October 21, 2009
I Will Not Read Your F-ing Script
Josh Olson wrote the screenplay for A History of Violence. And now everyone wants him to read their script.
You are not owed a read from a professional, even if you think you have an in, and even if you think it’s not a huge imposition. It’s not your choice to make. This needs to be clear–when you ask a professional for their take on your material, you’re not just asking them to take an hour or two out of their life, you’re asking them to give you–gratis–the acquired knowledge, insight, and skill of years of work. It is no different than asking your friend the house painter to paint your living room during his off hours.
He details why he won’t in two glorious pages.
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I’ll be mulling this, along with my own behavior, the past couple years.
This makes nothing but complete sense to me.
Yes, this makes good sense to me too. I admire people who will try to help other writers, but I also know that many of the “askers” are so focused on themselves that they never pause to think about what that reader might like to do with his or her time instead of reading another work. And few people who ask for such readings ever trouble themselves to thank the reader–particularly if the response (asked for, after all) was not the one he or she wanted to hear.
I can’t blame the guy for trying, but I can blame him for wasting an opportunity by giving a professional screenwriter some half-assed synopsis and expecting him to basically hold his hand and give him free advice while he gets his shit together. I think that’s what really pissed Olson off the most, and if this guy had bothered to write a complete script that was in the right format and had been sweated over and rewritten and fleshed out, Olson might not have written a two page article filled with obscenities and condemnation towards jerks who give him garbage to critique.
Bob, I think Olson’s point is that the people who ask for help NEVER write these amazing scripts. It’s always a half-ass synopsis or miserably written. And let me tell you, everyone in L.A. is at a coffeeshop somewhere in the city writing these horrible scripts and foisting them on everyone. Go into any coffeeshop, and look at the people’s screens on their laptops, it’s all Final Draft. Almost every screenwriter I have ever met and read, and I say almost but I can’t think of an exception (except Deron! I just thought of one! Deron is great.), is terrible and they never want actual criticism. The problem is they spend so much time with their own writing that they start to think it’s pure genius. but the real question I ask myself with every script is “Why are we spending ten grand on this. Is this short worth ten grand?” The answer is almost never. Olson makes the point that it is very very difficult to write a good script, and that it has taken him years of concerted effort to hone his craft. Most screenwriters don’t put that much into it, and unfortunately it’s almost impossible to tell the 1 from the 500 who don’t. Maybe living in LA makes me biased, but I know so clearly the people he’s talking about, and I think his point is excellent and someone finally said it.
And this mentality of “well, I know some famous screenwriter guy, maybe I can shmooze him” is the very reason I decided I didnt want to be embroiled in the industry. I hated the idea that you had to try and use other people to get ahead, that it was required of you.
Amae, I know next to nothing about screenwriting, but in other genres it is not the case that people who write amazing things never ask for help. Sometimes the best people out there are the ones who have been trudging along on their own, finally reaching a point where they want to show their work to someone whose own work they admire. Granted, such gems are few and far between, but they certainly exist. If the assholes would stop expecting established writers to read their half-assed shit, everyone would likely be more open to nurturing new talent.
Yes, Cindy. I agree. I guess I just feel like Olson is targeting such a specific attitude that exists out here, this “oh I’m a writer, I deserve this” mentality, casual LA awful.
I agree with you though.
Yes, I understand how a mentality can take over a place. When I first lived in New York, I was amused by all of the people who told me they were actors. I thought of it as a simple affectation–the thing they told themselves to justify living with 4 roommates and working at a dive. It stopped being amusing when I realized a majority of these people were so deluded as to actually think themselves amazing talents, despite having never played a role beyond high school. I’m sure you see this ilk in LA, in addition to the pseudo screenwriters.
I’m pretty sure being around such people all the time would drive me nuts. In Texas, we only have to contend with people who will shoot you if they think you disrespected their truck.
The arseholes are not going to stop. I have just been talking with them, and they say they are going to keep going. It is called ‘evolution’.
The old gag*, Cindy, when people tell you that they’re actors, is to ask, “oh yeah, what restaurant?” They love that.
*Older than me, I’d wager.
Actually, Andrew, my favorite “actor” during my time in NYC was the cab driver who told me he was really a psychologist–he just drove a cab to keep in touch with the man on the street.
And this mentality of “well, I know some famous screenwriter guy, maybe I can shmooze him” is the very reason I decided I didnt want to be embroiled in the industry. I hated the idea that you had to try and use other people to get ahead, that it was required of you.
This sounds very similar to the reasons I didn’t follow my government degree into…well…government.