Anti-Scriptwriting Halloween 2 - The Revenge of the Reader

The hour has come once again, as we venture down into the cavernous crypts of coffee shops to bring you a tale of scriptwriting woe most foul. For tonight, a story so utterly horrifying, so gruesome and ghastly, comes a-knocking upon your impossibly creaky wooden door. Were you truly foolish enough to believe that scriptwriting was the most terrifying profession? No. There is another. Strap in to your non-electric chair, and prepare your soul for a short story of... the Script Reader.

THE REVENGE OF THE READER

Alan had not been a full-time writer for long. He had been reading Robert McKee's Story in his lunch breaks between bouts of admin for an office supplies distributor. Quitting his day job to pursue his passion, supported by his lovely wife, Teresa, and teenage son, Jason, Alan finally set to work on making his film idea a reality. Snowcatch was the spy thriller he had been dreaming up for years, inspired by classic Bond films and his own secret love for espionage.

All too soon, the first draft was complete.

Alan now realised he had no one to share his work with. No other close writer friends who would take the time to give him the feedback he knew he needed. Even he was aware the script wasn't up to a decent standard. Suddenly, the gravity of quitting his job set in. Alan frantically began searching online for places to send his admittedly sub-par script. And then, he saw it...

Submit your script to our agency for a full, comprehensive script report in just a few hours!

Blinded by the promise of a good deal, Alan sent off Snowcatch - a wave of achievement washing over him for no real reason beyond the fact he'd paid a substantial amount of money for the quick coverage. Alan left his office, curled up alongside Teresa in bed, and slowly drifted off to sleep...

BZZZZZ. Alan's phone vibrated, jolting him awake. His alarm clock showing 4:21AM. Alan checked his phone - an email response from the agency. He slipped out of bed and dashed to his office, excited for the promise of feedback. He opened up the attached PDF on his computer, but his face fell instantly. Only 4 words...

"I'll be in touch".

Alan felt confused, angry, betrayed. After writing a strongly worded email to the agency, he stepped into his bathroom to rinse his face and calm down. He opened up his cabinet, took out a few Nurofen and gulped them down straight from the tap. Just as he closed the cabinet door, Alan screamed! Written in what looked like blood on the mirror...

"YOUR DIALOGUE IS LITTERED WITH EXPOSITION..."

Alan was stunned. He desperately tried to wipe the blood off with a towel but only ended up making the mirror a red, blurry mess. As he went to leave, Jason was stood in the doorway, looking confused at his father. Alan looked back at the mirror. The blood was gone... Jason pushed past him, and gestured that he needed to pee. Alan took the cue and headed out onto the landing, still shaken.

A flickering white light from downstairs caught his eye. Alan leaned over the banister for a better look. His TV was on - static, white noise. Alan darted down stairs, grabbed the remote and tried to turn it off... but to no avail. He ran over to the telly, and began desperately mashing the power button on the set itself.

Finally, the static disappeared. The room went pitch black. Alan fumbled for his phone, hoping the light from the screen would help guide him back to the stairs. What it showed him was far more terrifying.

The light illuminated the reflection in the TV of an angry face behind him. Alan was paralysed. After a moment, the face shrieked...

"YOUR CHARACTERS ARE ALL CLICHE AND TWO-DIMENSIONAL"

Alan didn't know what was more terrifying - the ghastly howl or the cookie-cutter feedback. He span around to see no one stood behind him, and sprinted back up the stairs. Entering his bedroom, he could already see that Teresa was stirring.

"What did you mean just now, Alan?"
"Excuse me?"
"That thing you whispered into my ear?"

Alan's confusion was replaced with pure dread. He looked around the room, searching to see if anyone else was around. He turned back to his wife, and gulped. She spoke in a demonic voice...

"THERE ARE TOO MANY PLOT HOLES TO COUNT"

Alan screamed. This house was no longer safe. In his desperation, he lifted up the window and clambered outside, sliding down the side of his garage and onto his driveway. His quaint suburban neighbourhood taking on a disturbing new guise as a shadowy hellhole. Alan sprinted into the nearby forest, because he simply wasn't aware enough of narrative tropes to realise this was a bad idea.

Trudging through the mud and branches, Alan stopped in a small clearing near a cliff edge to catch his breath. Eyes darting all around him, searching for his pursuer. A raspy voice came from behind him...

"THE GENRE AND TONE ARE TOTALLY INCONSISTENT"

Alan span around to see the silhouette of his aggressor, stood several feet ahead of him by the edge of the cliff, enshrouded in darkness. The light of the moon behind him. Alan called out, and the end of his tether...

"What do you want from me?! I tried, didn't I?!"
"I WANT YOU TO BE BETTER, ALAN."

Alan's fists clenched tight. He screamed, and charged towards the man, tackling him to the ground. He unleashed a flurry of desperate punches against the man's face, but he seemed unfazed. Alan stopped his onslaught and looked down at the man.

It was him.

Alan's own visage was staring back at him. All this time, his lingering self-doubt, his guilt at sending off unfinished work, his mania... It had manifested itself and attacked Alan for the crimes he knew in his heart he had committed.

Alan's duplicate grabbed Alan by the hair, and in one final scream announced...

"YOUR PLOT TWIST WAS COMPLETELY PREDICTABLE"

And in a single moment, that seemed to last an eternity, the copy yanked the two men off the edge of the cliff, plummeting down together to the rocky terrain below.

A writer, killed by his own insecurity.

There was no reader.

In this case, there didn't need to be.

James Cottle, a Scriptwriting Mega-Scholar™, is now a real world Freelance Writer, in between intense bouts of Script Reading. Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc, "like" the Anti-Scriptwriting page on Facebook, and share this blog if you want his opinions on your work to be completely unbiased.

7 Positive Things to Come Out of Regular Script Reading Work

So, I know I've only been back doing this whole blog shebang for a few weeks now, but I'm becoming a little apprehensive of cultivating a reputation as a bit of a Negative Nancy. Even the name "Anti-Scriptwriting" does give off a bit of a "militantly opposed to things" vibe, which, I admit, is laced with a thin icing of truth, but I don't want to be bound by that. Therefore, I'm going to do my utmost to be resoundingly... *gulp* happy throughout the duration of this article, focusing on all the... *bigger gulp* good aspects of script reading I've come to appreciate over the last year. Kind of like an early scriptie Thanksgiving, minus the obscene gluttony.

1) You Can Still Have A Life.

OK, so maybe it wasn't the best idea to kick this article off by essentially saying that one of the best things about script reading is the times when you don't have to do any script reading (happy thoughts, James...). What I mean to say is that reading permits a certain amount of flexibility, depending on how much you choose to take on. You could spend the rest of your time writing, holding down another job, learning a valuable life skill or even just staring at your TV screen, patiently counting down the weeks until someone gets crowned the winner of some drawn-out competition format, before moving on to the next, ever-so-slightly different 12 week long cavalcade of gradual eliminations and meaningless controversies (side note - loving The Apprentice this year. Top work, Lord Sugar). Either way, you get to make that choice, in spite of your reading, because it's not work that you have to totally commit your existence to.

2) It Enhances Your Analytical Mind.

James' Number One Most Used Word of October, or my NOMUWOO, has been "redundant", which, whilst born out of reading scripts that bashed me around the head with characters and scenes they didn't need, has actually permeated into my day-to-day existence. I find I'm much more direct and capable of identifying when actions, questions or people are just straight up unnecessary, to a point where I may actually be developing a cold, disconnect from reality. But my objective perceptions of life itself are by the by - what matters is that I can call people out. Moreover, I can express my thoughts in a more concise, analytical fashion, utilising terms like "moreover" to legitimise my opinions in the same way a toddler who has just learnt the word "no" is suddenly offended by everything around them. Bottom line, I always loved the phrase "bottom line" (it's my NOMUPOO), but now I deploy it for reasons beyond the fact it makes me picture a Bum covered in marker pen.

3) You're Legitimately Helping People.

Whether or not you believe in karma, I definitely think the amount of sage advice I've provided to budding writers around the world should entitle me to at least some sort of reward (yeah, I do get paid, but it's the thought that counts). Either way, script reading is nothing if not a noble profession. There aren't many other creative industries where the first line of entry consists of people who actually want to help you join that industry. And while the stereotype of a reader being a thankless, bitter intern, locked in a back room surrounded by piles of verbal diarrhoea may contain a minute kernel of truth, no matter how angry that reader gets, they're still fundamentally constructing valuable feedback for those who need it. We literally exist solely to try and help people get better at writing. Although, after reading 20 absolute stinkers in a row, if number 21 doesn't quite reach the heights of Citizen Kane, it is possible that our objectivity may become a little... compromised.

4) Learning New Techniques.

The cynical part of me desperately wanted to call this section "Stealing People's Ideas", but, seeing as I've had to throw him into my mind basement, alongside the virtues of our current government and Furbies, I'm spinning this in a way that doesn't make me look like a bit of an arsehole. Reading the work of other people, no matter how great or... not great they happen to be, can be a fantastic catalyst for setting your own creative juices into motion. I've already learned the majority of the tricks of the trade through my time at University, but now, every once in a while, some clever bugger will stick something into their script, whether it be story-related, character-related, or even just a change in formatting, that just sticks with me (for the right reasons). Some sort of genius way of presenting a moment that you kick yourself for not thinking of, but simultaneously can't wait to apply to your own work. Again, not stealing. Repurposing. *Ahem*

5) Great Scripts Actually Make You Giddy.

It's true - you really don't know how good you've got it until you're forced to endure the bad for days on end. Coming across a great script is akin to the burst of pure pleasure when you discover an Invincibility Star on a particularly taxing level of Super Mario Bros. You blitz through it, breathless, laughing to yourself like an utter maniac, right up until the very end when you're almost saddened to see it go. When I first started reading, I was warned upfront about the ratio of good scripts to bad (the rumour of it being around 1 in 30 genuinely holds up), but I naively refused to believe there could possibly be so much objectively bad writing out there. That wide-eyed innocence has since been replaced be a level of world-weariness typically reserved for the bleakest of Film Noir, which will, on lucky occasions, explode into a candy-coated, magical dreamland, where you can slide down rainbows into fountains of liquid happiness and everyone's dancing the conga.

6) Money.

If you're good enough, and/or lucky, you can make money from reading scripts. People are always prepared to pay for a service that they can't do for themselves. As far as entry level jobs go, it can be surprisingly paradoxical to get into - most places will either demand you have several years of experience (not sure anyone wants to commit to doing it for that long) or that you work for free for at least a trial period. This is a load of total- WAIT. HAPPY THOUGHTS. SORRY. Money is great, and you can use it for paying for whatever you desire! Bagels, washing up liquid, crippling student loans - you name it! As previously mentioned, if you can sustain regular reading work outside of another job, you can actually permit yourself a pretty comfortable living arrangement. You're hardly going to be able to afford that shiny new Lamborghini, but you can at least settle for its more economically priced cousin, the Land Rover.

7) You Come to Love Writing For Yourself.

And finally, the big one... If you're living a normal day-to-day existence whilst trying to write something substantial on occasion, it can often feel like a chore to do so. What script reading does is make writing feel like a proper treat. As if you've earned yourself this reprieve from wading through the muck and mire. You get excited about finally being able to execute your own ideas, brewed in the background whilst you told people off for not knowing how to use Capital Letters. Honestly, I genuinely believe that my year of reading has made a significantly better writer, if only in identifying what does and doesn't work in my storytelling. So, if you're currently struggling to put pen to paper, or fingers to keys more likely, do yourself a favour - get out there, and get yourself some reading work. Even if you have to break into a library just to read classic film scripts and tear them apart (not literally, the cleaners won't like that), you owe it to your writing to have the guts to do that.

James Cottle, a Scriptwriting Mega-Scholar™, is now a real world Freelance Writer, in between intense bouts of Script Reading. Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc, "like" the Anti-Scriptwriting page on Facebook, and share this blog if you want his opinions on your work to be completely unbiased.

The Top 10 Most Unbelievable Errors Found In Scripts I've Read

First off, this article isn't meant to throw anyone specific under the Bus of Bad Writing, as most of these mistakes have been made by multiple writers. Having said that, sometimes, as a reader, you find yourself facing words on a page whose mere existence simply defy all sane reason and logic in this Universe, and, as a cautionary tale to those playing fast and loose with the writing rules, feel the need to share those bizarre anomalies. If you've ever made any of these mistakes, don't worry, we're here to help - grab a cup of cocoa and a blanket and go sit in the corner for a while. We'll be right with you.

10) Giving The Audience A Full Page Of Text To Read

When was the last time you remember reading something on screen, either in a Film or TV Show, aside from Titles and Credits? Doesn't happen often, does it? You may have to read a threatening note consisting of a few words, like "I'm watching you", "Look behind you", or "You left the fridge door open". Or the camera will focus on a few words as part of a larger document. At the most, a Sci Fi will give you a few sentences of backstory. But stopping the film halfway through for the audience to read a full letter or note, unaccompanied by voice over, is just straight up lazy.

9) 41 Missing Question Marks

At first, I thought I'd try to avoid including spelling and grammatical errors on this list, because, sadly, it's becoming harrowingly apparent to me that the vast majority of aspiring "writers" struggle with a basic grasp of either. However, this phenomenon was just too unbelievable to pass up. Yes, I counted them - there comes a stage when you just have to. 41 questions missing that defining marker. There could have been more that I missed - it would stand to reason, given how utterly scrambled my brain was by the end of reading.

8) Seeing The Exact Same Flashback Multiple Times

That doesn't sound particularly shocking - a lot of great films repeat the same turning point at different crucial points in the narrative, giving new context and insight into the events unfolding. The airport scene in 12 Monkeys, the events unfolding on the boat in The Usual Suspects, uhhh... Groundhog Day? The difference here is that the scene in question was completely unnecessary to the unfolding plot - rather just one step on the journey being shown again and again, as if we had forgotten. There were no new insights. No new context. No new experiences to be had.

7) Describing All The Characters The Exact Same Way

Detailing the physical appearance of characters is the most under-appreciated shorthand in a writer's arsenal. You can say so much about someone's personality by the manner in which they present themselves, without implictly having to tell us their character traits. Which is why this instance broke my heart a little. All the characters (who, in the worst example of this error, all happened to be women) become carbon copies of one another, with no defining attributes to set them apart. Honestly, if that really is the case, just make them all one person, and spare my heart from breaking.

6) Arbitrarily Making The First Hour Of  A Film Into A TV Pilot

Film and TV aren't only different in length, y'know? Story structure for TV depends a great deal on broadcast channel (give us mini cliff-hangers before the advert breaks, people), as well as balancing numerous continuing serial strands that run the course of the series with the "story of the week". Films, unless you've somehow bagged a deal for writing in a franchise, need to be contained, with each "Act" generally containing more meat and immediate purpose. Cutting off the first 60 pages of a 180 page movie does not a pilot make. It makes for a first Act and bit, dangling loose in the wind.

5) No Understanding Of Basic Medical Logic

This comes up so often that I've started working on a theory that the part of the brain associated with storytelling must be in direct opposition with processing facts about the human body. They just don't go hand in hand. My three personal favourites? Someone checking for a pulse in a character who has been shot twice in the head. A character grabbing an active chainsaw by the blade end and being shocked at the result. And, the best one by far, a pair of EMTs using a defibrillator on someone who is choking. CHOKING.

4) Characters Watch Another Film In The Space Of One Scene

Is the passage of time no longer sacred to you people?! I'm all for montage, time lapse, cutting to later, and other timey-wimey nonsense, but too often the characters seem to be moving at a completely different pace to the action. Let me break it down - a character sticks a movie on (let's say Taken for the sake of argument), the characters talk a little, next thing you know, that iconic scene comes on (yep, he's on the phone already), the characters chat a little more, and then, THE MOVIE HAS FINISHED?!?! Maybe I'm over-reacting. Perhaps it was just a 2 minute cut of the film.

3) Taunting Producers With "Production Notes"

This goes beyond biting the hand that feeds you to the point where you're spitting your breakfast into their poor, unsuspecting palm, and then trying to eat it back up again. Look, I'm not saying you should be worshipping producers or readers or whoever you're subjecting your spec to. I'm just saying, show a touch of class and respect, for Pete's sake. I recently read a script that took delight in including "production notes" in brackets, often following long passages of intangible, non-visual description, sarcastically wishing the poor suckers good luck shooting what they had just written.

2) The Same Script Twice In One Document

In an ideal world, I'd like to imagine this was just a strange oversight, rather than the disturbing reality that this was a conscious decision on the writer's part. Picture this, I'm reading a 70 page TV script. I get to page 33 and it just... ends? What followed were two totally blank pages, sending my mind reeling ("are there 37 blank pages?"), before the horror struck me... The script started over again from the beginning. I cross-referenced the two versions, and found tiny differences separating the two drafts. Which one was I to feed back on? Tell me, what would you do in that situation? Worth it for Triple Neeson, though.

1) Forgetting Which Main Character Died

My brain gets a little bit sad whenever I think about this one. Knowing your characters inside out is important in crafting a story, but, at the very least you should be able to remember what has happened to them. I found this script admirable at first for having the stones to off their main character at the midpoint of the story. The problem arose when they seemed to be alive and well about 10 pages later, and the character who had discovered them to be dead had taken the corpse's place. This wasn't a parallel universe story. This wasn't a manipulation of reality. This was an error.

An error that still haunts me.

James Cottle, a Scriptwriting Mega-Scholar™, is now a real world Freelance Writer, in between intense bouts of Script Reading. Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc, "like" the Anti-Scriptwriting page on Facebook, and share this blog if you want his opinions on your work to be completely unbiased.

5 Things to Check Before Script Submission (aka. 5 Dumb Mistakes People Keep Making)

Sending off your script to an agent / producer / festival / competition / overly-complimentary friend is tinged with the same nervous blend of excitement and pride usually reserved for taking your kids to school for the first time. Of course, much like with the fate of your children, you would ultimately rather they didn't return to you covered in red pen and holding a note telling you why they are rubbish. This begs the question - why not take every step to ensure that your script is at least readable when you've already spent all this time and money on getting it out there? You'd probably be surprised to know the percentage of screenplays I've come across that have made these absolutely basic errors in both scriptwriting and judgement. Please, for everyone's sake, just check these 5 things before you inflict your story upon the world.

1) You Have A Title Page

"Hey, mate! I saw this amazing film in the cinema the other day! It was about this dude who was, like, trapped on Mars or whatever, and he was, like, the only one there, and he ends up, like, trying to live there while he waits to be rescued!"
"That sounds cool. What was it called?"
"Don't know."
"Oh. Ok. Wait, is that the one based on that book?"
"Didn't say."
"Hmm, well, who wrote the screenplay?"
"There was a screenplay?!"

See that? Absolute anarchy in conversation form. Obviously, we all know the film they were referring to was Macbeth, but you see my point? No Title Page = No Clue. And don't you try and defend this oversight by saying the PDF includes the title, because that entire argument falls apart if and when the script gets printed out and put in front of someone important (let alone the fact the PDF is usually adorned with draft numbers, dates and other indecipherable hieroglyphics). 99 times out of 100, your name slapped on the front of a screenplay will mean absolutely nothing to me - but that 1 time when I genuinely enjoy your script and want to pass your name on to high powers, you'd better pray that your moniker and contact details are all there for me to exploit.

2) You Have Actually Read It Out Loud

Look, I know that it's easy to feel self-conscious when you find yourself having to awkwardly read out the lines of "Princess Arabeth of Drukain" in front of the bathroom mirror, whilst desperately praying your roommates don't walk in and recommend you a good therapist for dealing with crippling loneliness. Reading your work out loud is not about performance, though - it's simply to determine whether each line of dialogue sounds natural, true to the character and, y'know, actually like it makes a shred of sense. Like with the title page, it seems like such a basic check that people seem to overlook because "hey, it's the script reader's problem now". This isn't just limited to the dialogue either, as some writers apparently feel the bizarre compulsion to write scene description like they're recapping the abbreviated highlights of the England game on BBC Sport.

If, somehow, you read your entire first draft out loud for the first time and you find absolutely nothing wrong with it, don't celebrate, because you haven't nailed it. You need to call in another pair of honest ears to listen to what you're saying and give you moment-to-moment feedback. Script readers are naturally constricted by having to give you general notes in the form of a report, and usually only have time to touch on a few specific examples to illustrate their points. Get someone else involved to give yourself an objective perspective before submission. Better yet, have them read some of the parts, or even all of it, as the points where they'll stumble will be a good indication of where you've dropped the ball and need to take another look.

3) You Have No Delusions of Grandeur

Newsflash: Writing a script doesn't entitle you to anything. You don't deserve praise or production. Readers have no inclination to try and like it. Your script is just another in a long line of scripts that are rolling those 2015-sided dice, desperately hoping to be given a chance. Now, let's take our feet off the "Angry Gas Pedal", and slowly apply pressure to the "Brakes of Optimistic Realism". Just because you don't deserve something, doesn't mean you can't earn it by writing a great story. And trust me - readers really want to like your script because, even though it might give us less to write in our reports, we naturally want to enjoy the experience as if it were an already finished movie. And rolling the dice, well... The odds are really down to you more than anyone else.

So how does this affect your script submission? Bottom line, you need to ensure the merit of this script speaks for itself. Don't try and grease the wheels with your covering letter or submission form. Don't assume production is an inevitability when you shoehorn in references to licensed music and where CGI will be needed. I've often come across sequels to the writer's previously unproduced work, which, whilst admirable in their level of commitment, usually leaves me at a complete loss as to how I can approach overall story feedback. I've also read scripts that, despite thankfully including a title page, felt the need to name drop the writer's previous competition successes. Telling me this script won a competition in the past at best merits a brief "ooo" of curiosity, before my expectations are raised to a point where you simply won't reach - don't toot your own horn, before I'm given the chance to toot it for you (which, I assure you, is not a sexual prize for winning my approval).

4) You Have A Basic Understanding of Logic

Getting increasingly broad here, as we move away from script specific errors (more on those in future weeks) into dissecting the persistent folly of the modern writer. I don't want to go too deep into the inherent nature of cause and effect, or how the universe dictates a natural order of events, but COME ON, PEOPLE. If a woman eats an apple, then the apple is not in ensuing the scenes (at least not visually). The amount of lapses in basic logic found in most speculative scripts actually becomes a bizarre mixture of exasperating and hilarious after a certain point. So much of the time, it's simply the case that there's no connecting action - e.g. a guy gets punched and falls to the floor, before jumping onto his attacker, which omits the crucial detail of him getting up off the floor. It sounds so minor but, in the long run, it really adds up to leave a sour taste.

If you discover yourself to be one of these logically-challenged individuals, or other people keep telling you that you are, follow this basic, step-by-step guide to ensure that every event in your screenplay is 100% valid to transpire. Step 1) Event takes place. Step 2) Immediate subsequent event takes place. Step 3) Repeat Step 2 as many times as required to progress the scene to its natural conclusion. Step 4) Complete scene. Step 5) Ensure none of the aforementioned events contradict or undermine any of its preceding events. Step 6) Congratulations, you've just written a logical scene. Welcome to this Universe. Look, at the end of the day, most, if not all, movies and TV shows have plot holes, but that absolutely doesn't give you the right to ignore yours. In fact, you need to try and be at least 10 steps ahead of your audience. Draw graphs, make timelines, hire a fact-checker - just please, for the love of all that is logical, do something.

5) That It's Actually A Script

Yep. This is the big one. I'm not really sure how much clearer public calls for Film or TV scripts need to be to actually make people get the picture. These are both visual mediums. That you means you need to be giving a viewer something to watch, even during long passages of conversation. Actions, reactions, background events, montages, metaphorical images, scenery, a Stan Lee cameo - there's always so much you can be doing to complement or contrast with your unfolding story. That's the big difference between someone who knows what a script is ("Oh, it's just where you tell all the characters what to say") and someone who actually understands how a script works ("Oh, it only dictates the content of the entire movie"). Even if you're submitting an early draft (for some reason beyond just disposable income from your presumably more successful job), the script needs to feel like the finished product.

"James!", I hear you exclaim into your computer / mobile screen, "what could you have possibly received to read that wasn't actually a script?". Well, my hypothetical friend, where do I begin? Just because it looks like a script, doesn't mean it is one. I've had writers basically send me "novels" in disguise, where the scene description implicitly details the backstories and inner thoughts of the characters, as if they would somehow be apparent to an audience watching (as well as almost every line of dialogue being preceded by needless parenthesis, like "(exclaiming)"?!). I've read a few movies that have pretended to be plays, focusing their energies on extended passages of rambling dialogue and only referring to "props" and "staging" in direction. I've even had scripts that are so caught up in dictating meaningless camera directions that it wasn't even clear what the camera was ever actually focusing on (were they meta-commentaries that I just didn't understand?!). I am literally on my knees at this point, begging you budding writers, please, PLEASE, check that your script is actually a script, because otherwise you're just wasting everyone's time.

James Cottle, a Scriptwriting Mega-Scholar™, is now a real world Freelance Writer, in between intense bouts of Script Reading. Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc, "like" the Anti-Scriptwriting page on Facebook, and share this blog if you want his opinions on your work to be completely unbiased.

Where I've Been and What Happens Now...

My word, has it only been 203 days? Where has the time gone?

Where I've Been...

As with any good hiatus, cultivating a sense of mystery regarding my absence is just as important as actually telling you what I've been up to, besides, y'know, existing. In fact, to say that my disappearance triggered waves upon waves of fan theories and speculative emails would be a significant understatement. A false understatement... but an understatement, nevertheless. Had you going there, didn't I?

Right, enough twists worthy of a Sherlock finale - Here's the real deal. I have been stranded on an island. With little money to my name and only my wits to keep me alive, I have been able to build a simple, yet enjoyable, life for myself here on the remote isle of... Great Britain! YES, I got you again! Have some of that, you- wait, where are you going? Ok, I'll behave, sorry.

So, right off the bat, I've written a veritable vat-load of scripts in the last 6 months, and whilst I won't bore you with too many specific details, the short headlines include:

- A Sitcom Pilot (Longlisted by BBC Writersroom).
- 32 Radio Sketches.
- Spec Scripts for "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" and "Brooklyn Nine Nine".
- The Opening 10 Pages of a Sci Fi Feature.
- A Full Length Sci Fi Drama Pilot (for BBC Writersroom's latest submission window).
- Lots of little ideas in my "mind notebook".
- Numerous Outlines for my next BIG Feature Film Project.

Cue generic "writing" picture.

Now, before this gets all too self-congratulatory, let's all remember that quantity isn't always indicative of quality, and while this looks like a fair amount on paper, some of those projects have only been through a few drafts, and are still arguably a way off "completion". But that's the incurable itch of writers - we'll never fully be satisfied. So instead I'm giving myself a relatively hollow pat on the back for at least writing something during this blogular hiatus.

It hasn't all been scribbling notes and yelling at Celtx though - I've been doing some other real world stuff too, I swear! A podcast which I write for and host, "A Little Bit Racey", got nominated for a UK Podcasters Award for "Best Comedy" - a tremendously proud achievement of ours, which, in part, is thanks to our lovely audience. Aside from spending months drumming up the votes on social media, we put in an appearance at the event itself, and, despite ultimately not being the victors, our resolve to take the show to the next level has increased tenfold, culminating in the impending release of some Christmas Specials before the New Year comes a knockin' (check us out on social media, I'm becoming aware that this seems like a story for another time).

Which brings me to my DAY JOB ("Ahh-ahhh-ahhhhh"), for lack of a better term. Yes, the rumours I just invented are, in fact, true - I'm totally a part time script reader. I have become the "man" that this blog has repeatedly lampooned, parodied and completely misunderstood in the past. But hey, I'm going on record here and saying that script reading is a noble profession. Aside from the occasional bouts of rage and utter confusion, I'm able to pass on (hopefully) valuable feedback to writers who want and/or need it. From time to time, I'll even get the same script to read again, months later, and to see a marked improvement genuinely fills me with an inner warmth normally reserved for extreme dental surgery. So, let's talk about what this all means for this blog's rebirth...

What Happens Now

It occurs to me that, having read scripts crafted by writers from all different walks of life, that a large number of budding storytellers could do with some crucial "do's" and "don'ts" from the bloke on the other side of the world who makes a living out of judging them. Naturally, these guidelines will definitely need to be presented in a fun, not-at-all-ripped-from-Buzzfeed, format, and employ a fine blend of meaningless rambles, useless advice and embittered commentary. Truthfully, bringing this blog back with a more "script reader" focus is just as much for me as it is for any of you, but who knows? You just might learn something while you laugh at how delusional my new position of "power" has made me.

Make no mistake, this is still "Anti-Scriptwriting", not "Anti-Scriptreading", and over the coming months, I've got a lovely variety of topics and fun little articles for y'all to sink your eyes into. So stick around, friend - let's properly catch up, yeah?

Some housekeeping before I sign off today. The blog will now run ONCE a week, with new articles every Saturday (typically around midday). During the blog's previous run, I became increasingly anxious of plugging bi-weekly on Facebook and Twitter to all my friends / followers (that makes it sound like I have way more than I actually have), and I'm aware that sort of overbearing need for attention can become a little intoxicating. Therefore, over the next week, look out for dedicated "Anti-Scriptwriting" pages on both of those social platforms, and be sure to give them a "like" or "follow" if you're one of the awesome people who wants to keep posted!

Finally, at the end of the year, I'll be doing a Q+A blog, taking all of your questions regarding script writing, script reading or just script anything, and answering them in a way that only I can (i.e. trying to be funny for a bit, before failing and just telling you straight). So, be sure to leave ANY questions you may have (even if you already know the answer and just want to know my specific thoughts) on this page, or via Facebook comments, messages, Tweets, texts, emails, carrier pigeons, smoke signals or whatever means you feel is best to reach me.

Much love - It's great to be back x

James Cottle, a Scriptwriting Mega-Scholar™, is now a real world Freelance Writer, in between intense bouts of Script Reading. Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc, "like" the Anti-Scriptwriting page on Facebook, and share this blog if you want his opinions on your work to be completely unbiased.