.

It's not easy, and to be honest, even if you have a contact who's in your corner, or if you get a read request, it's still going to come down to if that person likes it or not.  If they read the material and it doesn't fit their needs, then it's back to the beginning.  Because of this, I suggest not putting all your eggs in one basket. Always be trying to meet new people, keep improving your material, and keep working on getting that material into the hands of people who can do something with it.

Knowing when to send it out

Paul wrote in with a question:

I frequent a peer review site that ranks screenplays based on reader opinion. I've maintained a top five ranking for ten months now. I won free professional coverage from the site and it was a consider with strong potential for recommend if specific revisions were made. I made a lot of suggested revisions... a lot. Then I paid for more coverage from another service and it was a blatant pass with criticism about everything from character development to plot to writing style to structure, etc. In the end, my question is: do I take a chance and send it out? I thought it was close to being ready, but that last opinion really stuck it to me.

I'm sure this is something a lot of writers wonder about and it is a tough question.  On one hand, we're so close to our own work that it's often essential that we have someone with fresh eyes look at at and give us an idea of what the work looks like objectively.  On the other hand, the same work can provoke a wide range of opinions from people.  A script some people might think is great might not click for other readers for some reason.

But that's just the nature of the beast.  Even if you got glowing remarks from that last reviewer, I can probably guarantee that somewhere, someone who reads your script isn't going to love it.  If you've given this to several readers who seem to know what they're talking about and most of them think it's ready, odds are it's ready.

But my question would be: do the critiques of the script make sense to you?  When you see the problems that reader had with the screenplay, is your gut instinct, "Oh yeah, I can see that" or is it "This guy doesn't see the ideal version of this script the same way I see the ideal version"  If it's the latter, it could mean that he's just not a fan of your take on the story - or it could mean that you had trouble translating your intentions to paper.

My own feeling is: if the notes you're given spark ideas that you think can make the script better, there's no reason not to implement them.  However, if implementing pushes you in a direction that you're not fully committed to, maybe it's better to just take a stand on your vision and succeed or fail on those merits.

Ideally, you'd be able to send out your script with the conviction that it represents you well.  At the very least, you should never feel like you have to apologize for or explain the script.  You'll know you're ready when someone tells you "PASS" and you're able to simply say, "Thanks for your time." If your gut is, "Well, I know I just need to make this character more active," or "The second act is a little confusing but I can fix that" or any other apologizes, your writing probably wasn't ready in the first place.

A lot of industry pros will only give you one shot.  Can you objectively look at that script and be at peace with this being your single chance?

Reader questions: Diversity programs and waiting periods

Matt writes:

I love your site and I was hoping to get your opinion on something.

I've been debating entering the CBS Writer's Mentoring Program. 

I think my specs and my pilots are pretty solid but the problem is I'm white. More specifically, a straight white middle-class twenty-something male. And it seems that every program for TV writers is looking for diversity. Basically the opposite of me. 

So should I even bother applying to CBS, WB, Nickelodeon or the NBC program? Or should I save my time and money? 

I'd welcome anyone with more direct experience with these programs to weigh in, but my assumption is that any program that states in its objectives that it's looking for"diverse" applicants, you can probably count on white males being given the lowest priority.  If entry is free, I'd say you've got nothing to lose - but if there's a submission charge, your money is probably better spent elsewhere.

Amanda asks:


I've been lucky enough to have some agents and agencies respond to my queries with a request to read my work. Now I'm wondering how long this usually takes? I know it can take a while depending on the agent/agency, how much stuff they get, etc. (Someone told me that at a big agency, it's a good sign if they don't say no right away . . .) 

Anyway, I want to be polite and give them the space they need. What's fair? At what point, if ever, should I send a follow-up?

I'd say give them at least a month. Opinions vary on what's the best way to approach them after that, or if you even should.  Most of the time if you don't get a reply, you can safely assume they passed on you. 

When I've gotten reads, the responses have usually come within three or four weeks.  Usually it's either, "This doesn't suit our needs at this time" or "This isn't for me, but please send me your next screenplay."

If I don't hear back, I usually don't push it.  I just make note of it in my files so I know not to submit to that agent again.

Does anyone else have an opinion on these two questions?

How NOT to make a good impression

From time to time, I get emails from people asking me to read their scripts.  This really, really annoys me because anyone who's paying attention can see that IMMEDIATELY below the link to my email, I've put a notice that reads: "Please NO requests to read your material. All such queries will be ignored and deleted unread."

So what's so hard about following that instruction?  I'm sure I've talked before about how when you ask someone to read your script, you're asking a huge favor.  No one owes you a read, and it's a big deal to ask even a professional with whom you are acquainted with to take a look at your work.

Pro tip: when you don't know someone you're about to ask for a favor, it's a good idea not to get off on the wrong foot with them by ignoring their specific request.

About a month or two ago, I got an email that was pretty clearly a query - what was notable about this was that there was an attachment.  We've talked about this before, people, don't do this!   For more specifics, check out this old post.

I was feeling charitable, so decided to open the email so I could send a stern response to the sender rather than just delete it.

The email opens not with an introduction, nor a polite request to read material.  No, instead the reader is immediately assulted with a logline and a long synopsis.  And that's it.  No "please read my attached script.  It would mean a lot." Just logline, synopsis, attachment.  Now I'm really annoyed, so I send back this curt response: 

Do not EVER send anyone a PDF of a script unsolicited.  It's not only rude but it puts the receiver in an awkward legal position.  I cannot read your work and as the instructions just above the link to my email explicitly state, I do not accept submissions.

Please do not make this mistake with any other bloggers or screenwriters you attempt to contact.

So if you got that reply, what would your reaction be?  Perhaps you'd be too embarassed to reply.  Or maybe you'd be so mortified at your unintentional offense that you'd write back with an apology.

Or you'd do what this guy did, writing back with this response:
 

Keep your hair on - it's only a screenplay - thought you might enjoy it!  

Awkward legal position my arse! 

If you want to read it - read it! (It's actually very good!) If you don't - don't!  

No one's going to sue you!

And that's where the writer lost any benefit of the doubt from me.  I responded thusly: 

The correct answer should have been: "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that was a breach of etiquette.  Thanks for letting me know."

No one in this town reads anything without a release.  Look at all the idiots suing people like James Cameron saying he "stole" their idea merely because they sent him a script that had elements similar to a film he made.

That and it's just plain rude to send a script without querying first.

The writer responded with a couple emails, offering explanation and rationalization more than apology.  I've since learned that this writer has submitted to other bloggers in a fairly clumsy attempt at drawing attention to their spec.

Oh, I forgot to mention that this screenplay was an unauthorized sequel to an existing film.  You all know my thoughts on playing with someone else's toys.  So if I didn't already have my doubts about this writer's ability, an Amateur Hour blunder that big would have confirmed it for me.

But more than that, this writer's blunder was in not caring at all about the person he was submitting to.  I was nothing more than a means to an end.  The writer hadn't done even the most cursory read of my blog to see what might be the best way to approach me, or even if I wanted to be approached.

Would you have been any more forgiving of someone who treated you with the same disregard?

Should you include a PDF of your script in your query email?

Driscoll asks:

What's your opinion on attaching your screenplay as a pdf to the query email instead of waiting for them to request it? Is that really bad form? I understand why agents wouldn't want a bunch of physical scripts lying around the office. But with email, it seems like no inconvenience for them. Just don't open the pdf. Also, maybe they're curious enough to want to read the script but not curious enough to respond and risk someone harassing them with emails and calls over whether they read the script.

It's horrible form.  TERRIBLE form!  Do NOT under ANY circumstances send a PDF of a script before getting permission to do so. Looking through the archives, I see I sort of gave this advice almost two years ago, but it's hidden in a post title that doesn't seem to have much to do with queries. 

I cannot stress enough how important it is that you do NOT do this. First, many people will not open any attachments from an unfamiliar source due to the risk of viruses.  Another major thing to be aware of is no one in the business will read your script until you sign a release stating that you will not claim they stole your ideas or sue them should they one day develop a story that is similar to yours. This is why if you shoot CAA, ICM or any other agency an email with an attachment, you'll likely be sent a response that says something to the effect of "Your email was deleted without being read."

Let's say the company you query has a werewolf movie in development and you send them - unsolicited - your brilliant werewolf script. Then, six months later, you open the trades to see that the company you queried to just got Paramount to buy their "Twilight with werewolves" idea for big bucks - and you're certain your concept has been swiped. With luck you find a lawyer ready to sue the pants off that company for "your" money.

Maybe the producers will be lucky and the case gets thrown out, or it goes to court and they win anyway - but they'll still be on the hook for legal fees and will have lost valuable time, to say nothing of the stigma that comes from the accusations of stealing ideas. That's aggravation they simply don't need, and that's exactly the situation a writer creates when they blindly send their script to someone.

You might as well cough on the recipient and say, "Hey, do you want to sample this great strand of Ebloa virus I've got?"

(Not that I'm comparing the quality of your script to the experience of having Ebola, but if you're naive enough to send your script without asking first, the odds of your script being terrible certainly rise.)

The legal reasons are a big part of why this is a bad idea, but also, it's pretty damn presumptuous to send someone a script in your first communication with them.  That's like walking up to a girl at a party and immediately trying to steal second base.  Win your target over, get them excited about reading the script and seduce them into reading the material.

Make this a commandment: "Thou Shalt Not Submit a PDF Until Thou Hast Been Invited."

"Bullitt" screenwriter Alan Trustman sells his unproduced specs on Amazon.com

UPDATE: 7:30am PST - That didn't take long!  Alan Trustman replied in comments.  His comment and my reply have been added to this post.

Over the years I've seen a number of strange and desperate ways that people have advertised their screenplays.  Some opt for spamming, some set up websites for their scripts, and other shoot short films promoting their work.  Tuesday's Variety featured a method that surprised even me.  Screenwriter Alan Trustman took out a quarter-page ad which - even considering the hard times that the print industry has fallen on - couldn't have been cheap.

The headline blared "SIX GREAT UNPRODUCED SCREENPLAYS" and a full scan of the ad follows:




14 paragraphs and 673 words in all.  I'm not retyping all of that.  Frankly, with all that text, the writer is lucky I read all of that.  That's actually a big issue I have with this ad - it's a mountain of text.  There's nothing to really catch the eye or entice someone to read it all.  He even buries the lead, for it takes him until the third paragraph to get to the real point of his message.

"Many years ago, I started at the top, writing two classic movies, thanks to a brilliant agent, a dynamite producer, and a major star who understood that I understtod him.  I had it, really them, all, - and then I didn't.  Thereafter I had a couple of other screenplays produced and left the business.


"In subsequent years, from time to time I wrote an additional nine screenplays, but I never became a participating member of the Hollywood community, and was unable to sell screenplays from a home 3,000 miles away, without an agent, manager producer or star."

Though the ad doesn't name those "classic movies," it's signed "Alan Trustman," who is the 80 year-old screenwriter behind Bullitt and The Thomas Crowne Affair.  According to this NY Post article, Trustman was once the highest-paid screenwriter in Hollywood, having sold Bullitt for $1 million in 1968.  He claims to have written that entire script in one day.

There's also an interesting quote from Trustman, "The number of people in the industry who can read a script and picture the movie is very, very small," he says.  I've not met more than ten of them in all my years."

And that's why I struggle to understand what Trustman hopes to achieve with his ad.  As he informs us "I have decided to publish my best six unproduced screenplays on Amazon and advertise them in VARIETY, the NEW YORK TIMES SUNDAY BOOK REVIEW, and on the internet."

If I didn't know that Trustman had such a notable career, I would have written this ad off as the work of a rank, naive amateur.  I don't understand why anyone would believe there was any kind of market for an unpublished screenplay.  Trustman himself says that few people can read a script and picture the movie - so why does he believe someone would pay $9.99 for one of his scripts?  I'd wager he probably spent more on the ad than he'll make on those book/screenplay sales.

If he's trying to get attention in the hopes some producer will buy those scripts, the ad is a poor marketing tool.  It's wordy and the six pitches he includes are hardly enticing.  They're not loglines so much as weak teasers like:

"THE JUDAS PROPHECY is a novelized screenplay.  Does anyone want to make a good commercial Dan Brown style movie?"

and

"TWENTY-TWO LOVERS is the love story of a detective and a talented woman whose lives intersect early but do not meet in person until the very end of the movie.  Again, who has the courage to play the lady?"

With respect to Mr. Trustman, if those loglines were part of a query letter, I can't see many people requesting to read the script for free.  I'm not going to spend 2/3 of the price of a movie ticket on any of those scripts.  And frankly, it seems like Trustman would be smart enough to figure this out too.

If there's one thing that aspiring screenwriters can take from this it's that this business is rough.  A writer with two classic movies and the largest writing paycheck of the time still saw his career fall on hard times.  A man with his experience should probably know better than to expect an ad like this to do anything for his career or his income.  If he was just out to educate, or merely wanted his words to find an audience, he'd probably put his scripts on a website and offer them for free - so that leads me to believe that this is an action taken out of desperation - a last resort.

I wouldn't suggest any screenwriters emulate Trustman's ad if they want to get their scripts read... but then again, he got me to write an entire blog post about it, so maybe he knows what he's doing.

UPDATE: Alan Trustman commented below.  Since some of you don't read comments, I thought it wise to add his to the original post.

Great blog! I loved it!

Why the ad?

Because this fat lady decided to sing.

The scripts are good, probably better than good, and there are people out there looking for money-maker movie movies. If somebody bites, great! If not, I have had the fun of saying what I had to say.

And you’re absolutely right about the pitches. I never could write pitches and I never could pitch.

If you send me your address, I’ll send you the books, and you can then write another blog savaging the scripts! 

My reply:  Thanks for the quick response, sir, and I'm glad you enjoyed the blog.  I know that my free time being what it is, I can't find room to read and review six scripts on the side.  In fact, there's ONE "favor" script that I've managed to not get the time to read across a couple months!

But I am intrigued to check out perhaps one of them.  I'm leaning towards THE JUDAS PROPHECY, as it sounds like the most exciting and marketable of the six based on that logline.  Let's open it up to a little debate.  Readers, which one would you read and why?

Lesson: When pushing your work, think outside the box

It's probably not any secret that when it comes to breaking in, writing a great script is often only part of the equation.  Your brilliant writing still needs to get noticed by people who can do something with it.  The problem - everyone in town is trying to get noticed to.  Anyone who's reading scripts already has more scripts than they can deal with - so getting someone to agree your writing is a major favor.

Nobody owes you a read.  And a young writer just starting out, if they're lucky enough to get representation, is likely to find themselves a low priority for that agent.  I came across this article about how Boardwalk Empire creator Terry Winter executed some unusual tactics to get his script into the right hands.  After getting his hands on a list of agents who accepted unsolicited submissions, he recognized the name of a guy he went to school with.  Problem: when he called up this guy, he found out the guy had become a real-estate attorney and didn't really know anything about being an agent.

Most writers probably would have said, "Crap" and bemoaned the lousy luck of their networking.  Winter instead had a great idea.

So we made a deal where I would create basically a phony agency with his name. I did this out of the Mail Boxes Etc. on Santa Monica Boulevard, and I got a voice-mail system and letterhead printed up. I said I’m gonna submit my work under your name, and if I get anything, I’ll give you ten percent like a real agent. 

I took a day off from work and hit like every sitcom office in L.A., which at the time, there were like 26 sitcoms on the air. And I just walked in wearing a baseball cap and said, Yeah, hi, I’m the messenger from this agency and here are the scripts you wanted. And I thought, all right, at least my scripts are in the building where people theoretically could hire me. 

A couple of weeks went by and I got a call on a Friday from Winifred Hervey Stallworth, who at the time was the showrunner for “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air,” and she was calling for Doug, who was my agent. And she said, Yeah, Doug, it’s Win Hervey from “Fresh Prince.” I read Terry Winter’s scripts and really think they’re great. We’d love to maybe talk to you about having him come in to pitch. 

So I called Doug in New York. At this point it was like 4 in the afternoon in L.A. and 7 in New York, and he was already gone for the weekend. So I thought, Oh, God, I’ve gotta wait until Monday now. And then it occurred to me that Doug didn’t really know anything about being an agent, so I thought, you know what, I can just call and say I’m Doug and it’ll be easier to cut out the middleman. 

I called her and she said, Oh, great, Doug. Oh, you know, “Fresh Prince” is sort of a teenage-oriented show. Does he have like one more teenage kind of script? And I said, Yeah, he just finished a “Wonder Years” spec that’s really terrific -- which was a lie. I didn’t have anything else at that point; she had everything I wrote. 

I said, Terry’s out of town for the weekend, but I could probably get this to you by Tuesday. And she said, Yeah great, Tuesday’s fine. I hung up the phone, and from Friday night until Tuesday afternoon, I cranked out a “Wonder Years” script, and then I threw the baseball hat back on, went as a messenger again and showed up at the office, flung it in the door, made sure nobody saw me, because at this point I was like the messenger, the agent, the client …

So there you have it.  You've got to be your own biggest advocate.  You can read the rest of Winter's story here.

Here's what I like about this story - Winter used his resouces in a way that took advantage of the system, but wasn't arrogant or obnoxious about it.  Too many aspirings think that being their own biggest cheerleader means they have to be obnoxiously arrogant and overconfident.  I get emails now and then that read something like, "I am the greatest writer who ever lived!  I know this is the best script you'll ever read and if you turn it down, years from now you'll be sorry that you weren't the one who found me!"

Confidence is good.  Overconfidence is off-putting.  Sending me multiple emails also isn't a good idea to get my attention.  And a good way to REALLY piss me off is send me an arrogant email, then write by in a few days getting angry that I haven't replied one way or another.

Let me put it this way: have you seen those auditioners on The X-Factor who come in saying they're the next Mariah, Whitney, or whoever?  How often do those guys really blow you away when they sing?  More often than not they sound worse than a drunk Linda McCartney on karaoke night.  Then, when told they aren't making the cut - notice how many of them become combative.  Notice how many of them invite Simon to have sex with himself and then rant to the cameras how the competition sucks anyway and the show is full of people who don't know what they're doing - or they had to get rid of this person because they were just too damn good.

The screenwriting world is full of those types too, people who mistake their own arrogance as a virtue.  Don't be the guy who tells Simon to fuck himself.  Be the guy who walks his script into the office, takes the call that follows up and then leverages that into another submission.

Mailbag: Don't send me this email! also Length and locations

I've really been lax in dipping into the mailbag, so I'm going to try to clear out a few questions that have been sitting around for months.  Sorry guys!

First, I'm going to withold the writer's name so as to not embarrass them.  This landed in my Inbox with the Subject line "Ill give you 50% rights if u like my script."

If u read n like my slap stick comedy script n gets sold give u 50% of what iget 4 it trust its nt a bad script 

Look, you can't even compose a one (well, technically two, but you forgot a period) sentence email without demonstrating you have no capacity for writing a coherent phrase.  Why would I subject myself to 120 pages of that?

Also, never promise a reader half of your take.  It's just tacky.

From Clint:

You read a lot about screenplays being too long, but when is a screenplay too short?

If you flip to the last page and see "131" you have one impression. What do you think when you flip to the last page and see "91"?

Um, "Yippie?"

At one of my old gigs, the readers would come into the office and take the scripts off of a stack that had be left out for us.  The first thing I'd do before even considering signing a script out would be to look at the page length.  Anything near 90 pages got grabbed first... unless it flunked my second test - opening the cover page and seeing a period date at the start.

I didn't always leave the longer scripts.  A clever title always got me to pick up something closer to 120.  The only time I'd take anything over 120 was when I recognized the writers name, or it had been passed over so many times by others that I was the unlucky fool who had to get it done before the deadline.

Having a 91 page script MIGHT indicate that you're a little light on content, but that's an issue unique to the script.  As far as it repelling a reader - it's not likely to happen.  If you're at 85 pages, that's probably when I start to think the script is likely to be light on story and/or plot twists.

Chris asks:

I had a question that I had not really found touched upon in your blog. It has to do with the naming conventions of slug lines. I have noticed that some screenplays use the same name throughout, while others use a generic term (i.e. SUBURBAN HOME), then once they introduce whose house it is, from that point forward it is referenced as that character's house. 

If you look at the February 19th version of "Crazy, Stupid, Love" by Dan Fogelman, he starts off the house as being "SUBURBAN HOUSE", then once it is stated whose house it is, the house is referenced as "TRACY AND CAL'S HOUSE", then finally, "THE WEAVER HOUSE". While I understand that there really are not any hard and fast rules governing the formatting and other naming conventions, I just wanted to see what someone, in your position, considered the norm. 

Lastly, I understand that an error as minor as this might not play any part into the rejection of a screenplay, I'm trying my best to remove any sort of amateur mistakes as possible. 

I think for clarity, it's usually best to keep the same name throughout.  Sometimes that might not be possible, as when you need to identify a location, but stating it as "Steve's House" might give something away for some reason.  Also, this is one of those things that might affect a script report.  If you're trying to figure out how many scenes take place in a particular location, having inconsistent names for the locations can throw off that count.

So it's probably a good habit to get into, but as you note, it's not something that's likely to affect the Consider/Pass rating on your script.

Reader question - Snail-Mailed queries vs. Emailed queries

I'm still kinda zonked from Comic-Con, so I'm just going to take an easy question today. Greg asks:

I'm about to send out query letters to a bunch of production companies, so I've collected all their contact details. But I'm wondering if I should send these letters out via e-mail or regular mail. E-mail would certainly save on paper, ink and stamps, but physically mailing letters seems much more professional. What do you think?

A few years ago, you might have been right about physically mailing the letters being more professional, but I think these days they're accepted as a legitimate way of querying people. I used to do the physical mailings but I actually got more read requests off my last spate of email queries. Perhaps I just had a better pitch with this later one, but I'd like to think that since it takes little time to open and read an email, maybe that makes it easier for a recipient to give it a quick glace. A letter from a dubious sender might sit on a desk for weeks, unopened.

One thing I would stress with an email query is to be very concise. It takes so little effort for someone to press "DELETE." Be brief. Pitch your idea succinctly and don't ramble. Don't tell your life story - just get them interested in reading your script.

I've heard anecdotally from enough people who had luck with e-queries that I'm inclined to believe it's no less likely to succeed than actual mailed queries.