I’m back to working my way through my book, Writing That Sitcom and I’ve jumped over a chapter about YouTube and whether you should make your own stuff. Ten years on from writing it, my advice has changed, and probably changed back again. But I don’t have time to write about that this week. If you want to read that chapter, buy the e-book here or get the audio version - which is slightly different on this chapter - here. By doing that, you also help keep this blog weekly and free. Or you could get a really handy resource at the bottom which is instant notes on your script.
In 1789, Benjamin Franklin wrote that:
‘in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.’
If you’re a screenwriter, you can add one more thing to that list: Notes.
It is fashionable for writers to laugh at notes, stupid notes and the stupid people who give you stupid notes. And it’s funny when real industry pros like Rob Long talk about it. You can read examples in his two excellent books that I highly recommend, Conversations with My Agent and Set Up, Joke, Set Up Joke. But he’s sucked up his fair share of notes in his time, and written episodes of Cheers. So he gets to talk like that.
The fact is that sometimes, you do get really silly or arbitrary notes. Writers are always swapping stories of daft notes they’ve had. It’s a way of the over-educated powerless writers asserting their intellectual superiority. I know. Pathetic, really. And although moaning about notes is fun, but it doesn’t get you anywhere.
If you’ve written a script, sent it to a producer, development executive or script editor and they want to meet up, they’re most likely going to give you notes. You’re going to have to get used to this. If you want a career as a writer, you’re going to have a lifetime of being told that what you’ve written isn’t quite right – or is way off. If you don’t want that, or can’t handle it, do something else. Farmers get crapped on. Nurses are vomited on. Writers get notes. It’s an occupational hazard.
Let’s say the producer is interested in your script and it has potential, and wants to take it to an exec, but would like you to take a look at some parts of the script first. They have notes. How to respond? How does it work?
I’ve been a script editor on several series of radio and a few series of children’s TV – and given a fair amount of notes, as well as being on the receiving end of them so I’ve seen this from both sides. We’ll get to a few specifics in a while, but first, a few general points.
Bear in Mind
You are very attached to your script. You’ve given birth to it. It may well have taken nine months and essentially feel like a child. And parents don’t take negative comments about their babies very kindly. So understand that you are an overprotective, overly sensitive person when it comes to your script. And remember that it’s not a baby – an inherently valuable being made in God’s image – it’s a script. Just a script. Words on a page. About made up people.
It’s good that you care about it. But don’t let your attachment to it blind you to its flaws. And there will be flaws. It’s not easy to hear negative comments and react rationally, but you must. I have to take a deep breath before every notes session, and prepare to suppress my rage, whilst trying to keep an open mind – even with notes on a fourth draft of a third episode of an existing TV series where, essentially, I’m winning.
It would also pay to remember that at this stage in your career, the note-giver is mostly likely vastly more experienced than you. They’ve been there, done that, and made their mistakes – and may be giving you the opportunity to learn from theirs.
Moreover, the producer or script editor wants the same thing as you: a funny show. Even better, a funny, successful show. He (or she) doesn't want to make the show worse. And he (or she - you get the idea) doesn't want you to remove good jokes. He wants you to remove bad jokes, or cut things that get in the way of the jokes. Or streamline things that are confusing. Or ensure that everyone's motivation is clear and defined. He may be wrong about some of these things, but not all of them. So assume he’s right about some of them. Maybe even most of them.
Also, the script editor or note giver is busy. They’re almost certainly working on lots of projects or have their heads in something else. They may make a mistake in their notes, or misremember something. They may forget the names of some characters or get a set piece scene the wrong way round. This may be the third script they’ve fed back on that day. Your script is not at the centre of their universe. So if the notes are a little non-sensical, or contain errors or contradictions, try cutting them some slack.
And if they don’t find a joke funny, they can't help that. They might realise that others will find it funny. Or they may have reasons for cutting it.
Remember that without notes and suggestions for improvements, your script cannot improve. And if it’s a first or second draft, there’s no way that it’s good enough or ready to be shot.
The Best Kind of Note
The best note is an articulation of an awful truth you’ve been suppressing all along. There’s been a consistent weakness in a character, a scene or story that you’ve been wilfully blind towards, and you can’t face fixing it because you’re worried it’ll mean losing a whole load of funny stuff. Well, that chick has come home to roost. Time to address that which has remained unaddressed. The consequences may not be as bad as you think. But they may be worse. Essentially, though, this note is a blessing.
The Worst Kind of Note
There are lots of worst kinds of note. (I know logically this can’t be the case. But this is notes. Logic does not apply) The very worst note is the one given by someone with nothing to say, but a desire to justify their salary. So they seize on random things in the script and undermine them. You can sometimes spot these notes because they’re just bizarre.
A Common Bad Note
A more common kind of bad note is one that appears to be about one thing, but is actually about another. This is why experienced writers advise rookies to think about ‘the note behind the note’. Sadly, the note behind the note is often ‘I hate this idea’ or ‘I wish this episode were about something else’ or ‘I’ve never liked this character’. These notes are profoundly annoying and unhelpful because they're dishonest. Worse, you can't really do anything about them.
So those are the extremes. Now, let’s have some specific Dos and Don’ts:
Do Ignore Some of the Notes
As we’ve established, not all the notes will be right or helpful. But think twice before ignoring any note completely, because there's probably something in it. If a line or moment you think works fine is questioned, maybe it doesn’t quite work fine. Take another look at it. Maybe it’s flawed in a way you and the notegiver hadn’t spotted.
Even the silliest most deranged note (like 'Hey, could the hero die on page one?') is worth considering for a moment or two. A script is a moving, mushy thing. Nothing is set in stone until it's actually broadcast and out there. At least try it their way, even if you end up switching it back.
Do Question Notes
But do it politely. A note may make no sense to you at all. It may seem strange, utterly nonsensical or wilfully negligent. Don’t rant and whine to your spouse or loved ones. It may not be a conspiracy or even a cock up. It may be something that’s been badly explained. Or even a typo. They’re easily doen. (Ha ha!)
You are more than entitled to say to the Script Editor or Producer ‘I’m confused by this note, because...’ or ‘I’m struggling with which way to go on this. We've talked about two ways and I'm still not clear why you favour the second option...’ A dialogue for clarification is fine, and may be fruitful if done with proper care and respect.
Don’t Give Notes on the Notes
If you’re emailed some notes, you don’t need to go through them all on the email and say whether you agree or disagree with them - or give the lines a backstory. I’ll go further: Don’t do that. It’s really annoying. It sounds defensive. And when you’re giving this redundant feedback, don’t simply reject notes with non-specific excuses lines like ‘You told me to cut that bit but I really like it. I don't know why. Just feels right.’ Why do you like it? Why should it be kept in? Every single line of your script needs to fight for its right to survive. You can’t keep bits in because of some non- specific affection. If you want to be a pro, act like a pro. Defend the line with a concrete reason, or cut it.
Don’t Crow
It’s quite likely that a script editor will suggest something for your first draft, that they will suggest removing after draft three. Maybe she’s forgotten that it was her idea. But then, she’s read two drafts of ten scripts since she gave that note. Cut her some slack and don’t make her feel like an idiot with a ‘Well, I only put that in because you told me to’. Grow up. And remember that when she’s dishing out extra commissions for scripts, she might remember your notes on her notes and your crowing and decide to go with someone else.
Notes can be a real blight and source of frustration, so in the next chapter, let’s look at the flipside for any potential note-givers who may happen to be reading this book.
Notes Right Now
Can I give you some notes on your script? I can do that right now because there are 14 very common problems with script, and you’ve probably got a dozen in your script. Also these notes are impersonal so they won’t be too painful. Why not get this 50-page PDF that comes with a 90 minute webinar which gives you 14 ways your script can improve?:
Getting Notes