I assume most of us are here because, first and foremost, we love the movies. It’s an artistic and passion thing, a calling. A vocation. But some of us, well, may also aspire to be one of the lucky band of people who can earn a crust from crafting fabulous stories for the big (or not so big) screen. Making stuff up that entertains, educates or provokes the general public is certainly a cool way to earn a living. Imagine the delight of hearing your words enunciated by Tom Cruise and getting paid for the privilege… or you know, even better, receiving case loads of money whilst Tom monologues your words. Dream big baby. Dream big.

A little bit of research suggests that if you write a script for a feature that ends up released to the cinema you will likely be paid between USD 75k-150k. Average pay for US TV scribes is $60–70k. On average, of course. That sum will vary immensely at both ends of the spectrum. And the scale does start at zero for many aspiring screenwriters. At that end of the thermometer you may not even get to keep the tips.

The days of high profile script bidding wars for writers such as Shane Black and Joe Eszterhas seem a little less common these days. Those times are probably gone forever. Screenwriter salaries don’t seem to end up the subject of international tabloid stories as much as they did in the 1990s.

And writing in all its forms, like almost every facet of life is undoubtedly more competitive today than it once was. And us wordsmiths are poised to have new rivals in the form of robots and computers— so unless we can turn off the internet, this competitive trend is set to continue.

But you can still earn a very decent buck if you can create characters and stories that people want to see. Excellent writers such as Chuck Lorre or Shonda Rhimes— and many many others, receive very healthy remuneration for their talents. You can still get very rich by putting the right words in the right order on a page! If exorbitant sums of money is your thing, of course.

But chances are, that won’t happen to most of us, statistically speaking…well at least not overnight anyway.

For many of us, short films are our entry point on the winding yellow brick road to screen riches. It is kind of like being an intern at Goldman Sachs— a well worn path to fame and fortune, with similar working hours. And if you plan to be a hyphenate and produce and direct your own short too, you will get even less sleep.

Shorts are where we learn our craft, make a few mistakes and understand how the industry works. Think of them as the first round of The X Factor. It’s our equivalent of co-ordinated pop band dance moves and perma-smiles. They help us learn how to unbutton our shirt whilst twirling in a circle— metaphorically speaking. We all have to start somewhere.

Winning short screenplay or film festival contests is nice— good luck to you this year by the way. And get your scripts in before April 13th if you have yet to submit. They can bring prize money and a bit of media attention— but generally shorts don’t give you that regular pay cheque— or indeed provide quite the same level of reward as say Adam Mckay gets. The world of short film does not quite work in the same manner as Golf or Tennis. The prizes don’t get come with sponsorship deals with Nike or Adidas.

So here is the thing. Some of us don’t make it into the rarefied world of megabucks paid screenwriting. And even the best of the best have periods in their lives when they need to earn money elsewhere. Not you, of course— you will make it to the top— I’m referring to all the other people! The Oscar winning Ronald Bass got all the way to law firm partner before he published his first novel, and he was 43 before he produced his first screenplay. He earned a decent living elsewhere before his leap into the film world.

But the interesting thing is, and the less tongue-in-cheek point, is the ability to construct a narrative or create a character arc are among the most transferable skills I have encountered. I have spent most of my working life in commerce: financial services, technology, consulting— that kind of thing. That’s the world that has paid for the roof over my head, whilst I practice my literary hobby.

And here’s one thing I’ve learned…

It is easy to spot people who have spent some time in their lives writing fiction. The skills they have developed from learning this writing craft thing really do shine through. It’s a priceless talent to possess.

This is because, and this is true more now than ever, all businesses need to change— often quite rapidly. And it is really helpful if you are able to articulate that narrative of change clearly. And it is a surprisingly rare trait. But anyone who writes fiction does this every day. “We used to sell this product, but now we have to sell this” is a narrative. “Our staff used to be good at responding to customer queries via the telephone, but now need to learn the skills to respond via multiple technological channels” are character arcs. The workforce probably won’t need to fight Orcs or the Harkonnen to fulfill their working destinies, but they will need to adapt and change.

An ability to explain this clearly and engagingly truly is a magic power.

So here’s the thing. Write your short scripts. Learn your craft. Practice. Write features. Enter competitions and network with producers and directors. Whatever it takes. And if the Gods are willing, you will carve a path to become the next Seth Mcfarlane or Jane Goodman. That is a dream that’s worth pursuing. There is after all no business like show business.