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After an exciting Friday of script analysis and feedback, it was time to get to work. While the three screenplays I had entered all had various final deadlines for resubmissions, the contest with the most promise, Page Turner, also had the earliest.

For the next 17 days, I was under the gun.

The first thing I felt I needed was to be able to have the entire script in front of me at once. While I could skip to wherever I wanted to in the screenplay with the software I was using, I could still only view one, maybe two, pages at a time. I felt it would be important to be able to look at multiple pages throughout the script where a character showed up to see if they were always adding new information or advancing the story. I wanted to make sure details or actions I gave didn’t become repetitive. I wanted something that I could mark up with notes.

And…I suppose I wanted to feel like I was working with an actual script, something tangible that I could have in hand, flip through.

I have the worst luck with printers, probably because I always splurge on the cheap models at Walmart. And this time was no exception. Hey, I didn’t need top of the line quality, I just needed something that could get the job done today.

After a brief excursion to buy a new one, I got to work right away. I made notes on everything in the script that had come up in the phone consultation the day before: recording the number of flashbacks, recording the number of speeches, recording the number of long action paragraphs, recording the number on oners (lines in a paragraph that only had a word or two). All of the problematic things that were brought up in the consultation, and the other two notes of feedback from the other contests, those were singled out with a red pen.

I also made notes of every character’s intro, and ideas I had to improve them if I felt they were weak. I made notations for where I felt I could incorporate some of the other feedback I had gotten.

I had a hard time sitting still, partly because I always do, but also because I was excited. It might sound crazy, going through your work and highlighting all the problems with it, but I thought it was great. Everything I found felt like it was bringing me one step closer to improving the script, and bringing it into the best shape it could be.

It probably took me over three hours to go through the entire script this way. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was four. And I definitely felt like I had put in all I could after reviewing, analyzing and pinpointing all the examples of weak points that the judge’s had spotted in my script. But I also felt really accomplished.

Even though it wasn’t the two and a half hour positive phone consultation from the day before, I felt this was the second day in a row I’d made great strides in my writing career. Even as I shut down for the day to relax and get ready for tomorrow, my mind kept churning out more and more ideas of how to take the notes I was given and improve my script.

For the second night in a row, when my head hit the pillow, I couldn’t wait to get back to work tomorrow.

This felt almost incredible. In late January of last year, I had entered my script for Dig Down into three screenplay competitions, and in just over a month, and in about the span of one week, I had gotten my notes on all of them.

I was still coming off of the high of how great my first ever consultation had gone for my script, and yes, I still felt elated, even after the notes I had gotten from the Santa Barbara Screenplay Competition. Writing this story was still a journey, even though I had already published it four years ago, because I had taken up adapting it into a new medium, and I felt it was important to recognize the high points along that journey.

But not to dwell on them.

Tomorrow I would need to get back to work. And from the notes I had gotten from the three competitions, I had my work cut out for me. Yes, the notes had been positive. Even the Santa Barbara feedback had still scored my script a 79. I did feel it could be higher, but I also recognized there was room for improvement, and there definitely were critiques that I agreed with.

The thing to do now was to take stock of all that feedback. My purpose for entering multiple contests was to get a collective, objective opinion on it – both good and bad – to narrow down what worked and what didn’t. If I entered just one, I risked making revisions based on the whims and preferences of one judge. But with multiple sets and sources of notes, I could hone in on the similarities, prioritize those, and then take on the remarks and comments that only appeared in one set of feedback based on how I felt they would impact the story.

I also had to be cognizant of the deadlines that the three competitions had. While they were running concurrently, they each had their own final submission dates. Both Page Turner and Santa Barbara had only a few weeks remaining – for Page Turner I only had 17 days left to submit a revised draft – but I still had a month with Finish Line.

I decided to prioritize Page Turner, both because I had gone the extra step and had a phone consultation to cover my script, and because there was a lot of overlap between the feedback from them and Finish Line, and I felt addressing Page Turner would also cover a large part of the revisions for Finish Line.

It was Santa Barbara that I chose to forego. There deadline was a little after Page Turner, and while some of their feedback was similar, I felt it raised points and areas of improvement that didn’t mesh with the other two contests, and given the timeframe I had to work within, I didn’t think I could make revisions that took the script in two different directions – it wasn’t exactly like creating two completely different versions, but it would be tailoring two different drafts of the same story to submit to two different contests – wasn’t the best use of my time.

I was essentially opting to sacrifice the results of one contest to improve my chances with the other two.

With a gameplan in place to work on my revisions, the next thing to do would be to prioritize the feedback to address. And as my head hit the pillow for the night, I resolved that the following morning, I would start to analyze my script.

There was one category that I had excluded from sharing the notes on in my previous post: Dialogue. I stated that I withheld it for a week because I wanted to address the comment made by the judge in it, and the post was already long. I believe in being transparent about my writing career, but I also felt that because this was the once section of the judge’s notes that I planned on responding to, that it would be better to separate it out into its own post that focused on: 1) the feedback itself, and 2) my response to it.

Here is the comment I received for the Dialogue category of Dig Down:

This is the element of the script that needs the most work. Rob’s voiceover feels unnecessary. Much of his can be cut. Or, if he’s going to have novel-like interior monologues, they should have a poetic quality (as in Taxi Driver and Clockwork Orange). As it is, it feels like he’s going over his to-do list for the sake of the audience. Expository dialogue also occurs in the exchanges between Rob and Preston. They spend a lot of time unpacking past history. The scenes should focus on the present-tense conflict between the two men, while the story of Rob’s destruction of the company could be shown rather than told. Finally, anything that might be perceived as racist needs to be looked at closely. Colorful slang and grammatical errors are fine, but “Black” dialect spelled out phonetically is no longer acceptable. Lines like “WHAY HE GO? WHAY
THAT MO-FUCKA GO?” need to be revised or cut.

My response is solely in regard to the final note that the judge made, which I feel takes the example line they gave in the final sentence as an example of “Black” dialect. I do agree with that this kind of dialect is not longer acceptable, and will even take it a step further and say it was never acceptable. But I take huge exception to the implication that this type of dialect was being used here.

For starters, unless I specified it in the story, either in the book or screenplay, I don’t assign a race or skin color to any of my characters in any story I write. Rocco is Italian, Axel and Vicky are of Swedish heritage, and the sicarios are from Mexico. I specified these backgrounds to create a sense that the crimes taking place in Dig Down had a global impact and involved many parties: the government, international companies, drug cartels, and the mob. Specifying this aspect of some characters made sense to me because I believed it served the story to show why there was such a widespread manhunt for the main character Rob.

The character with this line is referred to as The Shark in both the book and the script. The only character description I gave for him in the script was: a loan shark toughened by a life on the street, flashes Rob a sickeningly toothy grin. This description occurs on page 3 of the script. This description was nearly identical to the one I gave for the character in the book on page 6, which reads: “Then he looked up at the loan shark he’d borrowed money from, flashing him that sickeningly tooth grin of his.” I tweaked the description slightly for the screenplay because the medium requires actions to be written in present tense, and the sentences need to be snappier in a script so the readers can digest the story quicker.

In neither version is there any reference to the character’s race, only their life history in the screenplay, that they had a hard life on the street. I felt the image of being hardened by life would help evoke how this character became a loan shark. Again, I felt it would help serve the story. In the context of the story, Rob’s face is plastered all over the news, his friends have abandoned him, and his assets are frozen. Needing to escape, I didn’t believe he would turn to a bank to get money. I don’t even give the character’s real name in either version. The story is told from Rob’s point of view, and its implied in both versions Rob never bothered to learn it because he never planned on paying the loan shark back. I bring this up to illustrate that The Shark could be anybody who had a rough upbringing that led them to a life of crime. This isn’t exclusive to any race, nationality or anyone’s skin color, which is why I feel it was inappropriate for the judge to assume The Shark was using a “Black” dialect for that line, and I’ll return to that point in a moment.

Furthermore, as I said, unless specified, I don’t assign a race to any of my characters. So when I read this portion of the feedback, it made me wonder about how the judge perceived two of the main characters – Rob and Preston. The description I gave for Rob was: a mid-thirties, panicky businessman. The description I gave Preston was: a sickly old man still grasping onto the strength of his youth. The conversation they have through most of the story boils down to a father wanting his son to apply himself more. This is a concept that I feel is universal, and I don’t see how this or either of the character descriptions could be applied exclusively to one group. I would hope that when anyone reads the book, or auditions for the role of these characters, that they could envision themselves as any of these characters.

Lastly, I took exception to the line of dialogue the judge used to make his point. This is not the first line of dialogue the character has. The first line The Shark has, in both the book and screenplay, is “Knew you’d be coming here eventually.”

I hope you feel this is a sharp contrast to the line the judge referenced to make their point. The Shark has 12 blocks of dialogue prior to the line the judge commented on, and they’re written similarly to the line I referenced. In those 12 dialogue blocks, The Shark conveys a sense of savviness. Just with the line “Knew you’d be coming here eventually,” he’s the only one involved in the manhunt of Rob who actually figured out where he would be, and got the drop on him. In the remaining eleven dialogue blocks, he conveys that he figured out Rob was planning on skipping town with the money he borrowed and had no plans on paying him back, and that he was proactive in making plans of his own, hopefully delivering exposition of Rob’s predicament in a way that felt natural. He uses words like ‘ain’t’ and ‘didja’, but I don’t think it approaches anything close to the type of dialogue that the judge mentioned.

The example the judge referenced is one of four, much shorter dialogue blocks, and they’re the last four things that The Shark says before he exits the story. I’m hoping that you might be asking yourself what made the dialogue used by The Shark go from the example I used to the example the judge used.

Here is the passage in the script that’s between the 12 dialogue blocks that are written like the example I gave, and the 4 dialogue blocks that are written the way the judge referenced:

Rob LUNGES ahead a step. Turns. Swings the suitcase at The Shark.

The Shark turns around just in time for the case to connect square with his face. Crumples into a heap in the street.

And shortly after, Rob says this:

How is he even awake right now? Sounds like I broke his jaw.

The line that the judge referenced wasn’t a decision to apply a dialect of any particular race – in the middle of a scene, no less – but to drive home the point that the character’s jaw had been broken. The reason for the change in the way The Shark was speaking was that I felt with a broken jaw, they would have trouble enunciating, and to go along with that, wherever I could, I dropped consonants like R, S and T. I did use a TH sound, but that was so the audience might be able to somewhat decipher or grasp what The Shark was trying to say. Having The Shark struggle with enunciating was important to the scene – again, I make decisions that I feel serve the story – because cops had arrived on the scene, and if The Shark was able to clearly state “Rob Moore is here” the man whose been all over the news and that there is a manhunt for, the cops would start looking for Rob, whereas if he was incoherent, this would give Rob a chance to escape.

One of the other four dialogue blocks where The Shark is talking like this is: OB! OB MOE! OB MOE IS HEE! (Notice I dropped the R’s in every word, but you still might be able to decipher it as “Rob! Rob Moore! Rob Moore is here!”). This led to the cops, later in the same scene, asking what they thought The Shark was saying, and even though they drew the conclusion I just shared, they also give an explanation why they didn’t believe him.

This is all to say that I took exception to the judge’s conclusion and comments about the dialogue for this particular instance. The character was talking one way and then changed their diction more than halfway through the same scene, and rather that express why this didn’t work for them, or question or even acknowledge what might have spurred this change midway through the scene, they cherry picked one of the dialogue blocks, seemingly assigned a race to a character and described it as problematic. The last thing I’ll say is that the judge’s own feedback says “…anything that might be perceived as racist needs to be looked at closely.” I agree with this, but I question to the point of doubting that the judge actually looked at the switch in the way this character talked to determine why, as the examples I cited in this posts all happen within a half page, both leading up to and in the immediate aftermath of the change to the way this character spoke.

Sorry if you found this post exceptionally long. It is one of, if not the longest, I’ve written, but I hope you understand why I felt the need to address this, and why I initially withheld it from the previous post because I wanted to respond to the feedback.

Despite this post, I did find the judge’s overall feedback and notes fair, and my disagreeing with some notes I receive wasn’t unheard of prior to these comments. I think its natural to have some disagreements over feedback, maybe even some pushback, but its important to never lose sight that this is always meant to help improve your work.

Until next time.

Hello everyone.

These were the notes I received for the categories Dig Down was judged on when I submitted my script to the Santa Barbara Screenplay Competition:

Comments:
Concept/Originality
DIG DOWN is a bold and pulse-pounding take on the last-man-standing crime subgenre.
With its cast of reprehensible characters trying to annihilate one another, it could appeal
to audiences that enjoy films like City on Fire and Reservoir Dogs. However, for the
script to really stand out it will need an extra dash of style and idiosyncrasy.

Structure
The dual time frame structure works well. The tension remains tight in the present-tense
manhunt story while the audience learns, through flashbacks, how the protagonist got into
this mess in the first place. The flashbacks themselves could use more structure. The
scenes that focus on the father and son unpacking the past are less energetic than the
scenes that show the younger Rob in action. The scene with Rob in the club, for example
(page 20), works well. We see that he’s striking out, down on himself, and susceptible to
Axel’s seduction. More flashbacks of Rob playing Faust to Axel’s devil, getting in deeper
and deeper, and finally being unable to stop the machine he has set in motion, would give
the story a stronger spine.

Plot
The plot is carefully constructed, with two bracingly unpredictable twists. The
denouement is satisfying and all the setups of the first two acts pay off enjoyably at the
end. This is one of those rare screenplays in which there are no significant plot holes that
need repairing. However, the plot sometimes takes center stage, with detailed
explanations of what happened and what’s supposed to happen next. Some of this can be
scaled back, and more emphasis added to the relationships. In particular, Rob’s
relationships with the women in his life should be more fully developed.

Pacing
The high-octane action sequences are tightly paced and suspenseful. The momentum
stalls during some of the standoffs, when the characters have guns trained on each other
and we’re waiting for the balance of power to shift. These scenes could be condensed or
leavened with humor and character quirks. The pace needs to accelerate somewhat in the
last 10 pages. Once we learn that Rob has murdered his own father, the audience will no
longer be rooting for him. We’ll want him to get his comeuppance. It’s time to wrap it up.

Characters
Rob is a compelling, ambiguous main character, but his personality needs to be fleshed
out more fully. Antiheroes are tricky. The audience needs to perversely identify with
them. If we really see the younger Rob at his lowest moment, we’d follow his rise and
demise with more empathy (Arthur Fleck in Joker is a good example). Or if he were truly
an evil genius, he would earn the admiration, if not the moral approval, of the audience.
For example, in the scene where he murders his father with a blunt instrument. Preston is
already in failing health, and Rob could find a way to dispatch him and make it look
natural. The parade of violent antagonists is fun to watch, and the action descriptions are
effective at conveying their scariness. They could be even more memorable with some
oddities or comical character quirks of the kind found in Tarantino and Martin
McDonagh’s dark comedies.

Tone
The mix of suspense, action, and fish-out-of-water comedy makes the script highly
entertaining. The darkening of the tone in the last act works well, with unexpected but
believable twists driving the finale. One thing the writer can do to enhance the tone
would be to give a clearer sense of the locale. Tempe, Arizona is an inspired choice for a
film noir, and the action descriptions could evoke the feeling of desert nights, suburban
developments, rock formations, etc. Much of this will be decided during the filming, but
a screenplay can convey the visual style of the film. Breaking Bad is a good example.
The Southwest setting helps bolster the show’s neo-Western tone.

Conflict
The basic conflict keeps the story moving. Rob is constantly in danger and repeatedly
thwarted in his efforts to escape. The father-son conflict feels less focused. They go back
and forth, each blaming the other for what went wrong. A stronger choice would be to
show how powerful an influence Preston had on young Rob. A colder or more imposing
father figure (Vito Corleone, Logan Roy in Succession) would help explain why Rob
seeks approval while at the same time seething with resentment. Tension is at its highest
when Rob is active and staying one step ahead of his enemies. The shopping mall scene,
for example, is very well executed. Some of this tension could also be enhanced in some
of the fight sequences. Rob mostly gets beaten down unrelentingly until someone
intervenes. If he were to find some way to turn the tables, only to see them turn again, the
tussles would be more suspenseful.

Emotional Response/Investment
In the first two acts, Rob’s non-stop fight for survival keeps the audience involved.
However, even before the twist ending the audience will stop rooting for Rob. He’s
unsympathetic in the sense that he’s only trying to save his own skin. He never thinks
about putting things right or redeeming himself. He plans to take Vicky with him but
seems not to trust her or have much respect for her. The stakes would be raised if he and
Vicky were head over heels in love. They may be at odds with society but will do
anything for each other (Mickey and Mallory in the original Natural Born Killers
screenplay is a good example of this).

Marketplace Potential
There’s always an audience for crime dramas with plenty of action and colorful,
desperate characters. Again, enhancing the particular quirks of the characters and the
writer’s sense of humor and style will enhance the film’s cult-audience potential.

I have included the feedback I received on all of the categories except Dialogue. While there were fair points made in all of the categories, there was one note that I need to address, and rather than include the comment and my response in an already long post, I have instead separated it for now but will include the feedback, as well as my thoughts, next time.

The feedback and notes came in one big wave. After submitting to three different competitions at roughly the same time, in a two to three day span, the timetables for responses lined up relatively the same. I was still riding the high of the great phone call I had for my first ever script consultation for Dig Down, so I was eager to see if yet another outside source had a similar positive response to my script.

Unlike the other contests, this actually broke down the analysis into categories and provided a score. Below is how the initial draft I submitted fared:

Scores:
Concept/Originality (6)
Structure (8)
Plot (8)
Pacing (9)
Characters (7)
Dialogue (7)
Tone (8)
Conflict (8)
Emotional Response/Investment (7)
Marketplace Potential (8)

There were notes that went along with these scores, but because there is a lot to unpack with the comments, I will share the contents of the feedback next time.

I was beyond thrilled after getting off the line of my first ever script consultation. So much so I couldn’t sit still and stay cooped up inside.

It was still early March, and upstate New York, but I needed to get outside for a walk. I don’t know if I even put on a coat, or if I even needed one. The overflow of positivity and all the ideas that I had taken away from the consultation was all I could focus on – and was more than enough to keep me warm.

Not only had the consultation been an absolute success, I felt my whole plan to use the screenplay competitions to hone in on areas that needed improvement was coming to fruition. Both contests had identified some weaknesses in my script, and although I had already been brainstorming ideas based on the notes from Finish Line Competition, the consultation with Page Turners had reinforced those thoughts, and had planted the seeds for all new ones.

After a quick breather away from my script, my first order of business was going to be to print it out and make notes on every point we had gone over during the phone call. I was just so energized from the call I couldn’t believe that it was already evening, and that the sun would be going down soon.

This was just such a high point in my writing career.

And while I was on this walk, I checked my email…

In my inbox was the notes from the final screenplay competition I had entered.