Save the Cat! Strikes Back: More Trouble For... (24 page)

A new agent can help revive your career…
… but doesn't make a new you.

Is there ageism in Hollywood?

Yes and no.

We can cite hundreds of writers who feel there is, and can claim it was “being over 40” that did them in (not realizing it was the fact their ideas were “over 40”). For every sad story there is a hopeful one. Alvin Sargent, a Strike Back U. All-Star, had been writing for 40 years when he hit
Spider-Man 2
out of the ballpark. And Horton Foote was going strong well into his 90s. In TV, it may be true, but in movies, we care less about someone's age and more about their ability to write primal, meaningful stories. For those breaking in late, this seems like a barrier.

It's not.

And yet like considering getting a new agent, the phrase “re-inventing yourself” comes up after a certain point. If you've reached a dead end, or feel like you have, what can you do to jumpstart your sagging career, and make yourself appear trimmer?

► Youth injection. We know many an older writer who has paired up with a younger one. There is merit to this tactic. It's in a sense a fair swap: my experience for your fresh approach and insight into a market I may no longer understand.

► Working for free. This doesn't mean giving away work; it means working on projects like short films, webcasts, etc., that aren't paying gigs, but may lead to them. If you don't need the money and like to experiment, it might be the best way to pursue your more creative, less commercial, side, too.

► The Other Side of the Desk. Many writers moonlight in development, often taking jobs that help them get a better feel for the market, so that when they write their projects on the side, they have a better chance of selling. Many times you will see development executives put a pseudonym on their spec script when it's sent out, not only to avoid conflict of interest if it sells, but embarrassment if it does not. Overall, this is a great way to keep in the game.

These strategies for rebooting your career can work, as do attempts to play producer. Many times the screenwriter will graduate to a producer role, parlaying early success as a writer and then buying the rights to a news story, novel, or other property — and attaching himself not as writer, but as producer. See, there are all kinds of ways to skin Ol’ Cat, and being fleet of foot, sensitive like a Cat! burglar to every noise in the night, and forever attuned to the changing winds is the only way to be.

And that's what Strike Back U. is about:

It's not personal, it's business…
… and there's plenty for everybody!

Sometimes when all else fails, we have to pick up our ball and jacks and go elsewhere. Whether long term or short term, getting out of Dodge can be a healthy reboot for writers who find them-selves stalled in L.A. at any stage of their careers. Be advised it's not the only game… or the only town.

We spend our careers trying to break into the business, then one day the smart move appears to be breaking out. And one of the solutions many screenwriters are finding is moving away from Hollywood to “film towns” that offer a new freedom and a revitalized sense of the possibilities the business has always offered. Hollywood, remember, was in itself an escape destination. It was running from Thomas Edison and East Coast film syndicates impairing their ability to be free that led pioneers to settle in Hollywood and begin the Golden Era in the first place.

There is an argument the era is over and that the business is going the way of the music industry, with more independents, do-it-yourselfers, and wildcat entrepreneurs who need only a narrow but loyal audience to continue making a living. Perhaps, the current wisdom goes, those seeking more freedom should take their act out of town — often for good.

And there is quite a variety of locations to choose from.

In my travels I have discovered many such spots, some for real, some yet to emerge, and a few not as advertised. These cities offer the most hope for Hollywood II:

Austin, Texas
– “It's like
Mommie, Dearest
and you're the kid who only knows what it's like to be beaten, and then one day you have a new mother. It's like a brand new life.” This is the description writer Anton Diether used to recommend his decision to move from L.A. after a 20-year career. After years of being rewritten and told “you're the writer, just write,” Anton is now pursuing both writing and producing, and Austin has proved the perfect spot. As a film community, the city has great prospects for becoming the real deal. Both the annual Austin Film Festival and South by South-west offer access to Austin's other great creative community, the music business, and the talent pool for both above and below the line is indicative of a bright future. Directors Robert Rodriguez and Richard Linklater, and stars like Sandra Bullock and Matthew McConaughey call it home. The true test of a film town is talent,
not just tax breaks or “facilities,” and Austin has not only the creative chops but an independent streak a mile wide… and bats!

Atlanta, Georgia
– All planes go through Atlanta, an air travel hub. The city's always been a busy commercial center for advertising and industrial film, and has a vibrant music industry too. Tyler Perry has made camp here, operating a booming studio that does both TV series and films. Perry also has one of the best methods for evaluating films to be produced: the church play circuit. Weekends find Perry testing out his stories, much like stage performers in years past tried out material for their movies on the nightclub circuit. His studio is the center of a definite revival in independent filmmaking here, and though plagued by initial conflicts with both the WGA and the DGA, the balance of being away from L.A. has worked for Perry and others in this growing film community.

Vancouver, British Columbia
– The tax breaks are still great in Canada and the film business thrives here (and in Toronto). Like raising money to make movies anywhere, there is red tape involved, but here it's the governmental kind. Those bureaucrats play favorites just like at the studios. Lots of series production, especially American cable fare, is located here. Many B.C. professionals have lives in both L.A. and Vancouver.

Portland, Oregon/Seattle, Washington
– Kind of a tie between these two places. Portland's film scene is wildly independent, with local patron saint Gus Van Sant the leading light in the city's Pearl District, and a great annual film festival. Seattle, on the other hand, has a vibrant indie biz too, with lots of writers groups like the Northwest Screenwriters, and lots of contests, short film festivals, and independent theaters and actors ready to work. Both cities are populated with L.A. escapees, many of whom use the relatively short commute to justify living in the Northwest but still working in Hollywood.

Other cities and countries around the world offer similar chances for escape. UK, Australia, South Africa, India, Hong Kong, China, and Brazil have a growing global presence and an appetite for seasoned Hollywood filmmakers looking for a change of pace. Yes, there always is a new film community springing up somewhere, but the goal remains the same. Leaving Los Angeles is a great way to use what you have gathered here at Strike Back U. and take it to a place where these lessons can be put to use.

The best news about Strike Back U. is: Tuition is free. Whether you take classes in Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, London, or Sydney, or in the farflung campuses of India, Hong Kong, South Africa, and Eastern Europe, the rigors are similar, and both challenging and exciting. You the writer have a free pass to jump in and start learning.

And it's better than film school.

Putting yourself into the work-a-day world, trying to beat the system that is both welcoming and guarded at the same time, is the real test. And keeping your wits about you is really a matter of knowing what you want — and what you can deliver.

But the final subject, which we'll talk about next, is not taught in any school.

Blake's Last Blog /
August 3, 2009

“The most important thing to do is to love what you're doing. That way, getting better at it isn't a struggle, it's a pleasure.”

At the outset of this book, I boldly declared that I was about to offer you a soup-to-nuts guide for how to get out of any frustrating corner writers find ourselves stuck in.

But have we missed the odd bisque, or random filbert?

We've talked about all manner of story problems, from concept and logline to the hurdle of presenting both.

We've examined the fine points of every section of a script and seen how each has its own demand and tone.

We've gone over the mental body English (is there such a term?) required to sit still while executives who've paid us to write, rip apart our beautiful writage.

And we've given you some really lovely “inside the Beltway” tips on how to find, keep, and
hondle
your career — discussing everything from firing an agent, to finding a writing partner, to coming to grips with the possibility your future is
outside
the Beltway.

So what are we missing?

Ah, yes! My favorite!

The subject we haven't discussed, not overtly anyway, is that part of the process that is invisible — that part of “hitting the wall” that, like the hero of every good story, requires you to “dig, deep down” and find the inner strength that goes beyond the material world, that part of tapping into the big picture in which you too are touched by something you've heard of, but maybe don't believe in.

Yet.

And if I am a man of my word, and I am, I will now attempt to discuss this powerful experience.

But only if you promise not to tell.

This is just you and me talking now.

That screenwriter who won an Oscar® with his very first screenplay, we'll say a quiet prayer for him. We who have to struggle to find our stride, we who bang our noggins against the wall not getting it, I'm letting you know right now, are ahead of the game when it comes to this part. Because if you are six scripts in and haven't sold a thing, if you are stuck on a script you know is “the one” but can't get it right, if you're sure you have “the stuff” and yet are not quite connecting, all the tools — and all the success in the world — won't give you this part.

Are you ready?

What your writing career boils down to is:

Do you want it? And if you do: To say so.

It's that simple.

We move through our careers facing any number of obstacles — from people in our lives, to actual (no kidding) rejection. I mentioned Aunt Fern in the Introduction. There is no Aunt Fern, she's just a composite of every relative we will meet at Thanksgiving who does not understand. We love Aunt Fern. She means well. But when she comes up to you and looks you in the eye and says: “How's the writing coming?” that's not what she means. What she means is:
“When are you going to give up this dream of yours and join all us normal people over here by the yams?”

Aunt Fern is an amateur, but professionals take this role too — actual people with actual jobs in the business who will say: “Go home! Quit! You're not good enough!” The odd reader coverage about your script that you get your hands on can curl the hair of the bravest among us. What is the coverage on
you
? That's what it feels like. And many a professional with lots of time to her credit may even try to do you a favor, and let you down easy. “Go back to Kansas. You don't fit in here. You'll never make it.”

And why shouldn't we believe them?

Deep down in our own souls, we wonder.

Yet throughout this book, if you've been reading between the lines, there are messages written just to you that tell you that to quit would be an error. To give up now would not only be a shame, but wrong, a giant wooden shoe thrown into the wheelhouse of what should be. And if you are truly meant to pursue this career, to have success in this or any endeavor, these messages are crystal clear, shouting loudly in your ear.

Do you hear them?