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I Read 130+ Killer Shorts Submissions, and Here’s What I Want You To Know

By February 20, 2024No Comments

Hello yet again! My name is Garth Ginsburg, and I’m a reader for the Killer Shorts Competition. Here I am, back for my annual post on what I saw from the trenches for this year’s competition. (You can read my previous articles here, here, and here.)

So what’s different this year? Well, we started doing pre-submission coverage and taking short stories!

True, this means a bigger workload for me, but it was also a lot of fun! I got to flex some muscles that I’ve let wither and die in the years since college. Case in point: Remember prose? I read some of that! And not only did I get to read it again, but I got to do it on a semi-professional basis and mine that for blog content! What a world! (My insecurities about how I’m perceived will not allow me to follow through on this joke. I read a lot of books. Please believe me.)

It was a good year for the competition. There was change, and change is good. It means we’ve got new avenues of stuff to talk about. New angles and new avenues of discussion. So let’s rap.

DISCLAIMER: My opinions are my own and not necessarily those of the other readers or anyone else who works for this competition. Also if it sounds like I’m talking about your work specifically, note that there’s a fairly decent chance I didn’t read it as, again, I only read so many.

Make Sure You’re Taking Full Advantage of Your Premise (And Also the Fact That This is a Screenwriting Competition)

I want to be clear up front that the following hypothetical submission is not based on any actual example. This is me pulling a random idea out of my ass.

Let’s suppose I wrote a script about some sort of story device that grants wishes. A wand or Robin Williams or something like that. Part of the fun of wish devices is the vicarious thrill of watching people abuse them and have fun. It makes us think about what we would do with a magic wand. Sure, I’d make world peace a thing and solve climate change or whatever. But I’d be lying if I also didn’t say that I would grant myself infinite money and a bunch of selfish bullshit, and anyone who says they’d do otherwise is probably lying.

There’s so much fun to be had with wishes. Now imagine I didn’t have any of that fun in my script. 

Granted, you only have twenty-five pages. But what if I got the Monkey’s Paw and went straight to the consequences without any of the shenanigans? Kind of a bummer right?

My point is that I want you to make sure you’re taking as much advantage of your ideas as you can. I know the page limit is an obstacle, but it’s not so restrictive that you should skimp on the fun and games. I’ve read a lot of scripts that fail to realize the potential of their own ideas, and as a result, they feel like they’re all function and no form. Meat and potatoes with no flavor.

I’ve also seen the opposite. Scripts that have truly incredible ideas I’ve never seen before and a distinct voice, but no sense of actual narrative or structure. Scripts that are all form and no function. It’s a bummer because these scripts would make fantastic short films, provided they had the right creative team behind them. (There are two scripts in particular I really wish I could tell you guys about.) The problem, however, is that this is a screenwriting competition, and the parameters I’m given to judge your work are dictated by traditional storytelling methodology. 

I felt dirty making that second point. Going all in on voice doesn’t mean your script is “bad” or anything like that. I’m just trying to adjust your expectations for what to expect if you’re going the competition route. Never stop being weird on my account, or any screenwriting competition for that matter. 

Still, you gotta take advantage of your premise, be it by adding more voice or more convention. Inject yourself, and inject some structure. Just a little bit. Enough so that I can say you did it and justify giving you a high score.

Deconstructionist Horror is Good! Please Write More!…

I’ve written about this a few times in this blog, but horror was more of an acquired taste for me. It didn’t play a big role in defining my relationship with movies, and it’s not a huge part of who I am. I love it now, and I’ve got a horror feature or two in my portfolio. But some of you worship horror, and I don’t. In fact, for philosophical reasons, I don’t worship any genre. But that’s for another article.

On one hand, that means I’m not as loyal to the traditions and signposts of horror as many a horror fan. Some of you see the cabin in the woods and the haunted house as a kind of ritual or tradition. I just see them as clichés. On the other hand, however, I think a lot of you agree with me at this point because I read way more deconstructionist horror scripts this year than any other before!

Scripts making fun of the tropes of horror. Or calling out horror’s more toxic conventions. Or just generally commenting one way or another on the current state of horror.

You love to see it.

I’ll admit that I take a certain amount of glee in reading these scripts. Again, I’m not a native to the genre, and these scripts make me feel seen. Moreover, I’m a grumpy person and I generally like seeing all genres being made fun of from within. (Except for romantic comedies. Screenwriting tip of the day #1: Pointing out the clichés of romantic comedies is, in and of itself, a cliché.) However, above all else, it’s nice to be reminded that people are thinking about the conventions of genres and why we feel the need to be so loyal to their “rules.”

Despite the frequently negative slant of these articles I write, rarely do I come across an absolute trainwreck. Rather, most of the scripts I read are straight down the middle of the road. It’s iterative versions of people getting attacked by a thing in the woods and the family’s new haunted house and on-the-nose trauma metaphors and all that good shit. It’s not that these scripts are always bad. It’s just that a lot of the time, they’re what they say they are on the can and nothing else. So you see how I might be a little happy when I read a script that pokes fun at this stuff, if only because it’s a change of pace.

Even if deconstructionist horror scripts aren’t “good” (we’ll get to that in a minute), writing one of these scripts proves that you have somewhat of a point of view and that you’re not bound to the supposed laws of horror. Or at the very least, that you recognize that horror isn’t above reproach or criticism, and thus I can give you the bare minimal benefit of the doubt. Maybe.

So make fun of horror! Or critique horror! Perhaps you can even make fun of horror writers and fans! After all, horror frequently runs on more of a gut level than an intellectual one. As a result, plenty of exceptionally hacky writers capable of only writing surface-level violence and sex find themselves attracted to horror. I know because I’ve read a lot of their scripts. And not just for this competition, but also for other gigs I’ve had. I’ve been the intern who’s had to watch the DVDs in the submission pile. Let’s just say it was not a pleasant experience. 

You have my permission to go after these people. So please do so.

…But Make Sure You’re Being Original About It, and Do It Effectively (or: Don’t Just Do Scream)

I’ve read a lot of shorts that take place in the ‘90s at video rental stores. Not all, but a lot of them are trying to do the same thing.

There’s a guy and a girl. The guy has a crush on the girl and they finally have a shift together. After some awkward chitchat, it turns out they both love horror movies, and that’s when the lights go out and the monster strikes. Sometimes it’s just two friends who work at the same rental store nerding it up about their favorite horror movies à la Clerks before the slasher hacks them to pieces. Often the writer doesn’t bother with set-up. There’s a guy in the store organizing the horror shelf, then suddenly Carol Lombardini crashes through the front door on a wave of Cheesecake Factory filling and eats his children.

Whatever the scenario may be, it comes across as a weak attempt at self-awareness. An acknowledgment that the traditions of horror have long been established, and then just doing those traditions.

To be fair, once again not every script set in a video store is trying to do this, and I don’t think this is what every one of these rental horror scripts are trying to do. Some don’t fit into the equation laid out at all, and some are aiming to simply revel in the nostalgia. On the latter front, hey, I get it. I’m 32 years old. Much of my childhood was spent inside a Blockbuster throwing tantrums at my mother until she would allow me to rent the South Park movie or intentionally putting the wrong game in the box so I could keep Tony Hawk’s American Wasteland. However, even if it’s just for the memories, it still comes across like you’re trying to rationalize laziness or a lack of new ideas as opposed to something that feels different.

The rental store scenario is far from the only kind of script that does this. I’d go into more examples, but we’d be here all day. Whatever the premise may be, it feels like these scripts are trying to do something similar to Scream. That is, deconstruct horror by pointing out the clichés before you do them. The problem with this approach, however, is that Scream already did it. Thus it feels less like you’re doing anything clever and more like you’re chasing Wes Craven’s ghost. 

The way around this is to go deeper. To not just point out the clichés, but to question why they exist in the first place, and why we enjoy them. Or at the very least, don’t just say what Scream said. Say something different.

Embrace Internality, Prose Writers

We started taking short stories this year!

I’ll be perfectly honest with you all, a part of me was dreading having to read them. Think of all the ways you can have a terrible time reading a screenplay. Now add the trappings of a medium where you’re allowed to have more adjectives and all the ways an incompetent writer can abuse that privilege. You may see why I was a little apprehensive.

However, much like the screenplays, rarely were there any dumpster fires. In fact, I don’t remember there being one! That’s not to say that there weren’t any issues, but the dread I felt over the hypothetical scenario of reading dozens of trash short stories melted away quickly, and I’ll actively look forward to them next year.

So what was the main issue I saw with the short stories?

There were a few problems I could point to, many of which overlap with script issues. Derivative ideas, shallow character work, ineffective structure, and so on. Some are unique to short stories. A tendency to over-describe or lay it on a little too thick with flowery prose. However, if I was going to point to the most prevalent issue, I would say it’s that many of the short stories didn’t take advantage of the medium.

Specifically, a lot of the short stories felt like screenplays in prose form. They tell us what happens, they provide the bare minimum of details, and that’s it. No insight, no point of view. Just the basics and that’s it. The kind of storytelling that could’ve just as easily been written in your screenwriting software of choice. 

The most liberating aspect of prose is that you aren’t bound to what a camera can see or what audio equipment can record. You can do anything you want, provided it helps tell an effective narrative. Go inside your character’s head. Tell us their thoughts. Tell us how they see the world and how it shapes the decisions they make and what they say to the people in their lives. Do this with the world your characters occupy as well. True, there is such a thing as too much detail. But as long as what you’re writing tells a better story, go nuts.

Screenwriting is a part of a process. You write scripts alone, but if your screenplay ever gets made, you’ll soon find yourself in a collaborative process with many other artists who’ll get to claim just as much ownership as you. (Screenwriting tip of the day #2: Auteur theory is bullshit.) Prose, on the other hand, puts you in the driver’s seat from beginning to end. So show us who you are. Take your ability to see the world, whatever that may be, and express it through your story. No director can take credit for your shit. So take advantage!

Please Do Something New with Exorcism Scripts. Please. For Me. I’m Begging You.

There’s a kid, more often than not a girl. She’s spewing black goo out of her mouth and saying wild shit and doing stuff with her body a normal person shouldn’t be able to do. Someone, more than likely the mother, calls in a Catholic priest. He sets up crosses and salt circles and holy water and blah blah blah you’ve all seen The Exorcist.

Personally, my biggest issue with the exorcism scripts is similar to the one I had with ghost hunting scripts. If you’re writing a horror story and you have a group of ghost hunters going into a creepy location, there are only so many ways the story can go. Similarly, when you introduce someone who’s possessed by a demon, more often than not, someone’s going to try to get it out of them. They’ll either succeed or they won’t. But even then, that’s only two options. If the premise of ghost hunting locks itself into a formula, exorcism scripts do the same but worse.

Prove me wrong.

No, I’m serious. Please prove me wrong. 

I don’t mean that in some agro way or as a confrontation either. This is not an argument. This is a plea. I am begging you to prove to me that there’s something new to be done with exorcism scripts because I’ve read so many of these scripts throughout the years, and I gotta be honest, the repetition of them is getting to me.

Maybe I’m extra grumpy about all of this because I grew up in the DC suburbs in Virginia, and fun fact, I drove past the Exorcist stairs every day on my way to school. Which is to say that the shadow of this movie has followed me throughout most of my life, and just when I thought I would get a break, I took a gig at a horror writing competition. But even if that wasn’t the case, the sheer volume of exorcism scripts I’ve read is enough to hypothetically put me off the whole concept in this lifetime and the next.

I’ll settle for simply changing the details. Did you guys know, for example, that other faiths besides Catholicism have exorcisms and they have different methodologies and procedures for extinguishing demons? Or maybe you could even invent your own methodology for getting rid of a demon that doesn’t involve any form of religion! Maybe it’s not a demon at all! Maybe it’s just an evil piece of shit like Bob Bakish! True, that doesn’t solve the structural similarities, but at least it’s a change. One change. This is how desperate I am.

You may have submitted an exorcism script, and you may be disparaged by how much of an asshole I’m being about it. But think about it from my perspective. You’re not just competing in my head with all the other contestants from just this year. You’re also competing against every exorcism script I’ve ever read and every exorcism movie I’ve seen, and at this point, that’s a lot of them. On top of that, I’m in my 30s, my cells are dying, and I’m generally not a happy person. Help me out here.

Please? (Gives you Bambi eyes. A tear trickles down my cheek.)

A Few Quick Bullet Points

  • Speaking of ghost hunting, I didn’t read a single ghost-hunting script this season. That’s almost assuredly just a coincidence and the other readers read them, but I like the idea that someone’s listening to me.
  • Cool little trend (or whatever you want to call it) this year: There’s very little commonality to the scripts I recommended the most this year. A lot of different executions of different ideas. That makes me smile.
  • I consider “write more deconstructionist horror” to be my note of encouragement this year. But if you want something a little more concrete, please write more horror scripts about the internet! I’ve read a few of those I really liked this year, and as you probably don’t need me to explain to you, the internet is horrifying!
  • Stop writing loglines in question form.
  • Generally speaking, it’s a poor idea to start your script with an exhaustive rundown of the protagonist’s morning routine. Not just because it’s cliché but because, pacing wise, it draws things out and makes it feel like we’re going through the motions. I’m not saying it’s always unjustified. Just be careful.
  • Great job as always, everyone! I know I was a little crankier than normal this time around, but it was still a great season for Killer Shorts. See you all next time!

Images by Chase Clark, Rob Griffin, Steven Weeks, and Armin Lotfi on Unsplash and kjpargeter and jcomp on Freepik

Garth Ginsburg

Author Garth Ginsburg

Garth Ginsburg is an aspiring screenwriter based in Los Angeles. His favorite member of the Wu-Tang Clan is Ghostface Killah, but his favorite Wu solo project is Liquid Swords by The GZA.

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