Reflections on 2nd Annual Black List / Women In Film Feature Writers Lab
6 writers reflect on their experience in recent writers lab in L.A.
From Thursday, July 18 through Sunday, July 21, 2019, six screenwriters gathered in Los Angeles for the 2nd Annual Black List / Women In Film Feature Writers Lab. The writers —Sylvia Batey Alcala, Devi Gowni, Alyssa Lerner, Anya Meksin, Erin Rodman, and Bo Shim — had been selected on the basis of scripts they had uploaded to the Black List website and a personal statement about the story they were writing as well as their creative aspirations.
During the week, they attended several events including a special screening of the movie The Kitchen, Q&A sessions with screenwriters Liz Hannah, Kate Sharp, and Aline Brosh McKenna.
The core of the week, however, was to analyze, develop, and workshop the writers’ scripts. They began with a group session which I moderated, giving the writers an opportunity to reflect on their stories — what their original inspiration was, what their emotional connection to the material is, what works, and what doesn’t work — and prepare them for their mentor meetings.
And what a group of mentors! Jessica Bendinger (BRING IT ON), Andrea Berloff (STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON), Kirsten “Kiwi” Smith (LEGALLY BLONDE), Guinevere Turner (AMERICAN PSYCHO), plus a Q&A with Black List founder Franklin Leonard.
Over the course of three days, each writer met with mentors for 90–120 minute long sessions. We capped off the week with a group meeting which I led in which together we workshopped each writer’s story with a goal of providing a path forward into and through the rewriting process.
All in all, it was a remarkable week. Here are some reflections from the participating writers on their experience.
I knew before the Lab began that this was a curious and wonderful group of writers. Our email thread started with simple introductions, took a quick turn to the topic of cookies, and by the end we were forwarding each other’s screenplays to friends and colleagues, blazoning one another’s work like we had discovered new moons. After the first round of drinks on night one, we were basically a full-on coven.
The Lab elevates what could be a standard exercise in networking to a deeply meaningful community, not just with our fellow writers, but with the mentors and guest speakers. Geeking out about dialogue with Kiwi Smith, asking hard career questions under the sphinxlike gaze of Aline Brosh McKenna, answering Guinevere Turner’s “but what kind of horror writer are you?” inquiry — these are moments a screenwriter might not dare hope for. After all, the feeling of being on the outside is omnipresent for so many rising writers. That feeling is so pervasive it’s ambient, like white noise you never notice until it’s turned off.
The noise is off, now that the Black List and Women in Film have welcomed us into the family. In the absence of that noise, I finally hear something else. A heartbeat, a pulse, a why, that had been dampened by the sound of my own feet running in place for so long. Why write at all? Why break my soul into chunks and then give the chunks names and make them talk to each other in the hopes that someday actual people will embody my soul-chunks so I can point a camera at them while they say my words? Perhaps that’s the easiest way to tell the truth.
Ultimately, connecting with my “why” leads me to a simple directive that Franklin bestowed upon us on our last day: “Just write dope shit.” He, along with Megan, Maikiko, Scott, and the rest of the team, have armed the 2019 Fellows with creative tools, business insight, and the fuel to keep going — literal fuel, we ate like 5,000 calories a day.
All that, and I’m part of a coven?
This shit is already dope as hell.
A few weekends ago, I met a group of strangers in a beautiful house. By the end of that weekend, those strangers had become family.
I went into the Black List x Women in Film lab expecting to learn, meet incredible people, and spend time workshopping my script — but I could never have guessed that depth of the bond forged with my fellow writers, nor the level of introspection and vulnerability the sessions would offer.
Prior to that weekend, I had spent so much time focused on the external aspects of writing: the page counts, the deadlines, the concept… and by the end, I remembered why I loved storytelling so much — because it is the purest form of connection, of intimacy, of depth of feeling. I can’t thank everyone in the lab enough for reminding me of that, something I will not only take with me going forward, but that I hope to never forget again.
I arrived at the lab on a Thursday afternoon, in sweatpants, expecting a weekend of sipping tea and writing. I entered the most luxurious house I’ve ever seen from the inside and was told Aline Brosh McKenna would arrive in 20 minutes to hang out with us. This must be wrong! Since when are “Aline Brosh Mckenna,” “hang out,” and “us” said in the same sentence? I got suspicious we would not be sipping tea and writing and I changed into nicer pants.
This is what the weekend was like for me. It was a whirlwind of meeting amazing writers and hearing their experiences paired with the constant realization that I shouldn’t have packed so many pairs of sweatpants. It was unreal. Underpinned by every mentor was the insistence that we didn’t need to doubt ourselves. We each held the power of our own careers. Alongside the words of guidance, I was surrounded by the grounding presence of five other women aiming to change the world through their words. For the first time, I felt clarity about my career, my writing, and my strength.
I left that weekend feeling powerful because I realized how many amazing people I’m surrounded by. Because this lonely freelance writer gained the support of a family — a group of people I’d fight off a bunch of monkeys for. As long as I could wear sweatpants while doing it.
A week after finding out that I had been accepted to the Black List x WIF Screenwriting Residency, I got some even crazier news: I was being hired as a Staff Writer on a new Netflix series and would need to move from NYC to LA immediately to start my new job. This was the big break I’d been working toward for the last eight years, but suddenly my life was changing so fast that I felt overwhelmed and panicked.
The Black List x WIF lab was the welcome party I needed to truly start this new chapter of my life in LA, grounded in the support of a vibrant community of mentors and peers. I arrived for the kick-off weekend feeling harried by a million questions — Where should I live? Would I suck at being in a writers room? How do I turn this job into a sustainable career? What projects should I focus on outside of the room? — and I left feeling inspired, calm, and determined. I didn’t have all the answers, but I felt confident that I could figure things out one step at a time, with this group of people cheering me on.
In the two weeks since the lab, the other five screenwriters and I have become a family to each other, texting every day about our projects and recommending each other for opportunities. These women are so talented and determined, so thoughtful and curious, that I have absolutely no doubt each of them will make her mark on this industry. I’m grateful to Megan, Maikiko, Scott, and all the other staff and mentors who worked so hard to create this magical, unforgettable experience that is only the beginning of even more amazing things to come.
From the moment I walked into the big, beautiful house for the Lab experience, I felt nourished by the sort of support and fellowship that I didn’t even know I was missing. Like rain on the desert. When I arrived, I didn’t know a soul and four days later, I left as part of a close knit group of peers who share a devotion to helping each other tell the stories we want to tell. And the text chain hasn’t stopped since the day we left. It’s the gift that keeps on giving. Also, the Black List and Women in Film folks — Megan, Maikiko, Olivia, Terry, Caroline and Kate — are heroes.
The opportunity to have a fresh group of brains and eyeballs on this particular script pushed my creativity to a whole new place. With Scott’s guidance, the hours spent workshopping and brainstorming ideas for our scripts had deep value. The magical alchemy of time and place and people really worked. I am so grateful.
I’ve been procrastinating writing this reflection because that’s truly what writers do best. But mostly, I’m still trying to wrap my head around that whirlwind of a weekend. Walking into that house, I only had a vague sense of what it might be. Some peer workshopping, meeting fellow writers and trying to form some connections, surely nothing life changing.
I was wrong.
I knew everything was off to a good start when I saw how much food was on the kitchen island and how packed the fridge was. Then, thirty minutes later, Aline Brosh McKenna walked in through the door to drop her wisdom. This was followed by an incredible dinner at Badmaash. Then an amazing breakfast spread in the morning. I know you’re starting to wonder, was this a writing residency or just a gathering for foodies? I wondered that too.
They were just easing us into what was about to be an intense marathon of meetings (you thought I was going to say eating, that applies too) with incredibly accomplished women in the industry. Did I squeal inside when I found out Kiwi Smith was my mentor? A hundred percent. Did she give me the greatest notes? A thousand percent. Don’t question my math.
But the most valuable experience came when the six of us workshopped our scripts together with Scott. It reminded me why I love doing what I do. Why our stories matter. And why it’s so important for these moments to exist where writers support other writers. And it’s these moments that led us to form this incredible bond with each another.
This past weekend, we got together for our first writers group session. We picked up right where we left off. There was an endless flow of conversation (and food) and invaluable feedback and encouragement. I feel so insanely lucky to have found this group of women. This is what a network is to me. People you can trust and depend on. People who understand your taste and the work you’re trying to achieve, even if it isn’t quite there yet. People you can ask dumb questions to and not feel judged. And mostly importantly, people who know how to eat. Like really eat. As in, they’ll watch you eat ridiculous amounts of food and respect you for it — as much as they respect good writing.
I always approach new social situations with the mentality that if I can walk away having made at least one genuine connection, it’s a win. Well I feel like I’ve hit the goddamn jackpot.
Let me echo Bo’s sentiments: Our Sunday afternoon workshop session which stretched to 5+ hours was amazing. Not only because of the feedback, brainstorming, and story suggestions, but also the emotional energy which emerged as we worked together. It was honest, real, passionate, and supportive, everything you could want out of a writers group. Then time to celebrate with alumni from the 2018 Black List / Women In Film lab!
This was my 13th Black List writing lab and in fact, I’ve been a part of every single one of the feature-writing events the Black List has hosted. You can read reflections by participants in previous sessions below:
Las Vegas (September 2013)
New York (May 2015)
Toronto (September 2015)
Chicago (October 2015)
San Francisco (October 2015)
Los Angeles (November 2015)
Athena Film Festival (February 2016)
Los Angeles (November 2016)
Los Angeles (October 2016)
Los Angeles (October 2017)
Los Angeles (August 2018)
Los Angeles / Women In Film (February 2018)
Kudos yet again to the Black List for providing educational opportunities for writers outside the Hollywood system to deepen their understanding of the craft and take their scripted projects to the next level.
Check out the Black List for more such opportunities.
