Zen and the Stages of Screenwriting Growth: Master Level, Stage 5

It takes a lot of work, patience, resilience, years, and luck to make it to the final stage of screenwriting.

            The "Master Stage."

We're talking about writers like the Coen Brothers, Stanley Kubrick, Woody Allen, Pedro  Almodóvar, Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, Francis Coppola, Jane Campion, David Lynch, Paddy Chayefsky, Nora Ephron, Billy Wilder, James Cameron, and Quentin Tarantino.

The funny thing about the way this process often starts for us—is that as rookies we often choose one of these guys—the proven Gods of Cinema—as the writer we want to emulate . We don’t mess around with truly gifted writers who do "just fine"—like Nancy Meyers or Joss Whedon. We want to be great! Really great!

We all have that favorite film that got us interested usually made by one of the masters—The Godfather, Citizen Kane, 2001: A Space Odyssey, The Piano, Fargo.

When we start out we’ve got to be the next Copploa, or Tarantnio. Five years later, we just want to be Nancy Meyers or Joss Whedon. We pray we can only be as successful as those guys.

The true master screenwriters rise up out of the ranks of the best professionals. These writers realize it’s about always moving forward. They don’t stop learning because they’ve been produced. They don’t stop writing because they’ve hit a wall.

They realize that writing is a marathon, not a sprint. They know how track the market and to stay relevant.  Along the way, they’ve learned to reinvent themselves, to stay in touch with changing tastes and trends. They make a point of figuring out how to remain employed for ten, twenty years.

They’ve learned to network, and more importantly to create relationships—and there is a big difference.

And through it all they keep getting better at writing. They find ways to improve; they join writer’s groups, they take more classes, they crave more feedback, and they set higher goals.

They meet with other professional writers, discuss their projects, and keep shooting for the next level. Some move into producing, or directing, which can make them better writers still.

They choose to write about universal, important, relatable themes like freedom, isolation, corruption, oppression, love and loss—and they also find something completely original to say about those issues.

What truly sets them apart from the rest is the ability to move audiences—to tears, to laughter—to both, and to win over their hearts and minds, to create a spiritual experience simply by weaving a series of scenes together in a darkened theater.

They create a movie-going experience that stays with the viewer. Their films are studied as works of art. They become a part of a greater legacy—of film history. Their works are still able to move audiences who see them decades later. Their writing, like a great novelist’s, is timeless. It translates across language and culture.

The path to becoming the master screenwriter stretches long and far—it takes patience. It can take as long as ten years—or more. However, I don’t believe it has to. The more you know—the faster your progress will be.

Now you know what to expect. That’s a huge advantage in a town where writers are mostly guessing what their next move is.

Stay open to feedback, ask other writers how they would make your stories better, learn from others how to make the fixes that will make your screenplays better, and have patience and persevere. Know that for every Tarantino, there was a Kubrick ahead of him. Find your inspiration—and be smart about how you follow their path.

Should you reach this stage, and I hope you do—there will be perks. You'll be famous, wealthy, respected—and some things will come easier. Setting up meetings with agents, producers, actors, and directors shouldn't be difficult. More people will answer your calls. Selling your scripts will probably be easier.

However, the actual act of  screenwriting will not magically get easier. There are still going to be problems. You're still going to get studio notes, though probably not as many. Some people will still say your writing sucks.

You're still going to complain about changes to your scripts, or lousy casting or disappointing box office. They're still going to complain about the blank page. No matter who you are and what you've accomplished—some things never change.

David Silverman, LMFT, treats anxiety and depression, especially in highly sensitive individuals in his LA practice. Having experienced the rejection, stress, creative blocks, paralyzing perfectionism, and career reversals over a 25 year career as a Film/TV writer, he’s uniquely suited to work with gifted, creative, and sensitive clients experiencing anxiety, depression, and addiction. David received training at Stanford and Antioch, is fully EMDR certified, and works with programs treating Victims of Crime and Problem Gamblers. Visit www.DavidSilvermanLMFT.com.