Typos
Often neophyte writers, particularly on discussion boards, will argue at length about the necessity of following every “rule”’; how many brads to use, is it “who” or “whom”, never use VO, never use flashback, avoid ellipses…and the list goes on. The truth of the matter is that what Peter Guber once said - There are no rules in Hollywood, but break them at your own risk – is absolutely true.
I am of the opinion that pedantry kills creativity. Story is the number one most important signifier of a good script. Yes, execution is important, but the bottom line is: does this writer have a good story to tell? One the reader or exec hasn’t seen before? One that is compelling, exciting and resonant? I know, I know, that is getting old – but it is the truest thing I can ever say about writing a script that will get noticed.
Readers are very often writers themselves. Being a reader puts a writer in the catbird seat, so to speak. It also makes us tend to be cinefiles and wordfreaks. So while we might not comment on “flair gun” instead of “flare gun”, we will notice it. If errors are peppered throughout the script, the reader will begin to feel that this writer has no respect for, much less command of the language. And that makes us cranky. Readers are entrusted to be the gatekeepers. Of course, we do have rules and regulations: Be fast. Be tough. Be professional. By professional I mean it is not cool for a reader to really slam a writer. Even if the material is horrific, it’s just not done. If you want to keep your job that is. But there is definitely some wiggle room. Readers are subjective, at the end of the day. We can slant our coverage to sound encouraging and upbeat – even if it’s a pass. Or the coverage can be a bit biting if the writer has annoyed us to a great degree. Avoid annoying anyone who reads your script. A pass because the material isn’t that great or isn’t a fit for the company is nothing to be ashamed of. But you do not want a coverage circulating in the office that slams you as a writer with polite but slightly sarcastic comments about your writing skill-set. Your rep will read that coverage too. Your overall reputation will dim. When you’re just starting off, you can’t afford to go downhill in the estimation of professionals reading your work.
An insider tip: it is actually considered poor form for a reader to point out spelling or grammar mistakes in a coverage. Unless the number of mistakes warrant the mention. Many coverages include two pass/consider/recommend categories: the script – and the writer. A writer with a number of mistakes will get a pass writer – for sure. Even if the material is actually a “consider”. Why? Because the whole idea of rating the writer is a way of setting this writer aside for future consideration for other projects. A writer who has a character “slam on his breaks” is not a writer this company will consider for an assignment. Why? Because as I mentioned above, there are a whole lot of gifted writers out there who don’t have any typos in their scripts. So who would you choose to hire?
Of particular concern are the mistakes that the spell-check won’t find: Break for brake. Bizarre for bazaar. Rouge instead of rogue. Flair for flare. Now, here’s the thing: the worst kind of typo you could possibly have is the one that will make the reader or exec laugh out loud. Nothing kills a moment like a guffaw. The flair gun which titles this missive is a real example and one that gave me a much appreciated belly laugh and images of a gun shooting fabulous clothing and great shoes. But I really don’t think the writer was going for laughter in that moment.
Obviously, you want to have a perfect script. I can’t stress often enough how stiff the competition is. For every dilettante writing pretentious scripts that you sneer at, there are ten gifted writers with scripts circulating in the business right now. And they are repped and they are making deals. And if they aren’t now, they will be soon. So the bar is pretty high.
People have oft argued whether trouble with spelling and grammar is indicative of overall ineptitude with language. Not necessarily, no. But it doesn’t bode well. It’s like showing up for a job interview with a ketchup stain on your clothes. It makes you look like a schmuck. The solution is simple: get your script proofread by someone with a good eye for such things. And don’t sweat buckets if there are one or two mistakes left in anyway. We don’t care that much, we really don’t. Unless it’s clear that you don’t.
If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.
1 comment:
Thanks for posting. These stories are fantastic. Looking forward to more!
Post a Comment