The Rough Draft

Scratch and Sniff otherwise known as the Can we work with this guy meeting.

I’d known this meeting was coming up because every time I tried to drop off the latest polish of the script their Production Company had purchased I was put off. This can be an alarm bell situation but in this case it always had the rider that one of the principals couldn’t make it to the meet. No sweat, I was behind on finishing the polish anyway and the extra time took the pressure off of doing that and getting all of my Christmas shopping done.

The Art of the Scratch and Sniff is very subtle.
The main reason for the meet is to feel you out in how you feel about your work and how well you work with others.

I know I go on about this point a fair bit but I can’t stress how important it is. Unlike novel writing or any other type of written fiction (including plays) everybody wants to get their finger in your screenplay. Be honoured, not upset. If their fingers are in, ther’s a good chance you’re going to see the thing made. NOBODY EVER HAS A BAD IDEA! These are the people furnishing you with money. They NEVER give bad story advice. I don’t care if you hate the idea. As a working writer, it’s your job to make it work in the story. The contract says so. Does it sound like I’m advocating selling out your artistic integrity? If you want to write films that people will actually watch and spend money to go and see, absolutely. The header of this column is there for a reason. Besides, your integrity is still intact. In fact you have to dig down deep to bring the story to fruition. Guess what, it’s about craft and perserverence.

But back to the meeting. Just to keep it anonymous I’ll refer to the the principals of the meeting as N, K and M. No it’s not alphabetical but it is in order of power.

Prior, intelligence is key to a successful meet. If you’ve worked with the Associate Producer or the Creative Director, ask questions. Shoot the shit. Get the dirt on the office gossip. Keep your eyes peeled and look into their offices, the books on their shelves, the toys on their desks (everybody in film has toys). Check out what they’ve done and watch the films they’ve made (this one above all tells you the most). All this will make you prepared for any questions that come your way. Dress relaxed, dress up to much and you may rise above your station (you’re just the writer remember?). Wear big footwear, hiking boots, large runners etc. You think i’m joking? You want everything about you to say I’m one of you. I’m a collaborator, a team player, gifted and skilled but not an artist. Artists may be gifted and skiled but they are also tempermental and don’t like their work to be altered or played with. The kiss of death in film. Being labelled as difficult to work with will sink your career, no matter who you are.

So you sit back on the couch in your bluejeans, crew neck sweatshirt and hiking boots under the bright glare of the halogen ring over your head and look relaxed. Never sweat, never pass gas, don’t smile too big or laugh too hard at your lokes or theirs. Be cool, detached and focused all at the same time. Cool and knowing your films, these are film guys and unlike the bigger studios they know their films and they want to know what you like so they can see if you’re just like them. If they name a film that you don’t know, say so, bullshit will sink you. If they ask what you’re doing next. Sling them a couple of pitches (good ones) see if they’re interested and have them roughed out enough you can back up the slug line with some deeper meaning (a Dickens reference is always good here because it makes you seem well read). And always have at least one or two scripts sitting with other Directors or Producers waiting for consideration (sounds hard but why do you think you go to all those film festivals anyway?)

After about an hour of this, if you’ve done your job, they cut you the check your contract promised. It’s firm handshakes all around and out the door you go.

And though I didn’t go into it in this article, I’m pretty sure I’ve got a good shot at adapting a thirteen part series for these guys that they just optioned. How do I know? Cause i’m a team player, whose just like them.

I’m Steve Abbott and I’m waiting to sell out.

Happy New Year.

Steve O’Hearn liked the last piece so much he’s asked me to contribute a regular column. Just how regular it’s going to be I don’t know but I’ll say right off the bat that i’m a pretty opinionated guy and that what I write is my opinion and not that of
O-Hearn.com.

On with the show.

Film is a very tempting business. When you first get involved with it, it all seems a bit surreal. First off everything is a lie. You pick up a camera, you tell a lie with the lense. You write a script, you lie with words. To act well is to lie convincingly with your soul. Because all great acting is done with little more than the eyes and the face and it can be magic. All these lies blur the edges of reality and this is a big reason why so many film people get into horrible trouble with their personal lives. The edges of reality blur into fuzzy lines and next thing you know, your life is a mess and you’re in rehab.

Enter the Writer. We like to think of ourselves as the Paladin. Ego states without me, there would be no film! Truth is, if just one part of the puzzle falls apart, you have no film but you, the Writer… Still feel like the sane one.

I’ll give you an example but I’ll leave out every other name but my own to protect their fragile existence. Just before I left on my emigration to Toronto, I was invited by an actor friend, whom i’ll call D to attend the Gala closing of the Vancouver International film Festival. Seeing as the tickets were a hundred and thirty dollars, I was only too happy to go. For those of you who have never been, a Gala of any kind is a real opportunity to pose and to hook up with other probables (future contacts). It had been a good week for me at the VIFF Trade Forum. I’d laid a lot of groundwork for contacts in TO so I figured I’d coast the scene and not push too hard. In other words I made the mistake of being myself. Normally, I put on THE WRITER for these sort of things but this night, it was just, “me.”

The floor was a sea of people. the usual suspects, Lawyers, Producers, Actors and wannabees of every stripe. I circled the room to see if I knew any other people but nothing came into sight. I talked briefly with the star of some horror film but she was just being gracious. On set I’d never even get closer to her trailer than the bodyguard.

Did I mention the wine was free? I have a rule never drink in a situation where you need your wits but this usually gets waved for free booze. Next thing I know, I’m at a table of transplanted Americans (actors every one) discussing all manner of crap. While beautiful women circle around the table like sharks looking for their next meal. Considering how tight the Vancouver market is right now, it ’s an accurate analogy.

The night wears on and I’m on like my ninth glass of wine and begin to wax eloquent. D has by this time moved into the crowd trying to get towards a certain producer he knows has a part that’s perfect for him. I’m left talking to an actress, whom i’ll call A. A is like most actresses, small in frame, yet nicely proportioned and very pretty. Actors dig words, probably more than writers because they have to spout the garbage we put in their mouthes.

Have I mentioned she’s really pretty? So, we’re talking and she asks me, “How does it feel to sell something you wrote?”

Normally, I’d say something glib like, “It feels great, ” or, “top of the world Ma,” but I’d been drinking and opted for the truth.

“Have you ever body surfed?” I asked.

“Why yes I have.”

“Well, you know when you’re out there in the water and you’re waiting for the right wave?”

“Sure, and not every one you choose is the right one.”

“Precisely, and when you do see the right one, you kick like hell to get into it and the worst part is that you don’t know if you have the speed or the strength to get on the lip.”

She was mine, she was on the crest of that wave. I pushed on.

“And as you push your board over the lip to catch the waves’ power and suddenly your in it and you feel all that power pushing up into your chest and you ride that sucker out?”

I smacked my fist into my palm.

“That’s what it feels like.”

And A, started to cry. Not silent weeping, quietly done into a hankerchief tears but great guffawing sobs. My truth had hooked into her psyche and it had not been a good fit. So, I did what anyone else would do in my position. I beat feet.

Lesson learned: Never tell the truth to anyone but yourself.

I’m Steve Abbott and I’m waiting to sell out.

Your first sale. It’s exhillarating. The money, that’s not important. somebody liked your stuff enough to actually give you a cheque for it. Better yet, the cheque cleared!

We are a race of creatures who relish our firsts, be they sexual, job related or personal bests. Where most of us fall down, is the follow through, how to turn that first success into continued success. As writing is by definition a lonely profession, this can be difficult. As a screenwriter, you’ve got to actually go out there and meet with actors, producers, and directors… face to face.

Of the three, I prefer producers, because they have the cash and most of them at least in the independant scene actually care about the story. You must be gracious with these individuals because they hold the purse strings but at the same time you need to establish your intelectual superiority, after all, that’s why they hired you.

In my last story meeting the conversation went sort of like this.

Me: This opening scen, how far do you want me to take the violence?

Producer: As far as you want.

Me: Beheading?

P: Sure.

Me: Eviceration?

P: Sure.

Me: Definistration?

Long pause. P: I don’t know what that means.

Superiority established. The Writer is God. I’m pretty sure that one word got me at least two other script development deals.

On to Directors. Directors always have a vision of your script. If that vision isn’t what you put down on the page originally, it means that they didn’t understand what you wrote or they’re big fans of David Mammet. When they talk about vision, you should leave the project. If you wrote it, get your name off of it or if you can get the director fired.

Lastly, the actors. They’re crazier than the writers but they are nice to look at. They can bring great depth and insight to the roles they play or they can kill your subtext deader than roadkill.

I guess the bottom line is this. Once you sell your screenplay, it no longer belongs to you. It belongs to the production company, in every aspect in the known universe. That is an actual clause, because God forbid some alien in the next Galaxy over has the same idea as you and tries to make a film. Back to the topic. It becomes a huge collaboration of the producer, the writer, the director and even the stars. It becomes ours, not mine. And that’s a good thing because when they spend four million dollars US on an idea that came to you after a bad burrito dinner. It doesn’t hurt to be a little humble and listen to their suggestions before saying, “Interesting.”

I’m Steve Abbott and I’m waiting to sell out.

I’ll cover in more depth the face to face meeting techniques in follow on articles.