One Reader Doesn't Define Your Talent

Rejection is a strange thing when you're a writer.

You can receive ten compliments about your work and somehow it's the one "no" that follows you around for the rest of the day... or week... or month. Or, if we're being completely honest, occasionally at three o'clock in the morning six months later.

Recently, I received some disappointing news. Two of my scripts, my short screenplay Going Up and my horror romance feature screenplay An Edible Bachelor, didn't progress in the Austin Film Festival Screenplay Competitions.

Of course I was disappointed. Austin is a competition writers know. It's one you circle on the calendar. You submit, you wait, and somewhere in the back of your mind you allow yourself to imagine the email saying you've progressed. Mine didn't.

But something interesting happened while waiting for my rejection to arrive. Going Up was named a Finalist in the Unrealized Brilliance – Short Screenplay (Unproduced) category at Calgary International Film Festival.

Same script. Same characters. Same dialogue. Same writer.

Different reader. Different result.

And I think that's something writers need reminding of occasionally. One Reader Is Just That: One Reader!

When somebody doesn't connect with your screenplay, it's incredibly easy to translate that into something much bigger. The script isn't good enough. Or worse: I'm not good enough.

But storytelling doesn't work like that. A reader brings their own tastes, experiences, preferences and expectations to your work. Something that electrifies one person can leave another completely unmoved. We've all experienced this as audiences. Think about a film you absolutely adore. Now think about the friend who can't understand why you love it. Neither reaction magically changes the film. So why do we expect screenplays to operate differently?

Of course, that doesn't mean we should ignore criticism. If several readers identify the same problem, I'd be foolish not to pay attention. Notes can make us better writers, and sometimes rejection is telling us something we genuinely need to hear. But there is a huge difference between listening to feedback and allowing a single person's response to become a verdict on your ability. It isn't. Remember you're looking for the right person. All you need it one potentially.

This is something I've started thinking about differently as my own screenwriting career has developed. We're often encouraged to think about success in numbers. How many competitions have you placed in? How many people have requested the script? How many producers have responded? But ultimately, you don't need everybody to love your screenplay. You need the right person to love it.

One producer who sees the film you see. One actor who desperately wants to play that character. One director who understands exactly what you're trying to do. One executive who finishes the screenplay and immediately wants to send it to somebody else. That's potentially all it takes.

And that person might discover your work through a prestigious screenplay competition. But they might not.

They might discover you through your socials. They might receive it from your agent. They might hear you pitch it at a festival. They might meet you at an industry event. They might read something else you've written and ask, "What else have you got?" They might even encounter your screenplay years after you first wrote it.

There isn't one doorway into this industry. There are hundreds of them, and half the time somebody has hidden the bloody handles.

So, while you read and re-read the Austin reject email you got. Or sit drumming your fingers waiting for the inevitable feedback that will take months. Allow yourself to hear this one important truth: Competitions are opportunities, not verdicts.

I still believe screenplay competitions can be incredibly useful. They can provide validation, exposure and momentum. A placement can give you something to talk about when approaching producers or representatives. And, occasionally, they can genuinely open doors. But I've stopped thinking of them as examinations. There isn't an objective answer sheet somewhere determining whether your screenplay is officially Good or Bad. They're opportunities to put your work in front of another reader. That's all.

Sometimes that reader will love it. Sometimes they won't. Sometimes another reader, somewhere else, will see exactly what the first one didn't.

Going Up didn't suddenly become a bad screenplay between Austin and Calgary. The words didn't rearrange themselves overnight. It simply had a different reader. So, keep looking for your person

Rejection will always sting. I don't think there's some magical stage in a writer's career where you become completely immune to it. But perhaps we can become better at putting it in perspective.

A "no" doesn't necessarily mean the screenplay isn't good enough. Or that you're no good enough. Keeping taking the notes that help you. Ignore the ones that don't. Keep improving. Keep writing.

And, most importantly, keep putting your stories into the world. Because you don't need everyone to fall in love with your screenplay. You just need the right person to.