YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

Those damn gatekeepers aren’t recognizing our talent. They’re not reading the work! If they’d just look, they’d get it, and we’d all make bank! What the hell, gatekeepers? 

Am I right? 

lol No.

Let’s look at the writing world; script or novel, and really scrutinize the gatekeeper problem that’s been holding you back. 

Who Dares Stand in My Way? 

When I think of a gatekeeper, I think of a large, armored knight with a halberd, their face indistinguishable beneath their helmet, their eyes glowing. I imagine two of them, standing before a large portcullis, on the other side of a bridged moat. I can feel their hatred towards all who dare try to enter. 

But that’s not really who the gatekeepers are. 

Not for most writers. 

Most writers who aren’t published, or whose scripts have not garnered them some heat, range in skill between amateur and budding professional. These writers have all had to contend with the concept of the gatekeepers barring their path. I’ll get back to you, but first, a quick caveat. 

The gatekeeping conversation is different in each industry, and in each respective art. For many artists of different types, the gatekeepers in their way are exactly as I described above. For most budding writers, however, this just isn’t the case. I’m aware there’s different gatekeeping for different aspects of life. We’re focusing on one specific aspect today. 

Budding writers. 

Your gatekeepers take up a specific spot on the path to writing success. They are not giant armored impositions. They are lions, except they bear the face of a woman, and the wings of eagles. Your gatekeepers, fellow writer, are actually sphinx. 

They’re blocking your path because you need to solve a riddle to get by. 

Here’s the riddle: 

“Tell me a story that evokes feelings.”

When you can successfully do that, as succinctly as possible, you’ll be on your way. The problem is most writers haven’t accomplished this yet. 

Which brings us to one of the hardest pills to swallow when you’re first starting out:

Writers Prevent Themselves from Success

Calm down, cowboy, let me explain. 

I am one of the founders of HoneySpot Productions, a publishing company based out of BC. I remember the day I became a publisher, a letter arrived on my doorstep. It contained a list of secret URLs, a weird rusted key, and a giant silver platter for me to eat my meals off of. The URLs lead to all the secret discord groups that discuss which writers we want to let in, and why. It was magical. 

Obviously, I’m kidding. But once I became a publisher, I suddenly found I had a small role as the dreaded gatekeeper I’ve always envisioned. I was the armored giant with the halberd. 

So I read unpublished novels. You know what I quickly realized? The writers hadn’t gone through the lessons I’ve had to in order to get this far. Some were really close, some were not. All had more to do before they were ready for publishing. 

I always bristled whenever someone complained about the Hollywood gatekeepers. It felt like a term that was doing the writer a major disservice. It implied that someone was actively preventing them from succeeding. 

So I did what poker trained me to do: I looked inward, and asked myself if my script was professionally competitive .Once I did that, I sought out acclaimed mentors who worked in Hollywood, and I learned what I already knew to be true in my heart of hearts: I was the first gatekeeper in my way. 

I needed to answer the riddle of the sphinx.  

Great Stories Stand Out

When you read enough manuscripts, you’ll see this clear as day. I read a friend’s book (I’m excited to link to it once they find publishing), and the beginning had some problems that really got under my skin. But by page ten, I really wanted to know what the protagonist was going to do next. 

I suddenly realized I was rooting for the protagonist. This writer had solved one of the riddles of the sphinx. 

And then I realized something else: the gatekeepers don’t want to be in our way. I loved this manuscript so much that the idea of discovering other great manuscripts fuelled me! I want to champion this writer, even though my publishing company might not tackle their genre. I want to see this person succeed. 

Gatekeepers want you to solve the riddle. They want you to succeed! 

The Key to Success

It’s mastery of your craft. To be a master means your product reliably does its job, every time. You don’t need to be perfect, or even an expert, but you need to be a master writer. You need to command story. You need to be able to boil your ideas down succinctly, to convey why you care, why I should care. You need to deliver on the promises you make. 

You need to be the authority as the author. 

Now, once your work is truly good enough that people want to see it succeed, you’ve passed the sphinx. You’re on the way forward. 

You unlock a new problem here: the actual business of art. You won’t believe this, but my publishing company doesn’t just publish whatever genre happens to cross our desk. Why? Because carving out a niche takes time and effort, and my team doesn’t like to read certain genres. Why would we waste time in a genre we weren’t super passionate about? 

So automatically, if you come at me with a genre I don’t work in, my gate is locked to you. I’m not the gatekeeper here, the business of art is. If your work is truly great, and you find the people who love the same work you do, the business of art will be excited to have you. 

Mostly. Business and art is real fickle. 

But I know that MOST writers aren’t there yet. And of those writers, many balk at the damn gatekeepers in their way, never realizing that they’re angry at themselves. 

The great sage Taylor said it best: I’m the problem, it’s me. 

And Finally: Acceptance

All that’s left now is to work over your novel or script until it’s amazing. Find great readers. Pay true experts for notes (beware of the snakes). Elevate your work until it’s master-class. Answer the sphinx’s riddle, and head to Thebes (don’t emulate Oedipus any further than this). Make people surprised at how great your work is, and you’ll find the key was inside you all along. 

You’ve got this!