I can’t remember when I first decided that I wanted to be a writer, but I was a storyteller and proficient liar as far back as I can remember. Whether it was making up a spur of the moment ghost story around the campfire or telling a tall tale to keep out of trouble or becoming High School Newspaper Editor or embellishing a true story in order to give it a little punch — I loved to spin a yarn. I suppose the desire grew out of some form of raw creative talent. And for that I must credit my grandma because every trip to her house resulted in some kind of creative challenge. Her house was always filled with construction paper, glue, glitter, yarn, etc. I remember her writing the alphabet for me then telling me to hide each letter by drawing pictures around it.
From early on I was always a successful liar. At the age of eight, I’d come in from building a fort in the creek with my friends, Brad and Jonathan, I’d be covered in dirt and my mom would ask, “What happened? I would proceed to tell her of the bear I’d barely escaped only to find myself standing face to face with Bigfoot and had it not been for my trusty talents with the Nerf baseball bat I would have certainly been late for dinner. As I aged gracefully my ability to lie got better. I could get out of schoolwork and I could talk my way out of cheating on a girlfriend. I even spun the yarn in college about being a secret FBI agent just to see if I could pull it off — later Bill Paxton played a similar role in “True Lies”. And in some cases the lies proved to be extremely damaging to those I loved. I once told my ex-wife we had been robbed. They got the stereo, several CDs and so on. I’d actually pawned all the stuff because, unknown to her, I wasn’t working and we needed the money. Shocked are you? Well, at least now I can leave out the chapter called, “Why I got divorced.”
The point is, I had some talent. Granted I may have been using it for evil moreso than good but the talent existed in the form of creativity. And in the world of Hollywood you’ll need three things to make it. Talent, Luck and Who you Know.
I clearly had the makings of a first rate geek, but I suppose personality goes a long way. I played football in high school, dated the cheerleader, was Student Council president, etc. A certain level of popularity will always allow a person to get away with random acts of geekiness. My class picture shows me sitting at a typewriter surrounded by Stephen King books (back than I blindly thought I wanted to be a novelist).
In college I was a double major in Marketing and English. I knew I wanted to write but took Marketing in case the all-American novel went belly-up on me. Later in life I learned the hard truth that I didn’t have the patience for the all-American novel. Once I had the story figured out in my head I was too impatient to spend the time writing 600 pages. But the screenplay was something completely different. 110-120 pages? I had the patience for that. I could do that in a weekend.
In ’95 I was living in Dallas with the girl who has since become my wife. And it was there that I bought my first two books on screenplays. One was by Syd Field and the other was a collection of screenplays by Tarantino. Oh, yes, this I could do. I think I wrote my first screenplay in a week. It was horrid, but I didn’t know it back then. I called my best friend’s ex-girlfriend, Robin, who was then, living in LA and pursuing an acting career. She told me about a producer friend of hers who had access to shoot a movie in a castle but had no script. So, by week three I had my second script. I forget all the details, but the castle thing had fallen through by then, so Robin suggested getting the script to a high school buddy of hers by the name of Dean Lorey. Little did I know this was the guy who’d eventually turn my life upside-down. He’s now my best friend.
Dean had written Major Payne for Universal and was currently working on several projects. Dean read my script set in a castle but stopped reading on page 40 when I’d yet to reveal a plot. What he saw was some creativity.
It’s important to note, when I did talk with Dean about the script, he never told me it sucked. He didn’t say, “This thing just rambles on and on and has no plot.” What he did say was, “The creativity is great, the characters are unique, and I think I can help you with the structure.” Had he replied in the typical Hollywood fashion, he very easily could have crushed my dream and I wouldn’t be sitting here writing this. Being a writer himself, he understood how delicate a writer’s ego can be. His approach was not only rare, it’s nearly unheard of.
So, yes, I had some raw talent but I needed honing-bad-and Dean helped me with that. If you can start out with the raw talent and the desire, then you can get better. Stephen King writes everyday — except for his birthday, Christmas and I think one other day that I forget. But he has stated, you can’t write everyday and not get better. Simple logic and obviously true. But the question you gotta ask yourself at some point is “Am I a writer?” Because writers write.
Talent is one of the keys to success as a writer, but if you don’t really write-then it’s not gonna happen. Only reason I mention this is because in Hollywood it certainly seems like, everyone hates the writer. This will sound extremely arrogant but the truth is, we’re the only ones that have to start with nothing. We begin the whole process. We create where everyone else out here builds upon what is already there. And everybody-and I do mean everybody out here thinks they can write. Every producer and/or executive you will meet will consider him or herself a better writer than you. Everyone, right down to the freaking grips will have their opinion on what you should change in your script.
But here’s the deal, writers write. It’s the simply point you gotta remember. I know several executives who left their jobs by choice or by force who then said, “Now I’m going to write my big screenplay.” Great. Go do it. Years later no screenplay evolved. Years later they each returned to the world of either producing or executiving. Writers write. Everyone out here thinks they can write. They think they are better than you but at the end of the day writers write. Are you a writer?
After reading the castle script Dean asked if I had any other ideas. I told him one and we eventually worked out a story. Now, although I was throwing out idea after idea, it was Dean building the structure and by doing so he was teaching me. It was a tough concept to grasp. Now it seems second nature. But back then it was tough although I thought I was amazing at it. I look back on those old scripts and I’m like “Ugh! I sucked!” Well we all sucked when we started out. Talent is one thing but you gotta know how to write for the reader and out here there are rules even though no one will admit it. So, having our story structure developed, I began writing a treatment and he began bombarding me with suggestions to move out to LA.
In May of ’96 I loaded up my old truck with my old computer and some garbage bags full of clothes and trekked West. Shortly after arriving, I met Dean for the first time. Both bald, both possessing that dark, twisted sense of humor, we immediately hated each other. If I had a dime for every time I’d wished him pain then I’d be able to buy Martha Stewart to cook and rub my feet. I jest, we actually became fast friends.
In the 7th grade I ran for Class Representative against Mitch Cothran and Roy Riley. It was acceptable to run around the school making posters and construction paper stick pens asking that your friends elect you. I didn’t put up a poster or make a pin. I figured it was in the bag. Roy won. Broke my heart, even though Roy was a good friend. I decided to learn everyone’s name-and I did. I never lost again. By the time I reached High School, a fella named Paul David and I flipped a coin to see who would run for Student Council President. I won the toss. I ran for Pres, he ran for Vice Pres and we both ran unopposed.
What does any of this have to do with selling your first screenplay? It has everything to do with selling a screenplay! It’s one of the three parts. Talent, Luck and Who You Know. This is the Who You Know part (we’ll come back to luck later).
I’d heard the rumor for years that most writers were introverted. Perhaps. Probably more so in the world of Novels than screenplays though. I know several dozen screenwriters personally. And I can only think of one introvert in the bunch-and sadly, he’s had no success. They also say talent rises to the top. If you can write then eventually you will be discovered-probably true but that’s where luck comes in because unless you have the gift of gab then selling is going to be a struggle.
Dean used to say every meeting is a sells pitch. You are either selling your idea or selling yourself. This is amazingly true. If you don’t have the ability to walk into a room and own it then you’re gonna have it tough. I’ve been told I’m “good in a room”. That’s the term used out here. Mainly by agents but it simply means you have the charismatic ability to win over a crowd with both your personality and ability to tell your story. I was always outgoing, a Scorpio if you are into that sort of thing. And when you enter a room there’s a strong chance that those listening may not be into the story you are there to sell. They may have a similar story in development or they simply might not get it. You may get a “no” or a “pass”. Great, no problem. It’s a numbers game out here. No’s are a part of the business but when you leave the room you want them to remember you. You’re take or approach may not have been what they were looking for but the next time a project comes across their desk you want them to think of you.
If you go into a room as a introvert then your chances of being remembered are very few.
Take some of my friends as an example. Dean Lorey is an extrovert. He, like myself, took part in theatrical plays in high school and college. He knows how to work a room. When we first met he had credits consisting of “My Boyfriend’s Back”, “Jason Goes to Hell” and “Major Payne”. He was currently doing rewrites on “Nothing to Lose” and “George of the Jungle” as well as a few movies that didn’t end up getting produced including “They” for Ron Howard and “Doom” (based on the old first-person shooter) for Ivan Reitman. Over the years he has done dozens of rewrites and is now an executive producer on the sit-com “My Wife and Kids” with Damon Wayans. Dean knows how to work a room.
Kurt Wimmer had written and/or directed a couple of b-movies. Kurt looks like Jon Bon-Jovi. He’s confident and talented. He has since written “The Thomas Crown Affair”, “The Recruit”, wrote and directed Christian Bale in “Equalibrium” and is currently shooting “Ultraviolet” with Milla Jovovich. Kurt knows how to work a room.
Patrick Lussier started out as an editor on “MacGyver” I think it was. He’s edited “Scream”, “New Nightmare”, “H20”, “Music of the Heart”, nearly all of Wes’s movies. He moved into directing with one of the “Prophecy” sequels as well is writing and directing “Dracula 2000” and its two sequels. Patrick and I are currently pitching a ghost story around town and I can assure you, he knows how to work a room.
Jonathan Hensleigh started out writing for Lucas and Spielberg on the “Indian Jones Chronicals” and his first big movie was “Die Hard with a Vengeance” based on a spec he’d written. He’s since written “Jumanji”, “Armageddon”, “The Rock” and just wrapped production as both writer and director of “The Punisher”. Hensleigh knows how to work a room.
And working the room directly impacts Who You Know. Will they remember you? Will you make an impact even if they don’t like you for their current project. You have got to have a huge ego to be a writer because you are going to get no after no. You are basically walking into a room, dropping your pants and laying it out on the conference room table for all to see-at which point they will proceed to tell you everything that is wrong with your penis. You gotta have the ego to overcome that. At the same time you gotta know when to back down and be humble. It’s the hardest battle of the screenwriter.
So after we had determined that I had some talent Dean introduced me to the SpeakEasy. It’s a hole in the wall bar in Santa Monica. Juke box, Southern Comfort and a couple of pool tables. The SpeakEasy is one of two things: the stuff dreams are made of or the stuff hangovers are made up. I remember one night, we and a couple of buddies started out there where we put away a bottle of So Co and a number of MGDs only to end up at one of the local strip joints. I recall the first girl taking the stage and then my somehow spending the rest of the night hiding in the bathroom stall waiting for the inevitable prayers to the porcelain god.
I vaguely remember the guys nearly getting into a fight because another of the joint’s patrons needed to make a poopie and I refused to leave the stall. Somehow we got out alive and ended up back at Dean’s. The others went home but I was way too far gone to drive. So, Dean fixed me up a pleasant little spot on the couch and although it was a sleeping arrangement built for a king, strangely enough, it was that cold tile floor in the bathroom that kept calling my name. I staggered my way toward the dark beauty and sprawled out spread eagle on those heavenly sent cool tiles. The tantalizing scent of Scrubbing Bubbles, the angelic visions of Y.E. Coyote sitting atop a boulder as it plummeted to ravine below, it was dreamy, euphoric. I could feel that alcoholic poison slowly fading from my blood stream.
That’s when Dean barreled in like Quasimodo on crack and drug me back to that damnable couch. If it had have been snowing and if I could have stood and if I’d known Karate, then I’d have Carrie-Anne Moss’ed his butt into the back yard and made him eat yellow snow. But as it was, I gritted my teeth and waited for him to just go away. When he did, I summoned some of that Jack Burton courage from Little China and unless my memory is slightly clouded, I’m fairly certain I levitated back into the bathroom. It was Shangra La, El Dorado, Xanadu, the last ten minutes of the A-Team. The plan had come together and I was victorious, when — “Hey. Come on, I can’t let you sleep on the bathroom floor.”
Who was this guy?! The vinyl flooring police?! Was his bedroom wired with surveillance monitors?! Did he have no heart? No soul? This was clearly no mere mortal, this was Satan and I’d bought the farm while sitting on that nasty strip club toilet and this was my hell.
Well, I eventually sobered up and we moved on to business. We finalized the treatment and it was time to start on the script. Since I was living with Robin (our mutual friend who’d introduced me to Dean) until I found a place of my own, I didn’t really have a place to set up my computer. Dean offered me his office at Universal. He had an office at home and spent most of his time writing there. So, I took him up on the offer and started writing the script.
It was a thousand dollar option against 200 grand. Dean paid me half up front. And I do mean up front. I had the first check before I started writing. I’ve since learned that this never ever happens. Once you’ve agreed on commencement, don’t expect payment for 30 to 90 days. Normally you’ll finish the script long before you get the money. Your agent will then have to call the studio and say, “He’s finished the script. We’d love to send it to you if we could get some money.”
And, of course, when you turn in the script is when you are supposed to get your next check. Don’t expect that for another 30 to 90 days. And the slow process will continue through the polish. Odd that they can’t write a check in the amount of time that it takes us to develop and write 110 pages, but that’s how it works. When I turned my first pass into Dean, he paid me that day. He’s one of the few I have met who paid as it’s supposed to be. Although Revolution Studios was always pretty quick with payments.
Dean had optioned the script. Thus he paid me a chunk of money to write it against a bigger chunk if the movie goes into production. That’s pretty standard for an option. An option can be as little as a dollar or as much as your agent can get. There are no rules. But, once I was finished I had no idea what to do next. So, here’s where I devised my brilliant plan. I called Dean and we returned to the SpeakEasy. That night, after a couple of shots and a number of MGDs I said, “So, what are we gonna work on next?” And he told me an idea he’d had for awhile. Within a week we had a new option and I was working on the treatment for a new script.
When that script was written and polished, I figured since it worked so well the first time, let’s try it again. Back to the SpeakEasy and the inevitable, “So, what are we gonna work on next?” This is when he told me about Sean Cunningham. Sean was the director of the original Friday the 13th. Dean wrote his first two produced movies for Sean as well as worked for Sean as a writer for a couple of years. Dean had yet another idea for a script. His plan: We would develop the story together, I’d write the script, Sean would produce and Dean would direct.
Sean had an office at home, built over the garage, where he, his son and assistants were developing scripts as well as working on the infamous Freddy vs Jason. The three of us met and eventually I started writing my third script for money. Over time I eventually ended up signing a contract with Sean to write originals and rewrites over the following three years. Since the offices were too loud for my liking I ended up writing from a makeshift office in the maid’s room.
Over the three years I worked on everything Sean wanted to pursue. Most were dramas. It wasn’t my strongest of the genres but Sean was the boss. I adapted a couple of books to screenplays. Did a draft of “Freddy vs. Jason”. And several rewrites of old scripts Sean had on his shelf. I personally think we made some mistakes. When Dean was with Sean they worked on horror movies. Sean’s reputation was in horror and Hollywood likes putting all of us in a nice neat little slot. However, most of the scripts I was writing for Sean were dramas. One, he had no reputation in drama and two, I was a new writer who’s talents were better suited for Action, Horror or Thriller. Three years came and went. We were unable to set up anything. Either they didn’t take us seriously or they didn’t like my writing. Whatever the reason, we made no movies in that time and the depression around the office was pretty obvious.
The whole time “Freddy vs. Jason” was right in the middle of development hell. Several times over the years we’d talked about perhaps doing a “Friday the 13th” movie with just Jason while the “Freddy vs. Jason” development continued. The grunts and I in the office felt it would be a much better sell then the dramas we’d been pushing. But Sean really loved drama. But eventually even he caved. We started talking Jason Voorhees and within a few months we had a script and a greenlight at New Line.
Luck. I said I’d come back to it. When I was a kid, my uncle, a pretty good softball player, once said that he knew guys who were good enough to play major league ball but never would because they didn’t have the opportunity. They either didn’t know the right people or didn’t have the luck to be in the right place. That stuck with me.
If you’ve managed to weed through the above then the luck should be apparent. Both good and bad luck. Lucky I went to college with a guy who knew Robin who in turn knew Dean Lorey. Lucky Dean and I hit it off. Lucky I was born with a little talent. Lucky I was good in a room. Unlucky that we spent three years on dramas. Unlucky that none of those made any impact. Lucky that New Line opted to make the 10th “Friday the 13th” movie. Unlucky that it sat on a shelf for two years. Unlucky that it changed so much in production. Unlucky that it didn’t do great at the box office. Lucky that I later wrote a good spec. Lucky that the spec got me an agent. Lucky that the spec sold.
Talent, Luck and Who You Know.
My foot was solidly placed in the Hollywood door.
Talent, luck and Who You Know. There are a hundred ways to break into the business, and whatever your story, if you’ve done it then I’ll bet those three keys were a factor. If you’re still struggling or if you’ve hit some walls then consider buying Dean Lorey a beer or two. Worked for me.