Here's a conversation almost every composer avoids.
A director reaches out. They love your work. They want you to score their project. You feel that rush β validation, excitement, the sense that this could be the one.
And in that moment, you do the thing that quietly costs composers more than almost anything else in this business.
You start writing.
You don't ask about the fee. You don't clarify what rights you're keeping. You don't define the scope β how many minutes of music, how many revisions, what "done" actually looks like. You just start, because the conversation about money and terms feels awkward, and you don't want to seem difficult before you've even proven yourself.
I get it. I avoided that conversation for years too.
Here's what happens when you skip it
You write for two weeks. You deliver a first pass. The director loves it, but now wants three more variations β "just to see." You do them, because you're already in it. Weeks later you're finally talking about payment, except now you've done four times the work you originally imagined, and asking for what you deserve feels like it comes with an apology attached.
Or worse β you finish the whole score, hand it over, and only then discover the contract language means you've signed away your publishing for a fee that doesn't remotely reflect it.
By the time money and rights come up organically, you've already lost your leverage. You're emotionally invested. You've already done the work. The director assumes your silence early on meant agreement to whatever comes next.
Why having this conversation first actually works in your favor
It feels counterintuitive, but composers who bring up scope, fee, and rights before writing a single note are the ones who get treated like professionals β not the ones who get seen as difficult.
Here's why:
It signals you value your time. Directors work with a lot of composers. The ones who set clear expectations early stand out immediately as someone who takes this seriously β which, ironically, makes directors trust you more, not less.
It prevents scope creep before it starts. When "three cues" is defined upfront, "just one more variation" becomes a conversation instead of an assumption.
It gives you real negotiating room. Before you've delivered anything, you have leverage. After you've delivered, you don't. That window closes fast, and it only opens once.
It filters out the wrong projects immediately. Some directors will push back or go quiet when you bring this up early. That's useful information β you just found out in five minutes what would have otherwise cost you five weeks.
What to actually say
You don't need a lawyer or a twenty-page contract to have this conversation. Something simple works:
"I'm excited about this project. Before I start writing, can we quickly align on scope β how many minutes of music, the number of revision rounds included, the fee, and delivery timeline? I like to have that clear upfront so we're both on the same page."
That's it. Direct, professional, not adversarial. Most directors will respect it immediately. The ones who bristle at a completely reasonable question are telling you something important about what it would be like to work with them.
The bottom line
The awkwardness of this conversation lasts about ninety seconds. The cost of avoiding it can last the entire length of a project β or follow you in the form of a contract you didn't fully understand.
Have the conversation first. Every time. It's not unprofessional to ask. It's unprofessional not to.
This is exactly the kind of conversation I walk through in detail inside Score Your First Scene β the exact scripts, when to bring up money, and how to handle it when a director pushes back.
Launching August 1st, with early bird spots still open.
Reply to this email or reach out at tommy@scoreschoolacademy.com if you want in before the doors open.
-Tommy: ScoreSchool