I’m not going to lie. I feel like a charlatan. I have just had 400 business cards printed with “Screenwriter” boldly printed under my name and I have absolutely zero tangible credits.

Why have I done this? There is, after all, a fine line between being pro-active and projecting confidence and being delusional and a bit odd. The reason is the big event I’ve been preparing for.

For those who don’t already know, at the end of October in London is the biggest Screenwriters Festival in Europe. Packed full of practical, inspirational and interactive sessions, it is quick becoming a “must do” on the festival circuit. It caters for everyone from established screenwriters through to the cheeky scamps like myself who dare to cloak  the title around themselves like a comfort blanket.

When does a screenwriter become a screenwriter?

It’s a great unanswered (and perhaps answerable) question.

Is it when you proclaim – loudly – at a dinner party that you are writing a screenplay? Or when you first want to hunt down the people that made Final Draft and poke them with a stick? Is it when the BBC first rejects your script? Or do you have to wait until you see your name on a screen somewhere before you can finally say without irony or slight embarrassment that you are a screenwriter?

Personally, I believe there comes a point when you have written a script or three and have had professional feedback on them when you have to take the plunge, walk the walk and assume the name. And that is where the London Screenwriters Festival comes in.

Safe Space

What the LSF provides newbies like me is a safe, supportive place to take my first – perhaps uneasy – steps as a screenwriter. It's a place to meet with others in exactly the same position as myself, to learn from those who have stood in that “lack of credit” no mans land and dared to call themselves a screenwriter, to talk to producers, directors and agents and for them to treat you as a screenwriter.

For a period of three days you can immerse yours in the collective bubble and actively introduce yourself without hint of irony as a screenwriter. It is a period of three days that will see exponential growth in your confidence, in your adopted title and in your ability to take yourself to the next level, whatever that will be.

So the business cards then are not an expensive exercise in self delusion, they are a tangible example of me moving from hobby writer to serious screenwriter. That transition is one which I don't think I'd be alone in trying to make this weekend and it is for that reason that I am grateful and a bit in awe of those working their ass off to put the festival together.

We create our own opportunities in life but those behind the London Screenwriters Festival are in no small way responsible for creating the safe space for us to do so. And it is for that reason that I would urge those still teetering on the edge of coming to take the plunge.

I'll see you there.

 

Keeping focused when the world keeps spinning is difficult. Personally, I find myself easily distracted to new and shiny things to do each day. As such I've gotten in the habit recently of asking myself - and forcing myself to answer - five questions every morning to pull my focus back to my script projects.

Five Morning Questions

1.     How can I take a significant step forward with my project today?
2.     What can I do or learn today that will prepare me for development/production?
3.     How can I pay it forward and help others towards their movie making goals?
4.     How can I expand and add value to my social network?
5.     How can I show those around me how much I appreciate and am grateful for their love & support?

It may seem a small thing to do but believe me asking yourself these types of questions as you shower in the morning brings your focus back to what it should be on - you and taking control of your future success.

What questions would you ask yourself?

No-one dies at Disney World

Years ago I had the privilege of working at Walt Disney World in Florida. Aside from the tippy top customer service skills and cultural brainwashing I went endured, I came away with a couple of interesting urban myths about the Disney machine.

One that sticks in my mind is about death. The rumour mill ran this way – even if someone had a massive coronary in the middle of Main Street USA, regardless of what the witnesses said or frankly what the pulse the person grasping their chest indicated, this person would not be declared dead until they were outside of Disney property. Why? Because no-one dies at the happiest place on earth. Got it?

This came to the forefront of my mind recently as I was discussing with a friend what my next steps were for a script project of mine.

“How long have you been pitching it?”

“About 6 months”

“6 months. And you haven’t had any interest?”

“Some interest but they haven’t followed through”

“Then put the flogger down and step away from the dead horse”

When is your script dead?

It got me thinking, when do you actually declare your script dead? Or at the very least retired. When it falls down dead at a pitch meeting? When - no matter how much you try and revive it - the premise just isn't getting interest?

If you have been pitching it and getting no where, maybe there comes a point when you take the non-performing project off your "pitchable projects" list and make room for a new one.

But when? How long is long enough to see if there is interest in your project?

To my mind I think you have to train yourself to understand when the right time to let go is FOR YOU. Sometimes you might let go too soon, sometimes too late, but hopefully you will learn when to gracefully put the script down and mumble the last rites.

After all, it might be that the script is not dead, it's just awaiting an audience.

Dead Script, Learning Experience or Tomorrows HOT option?

Dead Script Example One – Let it die and never speak of it again -  Oliver Stone, or so the story goes, wrote about ten screenplays before he sold one. He never did anything with the first ten screenplays but he sure as shit learned enough from writing them to get one sold!

Dead Script Example Two – The undead scripts of the overnight success - Quentin Tarantino waited until Reservoir Dogs made him HOT property before he pulled True Romance and Natural Born Killers out his drawer. Both scripts he had tried and failed to sell before, but this time with Dogs behind him they suddenly got traction and cemented his reputation.

And as to my script, you know, I'm not entirely convinced the horse has died...perhaps it has somewhat of a gammy leg but I've not actually gone hell for leather to pitch it. If I pitch it properly and by the end of the year it's still getting as much interest as a man in grey sandals at the Lib Dem conference then I'll put it in the pre-cycle pile. Deal?

Enough about me, I want to know what are your rules around when you stop pitching a script and retire it? Do you have any stead fast ways of knowing whether you should invest time and pitching opportunities in it? Care to share?