Professional Writing and the Rise of the Amateur
Last night, I had the pleasure of giving a guest lecture at Trinity University in San Antonio. While I speak at various screenwriter-oriented functions fairly often, this was unusual in that the event was university-wide, and the focus wasn’t specifically on film.
Part of the deal was that I had to announce the title of my speech months in advance. I picked, “Professional Writing and the Rise of the Amateur,” figuring that in the intervening months I would think of inspiring examples of how the World of Tomorrow was going to be a wonderland of possibility for the undergraduates in the audience.
But the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to talk about the future. Instead, I wanted to focus on one of the biggest challenges of today: in our celebration of the amateur, we kind of forget what it means to be professional.
As I spoke with various classes before the big presentation, I promised I’d post the whole speech on the site for those students who had night classes. And, of course, for anyone else who might be interested.
Let me warn you: this is long. My speech lasted 45 minutes, and that was without a lot of riffing. So if you’d rather read the whole thing as a .pdf, you can find it here.
★ ★ ★
It’s a pleasure to be here talking with you tonight. Over the last two days, I’ve been visiting a lot of classes, talking about screenwriting and movies, and well, basically talking about myself. Which I’m really good at. But when I agreed to give a formal public lecture, one of the requirements was that the presentation actually have a title. By which I mean a topic, a thesis. A point.
It all feels very academic, and I love that. I miss that. None of you will believe me now, but some day you’ll look back on your college careers and be wistful. Nostalgic. Because there’s something comforting about having to write a fifteen page paper on the use of floral imagery in “Pride and Prejudice.”
I think what it is, is that even if you’re completely wrong, it just doesn’t matter that much. For the rest of your life, you’re going to get called on bullshitting. In college, you’re graded on it.
Anyway.
I decided I wanted my lecture tonight to be not strictly about screenwriting, but about writing in general. Because everyone in this room is a writer. You might write screenplays; you might write research papers. You definitely write emails. Every one of you is, and will be, a professional writer in some field.
So I wanted to talk about what that means.
But first, I want to talk about myself.
On March 21, 2004, at about nine in the morning, I got an email from my friend James, saying, “Hey, congrats on the great review of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on Ain’t It Cool News!”
This was troubling for a couple of reasons.
First off, the movie hadn’t been shot yet. We weren’t even in production. So the review was really a review of the script. Studios and filmmakers really, really don’t like it when scripts leak out and get reviewed on the internet, because it starts this cycle of conjecture and fuss about things that may or may not ever be shot. So I knew that no matter what, I was going to get panicked phone calls from Warner Bros.
But first, I had to read what was on Ain’t It Cool News. I’m assuming everyone knows what Ain’t It Cool News is. It’s that web site run by the fat guy with red hair where they talk about upcoming movies and how everyone sucks. And at the end of every article, readers write in their comments, which are generally incomprehensible ramblings about Hulk Hogan. That’s Ain’t It Cool News.
So I clicked over there. And started reading. I’m going to sort of excerpt it here, because it’s really long. And it wasn’t written by one of the regular guys. It came from someone calling himself Michael Marker.
Dear All, I’m no inside source, just a lucky kid with a parent in the business. So with half-permission from Dad, a deep love for Roald Dahl, and a reinforced respect for John August, I’m writing my thoughts on his adaptation of Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
So at this point, one paragraph in, I’m certainly nervous. But “reinforced respect” sure sounds good, so who knows?
First let me say that there will be spoilers: The script is made of them. Too many details are twisted in with the plot and themes like the red in a candy cane — enriching and vital.
Okay, a little flowery. But still.
As with P.J. Hogan’s adaptation of Peter Pan, August keeps a firm focus on Dahl’s text and subtexts, not only highlighting key pieces of the story and characters, but reiterating Dahl’s vision with a brash inventiveness.
Cool. I rock.
August made the choice early on in the re-construction of this story to reset the locale from a Britishy, Oliver Twistian, Sixties game-show world into an amalgam of Hershey, PA and Detroit/Pittsburgh/Chicago/Suburbia. With Walgreen’s-esquestores selling Wonka Bars, and Charlie’s mom working overtime at the tennis shoe factory, August may be in critical danger of arrogantly over-Americanizing for shock value. I’m sure Mr. Dahl would be proud.
And here’s where I get perplexed. “Perplexed” is probably the wrong word, because that implies an intellectual reaction, when what I actually feel is physical. It’s the kind of nausea you get when you’re falling. Because here’s the thing: I didn’t set it in Hershey, PA. Charlie’s mom doesn’t work at a tennis shoe factory. At all. But I keep reading.
Wonka’s Entrance: The classic cane fall of course. Until an old man in the crowd kills the fun. “Imposter” he screams. … The man produces a remote and freezes Wonka with a click. The man rips off his face and VIOLA!
It actually says, “Viola!” But I’m sure the writer meant “Voila!”
It was Wonka all along. He rolls the putty face into a ball and bites off a piece like jerky. He clicks the remote and robot-Wonka bows.
This is not even remotely what happens in my script. Our version has a parody-slash-homage to “It’s a Small World” in which the little puppets catch on fire and melt. So I have to stop and think, “What the hell am I reading?” Did this guy get a copy of some other, older Charlie script without a writer’s name on it and just assume that it was mine? Or is he completely bullshitting? Either way, that nausea is becoming actual shaking.
But I keep reading:
A small touch: The doors in the Bucket house and the Chocolate Factory never close entirely. In the house it is a human habit, in the factory it is a mechanical hiss halting all doors at 99% closure.
I have no idea what this is. I have no idea what it even means.
Though modest with most visual descriptions, August has every sentence read like candy: “Show your hands and arms child, I want no secrets in this house”, “A distant dog barks, a different dog, dark, seductive”.
Hey, if I can write a seductive dog, I am a damn good writer.
And then we get to the Oompa Loompas.
Wonka explains their history in a tone as eerie as Thomas Jefferson’s letter to Tom Hart, a fellow slave owner, in 1806, “The negro has been transplanted from the Deadly Jungle of Tribal Conflict and the demons of Disease and Famine, but has done so against his will. Some would say this is the white man’s benevolence. I say it is the way of things.”
Holy shit. Thomas Jefferson? White man’s benevolence? For the record, this is a movie about a Golden Ticket and magical chocolate factory. I think we’re trying to avoid the larger socio-political ramifications of Western imperialism. The article is signed, “A loving work of fiction by Michael Marker.”
This guy is basically saying that he made up the whole thing, but here it is online, presented as if it’s true. This “review” is overwhelmingly positive, but also overwhelmingly wrong.
So what do I do?
Fortunately, I know exactly one person at Ain’t It Cool News. His name is Jeremy, but he goes by the handle “Mr. Beaks.” I’d had lunch with him a couple of weeks earlier to talk about Big Fish and Tarzan. So I email him, and say, hey, that review of the Charlie script is bullshit.
Actually, I don’t say that. I say, “That guy is bullshitting you.” It’s not that I’m wronged, no. It’s that that guy, Michael Marker, is besmirching the good name of Ain’t It Cool News by trying to pass off his deluded ramblings as truth. How dare he!
And it works. Mr. Beaks talks to Harry, and Harry posts a new article saying that the review was bogus. They don’t pull the original article, but oh well. It’s basically resolved.
But I can’t help but think… This article was wrong, but it was really, really positive. What if it had been negative? Would Mr. Beaks or Harry Knowles have believed me? Probably not. They would have said, “Oh, sour grapes.” My complaining would have made the readers believe the bogus review even more.
See, the thing is, if you ever try to really go after Ain’t It Cool News, or one of the other film-related sites, criticizing them for say, running a review of a test screening or just outright making shit up, you get one standard response:
Hey, we’re not professional journalists. We’re just a bunch of guys who really love movies.
And that’s where we rejoin the thesis topic of the evening: professional versus amateur.
What do those words even mean anymore?
The classic, easy distinction is that the professional gets paid for it, while the amateur doesn’t. For a lot of things, that works. You have a professional boxer versus an amateur. You have a professional astronomer versus an amateur — some guy with a telescope in his back yard.
A friend tried to make the distinction that, “The amateur does something for the love of it.” Which is kind of defeatist if you think about it. Like, the minute someone pays you for doing what you love, you stop loving it.
Maybe that applies to prostitution, but I don’t think it’s a universal by any mean.
For instance, I feel exactly the same way about screenwriting now as when I first started, back when I was sleeping on the floor and eating Ramen Noodles. That is: I kind of hate writing, but I love having written. I would rather do almost anything than sit down and write a scene. But having written it, then reading it back? Pure gravy.
And really, the “getting paid for it” distinction doesn’t hold up to much scrutiny. An amateur photographer can take a picture that ends up in Newsweek. That doesn’t make him a professional. A blogger can sell Google ads on his site, a few pennies per click. That doesn’t make him a professional, at least not in the way I think we want to use the word.
And here’s my first thesis for the evening:
“Professional” has nothing to do with getting paid.
When we say “professional,” I think what we’re really talking about is “professionalism,” which is this whole bundle of expectations about how a person is supposed to act. I’m going to try to list what I think those characteristics are.
The first is “presentation.”
I used to call this, “giving a shit,” but I decided I was swearing too much for an academic setting.
Here’s what I mean by presentation. Let’s say you write a business letter, and it’s full of typos and grammatical mistakes. Not professional.
Or you’re a funeral home director, and you sit down with the grieving family while wearing a Ramones t-shirt. Not professional.
Obviously, what I’m getting at is that there’s an expectation about how a professional presents him or herself, either in person or in writing. You want to make sure that your audience sees you in your best light, which means spell-checking and putting on a clean shirt.
Being a professional means looking like a professional.
The second characteristic we’re talking about when we mean “professional” is “accuracy.”
If you’re an accountant, and you misplace a decimal point, that’s unprofessional. If you’re a surgeon who amputates the wrong arm, that’s inaccurate, and unprofessional. And really awful.
The third characteristic is “consistency.”
Let’s say you go to a restaurant, and they serve really good Mexican food. The next time, they serve all Hungarian food. Do you go back a third time? Part of professionalism is consistency. It’s delivering what people expect every time.
And of course, showing up on time. If the only thing you’re consistent in is “consistently late,” then that’s not professional.
Next, “accountability.”
That means, when asked the question, “Who did this?” You can raise your hand and say, I did. I was responsible. Accountability is sort of the opposite of anonymity. It’s why you see bylines on newspaper articles.
The last characteristic of professionalism, at least that I can think of, is “meeting peer standards.”
By that I mean that within the class of people doing what you’re doing, there’s consensus about what’s acceptable and what’s not. Sometimes, that’s codified, like Realtors with a capital-R, or lawyers and the bar association. A lot of times, it’s less formal, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Whether it’s waiters sharing tips with the busboys, or undergraduates sharing notes before a test, there’s pretty clear agreement about what’s okay. And probably more importantly, some consequence if you don’t meet the standards of your peers.
So to review, here’s what I’m including in my definition of “professional”:
Presentation, a.k.a. “Giving a shit”
Accuracy
Consistency
Accountability
Peer standards
There’s no good acronym. I tried. But I think these five things are what you’re really talking about when you use the word “professional.” Which leads us to:
Thesis two:
A lot of the “professional” media is staggeringly unprofessional.
That seems pretty obvious, but it doesn’t make it any less depressing. Here are two magazines I bought at the airport on the way here.
The first is Us Weekly. The second is OK Weekly. You can see they both have articles about a certain celebrity couple.
Wow, you know, I spend sleepless nights worrying about Tom and Katie’s marriage. To bring this back to me, which is the topic I feel most comfortable with, I actually know Katie Holmes, from Go. I adored her. For a while, I would actually call her on her birthday. But then I realized that a 19-year old woman and a gay guy who’s quite a bit older having nothing in common.
But God bless’em. They’re making it work.
We hope. It’s hard to say. Because one magazine says they’re rock solid, the next says it’s falling apart. Let’s try to apply our standards of professionalism to these magazines to see where we’re at.
Presentation: You could object to the font choice, and I hate when they write on the photos, like it’s a yearbook or something. But everything is spelled right. You can’t say the presentation is unprofessional.
Accuracy: Well. Tougher to say. Are Tom and Katie really splitting apart? I’ve been in relationships where I had no idea whether we were staying together or falling apart.
Consistency: Not a strong suit. If you think back to Nick and Jessica (I know, heartbreaking), one week it was his fault, one week it was hers. And you got the impression the editors wrote it both ways and decided which version worked better with the photos that week.
Accountability: How do we know there’s trouble in paradise? “Sources say.” Really. Sources. Why do I have a hard time believing these sources? Maybe it’s because the sources they actually bother to mention by name have nothing to do with Tom or Katie, and are openly speculating.
That’s a dangerous trend, because you can find someone who will say just about anything for you. Some of the terms to watch out for are “media watchdog” or “celebrity observer.” Really, aren’t we all celebrity observers? I bought this magazine. That makes me a celebrity observer.
Peer standards: I’m picking on two magazines. Are all magazines the same? Honestly, no. I think Time Magazine or Newsweek generally have higher standards, particularly when covering “hard news” as opposed to entertainment journalism.
“Entertainment journalism” is one of those weird terms that gets more unsettling the more you think about it. To me, it’s like that optical illusion where it’s either a vase or two women looking at each other. Is it journalism about entertainment, or entertaining journalism?
That’s probably a whole other lecture. But I think we obviously don’t hold Entertainment Tonight or Access Hollywood up to the same standards as 60 Minutes. As an audience, we watch and we see, “This is a show about celebrities,” and just assume and accept that most of what we’re watching is manufactured. Where it gets awkward is where you have an actual news person like Diane Sawyer going with Brad Pitt to Africa to talk about the famine. It’s not really a news story; it’s not really news. And I think it makes it harder to take Diane Sawyer seriously when she’s reporting actual news.
Now, one of the things that’s not readily apparent to people who live and work outside of the film industry is that Hollywood is a really small town. Everyone calls each other by their first names, even if they don’t know each other. And we have two small-town newspapers: Variety and The Hollywood Reporter.
If you work in the industry, you subscribe to both of them, and they’re delivered every morning. Variety in particular is known for its own insider lingo that makes it almost unreadable. They call it Slanguage. Premieres are called preems; presidents are called prexys; and no one ever quits a job, they ankle. Their most famous headline was from 1935: “Sticks Nix Hicks Pix.” Which meant that people in the Midwest weren’t attending movies about farmers.
The Hollywood Reporter, on the other hand, is written in English.
Both newspapers have web sites, where you can get most of the same content you get in the physical paper. But the Hollywood Reporter also has a blog, written by its Deputy Editor, Anne Thompson. The blog doesn’t really have full stories, but rather little blips, paragraphs. Like, well, a blog.
About a week ago, I read something on the blog that sort of troubled me.
Thanks to Stax, IGN FilmForce’s resident Bond maven, for this link to a description of the new James Bond script. If you don’t want to read the spoilers, don’t go there!
And it included a link to a review of the script for the new James Bond movie.
Now, if you’ve been paying attention to when I started this lecture-type monologue, you’ll remember that I kind of have an issue with script reviews. I don’t think they’re a good thing. To me, it’s like calling someone’s baby ugly off of an ultrasound.
I was upset by the script review of Charlie on Ain’t It Cool News, and that was a bogus review. Here’s the Deputy Editor of The Hollywood Reporter linking to a script review. I didn’t think that was right. So I called her.
And her first question was, “Is the link broken? Did it not work?”
Yeah, Anne, it works. But I don’t think it should be there at all.
I asked her if she would have run the same piece in the printed version of The Hollywood Reporter. She said no, of course not. But this was a blog, and blogs are different.
And that’s when we got to the heart of the matter: she envied the blogs. On some level, she envied Ain’t It Cool News, because they were able to report on rumors and speculation without the same burdens as The Hollywood Reporter. The trade papers have an unspoken contract with the readers that they are only going to report the verifiable facts. The blogs of the world don’t, and because of that, they can get away with a lot more.
We had a good conversation about her decision to include the piece, and the challenging distinction between capital-J journalism and what happens on the internet. Ultimately, she revised the piece to remove the link.
But what I didn’t tell her, but I’m going to tell you now, is that I think it was incredibly unprofessional for her to have posted that piece in the first place. It was ridiculous that it took me calling her for her to agree to take it down.
Coming back to the issue of professionalism: There’s no question that she’s a professional journalist in the classic sense. She’s a paid editor at one of the most respected industry newspapers. She can’t turn around and say, oh, but in this context, I’m just a blogger. You can’t hold me to the same standards.
That’s really Thesis #3:
You don’t get to pick when you’re going to be professional, and when you’re going to be amateur.
Maybe the best way to prove this is to think back to when you were in high school geometry class. Which for some of you, was like, last year. Remember, there are two kinds of proofs? There are direct proofs, where you follow from your postulates and axioms to prove something, and then there’s the indirect proof. For the indirect proof, you assume the opposite, then follow it through until it reveals itself to be illogical.
This is an indirect proof.
So let’s say, okay, you do get to decide when you’re going to be an amateur, and when you’re going to be a professional. Let’s follow that logic through.
When would you choose to be a professional? Well, probably when you’re doing your best work. The work you feel confident about. Good about. It’s easy to be a professional when everyone says you rock.
What do you get out of identifying yourself as a professional? Well, sometimes you get access. If you’re a professional photographer, you might get access to a news event that an amateur wouldn’t. You might paid. As a professional screenwriter, I get paid pretty well for writing witty dialogue. A professional actor gets a paid a lot more for saying the witty dialogue I wrote (but that’s another issue).
As a professional, you also get respect of your peers. You get to sit at the grown-up table, rather than the kiddie table. In terms of life-satisfaction, that can be worth a lot.
Clearly, there are a lot of reasons why you want to be considered a professional.
When would you choose to be an amateur? Well, probably the moments in which you obviously suck, either because you don’t know what you’re doing, or you’re just not very good at it. Or at least in the moments when people are criticizing you. You’d say, “Hey, what do you expect? I’m only an amateur.”
That sounds like Ain’t It Cool News. You’re using amateur status as an excuse.
You’re basically saying, “Don’t judge me.”
And here’s where this indirect proof falls apart: People will always judge you. You can’t control that. You can’t control what scale they’re going to judge you on, or which criteria are most important.
The only thing you can control is your work. And that’s why your work, all of your work, has to be professional.
And what do I mean by professional?
Back to the five things that I don’t have a good acronym for:
Presentation: If your writing is rambling and incoherent and ungrammatical, people are going to judge you on that.
Accuracy: If you’re flat-out wrong, that matters. And that’s not just in the sense of journalism. If you’re drawing conclusions that aren’t backed by the data, that’s a problem. If you’re studying human cloning, you can go from being the hero of South Korea to its greatest villain in about a week. Trust me, that guy isn’t going, “No, you don’t understand, I’m an amateur cloner.”
Consistency: Can people count on you? I’m sure everyone in this room has had to do a group project. And there’s always that one guy who doesn’t pull his weight. Shows up late. Didn’t get that thing written quite yet. Don’t be that guy. You need to show up, on time, and be ready.
Accountability: Do you stand behind what you say, and what you do? It’s really easy to have strong opinions. It’s a lot harder to live by them.
Meeting Peer Standards: Going back to Thanksgiving, once you graduate to the adult table, you really can’t go back to the kiddie table. You can’t throw food any more, or they’re going to stop inviting you.
So my thesis was, “You don’t get to decide when you’re going to be professional, and when you’re going to be an amateur.” We can shorten that.
Thesis 3.01:
You don’t get to be an amateur at all.
Right now, a lot of you are thinking, crap, that’s a lot of pressure. When I graduate, when I’m in the real world, I’m going to have to be, like, professional.
And I’m saying, no. This IS the real world. You have to be professional right now. Because everything you’re writing, be it your English paper or your profile on FaceBook, that all has your name on it. It all stands for you. And in the age of Google, everything you’ve ever written, even that snarky comment you left on the message board, is linked back to you.
So you have to ask yourself: a year from now, five years from now, how am I going to feel when someone asks me about that thing I wrote?
Truly, honestly, I don’t mean to be Mr. Doom and Gloom. If you feel like writing 1500 words about your cat in your blog, go for it. I’m just asking you, pleading with you, to spellcheck. Mr. Whiskers deserves it. Tuck in your virtual shirt and take even the frivolous stuff seriously.
Let me talk about two examples from my own experience:
The very first script I wrote was called Here and Now. It was a romantic tragedy set in Boulder, Colorado. It was your classically overwritten first script, where I tried to cram in everything I knew about everything, because there’s that sense of, maybe I’m never going to write another script, so I better put it all in this one.
The script turned out well, and was ultimately good enough to get me an agent, and eventually got me a paid job writing a script for somebody else.
Now when I go back and read the script, I wince. I’m a better writer now than I was then. But I’m not ashamed of that script, because it’s professional. Presentation-wise, there’s no egregious typos. It’s accurate, at least about the emotional details. It’s consistent; in screenwriting, there are a few acceptable ways of formatting things, and any of them are okay, as long as you pick one and stick with it. I still feel accountable for the script. I don’t send the script out any more as a sample, but if someone’s read it, I’ll still happily talk about my choices.
And finally, this is the important thing: the script met peer standards. Even though I was a newbie screenwriter, I wasn’t trying to write for other newbie screenwriters. I was writing as if I were a professional screenwriter, and I wanted people to read it that way.
Second example: Currently I maintain a website, basically a blog, about screenwriting. The little tagline on it is, “A ton of useful information about screenwriting,” which is hopefully true. I set up the website because when I was an aspiring screenwriter — notice, I said “aspiring” not “amateur” — it was really hard to find good information about screenwriting and how to do it. I started writing a weekly question-and-answer column for the Internet Movie Database, and ultimately used those columns to form the basis of the site.
I update things about twice a week, and I really take it quite seriously. It’s not my job; I don’t get paid anything; I don’t even have those little Google ads on the site. But I’m really professional on the site, in all five senses of what I mean by professional. I want it to look good. I check my spelling. I check that all the links work. I try to make sure that I’m giving consistent advice from week to week. And as peer standards, I’m not looking at other screenwriter sites, but the most helpful sites in any other discipline. I try to live up to those standards.
And I do that because it has my name on it. I think you need to look at your name as sort of your brand. Just like the Walt Disney Corporation doesn’t want Mickey Mouse portrayed with a bloody cleaver in his puffy white hand, I don’t want my name associated with bad, unprofessional writing.
All you have is your work. So do your best work. At all times.
In closing, I want to say that my criticisms of Ain’t It Cool News, or Us Weekly or crappy blogs aren’t meant to be disheartening. I think we’re actually living in one of the most exciting times in media history. The barriers to entry have never been lower. You can make a short film with a $500 camera, and post it on YouTube.com, and be a worldwide sensation the next day. With a blog, you can respond to media in ways you never could before, and your readers can respond back.
I think the closest parallel to where we’re at was the early 90’s, when you suddenly had laser printers. I was a graphic designer, so I was in heaven. But I think we all remember what happened, don’t we? Suddenly, there were a lot of crappy newsletters. And we learned a painful lesson: Just because you can make a newsletter with 50 fonts on the cover, doesn’t mean you should.
So I guess what I’m asking, what I’m pleading for, if you can read my subtext, is that we approach these new tools not like amateurs, but like professionals. Unlike that crappy newsletter, which got recycled, your blog post is going to be around forever. Forever. Historians will read it and wonder, “Jesus. Didn’t they have spell check?”
No matter what career you end up choosing, you will be a writer for the rest of your life. Make a promise to yourself tonight that you’ll always be a professional one.
Thank you.
Articles
March 1st, 2006 at 7:37 pm
If it weren’t for the debilitating news that Tom and Katie are on again, off again, I could hug you, John. Your speech provided a lot of insight into the differences between Amateurism and Professionalism, especially as I’m currently doing subjects at school that require a sense of professionalism (especially my Video, Radio and Journalism classes). It couldn’t be better put, to be professional, even if you’re not in the industry yet, for the sake of capital-J journalism.
March 1st, 2006 at 8:13 pm
Awesome speech John! I was thoroughly entertained by your speech and I completely agree with you. Keep on kicking ass!
March 1st, 2006 at 8:49 pm
Great article as always, John.
I would have liked to see you bring up how film critics take blind speculations about a director’s contributions to a picture and then present them as facts. Could a sports writer or gossip columnist or any other writer for the newspaper get away with that? Why don’t screenwriters raise more hell about this?
Oddly enough, I was going to quote Roger Ebert’s review of Go as an example, but when I looked it up I saw that he has changed it to something (a little) more generous to the writer. Do you know anything about this?
March 1st, 2006 at 9:05 pm
Thank you for a very insightful and entertaining lecture. Last night was the second time I watched one of your presentations. I saw you a few years ago in LA before Big Fish was released. As an aspiring screenwriter and educator, I sincerely appreciate your dedication to teaching others from your own expertise. I immediately phoned my writing partner after your lecture to let him know how inspired I was by your enthusiasm for writing. There are certain things you said in both lectures that addressed specific issues and situations that I have dealt with in my pursuit of a writing career. I am comforted to know that you have shared some of the same situations.
March 1st, 2006 at 10:22 pm
You should have used Powerpoint.
I would have loved to see the bullet item:
Presentation, a.k.a. “Giving a shit”
March 1st, 2006 at 10:30 pm
John, thanks for the reminder about professionalism. Far from being disheartening, it’s encouraging to remember that even if you’re not yet a professional, you can still be professional.
March 1st, 2006 at 10:30 pm
Well done John. A lovely reminder for the aspiring that “getting paid for it” really has nothing to do with professionalism, and everything to do with accountability. What was that great line in “As good as it gets”, about reason and accountability? Agreed, there can be nothing as egregious as “reviews” of screenplays yet to be produced. Who are these idiots and where do they get them? On a separate note, I’d like to see you address the whole “A Film by” credit debacle. It must be galling as a screenwriter to have someone claim total authorship of a film they may only have taken as a director for hire. Seems selfish and hyperbolic when so many great artists are involved in the making of a good picture.
I’ve submitted several questions to your Q&A pages, with nary a response. Oh well, I forgive you. Keep up the good work. Love the site!
March 2nd, 2006 at 2:18 am
John wrote: “A friend tried to make the distinction that, “The amateur does something for the love of it.” Which is kind of defeatist if you think about it. Like, the minute someone pays you for doing what you love, you stop loving it.”
A couple of years ago a friend and I were writing a feature film ( in Madrid, Spain) we were kind of preparing our second draft, we decided to rewrite and restructure a lot of stuff. We were confident: that’s what the story needed, though it would be a hard work for us.
Meanwhile, our producer was writing his comments… (of course, those comments never arrived. An essential thing one should know about spanish producers is they never read scripts, even if they’re actually producing the movie. That little detail doesn’t imply they don’t send comments or lead meetings about that script)
The thing is: my co-writer and I found ourselves wishing the producers allowed us to do some major changes on the script… otherwise, if they just wanted tiny details to be rewritten, we would be asking for more money…
I think usually getting paid for your work means also… you don’t decide about it. Pros and cons of professional writing, I guess.
(Sorry for my poor english)
March 2nd, 2006 at 4:39 am
Wow John!
Seriously, nice speech! From now on, I’ll be professional. No more links to script reviews. No kidding.
March 2nd, 2006 at 7:39 am
John,
The speech was even better live. For those here who could only read it, John really manages to keep the energy and enthusiasm up while imparting loads of easy-to-assimilate information. I’ve found this is a rare gift. I’d heard some of the things before, but not so well explained, and with a insights I hadn’t considered before. We all had fun and hope he’ll come back down to the Alamo city soon. Thanks!
March 2nd, 2006 at 7:57 am
I am an aspiring (not amateur) opera singer. One of the things many of the “professionals” tell us up-and-comers is that if you want to be considered a professional by your peers you must act profesionally at all times.
There are quite a few young professionals in the opera world with, ahem, problematic vocal technique. But they keep getting hired because directors and other singers like working with them. They are consummate professionals.
Perhaps the lesson in any profession is yes, your mastery of your craft is important. But if no one wants to work with you, you will not be considered next time. For me, the definition of “Professionalism” is “the ability to make others glad you’re part of the team.”
~Jon
March 2nd, 2006 at 9:13 am
I just read your speech and couldn’t agree with you more! Sometimes I wonder where professionalism and taking pride in one’s work has gone in today’s society.
March 2nd, 2006 at 9:50 am
Digging the ultrasound analogy.
March 2nd, 2006 at 12:21 pm
John,
What an entertaining and, more importantly, inspiring speech. Thank you for sharing.
It reminded me of that great Thoreau quote about “living the life you’ve imagined for yourself.”
p.s. “But what do a 19 year old woman and a much older gay man have in common?” had me on the floor.
March 2nd, 2006 at 12:23 pm
Oh, one more thing.
Given that they are regularly invited to junkets, are courted by the studios (given set visits, etc.), have their reviews now quoted in trailers and no doubt make scads of money on advertising, the old “we’re not professionals” excuse on AICN really doesn’t wash anymore.
Time for them to clean up their act and act like pros!
March 2nd, 2006 at 2:38 pm
Hi John,
Great speech and as a newspaper journalist I too lament the decline of professionalism. This was brought home to me the other day when I attended a business conference and had to compete with bloggers for media accreditation.
But there’s something I’d like to point out in reference to your example about the Casino Royale script review posted on Latino Review. In reality this is no different to a leaked Government draft report being quoted in a newspaper article. The Washington Post and New York Times do this all the time.
Leaked reports, often early drafts, are the motherlode for journalists. They are the antidote to the Ken Lays and Jeffrey Skillings of this world. The facts get to speak for themselves and as long as you acknowledge in what context the information was published and conform with the law you can disseminate those facts. Nothing speaks louder than cold hard facts.
It’s arguable that there’s less of a public interest element when it comes to publishing reviews of leaked scripts, but the principle is exactly the same. As it happens, that script review allegedly raised some concerns about a proposed scene that closely mirrored a real life incident in which an innocent man died at the hands of police. Maybe the scene is insensitive, maybe not, but its better the family of the dead man know about it now than when Casino Royale hits the multiplex.
As a screenwriter, you are understandably uncomfortable about half-formed ideas being given wide public attention and rightfully so. But there’s nothing inherently unprofessional in someone who has been leaked your script publishing a review of it as long as they are basing their review on the genuine article and can back up their facts. The Hollywood Reporter journalist is completely within her rights to link to a script review. Whether she can vouch for the authenticity of the report is another story and is probably why the HR doesn’t cover script reviews in the paper (along with the fact that they don’t want to burn their studio contacts).
In that case she showed an unprofessional attitude by admitting she had different publication standards for her blog but the fact remains, cold hard facts are the bread and butter of the media and if the gatekeepers of those facts are relied on to deliver them when convenient to them, journalists haven’t a chance.
Peter
March 2nd, 2006 at 3:02 pm
I very much admire your respect for high standards, John. There are too many people out there in the world with no standards at all. Keep fighting the good fight!
March 2nd, 2006 at 6:20 pm
John:
A fantastic, inspiring speech. Please write a book on this. Seriously.
Peter:
Your analogy of a leaked Government document doesn’t hold up. Leaked reports are often complete, and if not, are unlikely to substantially change their conclusions (since the reports are usually analyses of facts).
Screenplays, however, are works of art, which can and will change during the course of development, production, and even post. They are rarely representative of what ends up being shot, and even further from what you see at the multiplex.
March 2nd, 2006 at 6:46 pm
I agree with Konrad and feel it necessary to point out that the 3rd post by “Peter” was not by the same “Peter” (me) that made the first two Peter posts…or something…
And there is zero public interest in seeing a script before the movie is made except to satisfy the curiosity of film geeks and AICN readers. John’s “sonogram” analogy is dead on, a script is a work in progress. For a friggin’ movie. The AICN folks are not Woodward & Bernstein. Comparing the leaked “Casino Royale” script to something like the Pentagon Papers or even to corporate “whistle blowing” is the height of absurdity.
March 2nd, 2006 at 7:04 pm
I think Pete’s “leaked government reports” analogy is applicable up to a point.
One crucial difference is that the government is employed by its citizens; on a fundamental level, the report belongs to the citizens. A screenplay, or a movie, does not.
March 2nd, 2006 at 7:57 pm
Dear John, I feel, no, I reprimand that you’re making a huge assumption on pg. 5 when you state: “What if (the article) had been negative? Would (…) Harry Knowles have believed me? Probably not. They would have said, “Oh, sour grapes.”".
Talk about facts: The article was positive and the AICN team pulled it the moment you vetoed its authenticity. Why accuse them of imaginary misconduct to found your argument?
B.T.W. same page, third line from bottom, “mean” is missing an “s”. The shortcoming of spellchecking.
March 2nd, 2006 at 8:22 pm
Sound advice, amusingly delivered. Thank you, sir.
March 2nd, 2006 at 9:48 pm
Hey Johnny,
I don’t think I was accusing AICN of imaginary misconduct. I called them unprofessional, which, ironically, is something they kind of celebrate.
I gave the facts, then examined what would happen if you changed one variable (the bogus review being negative versus positive). Call it speculation or conjecture, fine. It’s clearly an opinion.
March 2nd, 2006 at 10:31 pm
Well, then, it’s all just opinions, ain’t it..?
March 3rd, 2006 at 1:33 am
To be treated as a “professional”, one must first be “professional”.
Even if someone is not a “professional” yet, they can still act “professionally” until they become one.
In fact, that is often “how” and “why” they become a “professional” in the first place.
This is applicable to ALL “professions”.
In the Entertainment Industry, this applies not only to screenwriting, but to everything else in the Business as well.
Even the infamous and cantankerous Art Murphy wore a suit, and acted professionally, when it was appropriate.
-Juttss-
March 3rd, 2006 at 7:51 am
I’d be very curious to hear your thoughts on “professional attire” in this business. We have the Josh Friedman sweatpants example, but I still feel I should look nice in a meeting–business casual at least.
Is that sort of professionalism appriciated (as I would expect) or is it seen as trying too hard?
March 3rd, 2006 at 11:13 am
brilliant as usual. i am a professional musician and i constantly decry the lowering of professional standards in my industry. your standards apply perfectly. thank you.
March 3rd, 2006 at 2:55 pm
Great speech, John. Very interesting. Though I’m not sure I understand the role of “accuracy” when writing fiction. Could you flesh that out a bit?
March 3rd, 2006 at 6:26 pm
Yes, bravo on the lecture! Thanks for your courteousness and especially your patience. I almost rolled in my grave when that chick just point blank asked, “How do you get an agent?” Egads. And I’m not even dead.
Anyway, I posted the picture you signed for me on my site for anyone that doesn’t know what you look like. Hope you don’t mind.
Actually, I don’t care if anyone knows what you look like. I’m just gloating.
March 3rd, 2006 at 7:20 pm
“That is: I kind of hate writing, but I love having written. I would rather do almost anything than sit down and write a scene. But having written it, then reading it back? Pure gravy.”
After the day I had today in front of my computer. I NEEDED TO HEAR THAT FROM SOMEONE LIKE YOU. It’s exactly how I’m feeling right now.
Thanks.
March 3rd, 2006 at 11:12 pm
I don’t quite understand screenplay reviews either. Judging a yet-to-be-released film based on a screenplay is sort of like judging yet-to-be-built architecture based on the blueprints (in case we’re not all tired of that analogy yet). I can’t imagine trying to judge, say, Antoni Gaudi’s Casa Batlo based on the blueprints.
March 4th, 2006 at 1:03 am
Thank you for this brilliant speech. From the perspective of an aspiring writer professional it was truely inspiring and encouraging. In my native language (german) I would also describe it as lehrreich. I agree with your interpretation of professionalism altho I also feel sometimes professionals in the conventional meaning of the word should be like amateurs and not build that high wall around their profession. Before I decided I want to write scripts for a living, I was constantly scared of the elitism that surrounds the business to some degree. Thus I have to thank you especially for sharing this wonderful piece. Thank you.
March 4th, 2006 at 4:57 am
Stunning, stunning post. Wish I could have seen the speech live, but thank you for sharing it with us, Mr. August. The principle of “Act as if ye had a paycheck, and a paycheck shall be given unto you” is not new, but I’ve never seen it so forcefully backed up with logic and references.
March 4th, 2006 at 5:28 pm
Funny - “Jesus. Didn’t they have spell check?” It’s true, on the Internet nothing ever truly goes away. You can delete something on your site and yet it can still be found using the fascinating Wayback Machine (archive.org). The Internet truly is your permanent record!
I gave presentation recently to a group of writers on why they should have websites. I’m a writer and a website manager. One of the cautions I mentioned was regarding “appropriateness.” My point was, like you very eloquently state, to be professional and only publish to your site material that won’t embarass some future version of yourself. Because nothing ever goes away.
I’m shocked by the blogging examples you provide. If bloggers are truly going to be independent fact-checkers of the mainstream media then they’re going to have to demonstrate greater professionalism. If the past few years have proven anything, it’s that we all have to be skeptical consumers of news, whether it’s online, in print, or on the air.
March 5th, 2006 at 3:05 am
“Accuracy when writing fiction” basically means you do researh I would guess. Like if you have two people meeting at the Empire State building you have the adress right or have teh right number of floors or something. I mean fiction is not true but you have to becareful about real world references. Like if you reference the statue of liberty but it wasn’t build yet in your time. If that helps.
March 5th, 2006 at 11:17 am
Interesting post. Personally I dislike Aint it Cool, and only visit the site if someone has linked directly to something they know I’d be interested in.
But I’m not a spoiler fan, and not too fond of hearing rumours about films before I see them.
btw, I’ve quoted you
March 6th, 2006 at 11:37 am
Hey John Austin the cowboy/astronaut! Thanks again for coming to see our campus and allowing me the opportunity to stare at you all day. (Was that last sentence stalkerish?) I’m the young woman who likes Noggin, though if you say it out loud, it makes me sounds either like an alcoholic or that I really can’t wait for Christmas.
You mentioned being torn between two possible projects. Have you decided yet? And in reference to the musical one, how would it compare to other musicals that spoof musicals, such as the musical episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Ooo, you could have a little cameo as someone singing about their coffee or Katie/Tom’s relationship status.
Thanks again for all of the wonderful advice you dispensed, Mr. August!
March 6th, 2006 at 11:40 am
And speaking of professionalism, I wrote my website address wrong on the last post. Guh.
March 7th, 2006 at 10:54 pm
Hey Mr. August, I’m a student up here at Trinity. I really enjoyed the workshops you gave, and thanks again for coming out here. After the second workshop, I asked you if you would read a short script (”The Sniper”) that I had written, and you told me that if I hadn’t heard back from you in a week, to leave a message here on the website. I really don’t mean to bother you, and I understand if you’re too busy, but I was just wondering what you thought of it.
Also, feel free to delete this after you’ve read it. I couldn’t find anywhere else on the site to send a message.
-Jon
March 8th, 2006 at 7:36 pm
Interesting article.
“With a blog, you can respond to media in ways you never could before, and your readers can respond back.”
Have you happened onto Newvine.com yet? Where essentially you can help form the news?
Also I saw a site the other day that was meant to allow you to aggregate the comments you left here and there on the net.
Truly an interesting time in media. Thanks for a thoughtful speech … err … article for me since I wasn’t there …
April 8th, 2006 at 5:49 pm
Great speech, and as arrogant as this sounds, allow me to quote Julius Erving–yeah, that’s right, Dr. J–on his description on what it means to be professional:
“Being professional means doing the thing you love to do, especially on the days you don’t want to do it.”
I think that sentiment, along with your 5 senses, reflect the essence of professionalism, and ultimately, self respect.
April 11th, 2006 at 3:17 pm
Hi John,
For the sake of a professional presentation, I just wanted to point out an error you overlooked and might want to fix. The following sentence has a grammar error and a punctuation error: “But then I realized that a 19-year old woman and a gay guy who’s quite a bit older having nothing in common.” I’m sure you’ll see what I mean. Here’s a free edit from a professional editor: “But then I realized that a 19-year-old woman and a gay guy who’s quite a bit older have nothing in common.”
This is, of course, offered in the spirit of the lecture, which I very much enjoyed. Thanks for it.
Sean
April 17th, 2006 at 4:25 pm
I enjoyed your speech. From this moment on, I’m going to write like a professional. Keep up the good work.
Chris
April 22nd, 2006 at 9:12 am
Great speech. In the spirit of the piece, the line “You might paid” is missing a word. As a professional in everything I do, I’d want to know if my writing had a typo so I could fix it.
I wish more people were professional in their jobs. The industry I work in, the software industry, is sadly rife with amateurs. I write screenplays for fun. I love writing because I love the excitement of turning my ideas into something concrete. When I write, I imagine that I’m watching the movie. Since every script is real and will be made into a movie, at least in my head, it has to be done well.
I think more people should take their jobs seriously. I don’t think that they realize how many people will be affected by their work. I think people produce something and are completely removed from the people who consume it. If Bill Gates had to watch the faces of everyone who ever struggled with a Microsoft product, they would produce much better products.
Once again, a very professional speech.
April 26th, 2006 at 7:29 am
Hi Mr. August, I am an Italian aspiring screenwriter. I loved your speech, I found it very useful and now I know the true difference between “amateur” and “professional”; finally I understood that everything I do I must do it in the best way possible.
Federico
August 21st, 2006 at 4:48 pm
I stumbled across this, and loved it.
With all the people talking in “blogs”, I wonder if that means we become a society of people who don’t know how to listen?
September 14th, 2006 at 2:59 pm
Enjoyed the speech.
But I would rather read a good story with spelling and grammatical errors, than a boring, formula-clone story professionaly written.
All too often the RULES are the end-all, be-all of the untalented. It’s something to cling to. A way to knock a better story. When I was in school, I had teachers ding my work, then passing it around because it was worth reading.
When I watch a movie, I catch a lot of the screenwriter’s misspelled words, but I won’t walk out unless the movie sucks.
February 9th, 2007 at 4:45 pm
one has to act like a professional before one is paid like one.
That explains why writers such as Joe Eszterhas, Billy Wilder and Ben Hecht were so well paid and had access to so many paid assignements: They all came from a journalist background and already spent years understanding (and practicing) the importance of:
Deadlines.
Logic.
Accuracy.
Accountability.
Consistency.
Presentation, a.k.a. “Giving a shit.”
Meeting Peer Standards.
I doubt that a script sale or option will suddenly make a person a professional. I tend to think some of the reasons for the one-hit wonders and for the massive of amount of rewriting that is done on spec scripts by script doctors (and not by the spec writer himself) is becasue the spec writer is suddenly under pressure to be professional… ie., to meet the demands of deadline.
If we want to be paid like a professioanl, we need to be treated like a professional. And we’ll only get treated the way we act.
Thanks for the article and website, John.
February 9th, 2007 at 5:23 pm
one has to act like a professional before one is paid like one.
That explains why writers such as Joe Eszterhas, Billy Wilder and Ben Hecht were so well paid and had access to so many paid assignements: They all came from a journalist background and already spent years understanding (and practicing) the importance of:
Deadlines.
Logic.
Accuracy.
Accountability.
Consistency.
Presentation, a.k.a. “Giving a shit.”
Meeting Peer Standards.
I doubt that a script sale or option will suddenly make a person a professional. I tend to think some of the reasons for the one-hit wonders and for the massive of amount of rewriting that is done on spec scripts by script doctors (and not by the spec writer himself) is becasue the spec writer is suddenly under pressure to be professional… ie., to meet the demands of a deadline.
If we want to be paid like a professional, we need to be treated like a professional. And we’ll only get treated the way we act.
Thanks for the article and website, John.
June 4th, 2007 at 4:22 pm
JUNE 4 2007
I know…it’s late. Over a year. But after reading your speech.
Thank you. John.
Thank you.
Thnak you.
Can’t talk you how many debates (not really) I had at UCLA and after,
breaking into the industry where I was the only one who stood for professionalism having nothing to do with money or getting paid for it.
Guess it’s all on the roads we choose.
So…
Thank you.
MARK
October 2nd, 2007 at 4:50 pm
Wait… in the tabloid commentary, are YOU the older gay man or is Tom Cruise? Because rest assured, he WILL ’sue you in England!’
January 26th, 2008 at 9:59 pm
Just printed out the pdf to read. Thanks.
February 24th, 2008 at 11:55 pm
I found this while searching for something else, but oh! what happy happenstance… Thanks for a great and encouraging read, John!
March 22nd, 2008 at 11:29 am
Hi!
I enjoyed reading “Professional Writing and the Rise of the Amateur” it
was very thought provoking. In the article you state:
“The barriers to entry have never been lower. You can make a short film with a $500 camera, and post it on YouTube.com, and be a worldwide sensation the next day”
I am an armchair director and it seems to me that you are almost throwing up a challenge here. I wonder if I could trouble you to elaborate more on the “$500 camera” — model/type etc. I am a complete ignoramus. Would greatly appreciate it.
John Marsden,
Chicago IL
April 16th, 2008 at 5:51 pm
Fantastic…very enjoyable to read. I am a director working in the television industry in Australia and this article reminded me of something that an aspiring young “film maker” said to me.
We were at a party talking about a short film festival we had just been to and I was asked by him what I thought of the films (of which one of his was featured). I always try to offer constructive comments so I said that I could see what each film was trying to do but I felt that the filmmakers needed to take more care in the construction.
(Basically what I was saying was that the editing was poor, the films were photographed badly and there was a complete lack of sound design, blah blah blah)
The response…
‘Well these are amateur films! That’s not fair, you’re a professional, you get paid to do this kind of stuff.”
What I liked about your article John is the idea that we are always judged. The idea of the amateur is thrown around as an excuse for poor work. Well the professional world has no excuses.
When my commercials get played on air they either work or don’t (hopefully the former). It would be great if there was a little disclaimer saying ‘Sorry, I didn’t have much time to prepare’, at the bottom of the screen. But there isn’t. Your work just sinks or swims and then you move on. But the great thing about that is you learn from it.
What this guy didn’t realize is that he had made an excuse for his work. Which meant to me that in some way he wasn’t proud of it. But he should be.
So I guess my point is that, acting professional actually helps you in your career as an aspiring (insert profession here). It means that at the end of the job you can say that you did your best.
Which is all you can do.
Keep it up John.
Oliver