Kill the dog – Book by Paul Guyot

You Have One Job. Your job is to elicit emotions from the reader. Your job is
not to write something that will be emotional once it’s put on screen. The
read must be compelling, or it will never become a film. You must elicit an
emotional response from the reader. You do this by writing. Not by math,
not by building some mechanical scaffolding for your story, but by writing.
Defy expectations.

The problem with screenplays from those who follow conventional advice
is that they hit all the points they’re told they must hit; they format the
way they’re told to format; they describe things the way they are
indoctrinated to do so... And they all sound exactly the same. That is
death when it comes to success as a screenwriter. If your script doesn’t
sound original, doesn’t have a unique voice, it risks failure. A.I. cannot
replicate originality, shared experiences, or imagination—things people
still desire.

Forget all the “structure” talk, and just outline your story as it unfolds in
your head. Outline it. Outline it again. Or don’t use anything at all. What
works for you is what’s right. Use whatever method works for you. If
someone tells you that you can’t or that you’ll fail, ask for their
credentials.

Gurus can talk endlessly about various storytelling techniques. But

without quality writing, none of it matters. You cannot write your best if
you approach it from an engineering mindset.

Money spent on experiences—such as travel, food, art, music, and culture

—will enhance your screenwriting more than any money spent on contests
or feedback from people who aren’t professional screenwriters.

About achademia:
Academia focuses primarily on analysis after the fact. Few films in end up
exactly as the writer intended. And they often fail to provide examples of
terrible films that followed those rules and struggle to understand why
one screenplay is great while another is terrible. The answer is simple: it’s
all about the writing.

What distinguishes great writing is not just imagination, inspiration,

emotion, experience, and voice, but how these elements are woven into
the narrative. This can only be cultivated through life experience, paired
with relentless writing. You must write in your unique voice and in your
own way. Love the act of writing more than the outcome. The only way to
learn is by doing. Writing is both an art and a craft. The most critical part
of the process—arguably even more important than discipline and
commitment—is imagination, whimsy, inspiration, and voice.
For the past 25 years, I’ve had a sign over my typewriter that reads,
“Don’t think!” You must never think at the typewriter; you must feel.

Many screenwriting websites claim to have “screenwriting experts” to

judge your work. Look out for these pitfalls:

- Vague or Non-Specific Experience: If their credits or experience

are unclear or unverifiable outside of their own website, be
sceptical. Professionals openly share their credits.

- False Industry Connections: Claims of connections with major

production companies or being an "award-winning screenwriter"
without specific names or credits.

- Script doctors/consultants: A working professional screenwriter

is hired to do a pass for a significant paycheck and then leaves
without taking screen credit. However, anyone claiming to be a
professional script doctor is likely lying. Often misused because
there is no reliable way to verify such claims. True script doctors are
established screenwriters with substantial credits. Studios would not
hire people that do not know how to write to doctor a script.

- Readers: Readers are people who could not write themselves and
primarily do not exist anymore. If the person isn’t a working
professional screenwriter, why would you trust anything they say
about becoming one?

- The Excited Newbie: Social media is filled with individuals in the

early stages of their screenwriting careers, desperately seeking
validation and relevance.

- Ghost-writing claims: Ghost-writing does not exist in Hollywood.

Instead, look for other writers. Ideally profersonal working screenwriters

with experience. It may be just as unhelpful, but at least you are not
paying for it. You can interact with this person directly. Read their work,
giving you insight into their background and level of knowledge.
Screenwriting is a lonely endeavor. Being part of a community is beneficial
for both your writing and mental health.

Write What You Know

Write what’s inside you. Write what frightens you. Write what excites you.
Write what compels you. Write the things you know. Put your experiences
and feelings into your writing. Embrace your pain. Every scar is a story.
Have you ever had your heart broken? Remember that pain? That’s what
you know. A screenwriter can research anything, but research is external.
You can combine research with the internal pain you know. As writers, we
need to have something to say; otherwise, what's the point?

Write with complete confidence. Believe in yourself. The only way to

achieve this confidence is through consistent practice. The more confident
your writing, the stronger your voice becomes. But don’t be a jerk.

- “Read scripts, read scripts! But don’t limit yourself to screenplays. Read
novels, short stories, plays, essays, and poetry. Just as you cannot write
enough, you cannot read enough. Maybe especially stuff before your time.
Reading beyond the trends will help. It never gets easier; you just get
better. Give it everything you have regardless of your situation.

The Writer’s Voice

Voice is probably the single most important factor in your screenwriting
and the best way to make your script stand out. Voice is the distinctive
qualities of your creative personality expressed on the page, including
your turn of phrase, syntax, punctuation, character development, and
even formatting. Don’t follow the “gurus” rules about description. The
writer of “buth cassidy” is giving zero thought to what the uninformed
formating or rules. Embrace your own voice. Tell your story your way.
Today, the most sought-after screenwriting talent is Voice—executives
want to see original material.

Example on voice: “Not that it matters, but what follows is true”

You find your voice by writing and reading a lot. It can be helpful to
emulate the type of writing you love. Once I found my voice, my writing
leveled up quickly, leading to opportunities in the industry.

Development pitfalls
A company might start with a fantastic script that everyone is excited
about—fresh, original, with a unique voice that elicits emotion. But then
the development process begins. The money people often water it down,
believing the story is too specific or has too narrow a point of view. In their
attempt to appeal to a broader audience, they end up appealing to no
one, robbing it of its point of view and its voice.

Descriptiom - Telling vs Reporting

When a story is simply reported in a screenplay, all emotion is removed,
making it dull for the reader and wrecks its potential. Many “gurus” say
that you should not include anything in your screenplay you can’t see. No
internal thoughts, no excessive descriptions. This is bullshit and removes
all of your voice. Behavior is more interesting than backstory. Being
specific is also akey component of voice. Don’t just say “eats dinner”
when you can describe what’s being eaten.

Boring description vs. good:

Broing: “She looks at her expensive watch.”
Better: She glances at her Zenith Defy Lab, a watch as tightly wound as
she is.

Boring: Larry sits in a chair at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in hand,
waiting for Brenda. He takes a sip, sets the cup down, and checks his
watch.
Better: Larry sips his coffee . . . checks his watch . . . waiting . . . for
Brenda.

Notice how different the feel of the read is? When you omit needless
words, you create emotion, suspense, tension, and anticipation. This
technique does the most important thing in writing: it elicits an emotional
response from the reader.

Writing tv:
Part of writing well in tv is being able to write in the voice of the show—
not the voice of the showrunner. If a writer tries too hard to mimic the
showrunner, they often end up writing poorly.

A common practice in the TV world is the creation of a "two-pager"—a

short treatment or synopsis of the episode that is typically no longer than
two pages. The outline is usually a detailed scene-by-scene description.
You must adapt to the expectations of how they want you to write;
however, your process and voice remain uniquely yours. I write out each
scene effectively describing everything occurring within it. Sometimes, I
include dialogue, regardless of whether it makes it into the final script.
However, executives may note that a scene needs to be "clearer," which
is often code for "dumb it down." Once you complete an outline for a
television episode, your freedom to deviate is limited.

In most one-hour shows, the writer typically has about ten days to two
weeks to complete their first draft. This draft is then submitted to the
executive producers. If submitted early enough, they may provide notes
for revisions. However, later in the season, it’s likely that no additional
work will be allowed. Lower-level writers, such as story editors, generally
receive fewer rewrite opportunities compared to upper-level writers like
supervising producers and co-executive producers. Because they have
more experience in crafting scripts under tight deadlines.

Writers should avoid including act breaks in spec pilots. With much of TV
now formatted for streaming, traditional act breaks can feel limiting. A
showrunner may disagree with your chosen breaks, but they'll never
reject a great script solely because it lacks them.

Scene length
Scene pages do not matter as much as you think. If you write an amazing,
compelling, entertaining feature script that happens to be longer than 120
pages, it may not matter. However, it is much easier to secure financing
for a decent 98-page feature than for a beautifully crafted 130-page
script. In the end, what truly matters is the quality of the writing.

The heroes jurney:

The Hero’s Journey isn’t a structure; it’s a template for certain
mythological stories. Unfortunately, screenplays that rigidly follow this
model often fall flat and don’t launch careers.

Structure by Paul Guyot

I’ve never paid much attention to structure, yet I’ve realized there is an
inherent structure in my writing that I wasn’t consciously aware of. It’s a
misconception that structure is what makes a good story. The quality of a
screenplay isn’t determined by its structural "math," but by its emotional
depth, heart, and imagination. Is the writing exciting, compelling, thrilling,
hilarious, or heartbreaking? Structure isn’t something you write well; it’s
something that happens because you wrote well. When you tell a story to
a friend, you don’t think about structural elements, inciting incidents, or
low points—you just tell the story. If it’s a good story, the structure will
emerge naturally. You already know how to do this! You have been
absorbing narrative your entire life. You want highs and lows, surprises,
and all the elements that make stories interesting.

Many gurus claim to back their theories with analysis, but no great script
was ever written this way. There are no hacks or shortcuts. You don’t learn
to write by following formulas; you learn by writing. Each page, scene, and
script you complete makes you better. Following charts or adhering to
rigid rules can be detrimental for beginners. If your structure isn’t
working, it’s because your story isn’t working.

You should not start by imposing specific plot points. While you might
produce a screenplay that appears beautifully structured, it risks being
flat, unoriginal, and indistinguishable from others crafted the same way.
Instead let the characters’ emotional journey unfold. Starting with
structural elements works for some writers, that’s great—but they’re in
the minority.

When Sylvester Stallone wrote "Rocky," he focused on characters he knew

and cared about. He even admitted to writing scripts based on formulas
previously, but those scripts didn’t sell.

Rian Johnson might structure his scripts during the outlining process, but
when it comes time to write, much of that goes out the window. His
success comes from his unique voice, not from rigid adherence to non-
existent rules.

It’s worth noting that some genres, like heist films or murder mysteries,
may require more planning. However, even in these cases, success
depends on strong characters and relationships. Even when writing a heist
script, I focus on the emotional journey of the characters.

The key to good storytelling is understanding the "why." Why are you
telling this story? Why are your characters making certain choices? Why is
a scene set in a particular location? Why does this story matter to you? If
you focus on these questions, you’ll be ahead of the game. The more you
connect with your story emotionally, the more likely your script will
resonate with your reader.

Instead of following plot-beats, you need to fix it by feel—through tone,

rhythm, emotion, and language. Ensure your writing is compelling and
interesting. The best way to begin is by using your imagination.
Overthinking can clog your creative process with so much mental sludge
that you’re no longer free to write your best work. When I build a story,
my focus is on the characters and their relationships, searching for the
most interesting and compelling way to express their emotional journey. I
often start with a simple idea—a character, a situation, an experience, or
a dilemma.

Don’t overthink it. Many writing guides take the natural instincts we have
as storytellers and reduce them to confusing manuals. Like the best chefs
in the world say, fewer ingredients often lead to better results. If your
script isn’t working after you’ve finished it, take a closer look at your
characters and their relationships. Examine how you’re telling the story—
not through structure, but through language.

Hook: Good writing hooks a reader in the early pages of a screenplay. It

doesn’t matter how explosive a plot point or shocking an incident you
introduce if the writing itself is lacking.

Prosess:
Every screenwriter approache is different. If you asked ten professional
screenwriters to craft a script from the same logline, you’d end up with
ten distinct scripts. Great screenwriters tell stories in their own way and
voice, while mediocre ones imitate someone else’s approach. What works
for you will give you the best chance of success.

I trust my instincts. My ideas come from everywhere and anywhere, often

when I’m not consciously looking for them. I’ve derived ideas from
seemingly insignificant moments, like watching a person eat in a
restaurant or a single character from a thirty-five-year-old Hong Kong
movie. As writers, we are inherently observers of life and human behavior,
and each execution is different. Whether you choose to plan, research,
sketch, create beat sheets, or outlines—or none of these—find a process
that works for you. Focus on the simple emotional journey of your
characters and the dilemmas they face in their relationships.
Start typing and write from your gut, your heart, and your soul, and
persist until you type "FADE OUT." Even when it feels like your writing is
bad, keep going. Embrace the "vomit draft," where you get your ideas out
as quickly as possible. However if you've done your preparation well, your
first draft won’t feel like such a struggle. It may still suck, as all first drafts
do, but it will serve as the foundation from which your best story can
emerge during revisions.

Rewriting will be easier if you’ve laid the groundwork. Once you finish your
first draft, step away for a while. When you return to read it, focus on how
it feels. Don’t obsess over whether you hit every plot point; instead,
assess whether it resonates on an emotional level. Is your language
interesting and engaging? Forget the formulas; they will fall into place as
you write.

Consider the following questions: Are your action lines flat and boring,
merely reporting what’s happening in the scene? Or are they alive,
evocative, and engaging? Is the writing focused on your characters’
relationships and how these relationships inform and affect the story? Is
there an emotional journey taking place? Is your dialogue authentic,
engaging, and full of subtext, or is it on-the-nose, wooden, and laden with
exposition?

Dialoge:
Great dialogue cannot be taught, it can only be learned trough writing.
There are various styles of excellent dialogue; for instance, the
heightened reality of screenwriters like Aaron Sorkin or Quentin Tarantino.
On the other hand, Paul Thomas Anderson writes authentic dialogue. Both
styles share a common attribute: subtext. Great dialogue simply cannot
exist without it. In dialogue, subtext is everything.

Don’t overthink it. Don’t attempt to write “good” dialogue or cool lines.
Instead, let your characters speak for themselves. If you’ve created multi-
dimensional, authentic, and compelling characters, allow them to guide
your writing.

If you can’t identify who’s speaking without their name above the
dialogue, it’s time to set this book down and rewrite immediately. Creating
unique voices for each character doesn’t mean giving one a Boston accent
and another a British accent—that’s lazy writing. Instead, it involves
giving them their own inner voice, reflected in their dialogue.

The writers who craft the best dialogue are often the best listeners. If you
want to improve your dialogue writing, focus on enhancing your listening
skills. Ignore the common advice that good dialogue must express a story
point or advance the plot; bad dialogue often falls into those traps. Read a
script by Sorkin, Tarantino, or any writer you admire, and you’ll see how
much great dialogue has little to do with plot advancement. Dialogue isn’t
math. Good dialogue focuses on people—characters and their
relationships. The quality of your writing is absolutely capped at your
understanding of human behavior. You will never write above what you
know about people. My own writing improved significantly as my
understanding of human behavior deepened.

Regardless of the idea I’m working on, my writing process remains

consistent:

CLOCKING IN
Avoiding my phone entirely for the first 90 minutes of my day has been a
game changer for my creativity and productivity. I don't check emails,
browse the internet, or look at texts— this puts your brain into a reactive
state, hindering creativity. This allows me to sit down and write with
maximum focus and creativity. Sometimes I can go up to three hours
without checking my phone, but I never drop below that 90-minute mark,
which is my absolute minimum. It took about two weeks to fully commit to
this habit, but once I did, my creativity and productivity increased
exponentially.

SWITCHING THE FIELD

I use a technique called "switching the field" to refresh my creativity by
changing environments, such as moving from my home office to a coffee
shop or hotel. This change often brings new energy and inspiration. When
juggling multiple projects, I allocate specific days to each one, avoiding
task-switching within the same day. If switching is necessary, I reset my
day by clearing my mind and restarting with a different project-specific
playlist to help mentally transition. This structure keeps me focused and
productive.

Training and disipline:

Be disciplined. You will never become the healthiest (or best) screenwriter
without consistently working your writing muscles. You shouldn’t write one
or two screenplays and expect to reach Aaron Sorkin level. You may be
exceptionally talented, but the odds are stacked against it. So, why not hit
the writing gym and increase your chances?

Writer Crosstraining
If you’re struggling with your screenplay and have tried every trick to find
momentum, consider writing in a different form. Try crafting a short story
or writing a blog post. If all else fails, write about your inability to write. It
can spark creativity. You can edit a bad page, but you can’t edit a blank
page.

Doing the Dozens

Take any situation and write it in twelve different ways. It’s crucial that
you stick to twelve. It doesn’t matter if the ideas are good, bad, cliché,
sappy, lame, or even genius. The goal is to generate creativity in your
writer's brain that you can later harness and infuse into your screenplay.
You might find that one of them is so great it makes its way into your
script, propelling you forward. Alternatively, all twelve might miss the
mark, yet inspire you to strive for better. Or perhaps one of the ideas
sparks inspiration for another scene in your script. Trust me, doing the
dozens works for all stages of screenwriting.

At the Bar
When you’re grappling with a scene, consider taking two of your
characters and sitting them at a bar. Let them discuss the issue you’re
struggling with.

Big Night
The Big Night exercise involves taking an existing scene with at least two
to four characters and rewriting it without any dialogue. Don’t settle for a
small one with just four lines. Engage deeply with the material to unlock
new insights.

Exercise: Rewrite a Scene Without Dialogue

Rewrite a scene from your original work or a favorite of another
screenwriter without any dialogue. This enhances your descriptive writing
skills and allows for creative flexibility.

The Time Traveler

Take your scene, and imagine it in a different time and place. While
maintaining the same emotional impact, character revelations, and
information.

Writing Without Writing

Involves engaging in creative activities that aren't directly related to
typing or researching your script. This approach allows your mind to work
on problems without the pressure of sitting at a keyboard. I often find
clarity while biking, golfing, or cooking. Instead of mindlessly scrolling
through social media, I engage in meaningful creative activities that
stimulate my right brain. This method is effective for resolving script
issues.

Learning from Other Works

Choose a movie or TV episode similar to your project, focusing on the
same genre or world. Read the script thoroughly as a reader, not a writer,
then take a break. Watch the film, following along page by page. Observe
changes in dialogue, locations, scene order, and character appearances.
This reveals how various elements affect the final product.

The Plagiarist Exercise

Select a script from a film or TV episode you admire. Type it out word for
word, including every ellipsis. This helps you feel the story, sense
character relationships, and understand the connection between setting,
tone, and emotional impact. You may initially feel inspired, believing
you’re better than ever. However, this feeling can quickly turn into self-
doubt. The writing you encountered was raw, honest, original, and
authentic.

Prosess:
1. Idea:
Had an idea, but not written anything down. Started to do some research
of the world the movie was set in. Then the focus shifted to creating
characters—knowing that plot doesn’t exist without them. He knew he
needed a character as compelling as Danny Ocean. Tought about
caracthers from other films that emotionally resonated and wrote them
down. Inspiration from other works is a natural part of the creative
process, so long as it doesn’t become outright copying or plagiarism.

2. Sketching:
I started jotting down thoughts about characters, considering tone—Italian
Job? O11? I immersed myself in the world of heist films, watching 30
movies. I wasn’t searching for tropes or scenes to emulate or copy; rather
to immerse myself in that genre. Occasionally, I made notes about an
action sequence or characterization. As the idea simmered in the back of
my mind, my characters began to take shape. I imagened actors who
could play it, to get an ancor. I knew some caractheristiscs and passions,
but had to figure out the “Why” behind my protagonist’s actions. If an
idea lacks a solid "why" at its core, I believe it’s not worth pursuing. This
stage I play around with thoughts and ideas without committing to
anything. Also looking back at the research, that may not end up in the
movie, but helps to forme the dna. It can last days, weeks, or even
months. I continue until I feel ready to move into Phase 3.

3. Word document
I gather all my sketches, notes, bits of dialogue, character thoughts,
locations, and ideas into a cohesive Word document. I don’t worry about
having a "killer title" or "logline" at the start. I focus on what the movie
feels like to me. I write a mission statement outlining my purpose. I don’t
force themes early on, like other writers, but instad let them emerge
naturally through the characters and their story. My initial focus is always
on the characters and their journey.

After that, I create two additional documents: one for characters and
another for “Scenes We Want to See” (SWWS). I need a firm grasp of who
my characters are and the relationships. It’s the relationships, not just the
characters, that drive the story forward. I realized the protagonist's
motivation to steal watches had to be personal. While I don’t write
extensive character backstories, I spend a lot of time thinking about who
the characters are and how they fit into the narrative.

Then I shift focus to the plot, particularly the heist. Research becomes
essential, reaching out to experts in the field and finding out everything
there is to know.

Then, I moved on to developing the antagonist, believing that a strong

hero is defined by the strength of their villain.

With the characters, conflicts, and the ending clearly mapped out, I
started to visualize scenes and sequences. I always know the ending
before I start writing and often picture the final scene or line of dialogue.
Having a clear vision of the emotional weight of the ending is essential for
me.

4. Brainstorming beat sheet

I create a brief document brainstorming four to five key story beats, such
as the opening, original heist, Dane's second chance, assembling the
crew, the heist plan, the heist itself, and the final beach scene. I write
from a character-driven perspective, prioritizing character development
above all else. However the goal is to map the external structure of the
story, leaving space to be filled during writing. Rarely create more than
eight beats, as I find that too many limits creativity. I avoid rushing,
knowing that pressure can stifle ideas. Once I’m ready to connect these
beats, I move on to outlining

5. Playlist
A critical phase that I cannot write without. I create a playlist—a personal
"soundtrack" for the story. At least 2 hours. I find the rhythm and tone of
the piece. While gurus suggests avoiding specific song names in scripts
due to licensing costs, including them can enhance emotional impact and
attract interest.

6. Outlining
I consider it essential for screenwriting, providing a necessary map to
guide the process. Outlining isn’t required, but can help smooth the
writing process and allows freedom to explore while staying on track.
Unlike novelists, screenwriters face tighter constraints, making planning
crucial. I focus less on stating a theme, incidents, or page count, and more
on my story from the characters’ internal points of view. I fill in the gaps of
the beats. With each outline, I become more detailed, but I never make
them overly intricate. While some writers create lengthy outlines, I prefer
shorter ones, serving as a flexible roadmap. When multiple storylines are
involved, I create mini-outlines for each character and only merges them
together when they work well themselves. Once I finish it, I place it infront
of my screen. And crossing off scenes after writing. This is a satisfying
milestone on the way to completing the script.
7. First draft
I follow a disciplined writing routine, starting at 5:30 AM with meditation,
prayer, and coffee. Music helps set the right mindset. While an outline
guides me, some scenes may not come easily. If I struggle, I either move
to another scene or change my approach to spark creativity. Changing the
point of attack can provide the creativity I need. Never be afraid to switch
gears. I prioritize momentum, often writing scenes out of order or using
placeholder dialogue. The goal of the first draft is to get ideas on paper,
not perfection. Many new writers get stuck aiming for a polished draft too
soon, but the key is to keep going.

8. The Rewrite
After completing the first draft, I resist revisiting it for 3-4 weeks to gain
fresh perspective. The longer, the better. Rewriting requires an objective
perspective on the earlier draft. It’s essential to "kill your darlings" while
also being mindful of the negative voice that tries to convince you it's all
garbage.

I print a hard copy, grab a red pen, and find a comfortable spot to read the
script. Approaching the script as if it were written by someone else.
Making sure I read every word, to catch typos. Maybe read out loud. I
evaluate the script as if I were considering hiring the writer. Anything I
don’t like or feel could be improved gets marked with four red letters in
the margin. Write WCDB - we can do better. The red pen is not for fixing
issues but for identifying them. I only get specific with the red pen if a line
of dialogue or description comes to me in the moment. Any typos I find
are also noted. I aim to finish this first read in one sitting because
stopping midway complicates the process. Don’t rewrite before reading
the whole script. Ater expending significant creative energy on the initial
reading, I prefer to give myself the night to recharge, before writing.

First Rewrite My first rewrite is nothing more than addressing all my red
pen marks. Fixing typos, working on the WCDB parts, and generally just
making it a little better and tighter without attempting to create a ready-
for-Hollywood version just yet. Once I’ve gone through the entire script, I
set it aside for a maximum of a couple of days.

9. Second rewrite
Second Rewrite This stage involves more heavy lifting. I print out a new
hard copy, grab my red pen again, and read through it. Now I am also
actively writing while I read. I will go through the script with a focus solely
on the story. Does it work? Does it hold up? Does it track? Does it make
sense?

Feedback: After the second rewrite, I send the draft to two trusted
professionals for feedback, seeking constructive criticism, not just praise.
This selective sharing is partly because I don’t want too many notes or
ideas at this point. They know the difference between an early draft and a
production draft and I trust their opinion. Avoid sharing with non-writing
professionals at this stage.

10. Third Rewrite

Once I get notes back, I will review them and decide which ones to
address and which to ignore. My next rewrite will implement these notes.

11. Fourth Rewrite

Then I’ll take a break and try to read the script as if I were a first-time
viewer. I mark the script with a red pen, and then, on the same day, I start
rewriting, taking into consideration all of the notes I made.

12. Fifth Rewrite

In the fifth draft, I focus solely on character: character behavior, dialogue,
relationships, reactions, you name it. I don’t worry about descriptions,
locations, settings, or overall story. I aim to ensure that the characters are
unique and authentic as possible, reflecting their personal journeys. This is
the draft where I try to make sure someone can read the script and know
which character is speaking

13. Sixth Rewrite

i’m going through all my descriptions, all my language and syntax, all my
turns of phrase, all the writing. Once this draft is finished, I give it to the
other two fellow professionals.

14. Seventh Rewrite

After receiving their notes, I will do one more pass, and then my work will
be ready for submission. I never send anything out that hasn’t been
rewritten at least six times.
This feedback revealed that my main character needed a complete
rewrite. My protagonist was an empty shell, surrounded by a cast of
vibrant, three-dimensional characters with rich relationships. I knew the
only solution was to step away. I had become too close to the script and
lost my perspective. So I put it aside and revisited it six months later.

This time, it clicked. The key was shifting my focus from the "cool"
elements to the relationships between characters. Initially, I had
approached the project like a fan, but I realized the story was really about
fathers and sons. Once I embraced that theme, everything fell into place. I
rewrote scenes to emphasize deeper interactions, and the script
improved. I entered a rare flow state, completing the rewrite in three
weeks, with several days of truly inspired writing. The well-rounded
protagonist transformed the entire story.

Proofread your scripts. Then proofread again. Find someone to proofread

before you send out any screenplay. Good writing can be tainted by typos,
as they show a lack of care or effort on the writer’s part.
Tips:
Never take sides against the family.
Regardless of how a finished film may appear to you, it’s crucial never to
publicly trash a project that carries your name. Getting a motion picture
made—and released—is incredibly challenging. Whether the outcome is
amazing or awful, one should always take pride in accomplishing such a
rare feat.

Terms:

Bailing on a pitch.
Much of a day in the writers' room is spent with writers pitching various
ideas—everything from thoughts on entire episodes to character
relationships, arcs, villains, plot points, and scenes. A common occurrence
is when a writer starts pitching an idea but then realizes it isn’t working
and decides to abandon itNever bail on the pitch! Bad pitches are part of
the process and can often lead to good or great ones.

Hang a Lantern on It
When there's a logic issue, and the writer has exhausted all options to
conceal the problem. So they solve it by acknowledge the issue as a story
point. If something doesn’t make sense, have the characters discuss that
very lack of sense.

Line, Not a Song

Refers to the idea that not everything requires extensive attention on the
page. For example, if a writer advances a story point or character reveal
with a four-page scene when a couple of lines of dialogue would suffice.

Logic Cop and the Fun Train

Don’t let a logic issue derail the enjoyment of your story. The better the
story, the less strict adherence to logic is required.

The Man with a Hat

Where the story comes to a complete halts for a character to deliver
exposition—essentially explaining what has happened, what is happening,
or what will happen—as if a "man with a hat" has stepped out to address
the audience. A common scenario involve a concern about the
understanding may lead someone to suggest having a character explain
it, prompting the response, Nah, that’s just a man with a hat.”

Not the House Number

It applies when a writer grapples with a story or character issue and has
an idea that’s close to a solution but isn't quite right—it's in the
neighborhood.
THE RAKE: - Comedy
It refers to something that starts off really funny but continues for so long
that it ceases to be funny, eventually becoming funny again—sometimes
even funnier than before.

SANDWICH GUY:
Refers to a segment of the audience that prefers simpler stories that are
easy for him to comprehend. Test if a pitch or plot idea is becoming overly
complex by asking if Sandwich Guy would watch it. However not all stories
are written for him.

SUCKING ON THE DAY PLAYER CRACK PIPE: When writing the same series
repeatedly with the same cast, it can become tedious. A writer becomes
overly enthusiastic about creating a new character and overdoes it, for an
insignificant role. The day player can end up being more interesting and
entertaining than the series regulars, which is a big no-no.