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ScreenwriterBones

Stories from a seasoned screenwriter. Take heart! Your creative source is infinite and un-ending. Sometimes Hollywood just rips up the roadmap back to it. The bottom line is that Hollywood is not at all as bad as it sounds. Additionally, it's worse than you can imagine. Remember to pack a sense of humor.

Name: Phil

I am a writer living in southern california. One of the uncredited writers of FANTASTIC FOUR, I wrote FIRE DOWN BELOW starring Steven Seagal, and the TV Movie 12:01 PM starring Martin Landau and MANEATER with Gary Busey which aired on SciFi channel in 2008. I have directed short films, comedy shorts. I have written on numerous studio assignments, some for big shot actors, some for small shot nobodies.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Words as Toys

I have a friend who was lamenting the other night that he didn't write something like MY BIG FAT GREEK WEDDING, because even though it was crap it did so well at the box office.

Are we having fun yet?

First of all, I thought the movie was funny.

Second of all, all I could think of to say was - the author didn't write it to make a box office smash, she wrote it because she loved writing it and it cracked her up.

Same for JACKASS, by the way. Sure there's a financial formula involved, but those jack asses really LIKE what they're doing and it shows.

The energy that goes into any project, is the energy we feel coming back out of it.

If that energy is fun, if your happiness goes in, or even if it's bittersweet and you're writing a tragedy, if it's still thrilling to you, soul healing, or just plain fun, we'll feel it.

Andthat's contagious.

So don't forget to play with words as if they were toys.

And don't play with words as if each line has to make $200 mill at the box office.

It's more of a problem for those who are successful. You begin feeling like you have to feed that success and you begin to second guess and doubt yourself. When the reality is, if you just be true to the fun you're having, the success will just come.

I'm a bootleg music collector, Beatles primarily, and the one thing that has blown me away when I hear a rehearsal track, or an out take of an incredibly famous song, is how much fun these guys were having together when they worked. Experimenting, trying different versions of the same song, not afraid to completely kill a slow version of something and turn it into something fast and you suddenly recognize the hit. What starts as a ballad on one track, becomes a hard rock hit several tracks later. Same song. Or the heavy metal sounding jam because a lighter rock hit because they pulled way back on the intensity - and you recognize the hit. They were incredibly unattached to what something had to be - they just loved an idea, ran with it, played with it, listened to it, followed the flow where it took them - until it felt right.

Don't be afraid to follow the flow and play even as you work within an outline.

And truly, the energy you put into your project is the energy people will get back out when they pick it up and read it.

Think of words as toys.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Write the Unsaid

Real dialogue has as much said as there is unsaid, as there is in any real discussion between two (or more) people.

Furious at your father, you may not mention your feelings.
In love with the woman you're speaking to, and she's unaware, you may not mention it.
Dreaming he'll ask you to marry him, it may not come up when you chat, but it's on your mind.

In drama the unsaid is very powerful, and it pulls us into that empty moment.

How do you write the unsaid?

You must know the emotional life of your characters. You must know not only how they feel in a specific moment, but what is the arc of emotions in their story. Often a character's mind wants something - that drives the plot (money, sex, power, an item) and their heart want something as well - (love of a stranger, reconciliation with a loved one, redemption for past failure) and that is what is completely UNSAID.

Specifically, it is unsaid TO the primary object of affection.

Crucial that is IS SAID to a trusted friend, ally, or piece of paper with a voice over.

That's the challenge in the spoken drama, how do you get OUT of the character's head? The friend can be a shoulder to cry on, or the voice of conscience urging action. So that the HEART story can be voiced. But when it comes down to closing the deal, the hero can't do it. They can't say what needs to be said, can't heal the wound, and has a moment of LOSS, an opportunity missed, perhaps eternally, where the loved one moves off. That is the power of the unsaid - the hero has to be facing the abyss of LOSS after a moment where they could have succeeded. Perhaps time and time again. But ultimately that is too unbearable, forcing them to grow - take a chance - and face their heart's desire and finally SAY the UNSAID.

We've seen it a thousand times in love stories and when it works at the end, it's incredible. Sometimes the unsaid is an action and it's the spontaneous passionate kiss - and when the lovers melt into each other - nothing needs to be said, you've shown it.

In an action film - not surprisingly - action has to accompany this moment, and it's often the physical action that has been UN-ACTIONALBE. Can the hero slay the dragon, essentially, after past failures and current narrow escapes where friends and loved ones have been lost in the struggle? The weight of failure resting so squarely on their shoulders that victory seems a distant dream. But the hero never gives up hope, or re-discovers hope, and re-commits to their mission, so that in the final moment, when they do slay the dragon, it carries that same power.

Less is more.

Write the unsaid.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Let the work reveal itself

You've heard this before, but you've got to be in love with the process, as well as the product.

After I get a great idea, and sit down with my outline and figure out exactly what I'm going to do, that's when I really discover how little I know about my own idea.

Happens to me, anyway, just about every time.

Interestingly, my structure usually stays pretty much the same, usually 75%. But as the interior life of the piece goes from dough to diamonds - that's where the real brutality lies.

Because the only way I can let my idea out into the world is to write it out, over and over, until things start happening i never thought of.

I throw away first drafts and first passes as motivations that seemed to make sense in an outline don't play in scenes. Characters that were just glimpses of an idea, suddenly talk with more authority than my lead.

I used to take this as clear cut evidence that I had no idea what I was doing.

Now I realize that it's more like I'm being done to.

The way a seed grows from the inside out, so I find I have to write from the inside out, in that if I'm not wholly in my character's voice, or thoughts, it all pales anyway.

And something cool plotwise that worked mindfully in the outline - may not make sense once a character locks in tighter than I expected.

That's how I know I'm writing something worth while. When it begins to reveal an emotional solidity, an undeniable reality that seems as real as memory.

Let the work reveal itself even if it shies from away from first thoughts. It may be leading you to it's best self.

If you're re-writing, and are assigned to keep your structure, find this in the inner landscape of the characters. Let their inner lives reveal things that make the spaces you are in make a deeper sense in their story.

Remember how loss connects us to a place, fills us with doubt, haunts our lives, creates the need for redemption or rebirth.

How does that reveal itself in your story?

Monday, September 18, 2006

Can't Write in Longhand

Getting back from my trip at the end of august I asked my computer to restart a way it couldn't and pretty much shut off its brain and it wouldn't restart. Then my lap top was connected to an external hard drive that was shut of incorrectly and wouldn't restart. Then when it did, it wouldn't connect to the internet. I basically pulled out all my remaining hair in the first 24 hours of coming home. And none of my hardware worked. Couldn't write, couldn't burn disks. So I was pretty much crippled.

It was not a nice feeling. You don't realize how much you rely on something until it's gone.

Don't wait until this is a wife, girlfriend or boyfriend out there by the way.

Anyway, without computers and internet for so long was very disturbing.

and i just can't write long hand anymore.

So up and running again. Will post more today. Wll be sending out CD's very soon! Thank you for your understanding out there!

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Traveling For Much of August

Be back soon, honest. Blogging from out of country has not been user friendly.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Audio CD of Screenwriting Workshop is ready!

Some of you (out of towners) have asked me for, and I have now put together an audio CD of my writing workshop!

As I said to one of the attendees from last weekend: "In the end, I think a lot of these 'screenwriting systems' lose sight of how simple it has to be, how little you really need to prepare, and how much to trust the writer with just a few simple guidelines. Then, of course, you just have to work your ass off."

So for those of you who have already ordered, thanks. For those of you who are ready to work your ass off, and are interested in the guidelines for quick story construction and execution, here is some quick feedback from the last workshop:

"Phil has such an extensive understanding of the craft of storytelling, and he freely shares the many techniques that he’s developed during his long career working within the studio system. I’ve taken seminars with McKee, Truby, Michael Hauge, Linda Seegar, and many others, and while it’s always great to hear analysts deconstruct story, there’s nothing like getting tried and true writing tools directly from an accomplished practitioner. This isn’t some enormous screenwriting seminar at your local Hilton, it’s just a working writer chatting craft and structure at his home on a Saturday afternoon. I highly recommend attending the next time he does one."
Warren Hsu Leonard - check out his blog - http://www.screenwritinglife.com
and some more feedback:

"Thanks for your excellent screenwriting seminar. Your informal presentation of structural theory, witty anecdotes, market info, and pitching skills was appropriate for a wide range of screenwriting levels and addressed a lot of the issues and unknowns that I currently struggle with.
Thanks, Matt"
NOTE: And Nick just added:

I had to write real quick and THANK YOU again. By exploring my characters
emotional lines I have discovered my second act in a way I never thought
possible. Your seemingly simple suggestion has accelerated my writing to a whole
new realm. I can not fully express how amazing this. I haven't left my room
since your workshop - I cant stop writing. Thank you, thank you!!


Hey, thanks to all. Of course, my secret is that I think I had more fun than they did. But that's the trick with good writing too, in the end. And the secret of how to always find that place, even amidst horrendous development, is something I talk about too.

You can listen to it in the car like a book on tape, or put it in the computer at home and make a crib sheet. Whatever suits your style the best.

Click on "Audio CD" on the sidebar for more info!

Monday, August 07, 2006

When to Cut and Run, When to Stay and Fight

A very real problem for every screenwriter on any project. You've sold your spec, or handed in your first draft on an assignment, and you're handed a sheaf of notes a mile high that are either constructive and exhaustive, or pig-headed and ignorant. The instinctive response to both is to cut and run, of course. Not that you necessarily do - it's just the fight or flight response. But it's much easier to fly away from a fight. That's survival. You just spent months (years) putting a script together, they bought it and now want to change it. So you want to cry. I know I do.

But the real question posted from the previous post:

"But I'm still looking for that elusive 'rule' that would explain when to cut bait and run vs when to stay in the mix and fight. Both can be painful, and rewarding, in their own ways.

The most frustrating and confusing thing about this process for me is that sometimes, even the ideas that seem like total crap at first look sometimes aren't, and sometimes spawn new directions that couldn't have been anticipated had the crap not been waded through. Ugh!

So, it seems the battle for me is between instinct, belief, and 'stinking thinking.' Which is a roundabout way of coming full circle, because I still have NO IDEA where to draw the line and when to back away. Hope is a funny thing - sometimes, in certain situations, it can be a disastrous come-on leading to wasted energy and time. And sometimes the challenge of applying a new set of ideas can be much too tempting."
The problem is, there is no qualitative rule to give you the exact guideline, no warning sign that is exactly ever the same, and most frustrating - a rosy ending may start in the muck at the bottom of a swamp (and a swampy ending can begin with a dozen roses).

Point of fact: Many years ago a friend of mine is wooed by a big director as his script is so great, he's promised a great creative relationship. Friend sells script to studio with this director. Director then abuses and tortures the hell out of him trying to get him off the script, telling him it's crap, smells like shit, on and on - (because the director wanted him to quit and re-write himself and take credit.) My friend didn't walk, stuck it out, delivered a great re-write the studio loved it and it went into production. The script didn't only do well, but received four academy award nominations - and my friend had an immediate A list career.

I was on a project at Paramount, wrote an original adaptation, and for three years wrote about nine drafts, with two different directors who came on and off the project, in various different step deals. The project is still at Paramount and now, though a great script still exists, there are other less good versions as well, all in the history of this project, and the project is now asleep.

I've never walked from a project. I'm not saying I wouldn't, I'm just saying I haven't hit that moment when my inner 'knowing' says:'bail, now!'

For me the rule would have to be this: You don't write when you are faced with a change of direction you know that you couldn't write well.

Notice I'm not saying a change you don't agree with. As mentioned before, I've had a friend on a project for eight years - countless drafts, finally taking him down roads he not only disagreed with, but wound up taking out every special bit of story that he liked about the project to begin with. Nevertheless, he stuck it out anyway. It was finally greenlit last year because he gave them exactly what they wanted, and the film just finished principle photography in Van Couver. He knew he could still write what they were asking him too - and write it well. He realized it was just good business. And I agree. Part of the gig is craft. And sometimes you're bringing that wholly to a project.

In the Bhagavad Gita, it tells the story of Prince Arjuna, born into the life of a warrior, filled with doubt on the battlefield as he's about to enter a climactic war. He has some beloved relatives and teachers on the enemy side, who he has to head into battle and kill. He balks at this idea. And he's told by his God that in this life he must play out its part. What frees him is a glimpse by the divine of the divine truth, that once we release our attachment to the ego and desire here, we re-join the oneness of God - as does everyone on this battlefield, and beyond there is no suffering.

The teaching, of course, is meant to guide the reader to release his attachment to everything here right now and see the divine in everything, and live a life free of suffering here, whatever walk of life they travel in, well before they are crushed by an army of charioteers.

Good writing can only happen when we release our own attachment to what 'should' be, even in our spec. scripts, and let through what 'has to' be. When you're handed notes and have to re-shape along lines you disagree with - you're merely constructing a new house so that the inspiration of what 'has to' be can flow in the new form.

So we too are offered a path to play out. Re-writing from the notes of others may feel as repulsive as heading into battle to fight your relatives, but somehow we've attracted this life, and the sword in our hand is our pen. If you release your attachment, and release your resistance, you have a good shot of writing well.

And in the end, that's what we're here to do. Good writing will always generate more work, if not on the project you're on, then on another. Bad writing is a dead end.

I always vote to stay in the game as long as you can write it well.

caveat: You may have a conscious objection to the turn of a story. It introduces violence to a character or group you feel is morally repugnant, etc, or it may bring in a darkness of storytelling that you don't want to bring into the world. I've actually made that choice myself. I think that's a healthy choice.