You don’t have to be a genius to be an opportunistic thinker, you just have to be observant—and as a writer, you’re already hardwired to observe the world. Thinking “outside the box” has very little to do with inventing the next great “it” thing, and is much more about simply stepping up to the plate when you see a reasonable chance where you can assist.
Success in Hollywood, as with any industry, is about making situations work in your favor.
Homework Assignment: The Message Board Screenwriter
I know a guy who produces down-and-dirty schlock pictures. Action films, martial arts pictures, and some really cheesy sci-fi stuff. He has no shame (almost a modern day Roger Corman). He even produces “mock-busters,” extremely cheap knock-off versions of the legit multi-million dollar studio films (my personal favorites are Metal Man (2008), released just after Transformers (2007) and a film called Star Quest: The Odyssey (2009), released at the same time as Star Trek (2009)—terrible movies, but commercially profitable). Go ahead and knock the movies, they make money. He produces what he knows will sell… . His productions are extremely cheap, but his poster art is fantastic.
During the development phase he comes up with an idea, types it up a bit (as a general treatment or outline), then hops on Craigslist or some other public message board and puts an ad out for “Screenwriter Wanted—Low Budget.” His rules are simple: The writer must be non-union (a given) and they must be willing to write a feature-length film for $500. That’s right, $500 bucks! $100 for the outline/treatment (which is his way of vetting if the writer can actually write); then $200 for the first draft and $200 for the final draft.
But, if you are a fast writer, and you’re writing something that you’re not emotionally attached to, the above formula isn’t all that bad. If a script averages 100 pages, you’re getting paid $2 per page. It’s shit money, yes… . But it’s money you’re getting paid to build a portfolio and get script after script out of your system (while learning to write for what others need and being mindful of budget), all while getting legit writing credits.
Perhaps you’re rolling your eyes at the above premise, thinking $500 is chump change! However, writing at $2 per page is far better than zero dollars per script—which is what most wannabes write for. And once you get your $500 in pocket, this producer will go off and turn that project into a movie (and you’ll get your screenwriting credit). Ashamed of what you’re writing? Don’t worry about it, just use a pseudonym. Many of the best writers have done so. But remember, professionals don’t judge you for having started out working on less-than-savory projects. No one arrives in Hollywood and gets picked up for an A-list project overnight.
If you hop on Craigslist right now (or a multitude of other message boards for that matter), you will find dozens of people actively looking to hire a screenwriter. Take a risk: Contact them, interact with them… . See what they’re looking for.
The people on message boards seeking screenwriters are no different than producers actively working in the business. They have ideas and concepts, but they don’t have time to actually write themselves… they’re willing to hire a third party to do the grunt work. It’s not Academy Award-winning stuff, but they’re real movies—with real money behind it. (And the last time I checked, Coppola, Scorsese, Bogdanovich, and even Cameron ALL started out working for Roger Corman before gaining their own notoriety.)
How Screenwriters Get Paid
$500?… I must be kidding, right? Those above examples are the bottom- of-the-barrel, of course. I brought those types of writing opportunities up for two reasons: (1) proof that you can actually go out and get a paying screenwriting job today, and (2) proof that screenwriting opportunities are literally everywhere—it’s just that most people overlook the real ones. I’m not suggesting that you’d ever use those scripts toward your target portfolio (to garner professional writing work with larger independent companies), but reaching out to a message board screenwriting opportunity when you’re first starting out is a great way to build stamina, build confidence in negotiating on your own behalf, and learn the workflow that is used at the grassroots level all the way up to the studios.
Rather than writing spec script after spec script for free, you can actually go get paid (a small amount of cash) while learning all the valuable lessons regarding writing for budgets and time constraints. But if we started this chapter with examples in the $4 million zone and have now dropped to $500, then what can you actually expect as a real-world paycheck for your efforts?
So let’s say you follow the steps listed out in Chapter Five and are able to successfully pitch yourself (and your talents) to a development executive… . What kind of money are we really talking about for a real production? And we’re not assuming anything crazy, like a $30 million theatrical film, we’re being fully realistic about Hollywood’s ‘indie zone’ and are focused on a straight-to-home entertainment product that might get a bit of TV play—hypothetically, a movie with a $500,000 budget. As a writer, you’ve schmoozed up the development executive(s) and they are willing to offer you a deal. What can you expect?
The answer: You will be paid about 5 percent of the film’s total (actual) out-of-pocket budget. Your paycheck will always be dependent upon the budget of the movie. Bigger budgets have bigger paychecks; smaller budgets have much smaller paychecks. The problem is no one will ever tell you what the exact budget of the film is… . And, as explained in Chapter One, there are numerous reasons why production companies might want to hide the true budget of a film from different audiences (for different reasons).
Using our above (hypothetical) $500,000 budget, 5 percent would be $25,000. (That would mean that $500 writing opportunity would equate to a budget of $10,000—and that is actually the ballpark budget that guy works within!)
That’s for a commissioned script, so what kind of money are we talking for a spec script you’ve written that a production company has interest in acquiring? Rarely do screenplays get purchased, they sometimes, however, get “optioned.” An option is when a company likes your script and acquires permission to shop it around town. How much can you expect for that privilege? On the higher end, you’re looking at a couple thousand dollars. On the low end, as little as $1. Usually option agreements are for a period of one to two years (after which the term is renewed or you get your rights back). But by the time you get your rights back, the script is now virtually worthless; it’s been broadcast all over town and no one has bought in. It’s yesterday’s news (and just to be clear, the likelihood of garnering a sale from an option is already very low). My advice, if you ever find yourself with a company wanting to option your script, simply say “I’ll just sell you the thing to you in perpetuity,” meaning forever. How much should you ask for? Let them make you an offer—assuming they’re interested. Even if the figure is slightly lower than you hoped, it’s probably much better than $1 with zero guarantee of anything further. (Some writers have scoffed at this advice, telling me that I’m too business-minded to appreciate their efforts; but the successful—and steadily working—screenwriters I spoke with have all agreed with my point of view. For you to make your own determination, let me ask you which of the following options you find more valuable: An unsold yet already exploited script on your desk collecting dust, or money in your pocket coupled with a professional screenwriting credit?) And, just for clarity, if you propose them simply buying the rights and they’re not interested, then absolutely say yes to the option.
However, the real money (for a real-world newbie writer) is in the process of getting commissioned to write scripts for hire—not writing blindly and hoping your script gets picked up. And whether you’re the golden child “it” writer a studio is touting (as in the $4 million example), or seeking out writing gigs on the message boards (in the $500-zone), all of these deals work as step deals.
Here’s a classic example—and for simplicity sake, we’ll use the example of a $500,000 budget, meaning a writing agreement for $25,000:
&
nbsp; Three Step deal (one treatment, two drafts)
Price—$25,000 (flat—no royalties) $2,500 upon signature of Agreement (AKA a “Signing Bonus”)
$2,500 upon approval of Treatment
$10,000 upon approval of First Draft
$10,000 upon approval of Second Draft
Credit, First Option for Re-Drafts upon Need.
Time frame: 90 days. Treatment due 2 weeks
Draft 1 due 45 days
Draft 2 due 90 days
The above deal structure takes a writer who knows how the system works and wants to be a team player. It takes a writer who is interested in writing, but also in delivering what a team needs in a very short period of time. He or she would need to understand there is no time for games and that a company is really putting a great deal of trust into them. It’s his or her job to deliver according to the contract and not deviate from the expected results.
Let’s go back to our Chapter One example of 9.6 Mega-Tsunami: the film had a budget of $450,000, but the screenplay cost $25,000 (big win for the writer). That film followed the above step deal exactly as listed. The writer made no royalties. It was a non-exclusive deal, meaning the writer was free to enter into deals with other companies at any point.
Legalese
After you’ve played the Hollywood game successfully (and have secured yourself a verbal understanding for a writing opportunity), the next step is to enter into an “agreement”… . But agreements are not one size fits all, and the type you receive is fully dependent on the specific situation you’ve negotiated for yourself—or on what the company is willing (and able) to offer. In addition, each company has their own preferred style and format. So let’s go over a few basics of common Hollywood legal docs just to get the ball rolling.
As an aside: Please understand that I am not a lawyer and do not take this section as any form of legal advice. For further reading on entertainment law, including full breakdowns of real Hollywood contracts, check out any of the books written by Mark Litwak; you can also check out Agreement breakdowns in Appendices II and III of this book.
Submission Release—This document is probably the most familiar to a newbie writer; it’s a straightforward (one to three page) document essentially announcing that you, as a writer/author, are formally submitting your finished work (treatment, screenplay, or outline) to a production company for consideration. Who does it protect? A submission release protects the production company because the writer is promising they’re responsible for the literary material (and no other person can rightfully claim story theft later on).
Letter of Intent (LOI) or Term Sheet—These documents are generally formal, but usually non-binding (meaning neither party is promising anything). The purpose, instead, is to simply document that both parties engaged in a professional conversation about a writing opportunity and discussed financial terms or deadline time frames; however, at this moment there is no formal agreement binding either party to a task. (On some occasions these documents can be binding; it all just depends on the language used.) The real incentive for the writer is proof you discussed a clear writing opportunity (story concept) with a production company (1) in case they produce a strikingly similar film in the future without your awareness (to prevent story theft) and (2) to be used as a written record that a certain dollar amount had been associated with the opportunity, in case the agreement is put on hold then returned to at a later date. LOIs and term sheets are used as a form of protection by the production company and can also be used by a producer or development executives as they attempt to raise funds to package the project together.
Option and/or Literary Purchase—These documents are getting more involved; they are for situations in which a producer or development executive wants to acquire (buy or “borrow”) the rights to your material for their needs. The literary purchase would be a full-blown purchase of your script or treatment—generally with a flat, up-front fee. Once you sell the material, it’s out of your hands forever (or at least for a staggeringly long amount of time). These are very rare for newbie writers. To option, on the other hand, is when a producer or development executive wants to borrow the rights to your material. As stated earlier in this chapter, gaining a purchase (or green light) out of an option is also quite rare… . You will get your rights back later (sometimes after six months, sometimes after a few years), but by then all the players in town who might have had interest have already been approached (and they’ve passed), meaning your project has already been seen. My advice would be, as already stated, turn any offering of an option into a purchase (even if for a seemingly small figure). You’d be surprised how many hopeful producers might hand over a few thousand dollars to own your script. And since you’re already writing every day, churning and burning your way through a few scripts each year, you’ll have better content within a few months’ time.
Writer’s Employment Agreements—These agreements are your real target; you’ve used your spec scripts as proof you can get the job done, and your Chapter Four-honed schmoozing skills to be seen as trustworthy (and dependable) by those producers and development executives who need a specific script written. When producers or development executives wish to commission your writing talents, they will be employing your talents to produce a screenplay. There will be a financial payout (which is generally equivalent to 5 percent of the actual budget) and there will be hedged steps to follow along the way (deadline for treatments, drafts, and a final delivery date). And since you’re starting out, you will be working in the non-union world as a non-exclusive “work-for-hire” employee.
When you are presented with any of the above legal documents (or any others which Hollywood might throw your way), never feel like you must handle the negotiations completely on your own. If you’re uncertain how to handle a specific legal document, hire a lawyer—with experience in entertainment law, of course. Yes, you will have to pay them a flat fee, but it’s much cheaper to pay a lawyer one time for their opinion than to be locked with an unhelpful agent for the long haul. Ask your growing network of contacts for references.
If There’s Money on the TABLE … TAKE It!
To get a better understanding or feel of the different types of deal structures, hop onto the WGA’s website (www.wga.org) for a full overview.
You’ll also find a pay scale associated with the WGA outlining standard industry minimums. Even if many indie-zone production companies are specifically seeking out non-union writers, they will usually play ball at (or reasonably near) union pay scales.
Getting paid for your talents is very important. After all, you are being commissioned to draft out the blueprint and floor plan the entire cast, crew, financial team, and sales force will use to produce a marketable product. However, being realistic about what those talents are worth in an actual marketplace is something different.
There will be countless times in your career where you know you’re getting an offer slightly lower than you were expecting—sometimes dramatically lower. But, if a lower-end production company is offering you a writer-for-hire agreement with a total payout of $8,000 instead of $25,000 (and you’ve never been paid to write a script for a movie that’s guaranteed to actually get produced and distributed in the professional world), should you say “no” out of principle? Personally, I wouldn’t. I would say “yes” to the opportunity, and secure a first real-world writing credit and use the opportunity to get a good professional reputation. Perhaps only a handful of people would say yes to the $8,000; if so, you might get two or three script-writing jobs from that team by year’s end (and you’ll learn how they work, meaning you don’t have to scrounge as much on the back-end). Suddenly your $8,000 payday became $24,000 and you have three writing credits to boot. It’s not always about principle; sometimes it’s much more about common sense.
To Union? Or Not to Union?
Almost all indie-zone films you’ll be working on during the initial stages of your career will be non-union productions. That means, any write
r with membership in the WGA will not even be considered for a writing job (of any level). There are numerous reasons as to why, but they all pretty much boil down to costs. However, after writing a non-union indie-zone film or two, you might be tempted to “up the ante” by approaching a WGA-signatory production company to get commissioned onto a WGA-covered project, but I certainly wouldn’t recommend that—at least, not yet.
Once you sign with the WGA, you can no longer write non-union films (similar to restrictions against actors joining SAG). You are locked—and there are stiff penalties if you try writing under a pseudonym. I’m not suggesting the WGA is a bad deal at all—it is a great organization and has paved the way for many beneficial rights now considered industry norms for writers. But joining the WGA does prevent your ability to write smaller low-key projects (which are the most vital writing jobs when starting out for building your reputation).
The admission requirements to the WGA work on a “point” system. If you have received a paid writing job via a WGA signatory company (on a WGA-covered project, whether an all-out commissioned script, or even just hired on for the appropriate amount of rewrite or “dialogue polish” work), you’re given a different set of points for your efforts. Once your points all add up to the minimum required number, you can apply and become an accepted member of the WGA. You pay an admission fee (a few thousand dollars) plus your quarterly union dues and you’re in.
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