Screenwriting & The Genius Bar

The other day our iPod nano died. Less than a year and it stopped powering on.

And this is how I found myself sitting in Soho's Apple Store, walking up to the Genius Bar, marveling at the house that Steve Jobs built. The brand that is Apple.

The Genius Bar is Apple's repair shop. Sleek, professional, hip, full of smart, diverse, welcoming folks in cool blue T-shirts that declare in tiny print: Not all heroes wear capes.

There was a concierge milling about with his laptop on his arm, checking your appointment, oozing people skills. "I love your name!" he said, as he looked up the roster and told me I was next. I didn't bother to tell him that the appointment was under hubby's name.

As I sat waiting and watching the store's video loop on a row of plasmas, I thought about how so much of business is building the brand. It represents why folks make the purchasing decisions they do...why they choose to do business with some and not others. Hiring a writer, too, is a business decision and it's based not entirely on the cold, hard facts of the product for sale, i.e. the script. They're buying into the brand of the writer.

So what can we learn from Apple? How can we force our way onto the other side of the Screenwriting Genius Bar?

1) Knowledge
I had a chance to listen to the staff talk to numerous customers, from the guy whose Macbook hard drive died to the one with the busted fan. Each "genius" was articulate, able to talk about the evolution of the product, the trends, where things were headed next. Are you articulate about the game? Can you talk the talk? Do you sound like a pro? This isn't to say that you substitute writing for reading how-to books. Hell, if you're talented, brilliant or lucky enough you can not have a clue about trends, never use a common "industry" phrase and have plain lousy communication skills but in a competitive market, these things matter. Sound like you know what you're talking about...or, even better, *know* what you're talking about.

2) Confidence
Knowledge inspires confidence. You know your stuff and you like the opportunity to show it. My genius guy was decisive and assured. He knew the warranty procedure without checking. He anticipated questions I had. He methodically pursued one strategy, then another. Talking you through to the intended goal. He didn't waffle around. Perhaps we should zap the P-Ram...no maybe we should do a hard reboot, no...maybe I should delete preferences. Your customers (producers) are reassured when you have a plan and follow through with precision.

3) Appearance
The geniuses looked the part...in perfect sync with Apple's brand. What is your unique selling position? What makes you and your script special? How you convey who you are matters.

4) Listening Skills
The folks at the Genius Bar had great listening skills. They were super-empathetic. I watched the concierge lead up a guy to the bar and in hushed tones say, "This is Pete. Pete had a really bad day yesterday. A cab ran over his I-Phone." Pete sat and nodded as the Genius bar felt his pain. Gently his genius offered, after the moment of silence, "Can I see it...what were you able to salvage?" And then they brainstormed what they could do for poor Pete.

You'll need these listening skills when you take a producer's notes. What are they really saying when they suggest changes...what's motivating the response.
.
.
.
.

By way of contrast, I had the opposite experience recently at Ikea Brooklyn: a contentious customer service person in returns who seemed to wear her ability to ignore you like a badge of honor. When hubby suggested to the non-genius that she should open the flat-packed box on a table rather than leaning against her register to avoid furniture parts falling to the floor, she pretty much rolled her eyes...whatever.

When she did open the box, of course, the wood pieces did tumble, though in all fairness, she caught them before they hit the floor. But there wasn't a single sympathetic word about how frustrating it can be to put together Ikea's stuff, not a sad shake of the head about the fact that it was our second trip to customer service in two days, that the whole problem had originated at Ikea itself with the parts in the wrong bin. Nope. They were gonna do whatever they were gonna do. And they weren't going to tell you what that was. And they were gonna take their damn time about it.

In short, don't be this screenwriter. Or if you're determined to be, have an amazing, must-have product/script that can survive you acting like an ass.