Why Screenwriters Aren’t Swimming in Money (Even If They Wrote Your Favorite Movie)
Why screenwriters can’t afford their own plot twists
If you tell someone you’re a screenwriter, they’ll probably assume one of two things: you’re broke and living in your parents’ basement, or you’re cashing $10 million checks while sipping martinis on a yacht. (Side note: where is this mythical yacht, and can I live there rent-free?)
Because for most screenwriters, the real glamour is the thrilling choice between ordering guac on their burrito or paying the electric bill. Spoiler alert: the lights usually win.
But the truth is, screenwriters are trapped in a bizarre financial limbo—too broke to buy a Tesla, but too proud to admit they’re driving a 2010 Prius with a check-engine light that’s been on since Mad Men was on the air. Let’s unpack why screenwriters don’t make as much money as your aunt believes when she forwards you that Deadline article titled, “Hollywood Writer Gets $3 Million Deal for Zombie Unicorn Script.”
The Illusion of Big Paychecks
Yes, it’s true that some screenwriters sign six-figure deals. But those deals are like Instagram vacation photos—there’s a lot you’re not seeing.
First off, that six-figure payday? It’s usually spread out over months, if not years! Studios pay in increments, so while the announcement makes headlines, the actual money trickles in slower than your Wi-Fi during a storm. Plus, a hefty chunk of that goes to taxes, agents, managers, and lawyers. By the end, the writer might net less than half.
Most Scripts Don’t Even Get Made
Here’s a real plot twist: a screenwriter’s masterpiece usually never sees the light of day. I have a successful friend who sold over 10 scripts. But zero got made! The majority of scripts get stuck in development hell, where they’re endlessly rewritten, shelved, or forgotten entirely. (It’s like being ghosted, but by a major studio.) Studios buy scripts all the time, only to leave them languishing in a folder marked “Someday.” This means screenwriters spend years tweaking drafts for free, hoping their project won’t be overtaken by a new trend.
Imagine being asked to write the Great American Novel, knowing there’s a 90% chance your editor will say, “We love it, but can you make the main character a Minion?” And you still don’t get paid extra.
Writers are often paid for their drafts, but that’s it. No production means no bonuses, no royalties, and no chance to say, “That’s my movie!” when the trailer drops.
Residuals: Not as Glamorous as They Sound
Residuals sound sexy in theory: a movie or show does well, and you get a little extra money every time it airs. Except streaming has turned this system into a financial escape room.
Here’s how it works: instead of getting a check every time your show is watched, Netflix hands over a lump sum upfront, usually accompanied by a shrug and a vague promise of "visibility." Translation? If you wrote a hit movie in the ‘90s, you’re still making money. If you wrote a hit show for Hulu last year, congratulations on your free subscription!
The Hustle Never Stops
Screenwriting isn’t just sitting around, conjuring up plot twists. It’s pitching, rewriting, and juggling multiple projects to stay afloat. For every script that sells, there are dozens of unpaid drafts, abandoned ideas, and meetings where a producer’s feedback boils down to, “Can you make it more… Marvel-y?”
Contrary to popular belief, most screenwriters are not rolling in script money—they’re rolling in side gigs. Many teach, write novels, or take on corporate gigs because Hollywood checks arrive slower than your grandma’s AOL email attachments.
Why We Keep Writing Anyway
So why stick with it? Because screenwriting is like a toxic relationship you can’t quit. Sure, it’s underpaid, unstable, and often cruel, but every once in a while, you get to see your words come to life on screen. It’s magical… and also a great excuse to tell people you “work in Hollywood” at parties.
Screenwriters might not be super rich, but they’re dreamers—and that’s worth more than any paycheck. (Though, if someone could start paying them fairly, that’d be great too. Looking at you, Hollywood.)
And if you’re thinking of becoming a screenwriter, I say go for it. Just don’t quit your day job—or your night job—or your dog-walking gig. You’re gonna need all three.
And if you’re a fellow screenwriter reading this? Order the guac. You deserve it.
XO
Eden