Dispatches From The Front Line: Nicholas James West [Part 1]

Some time ago, I made this offer: If you are in the process of breaking into the entertainment business, contact me. I will consider posting your saga as part of the Dispatches from the Front Line series.

Like Nick [Nicholas James] West. He has been a long-time GITS follower. After many years of effort, Nick had a breakthrough in 2012. Here is Part One of his Dispatch:

Note: This mostly takes place in Salt Lake City, Utah.

2007–2011: Origin story short: Decided I wanted to be a writer. Self published some comic books. Sold a couple stories. Adapted a indie-horror into a comic book. Fell in love with the format for screenplays. Never looked back.

Wrote my first screenplay. Thought I was going to film it myself. Realized it sucked. Dove into learning more about the craft.

Now, keep in mind, those two short paragraphs represent five years of hard work, studying, pitching, learning the ropes, sleepless nights, and a divorce. And guess what kids? It never ends. There’s no gold at the end of the rainbow. Only more work. (Okay, if you play it right, maybe there is a little gold.)

2011: Took a screenwriting class from indie-auteur Richard Dutcher. Impressed him with a horror/comedy feature.

I used the knowledge I had gained, thus far, to help a local producer (who works half the year in Los Angeles) adapt a short story. It was his passion project. I’m sure it would be on TV within the year. Nope. But said producer and I are now good friends and I learned a hell of a lot about how Hollywood thinking works.

2012: Richard Dutcher called me in to help him on planning a television series. Then he did me a solid and starred in a short I wrote and directed. A few months later he gave me a phone call. I was at work (grocery store) but I ran outside and answered.

“Nick, I have a job for you. Interested?”

Fuckin-A’.

A producer/director by the name of Sohrab Mirmontazeri had started a new project: The Utah Film Company. He lives in LA, but loves Utah (he was raised here), and hopes to be able make film sustainable in our state.

They had a basic concept for me. Basically three sentences. The title of the project, MARS.

We had a story meeting where they brought in other screenwriters to brainstorm ideas. Kind of like a television writing room but for features. It was amazing. Sohrab led the discussion and we narrowed down the characters, themes, and major plot-points. The idea was to film a low-budget exploitation piece. But with an art-house, intelligent feel.

When I signed the contract to get paid, the highest amount of my writing career, I felt like I had stepped over a threshold.

I got cracking on the first draft. I finished it in a little over a month. I did this while working at a high-stress job, being supported by a (new and improved) pregnant wife, and taking care of a four-year-old son.

I was sure draft one was shit. I had a long ways to go to make this workable. I sent it to Richard and Sohrab for notes.

Everyone gushed. “This is almost ready to shoot. Let’s get moving on it!”

I was blown away.

But there were still notes. Some things weren’t working.

So, I started in on draft two. The “kitchen-sink” draft. I put everything I had into it — way more than I needed. Then I would cut the sucker down to something shootable.

Meanwhile, Sohrab showed the first draft to some potential distributers. A sampling of their feedback:

“Nothing happens. It’s just people talking.”
“It’s too cerebral.”
“We need an alien presence early in the script.”

Our story had in no way involved aliens.

At around page 86 of draft two, I got some more notes. This time from another producer with a recent development at Sony — Stacy Jorgensen.

Stacy’s notes changed everything. And they were good ideas. On the money.

2013: I stopped writing the kitchen sink and immediately started working on notecards for a third draft that would be a page one rewrite.

This one had to knock it out of the park. Sohrab had lined up some big names to read this draft. Names that made me a little anxious (I may have vomited one night).

I dug back in. This draft took exactly forty days.

I sent it off.

And that’s where part one ends…

Dispatches from the Front Line are first person accounts from members of the GITS community about their experiences trying to break into Hollywood as a screenwriter, TV writer or filmmaker. If you feel so moved to comment, email me what you would like to see posted. I can’t promise everyone I will post their entries, but if they slot into the spirit of what we do here and provide some insight into the process, I will be happy to share them.

Good luck, Nick!