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As my main character from Dig Down Rob Moore would say, “Typical. F###ing Typical.”

I’d started to get success in my screenwriting career, which I hoped to carry the momentum from into achieving more success in my overall writing career. I had gotten some good advice from the people running the Santa Barbara Screenplay Competition, as they would often hold free webinars on Zoom providing solid advice to aspiring screenwriters in the form of recommending going to film festivals to network.

Only now, with the Writers Guild of America, the WGA, going on strike, networking was off the table. If I went against the union while they were looking to negotiate better conditions for current and future screenwriters, and they found out, I would be blacklisted, with no one in the industry willing to work with me ever again.

I didn’t want to lost the momentum I’d attained, but I didn’t know what else to do.

Luckily for me, the Santa Barbara team managing the competition held another free webinar – this time focused on offering advice to screenwriters on what to do during and how to handle the writer’s strike. This was a very welcome and much needed webinar, and I’m sure most, if not all, of the other attendees felt the same way.

This felt like one of the most beneficial webinars they ever held. They provided context to the writer’s strike, both in terms of the issues being negotiated for in this latest strike, but also in a historical context, as they had been through several of these strikes in the past.

They also gave an example of acceptable networking that could be done during this time, namely joining other screenwriters who were protesting. Even if you didn’t have your own signs, you could still find locations where writers would be picketing and join them, to show support, and to get to know other writers.

They also gave some of the best advice, which was simply to keep writing.

While the above was the best advice, the most applicable advice they gave for my purposes was to still attend film festivals. There were warnings that they issued. Under no circumstances could I network, bring up that I was a writer looking to make a deal, or negotiate one in any way. But I could still attend them, just as an attendee.

This was small, but it felt big at the time. Like most of their advice, I think it put all of us aspiring screenwriters at ease, getting a better understanding of what we could and could not do while the strike was ongoing. It allowed me to focus on developing a game plan for this next phase in my screenwriting career.

I had already bought tickets for my first film festival, and now felt confident in going without any issues. Tribeca was going to be the following weekend. There weren’t many tickets left, but I did buy one package to go for the last day of the festival. The hope was that this strike could be resolved quickly, allowing me to then network in one of the biggest film festivals in the world.

There weren’t many film festivals local to me, or without a reasonable driving distance after that. I also didn’t want to commit to going to film festivals every weekend, especially if this strike dragged on. But…there was the Toronto International Film Festival three months later. Another of the big film festivals in the world, and one that was relatively reasonable to get to, especially with three months to plan for. Just like with Tribeca, although the strike was going on now, it could be resolved by then, with three months to reach an agreement.

After an unfortunate setback, I now had a plan in place to carry out for the rest of the year.

In my previous post, I mentioned that in addition to entering screenplay competitions, I was going to start attending film festivals, with the goal to start networking. I felt it was a sound plan. I was starting to get results, having both screenplays I had written and entered into contests having placed as a finalist. Now it was about getting the word out about this success.

Unfortunately, there was one problem. And it was kind of a big one.

For the first time in fifteen years, the Writer’s Guild of America had just gone on strike.

While this didn’t bar me from attending the film festivals, it would be career suicide to attempt to network at them. If I did, and it was discovered that I had been working behind the scenes, while writers were holding the line to negotiate better opportunities for everyone, I would be blacklisted by every studio who knew that a deal with me would mean that no other writer in the WGA would work with them.

And this happened right after I bought tickets to attend my first film festival. And with the second I had planned to attend, Tribeca, happening the following weekend.

My plans were coming off the rails before they even began.

I had now entered my script for Dig Down in another round of screenwriting contests, bringing my total entries to six. I felt like I was following the advice and gameplan of many writers before me, to just continually pitch, query and submit their work to as many people and organizations as possible, never being dismayed by any disappointing results, always maintaining the mindset that each submission would get me one step closer toward reaching my goal.

I also felt that just submitting my script into screenplay contests wasn’t enough.

When I was entering screenwriting contests, I had to fill out personal information as part of my submissions, which landed me on several mailing lists. These e-mails focused on providing services for screenwriters, mostly in the form of paid courses. While I wasn’t particularly interested in these paid courses, I was interested in the free seminars they usually held to try and hook potential customers.

One of these free seminars focused on what screenwriters should do to get their work noticed. During the seminar, they mentioned that entering screenplay competitions was a good method, as the writer could use the accolades they received from any contests they had success in.

They also said that film festivals were a great place to network.

This felt like an excellent next step to take in my screenwriting journey. I could continue entering Dig Down into competitions for the rest of the year. But my name would just be text on the cover page of the script. No one would still know who I was.

I changed my focus immediately – from looking for screenplay competitions to enter, to film festivals to attend.

As I was finding more screenplay competitions to enter in search of my first win, I did make one decision that I regret. While I definitely feel I made a mistake with the way I entered into the Scriptapalooza Contest, that was more so in the gaffe I made with my submission, but I did ultimately submit for the services that I wanted to.

The regret I had was with my submission to the Chicago Script Awards.

This is not to say that there was anything wrong with the contest itself. It, like the earlier contests I had entered, offered multiple options for submissions, and while there was nothing inherently wrong with any of them, I do feel what I submitted for wasn’t right.

Let me explain.

The Chicago Script Award had something akin to a general submission for full length features. I found this to be standard among the contests I was entering: there would be entries for full length features, shorts, TV shows, all different types of projects that really needed their own category to fairly judge all the submissions.

Chicago, however, offered a category that wasn’t necessarily offered by all other contests: First Time Screenwriter. Now, given the guidelines for submissions in this category, I should point out that I did qualify. It was for writers who hadn’t had any of their scripts made into a feature length movie already. I believe even if you had a script optioned you couldn’t qualify. So this wasn’t a situation where I explicitly entered a contest I shouldn’t have.

I can even explain my mindset on this entry. In horse racing, owners may have a horse that can compete at a certain level, but not necessarily came away with wins. For example, a horse might have the speed and talent to run a stakes race, but it will rarely get into the winner’s circle. What savvy owners will do when they see this is drop the horse down a level in competition, maybe into something called an allowance race. The winnings from the race won’t be as high, but the competition will be easier, which could lead to more wins.

My thought was that if Dig Down was good enough to place as a finalist against all other entries, I would have a real leg up against first time writers. But I also feel this went against the spirit of this particular category. While its true that I didn’t have a writing credit to my name when it came to scripts, my screenplay for Dig Down now had the extra level of editing and polish thanks to the feedback provided by industry professionals, something other entries were likely not to have. By the standards of the rules for entry it was a level playing field, but it also wasn’t.

More than that though, I also regret it because I felt for the first time in this process, I was selling my script short. I had entered the Page Turner Competition using the option to get feedback and a phone consultation, the most costly option they had, because I believed in my script. And I was proud of the results, placing as a finalist. Entering in the first-time writer category felt like it was betraying that belief, like I was conceding it wasn’t good enough to beat the field, but if I narrowed it to what was likely to be a lot of first-time entrants, even though my script wasn’t a first-time entrant, that I could score a cheap win.

Regardless of whether or not I get a win in any screenwriting contest, I won’t ever enter as a first-time screenwriter again.

I didn’t allow myself any time to dwell on my blunder in entering Scriptapalooza. I didn’t present myself in the most professional light, but after trying to salvage my mistake, I told myself there was nothing more I could do other than wait for the results, and the best thing to focus on was entering Dig Down into more competitions in search of that win.

I ended up entering Dig Down into two additional contests. The first was the Utah Film Festival just two days after I had entered Scriptapalooza. Like I said, I wasn’t wasting any time dwelling on my mistake, instead focusing on the hustle of getting into more contests.

Still not done, and not satisfied that I was getting Dig Down out there enough, I entered the Chicago Script Awards a little over two weeks later.

These entries, along with Scriptapalooza, would be reviewing my latest version of Dig Down, which took into account the extensive notes and suggestions that I had received during my phone consultation, and which had earned me a Finalist placement in the Page Turner Screenplay Competition, which even before the consultation, the judge had made clear was one of the better scripts they’d read for the competition.

I felt really good with how I was placing myself for future success.

I was kicking myself for having to email the Administrator for Scriptapalooza, explaining the possible mistake I had made because even when I called to clarify the entry options, I still hadn’t been sure when I had selected. My lack of understanding led to my having two entries into their contest, and requesting a refund, which just meant more work for them.

I was mortified that I was not putting myself in the best light in the industry.

To try and salvage this, when I emailed them explaining the situation, I made sure to state that I was fully responsible for the mistake. I didn’t blame them for my entering into the contest twice. Also, when I brought up the refund, I posed it as requesting if it was possible to get one. This was my mistake after all, and I feel most competitions make it clear that all entries are final. I first checked to make sure Scriptapalooza didn’t have such language, and then I still only asked if it was possible to get one.

I also made sure to include a screenshot that showed the double entries into their competition. I felt that if a refund option was available, this would be something they would request, and I wanted to have it available for them without asking. The situation was still a result of my mistake, but I was hoping that by doing these things, I might be able to salvage some part of the bad first impression I made in the hopes that with the actions I took after the blunder, they might see me as a professional who just had a bit of bad luck.

There was one last thing I did, in the hopes of tipping the scale somewhat in my favor.

In the screenshot I provided that showed I entered into their contest once, I made sure the screenshot also showed the results I had gotten for my script of Dig Down. As a reminder, at that time, I had placed twice as a finalist in the only two contests that had reached the results phase.

While the subject of my email to them was to ask for a refund for a duplicate entry that I had mistakenly made because I didn’t understand what service I had selected, I was going to make sure they saw that contests who did read my work thought very highly of it.