Since I wrote Writing That Sitcom ten years ago, there have been a lot more script competitions. To many, they seem like the only way in. I’m concerned that people can get hooked on trying to win script competitions rather than trying to improve as a writer, or trying to get into the industry. Anyway, hopefully there’s something here of value.
I’d also love to know what you think about script competitions. Do they overpromise? Do they help because they give you a deadline? Is the feedback good? Does it seem like a racket? Or the only way in? Could you leave a comment?
I've never been keen on sitcom competitions, script initiatives, new writing prizes and all that. They seem an expensive way of finding talent and often don’t lead anywhere. But I've been warming, slightly, to these competitions because they at least do one thing: they encourage people to finish writing scripts. Many people respond to a deadline, and the fact there is a clear date, a prize and the promise of the script being read.
There is a downside to this. Writing a decent half hour script takes ages, as we’ve seen. Especially a pilot script for a new show. It's the kind of thing that would take me at least three weeks before I had anything I could bear to show to another human being who wasn't genetically programmed to love me unconditionally. That’s three weeks of Monday-Friday, ten til six. I can do that because it’s my job.
People entering competitions don’t have this luxury, because they’re holding down a day-job, or raising kids. Therefore, the whole process is done in evenings, or at weekends. That kind of bitty process probably lends itself to sketch writing, but not writing half hour scripts. (It normally takes me 90 minutes to really get into a script for a day.) And so writing a script this way will take months. But most people don't have this sort of time, or hear about the competition late, or don't knuckle down early enough. The script is half-baked, but sent off anyway.
This seems to be a widespread problem. At the London Comedy Writers’ Festival, Jon Plowman said “a recurring theme of the festival [was that] writers [should] think carefully before sending off a script.”
This chimes with my own experience. I meet lots of new and aspiring writers, and many of them said similar things along the lines of ‘I entered the competition, but the script was a mess. I couldn't really get the ending to work, and one of the characters wasn’t funny. But I thought I'd send it anyway’.
People say these things for all kinds of reasons. It might be because it’s true. They ran out of time because of other factors. It’s partly emotional insurance and a fear of failure, which is completely understandable. It's probably lack of confidence too, along the lines of 'I have no idea what works, so I may have written something good without realising it.' But let's be honest about this. It seems unlikely that a script that even you think isn't working would do well in a scriptwriting competition. So why send it in that state?
Given the proliferation of these competitions, it might be better to wait until the next competition comes round, as it surely will. Take that extra time to make the script good. Or really good. Put the script to one side for a month and then come back to it with fresh eyes and be brutal with it. You should be able to improve it dramatically.
Alternatively, and this is the advice of my friend Dave Cohen, use the time pressure to your advantage. Decide to make the script as good as it can possibly be in time for the deadline. Send it. And move on. Think of a new idea, so that if you get anywhere with the first script, you’ve got another idea already in its early stages. Something to talk
about in a meeting with a producer. Something that might be just what they’re looking for.
If you do write a decent script, a really decent script, you don’t need a competition to succeed. This is simply because there are hardly any decent scripts out there. At the end of his time as Head of Development at the BBC, Micheal Jacob BBC, wrote:
I must have read – taking competitions and College of Comedy applications into account – maybe 10,000 aspiring scripts or part scripts. And the depressing fact is that no more than 100 were any good. The tragedy of comedy is that many people think they can write it and hardly anyone can.
Ouch.
If you can write - and you’ve also written a superb script (not the same thing) - producers will want to meet you and stuff will happen eventually. It's all about the script. Don't sell it short. Don't let it go off half-cock.
It takes ages. Even if you're talented. And talent is fine. But there is no substitute for hard work.
Next time, we’ll look at advice from ten years ago about YouTube. (Sorry, just being honest) If you can’t wait, you can get the whole book, Writing That Sitcom, as a PDF right now here. Or the audio version here.
And you’ll find at least 14 ways of polishing a sitcom script here:
Script Competitions