While filmland rejects the work of
everyone who is not an established
author, Frieda Inescort, Warner
Brottvrs featured player. who
started as a publicity writer, still
hopes to write for the movies.
By Paul Harrison
HOLLYWOOD.
ONE of the maddest things about
Hollywood is its paradoxical at
titude toward stories.
The movies are rather des
perately in need of stories. Every con
ference table is a wailing-wall for
harassed executives who moan about
the dearth of fresh material and imag
inative talent.
Yet the studios will make no volun
tary move toward the discovery of new
writers, and every day bales of manu
scripts are returned unopened to their
disappointed senders. This is done
firmly but reluctantly, for everybody
knows that among those unseen rejec
tions are stories which the movies would
like to have.
Trouble is that the industry has
grown skittish about plagarism suits.
To protect itself against a few un
scrupulous persons it has adopted the
harSh measure of rejecting everything
from outsiders.
How, then, ask thousands of amateurs
and semi-pros, can a person learn to
write scenarios? And having learned,
how can he win any consideration?
Well, the first question is tough
enough, but it takes on the flavor of
duck soup when served with the latter
problem. Studio executives themselves
say that although you may have an ab
solutely terrific story worthy of an ut
terly colossal production with a posi
tively magnificent galaxy of stars, your
chances of getting anybody to glance
at same arc slight if not hopelessly neg
ligible.
However, as in practically everything
connected with Hollywood, there are
“angles.” An angle is an indirect route
of approach to an objective. Just as
many film players arrived in Hollywood
by first going to New York to be dis
covered, so most of the 700-odd writers
in Hollywood, got their jobs by round
about means.
/ ’ONSIDER Miss Bradley King, from
" 4 whom later in this article you will
hear some counsel about preparation
and presentation of stories. She is a
good source of information because she
has been here 15 years, has worked for
all the major studios, has written and
adapted scores of screen stories, and
has aided many another author. She
knows all the angles.
Miss King broke into the movies with
lon# difficulty than most have. She sold
ttaur or five short stories to cheap pulp-
Thomas Ince gave Bradley King,
above, a job at SSO a week. Within
five years her pay had risen to SISOO
a week.
paper magazines. The yarns were
bought for films. She went to see
Thomas Ince. He said, “I’ve read some
of your sturt and I think your literary
style is absolutely lousy. But you’ve
got a good sense of drama, and I’ll give
you SSO a week.”
That was in the days when screen
scribblers were just breaking into the
upper income brackets. Five years later
Miss King’s weekly wage was SISOO,
and she hasn’t faltered since.
9y \ i y
Norman Krasna, studio press agent,
had to sell » play in New York
before be could Interest Holly
wood. Now he drives an expensive
ear and collects sl7o# paychecks.
So tlou 'dtilie to mite
for the Movies ?
The more luxurious studio offices are
full of people who once tried to crash
Hollywood but were met with chilly
indifference. In despair they then went
to New York and wrote plays. As soon
as the plays were produced they were
bought for fantastic sums by movie
companies, which also held out fancy
contracts to the authors.
Lillian Heilman actually was a reader
in a movie studio story department
three years ago, at S4O a week, but ttiey
wouldn’t let her write. So she quit,
penned and sold “The Children’s Hour”
as a play, and a year ago returned to
Hollywood at a salary of S2OOO a week.
- Norman Krasna was a second string
press agent in one of the big studios
Golda Draper became a waitress
after having been turned down as a
scenario writer. A customer shot
her —and while she was in the hos
pital she wrote a screen story and
sold it.
several years ago, and they wouldn’t
let him write, either. But he filched a
little time here and there, and wrote
a comedy called “Louder, Please." No
body in Hollywood would even read it
Krasna took it to New York, where it
was produced and became a hit. The
young man—he is only 26 now—is back
in Hollywood riding around in a Rolls-
Royce and collecting SI7OO pay checks.
Then there was the girl named Golda
Draper, who came to Hollywood in
search of a scenario job, but who finally
took a position as waitress in a case
One night a customer shot her. It was
a little matter of jealousy or insanity or
something—no reflection, at any rate,
on tier ability as a waitress. But it
turned out rather fortunately. While
she was in the hospital she wrote a
screen yarn, “Night Waitress,” and
sold it.
WRITING seems to be perfectly com
patible with acting, and there are
some who have become actors flrst and
writers afterward.
Frieda Tnescort tried publicity work,
magazine editing, stage acting and now
is established at Warner Brothers as a
featured player. She plans to write
for the screen. Helen Valkis. a new
leading woman at the same studio nas
composed a lot ol poetry and had it
published. She expects to do scenarios.
Errol Flynn lately has been crashing
some oi the national magazines, and
will star in an original story, "The
White Rajah." which he wrote for me
movies. Hugh Herbert has made al
most as much money from writing as
he has from being a comedian. Jennie
MacPherson. under writing contract to
Paramount, used to be an actress. And
Virginia Van Upp. former child star,
now is one of the better-known scen
arists. with a score of 18 picture credits.
Mae West has furthered her career hy
revising the scripts of her pictures
“The easiest and surest way for a
writer to bring his stuff to the attention
of all the studios is to get it printed,**
says Bradley King. “Get it printed any
where. There are hundreds of maga
zines, and some of ’em will accept al
most anything. But the studios read
them all.”
Miss King might have pointed out
the example set by Darryl Zanuck. vice
president and dynamo-in-chief of 2Uld
PPStlgjiHr ' I
’ ' |B
iJHB Bmm
Virginia Van Upp, former child
star, now is one of filmland's most
successful scenarists.
Century-Fox. It's a model of ingenuity.
Thirteen years ago, when he was 21,
Zanuck was an unsuccessful author He
decided that the studios wouldn't buy
his stories because he never had written
a book. And so he wrote a book, wrote
it in two weeks. Two of the four stories
in it were remod'.i *d from rejected
scenarios, and one was a disguised piece
of promotion for a hair tonic
A job printer got out the book apd
the hair tonic manufacturer paid the
bill. Zanuck took a copy, went a/bund
to the studios again, and peddled the
four stories for a total of $12,000. He
also got a contract with Fox.
“Literary agents have entree to the
studios,” Miss King resumed. “Bui not
every beginning writer can find an
agent who is willing to handle his work.
However, there are agents’ representa
tives in all the larger cities, and it’s
probably easier to interest them than
it is to appeal directly to a studio ”
One of the colony’s chorus girls. Mu
riel Scheck, is also a writer. For three
years, during idle periods, she has been
tapping out scenarios. Most of them
weren’t any good, but finally she hit
on a plot that sounded promising She
showed it to all the minor executives
who were willing to read it. Some of
them put in a favorable word to high
er-ups.
Result: RKO bought the yarn. It was
“The Smartest Girl in Town,” and re
cently starred Gene Raymond.