Dispatch from The Quest: Scott Reynolds

Last week as we did here on GITS, the Quest writers focused on the fourth week of Prep. Today’s dispatch: Scott Reynolds writes about script notes:

I think one of the hardest things to get used to about trying to build a career in the entertainment industry is learning how to take notes.

In the Before Time, when I was a top-dog software developer type guy, I didn’t get notes. I did my thing. If someone tried to give me notes, oof. Heads up guys, Scott’s on the warpath. “How DARE you!”, I would think, as I stared deeply into the very soul of the offender, using as much of my psychic powers as I could to send the person straight to Hell*. A note would have seemed like nothing more than cruel criticism aimed at ME, not my work.

Now? So. Many. Notes. Just over the course of this weekend I’ve gotten notes on an improv performance, a new stand-up bit, and stuff I’ve written for The Quest. There’s no thrill quite like being super proud of your work, showing it to the world, and having the world say back “super fun…but what if…”.

That’s the nature of entertainment though. It’s a collaborative process. Even if you work alone, you’re working with your audience. More often than not, especially if you’re writing a movie or a television show, or performing on an improv team, or working on a sketch comedy show, you’re going to get notes from someone. A studio executive. A producer. Your director. The theater’s Artistic Director. Your team coach. Your writing partners. The people you trust to workshop your stuff. You’re going to get notes.

Notes is good. I say “is” because the *concept* of notes is good. The purpose of it is good. Not all individual notes are good. Some are awful. Some are hurtful. But some are so incredibly valuable that you can’t believe the person who gave you the note is giving you this idea for free.

Notes help you refine your stuff. Notes help you see things from a different perspective. Notes help you understand what someone who consumes your work might be thinking, which is not always what you as a creator are thinking. Notes can bring up great ideas. Notes can make you cry. Notes can make you eat a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Coffee Heath Bar Crunch. Notes toughen you up for the long and arduous road ahead in the entertainment industry.

It’s kind of a hard thing to get used to at first. No matter how prepared you think you are to get notes, it will feel personal for a while. Maybe forever. But the more open you are to the process, the better your psyche will be.

Since you didn’t ask, here are my notes on how to take and give notes:

• Just take the note. Don’t be defensive. Take it. Consider it. Do whatever with it later, but at least be open to considering it.
• You don’t ever have to *implement* the note. But you’re doing your work a disservice if you don’t think about it. For real.
• Sometimes the note is a note that means another note. Look for the note beyond the surface. The root note. Maybe the note that “the dog should be a talking dog” really means that your story needs something else.
• If you trust someone to give you notes, and ask them to give you notes, don’t get mad at them for giving you notes. Don’t make them feel bad for giving you notes.
• NEVER give unsolicited notes to a friend. This is nearly a concrete rule in improv — you never give another performer notes. This is why improv teams have coaches, even if they are all amazing improvisers themselves. The coach gives the notes and everyone still loves each other. Same goes for your writer friends. Keep it to yourself unless they ask.
• If someone asks you to read a script, find out what kind of notes they want before giving them. Sometimes people just want you to say what you like. Sometimes they just want you to tell them about their typos.
• Give good notes. Give notes as if it’s your work and you want it to be amazing. This is your karma. Don’t shortchange your friends. Be giving, and so will they.
• Seriously. Just take the note. If you’re not defensive right off the bat, you might be surprised at what you learn. You can always ignore the note later.
• Remember that entertainment is for an audience. You’re not your audience. You’d probably benefit from outside points of view.
• The note is nearly never personal. It’s about the work. I promise. Don’t feel bad. Don’t beat yourself up with thoughts of “oh I’m stupid I should have thought of that.” You’ll think of plenty of things on your own, so don’t sweat it.
• No, but seriously. Just take the note. Shhhhhhhhh. Stop defending yourself. It makes everyone uncomfortable.

*I can only assume I have the power to do this. I never got noted during those days, so I never actually tried it out on anyone.

I have already made my feelings known about script notes meetings here. Oftentimes you actually get good notes. Other times… not so much. The simple fact is a screenwriter needs to develop the ability to hear, accept and incorporate notes… as painful as that experience might be. Scott Reynolds is smart enough to learn that lesson now. How about you?

More from Scott. Here is a recent stand-up set he did in NYC:

Good stuff. And note the callback at the end!

Tomorrow: Another Dispatch from The Quest.

About Scott: Brooklyn based writer and comedian who bailed on software to focus on writing words that humans could read. Twitter: @scottadhoc.

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