John August

First Person

Amazon Studios at AFF

Film Industry, First Person, Follow Up

Amazon Studios has been a [much](http://johnaugust.com/2010/on-the-amazon-film-thing)-[discussed](http://johnaugust.com/2011/amazon-studios-now-slightly-less-terrible) [topic](http://johnaugust.com/2012/amazon-studios-and-the-free-option) on both the blog and the podcast. Last week at the Austin Film Festival, the company made a presentation explaining how they work with screenwriters.

Reader Mike attended and took notes, which he generously offered to write up.

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first personA little bit about my background: I started out working at a production company as an intern and as a reader, kept working at writing and eventually got representation from a manager and an agent. I’ve had scripts go out and I’ve done the studio water bottle tour a couple of times, but have yet to earn a single penny as a writer.

I consider myself in that grey, ugly pool of zombie writers: Part alive, but mostly dead inside.

I’m guessing the crowd ranged from people like me to those who are thinking about writing their first screenplays. I had heard a lot things about Amazon (including on the podcast), so I went in with an ass-load of skepticism along with a tiny bit of hope. Unfortunately, very little during the panel moved the skeptic needle, and it pretty much pissed all over the hope.

Again, I can only speak for myself.

First, it wasn’t really a panel. There was one Dude at a podium, so it was more like a new-hire presentation at Dundler Mifflin rather than a Q&A with a studio exec. The Dude, head of development at Amazon Studios I think, seemed nice enough and intelligent enough, but he used the phrase “I’d rather not get into the details of that” way too often for my tastes.

Bullet points:

* Writers can upload their scripts to the Amazon Studios site as a non-WGA writer, or if they are WGA they can have their rep upload.
* Once a writer uploads his script, he cannot sell his script to anyone for 45 days. Essentially a free 45-day option.
* If Amazon is interested, they will option the script for a period of 18 months for $10k.
* If that script goes into production, the writer will be paid $200k, with some other pay-outs if the film reaches certain financial milestones.
* They also have open writing assignments from time to time, and these are handled much the same way, with writers submitting their work on the website for consideration for the gig.

All of this is well and good on the surface. I am not a million-dollar-screenwriter by any stretch of the imagination, but I do have some access to the lords of Hollywood. If I didn’t have anywhere to go with my scripts, I would probably be interested in what the Dude had to say. However, once he said they have somewhere around 10,000 submissions with 22 projects in development, it doesn’t take a Harvard grad to do the math and realize your odds are just as good in the traditional studio system.

The things that I found puzzling were mainly around their development process and their overall plan.

The Dude explained their development process by talking about information studios gather from test screening and how it is used. Basically saying that once you shoot a film, you have a test screening and get feedback from the general public on what they liked and didn’t like about the story, the characters or whatever. Meaning that the problem is that the film is already shot, so there is only so much you can do to alter it.

At Amazon (wait for it) they want to get public feedback (through their website) on the script as it is being developed so they can make changes before they begin shooting. They plan on doing this through several methods. They already have comic books made from a script in development that they are asking for feedback on. They are also thinking of making short videos and other things to get parts of the script out there and gather opinions from Amazon’s customers. The writer will get this info and incorporate it as notes for rewrites. Now, the Dude did say it is up to the writer to do what he wants with these notes. You be the judge on that. On one hand, I’d like to congratulate them on thinking outside the box on development. But I see problems with this, as I’m sure you do as well.

The other problem I had was with their overall plan: There doesn’t seem to be one.

They have a first-look deal with Warner Bros., but when he was asked questions about the deal he defaulted to the “I’d rather not get into the details of that.” He was asked what type of genres or budget ranges they were looking at, and he didn’t really have an answer. I would have been more impressed if they picked a direction, like saying, “We want to provide funding for small, independent minded stories that might not get a shot in the Hollywood system,” or saying, “We are looking for big, tent-pole, event movies.”

I had other concerns, but that was pretty much the thing in a nutshell. I think it great that someone with money is jumping in, and I hope for the best, but it looks like there are problems with hair on them, and I think there are some very rough growing pains in the making.

Writing screenplays with Scrivener and iA Writer

Apps, First Person, Fountain, Highland, Screenwriting Software

A reader named Gerry wrote in to share his screenwriting workflow, which uses [Fountain](http://fountain.io) as a bridge between Scrivener, iA Writer, Dropbox and Highland.

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first person[iA Writer](http://www.iawriter.com/) is my favorite application to write in because of its minimalist UI and Focus Mode. I just wish it had features similar to [Scrivener’s](http://www.literatureandlatte.com/scrivener.php) Binder and Compile. I love the flexibility of having one scene or one sequence per document and organizing them within Scrivener’s Binder — as was [described so well](http://prolost.com/blog/2010/6/17/the-state-of-screenwriting-software.html) by Stu Maschwitz on Prolost.

Fortunately, Fountain lets me leverage both iA Writer and Scrivener.

I write scenes in iA Writer using Fountain syntax, saving them as plain text files in a [Dropbox](http://dropbox.com) folder. I can then work with them using iA Writer on a Mac, iPad, or iPhone, which is handy.

iA Writer is perfect for scenes, while Scrivener is great for the bigger script.

Because Fountain files are plain text, Scrivener is happy to handle them. I use Scrivener’s “Sync > with External Folder…” command to build a binder for the script, which maintains a link to those original files.

scrivener screenshot

(I prefer working with a minimized Scrivener UI. I “borrowed” icons from the Storyist application to customize Scrivener’s Binder.)

Meanwhile, iA Writer still sees the individual files. If I edit them, those changes appear within Scrivener after the next “Sync > with External Folder…”

iawriter screenshot

Using Scrivener’s “Compile…” command, I can then export a group of Scene and Sequence documents as a single plain text Fountain file.

With [Highland](http://quoteunquoteapps.com/highland), I can then convert that Fountain file to PDF or Final Draft.

—

Gerry’s workflow is more complicated than many screenwriters would prefer, but I like that he’s using the tools he wants for each part of the process. Rather than being boxed in by one monolithic app, he’s taking the best of various apps.

With Fountain, we’ve worked hard to keep the format as agnostic as possible. Scrivener and iA Writer didn’t have to add support for Fountain, because they’ve always had it.

Some upcoming apps will do more with the format — using its built-in notes and sectioning, for example — but even the most basic text editors can do 90% of what you’d want.

For now, Highland helps complete the loop by letting you convert to and from Fountain easily. The free public beta is still going, so if you’re curious, by all means [try it out](http://quoteunquoteapps.com/highland).

Adam Davis, year five

First Person, Follow Up, Los Angeles

Adam Davis wrote one of the original First Person posts for the site back in 2007, when he [first moved to Los Angeles](http://johnaugust.com/2007/starting-out-in-hollywood) from Des Moines. In 2009, we checked in with him again, and found him [working as PA](http://johnaugust.com/2009/adam-davis-year-two).

At a reader’s request, I asked Adam to tell us what he’s up to now.

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first personWhen I first moved out here to pursue the writing/directing dream, I was driving on the 10, a mile from my exit in Culver City and I kept looking for the Hollywood sign in the hills. I wanted to see that piece of iconography so badly, I risked taking my eyes off the road.

That’s when I rear-ended the car in front of me.

adam davisSix years later, I see the sign every day when I drive home taking Gower. I’ve learned not to stare. Since I last checked in with you good folks, I’ve seen some great gains in my day job and my writing. The day job is a bit more tangible to brag about to my parents because it’s tough to explain that holy crap my dialogue finally doesn’t suck!

So my days have been filled with working on promotions and licensing for the newly-minted [third-top-grossing film](http://boxofficemojo.com/alltime/world/) of all time. My set PA experience has paid off handsomely as I’ve helped produce two great partner spots, one featuring the littlest Earth’s Mightiest Heroes for Target, and the other featuring a massive film set rebuild for Red Baron. I’ve been creatively working on all the toys (Hulk Hands make their triumphant return!) and am most proud of the Hot Toys line that’s coming out.

I also worked on the line of kids and young adult books that came out with the movie, using my writing skills to great effect.

But enough of that detour. Highland gets backed up around Sunset anyway.

It was after a few failed short film and music video projects that I decided to focus entirely on writing and let the directing wait. It’s much cheaper and I felt I needed to get great at one thing before moving on to another trade. I subsequently entered my “content production” phase (still ongoing). I’ve banged out four features, three original TV pilots and one children’s book — some with my writing partner, others by myself — that are ready to hit the marketplace. We’ve also outlined a few features of various budgetary levels and are planning to pen a second episode of one of our series to hopefully make it easier to sell.

It’s been a consistent workflow: finish a draft, work on a new property’s outline, go back and do a second draft…some of these things happening simultaneously. That’s one of the benefits of a writing partner. For example, I’m doing the first draft of a new feature as my writing partner fixes and polishes the last draft of our other feature’s outline. When I’m done, he’ll take the second draft and I may start work on the first draft off the outline. Or he’ll take the first stab as I cook up a new idea. This is what we’ve been doing for the past three years.

And during all this writing, I’ve been hustling as much as I can. Talking to people about the projects, getting some reads, getting great notes, revising drafts as necessary.

I’ve had some “meetings,” but not like the “Come on into Screen Gems, here’s a parking validation” type — the more casual lunch or drinks ones. The ones where I don’t have to slightly-dress-up, but I still do. What’s important is whom these meetings are with: Not the people *of* power, but the people who *will have* power.

I remember John saying something along the lines of “the group of people who are your age will rise up together, and they’ll be the ones to help you.” His version of, “Be nice to the assistant, because they’ll be running the studio one day.” Completely true. I’ve seen many of my interns go on to production companies or lit agencies, and now I’m asking them to read my stuff in the hopes they can help me. Don’t be a dick, don’t burn bridges, and be grateful for people even reading your stuff.

But the one thing I’ve learned above all is to be patient. People can take a very long time to read. We all have lives, and they’re doing a favor. I’m not owed anything, and it’s been a hard climb back up the hill after deluding myself into believing I’d be directing a feature at 23.

I sometimes curse Robert Rodriguez’s [Rebel Without a Crew](http://www.amazon.com/dp/0452271878/?tag=johnaugustcom-20) for cooking up wild dreams that I thought would be a reality. But the book did me more good than bad: It showed me a work ethic that I still strive to reach and maintain.

I’ve learned that I’ll be just like all those other hard working people that struggled for 10 years to reach their dreams, or at least the beginnings of them. But those are now the stories I’m interested in. Not about the hotshot kid who really hasn’t had enough life experience, but the Eastwoods, the Scotts, the Abrams.

And in dark moments I do occasionally entertain the doubts that I’ll never sell a script or direct. But it doesn’t stop me from trying.

Because I need the writing. Three years of consistent content production has left me unable to go without it. I get cranky when I haven’t had my fix. Me typing this is a nice bump that will get me to that next scene tomorrow after work. I’ll keep writing what I want as more genre-mashing Pirate Gladiators vs. Sunkist Sodas are bought.

I know it seems stupid in this climate, but I still believe in good, original ideas. I need to hold onto some of that naïveté I had when I was staring off into the hills, looking for that beacon of hope that fuels all out-of-town newbies. But the plastic bumper of reality that is years spent working and learning is so much more rewarding, even if it’s painful.

I’ll let you know when the next collision happens.

Is screenwriting dead?

Film Industry, First Person

On the (http://johnaugust.com/podcast), Craig and I have discussed how much the career of screenwriting has changed over the past few years, and how it’s gotten harder for many feature writers to actually make a living at it.

In episode 35, a veteran screenwriter named Biff wrote in to vent about how grim studio development had become:

> I had a president of production ask for a free rewrite before he gave it to his chairman. Not a polish. He had notes. True multi-week notes. That doesn’t strike me as a producer’s polish. That strikes me as flat-out abusive.

> Has the landscape changed that much? Has the douchiness pervaded every level of the business? Have I turned into Clint Eastwood shouting get off my lawn?

A reader named Cordy wrote in to share his experience.

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first personI’m a fairly new working writer. Screenwriting is paying my bills. I have a big-three agent, a name manager, many meetings, all the things I used to think would make it possible, if not easy, for me to have a career.

When I heard John reading Biff’s letter, my heart sank. I have to admit that I was secretly hoping you guys would be more like “Quit yer whinin’!” because then I could be stern with myself and like “Craig Mazin thinks my intensity is for shit. Win, Andrew, win!” but… this is pretty grim stuff.

I’ve seen Craig speak at the Guild, and he really inspired me to stop seeing myself as a victim of the capriciousness of people who control the pursestrings, and to try to be more upbeat and proactive about my career. So that’s cool. Not so cool is that even with my new attitude, I still run into some pretty tough roadblocks.

One example: At a pitch meeting at the studio I previously sold something to, I pitched out literally every scene, every arc, every relationship, specific jokes and set pieces, acting out whole chunks of dialog. This was for a remake of a movie that would cost the studio peanuts to make. I am not a business guy, but I think the risk level here was relatively low.
When I was finished pitching, the executive frowned at me and said “But why would people go see this movie instead of staying home? What makes this movie a big hit? You have to understand, that’s what my boss will ask me if I pitch this to him.”

So that project just died on the vine. I didn’t lose the job to anyone, they just killed it. I have struggled to frame this kind of thing for myself as an opportunity.

But I keep bumping against that executive’s question: how can I guarantee that what I’m pitching will be a big hit? I don’t think that I can, but that seems to be what people want. If I can’t magically say, “Yes, here is my crystal ball, it outperforms THE HUNGER GAMES, don’t worry about it,” they just shut me down.

It reminds me of that apocryphal story of the early days of Sony, when the Japanese executives were like, “Your problem is that you keep making bombs. From now on, we’re only going to make the hit movies.”

As a screenwriter, it feels like I am being asked to perform an impossible feat, and it’s easy to slip into bitterness.

But I don’t want to be bitter. I do want to do decent work and do okay financially and be able to support my family. Is there still a way for young screenwriters to build semi-steady careers, or is that paradigm gone forever? I know a lot of young writers in my general boat, and to be honest I think all of us are trying to get out of features and into TV.

There’s also a lot of dazed talk about how screenwriting as a job is just dead, Jim.

I don’t want to believe that. I want to believe that this thing I’ve spent my young adult life getting good at — and I am good at it — can still be made to pay a modest living if I work hard and make smart choices.

Should I act more as a “producer” of my own career? I write specs, and recently optioned some material. I am trying to get into TV.

Should I try to get involved with directors, and write him or her a project for free, in hopes that having a filmmaker attached will help? I have explored this a bit and found that there’s a roadblock here, too: directors who mean something as attachments can get brand-name writers to work for them. I know several writers, more established than I am, who are doing free work for A/B list directors right now.

There must be a way to break in to that. (I can’t believe I am scheming to do free fauxssignment work, but here I am.)

I do discuss all these things with my reps, who are smart people I trust. But I don’t think they have the answers. They just encourage me to write specs.

It seems like this seismic shift has happened so quickly and has left so many people behind that we’re all paddling frantically against the undertow.