The dos and don’ts of script feedback
How to become a better script reader: 10 things I’ve learned from my rejections that have informed my practice as a dramaturg.
Sometimes, script feedback doesn’t quite hit the nail on the head. Sometimes, it’s just confusing. And sometimes, it’s downright disparaging and makes you want to throw your whole script in the bin.
As a playwright and dramaturg, I’ve been on both sides of the feedback process. I wanted to write this post to share some tips about how to write feedback that doesn’t make writers want to crawl into a hole and cry.
For your entertainment, I’ve included some examples of the don’ts. These are all real pieces of feedback I’ve received on my own plays. Obviously, the plays could have been better — but so could the feedback.
1. Be kind
Don’t sound hurtful or discouraging. Be mindful of your tone when writing your script report — try not to sound blunt (unless you’ve been asked to). Read it back to hear how it sounds, and ask yourself how you’d feel if you received that feedback. Don’t do this:
There is no substantial development.
Do be kind. Obviously. Also, no compliment sandwiches — aim to phrase all of your feedback kindly.
Some of the following points also link to being kind, but first and foremost writing feedback that comes across as kind stems from having the writer’s feelings in mind at all times, and looking for the potential in every script and aiming to foster that rather than squash someone’s faith in their piece. Do that!
2. Start with the strengths
Don’t jump straight in with the negatives. Even if the script was atrocious and you can’t think of anything positive at all, at least open with some pleasantries thanking the writer for sending you their script. Don’t open with this as your first line:
The event that Anna references, the night that she recalls throughout the piece - what was it? What exactly happened?
Do spend some time focusing on the positives first. Pick out a line you liked, a character you felt connected to, something that made you laugh or something that moved you.
It’s important to highlight the strengths of a piece and tell writers what’s working well — it helps our confidence in the piece and also means we won’t accidentally cut the good bits in our redraft!
3. Avoid ‘should’
Don’t use blanket statements about what you think scripts or stories ‘should’ be or ‘should’ have. Consider other perspectives. Don’t do this:
An audience will need to feel some sense of why they should sympathise with the story.
Do focus on the nuances of the script you are reading, and the writer’s intentions for their piece. Are they trying to experiment with form or challenge conventions? How can you help them do this?
4. Frame your opinions as opinions
Don’t frame your personal preferences and beliefs about the piece and the form as facts. This can sound heavy handed, and it’s important to remember that there might be other valid ways of doing things. So don’t do this:
The audience needs to understand Anna, see her as a complete person with memories, family, living in a world, without which there is nothing to anchor onto.
Do frame your feedback as being your personal opinions and thoughts. Language is important. Unless you’re writing on behalf of an organisation, stick to using the first person.
You don’t have to do this in every sentence, but peppering your feedback with phrases like “I think”, “I liked” and “I wondered whether” helps it feel more personal and is a green flag that says to the writer ‘these are just my thoughts — I’m aware that they may not all work for you, and that’s okay!’
5. Make it actionable
Don’t just point out problems without offering thoughts about how they can be resolved. Your feedback isn’t the most helpful it can be if it leaves the writer thinking ‘So what do I actually do now?’ — so don’t do this:
The three characters in the play seem to only exist to serve the form rather than to shape and push forward the narrative. This leaves the reader with a lack of anything to hold on to. It’s arguable that this could be a feature of the form itself, but it currently feels imbalanced in a way that would be detrimental to an audience’s experience.
Do make your feedback actionable. Rather than leaving the writer to pore over what you’ve written, interpret it and translate the negatives into a list of questions and possible actions, do that for them — remember that the writer will be searching for guidance in your feedback and for things that they can try out to improve their play. Try to break these down into the next manageable actions.
Ask lots of questions and make suggestions that will get the writer thinking — more on this below — and perhaps even suggest resources to check out or exercises that they can try that might help develop a certain aspect of their play. For example, if a problem is that there are lots of characters who all sound the same and lack distinct voices, suggest an exercise where the writer covers up all the names down the side of the play to see if they can still distinguish who is speaking.
6. Suggest several possibilities
Don’t tell the writer what to do, or what you would do. It isn’t your play. Don’t do this:
As he has been introduced, his role in the piece needs to be brought more into the foreground, otherwise Anna could be entirely alone and the story would be the same.
Do offer suggestions in the form of questions that will prompt the writer to think of multiple options and solutions of their own. Your job is to help the writer best tell the story that they want to tell, not to get them to write the play that you would write.
Even if you feel there’s an obvious solution that you would go for, give a few other options too. Presenting more than one possibility avoids limiting the writer to one thing and is also more likely to spark ideas and get the writer thinking about further possibilities of their own. Again, language is important too — use phrases like “you could consider” or “perhaps” instead of “you need to”.
7. Be specific
Don’t make vague statements that assume that the writer will know what you mean and how to do it — this is especially important when you won’t be engaging in a dialogue with the writer after you send your report, so they won’t have the opportunity to ask questions. For example, I’m still not sure I understand what this means:
It might be that you deliberately don’t want the play to frame Alma within any pre-existing societal narratives. In which case I’m sure you could invent a device, or theatrical gesture that feels totally unique to Michael and Alma.
Do be specific about what you mean and give examples and possibilities. It is better to slightly over-explain your point, short of stating the obvious, than to leave a writer guessing and never truly knowing what you meant, which may well have been a very helpful point simply written in an unclear way.
8. Find the potential in every script
Don’t write feedback that could squash a writer’s faith in their piece just because you didn’t like it, didn’t understand it, or because you thought it was badly written. Again, don’t do this:
There is no substantial development.
Do look for the potential in every script. Find the positives that can be built upon, and consider other perspectives to your own too — how might someone else, perhaps with different lived experiences to you, interpret the play? This along with phrasing is key.
For example, the above piece of feedback, though blunt, has a valid point within it — the reader thought there wasn’t a clear enough change in the character from start to finish. Had they phrased it differently, it would have been a kinder and more helpful note.
They could have said: ‘I would have liked to have seen more of a change in the character; you might try mapping out her arc to see which parts you could develop further. Perhaps you could consider putting her through more events so that there’s more room to show her development, or maybe simply giving more time to her point of view at the end would do the trick.’
However, the way they chose to phrase it — There is no substantial development — made me feel, when I received it as a very new writer, as if the play was useless and that there was nothing good about it that was worth developing or that even could be developed. Don’t do this!
9. Be open to ambiguity
Don’t assume that you are entitled to the answers, or to clarification of your particular interpretation. Sometimes, writers leave things open or ambiguous on purpose. Instead, think about why that might be, and what other interpretations might be valid. Don’t do this:
I wasn’t sure if Michael sees Alma as someone his mother’s age that he feels a bit protective/sorry for or a glamorous woman who only looks a few years older and who he is physically attracted to. It could help to clarify the subtext in Alma and Michael’s relationship, if the script is a little bit more specific about Alma’s age and the age gap between them. To me, Alma seemed more early forties.
Actually, even though this example was unhelpful in this case because the ambiguity was intentional, it’s quite nice as feedback because they’ve framed it as simply a suggestion that’s their own opinion using phrases like “it could help” and “to me”. Definitely don’t do this:
The event that Anna references, the night that she recalls throughout the piece — what was it? What exactly happened? The vagueness of the event, and of Anna means that the piece is lacking character depth and personal investment for the audience as we aren’t sure what is going on, or the significance of her talking to us.
Do assume that the writer has thought about the basics — if something doesn’t make sense to you at first, spend a little longer considering it. Keep in mind that you could be wrong, and think about the answers to your own questions!
As an audience member, I like a bit of mystery — I like to leave thinking ‘What was that about?’ or ‘What did that bit mean?’ More often than not, I come up with my own interpretations and theories. Leaving room for this kind of thought is the whole point of anything that is supposed to be watched, read or listened to by an audience. Don’t squash it!
10. Consider other perspectives
This last one is a more general reminder and discussion. As several of these points have already touched on, being a dramaturg is not so much about giving your own perspective as it is about thinking about the many different ways in which a piece could be interpreted.
While it’s useful for writers to hear your personal gut reaction to a piece, it’s also just as important for them to hear your thoughts on how the piece might be received in different ways. The audience is not one cohesive body that thinks and feels in unison — try to recognise when you are speaking from ‘I’ and make that clear to the writer and, equally, challenge yourself to think outside of this and consider how other audience members may respond.
I’ll end with the reminder that it’s totally fine as a script reader to think ‘I’m not enjoying this, it’s not my cup of tea!’ or even to say to the writer ‘I didn’t understand / wasn’t sure about this bit…’ — as long as you also recognise that your view is not the be all and end all! Someone else might get it, enjoy it, really relate to it. Try to see past your own gut reaction to find the writer’s intentions — you can say things like ‘However, I can see that [someone else] might really relate to that aspect of the character, or that thing that happened…’ or ‘It seems to me that you’re going for this thing — if that’s the case then perhaps try this thing.’
Basically, just be nice!
That’s it — I hope you’ve found this useful! Let me know what you think of the dos and don’ts I’ve mentioned here and if you think I’ve missed any!
Also, why does bad feedback happen so often? Any theories? Personally I suspect there’s a lack of guidance from organisations on how to actually sound like a nice person when writing a script report, but I’d love to hear your thoughts too!
Thanks for reading! Please get in touch if you’re interested in anything I do — you can find me at
here on Substack or on Instagram @kayleigh.hinsley! You can also access my script reading service here, which I run on a pay-what-you-can basis for writers looking for feedback on their plays!