As screenwriters, we’re often getting “notes” from others about things that aren’t working in our script, at least in the opinion of those giving the notes.

And we’re then tasked with rewriting in order to address the notes.

I’ve been on both sides of this, as a writer receiving such feedback (endlessly, it seems), and as a producer and consultant giving it to others.

And I’ve noticed one fundamental problem with how writers (myself included) tend to approach the process of rethinking and revising our work in response to feedback.

Simply put, we tend to do “band-aid fixes.” What that means is this: the simplest, smallest patch-up work on the most easy-to-address notes. We focus on the little scene-level “polish” notes that don’t require rethinking much about the script or making any significant changes.

And it makes sense, in that we spent months or even years on the draft we got notes on, and aren’t eager to tear it completely apart and reconceptualize major aspects of it. We’d much rather make small tweaks, and avoid a “page one rewrite” or anything close to it.

Unfortunately that usually doesn’t go far enough to really improve the script. And when those who gave the notes read the next draft, they will likely still have most of the same “bigger” notes. And the minor fixes the writer made will hardly be noticeable.

In my book The Idea I talk about three levels to a script:

1. Concept

2. Structure

3. Words on the page (scene writing)

It might seem obvious that the first of those is the most important to get right, before moving on to the other two. It’s also a lot harder to get right than writers tend to think. But in my view it accounts for more than half of any script’s chances at finding success.

Most of the time when professionals read a script, they have notes on the concept. Fairly significant ones. Which requires the writer taking a step back from the level of “script” or even “structure.” It can mean rethinking what they’ve written to such an extent that they might be faced with throwing out some or all of the scene writing or even structure they worked so hard on.

Of course we writers hate this.

And as someone who gives notes professionally, I don’t relish being the bearer of such bad news. But about 99% of the time, when I read a script, I have concept notes. Notes I would’ve had on the logline if I’d heard it before they spent all that time writing. And those are the notes I focus on most. Because everything else is moot until the concept is really working.

But often writers will take those notes and go off and do a rewrite where they only address the most minor points — “band-aid fixes” — and then resubmit it to me. Only to find that I have exactly the same concept and even structure notes as before. I can tell you that this isn’t fun for anyone. 🙂 Which is why I urge people to work with me on addressing the larger notes together, outside the script, before they go into specific scene writing changes.

This is not just an issue for writers who haven’t broken in yet. Professional or near-professional writers will constantly get notes from their own representatives, producers or buyers/employers that require taking a bigger step back than they probably want to, in order to address notes on concept. And when they prove unwilling or unable to do that, and stick to most of what they had before they got notes, that’s when they’re most likely to get replaced and rewritten by others (and possibly lose some standing in the eyes of those they’re working with).

Of course there’s a place for sticking to your guns, and depending on the situation, that could be the best course of action. But I urge writers to ask why they’re doing that, if they choose to ignore or not address the bigger notes. Is it because they’re sure they’re “right” and others are “wrong”? That what they’re aiming to do really will work with audiences (and possibly buyers)? Are they in a position to advance the project on their own to see if that’s true?

Or are they avoiding the work of making greater changes because it feels like they wasted all that time, and are disappointed that the fruits of their effort weren’t more well-received? Are they just disheartened, discouraged and even angry with those who gave the notes? While maybe losing faith that they can address the notes successfully, and be “good at this”?

These are all understandable and normal reactions. We all go through them. And it’s something I think we have to work to get past. So that we can objectively consider whether bigger work than we want to do is necessary to make a script the best it can be. And then we can decide if we want to do that work, and look to find a way forward into doing it.

When we do, it often leads to a better and happier result than we might’ve imagined. Maybe not a complete and total victory (which tends to remain elusive, most of the time), but a sense that we made something better and it led to a better response from others that we feel good about.

As I’ve written about before, there’s a whole art to processing others’ feedback. And it’s a really big part of the life of being a writer. How we approach it makes a big difference as to the success and satisfaction we find.