screenwriting

The Upside of Rejection

Posted on by Heather Magee

Rejection comes in many forms, doesn’t it? It’s sending a message to your match on Bumble to notice you’re suddenly unmatched seconds later. It’s having a recruiter view your LinkedIn profile for a dream job only to never hear back. It’s making eyes at the cute guy across the bar to realize he’s eying up the woman (or man) standing behind you. It’s wanting a snuggle from your dog and having them prefer to curl up with your spouse. Okay, that last one isn’t really rejection. Maybe your spouse has bacon in their pocket? Probably.

Point is, rejection is all around us. All the time. And it can feel end of times horrible. Like falling down a dark hole or being buried alive. Or, it can uncover something really meaningful. Without sounding too sunshiny, which is not really my style anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about the latter.

But first, here’s the thing…

Show business is fucking tough. It’s likely that doesn’t come as a surprise to most people, hence why most people don’t pursue it. Aside from the financial instability that comes with chasing something so volatile and elusive, there’s an emotional side to it too. Pouring one’s heart and soul into something, in some cases pulling from very personal experiences, all in the name of creating art that could one day reach a receptive audience is the holy grail. I’d like to think it’s why most people do it. But in order to reach that holy grail, to come even marginally close to making a viable living as a screenwriter or director or actor or any other discipline that involves storytelling, you have to get really comfortable with the word no. Or, no thanks. Or, I’ll pass. Like, having someone rub your head while telling you a story, comfortable. Like, laying in a hammock on a hot summer’s day and gently swaying in the cool breeze, comfortable. Like, having Betty White hold you and tell you everything is going to be okay, comfortable. Comfy.

I’ve always been told, the best way to break in (if you’re a screenwriter) is to just keep writing! And this is 50% sound advice. You need to build up your arsenal of polished projects. You can’t go out into the entertainment market with only one script. You need several. Most literary managers will suggest a minimum of four projects. And not first drafts either, those little babies need to be fully baked. You need to engage script readers, pay for industry evaluations, host table reads, have friends read your material, edit, rewrite and repeat. As this writer/director aptly put it on Twitter: Editing is the slow process of losing your fucking mind so that the characters might have their own.

AMEN, sir. And this is only step one. Once your babies are ready to be released into the cruel cruel world, you ­– as their creator – must hustle and network and foster relationships (meaningful relationships) and pitch and schlepp your wares around Hollywood until someone sees something in your project that previously only you could see. Until you get a YES. This could come in many forms, of course. It could be a yes to reviewing your material. Even better, a yes to producing and/or financing your material. Or a yes, I’d like to option or purchase your material. All of that is a delicious crack into the unbreakable bubble that seems to surround this industry.

Since leaving my job in June to focus on screenwriting full-time (or as long as my bank account would allow), my metaphorical babies felt ready to be revealed last September, and so the door knocking fully commenced. Two features and two pilots (both with series bibles). In the past few months I’ve been dedicated to networking, meeting new friends for coffee, leaning on existing friends to introduce me to producers and managers and scheduling as many pitch meetings as I could manage. I’ve also been submitting a short film I wrote, produced, directed and self-funded to film festivals across North America. Here’s the part of this blog post where I bust out some stats…

Rejection by the numbers

Number of meetings I’ve secured with potential literary managers – 2

Number of literary managers I’ve signed with – 0 (you only need one, btw)

Number of film festivals I’ve submitted to – 27

Number of festivals that have said no thank you (so far) – 14

Number of film and television projects I’ve been pitching – 4

Number of pitches I have delivered – 19

Of those pitches, number of development execs who agreed to review my material – 6

Number of dev execs who reviewed my material and decided to pass – 2

As you can see, a lot of grinding needs to take place in order to bump up your odds and find that one YES to kickstart your career. Not that the hustle ever ends, even if you come out of the gate with a financial or critical hit. But it definitely helps.

Here’s the secret to all of this, tho

Returning to my initial point about uncovering something meaningful amidst all this rejection – FEEDBACK. With each and every no, I’ve received some really constructive and helpful advice. Ways to elevate my stories, pick up the pacing, develop my characters, possible plot twists and ways to drive home what my protagonists have at risk but also what motivates them. It’s made me a better writer.

So, if you’re a screenwriter and you’ve made it this far (in this lengthy blog post but also in your own creative process), I can’t tell you how life changing a regular dose of rejection can be. It could be the very thing that helps you sell your first script.

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On Quitting Your Day Job

Posted on by Heather Magee

I began my career many moons ago after living in Australia for a year. While in Oz, I took odd jobs to fund my trip as I made my way around the country, every time I was running short on money or on the brink of begging my parents to pump cash into my account. Server, bartender, cleaner, shuttle bus driver – you name it.

Since then, I’ve had a satisfying professional career and I’ve met some incredible people along the way, many of them lifelong friends. And one mantra I’ve always maintained, no matter what, is to never quit your day job.

This, of course, applies particularly to people who are pursuing something creative or high risk that potentially won’t earn a viable income. I’ve always preached, especially to my creative friends, the importance of remaining gainfully employed while in pursuit of your dreams.

For some, they get lucky early on, and figure out how to blur the lines between day job and dream job. For the rest of us, it’s a delicate dance between committing fully to what feeds your belly while still carving out time for what feeds your soul.

I thought I had this down. While being relatively satisfied in my day jobs, I’ve always made time – dedicated time – to my creative pursuits. For a while it was freelance journalism and about five or six years ago, before moving to Los Angeles, it became screenwriting.

In LA, I’ve worked out a sort of writing schedule or ritual. Every Wednesday and Saturday night, for about two hours, I settle in to my favorite table in my favorite bar in Venice (the oldest bar in Los Angeles) where my favorite bartender has a cold glass of California chardonnay waiting for me. Like. Clockwork.

Last year, I decided to turn one of my scripts into a short film, something I produced, directed and self-funded while maintaining the most demanding job of my career to date. And I discovered how much I loved the experience of collaborating with a diverse group of creatives and the journey of bringing a story from page to screen. Meanwhile, as I was shooting said film, I turned 40. I’m not sure if this is related because I hate the idea of having some cliché midlife crisis, but I decided to quit my day job to develop more projects for film and TV. I guess this was my Ferrari moment?

I’m a writer first and foremost, no doubt about it. I’m happiest sat in the darkest corner of the darkest bar observing and writing. Much like the dark little London pub I’m sitting in right now as I write this. But there is something thrilling about the challenge of directing, working with actors and translating a script into a moving picture.

So here I am, nearly two months in to a self-imposed professional hiatus, having followed none of my own advice and quit my job. My goal is to complete as many projects as possible by the end of summer to pitch, develop or sell. And given I live in the real world and not the fictitious scenarios of my characters, I’ll need to land another day job soon. And that’s okay, cuz a girl’s gotta eat. But I’m grateful I was in a position to give myself the space and time to pursue these creative urges. Even more grateful to have a loving partner who understands and supports me.

I still stand by the mantra of not quitting your day job, but if you can take a little break to give your dreams your full attention, give it a shot. You never know what interesting opportunities may bubble up.

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Taking Direction from Great Directors

Posted on by Heather Magee

A little over a year ago, I was sitting in my usual perch leading up to the Academy Awards — the wine bar in my favorite LA theater – taking in all the nominated films, as any film geek does. As I was settling my bill a familiar face floated by, en route to a photo op before ducking into a closed event for directors (working and aspiring). It was Canadian director Jean-Marc Vallée (Dallas Buyers Club, Wild, Big Little Lies), my bartender confirmed, mispronouncing his name as only an American can.

I watched as film folks flooded the entrance to the theater, a steady stream of political graphic tees, unintentional fashion statements and tote bags with the quotes of great writers. A crass generalization but befitting of future storytellers. I admired them but never in a million years did I see myself among them. I’m much more comfortable lurking in the back of a dark bar or café awash in the glow of my laptop, trying to make sense of the stories that swirl in my head. Screenwriter, maybe. Director, no fucking way.

Then I wrote something that started out as a gift to a friend and morphed into a sweet little short that won some awards and suddenly hiding behind my laptop wasn’t enough. I’ve been to numerous live reads, lectures and film festivals and interviewed enough screenwriters to know that the chances of having your material made into a film are microscopic. If you want to get it made, in most cases, you have to figure out how to do it yourself.

This year, I registered for those director events. I met people who are just as terrified as I am to direct their first film. I mopped up as much creative energy, advice and inspiration as I could manage. I was reminded that every director was a first-time director at some point, as Greta Gerwig so aptly put it “you only get to not know what you’re doing once. Don’t miss it. Because it’s incredibly powerful.”

Some other helpful tips I picked up at Film Independent’s 2018 Directors Close-Up series:

  • Consider casting theater actors, particularly if you’re on an indie budget
  • When directing, have the actors envision something that will help strike the right emotion or reaction
  • If you’re shooting on location and intend to work with local talent (as I do), set up auditions via Skype or Google Hangout
  • Sometimes, for smaller parts particularly with children, consider casting amateurs
  • SoundCloud is an excellent resource for scoring your film, as it has a wealth of unsigned artists with original content
  • “Work with what the actors have. Find what they have in them and exploit it.” – Ava DuVernay

Without sounding too corny or rom-com (which is, ironically, the genre of my short) I always find the most bizarre signs present themselves when you need a little bit of cosmic encouragement to keep going.

Josh and Ben Safdie (Good Time) were panelists during one of the director events, and they were talking about sound mixing and used “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” by the Beatles as an example of isolating vocals. Lucy in the Sky is the working title of the feature I’m currently writing. The fuck.

Then one night after work, I ducked into this little Russian floral shop, not because I was in the market for flowers but because it was freezing and my Uber was taking forever. I’ve never seen so many red roses in my life (is that a Russian thing?), literally the only thing these crusty old guys were selling was roses. Save one single bucket full of white hydrangea, which is a reoccurring prop in my film. Okay, universe, I hear you.

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Finishing my second script

Posted on by Heather Magee

It always feels a bit corny to be living in Los Angeles while writing a film script. It’s so cliché it makes me blush every time I think about it. While my husband and I didn’t move to LA so I could pursue my dreams with stars in my eyes and sunshine in my soul, it does help to live somewhere where movie making is always top of mind.

This second crack at a feature length screenplay has been a lot tighter and fluid compared to my first script. I was more organized and well researched. I outlined the shit out of the thing, which of course morphed and evolved as any story does into something slightly different.

My first script was based in-part on personal experience and ended up this cathartic experience that helped me let go of things from the past and was a good exercise in script formatting. I’m not discounting it entirely, I’d like to revisit it one day and revise it from a romantic drama to the rom com it really is. As much as I wanted to avoid that genre, after hearing film producer Lindsay Doran speak earlier this year I was reminded that it’s okay to write something that makes people laugh and feel good. Some of the films I go back to over and over have happy themes and endings. God knows we could all use some pleasant escapism these days.

The 60s and 70s are eras I’ve always been fascinated by. I often say I was born in the wrong decade, because the music, fashion and attitudes of that time are much more raw and sexy and interesting to me than anything that’s happened since. So naturally, last summer, I made the lofty decision to write a biopic based on Freddie Mercury’s life. Not at all ambitious or ludicrous. Of course, the film has been in the works for years with Sacha Baron Cohen set to play Mercury, until he backed out of the project over rumoured disagreements with the remaining members of Queen. I think more than anything it’s a story I’m dying to see onscreen, and I’m just too impatient to wait for someone else to do it.

While researching my debunked attempt at a biopic, I read the memoirs of two notorious American groupies: Bebe Buell and Pamela Des Barres. Never mind writing a story about rock stars, the women who inspired some of the greatest rock albums of all time deserved my attention so much more. So that’s what I did.

It’s the story of two women who become entangled with the same musician. Not entirely based on Buell and Des Barres, but absolutely inspired by them. I tried to write something that focused on the strength of the women of that era and how so many of them played muse to artists with little to no credit. How many of them went on to enjoy their own success as musicians, mothers, writers and artists.

One of my protagonist’s is based in LA and the other in New York, which made it really easy to immerse myself in the some of the scenes because so many of the places I wrote about still exist! Working title East and West.

When I was in New York in the spring, I managed to finagle my way into Gramercy Park (scene #12) after a kind older fellow caught me awkwardly taking photos through the fence. I stood in the crumbling lobby of Hotel Chelsea (scene #70) to soak in the energy of what was once a creative epicenter and a man came up behind me (seemingly out of nowhere) and said, “You know, everyone used to live here.” Then he kind of disappeared. Maybe he was a ghost?

A few weeks ago, photographer Baron Wolman was to appear at a gallery party in Hollywood to exhibit The Woodstock Years, now famous photos he had taken of fans during the iconic music festival. The reception was to be hosted by Pamela De Barres, so obviously I had to be there and luckily I had a chance to meet the woman who in part inspired my script. And she was warm and friendly and just as lovely as I imagined her to be.

When Baron was signing the book I bought of his amazing photographs, he looked me the eye and said, “You missed it, you know. The party’s over.” I guess that’s why I wrote about it.

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Legendary groupie, author and journalist Pamela Des Barres

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C’est fini!

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Looming deadlines and accepting feedback on a script

Posted on by Heather Magee

Have you ever set a goal right down to a certain day and time and instead of feverishly attempting to hit said goal, you sat at your desk with a glass of wine watching the minutes tick away? Letting your heart skip a beat – quite literally – with each passing hour until your deadline is nigh? No? Well, I don’t recommend it.

I set a goal to complete my second feature film script by TODAY in order to submit it to the 2016 Academy Nicholl Fellowship competition. Yes, that Academy. While I have completed my first draft (huzzah!), I need time to edit and revise and refine the thing so instead of killing myself to get it done (entries must be uploaded by 11:59 p.m. Pacific Time tonight, tick tock) I’m going to blog about not getting it done. How’s that for productivity?

Self-loathing aside, Los Angeles is a great place to be if you’re learning how to craft and develop a script. Not great in the sense of risking everything to be here just to pursue screenwriting. Don’t do that. Great in that there are so many resources for writers, whether you’ve been at it a long while, or you’re brand new to the game. Live reads, lectures, table reads with your nieghbors, you name it. Hell, head to the Venice Boardwalk and read it aloud to passers-by. Fuck it, anything goes in LA.

Before diving into the joy of editing – and I do mean that sincerely, editing is the fun bit – I decided to take this time to review the notes I was given on my first script, which I submitted to the Nicholl Fellowship competition last year. My very first script, a story based in part on real events in my life followed by a whole lot of fiction. A story about a girl who is dating a boy who is horrible to her who a few years later turns out to be gay and in a strange turn of events moves in with the girl and her husband temporarily until one day the girl dies and in the end it’s all very monotonous, save a few surprising plot twists sugared with punchy dialogue. Obviously, I should stay away from writing my own film synopsis and/or movie marketing.

Here are a few notes I found helpful and not completely soul-shattering…

Title: However Unlikely
Genre: Romantic drama

However Unlikely has an interesting premise. In a reflection of modern Los Angeles society, a newly married woman helps out her gay ex-boyfriend by letting him stay in their home. After a while, it all makes complete sense and they all become close friends. There’s a certain so-crazy-it-sounds-true to the story.

The dialogue is real, the characters are not all well rounded, but they are all believable and enjoyable.

The writing is adequate and has energy at the outset that quickly diminishes. The descriptions are visual enough for the little action. The high point moments of dialogue are snappy and humorous. Unfortunately it can’t make up for the lack of action.

Here’s the thing. This is such a fun, cute, fresh premise. I really like the idea. The trouble is the execution. This script needs to go back a few steps and be restructured and tell the story it means to tell. And then there will be something really nice here. As is, there’s a lot of obstacles that get in the way of a good idea.

Good advice for any script. I may revisit that story at some point, but for now I’m submerged in something new. This time the story is set in Los Angeles, New York and London in the 1960s. This time the story is not based on my own experiences, but the memoirs of two notable women of that era. This time I’m really trying to knock it out of the park. Sorry, looming deadline, I’m gonna have to let you go.

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The funny thing about creativity and screenwriting in Los Angeles

Posted on by Heather Magee

I didn’t move to Los Angeles to pursue a career in the film industry. This question comes up almost immediately when meeting new people here. I’m not surprised, LA is the epicentre of entertainment. But I have to admit, when I’m at a party and stumble upon people with “regular” jobs, it’s almost a relief.

My husband and I moved here for every other possible cliché you can think of. To escape the dismal Canadian winters, for a new adventure, a change of scenery. To do what most people wait until retirement to do – spend our savings on living our dream now, while we’re young(ish). Despite my “regular” job and my pure intentions of enjoying the spoils of an eternal summer, it doesn’t disguise the fact that I’m plugging away at screenwriting in my spare time. *Insert eye roll here*

I didn’t move to Los Angeles to pursue a career in the film industry. But, I happen to love film so it’s not so bad living in the epicentre of entertainment. Moreover, I’m fascinated by the art of creating a script. Stringing words and dialogue together to make people feel something, whether it’s inspired or angry or balling hysterically into a box of popcorn. Film is one of the most powerful communication vehicles in the world. Why wouldn’t I want to take a crack at it, even if nothing ever comes of it?

I’m a big proponent of creating things, even if no one ever sees it. It’s still an outlet. The act of being creative can be a reward in itself, if you train your ego to give you the freedom to enjoy it.

This has always been my mantra. There’s no reason why you can’t lead a creative life, just because you don’t make a living from being creative. Which is why my best friend – a singer who has struggled to find balance between his creativity and what he deems successful – recommended I read “Big Magic”, by Elizabeth Gilbert. *Insert second eye roll here*

I don’t have anything against Gibert, other than the fact that a popular book she wrote transformed Bali from a lesser-known island paradise I traveled in the 90s to a mecca for middle-aged women writing their own memoirs of divorce and enlightenment. I digress; I needed a fun read to get me through a flight from LA to New York a few weeks ago so I picked up her new book.

I was in town for the Tribeca Film Festival but also to soak in the energy of that grand old city and recharge my creative battery. Despite living in the epicentre of entertainment, LA can really suck ones inspiration dry. The beautiful weather we moved here for is an inconvenient distraction. How could I spend a Saturday inside with my laptop when I could be frolicking at the beach? I’ve heard people joke about how New York is where you go to write and LA is where you go to pitch your script. I’m starting to get that now.

I was halfway through a screenplay that, in large part, takes place in New York. Set in the 1960s amidst some of the most iconic locales of that era, I needed to physically be there to be sure I was getting it right. How can you write about Hotel Chelsea if you haven’t loitered in its lobby, taunted its ghosts or stood below it’s failing façade, held up by precarious scaffolding? How can you describe an afternoon in Gramercy Park if you haven’t lingered by its gate, hoping to sneak in behind a kind key holder? I appreciate not all screenwriters have the means to travel to locations where their story takes place just to soak it all in, but I guess that’s one of the perks of having a “regular” job.

Back to Gilbert’s book, I was at a place in my script where I needed a spark to get the thing done and one section really kicked me in the ass. The theory that ideas float around the universe until they land on a human being they can confidently collaborate with; a channel to transform them from idea to physical thing. And if the human doesn’t act, it will eventually float away until it can find another person to collaborate with. I realize we’re edging on mysticism here, but she had real life examples to back up her theory plus who cares what or who ignites a creative spark in you. Hold on tight and go with it, people!

I’m close to completing the first draft. Whether it was New York, Elizabeth Gilbert or the universe giving me a break, I’m not sure. But sometimes your creativity needs to be confronted. Sometimes you need to shake things up to shake out your story. Sometimes you need to get the hell out of LA, instead of letting an idea passively slip away while you lounge poolside posting Instagram pics.

One morning while I was in New York I was walking over the Brooklyn Bridge when two ladies behind me mentioned Vancouver. Excited to hear some Canadian accents I immediately struck up a conversation, declaring I too was from Vancouver but currently living in Los Angeles. One of the women asked me if I was an important actress they should know about. Immediately I replied god no, I have nothing to do with the film industry. Not yet, anyway.

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