How the Development Process is Like Making a Statue of a Dog

A metaphor I like to use to describe what it’s like to develop a screenplay with producers and studio executives is that it’s like you are a sculptor creating a statue of a dog. If you’re writing a screenplay on your own, you get to create exactly the kind of dog statue you want. You might describe this to your screenwriting friends or your representatives, telling them about this great idea you have for a dog statue. It’s going to be a German Shepherd, with black fur and an orange collar, chasing after a squirrel. Your friends and representatives might agree with your vision or not, they might have pitches, they might suggest making the collar a different color, or  making the statue a Cocker Spaniel instead. But you like your dog statue idea the way it is, and you have a vision for what you want to do, so you go off and sculpt your statue, just the way you like it.

When the dog statue is done, you come back and show it to your friends and representatives. They might like it overall but have a few notes, like maybe the tail is too short, or the ears are too long, but they can appreciate the statue you’ve created and the work you’ve put into it. And besides, while their opinions and input are valuable, at the end of the day, your agent is not the one looking to buy a dog statue. Their job is to take your dog statue out to the dog statue buyers in the dog statue industry and see what they think, because it is what the dog statue buyers think about your dog statue that is the main consideration here. When it comes to whether a screenplay or a dog statue will sell, no matter how sure we are that it will or won’t sell, it’s ultimately the market that decides.

When you’re pitching an idea instead of writing a screenplay on spec the process becomes much different. There isn’t a picture of the completed dog statue you can point to and say, “This is what I intend to make.” You have to describe it. The pitch for a screenplay / dog statue is made up of adjectives and comparisons. You pitch to a producer, or a studio executive, your idea for the dog statue you want to make. You tell them you’ve worked out how it’s going to look and why you want to make it. You can describe to them in general what you intend to accomplish, and also get into the details. It’s going to be a statue of a French Bulldog, with short grey hair, a stump of a tail, and it’s going to be standing on its hind legs, tongue out, looking playful and happy.

Hopefully they love your idea. Maybe they’ll tell you this is exactly the kind of dog statue they’re looking for, and that you’re just the sculptor to sculpt it. You might get a few notes you can live with, like maybe the fur could be darker, or what if it’s eating a doggie treat? The dog statue buyers might actually have been thinking about a similar dog statue themselves, but they like your idea more. You can live with their notes, and in fact you like some of them, because they actually make sense. Hopefully they like it so much they call your agent and tell them they want to buy your pitch for the dog statue. Congratulations are in order! You go out to a celebratory dinner with your agent, share the good news with your friends, maybe read about it in the dog statue trade publications, and after what seems like forever, the deal finally gets done, and you get the all-clear to go off and start the work.

It takes time to create a statue. You start with a block of stone, which looks absolutely nothing like what you hope the end result will be. But you have a vision for what the finished product will look like, and you start the long journey towards realizing it. You start slowly, chipping away at this blank block of stone, day after day, a little at a time, until eventually it starts to look more and more like the dog statue you had in mind. And this gets you excited. Seeing your statue slowly develop fuels your creativity, and the work gets easier the closer you get to the finish line. You reach a point where you feel like you’re finished, put the dog statue away for a bit, and then later on you come back and look at it, coming up with changes to make it an even better dog statue.

You do several passes on the dog statue like this on your own, and then maybe show it to some of the trusted sculptor friends in your sculptor network, get their thoughts, incorporate the ones you like, and keep chipping away. Eventually you can stand back, admire your finished work, and feel like you’re done. And it truly feels like an accomplishment. It’s hard to make a dog statue!  Lots of people have ideas for dog statues and say they’re going to make one, but almost all of them don’t. They often start and realize how hard it is and then lose interest. But you, my sculptor friend, are not like them. You finish the dog statues you start.

You powered through all the hard work and self doubt by focusing on what inspired you originally and your vision for the finished product. And the surprising thing is that, although you were sure you were making exactly what you intended, the reality is that along the way you made some changes you didn’t anticipate making, which make the dog statue even better than you thought it was going to be. In some ways it’s different than the dog statue you thought you were going to make, but you’re happy because the result is a better dog statue. You’re sure everyone at the dog statue company is going to love it, and you’re excited to show it to them.

So you send over a copy of your dog statue to the people who paid you to make it, and wait. And wait. Of course, you understand that they are in the dog statue business, and they have other sculptors making other dog statues, so they have a full slate of dog statue projects to manage, but still you wonder: how long does it take to look at a dog statue? You start to get frustrated, but eventually you get an email setting up a phone call for notes about the dog statue. You’re excited, but wary. Will they love it? They certainly won’t hate it. It’s just like you described to them before you went off and made it, only better. It’s a great dog statue. What notes could they possibly have?

When the meeting finally happens, the first thing the dog statue executives say is that they love it. Which is nice to hear. And then they tell you they have some thoughts. Nothing major, just some little changes, easy fixes really. They thought the ears were going to be pointier. They are concerned that maybe the tail is too long. They have another dog statue they have commissioned that has a collar already, so let’s lose the collar. And this might sound crazy, but what if the dog was wearing a sweater?

You smile and nod along at their notes, but inside you’re freaking out a little. You want to preserve the vision of the dog statue you came in with initially, but at the same time these people are paying you for your work, so they should have some say in any changes to be made. So you take their notes. Some you agree with and some you don’t, but you try to find a way to incorporate their thoughts, even as they seem to be contradictory. You dig a little deeper into their thought process to try and find the notes behind the notes.

They end the meeting by saying they’re still very excited about the dog statue, and can’t wait to see the next version of it. They’re already talking about when they want to show it in their dog statue showroom, and the date on which they might do this. The fact that they’re talking about what they’re going to do with your dog statue after you finish it excites you. It seems like everyone is invested in the success of this dog statue.

Now you go off and think about their notes. Part of you wants to say, “Screw you, I’m the sculptor here, I know what this dog statue should look like.” Of course, if you really wanted to realize your own vision of the dog statue, you should have sculpted it on spec. But you took the money, which means you are not an independent dog statue sculptor, you’re a dog statue sculptor for hire. And that’s okay! That’s why they call it the dog statue business. Sure, it’s not the dog statue you were envisioning at the start, but it’s still pretty close to what you meant. And as you start to work on the next version of the dog statue, making the changes the executives at the dog statue company have asked for, incorporating your own ideas into them, you start to get excited again. Your struggle to incorporate notes you don’t agree with actually leads to some creative breakthroughs, and now with all the changes you like the dog statue even more.

Eventually you finish your next pass on the dog statue and send it back over to the dog statue company, and after another annoyingly long period of time, there’s a phone call setting up another meeting. Your agent tells you the dog statue company executives feel like you’re getting closer. Closer? You thought you were done. In fact, your contract only specified one re-sculpting, which you’ve just completed. Your agent points out that yes, that’s what your contract says, but it’s in everyone’s best interest to keep working on the dog statue until everyone’s satisfied. If you drive a hard bargain and say you’re not doing another pass unless you get paid an additional fee, they might lose interest in the project, and then the dog statue will never have a shot at getting into the dog statue showroom, so everybody loses. You grudgingly agree.

At the next meeting, the dog statue company executives say they still love the dog statue, although they don’t seem as enthusiastic as before. They say they think you’re getting closer to the right version of the finished dog statue, and you bite your tongue and nod along. And they have more notes, and these notes build on previous notes, even though you thought you had addressed them. In some cases, these new notes seem to be in conflict with the old notes. In addition, there’s a new executive at the dog statue company, and this new executive has notes on the current version of your dog statue even though they never saw the original dog statue. In fact, they give you a note suggesting you make the ears floppier without being aware that in the original version the dog statue had floppy ears.

At this point you’re getting frustrated, you’re a little confused, and you have a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. The notes are adding up, and they seem to be in conflict with each other. They want a bigger dog, with a longer tail, can the fur be yellow, can it be chasing a car? You point out that if you change all these details, change the ears, the tails, the fur, the teeth, the pose, then it’s not a statue of a French Bulldog anymore. In fact, you don’t even know what breed of dog it would be. If you take all their notes, it’s going to be a statue of some kind of mixed-up mongrel.

But this doesn’t seem to be a problem for the dog statue company executives. Of course, you don’t want to argue with them too much because, even though it was your original idea, they’re the ones paying you to make the dog statue. You made a deal with the dog statue devil when you took the money. So you don’t put up too much of a fight. To be honest, you’re getting sick of the dog statue development process. You just want to go off and make the changes they want so they’ll be happy enough to put the dog statue on display in their dog statue showroom, because you get a bonus check if they do. And if the dog statue is a hit in the dog statue showroom and a lot of people come to see it, you get a piece of the gate, so you’re incentivized to give them what they want, regardless of the artistic vision you had when you dreamt up this dog statue idea in the first place.

So you go off and make the changes. You don’t love them, but you suck it up and change the dog statue in a way that takes it further away from your original vision, which doesn’t feel great, but at this point you just want to get it over with. In fact, you’re already looking forward to your next dog statue, which you’re going to sculpt on spec because you’re sick of having to take notes from dog statue company executives. After going through this process you’re sick of the dog statue development game. So you finally finish your last pass on the dog statue and schedule what you hope is the last notes meeting.

This time the dog statue company executives are noticeably unenthusiastic. This time they don’t tell you they love the dog statue. They are concerned that maybe something about their notes has gotten lost in translation. Somehow during the creative process, the dog statue has gotten away from its original vision of what they wanted it to be. They observe that the dog statue doesn’t really look like a French Bulldog anymore. “Of course it doesn’t!” you want to scream. “You told me to change the ears and the tail and the color of the fur, so of course it doesn’t look like a French Bulldog!”. But the dog statue company executives don’t seem as interested now. They wrap up the meeting by claiming they are still excited about the dog statue, but it doesn’t really feel that way. They say they’ll get back to you with next steps, they’re going to think about how to proceed, but honestly, you’re sick of it all. You got paid to sculpt this dog statue, and sure, it would be nice to see it in the dog statue showroom, but you’re over it and ready to move on to your next dog statue project.

The next week you read in the dog statue trade publications that the dog statue company has fired its president, and the new president is looking forward to developing his own ideas for dog statues. This new president is excited to meet with new dog statue sculptors, and less enthusiastic about the dog statues currently being developed, which didn’t originate on his watch. He seems eager to get his own batch of dog statue projects going.

You know this doesn’t bode well for your dog statue. And this is confirmed when your agent calls to tell you they’re passing on your dog statue. It’s not going into the dog statue showroom after all. It’s just going to sit in a dusty dog statue warehouse somewhere with all the other dog statues they passed on. You’re disappointed, but relieved it’s all over. Your agent reminds you that you were lucky to sell the dog statue pitch and get paid to sculpt it, and now you can build on your quote for your next dog statue pitch, which makes you feel a little better.

You feel burned out, and want to get your mind off dog statues, so you try to stop thinking about them. You go to the movies, hang out with friends, visit family, engage in your hobbies. Then one day you have an idea for a new dog statue, something familiar but with a fresh take. You start to get excited. You start sketching out what this new dog statue could look like. You email your agent to tell them you’re working on a new dog statue idea. You’re right back at the beginning of the creative process, and enjoying it.

Later that day you read in the trades that some other dog statue company is putting a dog statue by some other dog statue sculptor into their dog statue showroom that is just like the one you pitched to your dog statue company, and you shake your head bitterly. You vow to make a new dog statue that you’re going to create on spec, and when it’s finished it will be something that all the dog statue companies in town will want to buy, resulting in a bidding war that sets a new record for the price of dog statues. But it all starts with you, the sculptor. So the next morning you sit back down at your sculpting table with a new block of stone, ready to get started on the long process of creating your next dog statue masterpiece. 

And that is what developing a screenplay is like.

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