To Move or Not Move to LA-LA Land

A question many screenwriters ask themselves is whether or not they should relocate to Los Angeles. While leaving Boise may initially sound like a sensational idea, the actual act of pulling up stakes and moving west may make you jittery.
Among the possible issues to examine are your ties to family and friends, the expense of moving and whether or not you're really committed to the craft of screenwriting. 
If you've completed a couple of polished scripts, have the financial means to start anew in a strange city and possess the overriding urge to get into the business, the answer is probably yes.
Some folks at Script magazine have tackled the question. They've covered some of the pros and cons, but as a whole, all signs appear to point toward an answer in the affirmative. If you want to make industry contacts and be taken seriously, you're better off facing the long odds in L.A. vs. the nearly impossible odds anywhere else, with the possible exception of New York City. However, bear in mind that New York's film industry is but a fraction of Southern California's.

A Quote Worth Thinking About ...

"I have two tricks. One is that I write every day, regardless of whether I want to or not because as I just said, in a way I never want to write. It's not even an issue. I just write four pages a day when I'm working. I have a quota. A sub-set of that system is that I am a firm believer that bad ideas lead to good ones. When I am not inspired and I don't know the solution I will just type out the most banal solution and know that at least it's on the page and it gets me to the next story beat."
--Wesley Strick
("Cape Fear," "Wolf," "True Believers," "Arachnophobia") 

Amazon Studios: It's a Jungle Out There

One entertainment lawyer says that screenwriters should think twice before signing on with Amazon's production company: http://tinyurl.com/2bsschh

Actors Unions OK New Deal

The boards of the Screen Actors Guild and American Federation of Television and Radio Artists have approved a new three-year contract. The agreement must still be approved by a majority of the unions' members.

Jonesing for Another 'Mad Men' Cocktail

 I've been watching the first season AMC's "Mad Men" again. I say "again," although I saw only most of the first season when it was originally broadcast. Then, after the onset of this silly little recession, I shut off most of the more expensive (worth watching) cable channels. Fortunately, Netflix has "Mad Men" on disc, and I re-upped my subscription. Ever since, I've been taking in the series from the beginning.
And I'm hooked -- again.
As anyone who has been watching it knows, not only is the series' atmosphere intoxicating -- the amount of liquor poured during and after office hours aside -- but the writing is splendid.
Like the best feature screenplays, "Mad Men" not only presents great characters in the show's leads, Jon Hamm's tormented Madison Ave. advertising executive Don Draper especially, but even the fringe characters at fictitious Sterling Cooper Inc., take on more dimension than do most other TV dramas supporting players in six seasons.
Draper's initially mousy secretary, Peggy Olson, discovers her calling within the creative department shark tank of the Sterling Cooper agency.
Draper's young charge and nemesis at the firm, Pete Campbell, takes drastic steps in an effort to boost his profile at the agency.
And Draper's boss, Roger Sterling, has a revelation, perhaps too late, after his boozing and philandering drives him to the brink of mortality.
This is only part of the story, of course. I'm leaving out Draper's amazing family backstory as well as the supporting cast's personal lives.
I plan to watch all seasons available on DVD, and when I'm through, read the scripts. I recommend that you do, too.

Access Hollywood? I Don't Think So ...

The never-ending debate over whether or not screenwriting consultants are useful or just snake-oil salesmen with leased Maseratis won't be resolved anytime soon. As was mentioned here in previous columns, there are many willing to read your screenplay, give notes, and even, so they claim, provide access to producers, agents and stars who get movies made.
Getting notes on your script is fine. A knowledgeable story editor can help shape up a script, find weak points and zero in on places where character development and conflict can be punched up.
Those who offer access for a handsome fee, however, should be viewed with skepticism--even if a story editor does have access to some Hollywood power players, she can hardly offer to present your script, sight-unseen, to the movie-making elite. Here's the reason: The business's upper echelon only has time for the best of the best scripts. So, say your story editor presents your good, but not great, script to one of those Gods of the industry, who can green light a script, package it with a star and a director and secure funding. The script goes to one of the mucky-muck's underpaid assistants, who reads it and writes coverage. And when the coverage come back the likely verdict is: "Stink bomb." Well, both you and your story editor buddy are henceforth pariahs in that producer's office. You won't necessarily be banished from Tinsel Town, but a couple more stunts like that and you'll be asked to move to the Valley. So, a consultant couldn't possibly offer unconditional access without burning out his friendships in short order.
And in this town, friendships are more important than a few ill-gotten dollars swindled from some unsuspecting novice screenwriters.

It's All About the Craft ... Dumb Ass!

I was listening to a podcast interview the other day with screenwriter, screenwriting consultant and producer Erik Bork, best known for his work on the HBO miniseries "Band of Brothers" and "From the Earth to the Moon," and he said the most remarkable thing. It came at the end of a lengthy discussion with Pilar Alessandra, host of the weekly podcast, "On The Page." She asked him to give the audience a writing tip, and this is, in essence, what he said was: Concentrate on the craft of screenwriting and forget about marketing yourself. Keep trying to make your writing better. Be open to notes and criticism, and forge onward. Once your writing is good enough to reach a mass audience, Hollywood will come calling on you. In a town where everyone is hustling a script, and there are consultants poised on every street corner who want to teach you how to break into the business -- for a princely sum -- these sage words struck a chord with me. Could it be that you really can't expect to make it just because, say, you're related to an industry big shot, or posed as the pizza delivery boy and brought Steven Spielberg his Anchovy Delux with your script on top? Connections will help get your script read, but if the script doesn't deliver the goods -- strong, proactive, clearly motivated characters, interesting conflicts and an ending that is surprising yet, in retrospect, inevitable, readers will recommend that their bosses pass on your script. And that's how it ends up in the Dumpster out back. Attending networking parties, for some at least, is a blast. Often, the advice you hear is get out and meet people, make connections, and presumably, get ahead. That may not be a bad idea, but don't confuse attending networking parties with the real work of screenwriting. As yet there's no substitute for sitting before a blank page and working it out, page by page, scene by scene. That's where all the real self-advancement gets done.