If there's one thing that really makes my ballbag shrivel up like a walnut with rage it's aspiring writers moaning about the restrictive conditions of a competition, or the supposed conventions they are supposed to follow to get their break in screenwriting.
If a production company launch a shout out for multi strand ethnic based TV dramas they're not discriminating against your fascinating radio monologue based on the memoirs of a Lincolnshire teabagger, they are just looking for a certain type of product. Similarly, if you're a vegan chef don't wander into a McDonalds and mouth off as to why they don't need your ingenious exploding quinoa volcano salad. They're not fucking interested, it's not their thing, get over it. Or, sweep up some shit you just saw creep out of a dog's arse, fashion it into the shape of a burger and see if they're interested in that. Not that they would be of course, McDonalds food is excellent.
Know your market, don't waste their time and yours.
I hear a lot of aspiring writers bitch about the ten page rule - if your script lands on the desk of a script reader and they don't know what it's all about within ten pages then it's in the bin.
"But what about my incredible drama - it's a real tearjerker, but the inciting event of the lesbian lover having her tit blown off doesn't happen until page fifteen, and I'm not bringing it forward, it would kill it."
"I've just watched my twenty favourite Hungarian movies and in none of them does the inciting event happen in the first ten minutes."
So fucking what. They are asking for a piece that does have an inciting event in the first ten pages, they are not asking for you to set fire to every script you've written that doesn't follow this convention, then collect the ashes into an urn, which you then stick up your arse and fuck off while you're at it.
They are saying woo me with a script which follows conventions, lubricate my script reading clitoris with your wordplay and dextrous rule following. Then, when I know what you're doing you can stick your engorged arthouse script into my welcoming pigeonhole.
Or, you can you just carry on being angry, ignoring the advice and getting nowhere. I don't give a shit - you're my competition, after all.