Writing the photoplay is essentially an art; marketing the photoplay script is a business; and the sooner the writer adopts intelligent, up-to-date business methods in offering his stories, the sooner he is likely to find the checks coming in. It is not enough merely to send out your script; it must be sent to that editor who is in the market for the kind of script you have written. As one editor has said, "Don't send a Biblical photoplay to a firm that makes a specialty of Indian and cowboy subjects."

Your first care, then, should be to have as complete a knowledge as possible of what every company is doing, what kinds of stories they need at the time, where their field-companies are working, and, above all, what kinds of scripts certain companies positively do not want at any time. For of course, there are companies with definitely fixed policies, besides concerns that announce from time to time that they are unable to use stories of this or that sort.

The most important aids to a thorough knowledge of the photoplay market are the different moving-picture trade-journals and the magazines published exclusively for writers.[61] By studying them you will equip yourself with a first-hand knowledge of what the different studio editors need, and so be on the right road. Don't take a gambler's chance by sending out your scripts without knowing precisely what is a good prospect.

In almost every one of the foregoing chapters we have raised points that bear upon the selling of your story as well as affect the particular part of the script then being discussed. To repeat one instance, you were advised not only to satisfy yourself that a company is in the market for society stories, but to look into the nature of the stock-company producing their plays. If the company you select is one that features a woman in most of its picture-stories, and yours is a photoplay with a strong male lead, you would be unwise to submit it there. True, it might be accepted and one of the studio writers commissioned to rewrite it in order to give the "fat" part to the leading woman, but your check would be proportionately smaller to compensate for the rewriting—you would, in fact, be paid little more than if you had sold the bare idea.

In submitting your script to a given company, do not address it to individuals, unless there is a very good reason for so doing—and there seldom is. Address your letter either to the "Editor, Blank Film Company," or to the "Manuscript Department." Most useless of all is the practice of sending to some person who is known to be associated with a certain company, without knowing just what his position is.

Once the photoplaywright has begun to sell his scripts, he will usually prefer to do his own marketing. If, he argues, he is able to write salable photoplays, why should he share his checks with authors' agents or photoplay clearing houses? Yet many writers find an agency to be advantageous. But you had better take the advice of an experienced friend before committing your work to an intermediary—not all are capable and not all are honest.

One thing the writer should remember: Send a script to only one firm at a time. There is one company at least, and there may be more, which announces that no carbon copies of scripts will be considered. The implication, of course, is that they are afraid to pass on carbon copies for fear that at the time they are looking over a script it may have been already purchased by some other company. If you do send out a carbon copy of your script, make it plain to the editor in your accompanying letter that the original script has gone astray or been destroyed, and you are sending the carbon in its place for that reason. But why send a carbon script at all? If you think enough of your work to want to see it well-dressed, make a clean, fresh copy and take no risks.

It is literally true that many an author has spoiled his chances of ever selling to certain companies because he sold a story to a second company before making certain that it had been rejected by the first to which it was sent. Imagine the complication of receiving a check from B shortly after the author has had word that A has purchased the same story!

A manuscript should never be rolled—it irritates a busy editor to have to straighten out a persistently curling package of manuscript.

The sheets should not be permanently fastened together. It is simple diplomacy to make the reading of your script an agreeable task instead of an annoyance.

Do not fold an 8-1/2 x 11-inch sheet of paper more than twice. Fold it but once, or else make two even folds and the script will be in proper form to fit the legal-sized envelope. Heavy manilla envelopes are the strongest, but we have never had cause to complain of the white, stamped envelopes to be had at any post-office. If you choose to use these, ask for sizes 8 and 9. Your script, folded twice, will fit snugly into the size 8, which is to be the self-addressed return envelope. Do not put your MS. in the return envelope. In enclosing the smaller envelope, turn it with the open side down, so as to avoid having the flap cut when the outer envelope is opened with a paper knife.

Attach the full amount of postage to both envelopes; never enclose loose stamps—and never forget to stamp the inner envelope if you wish to get your manuscript back in case of rejection. At this writing (February, 1919), a three-cent stamp will bring it back to you, but you will have to pay whatever else is due before receiving the letter; and if the story sells, and you receive nothing but the check, you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you have not been stingily economical in sending it out.

See that your name and address are on the upper left-hand corner of the going envelope; be sure, too, that the return envelope is properly self-addressed.

We should not advise the young writer to put the price demanded for his script in the upper right-hand corner of the first sheet, though this is where it should go if he does wish to stipulate the amount for which he will sell it. It is very much better simply to write: "Submitted at usual rates." Even after you have sold to a given company, it is better, as a rule, to leave the matter of payment to the editor. You may be sure that he will pay you just as much as your story is worth, being governed only by the price-limit fixed by the manufacturer. Today, almost every manufacturer realizes that the day of getting "something for nothing" is past. In other words, he realizes that the script—the story—is the very keystone of the photoplay arch, and if the story is purchased from a free-lance writer, he must be prepared to pay a fair price for it.

It is impossible, in a work of this kind, to say what certain companies are in the habit of paying, but it may roughly be said that the minimum price per reel today is $50. Most of the larger producing companies are glad to pay a minimum of $100 per reel for satisfactory material, and $1,000 for a five-reel script—or even for a five-reel story in synopsis form, if that is the company's policy—is regularly paid by those who are entitled to be called "the leading producers." Most companies have a fixed, uniform price-scale; and it would be silly for any one to say that you will be paid a certain amount for your story "if it suits them." We have in mind a certain large company that is in the habit of paying $1,000 for all the five-reel synopses it purchases. If your story is not what this company wants, of course it will not be purchased at all. If your story does suit them, you may be certain of receiving a check for $1,000 at least—and we say "at least" because they have been known to pay still higher prices if the story is really unusual and hence especially valuable to them. This same company—as do nearly all concerns—frequently pays a price greatly exceeding $1,000 for the work of authors with "big names," because, of course, the value of the big name is not to be denied.

Experience alone will teach you which companies pay the best prices; after you have sold several scripts, and have become acquainted with the price-scale of different studios, you will, if the play suits that particular market, naturally offer your material first to the company that has paid you best. But just as soon as a script comes back from one company—so long as you feel certain that it is not in your power to improve it before letting it go out again—send it out to another, and then to another, until it is either accepted or so worn or soiled that it is politic to recopy it. And don't wait too long to do this simple act of justice to your brain-child. Whatever you do, don't stop with three or four rejections—keep at it until you are sure the market is exhausted. But be certain to review your script for possible improvements each time it comes back to you.

Keep up your output. Do not write one story, send it out, and then wait patiently for its return, or for the editor's check. Plan a new story, write it, and send it out. Then plan another and follow the same course. Photoplay marketing is a business, and a business man is usually "on the job" six days a week.

It is best not to write a letter to the editor, to accompany your script, unless there is a very special reason for so doing. Nor should the writer rush a letter of inquiry off in case he does not hear from the editor within a week or two after submitting his story. Delay may be a hopeful sign. If you hear nothing in two months it is time enough to write—briefly and courteously. Nearly all companies, however, will report well within that period.

It is utterly impossible in a work of this nature to include a list of the requirements of every photoplay editor. The policy of the manufacturers is always subject to change. Their requirements are governed by the number of scripts of each kind they have on hand, the disposal of their field-companies, the season of the year, the ability of their directors to turn out the various kinds of pictures, and also by individual preferences.

The way to keep posted on the current needs of the various companies is to study on the screen the pictures of the different producing firms; to read in the trade-journals the synopses of all the releases that you do not have the opportunity of witnessing; and to keep in touch with the announcements made by the manufacturers themselves in the weekly and monthly journals mentioned in Chapter XIV.

"Where and How to Sell Manuscripts," by William B. McCourtie, issued by the publishers of this book ($2.50), contains a frequently revised list of over 5,000 markets for literary material of all sorts, including photoplays.

Keep a record of every script you send out. Here is one simple form for a manuscript book or card index:

Do not let the printed rejection slip humiliate you. Really great writers get them, constantly. This statement is equally true of both fiction and photoplay writing. It would take too much time and money for an editorial staff to write personal letters to all who offer unsolicited manuscript.

Never write petulant or sarcastic letters when your offerings are rejected. You may need the good-will of that editor some day. Although personal pique seldom actuates him, he may be frail enough to be annoyed when his well-meant efforts are assailed.

In conclusion, we urge the writer to remember the words of Dr. Johnson:

"All the performances of human art at which we look with praise or wonder are instances of the resistless force of perseverance; it is by this that the quarry becomes a pyramid, and that distant countries are united with canals."