Credit where it’s due
Paul Guyot got things started by talking about how cool it is to share ideas with writer friends, but now the discussion has turned a little thorny, thanks to a question posed by his friend Alex Epstein:
so when you have your writing buddy over and talk pilot, and in the conversation you fix all your problems and come up with springboards…
… what is your buddy entitled to? I love talking about my stuff with my writer friends, and yes I’d hire them onto the show. But at what point does it stop being your own idea? When does the idea really belong to both of you?
I guess it’s my assumption that unless I’m officially "invited in" then all contributions rightfully belong to my friend.
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Guyot responds:
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As to your query – and again, this is only me and my experience – I feel if a writer friend asks me for help on a story, I will give him/her anything I have and expect nothing more than a thank you in return. Seriously. And when I’m talking story with someone (my story) and they give me specific mountains of gold that I just have to use, I will say thank you and maybe buy them lunch or dinner – depending on the scenario….
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If I helped out one of my friends with a story, be it screen or prose, and they offered me a shared credit, I would turn it down. Now, obviously there’s a difference between just "talking out story problems" and literally coming up with an idea together, but in the context of the previous thread, I would not expect something in return and I would expect my friends to feel the same way.
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I tend to agree with Guyot — it’s great fun to sit back and bounce ideas around with writer friends, especially when a simple suggestion elicits the kind of "EUREKA!" moment that you’ve been waiting for, whether for yourself or your friend. And if that idea goes on to great success, how could I not be happy for said friend?
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But this discussion brings to mind an anecdote from the early 1970s featuring Shel Silverstein and Dr. Hook, for whom he wrote the bulk of their songs in the early days of their career. At one point, all the band members were sitting in a room and fighting over who should get credit for a particular song. This person had contributed, so he should get it. But no, this person contributed more. And on it went until Shel walked in and found out what was going on.
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He told them they were nuts to fight like this. "Whenever I write a song and someone suggests something, gives me an idea, I always give them credit."
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The band members looked at him, stunned. "But why?" said one of them.
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"Because why should I act like this song’s the last good idea I’ll ever have?"
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And true to form, Silverstein would give credit to other writers, no matter how small the contribution. It made several of them some sizable sums over their lifetimes, too.
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