Slumdog Millionaire writer Simon Beaufoy opened Day 2 of the Cheltenham Screenwriters’ Festival and, unsurprisingly, the venue was packed. Definitely the most eloquent and down-to-earth guest speaker so far, Simon talked for over an hour on the script-development process, and how important it is for a screenwriter to nail the art of diplomacy.

Having worked on low-budget films such as The Full Monty early in his early career, and more recently on high-budget Oscar winners, Simon was well equipped to talk about the sometimes-difficult relationship between writer and financial investors. It was interesting to get an insight into the commercial sphere. As a writer, he described the tolerance you must learn to acquire when dealing with producers who, “having pumped five million pounds into your film are approaching the project with a ‘business head’ rather than a creative one.”

He went on to illustrate the pros of doing a small budget picture; for one, you’re more likely to retain creative control, but you also need to work to form a relationship with your producers. Finding a way to incorporate everyone’s ideas is integral; only recently, Simon personally learnt how malleable a screenplay is, and how collaborative it can be.

Coping with critiques

The same nugget of advice has surfaced three times in the past two days from writers when discussing criticism, and I think it translates into various writing mediums not solely screenwriting – Take time to read your notes; react later. Don’t loose your head when you first hear people’s critiques. Simon understands a writer’s pain, as did script editor Esther Wouda yesterday, who sympathised “You’ll want to defend your darlings on the spot, but take the time to go home and process what you’ve heard; and use hindsight.”

Pitch and bitch

Day 2 of The Screenwriters’ Festival invited (pre-selected) delegates to take to the stage to pitch their feature ideas, which later, between ourselves, Holly and I celebrated and admired or shot down and ripped apart. As the pitch session wasn’t open to the audience, it was satisfying to discuss the delegate’s ideas in private and suggest solutions. For example, some of the delegate’s feature ideas didn’t seem concise enough; some would potentially work better in another medium, radio perhaps; others didn’t have a believable-enough antagonist. It was satisfying adlibbing what we would change were the ideas ours. I’m keen to develop my script-editing skills in the next year, and to learn more about this acute art.

Tips for new writers

I’ve been gathering soundbites – which we'll upload once we master the technology – but I’ve also realised that delegates are incredibly busy, so have asked the same quick-fire question: What’s your top tip for emerging screenwriters looking to break into the industry? People can then be as snappy, obscure, serious or light-hearted as they want with the pressure of a dictaphone being stuck in their face.

Life is hectic here at the info desk. What's the wierdest question we've been asked so far? One man has approached the desk a total of three times to explain how important food is to him and to give us too much detail about the emotions the festival food incites in him. Depending on what mood he’s in, he’ll usually go on to inquire about the best Japanese eatery or curry house in Cheltenham. It’s bizarre. "Does your stomach require a delegate pass, too, Sir?" I am tempted to ask!

Jessica Mayne