Quitting, and the age question
I know the ultimate answer to every quitting question tends to veer towards, “If you can quit it then it wasn’t meant to be.” But I think there are many people out there who have yet to find some singular passion. The best I’ve been able to muster is finding things I really enjoy doing and I’m 40.
Which brings me back to your opinion on quitting writing. Or should I say, quitting trying to become a paid writer. In my case I’ve been writing screenplays for about four years. None great. One almost optioned (the first, since then manager pretty much lamed out on me).
So it’s years later and I’m pretty much still at square one in terms of contacts. Age being an issue aren’t the chances seriously evaporating à la a woman over 35 trying to get pregnant? Isn’t it more a 20-something game? Am I asking too many questions?
Anyway, would love any thoughts you might have on the matter.
– marc
You should quit.
I know that’s pretty controversial advice, and I feel uncomfortable typing it. After all, this is a blog about the wonders and challenges of screenwriting, full of hope and sunshine except for off days when I rip on Parade magazine.
But there’s hope, and there’s false hope. And the latter is harmful. It keeps people locked in a cycle of unmet expectation, passing up other opportunities in pursuit of an elusive, often impossible dream. So I want to be honest with you, and explain how I came up with my answer.
Let’s start with the positives, and address your age concern. Apparently, the median age of a new WGA member is about 35, which means there are plenty of screenwriters just getting started in their late-30’s and early 40’s. You’re not too late by any means.
Also, you’ve only been doing this for four years — it took me longer than that to get Go made. Granted, they were a very different four years of my life. They were Ramen years, when I slept on the floor of a studio apartment and abused my student ID for discount movie tickets. Striving and struggling is exciting — romantic, even — in your 20’s. You hit 30, then 40, and the appeal fades. Particularly if what you’re striving and struggling for isn’t your singular passion.
That’s the heart of the age question: It’s not harder for an older writer to start. It’s just easier to quit.
I often fall back on my basketball analogy, but forgive me if I dust it off again. It’s relevant.
Let’s say you’re good at basketball. In fact, of all the people you play with, you’re the best. Should you pursue a career in it? Let’s assume you’re willing to do the hard work — you’ll train every day, work with coaches on specific skills, and do everything in your power to make it. What are the odds you’ll end up in the NBA?
The answer has a lot to do with where you’re at in your life. If you’re 18, maybe. If you’re 38, no. That’s not ageism. That’s just reflecting the fact that most basketball careers are established in their 20’s (or earlier). That’s when your natural talents are developed enough that it’s obvious whether you’re cut out for it. You may become a better basketball player in your 30’s, but you won’t suddenly become one when you weren’t before.
While there are limits to the analogy,1 a good writer is like a good basketball player in that there’s some inherent and unobtainable aptitude required. Either you’re good at it, or you’re not, and no workshop is going to change that. Until my senior year of high school, I didn’t know screenwriting existed, but I always knew I would be a writer. It was the one thing I could consistently do better than my peers, and once I recognized that, I ran with it.
The weird thing with screenwriting is that many people try their hand at it without any prior background (or demonstrable skill) in writing. They see writing movies as being akin to watching movies. Here the basketball analogy holds up: being a fan of the Pistons doesn’t mean you can play for the Pistons.2
Coming back to you, Marc, if you’ve been trying for a couple of years, and have started to seriously question whether you’re cut out for it (”none great”), maybe it’s time to look for another field. I think you wrote in asking permission to quit considering yourself an aspiring screenwriter. You have my blessing.
But keep in mind: I may be completely wrong, and you may be deluded. Here are some signs that you should ignore my advice and keep at it:
- Smart people genuinely love your scripts, and want to keep talking about them after the obligatory period has passed.
- You can pull one of your older scripts off the shelf, reading it for the first time in years, and be more impressed than embarrassed.
- At least once a week, you write something that sends you to bed happy.
None of these are guarantees that you’re going to make it as a screenwriter. But they’re indications that writing (of some form) is probably a net positive in your life, so don’t stop doing just because I told you to quit.
- Most notably, basketball has many purely quantitative measurements to let you compare yourself to your peers, while screenwriting is fundamentally qualitative. “Number of produced credits” reflects a combination of consensus opinion and good fortune. ↩
- I chose that team at random. I don’t follow the game at all, which makes it awkward to use basketball in this analogy. But I’m sticking with it. ↩
Articles
September 12th, 2007 at 3:26 am
You realize you’ve lost 60% of your potential readers with that one?
September 12th, 2007 at 4:14 am
Your answer to this question is the best I’ve ever read. A good compromise between the blind hope that is often false and the hard-assed stance of “If you can quit, you should, period.”
P.S. Obligatory typo: “Either you’re good at it, or your not…”
September 12th, 2007 at 4:40 am
“Either you’re good at it, or your not.”
Shouldn’t the your also be you’re?
September 12th, 2007 at 5:23 am
Mark and Eric S:
Yes, thank you, and fixed. That’s the danger of blogging at 12:30 a.m.
September 12th, 2007 at 5:54 am
Maybe Marc could switch mediums? Screen writing may not be his forte but perhaps one of those good-not-great screenplays could be a great novel. The best part of being a novelist is, there’s no age limit. A first time novelist could be 18 or 80, so long as the book is good someone will publish it. It may not let you quit your day job but it still fulfills that need to write and is very satisfying.
September 12th, 2007 at 5:56 am
Who gives a shit how old you are? It’s not like you pencil in your age on the title page of every script you submit. Hollywood knows nothing, so if they see a potential “hit” or project worth optioning, buying or developing, they will write the check regardless of how old the screenwriter is.
It’s all about the MONEY and cash is not age specific. Heck, it isn’t even about the talent anymore… look at what is currently clogging your local metroplex.
NEVER give up if writing is what you want to do. Flash that raised middle fickle finger of fate to anybody who says otherwise.
Even John.
Thank you, I am probably now banned heh
September 12th, 2007 at 6:08 am
One more way that the analogy fails is that if you are 40 and have never written a screenplay, it does not mean that you can never do it. It just means that it may be another 10 years before you write something that is any good, assuming that it takes 10 years on average to get good, all other things being equal. If you are 40 and have never played basketball, it is pretty much a lock that you will never play for the Pistons. So, while I was happily surprised to see you tell someone to quit (gives integrity to those pep-talkie entries you more commonly write), age is not a determining factor unless the commonly-held belief in Hollywood makes it so. In this way, I think you did not answer Marc’s question. So, for his benefit, I restate it: If one has not succeeded as a screenwriter before reaching 40 (regardless of the age when one started), should one quit? Assume sufficient talent. Proust was 42 when the first volume of Rememberance of Things Past was first published. Is there a 42-year old with his/her first produced screenplay in the history of Hollywood? Or does the wrinkled ceiling stop someone from rising?
September 12th, 2007 at 6:17 am
Wow.
I don’t know whether to say “Woohoo!” or cry. I think the former. :)
Good thing, because the only thing I’m good in in basketball is fouling.
September 12th, 2007 at 7:09 am
“Smart people genuinely love your scripts, and want to keep talking about them after the obligatory period has passed.”
Can I count myself as a smart person?
“You can pull one of your older scripts off the shelf, reading it for the first time in years, and be more impressed than embarrassed.”
I need to write more older scripts, then.
“At least once a week, you write something that sends you to bed happy.”
If I write “LUV U” on my cellphone and send it to my girlfriend, and it makes me happy, I still doesn’t have to quit screenwriting, right?
September 12th, 2007 at 7:30 am
I asked Christopher Lockhart about this before he stopped his blog and he said if a fat, fifty-year-old female wrote a great script, it’s a great script – he’s not going to care about her stats. He said age is an excuse.
September 12th, 2007 at 7:42 am
I agree with John on the point that simply because you have watched movies doesn’t mean you can write for film.
There’s a little thing called talent that comes into play.
I like the ‘90 mph fastball’ analogy myself. I heard a screenwriter use it recently in an interview. He equated throwing the heat to being able to write a successful screenplay. Not everyone can throw a ‘90 mph fastball.’ Yeah, you might lose some of your ’stuff’ as you get older, but that’s when you begin using different pitches to get the ball past the batter. And that approach could be more interesting than firing the heat directly over the plate all the time.
But how do you know if you can throw the ‘heat’ or not if you don’t try?
Gee, I hope this doesn’t become a White Men Can’t Jump/Bull Durham thread…?
September 12th, 2007 at 8:48 am
Your advice was perfect… the subtext was simple… if you don’t believe in yourself enough or excited about your work, how do you expect others to feel that?
If you even have to ask if you should quit, then quit.
September 12th, 2007 at 8:53 am
Nice post John, I wrote a follow up on my blog . . .
September 12th, 2007 at 8:55 am
Great question and fascinating answer. I’m 41, just, and I will never quit. I’m a damn good writer, if only to myself, and I will continue to write until I drop. Quitting for me is just not an option. What else would I do? I’ve got editing work to pay me, but I need to write. Friends will tell you about my infamously huge emails, worse than David O. Selznick’s endless shower of memos. It is invigorating for the mind and soul to write, to conjur, to spin tales. Marc, keep writing. If you can’t get a film made, then that’s the industry’s loss, they will continue the downward spiral of pouring millions into making disposable entertainment without you. Just keep writing. Time is irrelevant. Don’t worry about age. You can’t get a facelift on your talent.
“It is wonderful to create.” – Akira Kurosawa
September 12th, 2007 at 9:03 am
Well, as a person looking for his first saleoptionassignment, I would say “the fewer the better.” As a person who feels that no one should give up what they love, I’d say “stick around, what have you got to lose.” But then only you know if you really love this or you just want “money for nothing.” This is the worse thing to pursue for money and glamour, it’s got to be for the images and words, screw the big pay check.
I think that’s most people’s problem, they try to hit one out of the park instead of throwing a few people in a room and watching the sparks fly dramatically or comedically(yes I made that up).
Remember that getting $20K still gets you a credit. And a few months to not do another job.
September 12th, 2007 at 9:18 am
Marc might be better off giving up on the dream of becoming a professional screenwriter, but if he really enjoys it he should continue screenwriting. In a sense, it is like basketball or baseball. Even if a person isn’t good enough to play in the NBA or Major League, they can still get a tremendous amount of pleasure playing in a rec league. Like Marc, I’m just over 40. It took me a while, but I learned that a person should do something simply because they enjoy the activity itself, not because of some external goal.
September 12th, 2007 at 10:09 am
I find the reactions interesting – some people agreeing with John and others encouraging Marc to continue writing. I think that the latter are actually trying to reassure themselves to continue writing rather than Marc since they’ve told him tell him that if he’s talented enough and passionate enough, he should continue as age isn’t a factor when it comes to writing a great screenplay. I completely agree with that. But Marc’s already stated that he’s a good but not great writer, has few contacts, and enjoys writing but is not passionate about it. Even most talented, passionate, and/or well connected screenwriters will have a challenge building a career let alone those less so. If he enjoys writing, he should continue to do so but maybe look into other venues such as writing a local column and working on a novel as Keith suggested, and try to build a career or sideline as a writer, although not necessarily a screenwriter. Writing doesn’t have to be an all or nothing proposition. And I don’t think that it has anything to do with age but rather with talent. If you’re not talented, no matter how much you write, you’ll never be great. And in order to make a career as a screenwriter, you either need to be well connected or a great writer for your work to stand out and be noticed. I’m not saying this to discourage Marc but it is something that we all need to honestly consider when deciding to pursue a career as a screenwriter.
September 12th, 2007 at 10:10 am
Great blog entry, and good advice. I’m 37 and just learning to be a screenwriter. But, like John, I’ve known since I was 5 that I’d be a writer. It wasn’t until I actually looked at a screenplay a couple years ago that it occurred to me to actually write one. But, I quickly learned I didn’t know a damn thing about writing screenplays, so now I’m learning how. Sometimes I wish I could quit. My life is busy enough as it is without having to cram in writing time. But, I’m a writer, so that’s what I do.
September 12th, 2007 at 10:19 am
At the end of the day, only Marc knows whether he’s got what it takes to go the distance. Anything less than that gut-in-the-stomach feeling that screenwriting is your calling, relegates this activity to something that you enjoy, but recognize you probably won’t be doing for a living. And four years is a short-time for getting a second career off the ground, screenwriting or not. Established writers often take much longer to get a script to the screen. Let’s be realistic.
Anton
September 12th, 2007 at 10:31 am
I just had a friendship end with someone who’d just turned 30 and who whined and whined about wanting to write but didn’t have the discipline to do so. This friend decided to quit his job at a major studio which, though a relatively lowly low-paying job, did indeed open opportunities with that studio to join their writing staff for some experience. He turned them down, then quit the studio to stay home, not even on unemployment, and write. As a writer and friend, I had to back his decision, which was very difficult because I’ve always been a disciplined writer, even writing scripts while working eighteen hour days in feature cutting rooms.
But what I believe has ended our friendship is the fact that he still has not written anything, that his plan, which I knew would be a failure, has failed. He always said, “You’ll all tell me, ‘I told you so.’” I would never say that to him; what would be the purpose? But I believe he’s cut off all communication for fear of facing me without having finished a single screenplay. I understand that that’s his problem, and not mine. But he is an example, and a very depressing one at that, of the kind of person whose dream just wasn’t big enough to alter their lives.
Talking about writing and actually writing are two different things. One is a bad habit. The other is a way of life.
And I disagree: just because a hope might never become a reality doesn’t mean it’s a “false hope.” If that were the case, all hopes would be false.
September 12th, 2007 at 10:33 am
It’s good to get a dose of realism every now and then. If Marc is sacrificing and struggling in his effort to support himself or his family as a writer, then leaving the struggle behind for greener pastures is sound advice — enjoy some comfort and financial security.
But if these aren’t issues, and there are no other consequences to continuing, why stop? Either you sell something, or you continue as you are. If you’re happy with “as you are,” then by all means, plow forward.
September 12th, 2007 at 10:49 am
Fred (#7):
I think you’re confusing product with process. One may not have written a great script, or a great novel, by the time he’s 40. Or 60. I’m certainly hoping my best work is ahead of me.
But writing is not one script, or one novel. It’s a craft. No matter what your age, if after four years of effort, you’re not reasonably talented at it, you can safely stop. Because the gift is not going to suddenly manifest.
The Other EricS (#16) and others:
You need no permission, resources or excuses to write. That’s one of the things that makes it such an amazing art form. And your analogy is apt: just because you don’t end up playing in the NBA, doesn’t mean you can’t play basketball. Getting paid for it is not the only goal — though it’s why Marc specifically wrote in.
September 12th, 2007 at 11:10 am
Exactly!
September 12th, 2007 at 1:43 pm
I am one of the “few” who liked your answer. Not because I’m over forty, I’m not even over thirty, but because this answer validates the one you gave me a few days ago, when I asked if a foreigner could make it and you said it was possible. Now I know you aren’t giving us sugar-coated, “feel happy” answers – believe in your dreams and you can do whatever you want -but honest ones. Thank you!
September 12th, 2007 at 1:49 pm
As to Matt’s baseball analogy (#11)…
I’m an old fart and I love to write. I may not be able to throw 90 mph heat, but few older pitchers can (think Maddox or Glavine). They may only hit 82-85 mph, but what they have learned is finesse. They use sliders and cutters and curve balls while picking at the corners and out thinking the hitters.
Same with older writers. We bring to the table years of life experience, knowledge, and, hopefully, skill, and these attributes are our sliders, cutters, and curve balls. In addition, if you have persistence, you will eventually out think the ‘hitters’.
Never give up and keep writing.
Regards,
September 12th, 2007 at 2:14 pm
Marc’s up in the air about this anyway, so …
It’s not your aptitude. It is your attitude, that determines your altitude.
The only thing I’d add is to lay out all those complete scripts, in order of completion.
And ask yourself, “Do they improve?”
Is there a learning curve?
If there is, I say dive in and keep going until you make a sale.
September 12th, 2007 at 2:55 pm
Marc,
If you love screenwriting and the prospect of a sale excites you, you should keep writing. Here’s what you should do:
Work hard to improve each time you sit down to write.
Read tons of screenplays–both active projects and random stuff, good and bad. Don’t just focus on reading scripts you know are awesome.
Write a lot. Finish a script, polish it, show it to whomever you can, start another one. Finish, polish, show it around, repeat. Eric Roth claims to have written thirty scripts before anything good happened for him. Allan Loeb was around for ten years before he blew up two years ago. Four years is nothing.
See tons of movies.
Write scripts you can sell to a buyer. Commercial, popular, studio-oriented stuff.
Submit your stuff to ScriptShark.com and, if it’s awesome, they’ll recognize the quality and recommend it to agents, managers and producers all over town. You don’t need to know anyone anymore.
Don’t worry about your age. I discovered a writer who was 37 at the time, got him a big manager and now he’s a millionaire, multiple major studio produced credits, and he’s one of the biggest writers in town for his particular genre. The town doesn’t really care about age–as someone said above, writers just use it as an excuse. It’s about talent and money.
September 12th, 2007 at 3:06 pm
I have been writing for 6 years now and felt the sting of rejection so many times that I was going to design an upscale line of hanging ropes so I could die with class. That was a joke.
In the last year and a half I have optioned several scripts and have sales pending. All this came about after I took charge and queried everyone I could find an email address on including CEOs, Executives, Casting Directors, Actors, Managers, Talent Agents, Production Companies and every kind of assistant. Many said no, but others said yes. Take a chance. You have nothing to loose. You don’t need a manager or agent to sell your script.
Age doesn’t mean anything to a degree. I am old enough to “Blank” rust and still get read all the time. Write a great script and sooner or later it will get noticed.
I am not a fan of script contests. While you are waiting up to a year to see the results you could have polished that script already and sent it out to managers, agents and production companies. Everyday that your material is not out making the rounds in Hollywood, 1000’s are trying to steal your dream. NEVER GIVE UP!
September 12th, 2007 at 3:11 pm
As someone who was always urged to write but got a late start, I think about this all the time. I believe the window of entry narrows sharply between 35 and 45. Yeah, you can still get in — but it’s that much harder, and it’s nigh impossible even for whippersnappers. The industry is often ageist — lots of the execs/agents are young and don’t always trust an older, new writer.
The older you get, the better you’re going to have to be. Not just good, but on a par with working professionals: pro structure, pro characterization & dialogue, pro action. You won’t have the same time to grow and mature as a writer, so you’d better debut like some magnificent unknown bastard with an undeniably great script.
Also, the older you are, the longer it may take to jumpstart a career with material that is too esoteric (readers of my last script are laughing their ASSES off at this), navel-gazing or out-of-sync with the current market.
Of course, the good thing is that, being older, you may actually have some interesting crap to write about. The bad thing is that, being older, you may now enjoy writing esoteric, navel-gazing and out-of-sync material. She’s a cruel world.
Marc, you didn’t ask me but my advice is to write that fifth script. I subscribe to the Five-Script theory (i.e., takes five to stop sucking). Can you write that undeniably great script with the best concept you’ve ever had? If so, do it. If it doesn’t work and you’re tired of Ramen, then quit. If it works, maybe you’ll sell it and I’ll take all that Ramen off your hands.
-Scoops
September 12th, 2007 at 3:12 pm
Damn, I mean, “but it’s that much harder, and it’s nigh impossible to begin with even for whippersnappers.”
September 12th, 2007 at 3:17 pm
John,
Your advice was especially relevant for me, since I also had to go through a period where I had to come to grips with the fact that I would never play basketball in anything other than a recreational league. Age slowed me and, at 37, I no longer have that glimmer of hope that I will someday put it all together and become that great player I always dreamed of. I still play, and there are still days, every now and then, where I have that game that makes me remember how much I love playing basketball. I’ll never earn a cent or win an Olympic medal playing basketball, but it’s still part of me.
Unfortunately writing doesn’t have that age barrier that makes one have to take a hard look at reality. You could keep deluding yourself for decades, all the while becoming more bitter and more desperate. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. A writer is what I am. And writing for movies, to me, is what I want to do most. I believe I’m a good writer, good enough that I’ve ALMOST become a working screenwriter numerous times. It’s that `almost’ that keeps me going. Had no one ever been interested in my work, I might have lost confidence.
My thinking is that if you have to ask whether you should quit or not, then you probably should.
September 12th, 2007 at 3:51 pm
I agree that there are some limits with the basketball anology. I think the difference between the best and the worse player in the NBA is much, much smaller than the difference between the best and the worst (working) screenwriters in Hollywood. The “inherent and unobtainable aptitude required” is much, much lower in screenwriting (and TV writing.) Yes, there is this minimum level of competency for screenwriters, (which most aspiring screenwriters don’t measure up to) but I think it’s a lot lower than those writers who work in Hollywood regularly would like to believe. One counter argument to this is “yes, there are talent-deprived, flash-in-the-pan writers who get lucky with a hot script and get some assigment work. But then their work fizzles out and they aren’t heard of again.” The thing is, that’s also the career path for a lot of amazing screenwriters as well. The key to working constantly is to be involved in some way with things that are successful. Easier said than done, I know and that’s why it’s crutial to be persistent. It doesn’t sound like Marc is interested in being persistent any more, which is the main reason he should stop.
September 12th, 2007 at 4:04 pm
I’ve been wrestling with the ’should I quit’ question all week, but in a slightly different way. I’m debating whether to quit my job for part time work and focus more on my screenwriting. Since finishing uni I’ve worked consistently except for a three month period. During that period I wrote a screenplay, which lots of nice people have said lots of nice things about, and it even got me some meetings with some pretty heavy hitters to want to option it. Unfortunately praise and a minimal option fee don’t exactly cover the rent, so I took a full time job, and a pretty good job at that.
I’ve always believed it would be possible for me to juggle full time work with screenwriting, but to be honest it just doesn’t work for me — by the time I get home from working on a computer all day, the last thing I feel like doing is settling down in front of my laptop. The only time I’ve been able to write was when I wasn’t working and I had that block of time.
Has anyone else jacked in a good job to really ‘go for it’, and if so, did it work for you?
September 12th, 2007 at 4:07 pm
Happy to see so many thoughtful responses in this thread.
Tom (#32):
You may be right that there’s a comparatively wide range of talent among working screenwriters — after all, you’re measuring a subjective quality. But I do think talent trumps luck in the end, particularly if you include all the aspects of screenwriting which don’t involve 12-pt. Courier, such as pitching, picking projects, and getting along with difficult people.
I think I’m a good writer, but it’s my skill at the last two that are why I have my career.
September 12th, 2007 at 8:44 pm
Great post. Based on your “signs,” I’m going to keep at it!
Thanks!
September 12th, 2007 at 8:49 pm
“Have I not said it and shall I not do it?” – Almighty God.
Be like God. Do what you said you were going to do. You started writing. Follow through.
September 13th, 2007 at 8:17 am
AJ:
I too have been grappling with this decision. I am an engineer and well, engineers aren’t supposed to write, but I’ve always loved movies and writing. So I have the well paying, stable engineering job and in some ways it cripples me because of the comfort it provides. It gives me a comfortable life where I don’t have to worry about money, however it does leave me unfulfilled and unsatisfied at the end of every day I’m not doing it for a living. I am still young, not yet 30 and all of this age talk is making me think about my life and how I want to live it.
So, I too am looking for advice. I would love to give up my day job and move to LA while I can still handle eating ramen everyday and sleeping on the floor of a studio. If you really go for it, let me know, because I could use the encouragement. Extracting myself from my extra smart, nerdy co-workers is harder than it seems.
September 13th, 2007 at 9:53 am
KS, I lived on boullion cubes when I first moved to LA, and there were parti-colored mice and swarms of roaches in my apartment on Gower Street. It isn’t that bad, you can do it. But engineers can write, if it’s something you love to do. Do it. I like that you are willing to give up a good job for your passion, but I think starvation isn’t necessary for good writing, or writing in general. I understand the “crippling” aspect of a steady job, but that’s not going to keep you from dreaming. I would love to have had a good job when I first moved here. As noted above, there is NOTHING romantic about being a starving artist. I was working in movie theatres, trying to make a short film at Los Angeles Community College, and thin and scared and broke. From where I am now, I look back on that almost as if watching someone else; I can hardly believe that was me, that I lived in those conditions for so long.
My scripts have nothing to do with starving or mice or roaches or drug deals beneath my apartment window or crazy whores rattling my door at night, so those experiences added nothing to my writing skills.
Work, write and move to LA if you wish, but keep the money coming in. I would be a lot further along now if I’d not had to struggle so to survive.
Hope that helps! :)
September 13th, 2007 at 9:57 am
Speaking of pitching projects and getting along with difficult people, Bob Odenkirk recently put this up on SuperDeluxe, as a sort of response to those people ragging on him for the Brothers Solomon flop:
http://www.superdeluxe.com/sd/contentDetail.do?id=D81F2344BF5AC7BBE0F92E96F948BA7860E34B33C87AA3F3
Sorry if this isn’t thread-appropriate, feel free to not approve in that case, just thought I’d share.
September 13th, 2007 at 10:06 am
KS,
If you have no kids, no real ties (wife, significant other etc), no student loan you have to pay off, what exactly is stopping you from packing up everything and moving to LA? Do you really want to be almost 40, with a wife and kids (or reasonable facsimile), and realizing that you’re miserable and regret not taking a shot when you were free enough not to?
The worst thing that could happen is you fail and you have to go back to your old life. At least you know you tried. I’ve seen to many friends and acquaintances realize, sometime in their thirties, that they aren’t doing what they want with their life. When you’ve got a wife, kids and a mortgage, it’s a lot more difficult to make life changes.
September 13th, 2007 at 10:27 am
Most of this seems to be, at its root, about making money. Being able to deliver what the marketplace requires is certainly a talent. Being able to make piles of cash in the film industry is, surely, a great skill only a few bullshitters are blessed with.
I live far away from LA right now. Trust me: whatever we try to leave behind will most likely be forgotten. Your idea of “talent” will be replaced with another idea of “talent.”
What’s important?
People achieve great things through constructive encouragement. Writing “you should quit” to that guy is a mark you’ll never be able to undo. Is it really worth it? Isn’t there a better way–a smarter way? I think Terry Rossio and Ted Elliot did a better job in their column “Never Wait,” frankly.
I also want to say that I love all of John’s movies and am looking forward to “The Nines!”
September 13th, 2007 at 12:32 pm
AJ and KS:
A year ago, I left a $420K salary to write full-time… for $0. Crazy? Definitely. Regret it? Not on your life.
Before I give any advice, I’ll point out that I’m female; my husband can support the family and provide necessary benefits; my student loans are paid off; and with two little kids I won’t be uprooting to L.A. on a whim. That said, jumping off this cliff is not without cost: not only did I give up my paycheck (our greatest source of income), I shell out every week to have childcare several hours a day so that I can go to a coffee shop and give this thing a shot. And no one’s ever given us a dime, so we’ve changed the way we live our life, but that was to be expected.
Because you asked, here’s my advice:
If you can, do it.
Are you going to chuck your children’s health insurance and college education? Of course you’re not. But if you can, do it. Since I was little, I have known I would be a writer. If I hadn’t chickened out for about a 3-year span in my early 20’s, when I panicked about making a living, I wouldn’t have set myself back a decade until I could pay off six-figure loans and go right back to where I left off. Greeting Hollywood at 27 instead of 37 would have been nice. But that wasn’t how life played out.
What pushed me into action was this: I didn’t want to die haven’t spent my whole life claiming, “But I’m really a writer!” I don’t want to be that person. There simply seems so little dignity in believing we can be one thing, yet spending the one life we have… NOT TRYING TO BECOME IT. And like you, I just couldn’t pull those 80-hour weeks, in front of a computer, come home, fire up the laptop (not to mention how life changed when I became a mother), and kick out anything decent on a few hours’ sleep. Did I have the fire for it? I did. But the body is not a limitless thing, and at some point the mind gives into it.
Today, I’m happier than at any point I can remember. I have become that person who knows what her dream is (not a small thing in itself) and does something about it. Someone true to herself, and not to what other people say that she “should” do. Someone who sets a mindful example for her children — that creative pursuits are not for other people just because they’re risky, and that they can go for it. Someone who may “fail,” but who won’t come to the end with one foot in the grave wondering what life would have been like had she tried. For these reasons alone — and I haven’t even touched on the substance of writing yet — I am a far happier person, far more comfortable in my own skin, than I ever was before. Believe it or not, friends even find me “inspirational.” And no one ever said that when I was making $420K.
So what else do I have to show for it? Some great stories… typed out. Personal reward, in creating stories that are meant to contribute to a thinking society. One completed feature-length screenplay, and a second I’ll have polished by the end of the month. One short on its way to production. Some amazing new friendships. $1,000 I won in a contest (so trivial compared to what I’ve invested that I wanted to frame the check, but my Scottish husband is way too quick). Wins in the first film festivals I ever entered. Attendance at those festivals, as an award-winner. First Place in a writing contest that drew over 3,000 entries, which in turn sent me to L.A. for 12 back-to-back industry meetings. People in L.A. who await my next script, and one who’d love to see a total overhaul of the one that got me there in the first place. Am I going anywhere? Who knows. Maybe not. But now, at least, it’s ever-so-slightly possible.
My last piece of advice is the kind of advice that’s so earth-shattering, so revelatory, you just can’t believe anyone would give it away for free. (That’s the kind of love I bring to John August’s website.) Whatever you do — whether you quit, don’t, or something in between — whatever you do, for the love of God, don’t — under any circumstances — don’t! — write a heavy drama. If I had a dollar for every industry person who told me “Hollywood isn’t buying dramas from new writers today,” I’d have enough to cover the engraved announcements I plan to send to every player in the industry when someday I’m nominated for my Oscar.
For that drama, of course.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve performed my writerly duty of procrastination, and now I’m off to work on my comedy.
September 14th, 2007 at 4:25 am
Not sure I agree with the innate talent thing; I think it’s something we all possess to a degree. The brain is just like the rest of your body in that the more you exercise it the stronger it can get, and the muscles therein can be all sorts of things including imagination, the ability to tell a story as well as a grasp of language. However, if someone is asking that sort of question maybe they don’t possess the sheer pig-headed bloody-minded stubbornness that often differentiates a professional writer from someone who is playing at writing.
Interesting blog.
September 14th, 2007 at 9:42 am
I think there are two sorts of screenwriter -
A screenwriter who learns the ‘craft’ and can crank out a decent screenplay. Period. It won’t win any awards, it wont become the film that truly touches you in some way, but it’s workable, enjoyable and does basically what it says on the tin, which in my opinion, is boring. But having said that, people make careers out of it. This stuff can be taught and learned.
The other type of screenwriter also knows the ‘craft’. But depending on what stories they choose to tell and how they tell them, their work rises above the norm, touches us emotionally and leaves a mark somehow that we remember. This is something you can’t teach. It’s the stuff that wins all the awards and is usually the films we all remember forever for their emotional impact rather than their body count. Body count is fine if you like that sort of thing but I can’t remember a film that was out and out like that and won anything. ‘Rambo V’ isn’t going to win the Oscar but someone had to write it. So hooray for these guys and gals, they make life a little less shitty and I am sorry but you can’t learn this in any book. From some of the work I’ve seen professionally, you can even suck and still cash cheques.
So in answer to the question, I think you can make a living at this and if after 4 years you haven’t had an option and feel like giving up, then go ahead. Four years is not a long time to be a writer and learn much. It’s not like being a doctor, there’s no time limit where they shove you out the door and say you’re qualified to stick your hands in someone’s chest cavity! But if you feel like giving in, then do so. It’s less for me to read :)
Oh and here’s a thing. I just read a script by a 25 year old guy that floored me. So anyone who says you need to be older or have a vast quantity of life experience to write is talking bull. As long as you have some life experience to draw on, then go for it.
September 14th, 2007 at 11:03 am
How much actual time did you write for the four years? If you were hitting it everyday, then maybe you’re a slow learner, big whoop. Maybe you should study scripts more and think about what the public wants when you write. I’ve skipped projects because they were dear to me, but I don’t know how many people would be interested.
Another thing – yeah, you’re maybe too old to move to L.A. and start doing dinky little jobs with the hope of meeting someone who will one day produce your script, but not old enough to write. Noone sees that on your cover page. Me? I’d personally rather hear from older people, 20 Y.O.’s generally don’t know squat about life and its challenges…
September 14th, 2007 at 3:07 pm
Thanks Carole! It was nice to hear a woman’s point of view, as the basketball/baseball analogies ran on a bit(sorry guys). I was beginning to wonder if the question was not “Should I quit b/c I am too old?” but “Should I quit b/c I am too female?”.
To ks: It’s hard to leave a 6 figure income and a comfortable life to live on less and sacrifice for your craft. For myself, as much as I have always wanted to write, I could not make this gut-wrenching decision in my 20’s and 30’s. Yeah, I did’t have children or a husband to uproot but it was still a difficult decision to make. In fact, I think my relatives would have tried to have me committed if I had chucked my job and moved to L.A. to write. Eventually, I didn’t leave my comfortable career/profession, it left me. Due to a disability, I now have all this time on my hands, which it appears is ideal for a writer(irony?). So I moved to L.A.
To Mike: You said “Four years is not a long time to be a writer and learn much. It’s not like being a doctor, there’s no time limit where they shove you out the door and say you’re qualified to stick your hands in someone’s chest cavity!” True. Medicine is really all about hands on and trial and error, so time-limits are built in to the equation. Also, medicine is very objective while writing( an art-form)is very subjective,thus, any comparison is tough. Mark: If its of any comfort to you, I said “I quit” everyday for some 20 years of a successful medical career. As they were “shoving me out the door” to put my hands God knows where, I was always thinking, “I’d rather be writing movies”. Now at 42, I am writing daily and it’s the best feeling ever!
To Adam: I agree. Believe God!!!
To all: I still have some great Ramen noodle recipes that I’m dusting off.
September 14th, 2007 at 7:41 pm
Great discussion–thanks, all!
As a woman in her early 40s who “always knew” I’d be a writer but spent lots of time trying not to be and thinking the lawyerly arts would get me through, I was particularly inspired by Carol the Waitress’ comments. Having two kids has helped me see the truth of my life, which is “your kids are always watching.” I tell myself this whenever I face a difficult choice (or when the easy choice is not the right one). Do I want my kids to think that age (or fear) is sufficient reason not to do what they most want to do?
Nah.
September 15th, 2007 at 8:28 am
Well, I’m 41 – two screenplays written, but nothing near Hollywood expectations.
For every one thing that I can relate too in the writing profession there’s one thing that passes me by.
I don’t think I could make the 5-10 year committment in LA, however, I could continue making 6 month to 1 year committments until I either make it or decide enough is enough.
D.
September 15th, 2007 at 2:29 pm
I’ve got to side with John on this one. With all the caveats (I could be wrong, etc) I agree that this particular writer should quit because he doesn’t have the requisite passion to make it in what really is a very tough business. That doesn’t mean every 40 year old should quit. After all, William Monahan, who won the Oscar for The Departed, had his first produced film released when he was 45. But, Monahan had a successful career as a journalist before he became a screenwriter. He had both the talent and the ability to figure out how to make it in not one, but two, highly demanding fields. Signs that Marc is probably no Monahan are:
This isn’t his passion. (”The best I’ve been able to muster is finding things I really enjoy doing and I’m 40″). This is a tough business. Without passion, people are likely to give up before their success comes. Naomi Watts (the actress) or Marc Cherry (the writer and creator of Desparate Housewives) come to mind. Neither of them had easy success. It was ten years before Watts had her first big breakthrough with Mulholland Falls, and Cherry was flat broke when Desperate Housewives finally hit. What got them to the finish line (which is really just another starting line) – despite the failures and setbacks and long and winding road – was passion and it’s correllary, perseverance.
It’s four years later and he’s still “pretty much at square one in terms of contacts.” How could that be? I got my first contacts by asking everyone I know if they knew anyone who had any connections to the film business whatsoever. I had a college friend had a childhood friend who was an extras casting director. Extras casting directors are not known for launching writers careers, but you know what, she knew a producer who read my screenplay, loved the writing, and, when I finally figured out that I needed an agent above all else, introduced me to my first agent, who helped me get my first writing assignments and many more contacts. Before all that happened, I also wrote a blind letter to a former studio head who I read about in Variety. He was then heading a production company. He invited me in for a meeting – not because he liked my screenplay (he hadn’t read it), but because I wrote a killer letter that got his attention. Then there are all the producers I met by attending panels and simply walking up to them. So not sure how you’d end up with no new contacts after four years unless you aren’t trying very hard or unless your writing sucks. The old adage “where there’s a will there’s a way” applies.
He asks John if he should quit. How would John know? John doesn’t even know him. My question for Marc is “Do you think you should quit?” If his answer is, “I don’t know,” then I’d suggest that he make it his goal to figure out his own answer to that question instead of expecting a stranger to have his answers. He might start by asking himself what else he would “enjoy”. If any of these things are easier goals to acheive than successful screenwriter then he should focus on one of those goals. He might also take tests designed to help him identify his interests and aptitudes (the MAPP personal assessment test comes to mind because it pinpoints not only what you’re good at but what you’re motivated to actually do. My guess is that Marc isn’t sufficiently motivated to be a screenwriter but he may be sufficiently motivated to do something else. By giving up his half-hearted dream he might actually find a deeply satisfying life. Everyone’s not going to be a successful screenwriter and there’s no shame in that.
I should also say in the interset of full disclosure that after some initial successes, my own screenwriting career crashed and burned (in part because I didn’t know what I was doing as regards all the non-writing skills that John alluded to, and in part because I was sidelined by an illness. In a low moment, I too asked myself if I should quit. I quickly realized that there was nothing else I could do that would even remotely make me happy. I could have practiced law (I have an ivory league law degree), I could have gone into academia, I could have gone back to school and become a therapist. I could have written a novel. Any of these could have made for a satisfying life (especially if I supplemented them by pursuing hobbies or focusing on family life), but being a screenwriter is a great passion and I wasn’t willing to give up just because times got hard. So…I set about learning from my mistakes and studying the ingredients that led to others’ success, I shored up my weaknesses as a writer and wrote a new screenplay that reflects both my natural talents and my new and improved skills, and I’m now about to embark upon my second act (wish me luck!). Assuming a certain level of talent (and it doesn’t have to be stratespheric), you can succeed at almost any careers (ballerina and pro athlete excepted), at whatever age, even if it’s hard. But you have to want it.
Hope some of this is helpful, Marc.
September 15th, 2007 at 7:40 pm
dgm: From one lawyer with two kids to another, I couldn’t have said it better myself. Truly.
Paula: Excellent comments, and best of luck with the new script!
All: Great discussion. We should thank Marc for igniting it.
Marc: Once you decide what direction to go — whatever it may be — EMBRACE it. If you give your absolute all to that next screenplay, it will smell like the real thing when you’re ready to market it. And lastly (you already know this, but I’m going to say it anyway): be sure to bury your “none great” opinion at the door, and never utter those words again. Your secret will be safe in the John August archives.
September 15th, 2007 at 8:24 pm
you people are all self important and self involved. get involved in life and stop acting as if you’re the answer. do domething important in life like love msomeone unconditionally.
John knows this, he waas very lucky. that’s all.
September 16th, 2007 at 8:25 am
Here’s a question. How come so many lawyers seem to end up as screenwriters? :D
September 19th, 2007 at 12:53 am
Mark,
Piss or get off the pot…just kidding. If it’s truly your life’s passion, you can’t quit even if you want to…so, suck it up and write another script. :)
Cheers, Henrietta Humpinstead
September 20th, 2007 at 2:10 pm
There are two things at play here that seem to be flying past most of the responses I’ve read.
1) You get to define your level of success. That’s true in anything. Most people don’t seem to do so before starting their journey, though, which is odd. How do you know when you’ve succeeded if you don’t define that for yourself? Do you want to be happy writing? Publish? Sell a script? Sell a million-dollar script? Be the best writer of the 21st century? It’s all in your personal goal.
2) John mentioned this and it keeps getting glossed over: It’s not about age. It’s about artistic-age. I had a friend who trained to play percussion for ten years and was no better than when he started. This is where art meets craft. Sometimes you just don’t have it in you. He could train for 30 or 40 years (like I could train to paint for that long) and still not have rhythm (or the ability to paint simple objects).
And I would say that Marc isn’t the only one that knows whether he can make it or not. He doesn’t know at all. Because he’s not the only one involved in the process of selling his stuff. My friend the drummer thought he was great, yet was unable to keep a steady beat. There’s a certain amount of personal ego that needs to be tempered by outside opinion. John’s advice stands as about as solid as possible. Give up unless you just want to do it for fun, see outside, genuine praise, or have indications that you are improving.
September 21st, 2007 at 2:29 am
Go was awesome. That says it all.
September 21st, 2007 at 2:07 pm
Marc wrote back in, but had a technical snafu. This is his reply:
First, John, thank you so much for the honest, serious consideration and reply. I really appreciate your POV and comments. So many people are so full of… It’s like that quote about Hollywood being the only place you could die from encouragement. You’re honest. You’ve got nothing to gain or lose by telling me to go on or to quit and you’re a working pro who writes great stuff and I appreciate it.
I checked back for a few days and hadn’t seen my question replied to so I kind of forgot to check back. (and the stock markets been a little “volatile� Last week I lost all money, made it back, lost it, made it…hold on..I’m broke again.)
Then I saw the blog and it blew my mind. All the feedback was great. Point is I didn’t mean to be remiss in replying. It means a lot that you took the time to do so. And thank you all who commented.
Side note: 10yrs ago never could have an accomplished pro give someone like me feedback and have a community interact. Internet. Amazing stuff.
God, I am jealous of all you who have that passion. ( I do at least know obsession well. Too well. She’s a real mo’ fo.) Anyway. I really admire those who know what they love.
In a nutshell is you made me realize it’s really not the writing it’s the business of it. And you’re right about the age. When your twenty you honestly don’t know what you’re getting into. When you’re forty you tend to think more before you leap. Maybe like an old battle scarred warrior vs. a young fresh kid who’s never killed a man.
Also when you’re older you realize your time is valuable. There’s less of it and I don’t want to waste it.
One thing about the b-ball analogy was I was thinking it’ kind of like having a good player who could make the pros but not be a Jordan problem is no ones’ scouting him. Now if his uncle worked for the Lakers well then that’s another story.
I have to mention the passion again. I’m envious of those who don’t have to struggle with whether to continue because they love something so much they have no other choice. I just don’t have that luxury. Wish to god I did. If I HAD TO WRITE I’d do it til I dropped dead no problemo.
My passions…
Halo 1,2 and soon 3 Puppies Eating
Seriously, I’m passionate about helping animals but my goal isn’t to be the world’s best animal rescuer still that doesn’t mean I’ll ever quit helping.
It’s really more about the networking and the biz end of things. That’s where I think I hate going again and that’s where the age might matter. Honestly part of the reason I’m into screenwriting is because it’s a commercially viable. It’s not art for art’s sake kind of thing for me. If I could get paid as a visual artist I’d prefer it but if you think selling a script is hard selling a painting is…can you even sell them anymore?
Also, hate to disagree with the masses but I don’t think writing a GREAT SCRIPT is by any means the only way or even the most likely. The most likely? Have a decent script and a GREAT connection. Just my opinion.
I know for a fact that some of my scripts are equal to or better than many I’ve read and many movies I’ve seen. (John of course not included.)
So yes if you can write like Tarantino someone will buy it. But if your cousin knows someone and you can write at least as well as…hmmm. Friday the 13rth Jason takes manhattan? You can sell a script. Again just my opinion.
+Disclaimer: I’m sure many have had similar and or worse experience so you can call me a cry baby no problem.
Spent six months on rewrites while hearing how great it is and almost getting optioned and almost getting optioned, and then having the guy get fired, and then it’s just dead.
Currently spending two years trying to raise a measly 200k to shoot a horror which is at least as good as 72% of what’s on blockbuster shelves. But people would rather take me out to and tell me how rich they are and how much they love the script and want to blah, blah, blah and spend 2k on booze but ask the to put the 2k into the film? Then it’s all lawyers and money and biz plans.
Seriously, I started succeeded and failed and two small businesses in the time it takes people who said they love something to call back!!! What’s with that?
Some people here have said write a great script but would it even be recognized? Would any of the great films even be able to get made today? (I know the answer is a partial yes so that’s not entirely a rhetorical question)
sorry for rant
Michelle, “to make a career as a screenwriter, you either need to be well connected or a great writer�
I love you, took the words from my mouth. I don’t have any connections and I’m not Faulker or Kafka. (who I bet would write some really psychotic scripts.)
Kelly - “But if these aren’t issues, and there are no other consequences to continuing, why stop? Either you sell something, or you continue as you are. If you’re happy with “as you are,� then by all means, plow forward.�
Good point and I wholeheartedly agree. One thing I’ve learned is that I do like it more than I thought I did so I’m sure I’ll continue writing on some level forever it’s just a time management thing. Every minute you spend doing something you’re not doing something else so might decide to spend some it painting, walking dog, astroprojecting, working at starbucks, etc.
Tim and others with similar comment:
“My thinking is that if you have to ask whether you should quit or not, then you probably should�
If this were true I’d definitely be dead by now. I want to quit everything all the time. Nyc jew thru and thru. Quitting, bitching, and whining makes me plod on. Without it I’d lose all motivation in life. Problem is, sometimes you should quit.
Tom #32 great reply. Honest and to the point.
And John good reply to Tom.
41 john didn’t just say to quit he gave good reason and caveats as well.
42 carol you’re the exact person I’m not and I admire you. I only wish I had a dream like that. I pray I had a reason to quit my job to pursue the one thing I truly loved. Your story is inspirational and I hope you get all you wish (sounds like you’re getting there fast). Keep living the dream
44 mike.
I’m the first type except I’d be happy if I wrote Rambo that’d be awesome! (was there dialogue in that or just grunting?). I don’t want to win awards maybe a sci fi award or sexiest screenwriter over 40 but that’s it.
To those that said 4 yrs isn’t long I appreciate the reality check b/c I’ve never held a job for that long. College was four years right? I could see asking the same question about becoming a pro photographer. I also love photography and visual art and could easily see myself doing it for four years and then asking someone if I should quit because I’m not making money at it yet. To me four years seems way too long to not be making money. Oh well.
Paula,
Ironic comments. Appreciated. You focus on living a satisfying life which is basically my entire point. If there were other things I liked more I’d be doing them believe me. Until then I am still searching for a fulfilling life? Guess that’s really my passion. And Halo 3.
Also, don’t take this the wrong way but I wasn’t expecting John to be some guru on the mount. It’s because I’m taking quitting seriously and looking inward that I was seeking insight/opinions from others who have more experience in the field.
Oh yeah and I’m at square one b/c I’m lazy didn’t move to LA, I stayed home to focus on learning to write scripts first (clearly I can’t write blogs and have horrible grammar and spelling)
PS I was a therapist. Good stuff. Funny side note, I quit nyu grad school while going for a phd in psych.
Better question might have been, how do you know it’s a passion?
Thanks all!
November 18th, 2007 at 11:08 am
Love this question. Endlessly.
Natural talent helps…but give me the one who has 1 percent of it and no contacts, etc., but more passion and thick skin…and loves filling up the blank page like it was his or her last and finally realized death wish.
Story tellers — artists at their heart — regardless of the medium, have been around from day one, just like audiences.
Just like the blank pages.
I have an MFA in Screenwriting from UCLA GRAD FILM SCHOOL. A BA in dual majors of English – Creative Writing and Journalism.
Have been writing short stories since I was 19…and screenplays since 21. That’s a good 5 or 6 years before I even though about applying for film school.
Total now?
20 short stories…40 screenplays.
But I always wrote. Always. No matter what. No matter how many said no…no…no.
I wrote to get lost for awhile from what I was lost in and never knowing I didn’t have the map in the first place.
One of the many reasons I wrote.
i also wrote to get and set loose all these voices and images in my brain, heart and soul onto that blank page before I’d go crazy. I mean..really insane. It wasn’t to get an agent or get published or write to make money.
But I also started out as a reader…someone who just plain loves having stories told to him, ever since I was a kid.
And now in this new digital age…where the audience is global and very diverse and very tech, and etc., etc., etc., — guess what?
They’re still into hearing and seeing stories…no matter what the form.
Forget about the darn age thing.
And turn away from every agent assistant, reader, creative exec., etc., who tell you that you can’t do anything pass a certain age.
They’re gonna tell you it’s about the demos, the markets, the bottom lines and everything else — except the truth…
And even more so…turn away from all the advice, even mine.
Just write…put your stuff up on the web…WORLD WIDE WEB, right?
Be the soul and power God, the Universe or whatever gave you into being.
Lot of great artists, writers before you…whose work have stood the test of time and changed so many lives…died penniless…forgotten.
A lot of them were even turned into their governments’ out of others’ fear and for the almighty coins. McCarthy Era ring a bell?
That time…sure hasn’t faded away.
Write and fight the good fight. The world needs you.
Even if an agent or 18 year old demo doesn’t.
MARK11
December 31st, 2007 at 8:08 pm
The Age to Quit? Here’s a paradox– we’re essentially ageless, eternal creatures, but we do gain wisdom if we live thoughtfully. At 56, I finally have something to say. I write both from the passion to communicate and from the joy of the writing itself. I make movies in my head– in a beat up chair in a garage, in a coffee shop, in a cheap hotel– doesn’t matter. The laptop is just a net in which to catch the essential stuff in my head. Writing is always a joyous experience. Cervantes published Don Quioxte at 55. Dostoyevsky published Bros Karamazov late in life. Both had something to say. One of the problems with the movies currently is that far too many are being made by nasty children (I could name a dozen.) I think we need more older writers… with something to say.