3 Spooky Scriptwriting Short Stories

Deep from within the crypts of coffee shops, the shrill screams of scriptwriters echo around cavernous halls, unable to comprehend the ungodly terrors within these tales three. For what profession could be more utterly terrifying than that of the lonely scribe? So, fill up your chalices with special brew from your basement, sit back in your creaky armchair (then sit forward again, and then back, and so on), and prepare yourselves for a spine-chilling series of spooky short stories showing scary scriptwriters in shocking situations. Seriously...

1) P-Die-F.

“You’ve got 6 hours, Ray. Get it done, by whatever means necessary.”

Dial tone. The white glare of a laptop monitor shone across Ray’s face, as he placed his phone down by his side. Ray had been good today, eliminating all distractions so that he could finally finish off his draft in time for the producer’s arrival this evening. And finished it, he had. What he had failed to anticipate was this...

“Converting to PDF: 0%”.

47 minutes it had been doing this. Not that Ray was counting. His conveniently placed digital clock had just turned to 14:00. 6 hours to go.

Ray wasn’t resting on his laurels either. Still high from his writing work buzz, he had tried everything he could think of to get that progress bar moving. Turning the program off and on again, turning the laptop on and off again, trying different software, turning that off and on again... everything.

Needless to say, Ray was starting to get a little bit nervous. Pacing up and down his study (i.e. bedroom) and turning his back to the screen, only to spin around quickly to try and catch it out. Nothing. No progress. The clock flashed over to 15:00.

Ray started to shake, looking around his room for answer. Desperately searching. Glancing back at the clock, Ray did a double take. His terrified stare illuminated by that lava lamp he’d nicked from a car boot sale in Durham last year. 16:00.

Knowing time was no longer on his side, Ray angrily marched towards his clock and turned it away. The red digits now shining upon his back shelf. Ray paused and leaned in, seeing a familiar sight in the red light. A signed photograph of Ray with David Lynch at a Scriptwriters Award Ceremony. Suddenly, it clicked.

Ray beamed, as he sat back at his laptop, opening up an email tab. Add attachment. Send to: dlynch@twinpeaks.com. Subject: HELP ME DAVID. NEED PDF ASAP. Send.

Ray sat back in his chair, catching his breath. A wave of relief spilling over him. DING! An email response. Ray leaned forward faster than ever before in his life. His eyes widened. 4 words...

“Sorry can’t. Internet Broke.”

Ray trembled, trying to hold in the anguish. The pain. The confusion. But he could no longer, unleashing a colossal scream of pure torment. He leapt to his feet, smashing everything he could find around him. Destroying the room he’d spent years working from. Falling off the desk in the melee, the clock read 19:00. 1 hour left.

Ray grabbed his picture of David Lynch and punched it with his free hand, glass shattering everywhere. Ray shrieked in pain as a deep cut emerged on his knuckle. BEEP.

Ray froze and looked at his laptop. 1%. The number looking almost foreign to him. He held up the shattered picture frame, Lynch’s kind eyes trapped behind it, and ran another finger along the broken glass. Another cut. Another BEEP. 2%. Ray’s face filled with determination.

20:00. Knocking at the door. The voice from the phone calling out for Ray.

Alone in the destroyed room, submerged in a thick pool of scarlet blood, the laptop BEEPED a final time. 

“Converting to PDF: 100%”. “PDF Complete”.

2) Writer’s Room Doom

The studio had assembled a crack squad of up and coming writers to pen the next big Hollywood zombie movie, and locked them all into a cramped writers’ room. After exchanging pleasantries and discussing the distinct lack of food in the room, the five hopefuls got down to business, throwing ideas around and onto the white board if there was unanimous agreement. All were experts in different genres – Julia in Comedy, Harry in Romance, Bill in Action, Nancy in Sci Fi and Tiberius in Satirical Hardboiled Courtroom Steampunk Fantasy Animation.

“How about we set it in a shopping mall? There could be a sweet sequence where the zombies start bashing down the barricades, and the survivors are all like “ARRRGGGHH”, shooting their M16s at-“

“Can I stop you there, Bill?” interjected Julia. “I really think a mall is a little too cliché for a setting, unless we were doing a total parody, which I’m totally down for by the way.”
“I agree with Julia”, chimed Tiberius. Julia smiled, thanking him, before spotting Harry taking notes, muttering something about “establishing support between protagonists” under his breath.

Sensing the group turning to her for an opinion, Nancy felt the pressure to choose a side. She looked over at Bill, nodding enticingly. Trying to reel her in, Bill mouthed the word “MALL” in the most unsubtle manner possible. Nancy gulped down the lump in her throat and spoke up.

“Well... the mall could be an allegory for the rampant nature of modern consumerism?”
“Oh come on, Nancy! Not you too! We’re trying to write a new film here guys” sighed Julia.
“Yeah, but, like, a mall would be like a SICK place to hang out during the apocalypse, because there’d be loads of food and shelter and all the stuff would be free” argued Bill. 

Julia looked disbelievingly between him and Nancy, who shrugged her shoulders and nodded, now even more taken with the idea. Julia addressed the room.
“Have any of you people ever even seen a zombie movie? That’s the exact strategy the heroes always use and it NEVER WORKS”.
“I agree with Julia”, chimed Tiberius.
“Thank y- don’t keep agreeing with me for no reason Tiberius!”
“Sorry Julia. You’re absolutely right.”

The room now clearly divided, with Julia and Tiberius on one side and Bill and Nancy on the other, all eyes fell upon Harry, buried deep in note-taking. Julia snatched his notepad, much to his annoyance, and began to read aloud to the group.

“Two lonely souls, brought together by chance in confusing circumstances, only to find solace in each other’s arms. They’re forced to stick together when the other members of the group pressure them to follow their lead, establishing support between the protagonists. Things get particularly steamy when they find themselves to be the last ones left, locked in each other’s embrace as doom slowly approaches them...”

Julia looked up, noticing Nancy and Bill looking deep into each other’s eyes. She glanced down at Tiberius who gave her a creepy wink. Shuddering, she handed Harry back his notepad. With that, Bill leaned over to him, and lightly whispered one word. “Mall”. Nancy looked at Harry too, and echoed Bill’s statement. “Mall”. Slowly realising that it might be the perfect setting, Harry nodded slowly and exclaimed to himself... “Mall”.

Julia stood up, shaking her head in fear.
“No, no, no! Please God! Not the Mall!”
Tiberius stood up alongside her, resisting the urge to agree out loud. Bill, Nancy and Harry slumped out their chairs, arms outstretched towards the non-believers, groaning “Mall” over and over. Advancing like some sort of brain-dead horde.

Backed up in the corner, Tiberius and Julia held each other, accepting their grim fate. Tiberius leaned in for a kiss, but Julia punched him in the gut (at this point, it might be worth mentioning Tiberius was like 3 times older than Julia and had two glass eyes). In their final moments, the cacophony of the word “Mall” reached a dizzying crescendo as Tiberius and Julia both screamed it harmony with their aggressors.

Outside the writers’ room, a studio exec sat checking his watch. After a moment, he pulled off his shirt, revealing a McDonalds uniform. The writers’ room was in the centre of the food court at the Mall all along...

3) The Exorcism Of A Terrible Idea

A withered hand knocked three times on the door, before retreating out of the pouring rain. As the door opened, light poured out onto the doorstop, showing a haggard old man wearing a black robe. The man was Reverend Vern. In the doorway, and concerned husband and wife nodded and welcomed the mysterious man inside.

The couple led the man up the spiral staircase, stopping on the landing. Vern looked at them before looking ahead. An ominous sign before him.

“Timmys Room”. It was worse than Vern thought. The boy was too young to even know apostrophes existed. Vern nodded to the parents, who hastily retreated downstairs. Vern approached the doorway, and slowly pushed it open...

Sat in the centre of the room, wearing a dinosaur onesie, playing with his cuddly toys, was little Timmy. No more than 3 or 4 years of age. He barely noticed as Vern took a seat on a small stool, regularly used by Timmy to “reach the big toilet”.

Vern observed the boy for a moment. He seemed perfectly normal, like any other boy. Vern leaned in, ready to ask the question he had travelled miles to ask...

“Tell me about the Teen Vampire Fiction series you’re planning on starting, Teresa”.

With that the boy’s head rotated 180 degrees, meeting Vern’s gaze with piercing blue eyes. Timmy responded with a horrifically distorted blend of his youthful voice and that of middle aged woman -
“That is no business of yours, Priest! I’ve completed a treatment and a step outline for all 14 installments, and only I may see them before I give them to Hollywood!”

Vern was taken aback at the response. It was as he feared.
“Why have you chosen Timmy as a vessel to complete your mission from Hell?”
The voice rasped back, “The boy is strong! He will do well for the idea to be taken seriously!”
Vern shook his head, “Teen Vampire Fiction is a saturated market, Teresa. Leave this mortal coil peacefully, or greater powers shall have to intervene.”

Timmy’s head rotated back around rapidly, as he leapt up onto the ceiling, sticking to a poster of Phineas and Ferb. The demon spat out his tongue at Vern, taunting the old man. But the priest would not be that easily bested, and reached into his robe. Timmy tilted his head, curiously, before recoiling in pure fear, the demon within shrieking for mercy.

A copy of “STORY” by Robert McKee, held outstretched by Vern, burning the demon from within Timmy. As ghostly powers circled around the room, the old priest recited the ancient incantation...

“I cast thee out, unclean spirit, alongside all similar flimsy narratives aimed at pre-pubescent girls, straight back to the fires from which you were spawned! In the name of all that is good characterisation, efficient plotting and decent in the realm of film-making, I command you release this young innocent, and ne’er return to spread your corruption, your vile nature or your ineffective depiction of female characters. In fact, and I’m going off book here, let’s say your male characters as well. Seriously. Anyway, where was I? Oh right, yeah... BE GONE!”

With a flash, the demon was banished, and Timmy fell from the ceiling safely into the priest’s arms, who set him down in his bed before leaving the room. Now finally silent.

Leaving the house through the living room, the priest was modest as Timmy’s parents thanked him. Vern turned to leave, before stopping in his tracks. A bookshelf on the far end of the room. Vern’s face turned grim once more.

The complete Twilight series sat on the shelf. He looked at Timmy’s parents, disappointed in their lack of subtlety, before leaving for good – his faith in humanity truly shaken to the core.

James Cottle, after studying Scriptwriting for 4 years, is now an embittered real life freelance writer, and seeks to unlearn everything he knows. But he needs your help... Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc and share this blog to help spread his anarchic plight for reform amongst the writing masses.

What to Do If You're A Writer Who Isn't At London Screenwriters Festival

It’s that magical time of year where every aspiring writer worth their salt heads to our majestic capital with starry-eyed dreams of hitting the big time, making lifelong friends and pretending to know who everyone else is. Unfortunately, my doctor has advised me against salt for the better part of a year, and, like many other writers, I find myself at home like the other 362 days of this celestial cycle. However, time spared should not be time wasted, and with a clear agenda of things to be getting on with, writers can turn their “stay-at-home” festival experience into an equally productive long weekend.

1) Gratuitously Plan Your Trip to Next Year’s Festival

Most people who buy tickets to events often find that they don’t have time to sufficiently plan out their agenda before the trip comes around – that’s why my last expedition to Glastonbury Festival involved me queuing for a single portaloo for 5 whole days. Planning before you have the tickets, however, let alone before the event and its line-up are even announced, gives you infinite creative freedom in your preparation stages. With nothing else to be getting on with this year, you can make yourself to appear almost God-like in your knowledge when next year comes around.

London ain’t cheap. I’m led to believe that the Shard wasn’t actually built out of stretched cling film. Booking the best value accommodation is paramount, and you have a massive head start on getting the best of the best. Learn the intricacies of the tube and bus schedule too, making them appear with open arms before you whenever you elect to stop at a platform. Schedule definitive bathroom breaks, opportunities for wardrobe changes, brief windows for “impromptu” social interactions, EVERYTHING... Before you know it, you’ll have gained a reputation at the festival as a human encyclopaedia, or, more likely, a frightening weirdo.

2) Plot A Way to Infiltrate This Year’s Festival

If you’re already in London, then you have an unmissable opportunity here. So for some reason you weren’t able to get tickets because you didn’t have the money, or you weren’t sure if you’d be available, or a burglar broke into your house and only stole your internet router, or whatever. There’s no law against you just happening to be in the vicinity of the festival as it takes place, or even hanging around to ambush any of the famous speakers on their way back to their mode of transportation (Note to Editor: Check Laws). They may be reluctant, even scared, to give you that one on one time, but thrusting a 100 page feature script into their hands will definitely change their mind.

Maybe lurking around on the outside isn’t your bag. Maybe being carried inside of your bag and dropped near a luggage pile by a helpful minion associate is the perfect way to gain access. Alternatively, find someone’s festival schedule booklet and Tip-Ex in your name as a keynote speaker – a trick that will certainly best any door staff if 90s family comedies are to be believed. Perhaps you could try the old “ambush a staff member in a cupboard and steal their uniform” trick? It’s possible that this is all getting a bit too “illegal” for your tastes... Well, we’ve all got to do things were not proud of to get on the Ladder of Success.

3) Start Your Own Rival Scriptwriting Festival

Ok, this approach does particularly reek of “I’LL SHOW THEM”, but hear me out. The vast majority of working screenwriters statistically aren’t going to London Screenwriters Festival this year, because there’s just too many of us. Maybe this is a geographical phenomenon? Who is to say that there shouldn’t be a Scottish Highlands Screenwriters Festival or an Isle of Wight Screenwriters Festival or a John O’Groats to Land’s End Screenwriters Festival / Tour Bus? Just by not being in London, you have an opportunity to massively undercut LSF on price alone, because let’s face it, not all writers are completely loaded from birth.

Perhaps your approach could be to “go niche” and pick a specific cult genre that already has a built-in fan base. But what good is the “Steampunk-Western-RomCom-Noir Screenwriters Festival” if you have no guest speakers, I presumably hear you ask? That presents you with a number of options... Option Number 1: Find random people of the street, show them a quick PowerPoint and then dress them up as your “industry experts”. Option Number 2: Actually do some research and seek out real experts, if they exist, and then negotiate travel, accommodation, payment, blah blah blah... Or, my personal favourite, Option Number 3: Take your guest’s money and run / save it for next year’s LSF.

4) Take A Luxurious Holiday From Writing

Obviously, you’ve spent every waking hour of every waking day for the last year working hard and constantly writing, right? You haven’t been, say, scouring the internet for cat memes, cleaning your house to avoid calling it “procrastination”, out drinking with friends, watching TV, watching movies, watching YouTube, watching people in the park, aimlessly wandering around the park, wondering if there’s any point to it all, video gaming, popping out to the post office in search of excitement, gambling, more drinking with friends, calling cinema trips “research”, drinking alone, attending illegal underground cock-fighting matches, or treating yourself to expensive ready meals... have you? No? Good. Then you deserve a holiday.

Book yourself a flight to a place you’ve never heard of on the departures board, and ask the check-in girl that there aren’t any sort of wars going on there. If not, then you’re in for the holiday of a lifetime! You can relax by the beach, sip on a pina colada, stare out into- what’s that? Kathmandu doesn’t have any beaches? Well then, a sightseeing hike will definitely reinvigorate your senses, after a quick stop off at their local Subway, where- Oh. Wow, this isn’t like Stoke at all... Hmm, maybe you should have spent your time last year while you weren’t at London Screenwriters Festival planning this trip to avoid such embarrassment.

5) Write

You have a three day head start on everyone who is at the Festival right now. Use it wisely.

James Cottle, after studying Scriptwriting for 4 years, is now an embittered real life freelance writer, and seeks to unlearn everything he knows. But he needs your help... Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc and share this blog to help spread his anarchic plight for reform amongst the writing masses.

So You Just Got A Scriptwriting Degree? Here's What to Do Next...

Bottom line with this one – I’m going to be brief here. I just got a result I’m very happy with for my MA Scriptwriting Degree, and I’ve got some serious celebrating to do. But this isn’t about me. This is about those crucial next few steps into reality where you’re now playing the part of a writer full time. A writing degree is obviously a good first step towards getting an agent, securing a decent “industry” job or mildly impressing old classmates at school reunions, BUT no one ever tells you about these key life choices you’re now in the unenviable position to make.

1) Update Your Image

The real world of writers demands top designer brands, bizarrely impractical haircuts and gratuitous amounts of plastic surgery – I’m talking full Zellweger. That’s just a fact. But even though image is everything to this stylish bunch, you’ve got to stand out. You can be the one wearing old, black band t-shirts from the years before you were born, develop hair and or bald spots where no one else thought to have them, and ignore the social stigma around “not wearing deodorant”. There are simply no writers out there like this, and if you can be that person, producers and fans will flock to your doorstep, desperate to bag your first “big” idea.

2) Live Near / In Coffee Shops

Half of the old “right place / right time” phrase is apparently being in the right place. Everyone in the media business loves tea or coffee, or, like me, pretends to like them to appear impressive or to avoid a faux pas whenever “no, I don’t like tea or coffee” gets misheard to mean the opposite. So, get yourself a flat near or above or preferably inside the kitchen of one of these social hubs, and plant yourself in a corner during the day, staring at a script you finished ages ago. Guaranteed, you’ll be approached in a mere matter of years by someone who is remotely interested in investing in you, almost entirely at random. Again, this is a hot tip, so use it wisely.

3) Give Up Sustenance

What better way to motivate you to go out there and get a writing contract than the burning desire to eat?! By cutting out your regularly consumed foods and drinks one by one, it won’t be long before you have the gaunt, frail frame of a true writer. Basic healthy living becomes a reward to strive towards once you’ve “made it”, meaning your physical appearance is more indicative of your success level when you look in the mirror. If you’re wondering how living in a coffee shop and not eating is going to be possible, well, clearly you haven’t tried the food that they serve there. That stuff can be reserved for the most desperate of times.

4) Get As Many Pets As You Can, As Fast As You Can

I personally only talk to strangers on the streets who have pets with them. It’s not down to my general misanthropy not extending to animals – I just think pet owners are better conversationalists. Heck, I’m even inclined to give them more money if they ask me! That’s why you need to buy a dozen or so pets and roam the streets with them. You’ll get an awesome rep, and, before long, producers won’t even mind when you bring them all along to your high powered business meetings (in coffee shops of all places). Quick rule – the more unattractive the pet, the more attractive you and your new image will be.

5) Forget Everything You Know About Social Boundaries

Let’s face it – you’ve earned this. With nothing left to stand in your career’s way other than yourself, a degree gives you the permission to anything you can imagine, and, to a certain extent, total police immunity (DISCLAIMER: A certain extent)... Do what you got to do to get that big career break, even if it means turning up at the Head of the BBC’s estate in the dead of night and setting up camp. A restraining order is just a fancy way of saying “Hmm, I’m not quite convinced yet”. If the recognition you seek is far more public, then I wholeheartedly recommend the “Town Centre Slam Poetry / Half Naked Interpretive Dance w/ Chickens Taped to Armpits and Small Russian Baby Dressed As Liberace For A Hat” approach.

James Cottle, after studying Scriptwriting for 4 years, is now an embittered real life freelance writer, and seeks to unlearn everything he knows. But he needs your help... Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc and share this blog to help spread his anarchic plight for reform amongst the writing masses.

4 Worst Jobs Given to Characters In Awesome Fictional Universes

When we writers spend rainy Sunday afternoons developing entire universes, rather than living in our own one, the potential for stories worthy of our “To-Write” list grows exponentially. When the time comes to finally weave the narrative, we are faced with a crucial decision – what font should I write the outline in? After that, the more pertinent question arises - who is the most interesting person in this world I’ve created? An unfortunate by-product of this choice is the wealth of supporting characters, some whose existence is only actually implied, that lead hideously boring, impractical and frustrating lives. This is their story.

1) The Star Wars Universe – Bounty Hunter

Let’s dive right into the controversial end of this literary swimming pool. Yes, Boba Fett put the “oo” in “cool” and the “Fab” in his own name backwards, but did you ever stop to think that he says so little because he’s goddamn fed up with his job? 99.9% of his job is hunting down his target, a solitary person in an entire galaxy... or maybe even A DIFFERENT GALAXY! It’s the statistical equivalent of trying to find a needle in a planet made out of haystacks. Guaranteed, Boba has severe anger repression issues from the amount of times his employers have said something like “the target will be on Coruscant”, and he’s resisted punching them in the sphincter.

By the time the bounty hunter gets to the right planet, who is to say the target hasn’t already moved off world? It could be weeks or even months until they find out they were stood in the same landing terminal at one point, before the target randomly decided to “hit up Tatooine for some sick dune buggying”. Add to this the countless number of languages and currencies the different species trade in, the poor hunter would need a PhD in Universal Translation and a Doctorate in Intergalactic Exchange Rates just to make sure their employer wasn’t pulling one over one them. It’s a dark thought, but maybe the belly of the Sarlacc is a far more peaceful existence for our beloved badass.

2) Marvel Cinematic Universe – Air Traffic Controller

The argument of “not a dull moment” springs to mind, but I’d be thoroughly surprised if the officers in charge of policing the skies and keeping travel routes safe weren’t dribbling, nervous wrecks after all the Hulksh** that’s gone down in Marveltown. No one ever told Kevin Feige, head of Marvel and winner of “America’s Next Top Skyscraper Destroyer 2014”, that flying is the safest mode of travel. Granted, from what we’ve seen of DC so far, Superman’s destructive fight with Zod and Bane’s midair plane hijack / kidnap thing were pretty bad, but at least the latter had the decency to not do it over a populated area.

So after the Avengers had to deal with a S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier almost being brought down by a single explosive arrow, and a bunch of aimless cybernetic alien drones flooding in from a portal above, get this, New York, the air traffic controllers were presumably all given a week’s paid holiday to “let off some steam”. That is, until Tony Stark unleashes his Iron Legion (not a nickname for a body part), Thor takes on Dark Elves over London led by a warlord with “Keith” in his name, and S.H.I.E.L.D. decide to build more helicarriers which Captain America wholeheartedly intends to crash into one another. Sounds like a good enough excuse to bail off the planet, right? Not if you consider the air traffic controllers looking up at Kree warships over Xandar thinking the exact same thing...

3) Middle Earth – Beacon Lighter

Gondor calls Rohan for aid! We don’t know what kind of aid, all we know is there’s a fire on the hill – empty out the entire city for a mass exodus! Seriously, Minas Tirith could have just required a hand looking for a lost contact lens on their white marble floor. But nope – the watchers of the beacons have to be on hand 24/7 in case of any sort of vague emergency. Utilising a cutting edge system of lighting fires on top of freezing cold mountains (?), all that’s required is one or two blokes keeping an eye on their adjacent beacons. Forever. All alone. ON TOP OF A FREEZING COLD MOUNTAIN.

The practicalities of getting provisions to these lonely watchers aren’t half as bad as considering the potential for orc attacks, or death by hyperthermia. In fact, if an orc was to kill off the poor guards and light the fire, it could single-handedly cause confusion on a mass scale. Worse still is the potential madness the presumably nominated (because no one would volunteer) beacon lighters would have to endure, perhaps even leading to cannibalising their innocent partner. The only perk of the job? You get to be in the Return of the King’s arguably most epic scene for all of 5 seconds... Sign me up!

4) The Harry Potter Universe - CIA / FBI / MI5

You've taken your oaths, pledging full dedication to protect your country / nation, whatever it takes. Yet, you are a mere muggle, and loads of weird, unexplainable magic crap has started going down. Your bureau launches an investigation, but all of that can pretty much be erased in the blink of an eye. No matter how many "Cease and Desist" orders you distribute, you literally have NO defence against the many wizards and witches roaming around this world. A wave of their wand and you might suddenly believe that you have been, and always will be, a toaster.

Now living as a recepticle for heating bread, you return to your wife and kids after a long day at the office. Your marriage can't handle the strain any longer, and you're forced to sleep on the sofa. In the dead of night, you slip into the kitchen seeking companionship. Your wife comes downstairs the next morning to find you trying to climb inside the bread bin, yelling "THEY HAVE TO BURN"... All this because you were just doing your job, protecting your fellow man. Wizards can be assholes to muggles. Trust me. I learnt all of this stuff the hard way.

James Cottle, after studying Scriptwriting for 4 years, is now an embittered real life freelance writer, and seeks to unlearn everything he knows. But he needs your help... Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc and share this blog to help spread his anarchic plight for reform amongst the writing masses.

4 Alternative Ways to Pitch That Will Guarantee You Are Remembered

So you’ve taken my sage advice about making your physical script stand out and now, by some shocking turn of fate, you’ve been invited to pitch your idea to a panel of producers, experts and industry tag-alongs. Congratulations! But that’s enough celebrating, as everything you do from this moment forth is life / death for your script’s chances of success. Your impending audience has sat through hundreds of these pitches and now it’s your turn to step up to the plate, and I’d wager that their love for the forum has been waning exponentially. That, my associate (I’ll let you know when I consider us to be friends), is where you blow their minds...

1) Don’t Pitch, Make Them Read

What better way to convey the story in your script than to use your allotted 5 minutes to stage a dramatic reading of your best scene? Rather than forking out your hard-earned Netflix money on local “actors” though, get those producers up on their feet and channelling your characters. They’ll understand far more about your story come the end of that epic shootout scene you just made them perform with water pistols and desks for cover. And that’s the best bit – by making them do it, you’re in the Director’s chair by default, putting you in charge of the situation. They’ll like that.

You must be careful with your choice of scene though. No sense in making one of the producers reading that “it was all a dream all along” if they don’t even know what the protagonist was dreaming to make that such an amazingly original twist. Equally, the possibility that one of the panellists might be a little apprehensive about getting intimate with their colleague for the “steamy shower makeout” scene is perfectly natural. Just be sure to make them feel comfortable by closing the blinds, lighting some scented candles and playing “Careless Whisper” through that boom box you brought along.

2) Pitch in Disguise

Don’t take that the wrong way – no one really knows who you are yet. The point is why be yourself, when you could be someone better? The idea may sound a little “90s sitcom” in theory, but if no one tries it real life, then how do we know that it isn’t the greatest idea since sliced lemons? There are 3 steps to ensure complete success: 1) Research who founded the company you are pitching to, 2) Invent a distant, untraceable relative of that founder, and 3) Go nuts. You can even play the angle of coming to town for a “routine inspection”, before slipping in that the founder’s dying wish was that *INSERT YOUR IDEA HERE* be made (Note: Check the founder is dead before playing this gambit).

The elegance of this idea comes from the fact you barely need a disguise at all, providing the panel hasn’t actually met the founder’s third cousin’s husband’s nephew before. However, if you have developed a taste for the theatrical after staging those dramatic readings, then perhaps you would consider disguising yourself as your story’s protagonist, come to pitch their life story. It’s a risky move, especially if the panel are in the habit of asking for any form of identification or evidence that you are, in fact, a real person, but a strong defence in the face of such questioning is either to feign outrage or just break down into tears.

3) Subtly Pitch Everything You’ve Ever Done, Ever

This is typically reserved for a no-holds-barred, last ditch attempt at securing some sort of deal once crushing desperation has set in, but why not pitch every pitch like it’s your last? It may be a little scattershot, but if your aim is good, then something has got to land, right? You step into the boardroom, ready to pitch your Sci Fi disaster movie about combating global warming with global cooling, but with every point you make, you liken it back to a different script you’ve previously written, no matter how different. Come the end of your 5 minutes, you’ve not only completely pitched one movie, but also 20+ parts of other movies. Now you’ve got real talking points for the 5 minutes of Q + A...

But wait, they’re still only asking about how ridiculous the global cooling idea is! Curses! No, don’t curse them (at least not yet) - you can still turn this around by suggesting that the answers they seek lie within your other ideas. Before you know it, they’ll want to pick up all of your projects and turn them all into an expanded cinematic universe, because they simply won’t make sense without each other. Yes, the “all or nothing” approach has given you “all”, and now all you have to do is write all 20 of those movies in all of two months. Just think, not long ago you were sceptical as to whether or not this was sensible idea!

4) Say Absolutely Nothing

One of the key laws that successful films and television shows follow is “SHOW, DON’T TELL”. In the spirit of this all-encompassing ethos, your pitch should absolutely be the same. Don’t even introduce yourself when you walk in – if you do your job right, they’ll be able to interpret your name from your behaviour. Just hold up a series of pictures, illustrations and stock photos for 5 minutes and I guarantee you’ll probably, maybe, get a standing ovation at the end. After all, what else could pictures of a bemused otter; Battersea Power Station and Cilla Black stand for, other than one woman’s struggle against her family’s constant pollution of their local river?

If you feel like pictures may actually be a little too reductive, or even too expository, perhaps the medium of interpretive dance may yield the strongest pitch. The emotion you could convey with a simple “running man” may move your audience to tears, or even prompt them to join in the dance party. From that moment, your story transcends mere words on a page, and captures the hearts and minds of a microcosm, indicative of the whole country and maybe the world. Months later, during shooting the final scenes, you may realise that you’re making a completely different movie from that original pitch, but hey... It’s still a movie.

James Cottle, after studying Scriptwriting for 4 years, is now an embittered real life freelance writer, and seeks to unlearn everything he knows. But he needs your help... Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc and share this blog to help spread his anarchic plight for reform amongst the writing masses.

10 Movie Quotes That Are Strangely Applicable to Your Life As A Writer

1) The Shawshank Redemption

“These walls are funny. First you hate 'em, then you get used to 'em. Enough time passes, you get so you depend on them. That's institutionalised.”

When your younger self once yelled at the “industry” for sticking to safe narrative structures and conventions, you’ve now begun to realise that those structures and conventions exist for a reason – to prevent your work from becoming a sloppy, unintelligible mess.

2) Avengers Assemble

“That’s my secret, Cap... I’m always angry.”

As a writer, you have to transcend the bonds of emotion to fill the headspace of multiple different characters, all with different emotional agendas and belief systems. Also, Hollywood is perpetually half-assing your ideas before you’ve even had chance to do them, and that grinds your gears.

3) The Lego Movie

“All I’m asking for is total perfection.”

It sometimes feels like a single piece of constructive criticism is an absolute deal-breaker as to whether your script was actually good or not. It’ll never be 100% perfect, like in your head, so please refrain from bringing the entire world to its knees in pursuit of an ideal that you’ll never achieve.

4) Seven Psychopaths

“Marty, I’ve been reading your movie. Your women characters are awful. None of them have anything to say for themselves. And most of them either get shot or stabbed to death within five minutes. And the ones that don’t will probably later on.”
“Well, it’s a hard world for women. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.”
“Yeah, it’s a hard world for women, but most of the ones I know can string a sentence together.”

A bit of a cheat, seeing as the movie is about a writer directly, but I think Walken sums up my point well enough.

5) Citizen Kane

“I suppose he had a private sort of greatness, but he kept it to himself.”

Many of the aspiring writers I’ve had the pleasure of knowing over the years have a certain “way” about them. They seemed quiet and isolated at first, but the more they opened up, the more you could see how they’d go on to great things. Don’t let yourself remain private. Get out there.

6) The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

“You see, in this world there’s two kinds of people, my friend – those with loaded guns and those who dig. You dig.”

It can often feel like your superiors, whether it be an agent, a producer or a mountain-dwelling mentor, hold a gun to your head whilst you tackle the “grind” of writing. Try to mark your status by being the one with the gun (not literally, please), or, alternatively, both have guns.

7) Titanic

“Gentlemen. It has been a privilege playing with you tonight.”

In those bleak days where you find yourself plagued with self doubt regarding your abilities and career choices, it’s important to remember that you are never alone in this feeling. Every other writer worth their salt has experienced this, and shall continue to support you until the bitter end.

8) This is Spinal Tap

“This tasteless cover is a good indication of the lack of musical invention within. The musical growth of this band cannot even be charted. They are treading water in a sea of retarded sexuality and bad poetry.”
“That’s just nitpicking, isn’t it?”

With every piece of feedback comes a choice. Either take it to heart and do your absolute utmost to learn from it, or choose to remain blissfully ignorant if the feedback isn’t worth paying attention to. If you’re already a blissfully ignorant person, sadly you’re at an advantage here.

9) The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

“Don’t tempt me Frodo! I dare not take it. Not even to keep it safe. Understand, Frodo. I would use this ring from a desire to do good... But through me, it would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine.”

You’ve just experienced the gut-wrenching moment when a fellow writer has told you about an idea they’re mulling over that just so happens to be amazing. You dare not let your heart be corrupted and steal it, no matter how beneficial doing so would appear to be.

10) Little Miss Sunshine

“You know what? F*** beauty contests. Life is one f***ing beauty contest after another.”

You don’t have to impress anyone with what you do, as long as you’re content with what you’re doing. I would, however, suggest you change that shirt you’re wearing right now.

James Cottle, after studying Scriptwriting for 4 years, is now an embittered real life freelance writer, and seeks to unlearn everything he knows. But he needs your help... Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc and share this blog to help spread his anarchic plight for reform amongst the writing masses.

How to Write The Ultimate Superhero Movie (That Will Never Get Made)

Do me a favour – March out into your proverbial ideas paddock and do a quick headcount for me. How many “Cash Cows” do you own? I’ll bet that those few money makers are adorned in colourful spandex, impractical capes and voice-impeding masks. Whilst this analogy may inspire you to pursue your long dormant “Telekinetic Bovine” project, my point is that superhero movies are here to stay, and box office success is almost an inevitability at this stage. But whilst the camp, Universe-building Marvel movies and the sparse, yet “serious” output of DC go toe to toe, maybe it’s about time something different came along to mix up the formula.

1) Write Characters, Not Powers

Seems like a no-brainer, but you’ve got to start somewhere. Obviously, I’m not advocating that we eliminate super powers altogether, but when your protagonist can stop a meteorite by winking at it, it becomes a little tough for the audience to relate to their “daddy issues”. We need to start going a little bit further than single characteristic definition, as just using “brave”, “headstrong”, “tortured” or “snarky” over and over means we’re limiting ourselves to watching dull, cookie-cutter men doing dull, cookie-cutter things (incidentally, I’ve already bagsied Cookie Cutter Man for a five film deal, starting Summer 2017).

Of course, many of the heroes we see on the big screen these days have endured decades of back catalogue in the comic book realm, but the hardcore fans mostly want the pure, original, untainted versions in their debut movies. This should be seen as an opportunity to add complexity and context-specific traits to the characters, rather than attempt all-pleasing broad strokes. This is why you, Mr / Mrs / Miss / Dr Writer, have the advantage of working from the ground up. Your superhero movie can be about a sociopathic, narcissistic pacifist, suffering from survivor’s guilt, but with a deep affinity for animal preservation and healthy eating, on account of their strict vegan upbringing, who just so happens to have the ability to control anything that is magenta in colour. And don’t get me started on having a female lead...

2) Destroy Stuff, Like For Real. Not Just Buildings.

Beware Spoilers for: The Dark Knight, Avengers: Assemble, Iron Man 3, Thor 2: The Dark World, Amazing Spiderman 2, Captain America 2: The Winter Soldier, Guardians of the Galaxy. Most films basically.

The truth is audiences are pretty sadistic. When we see characters kicking ass and beating the system, we are, subconsciously, eagerly anticipating that hero getting knocked down a few pegs. It endears us to them, particularly when they finally succeed in the end, or even later in the franchise. However, if these “Earth-shattering” blows merely amount to the hero finding a new sense of motivation or purpose, what was lost starts to feel a little... cheap. I mentioned in a previous post that female characters close to the protagonist are often killed off for this reason (e.g. Rachel Dawes, Frigga, Gwen Stacey, etc.), but wouldn’t it have been more interesting to see the heroes fail in the end because of their grief?

Consider on the flip-side how many fake-out deaths Marvel have hit us with over the last few films – Agent Coulson, Pepper Potts, Loki and Nick Fury, with Bucky Barnes, Zola and Groot to a lesser extent. It makes financial sense to keep these characters around, if only to kill one of them in Avengers 2: Age of Ultron and give a “dark middle chapter” vibe, but COME ON! Kill someone important already and make it stick! At least Cap 2 gave us a kind of death in terms of “nothing will be the same after this point” (yeah, I’m talking about that organisation), but overall, there’s a lack of courage. When you come to write your movie, kill and destroy almost everything your hero cares about, for real. But make it fun too. That shouldn’t be too hard for you.

3) Mess With Your Audience

We’re all pretty savvy with the formula by now, at least with origin stories. Superhero sequels afford the producers a little more creative licence to experiment (e.g. the Iron Man 3 twist, Batman’s nipples in Batman Forever, etc.), but first instalments follow a pretty specific pattern (even Batman Begins when told linearly).  That’s where you come in. Maybe you create a film where we don’t even know who the hero is until the film’s final moments, or maybe your hero and villain are the same person, or maybe the love interest betrays the hero and is having a gross affair with the elderly mentor figure, meaning our hero must convince their teacher that they are “just after their money and that all powerful amulet”, or something.

Maybe those maybes were bad examples, but maybe they weren’t. Where is it written that superhero movies have to appeal to the masses? Let’s get Nicholas Winding Refn to direct an introspective, visually bizarre acid trip about a hero who can’t speak, or he’ll explode. And forget all the 12A / PG13 stuff, because this revolutionary script demands a narrower, more mature audience. Marvel have already said they’re shying away from making their upcoming Deadpool movie R-Rated, so the burden falls upon us to realise the potential of that missed opportunity – maybe not with that particular titular anti-hero, but another obscure character from the furthest reaches of Marvel’s hive-mind subconscious.

4) No Action

Picture, if you will, your favourite superhero movie of the last two decades. Now decide what your favourite moment from that film was – chances are it was either 1) a comedic moment, 2) a badass line of dialogue or moment, 3) a moment of pure tension, 4) a sad moment or 5) Stan Lee’s inevitable cameo. If you fail to conform to these arbitrary parameters and it was actually a moment of action, like a fist fight or a shootout or a random mook getting owned, then you may be surprised to hear that you are in the minority (according to my trusted source, Facts And Legal Statistics Ensemble). Action, in its rawest sense, whilst visually awesome, is a delaying strategy. We love it for entertainment, but think of the amount of time it takes up...

Take The Dark Knight – often lauded as one of the best superhero movies of all time. Why? Because there is, surprisingly, very little conventional action. The Joker isn’t a physical antagonist – he plays everything on a far more cerebral level. Other than shooting that RPG at that armoured truck that one time, he barely gets his hands dirty. This means that Batman himself gets into arguably the least “fights” of any Batman movie (“SHASPLAT!”), approaching each scenario more like a bomb defusal. The final film, as a result, plays out more like a thriller, equating to the most stressful plate spinning contest that Batman has ever entered. So, if you want your superhero movie to be amazing, put your hero into situations more demanding than just outnumbering them with henchman, like needle threading or headphone untangling.

James Cottle, after studying Scriptwriting for 4 years, is now an embittered real life freelance writer, and seeks to unlearn everything he knows. But he needs your help... Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc and share this blog to help spread his anarchic plight for reform amongst the writing masses.