ScreenwriterBones

Animation Features

2010-11-05T02:25:00.000-07:00

Seems like every studio is getting into business on this and that is very exciting. I worked at Dreamworks last spring on a great project and loved it. Hired this summer on another animated feature at a different company and met at Universal just last month on a short list of those being considered on - you guessed it - an animated feature. Big business and really big fun for the writer as you win the day going in with the really exceptionally whacked out version of reality - the story you could never pitch to a studio with a straight face.

But that's because the old "Katzenberg" line comes in to play when you pitch an animated concept. You will definitely hear his edict whispered through the responses of any executive you meet "why are we doing this story animated?" Is the world special enough, are the characters impossible enough - could this all not exist in reality, etc. If it's just a great story about people with one fantastic element, why not shoot it live as an effects movie?

And they're right. It's a great question. Why the hell is this an animated film? What is so fantastic, impossible and visually stunning about it?

So to all of you out there pitching the animated film: You want the ice giant hanging out with floating jelly fish and all crossing a world where time goes backwards but they go forwards, etc.

Keep it emotionally grounded in reality, that's your anchor, the heroes love, suffer loss and fight back to love again. And the structure we all know and love has to play across the landscape of the impossible. Surround characters that are emotionally real with the truly impossible and you've got a winning combination.

The New Landscape

2010-11-05T02:21:00.001-07:00

Well, what is happening to our business does anyone know? I'm sure that most people in the business don't. And I'm sure that the few people at the top who okay the checks are sitting on them and saying 'wait' and 'everyone will take less." A sad truth that's happening all across the financial structures of our country, it's not just us. Full timers are being cut in all business, and only part timers and temps are being hired, so no medical coverage payments that way, no 401K, no stock, etc.

So what does that mean for us? The providers still need content. And we all write content much better than they do. But are we looking at more and more of the *gasp* micro-budget productions? Hearing a lot of that lately. Such a nuetural, almost pleasant sounding term, like something that might go in the kitchen and warm your oatmeal in the morning.

But the friendly euphemism for the above definitely makes one reconsider private school.

Don't EAT a fish. Learn how to FISH!

2010-11-05T02:17:00.000-07:00

Did you know that every script has four acts, not three? That there are 8 major sequences to each script that your character must pass through in the right order? Did you know that each story has both an “emotional “story and a ‘situational’ story – but that they have to come at each other from different directions like speeding freight trains until they crash? Do you know how to end your scenes but never resolve your tension?

Jeezy Louise-y, let's get serious folks. Script writing is the most structured for there is. Get your form down and everything else falls into place. It goes from being a script that is put down on page 30 to one that has to be read to your last words: THE END.

And of course your characters can't be dead on the page either, but that goes without saying.

but it's a lot like Real Estate's three laws of location, location, location - for us it's structure, structure, structure. Don't doubt it, even when it feels old, embrace it.

Jehova Goldberg, the Gas Giant

2010-01-03T21:58:00.000-08:00

As Gas Giants went, Jehova Goldberg was a doozy, 1.8986×1028 KG or 417.8 Earths, in other words; fat. Couldn't even slip into his gas giant jeans that he wore in college anymore. To make matters worse, he never had enough mass to ignite into a star, whereas his sister, Jupina, detonated at an early age, around 3 billion years ago, into a blazing G class, head of her class in fact - and graduated from the incindiary bipolar star cluster with honors. Jehova's parents, a binary system of Blue Giants stared down at Jehova with disappointment and erupted their flares in shame. "You could have at least become a black hole, son," said his father. "Even that's an achievement. But this..." He went into orbit around his wife so he wouldn't have to look at him. His mother was no better. She was covered with spots, which only acted up when she was upset. "you don't even have planets of your own," she lamented. Just a group of moons. It's embarrasing. What are we supposed to say when other stars roar past? Out son is still at home, in orbit around us? When are you going to go out and DO something with your life, you're not going to live forever - just another 12 billion years. Better get ON IT.

Okay, fine. Writing this instead of my WORK. But I figure why not start the new year with something looney?

TEACHING at UCLA

2009-07-31T01:47:00.001-07:00

Teaching screenwriting at UCLA Extensions on and off and a student, overwhelmed with facing the blank page, asked for help.

Some of her concern - and it's something that everyone feels, whatever level you're at:

I am having a hard time starting my 10 pages. I have read the

chapters you listed, but am still having a hard time. I have never written in this style and format and it is nerve racking. What do I do to even get started. I think most here have already done this by looking at their work. They have some idea of what they are doing. And, how am I suppose to critique some else's work when I don't even know what I am doing, much less them. I don't know if they are formatting correctly and if they are doing their story correctly. I don't feel qualified to correct their work -

I think anyone can relate to that feeling, to that concern - to just feeling clueless sometimes. But what the hell to do with the feelings of cluelessness?

Well, all I can tell you is even the professional writers, when they sit down with a new project, feel much like you do. "What the hell am I doing? And what the hell do I know?" are things I hear from my friends who do this for a living. So in that sense - you are doing just fine!

We are all story tellers, our lives are stories and what compels us about stories that we love is that they speak to some deep inner place our ours that knows about struggles, dreams, disappointments, hopes and failures. We've all had them in our lives - and we've all had mentors, allies and enemies.

So I think you're very much qualified to tell a person that something rings true in their work, or doesn't, that a piece of dialogue is emotionally moving, or perhaps should be looked at again to nuance more emotion out of it (we must critique gently after all), etc.

As to starting - the first page is always the most difficult. And yes, there is a specific structure required for the modern screenplay. No way around that. however, if it feels all too much at first to do structure and creative writing, abandon structure for now.

Write everything out in single line format, like a play. Character left margin, with a colon after it, followed by dialogue - then space inbetween next character, space inbetween your next narrative/description of action.

That way you can get into the flow of the talking and the action without having to worry about structure - you can always structure it later, that's mechanical, but creative writing needs to flow and we have to serve that as best as we can (I do this kind of writing sometimes, by the way. when an idea comes fast and I don't want to have to worry about structuring it...)

So - go for it. Sit there. Something in you wants to do this, or you wouldn't have signed up. Give it some time at the desk to manifest, sit there even if it's not coming, because it will. Pace around the room if you need to, jog, stationary bicycle while thinking - come back and sit down again - walk around with a tape recorder and act out the lines as they come out - they don't have to be perfect, you'll take the ones you want later, or sit and over-write knowing you can edit later, or if you dictate come back and transcribe, there are as many methods as writers, find yours. (Rod Serling, supposedly, dictated EVERYTHING and had someone else write it up, how about that?)

And remember to be a bit light about it all - after all, it's something you chose to do, something you want to do - that's pretty cool. (As opposed to being in a flood or being chased by angry bulls in Spanish streets, you know?) This is something you're doing for you.

You shall prevail.

Tony Gilroy Master Story Teller

2009-07-23T22:48:00.000-07:00

Check out the Bourne Ultimatum at any free script site for style and brilliant economy of words - particularly Gilroy's descriptions and actions. But, needless to say, his dialogue is sparse, succinct and emotional.

I have read it several times, merely for my own enjoyment, and came away accidentally with an education.

Whether or not you are in the same genre, you can take inspiration from Gilroy's craft. When the action hits - it's easy to over write and try to explain it all. What a mess.

The real trick is being the 'eye on the page' and leading us - important/crucial image to important/crucial image - and leaving a lot out believe it or not. Fragments, half sentences, hanging words match the breathless cutting of visual action.

You're the poet placing drops of paint on the canvas, that's it - let the reader fill in the rest. That absence - that vacuum inbetween the description - pulls them irresisttably along.

Prexy of Production

2009-07-23T01:39:00.000-07:00

Meeting with a President of Production carries a certain weight to your time spent, in that you feel it's time well spent. To get where he is the guy knows what he's talking about and has experience making movies (more often than not).

So when you discuss theme, tone and casting you know he's not play acting - he's really done it.

Upside - he knows the dollar value of each sequence, the drawing power of a certain name, what story beat will appeal to what age group (quadrant) and are you making a 'four quadrant picture'? (Getting every demograhic into the theater - sort of neccessary in the 200 Mill and up club.

Downside - he'll want your picture to be four quadrant, may insist on a certain name to drive a film, get stuck on story points he's worried won't play for a mass audience.

I was in such a meeting today, discussing a script I'm writing and getting feedback. What comes at you -

1) What's the tone of this story? What are we going for here - is it broad, or is it real? (This is when you supply the films that this story is like, still a very tried and true Hollywood requirement, so they can feel it. "We're shooting for Pirates here, National Treasure say, not a Will Ferrel movie."

2) Who do you see starring in this? (More than likely he's worked with him.) Have your names ready in your head, often the list isn't long, and you'll know right away if you're both thinking of the same film. If you say Nicholas Cage, and he says Chris Rock, you're making different movies in your mind.

3) Fight for your characters, they will be what's remembered. The quirky and quixotic in the midst of major set pieces - they are what's remembered.

4) Is the hero emotionally tied into the ending - ? I got that question - and it's a good one. The people who have it together ask that note - as often act three becomes very situational, driving and intense but not emotional.

5) And what's the theme? It's really not an academic, or student film class question only - it is deeply important to good story telling. Know your theme - it often indicates the emotional drive.

Bones is Back

2009-07-23T01:37:00.001-07:00

After a long hiatus, I have returned to the web to share my extremely personal and peculiar experiences in the Hollywood.

Words as Toys

2006-09-26T00:34:00.000-07:00

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.

Write the Unsaid

2006-09-20T09:43:00.000-07:00

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.

Let the work reveal itself

2006-09-19T23:13:00.000-07:00

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?

Can't Write in Longhand

2006-09-18T11:55:00.000-07:00

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!

Traveling For Much of August

2006-08-29T20:09:00.000-07:00

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

Audio CD of Screenwriting Workshop is ready!

2006-08-09T22:09:00.000-07:00

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!

When to Cut and Run, When to Stay and Fight

2006-08-07T10:42:00.000-07:00

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.

Flexibility

2006-08-05T22:20:00.000-07:00

What any screenwriter is faced with, on any given day, is the endless testing ground between rigidity and flexibility. Because it's the only art form that is endlessly collaborative. Your friends will give you notes, your wife, your gardener will have an opinion. And that's way before you get studio notes.

What note do you listen to? How much do you change something even if the notes are good? And how much do you have to change something even when you disagree?

You will undoubtedly have to make changes from your first draft through your re-wrties and polishes, through to shooting. That's inevitable. And cringe, whine, anticipate or hope as we may, that is the one constant in our lives. The script will change. M. Knight Shymalyan wrote - I believe - 14 drafts of the Sixth Sense, realizing only about halfway through the process that his hero should be dead. Sometimes writing reveals the answers, and sometimes 'answers' are foisted upon us without a question. "Change the male lead into a woman and we can make it," is a favorite note of mine. (And not one to me thankfully. The changes were made. The script is still not made.)

So the real challenge becomes how to stay inspired, how to stay connected to the material, how to keep the thrill of storytelling alive amidst a barrage of changes that may deconstruct your carefully modeled Architectural Digest home.

Well, as a friend of mine says:"There are a thousand ways to do something right. Just pick one." There's some real wisdom here. So how to guide your transformation into something that keeps its vitality?

You have to keep in mind what your 'big idea' was that started the whole thing. The bright jewel, the sun in the sky that made you smile every time you thought of that story. That has to be kept alive, even as the bookends, and surrounding story structure change to appease the notes. If you have to re-seed the story with new roots to make the new structure make sense, grow them all from that original big idea - fight to keep that intact. Because in the end you can't win every battle in notes warfare. But you have to pick your fights. So always fight to keep the big idea intact.

There is an old Chinese saying that says something to the effect of:"The reed that bends, doesn't break." Some writers don't tolerate notes and would prefer to walk off a project. I prefer to keep in the mix, keep the story alive with me as the guide, doing my best to shine my light through it for as long as possible.

Great Workshop

2006-08-05T22:19:00.000-07:00

I had a great time, thanks to all!

The Meeting Mill

2006-08-04T01:43:00.000-07:00

This week I've taken meetings at one major production co. at Universal, Silver Pictures at WB, John Davis Co, and another major prod. co. at Paramount.

Whew.

So what did I learn in the gossip mill?

1) That everyone thinks Dreamworks is the trojan horse that will devour Paramount. As one exec. put it, at Paramount with the new regime in place, there is still no clear 'there' there. No clear mandate. No clear take on what a 'Paramount Movie' is right now. So people aren't bringing them big projects. They're shopping big projects elsewhere first. Like - to Dreamworks.

2) Much chatter about the Broder Webb devouring of ICM's TV department. Well, more truly the surgical replacement of ICM's TV department with Broder Webbs'. The feature side will be a merging of the titans. As one exec. put it - two tanks of sharks, put in bucket of chum, serve, enjoy. (I'm glad I was repped at Broder Webb, and coming in to new digs)

3) Mandate from one head of studio: no more arab bad guys. No more Iraq war narrative. Geo-political global marketplace feedback is getting sensitive to it. This specifically altered one big project already in development at this studio, and pretty much tanked something that had been pitched to me that I was working on. Wow. That one hurts. So much for freedom of expression. Freedom of commerce doesn't seem to permit it.

4) There is now the $35 million movie, and the $150 million dollar movie. But there really isn't anything inbetween. Very serious discussion about this in one meeting on potential project. Very savy prod. exec. was pointing out our effects shots and casting made a potential adaptation of a soon to be published book a $65M picture, which was no longer a category. You're either in the lower budget block with acceptable demographics non-star driven vehicle and predictable returns. Or you're in the star driven tent pole movie which shoots for the moon and every potential cross over.

Also endlessly fascinating - the same EXACT pitch got a luke warm response in one room, and a bowled over cartwheel inducing effect in a different room.

This is the upside of meetings. In the cartwheel room the feedback was rather joyous to my reps. Which means I've generated a fan merely by showing up. That's the value of meetings. Passion, enthusiasm, good story telling always wins the day. Whether or not the initial project survives, proactive action and continued attention could create new opportunity. And in this changing marketplace - one less friendly than it has been - the savy writer needs to always be conscious of creating new opportunity, new fans, new champions. Don't leave it soley to anyone else to find the job for you. Be diligent, be creative, be proactive, be positive. As Lawrence Kasdan once said: 'be the hero of your own life."

Workshop - Saturday, Aug 5th, Noon!

2006-08-02T07:52:00.000-07:00

Come join us! I look forward to seeing you! For those of you who are just finding out about the workshop, all are welcome! Leave any questions or thoughts about it here!

NOTE: This is an LA workshop.

When Agencies Collide

2006-07-29T14:01:00.000-07:00

It was revealed Thursday night that Broder Webb and ICM are merging, and Broder Webb is going away, as are some ICM agents, so that the two agencies will now be one. And it will be ICM, run by the chairman of Broder with many agents from both. Though it seems that Broder is coming in to run things while some things stay the same.

So I was repped by Broder, but I'm now repped by ICM, as Broder won't exist anymore. The odd thing is, I was at ICM years ago, then went to Broder. Now they've mixed like some science fiction creature.

More to the point - the business consolodates again. What does it mean? a lot of people are suddenly out of work. Many agents took the hit in one day, unexpectedly. Hopefully a lot of writers will be suddenly in work. The concern of course, fewere buyers, fewer agencies...

On the other hand, hollywood seems to need more product.

Workshop Still On - but moved

2006-07-29T13:58:00.000-07:00

We're still on, but moving it to another weekend. Please let me know what works best for each of you in the next few weeks and we'll pick it!

Workshop On!

2006-07-25T09:12:00.000-07:00

My Screenwriting Workshop is on for this Saturday! There are still places available. Come hear solutions to problems, tools for moments of confusion, techniques for wrestling the bear (writing). I'll talk about character, structure, taking pitch meetings (the pitfalls and preparations), how to deal with notes, pressure on deadline, or your own pressure to just finish a draft! What makes a good scene, what are the different arcs needed in long form story telling, where do plot and emotion collide, and the secret to the page turner.

And ,of course, any and all questions answered.

Noon to 5pm. $85. This Saturday, July 29th.

Pirates

2006-07-24T23:39:00.000-07:00

There's more craft and rich story telling in Pirates than in many films that have been out there this year. And at the same time, I think the narrative is the least 'tight' of the films these guys have written.

Does that matter? No, and I'll tell you why.

And - by the way - you'll read plenty of reviews that try to toss the bucket of water on the bonfire, pointing out the lacking of this or that in the structure, or too much of this or that in the structure.

But what the reviewers don't understand, is that these guys get to the heart of a story like no other. The team of Ted and Terry start their story with lovers torn from a wedding, jailed and separated. Their only hope of reunion is in Will finding their opponent and securing his compass, if he takes too long his love may be executed, and when he returns empty handed so will he. And in the next moment we meet their opponent, the pirate, using the compass to secure some profound treasure, and then given a black spot on his hand, the mark of instant death from an immortal ocean demi-god fixated on reclaiming his soul. Brilliant immediate triangle - stratospheric stakes, they are all doomed to die unless they can help each other. There isn't even a clock - the clock has run out before their first meeting - so it's a race to beat the executioner on all sides. That new obstacles and characters crowd in like rush hour at Grand Central Station matters little, the gunshot has started the race, the catapult has released the stone, the arrow has been released - emotionally. The emotional through-line starts immediately. That is the brilliance in Pirates.

That all of the myriad characters that pour in for brief or long stays are each fun, clever, witty, and all emotionally grounded in the midst of the hysteria - keeps the emotional reality of the potential loss of each character extremely vibrant, and therefore gripping.

That the director knows how to stay in close to his characters and capture looks of longing, defeat, fury, wanting, panic, while getting every other dazzling angle in every impossible set piece - is his genius. And I think in terms of effects, it has to be as deft a handling as Spielberg or Jackson.

So yes, I liked it.

And who the hell needs lean story telling after all that?

Did it take me a little time to warm up to it? Yes. I was amused for the first 45 minutes, and then something happened, and they had me.

I won't spoil the moment I was hooked by telling scenes for those who haven't seen it yet, but by the box office count, it seems like everyone already has seen it.

Suffice it to say, I feel all story telling has at it's core the family, how we fit in it, live with ourselves in it, try to change our own, or escape our own, or make new ones, re-shape the ones we find, or suffer in the ones that we can't stand up to and can't change.

That this idea of family, re-uniting with old, trying to for new and how that's threatened, was used quite deftly in this film made it all the more engaging.

The epic story at its heart, needs heart, and loss - loss - loss - fighting with one's life if only to gain one fragile moment of togetherness at the end - and lose that as well as the sands of time threaten to rise up around the hero(s) and vanquish them.

And of course, keep it light and funny. Have Captain Sparrow and bit players react with endlessly inappropriate moments as hell is raining down on everyone. But every other lead plays it real so you know each of the 150 minutes is deadly.

They really get it.

When in Doubt, check the Undertow

2006-07-16T23:37:00.000-07:00

When you ram through act one, and it's full of tension, drama, a real page turner, and then you suddenly find yourself doing a lazy backstroke swimming through act two and can't find the edge of the edge of the pool - - you go 'what the - F?'

Whenever I do this to myself, and check the wording, because it is me doing it to myself, I realize I missed orchestrating my structure correctly. There isn't enough opposing force for my hero (villain, force of nature, force of man), there isn't a sufficient clock he's working against (his own death, a city's death, a bomb, a terminal loved one, a loved on leaving town), and most importantly - he's not rushing toward an inevitable end that is destructive and will inspire rebirth.

Or rather, that ending isn't rushing towards him.

Pulling at him through a series of events unseen, a primal, unbeatable and titanic force that will make sure the hero has no other choice than to face his ending, like an undertow that pulls you out to sea.

Whatever direction your hero thinks he's in charge of splashing about on the surface, the undertow is the Jovian force that works on a cosmic scale, the fates, karma, kismet, what have you - pulling him towards his worst nightmare. And as he heads towards it like a freight train, and it comes crashing towards him like a meteor - it should delight you.

As much as the hero will try to toss and turn his boat, Poseidon must make sure the hero will face his worst most crushing test. And you have to know it, see it, and delight in orchestrating it.

Face Act 2 with delight as you check the undertow.

Don't Carry the NO Out The Door.

2006-07-12T22:57:00.000-07:00

I've said this before, but one of my favorite things said to me in this business about this business was buy someone I know who's achieved great success. He said the only difference between his being a struggling writer and a successful writer was that he drove a nicer car.

I laughed until I stopped. And then said - wow. It was eye opening, kind of like a bit of wisdom as a two by four cracking me in the head. Because he's worked with Spielberg, other directors, directed his own film, worked with heads of studios, and has dealt with just as much frustration, bad manners, incoherent notes and unpleasant behavior at every step of the process, all the way to the top - just like have we all at every level we're at.

And I found that idea incredibly freeing.

Because it laid bare the point of the whole process. If you don't enjoy what you're doing at your desk when you're writing, and if that isn't the place where you live, come alive, channel the universe, suspend reality and drop your personality, leave your body behind, expand your consciousness into the universe, and let what's up above and come down through you, and find that one of the greatest things you can do, the rest of it won't matter anywhow.

Because they're not going to make it any easier for you anywhere on the ladder.

So that's what I mean by the point of this post. The crap will always be in play at some point from someone about something. But you don't have to let that stick to you when you walk out the door of whatever meeting, phone call, memo, email or fax you got that day could potentially harsh your mellow.

Point of fact: I just left a meeting yesterday pitching to the head of a large movie company. It wasn't an easy meeting to get to. It started with me six months ago being asked my take to adapt a book, yet to be released, with Dreamworks and this other big Co. in co-production. My pitch goes over very well. But two teams of executives ask for tweaks. We do that. More meetings with great promise follow. Four months of meetings later at Dreamworks and then they're SOLD to Paramount and the new regime passes on the book. Nice. But this thing is still in play at the other big shot Co. So I meet with top executives there, twice, over two months, adjusting and tweaking pitch specifically just to this place - and they LOVE it more now by the way - so they all approve it, pitch it to their boss, but he wants to hear the full out thing from the writer. That's good - that's the room you want to get into. Sell the top dog. That was yesterday. Pitch goes great. Executives are laughing along with me all the way. They all turn expectantly to the boss. The Pres. pauses. He doesn't like it. Gives notes as to why. Some notes are good notes, that are intelligent. Some notes are 'what the F?' 'Were you in the room?' The three other execs in the room are a bit stunned - and all come to my support, they want to hire me. He won't pull the trigger. Thanks for coming in. I could come back and work it up again based on his notes, however, if I like. I suspect that beating a dead horse will not get it to gallup, trot or even start smelling less bad in his eyes. But I'll let my agents say that.

Some things happen after he leaves which will go unsaid.

Stars couldn't have been aligned better than for this one, so boy was I bummed out. Lot of time and energy invested in that one. But his lack of a clue doesn't stick to me when I walk out the door. Let myself feel bad about that one for a few hours. Then let it go. And you have to let yourself feel it - whatever it is - before you can move on. That goes for anything.

Back to the original, the other meetings, the other pitches.

We shoot many arrows into the air in this business as pitches, spec. scripts, conceptual meetings, what have you.

Let them fly and get the next quiver ready and restring your bow.

In Production in Canada

2006-07-12T13:56:00.000-07:00

The Hallmark movie starts principle photography. Considering that I've written some scripts at studios that five years later are still referred to as highly regarded projects, with the ever present unspoken promise of production...someday...but I'm not holding my breath any longer...it's amazing to think I wrote this one in April-May, finalized in June and they're shooting in July. A bit head spinning.

Everyone Has a First Act

2006-07-11T09:18:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine says he has 30 first acts in a drawer of his desk. I have about the same. Just because you have an idea, and a first act, doesn't mean you have a movie.

Try to write past page 31 and you'll see what I mean.

Some ideas are explosive, full of fire and life, and come hurtling out of the gate with such force that you can't imagine that you DON'T have the whole movie.

It's very exciting ina new world with a new character, hurtling toward the wall that will change their life forever and send them on an adventure.

But sitting in your chair you will quickly reveal to yourself just how deep one has to send the roots down, to support the tree.

What the hell is the adventure, and how does it tie in emotionally to your character?

Know your character's history, their loss, what they hope to gain, and what part of them has to die that's holding them back from completing that desire, so that a new part of themselves can be born to grab the sword - be ready to let go of their own life - and make the selfless act that raises them to a higher level. (in a drama, of course, all this works on an interior level). either way, only then can they become worthy of the prize they seek.

Who is the villain, who are the friends? And will a friend turn against them, or a villain become an ally? What wound does your hero need to heal and how does this story get them that?

Otherwise, you may just have a great act one.

Pirates Steal the Treasure of Box Office

2006-07-10T09:54:00.000-07:00

Nothing like good story telling. $132 million clams. Talk about head spinning. The biggest opening, ever.

A lot of things have to come together for this kind of success. But if it ain't on the page on the first day of pre-production, the road is less traveled.

Congrats to the maestro's of wit and light-hearted adventure tales of doom and triumph!

Writing Workshop Audio CD

2006-07-09T23:45:00.000-07:00

Some of you (out of towners) have asked me for, and I have now put together an audio CD of my writing workshop! The one day workshop is five hours, which I wouldn't subject anyone to on CD. But the CD is over an hour, and highlights everything crucial in the process that I've learned over my twenty years doing this lunacy and getting paid for it.

Good tools, tricks and the way to keep creating inspired screenwriting, which is the one topic I see little written about.

If you're interested, it's $25.00. This was for a time available as a hard CD and mailed, but this proved complicated and too difficult with postage to different countries, so it is still available but only as digital download.

I would ask the favor that if you purchase it, and enjoy it, you keep it for yourself and don't transmit it to others but instead direct them here. Thanks.

Output

2006-07-09T23:31:00.000-07:00

Creation is king. Creation is messy. Torn pages, multiple drafts, first tries, second tries, 100th tries. The artist endlessly hurls, tosses, throws, gently applies, punches, spits and lovlingly caresses - endlessly.

I hate hearing the whine about what someone isn't getting.

Like they're waiting for an executive in a Rolls to drive up to their door with a contract.

You make, you ache, you create, you manufacture, you build. You keep throwing it out to the universe - because you have to. You keep throwing it out into the universe until somone has to take notice.

Two great stories:

1) Several years ago I was working with a director on a Paramount project. We were doing re-writes on a script of mine based on studio notes, and his notes, notes that got him the job and everyone was very excited to change the script. We got along fine. He was eventually fired and I was kept on to undo his notes and put my stuff back in - and the film is still not made. Anyway, that's not the story. The story is that he was talking about a friend of his. A writer who had had major success in his career. But the guy had just penned a film that opened - and bombed. In a big way. It was an embarrasing bomb. It had screwed up the writers' other projects and immediate job prospects. So the director told me the guy had pulled back and was writing an idea he'd always wanted to do. Something he really cared about. He was hoping it would turn his career back around. The script was A Beautiful Mind.

2) I know two guys who wrote script after script in their twenties, thirties and forties and got nowhere. They were met with moderate to zero response and success over almost 20 years of writing. In their late forties one guy bailed the business. Gave up. He's in real estate. He's fine about it, realized it wasn't for him. Maybe deep down it wasn't. The other guy took other jobs, he had to as he had kids. But he always wrote. He wrote at night, or on weekends when he could, or in the cracks inbetween. Didn't stop. In his late forties he finally sold one, then another, then another, they were made, and they did very well. And he has an academy award in his bookshelf.

Output.

Here Today Gone Today

2006-07-06T13:03:00.000-07:00

You know, this is a nasty business. It will never fail to deliver in that regard. I had a 'phone meeting' with an executive two weeks ago at a good company, big players are partners. I.e. one player is a director of several boffo blockbusters over the last several summers. Keeps churning them out - bang - bang -

So this company's got some serious cache.

So I'm pitched on idea from a book by a top executive there, 'but throw the book out do what you want' which is a classic line I love when pitched an adaptation. Isn't that like going to a restaurant and they say 'hi, here's our lunch buffet, or just throw it all out and go into the kitchen and make anything you'd like?"

Anyway, he goes on about how this director loves this book, thinks it's a great movie idea, how he and the director were chatting, very good friends, very close, this guy is very invested in the idea of this book, would love it because his kids love it...etc.

I get it. I say. I'll think about. I'll call him back in a week.

The book by the way is idoitic. But that's it's own story. Can you mine something interesting from something that doesn't seem inspiring? Usually. Scrape away enough stupid and you can usually find a gem that has been obscured.

Or just throw the book out and keep a few adjectives.

So I call the guy back last week (7 days have passed from our chat now, remember?)

He's fired. Gone. No forwarding address or phone.

"So, he's really not in," I say to the receptionist. "No, he's really not in."

Meaning of Life vs. Feeling Alive

2006-07-02T23:07:00.000-07:00

We are endlessly directed to identify a characters' purpose, what his need is, his lack, his desire. You may have been asked the question "why does this story happen to this person?" (I hate that question).

The answer - "because I fucking thought of it."

Okay, the answer in the meeting - "his background makes him the only person who can survive it, yet his own inner turmoil may block his own ability - and he may not survive."

But all of that is also very mindful, a very intellectual excersize. Of course, it has to be. In many ways we build a swiss clock when we construct a screenplay and the craft is crucial.

But a mind only excersize sometimes is light on emotion. And when you feel this happening a good trick is to think not so much about what is 'meaningful to the life' to the character, but what they do to 'feel alive'.

Do they race cars? Sing? Shoot drugs? Shoot a gun? Heal an animal? Heal a person? Ski? Sex? Win at gambling? Extreme sports? If you construct the scene with this element, you may be telling yourself more about your character than 10 pages of any character dosier you may assemble as an intellectual excersize.

Sometimes what they do to feel alive may fold into their secret or a secret life, which is particularly interesting, and creates added complications for your hero. Maybe they don't feel alive - and that's an issue right there. They use to, and now they're dead inside. What shakes them out of it?

We all want to feel alive. We all go to different lengths and extremes to feel it. When do you feel alive? What do you have to do to get there?

Make sure your character is alive in your story, and figure out what they need to feel it - and what that implies about what's lacking everywhere else.

Secrets

2006-07-01T11:11:00.000-07:00

We all have them. Some burried so deep we probably can't remember some of them until the right moment triggers against our memory and the secret surfaces. A song, a smell, a number, the trigger may be unexpected, but the secret is a deep part of our reality.

Deep enough to help make us who we are?

That's the question when it comes to character. What is their secret that helps define who they are.

And if your character doesn't have a secret it's awfully flat.

I've been in search of secrets lately for a new character I'm writing.

And I was asked to put one in for a script I just wrote, adapted from a book, where the hero didn't really have a very complicated character. He needed a secret.

You can work the secret card different ways. It plays well when it's opposed to the action the hero has to undertake for his adventure. Sheriff Brody in Jaws was afraid of the water, after all.

Or it can work against the internal landscape in a drama - as with a character who has major family issues, hasn't worked them out, and his secret is that he's dying.

Ultimately, breaking through ones limits is the most painful awful thing we can do, and we only do when forced to, and when we do it's thrilling and awakens us to a larger view of ourselves and the world. Best if the secret is part of the limiting problem and shattering through it is required for breaking the limit.

Cut For The Cutting Room Floor.

2006-06-27T12:15:00.000-07:00

Well, the way things are going digital, there won't be a cutting room much longer.

Regardless, there will always be the idea of the - 'cutting room floor' - and where some of your scenes, lines of dialogue, images and darlings will inevitably wind up as the director and editor shape the picture, cut for time, cut for flow, cut for pacing.

You never keep everything you shoot.

So what does that mean about the draft you wrote?

The idea of the cutting room floor idea can be a useful tool for a writer at any stage of the writing, as a way to look at the work and lighten the load, cut the excess, stay on the straight line of the story.

The tighter, dynamic drafts are always the ones that read best. And you're forced to keep your poetry at a high level when you have less room.

What is the 'jewel' of the scene? The emotional moment required that makes the scene important? The plot discovery that makes it crucial? What do we learn about the characters or their fate, why is it neccessary? And if it's not neccesary, lose it. If part of it isn't neccesary, lose that.

If you don't do it now, you will hit that moment in a meeting with a director, unless you're directing yourself, when you gaze down upon a scene and realize - "we'll never shoot this."

That happened to me a lot in the last few weeks, as we're in pre-production on my script. But as the last thing I had in production was ten years ago the memory of this had faded. It was a great wake up call.

Good to get rid of the scenes you know you won't shoot, now. Why won't you shoot them? Becasue they don't advance the character arc, they don't advance plot. Period.

If you cut them now, you're improving the script, making it tighter, a better film, and a document that will speak more as a production draft to those who know production.

I read the script of Saving Private Ryan by Robert Rodat that sold. It's a fabulous script, very tight, no extra scenes, nothing wasted (different ending of course), a page turner it flew along amidst a huge cast of characters and endless locations; but felt like you were watching the movie.

Think of the cutting room floor and keep a step ahead.

Gladiator The Musical

2006-06-24T20:58:00.000-07:00

No, it's not a joke. It's real. And I saw it last month. One night only. Tickets not available. You only hear about it because you get a call because you know somebody who knows somebody.

It was a workshop, of a full fledged musical, staged with no set and minimal props, mostly for Dreamworks executives and others of note. Ridley Scott was in the audience as well, invited to see what had been done to his masterwork in the small theater in the valley where the evening was staged.

I was there because an old friend of mine played (brilliantly) the Oliver Reed part of Proximo, and stopped the show with his song. And in the musical Proximo's part if beefed up and he goes all the way to the end.

The book is incredibly faithful to the movie, they work with Hans Zimmer's existing score, and the the songs are quite good.

It's a remarkable testament to good writing, the structure of the piece is so sound.

What was most amazing, from a back stage point of view, is that the cast of thirty some odd broadway professionals had 12 days to learn lines, rehearse and put the entire show on its feet.

Though purportedly Ridley Scott mumbled something to the effect of 'they should have left well enough alone...', I thought the whole production to be quite good.

As a writer who is used to writing material on spec and tossing it to the market place with fingrs crossed, I was most impressed that in many ways this was a spec. musical, in that if Dreamworks passed on funding it, the producers would have to find funding elsewhere (they had already okayed the concept).

Well, they kicked ass apparantly, because the show is now scheduled to open on London's West End.

What's next. Star Wars?

A very hollwood moment.

Cable Movie

2006-06-23T10:06:00.000-07:00

The thing about tv is the blistering speed. You've heard that making a film is like getting troops into battle and waging a war against the clock. If a writing life could be oranized with that in mind, writing for tv should be required the way boot camp is for soldiers. You have to perform, under absurd deadlines, and if you live, you're a lot stronger.

That happened to me over the last two months. Three drafts, that were turned around in three weeks, two and then one, respectively.

And we go into production on July 19th.

I learned some interesting things, and got some very funny notes. I love the difference between creative notes and production notes. Creative note: "I don't feelt the main character would do this." Production note: - "You wrote a scene for 30 national guardsman, but we can only afford six." What do you do with that? You have to do the scene, how to play it? The other guys were sick? The rest of the National Guard are in Iraq...?

Can You Pat Your Head and Rub Your Stomach?

2006-05-12T14:57:00.000-07:00

I can't. Been on deadline and can't seem to blog at the same time. Wrote the first draft of a cable movie - and they needed it in 3 1/2 weeks. And I did it. Pretty much didn't do anything else.

What did I learn?

On deadline the structure rules. And your outline is key. Without a defining blueprint, you'll go 100 miles an hour into every tree in the road. My own detailed outline saved my ass and kept me on track and on target.

Writing as always is a revelation, even to yourself, as you write. And I discovered those moments when the outline didn't work - because the reality of the world I created demanded a different scene, or different connecting tissue.

But because of the outline, that only happened twice in 110 pages, so that taught me a lesson about the outline.

I'm now writing a new piece, with a very ill defined outline. Smart, right? Particularly after what I just went through? I'll see if I prove my own theory.

Why not write a more detailed outline before I start this new piece?

Because it's a ton of work. It's essentially writing the entire movie, without writing it yet, but putting all of the creative juice, fire and work and etching it into a stone shorthand anyway.

Jeez, after reading this I think I better revisit my new outline...

I will answer the questions posted here on the last post in the next day or two, thanks!

Been Away

2006-04-10T00:22:00.000-07:00

From posting. Deadline on a project and enjoying the Scriptwriters Showcase. More soon. Unless anyone wants to drop a comment about what's irking them craftwise.

Breaking Story

2006-03-29T19:21:00.000-08:00

It's really the hardest thing to do. Talking to a friend today he shared how he could spend six months "breaking story" and still not neccessarily have it .

Normal. I said. I spent years and years breaking story on an original script which I finally wrote three years ago. I first thought of it - about 15 years ago.

There is no time limit to the process, no sundial to track the brightness of the imagination. Every story is unique, and has unique demands. Some will come quickly and form completely, some won't ever form at all. Why? How the hell do I know?

Okay, that was a joke.

I suspect it has to do with some things I've learned along the way.

And what I have learned is this:

To break story completely you need three things, and an addendum.

1) The Big Idea. This goes for an original, or for your take on a re-write, or hopefully the adaptation you're doing as well. It's what you bring to the project that thrills you, excites you, makes you gleeful every time you sit down to wrestle the bear. You need the idea that will inspire you, unlock your heart, make your mind thrilled. It will have: energy. It will not have: structure, arc, or sequencing.

That last bit is very important. The Big Idea is pure energy and joy, it's why we're all writers to begin with. Hey, here's this great idea! I have to do something with that!

You need that. It's the gas for your tank, the lightning in your clouds.

Hard to proceed without it.

2) Premise: You need to figure out how you put the lightning in the bottle. You need your premise - briefly what happens to whom, what it does to them, how it ends.

3) You need to arc out your realities:

Situational reality: what happens, to whom, when, where and how, and to what conclusion.

Emotional reality: the emotional place your hero starts - and why the story smashes him flat, will "kill" that version of him, forcing him to change into what he must become to bring closure to his situational reality.

Simple, right? Simpler if you can see it has parallel sequences that run in opposite directions. You can click here to see my discussion of it.

Now.

You may not want to do this. So don't. Every writer has their own process, this is mine. Some writers are completely intuitive - they find their stories through instinct and patience and the emotional bubbles that rise up through the creative fire that seem to guide the way. I've done that too.

The reason I do it this way is because of the

Addendum:

DEADLINE.

Good to have one. An excellent reason, and really one of the only reasons for me, that I produce anything. I'm not good at the five/ten/one page a day thing with no finish line in sight. Dates on calandars, looming meetings, looming phone calls, all these get me off my butt and defining and clarifying my big idea. I use everything else I've just written to help hone it from a cool notion to a refined rocket sled ride.

It may not work for you, and that's cool. Everyone has their own process. Share some ideas here. It will help others, or tell me why my ideas are flat. It all helps all of us and our process.

Workshop On

2006-03-27T23:35:00.000-08:00

I'll be giving another screenwriting workshop in a little less than a month, on Saturday April 22nd. For more info or to see what the last group felt of being stuck with me in the same room for hours on end, click WORKSHOP on the sidebar. Pre-registration is required. Thanks!

For those of you attending the big to-do at the Scriptwriters Showcase at the Universal Sheraton from April 7-9, I'll be a presenter on a panel there on April 9th.

How To Survive The Inferno?

2006-03-24T22:04:00.000-08:00

A reader asks:

"How do you keep your own personal sense of respect for the
screenwriting craft, and what you do, intact in an industry that seems
to believe screenwriting is little more than 'idea vomiting,' which
takes no time, little effort, and can be executed by anyone with
fifteen minutes to spare?

I’m coming off of some form of development hell – which ring of hell, I
can’t be sure – but, boy, am I feeling beaten up...How do you handle this?"

Well, welcome to the fun world of professional screenwriting! Doesn't it sound grand? Come on everyone! I've got a barn and some costumes, and some unemployed development executives who can give us all the notes we want!

They didn't coin the phrase "development hell" to be poignent, or clever, it was undoubtedly uttered by someone standing on a window ledge ten stories up.

Before you get into this line of work, like any good fighter, you should know what to expect in the ring. It may not stop the pain, but it gives you a fighting chance. So here are some things to know about the fight you're about to enter (or have entered repeatedly).

First of all - Develpment Executives:

1) Are scared shitless that the story is fucked up and won't work and they'll be fired (eventually). This is before you're hired and after you hand in. Even if they believe in your script, by the way, a hint of doubt at the top and watch how fast they're ready to put the end at the front and twist the middle inside out.
2) Wittingly or unwittingly they need to prove they are worth their paychecks and so will generate a mountain of endless notes, corrections, thoughts ideas, a cascade of shit which is mostly unneccessary. In all that, there may actually be some good ideas. Use them!
3) Have no loyalty to you, but to the "picture". You're not there to make friends, you may, but it won't matter if you do. It's a bit like Don Juan syndrome. They're "dating" all these "hot chicks" (scripts they have in development) and will dump you the second you go cold.

And it's not nearly as much fun as it sounds, by the way.

Tools for dealing with this?

1) Their fear? Trust your creative source, you are the only one who knows how to tell your story. Be confident and grounded in that. They will always shake your tree, but they can't pull up the roots. Fear is contagious, so be prepared and don't let it in. You may be asked to trash all your ideas and start over. What do you do? Walk away? Well, you can actually. But if you decide to stay - you need to find a way to become re-inspired with what's in front of you. Why? Because you're a story teller who wants to play on the public stage and this is the price. Always go to your source, the place where your ideas play, always start with re-working the character so the rest of the situations and the new ones work again. Otherwise it's all just bumper cars and emotional emptiness.

I have a friend who's been in development eight years on a script. He's done about 14 drafts. He's let them cut out his most favorite stuff, and he continues to find inspiration in new ways to deal with the situations they ask for. He complains bitterly, frustrated as hell, then he takes a deep breath and goes down deep - below all that mindful upset - and finds his source, the place in the ocean of creativity that's still full of life and goes to work from there. What does it get him? His picture just started principle photography in Van Couver.

2) Too many notes: It's your job to hack through notes and say "yes" and "no" to what comes down the pyke. In fact, they want you to. You have to pick your battles, you can't say no to everything, but you really need to refuse the moronic ones. If not - and they insist - and you have to do it - you have to give it your best shot. That means re-working the story from the inside so that it makes sense again on the outside the way they want it. It means going to character and their emotional reality - and finding that change they have to make - and making the situations you've been asked to put them in make sense in a new way - and all that good stuff. If you don't start there, it won't ever play.

3) They're no friend of mine: Charm, civility, humor, betrayal, manipulation, guilt, seduction and all that before your meeting ends. There are a lot of clever people out there good at getting under your skin to get what they want. I did a re-write for Joel Silver in which I was hired in the room on my pitch, and left feeling I was way behind and already handing in pages late. How the hell did he do that? I had to go home and re-set myself.

Keep it professional, always present your best work on time - no first drafts please - even when they say "hey it doesn't have to perfect" (it better be your best effort or you're probably fired). Don't share works in progress. You need your chance to make your chemistry come to life and ignite and transform and then they get to see it.

As a cake maker said to my wife and I when we were shopping for our wedding cake. "You're only as good as your last cake."

Here too. Don't run the marathon on your work, just to get exhausted at the end and stop writing. Finish the job.

And in the end, don't write it all from your mind, write from your heart.

How do you keep your heart opened when you're beaten down? You don't take it personally. You can't or you'll drop dead from a heart attack at 38. You are a story teller. You open up and let it come through you, and you have found that thing that actually nourishes you as you do it.

That's all you need to remember.

Read Your Own Contract

2006-03-24T21:57:00.000-08:00

Well, that's not a brilliant piece of advice, nevertheless it's important. It's something I shied away from for years as I had brilliant people to do that for me - who could the discuss legalese in normal English. I look at a legal contract and it literally looks like streaming code from the Matrix. My instinct is to run and literally hide, put my fingers in my ears and start singing, do anything but have to sit down and read that!

But I've come to learn with time that part of owning your own creative authority, is also owning the business side. Show-Business, after all, right?

Well, today I sat down and read my contract on my adaptation job. I read it carefully, painful as it was, I just kept taking deep breaths and reading the same sentance over and over until it finally made sense (kind of like looking at the 3-D optical illusion - you stare long enough you finally see something.) Well, I found out that one of the numbers on my payments was wrong, and my agency didn't catch it (third pass on the contract, too). Now, they're brilliant too and probably would have caught it, but maybe not. And if no one did and I signed it - trouble. There's a certain feeling of empowerment when you call up and say - hey this number is wrong - and they say - hey, you're right.

Own your authority to be creative, and own your authority to deserve to earn. They're both equally important.

On Structure Part 2

2006-03-20T23:40:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I promised part two on structure and here it is.

(You can check out part one a few posts down – but I copy here the last part of that post which is the jumping off point for this one):

"What ends a chapter? What ends an act break? How to nail a story that’s either linear, or has multiple story lines, flashbacks, flash forwards, what have you? We have to examine structure a little further. There are two realities in your hero’s world. The “situational” reality and the “emotional” reality and they have to intertwine.

Situational Reality: the physical world, ticking clocks, ticking bombs, car chases, kidnappings, fist fights, heists, trysts, invasions, defense, offense, the attack, the counter attack, the ambush, plotting, hiding, sneaking, losing, wining.

Emotional Reality: the lovers, the haters, the betrayers, the needy, the desperate, the dense, the out of touch, the shut-down, the over-sensitive, the hopeful, the funny, the hurt, the sad, the healing, the dying, the redeemed, the lost, the lonely, the saved.

Each reality has it’s own arc. How do they intertwine?"

The situational reality arc: Is start to finish. Hero usually has a goal, or a goal is thrust open him (her/them/you get it). Then, inevitably, the hero heads towards it, willingly or unwillingly, until they have to face it. And then the conclusion you determine is reached: the hero wins or fails, he lives or dies. It's like a great game of chess.

The emotional reality arc: oddly, can be viewed as finish to start. In the sense that the hero you start with will no longer be there when the movie is over. A new hero will stand in his shoes. You are “starting” with the finished version of this hero, one that your story will hammer down and smash apart in your brutal mill, until he's a broken ham sandwich in a bag, and quits, and then a new hero will have to be born, will have to rise, to survive your story to its conclusion – or, more to the point, to face the conclusion as a new person, at a new energy level so that they have the heart to conclude the movie. And this should be like an emotional rush, the thing that gives you chills, that makes you laugh and cry and leave the theater with an expanded heart and an expanded sense of self.

Now, granted your variations may break this rule, and that’s fine. Rules are made to be broken. Just make sure you know the rules first. You'll find hero stories where the hero refuses to change (Leaving Las Vegas) and dies because of it. And that’s very powerful (because we are supposed to change). There are heroes that don’t change as events change around them on an immense scale (The Pianist) and that’s powerful because they are a “witness” character, and we have a vicarious experience as we watch the journey through their eyes without getting distracted or wrapped up in their own emotional arc. There are heroes that don't change, but change others because of their lighthearted ability to stay above the heaviness dragging everyone else down (standard comic hero, Bill Murray in Ghost Busters, Eddie Murphy in Trading Places).

But what's important for story telling, in general, is that these two realities I've talked about track through time, through four acts of your story:

1) Your hero is alerted to the adventure, refuses it, enters it, gets trashed by it, nearly killed by it, survives and rallies to overcome. Sure other stuff happens, but that's the simple line.

2) Your hero has an emotional issue, the adventure demands he faces it, he denies it, then he tries to face it, the old him fails at it so a new him sparks to life, he tries the new self on, then both the old and the new him fail emotionally and he’s ready to throw in the towel, then an emotional re-birth, he re-enters the journey less for himself and more because it’s the right thing to do, a selfless act, where he’s ready to die for it (physically and emotionally) and that surrender of self is what give him the edge (I like to say “the heart has hope when the mind fails” and that act wins him his desire.

If you track these two realities side by side as you tell your story, you stand a very good chance of telling the best version of your story that you have.

On The Treatment

2006-03-14T18:44:00.000-08:00

On the treatment

The treatment is a very difficult document to write.

As often as you will hear “hey, can we just get a few pages on this?” you’ll notice the executive asking isn’t raising their hand to do the writing. And by the way, if they do, and you see it? You’ll probably cringe. It makes a cheat sheet look poetic.

They’ll also add in:”and make it just as exciting as your pitch/the book/the comic we’re ralking about so that anyone can understand it even if they haven’t seen it before.”

Great. Anything else? Make it out of liquid metal and have it’s own independent intelligence? No problem.

So you sit down to write, and realize that the treatment is a very difficult document to write. I’m trying to write one now, as the first step in a contracted feature deal.

Because there’s a good reason not to write a treatment if you don’t have to. The moment you put anything down on paper, it gives more reasons for they buyer to say “no.”

How do you avoid that?

Stay in touch with what excites you about your idea. That energy must go into your treatment. But on page 50 you may realize you’re being a little too detail oriented. Time to prune.

Drop extra visuals, drop dialogue, drop cute “c” and “d” storylines. Be clear on your character and only the large arc of the story.

So you’ll want to include the situational reality: your hero starts at point A – and in the next five pages take him to point Z.

And the emotional reality: the hero is a shy, buttoned down opera singer who will arrive at a new emotional reality (an outspoken opera singer?) by the end of the five pages.

Show story flow, the drive, the major obstacles, the villain and his plan, the hero’s low point, and the conclusion.

Give an artificial boundry to keep your pace – you want to talk about four acts of your story, each with a midpoint, give yourself a page to talk about each. Very challenging. Then do it again and give yourself half a page. Don’t sit too long in any one section or you will unbalance the whole thing.

One of the reasons the term “beat sheet” came about, I’m sure, is that Hollywood needed a way to get writers to shorten their treatments and just highlight the “beats”. Because ironically, Hollywood doesn’t like to read.

That’s pretty much your job here, a treatment needs to
Use your dramatic tools to keep it alive, bright and interesting.

Good litmus test: A treatment for a comedy should be funny. A treatment for a drama should be dramatic.

Workshop Was Great

2006-03-10T21:12:00.000-08:00

Hey, thanks to all I had a really great time!

On Structure

2006-03-07T10:41:00.000-08:00

This question from Vince DC: On the subject of structure.

“I've just finished the first draft of a feature screenplay and I'm struggling with act structure: when the act should end as concerns page count. This draft runs 130 pages -- yes, too long.

Lew Hunter is a stickler for precise act breaks: Act 1 should end on page 17, etc. Other script gurus take a more organic approach, saying the story should dictate the structure as long as there is rising action and it grips the audience.

My Act 1 runs 35 pages and I'm really trying to avoid "killing my babies" because what happens there is crucial to the rest of the story -- bet you've heard that one before. I can blame trying to make the script vertical for adding 5 or so pages to that act. The rest I can blame on me not being able to find a more succinct way to set up my protagonist's journey into Act 2.”

The structure issue is more crucial to the screenwriting form than to any other form of writing, except the play. Perhaps because they are both living forms that need to experienced in real time and people have an internal clock that has been trained by their culture in what to expect. A novel can be 350 or 650 (like the one I’m adapting now) and both be excellent stories, a great read and feel like they have great internal structure. Short stories only have to be short, no specific length required. Poems, comic books, essays, non-fiction books, sure they all have structure but the requirements are loose.

But screenplays live or die on their structure, I believe, And I’ve read scripts that have sold, that I didn’t think had great writing, but they all had one thing in common: GREAT structure. My scripts that have sold? Great structure.

Having said that, I will throw in a caveat that I abhor strict adherence to any artificial structure system. Because by the very nature of its artificiality it makes one incredibly “mindfull” and that can kill creativity. But that’s my inherent anti-authority issue speaking.

There – easy answer right? So what do you do?

Be creative and in flow with your work, feel the movie you’re in, and the breaks should speak to you themselves. You should know when you’re running long. If not, go out and watch more movies.

I take a cue on structure from a friend of mine who has always told me he feels when he’s writing an original that he has to write the “book” first, then find the screenplay. It all comes out as screenplay of course, draft after draft, and when he’s amassed what could have been a book by sheer page count, he usually “gets “his script. The journey of discovery however, is unpleasant for him by its sheer volume of pages never used and lost scenes (as he tells it). It’s why this guy hates writing originals. Too brutal for him, he loves adapting.

I like originals. And I like work-for-hire. I don’t mind the process (aside from the sleepless nights and the hair pulling). What falls to the floor I put in a huge file and raid regularly year after year. No writing is ever wasted by my reckoning. It’s either making you better, making your work better, or creating scenes that will live again someday in another piece.

So, back to structure:

Think of the screenplay as having four “acts”. Now we’ve all been told to death that a screenplay is three acts. There is act one (30 pages), act two – which is that huge chunk in the middle (60 pages) and act 3, (30 pages).

What the F? Why is act two twice as long as the others? What kind of symmetry is that? Well, it’s not, and it’s kind of ridiculous. What is there just hasn’t been categorized properly. Now some have recategorized it. Many many years of writing have revealed to me (at least this is the way I see it) that a screenplay is four acts.

So I believe that the 60 page act “two” that is talked about, is really two 30 page acts. You’ll hear about the “mid-point” of act two – well, it’s an act break as far as I’m concerned. So a script is four acts. And each act has it’s own mid-point.

Easy right? Of course not.

You’re stuff may not fit. And what about flashbacks and stories told out of time where the story telling is fractured?

Well, like any good book, the story keeps cruising along, but a real page turned closes a chapter and kills you with the unresolved tension. You have to keep reading and turn the page of that next chapter.

So think of the screenplay as a book. And think of ending a chapter every 15 pages. That’s a rough guidline, but a good guideline. Page count? I believe in keeping it tight. Clean crisp story telling, even in a character drama in a drawing room.

As for the page hits – yes, I think act one ends in the page 25-30 zone. I hate giving a specific page count as anywhere in there is fine, earlier will serve you better. If you have to lose some of your darlings to get there, It’s worth it for a better read. Because the better read will sell your script.

But what ends a chapter? What ends an act break? How to nail a story that’s either linear, or has multiple story lines, flashbacks, flash forwards, what have you? We have to examine structure a little further. There are two realities in your hero’s world. The “situational” reality and the “emotional” reality and they have to intertwine.

Situational Reality: the physical world, ticking clocks, ticking bombs, car chases, kidnappings, fist fights, heists, trysts, invasions, defense, offense, the attack, the counter attack, the ambush, plotting, hiding, sneaking, losing, wining.

Emotional Reality: the lovers, the haters, the betrayers, the needy, the desperate, the dense, the out of touch, the shut-down, the over-sensitive, the hopeful, the funny, the hurt, the sad, the healing, the dying, the redeemed, the lost, the lonely, the saved.

Each reality has it’s own arc. How do they intertwine? All this on the next post.

Workshop On

2006-02-28T10:06:00.000-08:00

I have a nice group who have expressed interest, thank you! But I do have to ask now that those who would like to attend to pre-register. Thank you!

The Call

2006-02-28T01:20:00.000-08:00

Every now and then a call comes in that says "you're hired", this before you know what the hell they're talking about. Okay, more to the point, it's extremely rare. And I got a call like that today. It's for a feature division of a company that does tv-movies and video on demand originals and we'll have to see exactly what they hell they're talking about. But that's a nice call. The genre is R-rated suspence thrillers, there is a book they want adapted and the job is mine if I want it. I may have to take four meetings with myself before I commit just to feel comfortable about it. Nice way to start the week! More on this as it develops.

Back to Dreamworks

2006-02-28T01:19:00.000-08:00

This will be the fourth meeting on this same project, this before being hired. Maybe I should take out a room there?

Screenwriting Workshop

2006-02-21T22:22:00.000-08:00

Back by demand, a one day workshop in screenwriting. I teach the tricks and tools of the trade I've learned over twenty years in ONE DAY. How to start, how to structure, how to polish, how to take meetings.

There will also be a full and complete discussions of structure, character creation and dialogue. A discussion of what is needed in the screenplay narrative, and more importantly, what is not.

The breakdown of the writing process will be discussed, what makes a good scene, the notion of three act, four act and eight act scripts will be discussed, and most importantly, the tools for achieving one own's inspiration.

Pitching to executives will be discussed, tools for a good pitch, and the pitfalls to avoid.

I have given two workshops in Pasadena this summer, but will not be giving anymore until the fall. You are welcome to post or email me with any questions, or interest.

NEW YORK WORKSHOP: I was hoping to be giving a workshop in New York City as well, at the end of August, but time and crazy schedule didn't permit it. I am still very interested in doing one late fall or winter. It will be from Noon to 5pm. The cost is $110.00. If you are a New Yorker, please do let me know if you are interested.

For feedback on the workshop click:WORKSHOP FEEDBACK

Fearlessness

2006-02-17T20:58:00.000-08:00

I remember watching a documentary on Picasso. It was done late in his life and an aspect was watching him work. The filmaker showed him working on his ceramics and canvases. I'm not sure how they got the effect, but you got to see his canvas come to life stroke by stroke, evolve and change - without him painting over it. What stays with me to this day is his creation of a horse. You watched (in a sped up fashion) how this brilliant painting of a horse came together. It was stunning, incredibly life like. And then when you thought it was done a huge brown streak covered up the center, then the left, then a smear of red came down over that and a new block shaped eye appeared, then a new crooked nose painted over the first, and you realized the first picture was just an aspect of his process, something he needed to get out so he could then deconstruct it and paint the REAL horse. The finished horse was of course, a Picasso. stunning, disturbing, powerful, and very unlike the original.

My first reaction of course - "he ruined that beautiful horse!" But the horse that came after was bolder, more powerful, unique, amazing. Believe me, you forgot the first one.

To be that fearless in your work is crucial. It doesn't matter if you work in paint, clay or print. Build your house, then tear it down now that you've discovered exactly how your house should look, as opposed to the way it does look.

Writing is a living process. As much as you outline and plan ahead, your work comes to life under your fingers. And like any living thing it will beging to form its own energy and make its own demands. And it's crucial that you listen to it as much as it needs to listen to you. I call it wrestling the bear. Because hopefully your work will feel that full of life.

I have just discovered, after months of work on my script, that my villain is the wrong guy. He's a good character, but he's actually not the villain because this other guy in the story should be. It was an epiphany. One that improves the script greatly, and I now have to attend to that immediately and follow that energy.

But rather than kick myself, or cry out into the night in agony at the thought of another climb up the writing mountain, like Syssyphus, I merely think of Picasso and that paint brush stroke defiantly drawn straight down his canvas burying his first picture, driven to do it, happy to do it, as the true picture had just been revealed to him and now he merely had to paint it.

Another Meeting

2006-02-11T11:58:00.000-08:00

It's something Hollywood mass produces. The meeting. And the town is never at a loss for them. Many are unimportant, though as they say in sports, you never know when you can turn nothing into something. So every opportunity is always that, an opportunity.

As you go up the meeting chain cycle you get the meet and greet, the conceptual pitch, the full out pitch, meeting with producer, meeting with talent, meeting with director, meeting with VP's of production, meeting with president of production. (And it seems like more meetings are required than ever before for the same jobs. There are more variations of course. A friend of mine has met with the President and production exec of a big independent company, has a deal to direct a film for this A list company, has been involved in months of development on the re-write of the script and was just informed he has to take a new meeting with the pres. of the studio this company resides at to see if he still has the job. How do you categorize that?")

Anyway, I just returned a few days ago from a third meeting on a studio project, before a room full of top people, getting to the top tier as far as I could go before they actually decide on me this weekend. It was the "money meeting" so to speak - the one in which, or whereafter they decide to pull the trigger on the job, so to speak, or not. Full out hour pitch to a roomful of executives, as it's a co-venutre, studio and producing partner splitting the bill. An adaptation of a yet to be published book they have high hopes for.

First thing I do? Tell them to throw out half the book as it doesn't make a good movie.

Something I love about that. Aside from it being neccessary, it's a good lesson in not trying to pander to second-thought. I don't know how married they are to this project or not, but the inspiration - my own thrill of the story has to lead me to the words 'the end" not my hope or "idea of what "they" want. That is instant death.

Sure, they may say - stupid pitch Jacko, and toss me. But I know I came out of the gate with the rigth story for this project.

Years ago on a Paramount project of a script I had re-written several times, a director was then assigned. He came in with new notes and revisions that the studio was excited about. I worked with him for months on a new draft. I delivered it and the studio wasn't happy. We had a long conference call with all the involved parties - and it was filled with frustration on both sides. Finally the exasperated director said:"Just tell me what you want." And there was silence on the phone.

And I realized he'd just committed project suicide.

And he was off the project a week later.

Because no one in Hollywood knows what they want. They only know what they don't want. So never ask them what they want, tell them what they'll get. (The caveat, of course, which is the important question on any re-write or adaptation is "have you been down the road with this at all?" to find out what they've already discovered they don't want.)

But the bottom line is they have to keep hiring the creators to keep creating - because the money side is incapable of doing it.

I'll see if I'll be the creator for this project, hopefully next week.

Trimming, Slimming, from the Beginning

2006-01-28T14:07:00.000-08:00

Trimming pages is a normal task, one that writers are asked to do regularly for budget reasons, pacing reasons, or because a directors style may trump one's dialogue.

Or maybe your first draft came out to 160 pages. Don't laugh, it happens. And for those of you not laughing, I guess I'm talking to you. It's certainly happened to me. Some writers write exactly to the page count, others don't. Regardless, all will be asked to cut something at some point.

(I was once told by a friend who was on a board meeting at the guild, as writers were sharing their war stories, that one team related their first draft usually came out to 250 pages, which was normal for them, and then they started cut. Wow.)

But how do you actually do it?

There have been various definitions of what screenwriting is in books, on this blog, and on the other writing blogs out there that are all excellent. It starts with Hitchcock's observation that movies are "life with the boring parts taken out" and goes from there. Every moment matters, every word matters, because every second on screen matters. And if an image carries more power for your story, write the image and hold the silence. Writing doesn't necessarily mean make your characters speak non-stop for 90 minutes.

Another definition on this blog that I love came from The Thinking Writer
which essentially remarked that good scene writing starts as late into the scene as possible, and leaves before the scene ends. It marries posts on this blog where I talk about maintaining tension, and to never resolve tension, which means - don't resolve all your scenes in a nice little package and tie it up with a bow. Scene can end, abruptly if need be, tension continues.

Now, some have to write a whole scene to get to the meaty part in the middle and figure out that's what they need, others go right to it. But it's a great way to start trimming.

So here are my first three go to spots for the trim:

First place to go: There's plenty of excess set-up, exposition, talking without saying anything, and overly ornate description to clog up any script, and that happens to writers on every level, which is why you don't see a lot of first draft scripts shared on the internet. They often suck. That's the first place you go to trim.

But a story beat that happens on page 40 of a fat script, may seem perfect landing on page 30 after you cut and condense what comes before it.

The second place to go: Kill repeated action. Often young writers hit the same beat two or three times in one script. The same joke in a comedy (hey look, this time the pie hit my dad!), the same threat in a thriller (okay, this time I'm really going to kill you if you don't tell me where the &$%! is), these are important to cut as they hurt your story anyway, you can't build a drama on repetition. (caveat: in comedies the "running joke" is a piece of gold and doesn't count as repetition.)

The third place to go: Visit the idea of multiple action to condense story. We tell stories linearly, meaning we walk them out on a straight line as we weave them into the world. That often means single events happen in each scene, then we move to the next scene for a new event or piece of information, etc. I have written here before about the "one new piece of information a scene" idea, which I think is important so you don't lose your audience. But if an idea/character/element has already been introduced, there's not reason it can't double up in the same scene. So rather than have your hero and his best friend have a falling out at lunch, and then in the next scene have your hero meet his love interest for the first time and embarrass himself because he's nervous, you can place both events in the same scene, perhaps using the first moment to help affect the second moment.

Can You Just Hand Us A Few Pages?

2006-01-27T14:39:00.000-08:00

Hey all, been burning the candles at both ends. So, all right Eleanor, jeez, here's my next post. And it's not going to be the one about editing and condensing, that comes next, but this one is foremost in my thoughts as it's a regular question that comes to writers, one that everyone will be hit with at some point and one that I was asked recently.

"Can we just have a few pages on that?"

It comes after your pitch, after you're brilliant in the room and they want to capture some of that and carry it on. So they're going to ask you for free work, because they can't keep it all in their head when they have to pitch it to - a director, a producer, their boss, their chairman, whatever they can just say "here".

This will usually be qualified impossibly, by the way with :"don't do too much work on it, just include everything in the pitch, so that someone could understand it and see the movie if they weren't familiar with it." I love that one, really cracks me up. You mean - a SCREENPLAY?

No, they literally mean two pages. And they're not kidding. It's like asking someone to describe the taste of chocolate, but just write down the recipe and don't use any declarative language.

Well, don't do it.

Managers and Agents might even council you to do it, as they just want you to get the job you want and feel you're showing a ready to work attitude.

But in the end, there are two reasons why it's not a good idea.

The union says don't do it. And if you're literally trying to capture on paper the sparkle of a pitch, it more than likely will be list of reasons executives can look at and say no to.

So, what do you say when you're asked this? It's easy.

You say you'd love to. But that you feel it's impossible to capture the excitement and everything that "you" responded to in such a short document. If you hate saying no, you just said it by looking out for the other guy. And, if you don't mind saying no, you can just say "no".

We Love It, Now Can You Take 10 Pages Out of Act One?

2006-01-21T09:05:00.000-08:00

I love that note. How the hell do you do that? Happens on every project - you always have to cut pages for pacing, for budget, for time. But keep the feel of everything, can you do it? Well, you have to.

And I've realized I need to do that to my spec.

And how about 20 pages off the back end as well? And trim the bangs? Can you tell I'm running a bit long? But that's how I write, I over-write and trim back like a gardener cutting a hedge. Always have, and have learned to embrace my process, otherwise I kill any inspiration. Other writers create differently (like a friend of mine) who goes scene by scene honing at the length he wants, until he finish his draft spot on at 118. (I hate him).

You need to have a very capable editor within you, yet the edit switch must be OFF when you create your material, and then turned ON when you trim it. Boy that's a tightrope walk. I'll write how I do it in my next post.

(My most severe experience of that was taking a feature script at 120 and have to turn it into a 90 page teleplay for a two hour movie. Can you just cut 30 pages? That one physically hurt.)

The Long Haul

2006-01-19T21:04:00.000-08:00

Hollywood is still a gold rush kind of town. You can hit gold here immediately, or dig for 20 years and then hit gold, or hit gold in the middle and run out, etc. Life turns on a dime all the time here and no one knows what to expect - or what to tell you what to expect - but you'd better expect to have one thing if you're going to succeed, or at the very least survive with as few angina-like chest episodes as possible:

Patience.

"Hurry up and wait" is still a big part of Hollywood, even when things are moving in your favor. When they're not, it's like watching ice ages come and go before you feel anything significant happens.

So for those of you starting out, prepare for a long haul, it'll be easier on you later.

And for those of you already in the long haul, like a wagon train headed across the country, you know where-of I speak. And for those of you who can't cope with the process, you might as well leave the wagon train right now and make a claim and start growing wheat.

I wrote a script years ago, it was my second one that I sold as a solo writer (I had colloborated with two partners before that on different projects which brought me out to Hollywood).

This script got a great reaction then, was picked up by a studio with top director/producer team, but was never made, and has subsequentally come back into my hands. It has then been set up again (at high profile independent company) then returned to me, set up with talent for me to direct (Kevin Pollack) with independent financing, then the funding never came together. Then years later set up again with talent for me to direct (Nathan Lane), with major independent studio, then the funding fell through. And now I was just told today by the current producer that the script has just gotten the attention of a very significant talent (I have released myself on director this time around), who may set up the project on their marqui value alone. Exhausted yet? That took 14 years so far. Who says it's over?

That's what I'm talking about. You're not just writing long form product in Hollywood as a screenwriter, your life is a long-form product and you need to have some very nice stress management tools to deal with that.

I'm just saying.

The Phone Pitch

2006-01-17T22:29:00.000-08:00

An important weapon in the writer's arsenal. Because you'll be asked to do it a lot. It's one of my least favorite. And I had a big one today.

But everyone's different, and you may love it. But I prefer to see the people I'm talking to, telling a story to, so I can read their reactions. Interested or glassy eyed? Focused, or questioning? All of these in a five minute period?

Then I can always adjust, question, or alter the energy of the pitch as required. It might not take away the glassy eyes, but hell, at least I tried.

But on the phone you can't see 'em, just hear - well - a lot of nothing.

And you have to jabber on. This was the follow up call on my Dreamworks meeting from last week, with one additional producer and two additional excutives from another company who would share the cost of this movie. Cassic set up, standard procedure, five people, four locations.

My reps tried to get all of us all in the room, by the way, for the reasons I stated above, but schedules didn't allow it - so - you go with it. And with this one I had to bring more detail to the table, and really show the shape and flow of the movie. Meeting two people for the first time as well (the other two knew me).

So. How do you give a good phone pitch?

1) Lead the call. After the nicities and hellos the lead exec. may give a brief introduction and say get to it, or may not. Either way, be a horse out of the gate and lead clearly with high energy.

2) Hook them immediately: you need a great open to your story, and you need to paint a great visual. It's possibly your first introduction to them (as two were to me today) and you need to get their attention. First impressions are lasting. So do the work and nail a great start. It will make them realize they need to pay attention on this call and not just put in an appearance.

3) Don't assume everyone has briefed everyone else properly on where you are with your "take". And this is not about you and your history. It's about the story. Briefly re-summarize your love of the material and what excites you about it. Or what excites you about this original idea, whatever it is. Enthusiasm and passion are crucial in writing and in selling writing. I've stated here before that people want to be moved, and will believe you can do it if you can move them with your passion. And if you don't love the material and aren't excited about it, fake it.

4) Any good pitch has visual cues, gags for comedy, stark images for drama, and you must paint your juiciest in the room. Don't stop at your first one that started the show, keep them coming. (An atom bomb goes off in the desert and turns the sand to glass for half a mile. That was one of mine for an action film. That might have gotten me that job). On a conference call the visuals are all the more crucial. They can't see you act anything out.

5) Clarity. Be clear and concise. Who knows who's walked into the executive's office, or what email has come in, or what message prompt rolls accross the screen from their assistant. Don't deviate from your through line, hit your beats, gags or dramatic reversals, clean and hard.

6) Pitch a beat sheet not the blow by blow 90 minute detailed version of your film. And hit your acts cleanly and let everyone know where you are.

Additionally - you may be asked something akin to "what page are we at this point" or "where do you see us now?" "Where are we in act 2?" Know the answer. Don't guess. Confidence is key.

7) Have your theme, or your character's lesson/need, in your back pocket. You will be asked for them if they don't come out naturally in your telling. I didn't on this call, amazingly, and after a one second pause - created it, based on the character and the story I had made. Of course that answer was key, by the way. (and of course it was part of my prep, but for some reason I never articulated it in my notes)

SPOILERS:

You will be asked these spoilers that could shatter your world and tank your pitch, so be ready for them:

"I understand the first hero, but the second hero doesn't make sense to me, seems a mash of several different people. I don't see how that works." Don't fumfer around on that one or you're dead. They've just called you a crappy writer! Have your answer ready - in the guise of how you would cast this movie, and the talent that would play that part. Powerful charismatic people bring their own energy to a part that can pull together major swings in a character's arc. (Reese Whitherspoon in Blonde Ambition for exmaple, or Ian McShane of Deadwood). Place the actor in the role and defend your character.

"Why isn't there as much action in act 2 as there is in act 1?" Oh, but there is, wasn't I clear about that? Be ready. Perhaps you concentrated more on the dramatic elements, or character bits. Have your clear confrontations and conflicts at hand.

"I don't understand how that character can make the change you're talking about from the beginning to the middle. It doesn't work for me." Jesus, weren't they listening? It's very clear. Have your definitive moment that shatters your character's world - forcing them to see the true nature of their soul and change who they are. (This can be an act 1 into act 2 moment, or act 2 into act 3 moments, different characters have different lives).

"Do you see another movie after this one is over? If we were to build a franchise?" For crap sake, I just spent all this time putting together THIS story, now you want the next one too? This is a trap if you attempt to spin story number two, but there is a simple correct answer. "Oh, yes." Then follow that with "I'd have to think about it, but this is so RICH that there's plenty of OPPROTUNITY." Okay, you dodged that bullet. In reality, of course, that answer is always yes as the nature of stories with truly vivid characters are to weave on unending. Doyle tried to kill Sherlock Homles and look how that turned out.

Of course there are more spoilers, but these are fresh in my mind as they were just the ones I was asked today!

And I nailed the answer to each one because I was ready.

That isn't luck, or specifically great skill by the way, just a lot of hard work that you need to do before going in. Unless you do it, no one appreciates the amount of work that writers do. But if you do your work, you'll be fine. In the end, you can only do your best. So make sure that you do so. That way, you won't leave the call feeling that you missed an opportunity. Because you will not get a second chance.

Follow up: reps tell me call was received quite well and I'm to go to the next step, the final meeting before pitching to the head of production. Meeting is set for this Friday, so this is moving fast, they are very motivated. Very good sign.

Follow up: I've had a chat with the studio exec. about answers needed in this next meeting, the beats laid out clearly again, specifically two spots they thought needed attention, and this time, guess what, we'll all be in the room together.

An Indication of Positive Reinforcement

2006-01-17T01:16:00.000-08:00

So, I wound up polishing about 70 pages of my friend's script in one blast and sent it off in the middle of the night. Now, the structure was fine, well the third act is too mechanical, not emtional, but characters are flat, unreal, and not smart. And it's a detective thriller. How can you send that to talent?

So I made them smart, edgy, real, funny.

Now remember, he's the director fast tracked at a company with the film ready to go, but the draft came in disappointing and he's concerned the film will go away. To give you an idea of what's at stake for him, it's a company that won an acadamy award last year and they were thinking of going to Hillary Swank to star.

So he calls this morning and says he loves the changes. Can he come over?

There's nothing like positive feedback. Always makes me feel good.

So we work for several hours in my study and go back and forth on the changes. We also laugh a lot and probably because of the ridiculous situation we were in.

I experienced something very eye-opening, however, which was being completely free and creative in the moment without any tension (except for the time demand) because I was completely unattached to the material, and was literally searching for the the best movie to reveal itself to me and come out from the existing script. (by the way the original writers wrote a solid thriller, great structure, but weak characters. The re-write guy slowed down the pacing and gummed up the characters up more. Re-writing work is tricky and I of course don't know the notes he was given, conflicting as they may have been, and what he was attempting to satisfy and placate at the studio level).

Nevertheless, I really enjoyed myself. Now - that's the secret to inspired writing. No attachment.

It's the resistance we feel to changing our own work that sometimes creates the stress of the job. And that can be writing an original and re-writing it, or being a hired hand and attacking your second draft.

This business is one that takes you from "Puffed up to shattered in six weeks" as my wife likes to say. But there's something deeply teaching in the practice, if you can step back and appreciate it. Because your expectations and attachments are what puff you up pand shatter you. And if you literally stay with your work, day to day, in the moment, and just do good work - that in the end will be a reward. And that reward can manfiest material rewards in the real world as well.

Anyway, he's sent the script off tonight to the company and we'll learn this week if the work done has kept the project moving forward.

Today was fun. Reminded me of college.

Now why the hell can't I do that on my own script? Maybe I should get him back in here and give me notes. I'm hoping to take some of what I learned back to my own work, which can sometimes make me feel beaten down and lift myself back up when I'm feeling the ghoulies encroach.

Real Hollywood

2006-01-13T19:03:00.000-08:00

Got a call today. From a good friend of mine. Those of you who have read this blog for a while remember I was courted for a good gig back in autumn, at a high profile company, academy award winners. My friend is directing a thriller that has been green-lit by this independent financially solvent company (dependent on a good polish), the script needed a polish, he wanted me for the job.

That's a great set up, by the way. Couldn't be much better going in.

So I had a great meeting with the head of the company, and the head producer. They loved me. Then lost the job to another writer. My sample script they read wasn't perfect for the job, the other guy had one that nailed it.

Fine. It happens. Just another story in the big city. Another road kill on the job possibilities of life.

I had forgotten about it.

Until my friend called a few days ago. The director. The script came in beginning of the week, and it's awful. He's really upset. So he wanted me for the job again. Then he called back. The company has no money for any more writers. I shared my sympathies and offered a shoulder to cry on.

But could I look at it? And maybe offer some ideas? On four scenes? As it falls to him to cut and paste and write the thing back into shape? Why not - I love this guy, he really is a good friend. Sure I said today, I'll be glad to help you. "Great, I'll send you the script, I have to hand it in tomorrow," he says.

Jesus.

Welcome to Hollywood. Ready to go in and get paid for a good gig, don't get it, and now working for free and up all night on the same gig so my friend won't lose his film. You've got to love this shit, or it will drive you insane.

The Many Deaths of a Writer

2006-01-13T00:36:00.000-08:00

You'll feel it as you work, and an idea slips away, or a perfect structure suddenly tangles.

You'll feel it as months of hard work stares back at you and feels empty.

Or when you soldier on through that despair and hit the elation that comes from breathing true life into the once empty vessel and then getting your first ream of notes about how the hero isn't likeable, the story takes too long to get going, and the villain isn't working.

Writing alone in a little room, poor and hungry is bad enough. Writing professionally and being lanced regularly like an annoying boil makes the poor and hungry thing seem romantic.

Until you remember being poor and hungry and how that's really much less romantic in hindsight.

What makes it romantic? Staying true to your vision. Trusting your judgement. Letting the story shine through you.

These are the moments of the phoeonix when the death every writer experiences on any number of days is turned into new life.

It's the thing new writers can appreciate now, before they have to look back and appreciate it.

It's the thing veteran writers need to stay in touch with, as the re-write, adaptation and endless variations thereof require them to dig deep to their source, the spring where the new material comes from, and let that inspire their demands of the craft.

This profession has many deaths, daily, weekly, yearly. It needs to have many lives and re-births as well to keep one's talent blade sharp.

Find that thing that feeds your pheonix. New work not based on source material. Parallel work (poetry, book), music (composing or playing - that's my trick), painting, clay - what have you. Hell, just go to the gym or ride a bike to start if you're not doing tha tnow.

Creating is messy, demanding and thrilling. It shouldn't be endlessly controlled, contoured, adjusted, tweaked and strangled. Make sure you haven't put all your creative energy into one basket that will be blundgeoned to death regularly.

If you're channeling your creative fire into a creative profession, make sure you're feeding it too.

Meeting at Dreamworks

2006-01-11T01:49:00.000-08:00

The fun thing about Dreamworks is that it kind of seems like it's from a movie. The massive adobe structure is one that Indiana Jones would feel fine strutting through, if it were not for all of those offices full of executives.

But the meeting makes me think of the writer's job in meetings. There has been much written on this before, but I pretty much have to work from the moment, and this forced me to focus on the issues I had to face. So I pass on to you the simple advice I've learned over the years (from myself or from friends) for when you find yourself in a writer's meeting.

It's not a big list, by the way. But it may be a helpful one.

1) Don't sell yourself. Sell the movie.

Whatever has brought you in, an original pitch, a re-write of a script, or an adaptation of a book (why I was there) you are merely a conduit for all of the studio execs hopes and desires, which is simply to deliver a brilliant blockbuster of a movie. Their path to that, which could be through you, is simply a great script. And it may inspired by what you have to bring to the table. They want to feel that inspiration, and the only way to do that - is to take your natural love to of story telling and fill the room with it. The fact that you are there means you're already in play, so get to work and fill the room with passion and enthusiasm for what you feel for the project.

2) If you're there on any kind of re-write or adaptation, have two of the problems you found in the source material fixed and they will think you're a genius.

Part of the problem, the reason(s) this thing isn't a movie yet, or doesn't exist in script form yet, is the seemingly insurmountable difficulties with the existing source material. This could be a script in one of several conditions: (a)crappy with great hook b) merely good with great hook c) really great with great hook except they now need to change the leading man to a leading woman).

Now, all you story tellers out there can sense when something's not right. Always ask up front before your first meeting if there are specific issues or directions they've tried that didn't work on the existing material. Then follow your instincts. The leading lady doesn't sound like a lady? Has no lady friends? Has no community? (which women will do more than men) Bring that up and You will undoubtedly be solving a problem. Story is too static? Story is too kinetic? Here's the fix? Bring your sense of what makes a great movie to this movie, and that shows them why you're right for the job.

And, if it's a 400 page book, as in my case, what the hell do you cut and how do you get out of the lead character's head and onto the screenplay page?

Again - follow your instincts. After you close the cool but thoughtful first person narrative remember a film is visual. And the middle 200 pages in a survival desert camp doesn't make for great visual story telling. Condense it, get to the point, get out, and create a visual set piece that forces the hero's hand and challenges him on his/her greatest weakness they have to face.

Because in the end, all drama is the search for personal identity. And what forces the identity to be revealed, and how much it deepens/differs in the character we've come to know and love, makes for great drama.

So put that in.

3) Determine the theme, the lead character's arc, and your tone. Is it a coming of age story and a comedy? Terrific, you've once again put into words something they may not have realized, and help them see how the structure will fall into place, hopefully with greater clarity.

Is it a redemption story? Is it the return of the King?

This is very important by the way and a great way to frame the discussion of the story.

4) Lead the meeting. When you're handed the floor take it. Everyone in this business is scared, and they want to be told everything will be all right. That's your moment to show them why everything's all right. Don't try to copy anyone else's style, or be someone you're not, just be you. But not at 60%. Don't be a night light. Be you at 100%.

As for me, the meeting went well and now I'm off to the next meeting with the producing partners. Now I'll have to repeat the same meeting with new people, perhaps more indepth and with more detail.

It's kind of like shampoo instructions. Lather, rinse, repeat.

But as you do so, you're honing your own story, getting it cleaner, more polished. Many of us have been down many of these roads, and it doesn't guarantee a sale, but it guarantees that you give it your complete best so you can have no issue with your own presentation.

And in the end, that's all we have control over anyway, whatever aspect of life we're facing.

It's certainly one of the requirements of studio work. Hitting the rooms with clarity, energy and enthusiasm high.

The Perilous Promise of the Polish

2005-11-09T23:31:00.000-08:00

The irony of the polish is that in the step deal studios give to writers, the cheapest pass, the least costly for the studio, the one they determine as least work, is the polish.

Now, building a script from scratch is big work, no kidding, and deserves just compensation.

But what's the deal with the polish, the smoothing out the rough edges, being so deadly? Why does it bring fear to the hearts of executives? And why does it require such keen attention from writers?

Because it's the classic "so close, yet so far" stage. All the pieces may be in place, but the piece may have no life. Or it has the wrong life and you have to shape it, or recast it. And even though the changes are small - their impact is huge. "We're 90% there, but no one's showing it to talent yet" you may hear their voices quavering with a "please please please don't fuck it up" kind of a ring to it.

There's a great Ray Bradbury short story called "A Sound of Thunder" about a man who travels millions of years into the past on a travel adventure, accidentally steps on and kills a butterly, and returns to a present that is different. Some things look the same, but languge is different, the culutre is suddenly war-like, the colors chosen for clothing are all wrong - and he did it all by killing that butterfly all those millions of years ago. Without that butterfly, the story of the world developed differently.

A polish is delicate You don't want to kill your butterly.

And at the same time, you want to hone it, tighten it, make your characters shine and your scenes snap.

And you better go to the mat with your own emotional landscape and make sure you're really delivering true performances from your characters.

This is the nature of the polish, and why it's so ironically demanding. After all that effort to get 90% in, you need to put 90% into the polish.

What is very telling is the glee factor. You should be feeling real glee as you pass in and out of each scene - you should be able to see it in front of you in the theater. It should all feel that close and that positive.

If not, maybe you need to be writing more than a polish.

I myself have had the confounding experience of blasting out a first draft in three weeks, and sitting with my polish for twice that time. But part of creating is feeling the life you generate into a piece. You have to ride that delicate balance of allowing yourself to follow the life you've generated, while also guiding it, controlling it.

I'm closing in. Taking out my file one last time.

Rumors of my blog's death are greatly exaggerated

2005-11-07T21:54:00.000-08:00

Hey, the very kind words and concerns were greatly appreciated during my time in my cave where I put keyboard to grindstone to polish down my recently blasted out first draft. Is it finished? Not yet, but I'm closing in and suppose I feel confident for the first time I haven't destroyed everything good in it, and have actually, finally, made it better. I have some thoughts to share on the perilous promise of the polish, and the irony in re-discovering how much work goes into the last 10%, after all the work you put into the first 90%. It's the first math to provide the calculation 100% of product requires 310% of energy. This and more in the next post.

Thanks also to Anna from Iceland, Jeff M. and the others who emailed me directly with words of kind concern and where the F are you? As well as the cadre of public posters many of whom have become the usual suspects on our mutual writing blogospheres.

The Internet is a brilliant gift to the writers of this world who want to be part of the public stage, has revived the long dead practice of correspondence, and has provided a forum of sharing ideas until now limited to the poker games, pool side chats and night clubbing of those with "access". I find it very meaningful to be part of sharing what I know, and still learning what I don't.

It Doesn't Suck!

2005-09-18T19:05:00.000-07:00

Hey, how's that for a review? Make a great copy line for the poster someday, too, woudn't it?

Well, the good news is, for those of you who haven't been following, the script I just wrote in three weeks, which is a rough draft, really doesn't suck, which is kind of surprising! I've taken longer and come out with real disapointments. Other times I've taken even longer and after a very intensive brutalizing of myslef, have come out with pieces I've love. But the short race to the finish and a good product is unusual and amazing.

So now I'm polishing, and trying to stay at a good clip as well, for it's easy to fall into detail re-write loop hell easily, and stay there for the rest of the year. But I find myself getting pulled into too many details - and literally have to detach.

You know the saying "analysis is paralysis"? There's something to that in artistic work - you have to trust your gut on a lot of this, and not work your story to death in the details. This, alas, is exactly what Hollywood Development does. They kill flow. You have to try and resuscitate your draft with the electric paddles every time you get notes.

But when you're writing an original, we all have to ride that very difficult line of being oh too precious about our work, while also not being so stupid as to cut the good stuff to keep the page count down. Stay with the flow, stay with the energy, trim the excess.

So, how does one ride that edge?

Unfortunately, for those of you who haven't done it enough to know, there is no formula for that one. That's why re-write and polish people at the top levels really get top dollars. Because they can bring an element of effortless poetry to a rushed and sometimes heavy handed industry of story telling.

What I've learned, after all this time, is two things:

1) After months (years for some?) of intensive work, when you really do polish a cut diamond from a mound of clay you've blasted out, it's a tremendous feeling. It's easy to also own the process, in the sense of establishing yourself in your own mind as a genius. Until you start writing the next piece and discover you're back at square one, clay level zero, and how the hell do you write again? It's dispiriting, and depressing, doubt generating and awful. And what's amazing is, it's non-time dependent. You can write for one year, or twenty, and still feel this way every time you start a project. (A friend of mine, an academy award winner, was sharing with me the suffering he was going through on a project over the summer) The saving grace of time, is that if you've done it a few times, you just know that you can do it.

2) If you have taken into your own identity your brilliance, you have to take in your dimness as well, that is when you're a solid block of cement and consider yourself a failure on those days. That's a real drag - and if the bad days stretch for months, they can become years - it's a self fulfilling prophecy for some.

But if you realize that you have fashioned yourself into a lens, one that lets through the brilliance of the creative source from somewhere other than you, then it becomes your job to fashion what comes through. You don't take in the judgement of being in flow, or lack of flow. You just sit in your chair as long as it takes to get the job done, try to get out of the way as much as possible, and let the brilliance come through. Then you can know it will get done, as that inspirational source that comes from beyond is always there, always brilliant, timeless and unending.

So.

I sit, and apply my lens to the work, and try to let the inspiration flow through me and tighten, polish, tighten, hone.

Finished the Rough First

2005-09-07T01:14:00.000-07:00

Been absent from blogging as I dove head first into this first draft. Just finished my first rough first pass and wrote THE END. It was quite a rush, and unbelievably difficult to pull off. I went with imperfect scenes, unpolished narrative, some flat dialogue (and some really good) but kept the flow going, and structurally feels like everything is in the right place. Haven't written a script this quickly in a very long time, probably 15 years.

Now I have to get some sleep and when I wake up, see if the durned thing makes any sense.

Wouldn't it be cool if it did?

The Second Act Slump

2005-08-25T22:21:00.000-07:00

God, I hate it. I think it is what kills most prospective writers (and pros) from finishing original work, and it's what we all curse and bemoan and torture our wives, pets, or significant others during, and often finish only during assignments because - well, we have a deadline.

And it's what I'm in now. And I had a really good outline.

So what does it mean?

Simple. Not enough tension.

How many times have we all sailed happily up to the first act break and then stopped as if we had reached the flat end of the world, and beyond is the fall into the abyss? Oh, you haven't? Woops.

A good friend of mine, an award winner, says he has more great first acts than anything else, and has no idea what to do with half of them.

I think that's par for the course. We all have great ideas like that. What makes for a long form work is mounting tension, the beginnings of unfinished business, and the characters that play these ideas out over multiple story lines, slowly answering the small questions, until the big question is answered at the end.

So it's crucial in act one, to begin starting your unfinished business. That is the tension that crosses over from act one into act two and beyond, in and under the main story of your hero. Sure, he/she has ever increasing problems or confusions. But along with that are the secondary stories that are asking their own questions, supporting characters coming into conflict, setting up betrayals, enemies who may become friends, etc.

Look there to find the key to unlock the slump.

Adjustments to Comments

2005-08-23T21:38:00.000-07:00

There is a slightly new look to the site. A pop up window for comments, which I think will help anyone who wants to post, as you can flip easily back to the blog and check a post. And now I am forced to have "word recognition" as part of posting a comment, to block out the evil computer moron spammers who have recently glommed on to me to post shameless and stupid ads in the guise of personal posts - only to come off as posted by someone with severe head trauma on heavy duty pain meds typing in the dark to whom English is a second, possibly third language.

Well, no more of that.

Anyway, I take it as a good sign!

Don't Forget The Rules

2005-08-23T01:57:00.000-07:00

A condensed rehash of everything discussed here over the last weeks and months.

Morton's Rules of Script Management

1) Blink Characters. (Inspired by the book "Blink" by Malcolm Gladwell. In which he theorizes a person can know more about an object in a two second glance, than in six months of research. Fascinating idea.) Forget the 40 pages of pre-history backstory you're supposed to write about a character. Look at the guy at the bus stop. Do you have a sense about him? How does he talk? What his life has become? That is your "unconscious knowing" about something. Trust it more than the 40 pages of research. Write THAT into your character so you know them instantly, and by the second line of dialogue, we know them.

2) Start deep in the middle. Especially at the beginning. This could mean starting with a plane crash, of which the story is about. Or starting deep into your character's story, who may not have made the plane yet, but who's life is at the breaking point.
Start Deep from a character point of view: Is their emotional breaking point obvious? Is their emotional breaking point not obvious but ready to go? Or, are they at any breaking point, but their world is? And in that cataclysm they will be forced to face the true nature of their soul, which will challenge them on every level, and allow them to become who they truly are, something they dearly needed?
Start Deep from a structure point of view: You start in the middle of a story, or at the beginning of a story on some edge, where upheaval is imminent, to change the world, and that change comes into direct conflict with the hero on every level, bringing about the suffering required to shatter the hero from their complacency into a new place of their true self. And with that new self, they head to the story's end.

4) Hero Rule (there's just one). Make things bad for the hero. T hen make them really bad. Then make them worse. That's the rule. Remember, you're not the hero's friend. Don't shy away from putting them through the blender, whether physical or emotional.

5) Bad Guy in your Face. Whatever the hero wants? The bad guy can't let it happen. So he or his energy has to be around, and be formidable. Opposites attract. People forget this sometimes.

6) Don't Ever Resolve Tension. And I'll say it again. Keep tension high and DON'T resolve it. You may provide answers in scenes that directly speak to questions you've raised earlier, but keep new questions coming, and please leave the BIG one unanswered until the end.

7) Tight Alignment. Keep the hero, the bad guy, the emotional draw and the hero's task tightly aligned. Keep all confrontations tightly wound along the straight line of your story. And please keep the confrontation frequent in your orchestration and structure.

8) Stay Emotional. Make sure it's all coming from a character's need, or you're just writing stage directions.

9) Open The Heart. Vulnerability, loss, selflessness, sacrifice, giving to another before themselves, surrender, death (and re-birth) are all the pots of gold at the end of the hero's rainbow. That is their victory, receiving that moment of grace, when they become bigger than they were at the beginning, and embrace and expand into everything else!

Comedy vs. Drama in first drafts

2005-08-23T01:55:00.000-07:00

Some very interesting posts lately, good points, good advice, good personal stories, thanks to all as I think it helps anyone who comes to read. Something to take away from all of us. Particularly on the last few posts about speed writing.

It shows there are many paths to the same goal, the trick I guess is to stay on the path, don't get off and wash the dishes, then go out for coffee, then come home and take a nap. (That was almost a full day of writing for me in my twenties).

Steve Peterson's post got me to thinking. A great quote from Hitchcock, or a great half remembered quote anyway:

"I read somewhere that Hitchcock would tell the writer to work out all the action, then once that was write fill in the dialogue at the end."

There's something fabulous about this, as it shows Hitchcock's origins as a silent film director, and a real visualist. A true creator of stories in pictures, he knew how an able writer could fill in the emotional chaff that now had to fill up his talkie.

But I write both comedy and drama. And it made me realize, if I were to do that with a comedy - just write a simple action version of it, it will of course look like a drama. Because a good comedy has just as much dramatic structure in it as a good drama. Sure, you could pepper it with jokes, I've had to do so in treatments. But you can't do that in the long form, blasting through a comedy script.

The tone is what makes a comedy different.

Action is action, clear cut desire vs. opposition to desire. If there is misbehaviour in relationships and situations, it makes for great story telling.

Comedy is laminated. You are protected from the misbehaviour in relationships and situations during the same desire vs. opposition to desire, because of the TONE. You know you don't have to feel the character's emotional pain, as their reactions tend to be emotionally inappropriate, and that of course is why it is funny. And that, of course, is why it's safe to laugh at them.

So the language in a comedy is crucial. As are the excess and insanity in the same "misbehaviour in relationships and situations."

In the end, it means you have to be able to write funny, or it won't be funny, regardless of how well structured it is.

So the point of this post is the feeling that it's important to write funny from page one in your first draft as you proceed, because if there's no air in the balloon, no cheese in the souffle, no whip in the cream, it'll just be flat pages of writing.

And someone please make me stop using extra colorful descriptors, please.

thanks.

As this pertains to first draft work, or speed writing I feel; whereas you can blast forward with dramatic structure and script in a first draft, like Hitchcock asked of his writer, with the knowing that one you can go back and fix character work if the structure is sound, you can feel assured that the whole thing will play.

But the same is not so for a comedy.

Not in my experience, anyway. It has to be funny as you roll along, or it's just a bad drama. So in that case, I do recommend going back, finding the funny thread, understanding the character oppositions, weaknesses and impossible situations that make it funny, and continue writing from there, generating pages that are funny as you proceed.

Rewriting As You Go. When is Enough, Enough?

2005-08-20T17:45:00.000-07:00

This is a tricky one. Really tricky for me. I write quickly. This doesn't mean I finish a project quickly, however, it means I generate a lot of pages. And, as all writers know, as you write, things will begin to reveal themselves as you head into your story.

Unexpected things, fabulous things, bizarrre things and bad things.

All these things you may never have imagined at the onset, even with your fabulous outline. But now that you've found them, you may want to include them in your work, which means changing your piece. And sometimes that means changing your piece from the beginning.

Before you've gotten to the end.

So there you are on page 15, and you suddenly realize a brilliant idea that needs to be teased on page two, so you have to go back and adjust.

Or maybe you get the sound of a character's voice right on page thirty. (I've done that. Thought I had it on page one, but boy was I wrong. And when it came in right, it was so clear!)

So that means I want to go back and spruce up that guy/girl up from the onset, so they talk correctly, right? Otherwise when I read the whole draft back it will feel wrong in the beginning.

As some of you know, I'm testing myself to see if I can write a script quickly, like in a few weeks. I'm 40 pages in, but I have just realized a major character change needs to be made and some structural changes put into the first act, changes that I wasn't aware of two days ago, but I realize now are crucial, or the script will really not work.

How did I figure this out? Not enough tension in act two.

Hey, everything seemed to work fine in my short outline, when I started, re-writing was not in the plan, okay?

but I realized as I was writing, that my characters were not orchestrated correctly. There's nothing worse than forced writing. You become aware of it when you're constructing scenes that are situationally tense, but lack tension from the character's drive or need. This is usually what "b" writing or "pulp" writing is - but no offense meant to Bill Cunningham over at Disc/ontent whose blog I reccomend for some very interesting reading about some very challenging writing in impossible time frames.

Anyway, back to me.

So now I'm re-writing the first 40 pages. This puts a real damper on the whole daily page count thing, as there isn't one suddenly. I'm rehashing the delta of the stream, the first bubblings of the pot, because I feel if I don't get jazzed by the tension up front, I can't fake it all the way through.

But I was supposed to blast straight through to THE END, right?

So this has made me think - when does it serve you to go back and re-write, while you are still in your first draft?

Or - the real question: when are you actively enhancing and deepening your project, and when are you just spinning your wheels and wasting your time?

Or shall we put it this way: when are you shaping like a glass blower and polishing a fine object, and when are you caught in a loop, perhaps using the "endless rewrite" to avoid finishing on some unconscious level? (Don't laugh, I know people who've gone into therapy after years of inability to finish projects and have discovered this).

Rod Serling, who cranked out just about every episode of the Twilight Zone in the first three years, and most in the last two, said it took him several days to write a whole teleplay, a week from idea to finished script. He pretty much knew by the second day to drop an idea if he wasn't cranking pages. This is becuase he felt it wasn't working on some level. He knew it instinctively. He didn't take the luxury of figuring out why, he just dropped it, cut the weeds and moved on to a new idea. Because the energy wasn't there, the tension wasn't in the writing, the delight wasn't in the idea, whatever.

Re-writing while you write is kind of like this. And I think I can boil it down to some simple rules or ideas.

1) You must start with a very clear premise, so you know where you start and where you finish.

2) Any adjustments you make must sharpen the premise.

3) Any adjustments you make must increase the conflict between the characters or raise the stakes for the hero, but not change the premise.

4) Any adjustments you make must bring the hero, his desire (love interest or task), and his opponent's refusal to let it happen, all come into direct opposition, without changing the premise.

I really think that's it. Anything else, and you're spinning your wheels. Sure we can discuss new characters, second opponents, new reversals, there's a lot of cool things you can come up with as you write. But I think it comes down to not breaking the above rules. Otherwise you are probably writing tangentially, off topic, or into cool parallel universes of your story that in the end won't be your story.

Focus. Don't relent. Come up with a good premise. Assemble and oppose the characters. Keep them drawn tight to your premise line. And if there is no tension, or they begin to stray, that's a warning sign. And check the rules above.

And let me know if I missed any.

Speed Writing/staying on point

2005-08-17T20:41:00.000-07:00

In order to write a piece quickly, you must have an idea of who is going to be in it, (character, not casting. Seeing an actor in a part you're writing can be an interesting tool, however, but it's for another post). and you must know the broad path of their story. You need to have a sense of the beginning, middle, end, obstacles, breakthroughs and showdowns.

Now remember, speed writing isn't for everyone. But it might be the thing to knock the cobwebs off an old idea, or the hesitancy out of a new one. If your process is one that is easily distracted, or caught up in double think, jamming through on an urgent deadline might help you to sit in your chair, focus and come up to speed.

And the only way you'll do it, is if you have an idea of what it is you already want to write.

A tremendous amount of energy goes into the shaping of the macro idea once inspiration has struck. To outline it, or beat sheet it, or flow chart it, or whatever your process is, requires real promethean fire, to turn clay into life. and that's just in outline form. Is it exciting? Does it have energy? To see the big picture, no pun intended, one has to work.

Only when you're there, can you take advantage of trying to blast through the many scenes, interactions and nuances that make up a screenplay. If you're trying to come up with the story, while racing through it to get to the end, you'll mire yourself in the swamps of creative confusion, where many choices seem possible, many directions seem valid and off you race at the same breakneck speed, while trying to build the road you're racing on at the same time.

Don't do it, it doesn't work.

And I know. Because I've tried that, and learned the hard way.

This time I know where I'm going. I know the shape of the story, the charcters, and what ails them. I haven't solved all the little problems, but I know the big ones. And I think that's crucial. As we write, the little details begin to change anyway, but if your glass is solid enough, you can fill it.

Just remember to have a clear lock on your character (s). Everything comes from them at the start, and it all flows from them in the end.

Speed Writing

2005-08-15T14:49:00.000-07:00

Can one write a good screenplay in a short time? It's certainly been done. I did it once in my twenties and sold it. Haven't been able to pull it off again. Why? Who the hell knows?

The fascinating thing about screenwriting is that the structure is so well delineated at this point, that if one can build that house, and has the channel open inside them to populate it with real living characters, then time would seem to be a non-dependent function of the process.

Some should be able to do this quickly, some will require a very long time (I have a friend who writes a script and it takes a year - if he's doing an original, and he's brilliant and very highly regarded).

Of course my friend has learned to adapt to the rigorous time demanding schedule of the professional scribe as well, it's something any professional writer needs to do, period. Regardless of where your paycheck is written, we all write to deadlines. Newspaper, television, news or creative, it's all very demanding.

So, don't feel badly if you can't write like a speeding freight train, is the message. You write at your own speed. However, if you crave a job on the speeding freight train, you're going to have to amp up your muscle and figure out how to get to speed. If you're creating an original feature, then it matters less. When you sell the original feature and are asked to re-write it in 8-12 weeks, it will matter more.

So all this has gotten me to thinking about speed. I can write quickly for others in a professional capacity. I've built up the ability after years of requiring to do so. (I couldn't do so when I started and sold my first pieces, by the way, and lied and said I could and then had to figure out how).

But now that I can, I haven't written quickly for myself in years. Why not?

Sometimes I've been very busy. But what about the times when I haven't been? I'm afraid I have fallen into the category of writer who's a little bit precious about their own work, I want to drench it in time, and then in my case - lose the thread and stare back at the mess and go - WTF? Why was I connected to this in the first place? Can't I get a re-write gig somewhere?

Writing quickly prevents you from losing that connection. There are other issues, but that's not one of them.

So I'm going to give this a shot and see if I can pull one out of the hat. I'm ten pages into a new piece, and will see if I can finish it in two weeks. Why the hell not? The only thing holding any of us back is hard work, commitment and belief in ourselves. Relatively, we've got it pretty easy if you look at what's going on in the rest of the world.

Birthday

2005-08-13T21:23:00.000-07:00

Well, it's my birthday. So I'm taking the day off. Wow. What a concept. Should do this more often. Had a lot of fun!

Titles

2005-08-12T22:55:00.000-07:00

Someone has asked me to re-title an old project It's a lot harder than it seems. And as my producer friend came up with a rather straightforward (and therefore unexciting option), which I declined, I realized it fell to me to think of one. And it's not so easy. And so it got me to thinking about titles.

I think a good title is a very important aspect to your work.

Titles are the first thing anyone hears or sees. It has a job.

And the job is twofold.

First fold: your title has to promise some aspect of what your story delivers, So no stupid generic titles please. But something simple, cryptic, or fragmentary that is a promise, or a tease of a promise. ("Jaws" Dramatic, simple. You see the point. But "Lost In Translation" is also brilliant, and very poetic.)

Second fold: (already hinted at) your title needs to be compelling, teasing, odd, eye catching - funny, if you can manage it for a comedy. Weird or unsettling if it's a thriller.

If you have a thriller with multiple characters, It'd rather it be something like: Butcher, Baker, Boogey Man, Thief. Because even though it doesn't really make sense, it's so interesting I'd want to see what the writer did. See what I mean?

And, if you can pull it off: titles that have more than one meaning or very compelling. You can take the first meaning of it at face value, then if there is a second meaning as well as you get into/finish the piece, and it's all the more deeper and more satisfying. It's not required, and certainly this isn't always possible, but it's very cool if you can manifest it.

Anyway, thought for the day, probably because I'm now forced to think about it.

p.

Page Turner

2005-08-10T22:21:00.000-07:00

How do you write a page turner? How do you make your work such that the reader is compelled to keep flipping, even if they promise themselves to read only ten pages, and you've still got them on page fifty and going strong?

The answer is unervingly simple.

Tension.

Many writers, particularly beginners, don't embrace this dynamic.

Many beginners have also read too many books about writing, which talk about scenes having beginnings, middles and ends. So they write beginnings middle and ends to each scene.

Do you see a problem here? What happens at the end of something. Is there any tension left?

No. There is resolution.

So the trick is - a scene may end, but the tension does not.

Don't be afraid of a scene fragment. Don't be afraid to start in the middle of a scene and go to the end, or start at the beginning and just get to the middle and cut away. There are many ways to execute this idea. Now, don't be a bad writer and create stuff that doesn't make sense because it's incomplete - that's not what I'm saying.

But as I gave an example in our workshop: If you start a film with a car speeding along on the highway. Cut to the man driving. Cut to the woman in the passanger seat. Cut to her handcuffed wrist to the inside of the door. Cut to her waking up in bedfroom from this memory, sweating, disturbed, and then start a normal day.

And you've started your film. Wow, don't you want to know what the hell happened? You have also set the tone. This is a realistic drama, where the hero can be hurt, and possibly made quite dead.

That's tension. From this one partial scene, and it can be an underlying through-line that haunts the hero (but will unfold slowlys throughout the film) and will affect her present story (which unfolds throughout the film).

There are many ways to do it. Look to your work and find the conflict, make sure it's generated by a clash of your characters' needs. Don't resolve the tension, keep the energy up in your scenes, and even as they come to end by characters learning things about each other, or about the plot, keep the tension alive.

Tone

2005-08-08T23:25:00.000-07:00

One of the most important aspects of the craft of screenwriting is establishing a clear and consistent tone throughout your story. Its more important than the jokes in a comedy, more important than the poetic lines in a tragedy. Because if your tone is inconsistent, you'll lose the hook that pulled the audience in, in the first place.

You'll be asked about it in you meetings on originals and re-writes, and if you blow it in your draft, you'll get notes on it when you hand in. You'll be asked for other movies like the one you're imagining, writing, finished, so that people can get an idea of what you're after.

So what is tone? The sound that the channels used to make when they signed off for the night? (Okay, that was a long time ago. Don't know what I mean? Really? Forget it.)

It is literally the emotional response that you generate from your narrative. And that response can run the spectrum from comic to dramatic.

What's the simple rule?

The comic hero is immortal. However bad it gets, we know he's never going to buy it, so we know we can laugh at his pain.

The dramatic hero is a poor stooge like the rest of us who bleeds, and will die, and holy gee, it could happen right in this scene!

Now you have to break it down a bit further.

What kind of comedy are you writing? Broad, slapstick, situational, absurdist, farce, dark, black comedy (and I don't mean a casting choice, but a black comedy has inappropriate emotional responses to real dramatic situations to get the laugh). You'd better make sure you know what you're doing and keep the rules the same throughout. And how about the drama? Realistic, hyper-real, stage-play, operatic, epic.

And it has to be consistent throughout the piece, or your audience will sense something wrong and will jump ship. They'll the feel the bubble that we call the suspension of disbelief, which is essentially a fancy way to say all that flickering light on that big screen up there which seems so REAL that you fall into it and forget yourself - unless that bubble has burst, and suddenly all those folks in those seats are thinking about the rules of the movie - what the hell are the rules? Why did he say that? Am I supposed to be worried or not? And you don't want your audience thinking that.

Example: You want to write an action movie, but you want the hero to be funny. The Bruce Willis model. Still works really well. But how funny? What's the tone? The tone is - as funny as your guy is, you'd better believe he might be killed in every scene, and that his emotional life is real and grounded in reality. That's a clear tone. And has to be the choice for this film to work. You can probably name 30 movies with this tone. But you know this world, it feels real.

Example: You want to write a comedy, but you want the hero to be such a complete idiot that no one in their right mind would let them into their life, let alone into a conversation. How does that make sense? What's the tone? You give your hero a great air of authority and self confidence that he's always right, and that he thinks everyone else is just a little off. And that's a very clear tone. Though I'm thinking of Dumb and Dumber, it works for the Panther films and probably another 30 comedies I can't think of this second. And you know this world too. It will seem real.

When Silence of the Lamb starts, you know on page two what the tone is. And you pretty much want to leave the theater and go find a safe place. Because the tone is very real, very realistic, the danger is very realistic, and in reality, people die. Your hero is entering the lion's den and she's fresh meat.

When A Girl Like Mary starts, you pretty much know on page two what the tone is, and you drop all notions of common sense and get ready to laugh your ass off. Who cares if it doesn't make realistic sense? Nothing does. The joke is, we enter the normal situations of boy loses girl, boy gets girl, but everything is going to be extreme and weird, and that's where the laughs are.

Know your tone. Make sure it maintains. Make sure it emmanates from your characters and your world. Be consistent. Establish it clearly in your mind as you create your piece, you will find it actually buoys you along and helps guide you as much as any character and any plot point.

All In The Family

2005-08-03T21:47:00.000-07:00

People are social creatures. We crave community. From the busy social butterflies who need a PDA to keep their lists of 5000 close and personal friends organized, to the lonely hearts who bring in animals off the street, or just know the neighbors on their apartment floor, everyone creates community.

And so you must attend to this in creating any character in your stories.

Like a pebble thrown into a pond, and following the concentric rings out, you have to follow energy outwards from every character in your story. Everyone will have connections of some kind, a network, a web that character spins in which they live. It won't only help you refine your central character, but every other character as well.

This is the technique to keep your stories grounded and real.

There's nothing worse than reading a script about people, even if they're well drawn, who have no friends, or family - or if they do, act appropriately around them.

We all create family. We come from family and it's our nature to recreate it. Whether it's a literal "nucular" family as our President would say, or a group of young single guys in a strange city bonding together, or a group of soldiers bonding in Iraq, or a group of young women bonding at boarding school. It's all family.

So see where in the family your character falls, whether he's the hero, the friend, the obstacle or the opponent. Drama? Dysfunctional family. Comedy? REALLY dysfunctional family. And decide if your character has the energy of "the dad (stern or nurturing)" "the mom (strict or openhearted?)", "siblings" (A type first born? Fighting to be heard second born? etc. )

We all know family, what family has your character created?

Why Must There Be Suffering? It's Fun!

2005-08-02T17:21:00.000-07:00

Why is there suffering in stories? Why is it essential to put your characters through the meat grinder? Because there is suffering in life, and all good stories distill the essence of real life in a concentrated time frame.

It's like Hitchcock's famous quote:"Movies are real life with the boring parts taken out."

Then it falls to us to answer the larger question, so that we can understand it's purpose in the first question of this post. Why is there suffering in life?

Because we come into this life as dense beings, aware mostly of ourselves and convinced that the world is centered around us. Loss, emotional pain, physical pain, threat of extinction, any suffering breaks us down, and makes us compassionate to the pain felt by others. It makes us realize there is more to life than our own wants and needs, it makes us reach outside of ourselves as the only way to survive, when all hope and physical abilitiy seems lost.

It's the old saying:"there are no athiests in a fox hole". Suffering makes you reach outside of yourself to the moment when you go "please God or whatever else is up there, please please help me." This call to something greater, this letting go, is the deepest transformation a person - and therefore - a character, can go through.

That is why your character has to suffer. It's the only thing that is going to break them down, shatter their patterns, crack their shell, bust up their narccistic nature and make them realize there is not only more to the world than what's under their own skin, but their potential is magnified when they call on something higher to be more than they currently are, to be all that they can be - and finally discover their fullest potential.

There are mary variations of the higher call. It can be falling in love, dying for love, surrendering to God - possibly in a death state - and coming back with higher powers (Star Wars and the Matrix touch on this), or just literally "breaking" and coming back from having one's character broken a better stronger person (Paul Newman in Hud). That, of course, is the definition of "Shaman" not only a person who is a medium between the visible world and the invisible world, but literally a "shattered man".

You must be broken down, shattered, and suffer, to expand, to grow, to transform, and become a new complete and fully realized "you".

This would be considered a "birth and death" cycle in spiritual terms, and in one life there can be many such cycles. For best storytelling, often the chracter refuses to embrace hardship and suffering as tools for change and growth. They rail against it, fight it, resist it at all costs. Then, appropriately smashed and flattened at the end of the second act, they must rise again like the phoenix, and realize only now that their whole way of looking at life was limited, wrong, near sighted. Now with expanded understanding and a new and fuller depth of spirit, they bring a fantastic new authority and power to their finale.

Fortunately for the rest of us, we don't have to do that, if we choose not to. We can embrace hardship as the teacher it is and grow faster than our characters might.

Good Workshop!

2005-07-30T23:32:00.000-07:00

A few of us got together and had a nice long chat on process and theory. It was great to hear about where everyone was in their writing, and share on where they were stuck. Hopefully, we can all take something away from today and get a little bit more unstuck. Thanks for sharing your time.

Common Mistakes

2005-07-29T22:26:00.000-07:00

I think one of the hardest things for a writer to do well, (this can be present company included), is often the mistake I see in amateur and professional work alike. It's the hollow line of dialogue. It's the one that reads with the intent of the writer and not the intent of the character.

Non-poetic, uninspired narrative is something a script can survive if the dialogue is great. Bad dialogue and you kill your script. And ten pages in the door will be closed by any prospective reader, and any future life for that story comes to an end. And it won't matter that your script is perfectly structured (which it will need to be as well, by the way, sorry, didn't I mention that?)

Sometimes dialogue error is subtle, the writer placing information in a line of dialogue that's important and you just get a sense that it's off, a certain line doesn't ring true. Sometimes it's laughable and the character is literally stating her exposition, background and need.

Subtle error:

Jane: Bob, why do you work here so late all the time?
Bob: People ask me fewer questions, Jane.

It's funny, because in the answer, he's telling her what he likes to avoid. It's subtle error - her flat out clumsy question. It's not that the information is wrong, it's just not the way a person talks. It's the way the writer needed to let you know Bob's hours - something that will obviously be important to the story. What's good? The implication in Bob's line - why doesn't he like being asked questions? Something we might learn...

Enormous error:

Jane: The Arthur Thomas Publishing Building. The largest publisher in the United States. Come on, Bob, let's take our manuscript inside and show them we're their next best seller!
Bob: Gee, think Arthur Thomas has an ego as big as the building he built for himself?

Do I have to point out why it's so bad? I've read lines like this. People don't state where they are. They don't state facts you'd find in an encyclopedia in natural dialogue, they don't state their intent and desire. And this happens more than you'd think.

So how do you write great dialogue?

Listen to how people talk. Short fragments. Half thoughts. Often in the moment. Usually started in the middle of a thought. And always with the implication of something other. What's the other? Usually what they want. What they got, or didn't get. What they're emotionally connected to. You have to write from your character's emotional center.

example:

Lois: So where'd you go last night?
Stan: You said drinks. I had one.

See why that's great? Because I wrote it. Okay, aside from that. It implies so much with so little. They're friends. They're very different, one likes to party, one doesn't. A social butterfly, and a loner. And the implication about the evening - what happened to each of them? One split early, one had a late night. And will we find out? Do you want to know more about them?

Good writing pulls you in. Like a great photographer who knows how to frame a picture so we don't see everything. It's like a good game of poker. Don't show your hand right off, or you'll lose. Tease us. Don't give it all away right out of the gate.

Can You Track The Process of Development and Can One Learn From It?

2005-07-27T15:14:00.000-07:00

An interesting question:

I have been reading heaps of scripts to try and teach myself the style of writing...sort of getting used to it. I must admit, one thing I find fascinating is reading early drafts of the movies (after having seen the final movie) as it shows me what they have changed, to hopefully have improved the movie.

Is this a good idea, or should I concentrate more on the final product(I normally read both if I can source them)?

I know you can't give a definite, but would appreciate your thoughts on the matter.

cheers
Dave

I think everyone is different, and too much information can overload some people. This will cause overthink - get one too much into "mind" and that will cut off any true creative flow as the "editor" will be alive and well in your brain and shouting "no, wrong, bad, stop!" every fifteen seconds.

That being said, if you are able to read multiple drafts, and truly appreciate and follow the changes, it's fascinating. I myself found this a learning process into the making of movies when I started. The first draft of Star Wars, for example, is unrecognizable from the first film. Is it a good script? Not exactly, it sort of has all the ideas that were in the first three films. It makes you understand why multiple studios passed on it. But it's filled with exciting ideas and multiple characters. Now that you know the film, you can see choices made as to why the script was changed. It needed to be simpler, it had to flow better, it needed a straight through line with an urgent driving force, one basic story, not multiple stories. And Lucas found his way there. But seeing where he started, where we all start - manifesting thoughts out of thin air into flesh and bone, can be inspiring. It reveals the ugly truth that it doesn't always fall correctly onto the page the first, second, or even fifth time out. Or if it does, for some reason it was re-shaped into a new version with a new life, and does it work better? It also shows one that, not only are there many false starts before the winning draft, but also that we're all human, and all go through the same process of try and try again. That alone might be encouragement enough for some. "They did it, I can too if I work hard enough, period." It was for me.

Reading is Fundamental

2005-07-26T08:12:00.000-07:00

A reader asks:

Can you suggest some screenplays to read that illustrate good writing? Maybe some bad ones that still made money? Where do I find these screenplays (I live in Idaho - so don't tell me to go to the store on the corner of Melrose and Armpit)

It's as good question, and a very important learning tool. For all the self help books about good writing out there, there is nothing that replaces reading a script and seeing how an author laid it out. Seeing how dialogue plays on the page, scene lengths, choice of narrative, etc. Making sure it's a good script doesn't hurt, though you can learn from the bad ones too. The following is a short list of suggestions and where to go to find them.

First, a few of my favorite screenwriters:

Cameron
Coppola
William Goldman
Bruce Joel Rubin
Nick Kazan
Charlie Kaufman
John Wells
Richard Curtis
Chris Gerolmo
Paddy Chayefsky
Cohen Brothers

But every list you make will reveal your favorite predilictions in writing. Wit, raw drama, eloquent speeches or near silence and powerful images. It's all good, as long as it inspires you.

And I think it serves you best if you don't limit your reading to screenplays only. A good novel,
non-fiction or poetry that compels you will always shower you with new ways to put words together, explain a moment, create a mood - and set you off to re-capture a mood you were handed by another writer, describe a moment now in only a few words, or come up with an entire new film idea - merely because you read some good writing, and therein will always lie new inspiration.

Sites to go to where you can download scripts for free and see how the others are doing it:

Drew's Script-o-rama
Simply Scripts
All Movie Scripts

Additional note: Thanks to Grubber for the new link:
Scripts For You

How Can You Tell If Your New Idea is Old?

2005-07-22T15:17:00.000-07:00

Another very good question from my friend Tommy:

"How can you find out if the great and wonderful idea that came to you the night before while showering is in fact and original idea and wasn't made ten years ago as a direct to video project? How can you find out if the idea isn't already being developed or made at a studio? Does it matter?" - Tommy

Well, yes and no. This is really the nightmare of the contemporary artist. You've come up with a brilliant idea (this happens to my friend Tommy a lot, by the way) and then discover it's literally in development at a studio, or in casting, or being filmed. So even though it landed in your lap in a fit of inspiration, it seems like it's totally useless.

Total drag.

So here's the answer. You can't worry about it. It's impossible to live as a creative spirit and constantly work from the outside in. You have to work from the inside out. (Even when you are handed an assignment with a strict set of rules to follow. More on that another time).

Point of it is: every year there are probably four of the same films being developed at every studio. And I mean, the same film. This is the nature of the business, massive companies trying to thread the eye of the needle in what they hope will be their commercial blockbuster. And their eye of the needle is just that - it's quite narrow creatively. So that means - a superhero movie, a cop movie, a killer thriller, a broad teen age comedy, a romance. They're going to develop about four of each of these to try and get one that doesn't suck, so they can pump more money into it than is in most third world countries.

And there you are, inspired, pulling down brilliance from the heavens and onto the page and some genius tells you - forget it, they've got one just like yours in development at Sony. So you stop, and broken hearted decide to open a donut shop.

The truth of it is. 90% of what's in development won't make it to the screen, but is actively being written. Agents will be quick to tell you to put the kabosh on something as they've heard it's elsewhere. But you have to say screw it - and not listen to what anyone tells you. You follow your muse, and write the best version of what moves you. Because in the end - what jumps off the page is what generates excitement, and if you can do that, they just might buy your script after the three like it in development have failed.

Now - huge caveat. I wrote a spec. script a year and a half ago, one that I loved - and that a great reaction from producers around town. Cruise/Wagner took it to Paramount to Buy, Radar took it to Universal to buy, I had producers at Sony who wanted it. I had a great reaction from agents and had interest from several and was able to move to a new agency with terrific people who I'm extremely happy with. This is the kind of reaction you hope for. And then not one studio bought it. Why? Because every studio had something like it. So what the hell do I know?

Upside - it generated a great response, created new relationships, and it's still a piece of gold on the shelf. One never knows the exact purpose of each piece of writing. You hope they all sell, but in the end, each one is part of the larger picture of your life, and the only way to have peace of mind is to trust that each one is doing what it should.

Complications Ensue

2005-07-21T14:44:00.000-07:00

This is not just the clever title of a blog by Alex Epstein who wrote the how-to writing book Crafty Screenwriting, it's also what happens every time anyone creative gets involved with a movie deal.

And it's just happened to me.

For those of you who've been reading, you're aware I'm up for a production re-write, a major motion picture, good budget, excellent production company (they won an academy award last year), and the director wants me for the job.

Pretty good, right? You might say, things couldn't be better, stars couldn't be better aligned for a job, and so forth. And I had a very good creative meeting with them last week as well.

Except they read one of my new scripts over the weekend and didn't like the woman character in it. So now they're not sure I can write a "woman". It's a woman lead in the film, by the way, and they just got burned on the last writer. He originally wrote a leading man, they asked it be changed to a woman for the next draft - and the writing team did, but they basically changed the character description, but didn't change the character. So the producers are a little skittish over there about that happening again, I guess.

You know, this is the part they don't teach you in film school, and thank God. Film making is so hard to begin with - who would want to imagine how hard it is just to get into that small group that actually gets to do any film making?

Well, my agents just sent over a different script. In the end the script is king - and they have to be moved when they read your material. But enthusiasm and passion play an important role - I was full of that in the meeting, and they loved it, it won that day. And I just filled my agent with it, and now my agent is blasting it their way.

And soon, we'll see where it all falls. I'm on the weekend read.

Workshop is a Go

2005-07-20T16:50:00.000-07:00

Okay, let's do this. I've had some very nice feedback from a few of you that you would be interested in sitting with me and listening what I have to say about screenwriting. Believe it or not, I'm interested in what you have to say, too. So I'm thinking a few hours, at a cafe, and it's free.

We'll do it in my neck of the woods, upstairs in quiet room of a cafe I know, a week from this Saturday.

Saturday July 30th,
12-3pm
Buster's Cafe
(Okay the technical name is Buster's Coffee and Ice Cream Shop)
1006 MISSION STREET, SOUTH PASADENA, CA 91030
Phone: (626) 441-0744

You can mapquest it pretty easily.

For those of you who can make it and come out my way, I look forward to sitting down together!

ADDED NOTE: One caveat; this will be a discussion between us on theory and concepts, with lots of questions and answers. But I'm afraid I will be unable to read or promise to read any material as I just don't have the time. Thanks for understanding!

Phil.

If A Pitch Goes South, Do You Try To Save the Meeting?

2005-07-17T21:45:00.000-07:00

This is a very good question from Moviequill, and as we had this dialogue in the comments section a few posts back, I reprint it here for others who may have missed the comments.

in one of the many tips that ended up my way, I heard if it looks like the pitch is going downhill, try to salvage the meeting by finagling yourself into a re-write job on some stalled script they have on file...do you find that is the case? they are willing to keep you around even if the project you came to them for falls through? - Moviequill.

Good question, Moviequill, but no - that's not the case. All you can do is to bring 120% commitment to your take, your creative enthusiasm, and your genuine insight into the project - and that will either win the day, or not - based on countless variables of which you know only a few. Have they heard something like your take before? Are there political issues with this exec. behind the scenes that make them more/less in favor? Do the execs love this project, but the pres. hates it? (that's happened to me).

You could go crazy trying to figure it all out. I"m guessing that was non-professional advice you heard. I've been specifically told by my agents not to de-rail and try to jump tracks onto a new idea. It looks like you're desperate, and it takes away from you in the end. Now, having said that, if you're in the room - and the exec. says - "hey, forget that, you might be the guy for - this - and it's a new thing, go for it. It's coming from their side and follow that energy. And, on another meeting, I went in for a re-write chat, but we took off on a whole other thing which would have been an original adaptation of a sci-fi book. But as that conversation wound down, the exec. realized it wouldn't work, and so we went back to what the meeting had been about. So in those situations, you ride the energy.

In this town, everyone on the money side has one emotion: FEAR. Afraid they can't fix the script, afraid they'll be fired if they hire the wrong person, fear that the movie will "go away" if the next draft is awful, on and on - so your job is to come in clear, grounded and with answers. Jeez, this is turning into a long answer and I have more to say. For example - in my meeting yesterday, for this production re-write, I went in saying - cut this character, I want this other guy to now be a woman, and she has a child, and they move in with the leading lady...blah blah.. and she is crippled psychologically and has panic attacks (she's a cop and was fine in the other draft) and all this new stuff is coming at them and they're saying - 'you're sure?" And I'm saying - this is how I want to do it, this is how it has to be, don't you see? Now, they're thinking it over this weekend. They may say - screw him - or yeah! But in the end, I went in crystal clear, and confident in the way I saw it - that's how you write, and how you pitch in this town. Period. Because at the end of the day you have to know you did your best job, and the rest will fall where it may. Phew.

Heard Good Feedback

2005-07-17T21:42:00.000-07:00

Well, apparently I was a big hit at the producer's meeting on Friday. They're reading me this weekend to "make sure I don't write like an idiot", as my director said. Otherwise, I came across as everything he promised. Tomorrow will reveal all.

On "The Meeting"

2005-07-15T17:16:00.000-07:00

Meetings in Hollywood tend to be oddly inscrutable. Something for the beginning writer to be aware of, and the veteran writer to endlessly put up with.

I blasted out my passionate ideas with genuine enthusiasm. They sat back, nodding, thinking, frowning. You all laugh, you all agree or disagree on smaller points. After an hour or less the meeting ends, and they say thanks for coming by. And you say, sure. And you also think - um, did I leave something out? Why didn't they jump up and down and acknowledge my unique creativity?

In this case it was with the Chairman of a company (Academy Aware winner) and his excellent producing partner. But it's the same all the way down the ladder. And the farther down you start, the farther up you have to come with the same meeting and new people.

Ah well. If you want instant feedback do stand up comedy.

Anyway, that's it. You go home and then you wait for them to call your agent and find out what they really thought.

That's how the system works. They'll rarely say "no" to you in the room, and rarely say "yes" as well. They don't want to harm a relationship with a turn down, and they don't want to harm a negotiation with thumbs up. Plus, in this era of a financially more careful Hollywood, every money decision seems to be made with double and triple checks.

So, now I wait.

The Fix

2005-07-13T22:40:00.000-07:00

Part of the job of the screenwriter on assignment, whether it be the re-write, the adaptation, or the production re-write, is THE FIX.

In terms of the adaptation, it's pulling out the essence of the original, while making it screen worthy. This usually implies a different version of the story with possibly different characters than the original, yet at the same time completely independent and alive.

The re-write is usually addressing specific concerns of the studio/producers because something just isn't right about the current draft. It was good enough to sell, or even get to pre-production, but the feeling is it's somehow lacking and what can you do to fix it?

The production re-write addresses these concerns as well, but in an extremely condensed time frame - like time from the pitch of your "fix" to your completed draft that everyone is expecting to be the GO script, needs to be three to four weeks.

That's why all the books on writing, teachers of writing and working writers you run into will tell you the same thing. That writing, in the end, comes down to one thing. Writing. Sit in your room and write, every day. Build that muscle. So that when you need it, you don't have to be the skinny kid in the gym required to lift the 300 pound barbell and you won't be able to. You want to be the guy in great shape who doesn't have to worry if he CAN lift, he knows he can lift it, so his only concern will by the type of lifts and how many sets of repetitions.

You must create a mechanism within yourself that is used to writing, is in flow with writing and has stamina for writing so that you don't really have to THINK about the writing. You can then get out of the way and let the writing happen to you. Sure you may have to sit at your desk and slog away for six hours, but that seventh hour may deliver to you the grace you were waiting for and true inspiration channels through.

That's when you can place yourself in your story, be your characters and let them flow through you. That is how you bring inspiration to the page with no time available, how you bring light into the darkness when it seems like there is no time. Because you have opened within you a timeless space.

The Train Is Leaving The Station

2005-07-12T21:07:00.000-07:00

The energy around a production re-write is very frenetic and exciting. Since my last post about my friend's call, (yesterday) my reps have chatted with the movie producers, fees have been discussed and my "money meeting" has been scheduled for this week, the one where they hire me in the room if they like what I have to say. And tonight I meet with the director to get his notes.

It is very much like a train leaving a station and it pretty much sweeps up you and whisks you off and everything else going on in your life comes to a halt.

Great for adrenalin junkies and stress freaks, the production re-write is a great test of talent and the spirit as well. As a teacher of mine once said, when you're in the white water, all you can do is paddle. Meaning, don't think too much, don't complain (you're going to complain to the rapids that they're going to fast?), and focus on your work. It's good advice.

And in the midst of all that hurry, all that demand and rush to judgement, you have to find the stillness inside you where your talent dances, and your peace of mind that keeps you true to your own inner voice about what's right for the script.

It's a great test, and a great ride.

One of Those Nice Calls

2005-07-11T23:16:00.000-07:00

Got a call from a friend the other tonight, he just signed on to direct a feature, they want to be in production in the fall. Script needs work, he wants me to do the production re-write. He emailed me the script two days ago, and I'm meeting producer and head of production company with the director end of week to discuss my take and potential hire. Love that.

Don't know how frequently that happens to other working writers out there. For me, that kind of call from a friend in the driver's seat, is unusual and awesome. Sometimes the studio recommends you, says you're the go-to guy, and you meet and greet the director and producer to see how it feels, but they may not like your take, or your price. Sometimes you get a script, come up with a take, meet on the take, be one of several writers, and wait to see which way the tree falls. Sometimes you chase a job, it's a studio idea, you develop a take, maybe again you're one of several, and you pitch, and again you wait and...the head of the studio and half the exec. change jobs that week, and the project is scrapped and ...you see what I mean.

Point is, it's rarely easy.

Makes me think on how there are three tiers of professional screenwriting.

1) production re-write work, very intense, very fast, film is going into production and the script needs work, original writer falls out of favor, deals made quickly with new wrier, work required very quickly.

2) Standard re-write, adaptation, or original concept writing. Multiple meetings, multiple pitches, adjustments, notes on pitches, this can all take weeks and months until you get into the meeting that could close the deal. Then if you make the sale a long drawn out writing period begins which always starts sweetly because you're all alone and haven't handed anything in yet, and then it's the development mill for months and months, and potentially years (I've done that on one Paramount project. Watched a senior exec's kids grow up).

3) The third is the spec. script, your timetable, but still a damn lot of work to nail it and make it right, just no one is watching you, so you'd better be damn well disciplined. And stop talking so much about it and just do it. All that talking dissipates energy.

Point is, it's often a lot of work just to get the work. And so often it takes a great deal of time.

So to get this call, well this is particularly sweet.

This is Just Weird

2005-07-11T00:16:00.000-07:00

Called friends today for an impromptu dinner. They have a daughter our age, we've know them for years, from pre-school, thought we'd have some pizza. Feature writers, they last year had great success with a TV pilot and are now show-running a top ten show and about to enter their second season. It's really a great success for great people.

So here's the weird part. I get the guy on the phone, he says sure - unless a previous engagement happens, an actor on their show may come to dinner with them, and as they start pre-production next week they would want that if it happened. Cool, no problem, so we're plan B. Then his wife/partner calls an hour later to say sorry they can't do dinner tonight, but really want to get together, and that when her daughter heard my voice on the machine she said her daughter really said she wanted to come over for dinner and see my daughter too!

Machine? Heard what machine?

The point of the story is not to make fun of my friend, but to ask what the hell does this town do to us? She was in some kind of producer mode, handling me - care taking me, whatever - putting out a fire she imagined I was, because it's become some pre-set mode to operate from. She got a cryptic message from her husband about my call - didn't realize that I actually SPOKE to him, she thought it was a message. So she wanted to make me feel good, while saying no.

What was weird for me, was that if I pointed out how big a lie she was telling, it would make ME appear rude. So I just said...uh...sure!

What do you all think out there about this? Harmless? Or endemic of a larger problem of knee-jerk falsehoods that could make one woefully paranoid if they thought about it too long?

Don't get me wrong, sometimes to play the "game" out here correctly, you need to be selective with the truth. It's the nature of the game. Okay, that being said - this was dinner. Pizza.

It was just so...weird.

Do You Need To Live Here?

2005-07-10T20:49:00.000-07:00

In a recent post, a reader asked some very good questions. Let's tackle a few.

Is it necessary to live in LA in order to be taken seriously as a new writer? Do you have to have an agent? If not - how do you get the right people to read your work?
- Tommy.

Okay, first of all, I know the guy. He's one of my best friends from high school. But it's still a great question. The answer is easy. No, and No. and Yes and Yes.

A writer doesn't have to be in the basement of Paramount to write a screenplay. They can be anywhere, that's the beauty of it. Write your beautiful piece of work at home, on the road, on a plane, on a train, anywhere Doctor Suess has written about. Once you have a good finished piece of work, you can do something with it. If you can't complete a script outside of Hollywood, what makes you think you'll complete it within the city line? I have a friend who says that's the greatest challenge to any writer. Finishing. He's Right.

Now, there are great advantages to being here. Not just the new address on the mailbox, which is cool, but a very large group of people doing the same thing you are doing. That's a lot of access to ideas, experience and support. But in the end, without a script, what are you doing wasting your time chatting about scene length in a cafe?

The agent. Very important. When I wrote my first few scripts I had no rep. Who's going to rep. you without a script? So you have to start writing without one, and make that your calling card. But once you complete something, you have the thing that turns them on. And if it's good, all you have to do is bang your head against a lot of doors and someone will eventually read it. If you're lucky, they'll recognize your god given gift and sign you. If not, they may "hip pocket" you, which means rep you on just that script, and if things go well - maybe continue with you. But at least that means you're in the door - because in the end, the script is king. And your life will be a lot easier if you have an Agent who is jacked into the industry network who will try to sell it for you, or send you scripts on open writing assignments, or set up meetings to discuss open writing assignments/pitch said re-writes, etc.

And if you're script isn't King - write another. Because if you're a writer, that's what you do.

Then, when you get the attention you deserve, you will probably decide to move here.

because Hollywood is a social town, more than that, it's like an old fashioned mediaeval town in one sense - if you're not within the city walls, it's like you don't exist. Not that execs and writers are hanging out with us at bars all the time. They're not. And it's not like cell phones, PDA's and blackberry's haven't made connecting easier. They have. But waltzing into offices, taking meetings, doing drinks, lunch, taking conference calls who's start times get changed three times in the course of a week, or a day, producers and directors knowing you're "in town" (which means you're available). all has significant psychological impact on the way you're perceived. Maybe it has something to do with the math associated with different time zones, and certain minds not being able to do it. But if you're not in town, unless you're on the A-list, it's pretty much like you're off the planet.

Now maybe you just want to write spec. scripts and mail them in from an undisclosed location. That, actually, would be fine. If you want to engage in the more loony world of writing original pieces for the studios, or re-writing them, you need to be here.

So moving here, to get famous enough within the industry, so that you don't have to live here, is one of the odd things associated with the craft.

When Do You Stop Writing?

2005-07-09T22:48:00.000-07:00

Okay, this may sound like a joke, but it's just as important as the earlier post of "How Do You Start?" Because as writers will tell you, the work never stops, the story is never finished, your work hours come to an end, but your mind is still in gear, as the rest of the work ahead hangs over you. This isn't a job where you punch a clock and walk out of the factory, or put your sales files away because the business day has ended and you can't cold call anyone anymore.

Writers take their work home, probably because they work at home, but even if they don't - most importantly because there is no clear end to the work day, and the work isn't in your desk, it's in your head.

Sure it's fun to talk story all the time, think of great ideas in unexpected moments, that's the way of life of the artist. Your pilot light is always on, and should be, it's why you're doing what you're doing.

But I've seen, and experienced myself, the guilt mind that winds up restricting life because you're punishing, demanding, insisting and rigidly holding onto the "work" and can't let go enough to allow yourself rewards, time off, nourishment for the soul, until you finish the script, finish those pages, etc. Now - if you're on deadline and this is a matter of weeks, that's fine. You need to hunker down. But as weeks stretch into months, and months into years (no joke) if this is a way of life for you, this is not healthy.

So here's some advice. Figure out a page count system, hit your pages then stop for the day. And make it something realistic. 5 when you start. 10 when you're in a good rhythm. Not 25, okay? Or create a macro schedule and feel like you want to hit a weekly count, or it page counts freak you out, you do it with time and put in hours a day - 8 a day if you can stand it - most can't - so start with 4 or 6. And when you hit the end of your time, come to a stopping place (like I'll tell my nine year old when she's reading) and then switch off the computer. And really enjoy your dinner and a movie. This is really important advice, okay?

Because as any athlete will tell you, you don't train the same muscle all day every day. You'll exhaust it, weaken it, and then damage it. Same with writing mind. You need to work it hard in the gym, and then take it to the shower, give it a massage, and a good night's sleep.

It's the only way to stay fresh and come back with Olympic strength for what is surely the decathlon.

I'm still working on this one, by the way, but I'm a lot better than I used to be.

Meeting at Paramount

2005-07-08T14:11:00.000-07:00

Studio meetings are a way of life, and the many executives you meet over the course of a job, or the course of getting the next job, is quite numerous. Yesterday I met with a guy I first met when he was the youngest member of this Paramount company's creative team, a CE (creative executive) lowest on the ladder, assigned with the impossible task of taking down notes during writers' pitch meetings and then writing those up a in a coherent presentation for the in-house creative "team". That was in 1999. Now he's an exec. here with his own assistant, in charge of his own CE. Nice to see that, the system actually working as opposed to chewing them up and throwing them out, which the system also does.

As for the meeting, I was pitching my film adaptation "take" of a comic book bought by Paramount for this company, implying the wonderful possibility that the studio was already behind it, as they committed more than 4 cents in option money. This used to not be earth shattering news, nevertheless, in this current cold climate of film development, any thread, any glimmering light, any port in a storm. So they were particularly excited that the studio was behind it already.

As for my pitch - which went on for over an hour - I had to field the unexpected task of dealing with this executive's notes, as the pitch was happening. Now, for those of you who don't know, questions or adjustments are not unusual after your pitch, and very occasionally during. But this is a very development oriented group, (I've written two scripts for them I know) and they are very comprehensive with their note writing. This "note writing mind" has now unfortunately trickled down into the meeting where the notes are presented to the writer as the pitch is happening.

Can you imagine?

I'm pitching the story, the characters, the relationships, and suddenly have to field - what if he's "older/young?" "what if his father is actually not around?" "What if his friend has a completely new family not currently in your pitch and how would that play out? What if the bad guy had a different motive? Maybe the bad guy should appear earlier/later and how would that play out?" pause...waiting for my response... And as any good story teller will tell you, boy does this do wonders for the momentum and building excitement of your pitch.

Yikes.

As my head was spinning I calmly advised him hold those notes until I had least presented my whole story. He saw the wisdom of that and agreed, until two minutes later when he gave me a note on changing the major set piece of act 2, and changing the location of the ending and how would that play out? - pause - waiting for me to answer.

Well, I did answer, and played out the ideas of his notes, and we talked more, then had to re-summarize the whole movie in beats for the poor new assistant who was taking notes - and said that his "eyes were burning" by the end of our meeting. That's okay, my frontal lobe was burning.

After we finished the whole thing, and all shook hands and I left, I wanted to go stick my head in a bucket of cold water.

Will they move forward with my take? Do they like it? Who the hell knows? What did I say? And what did it become? I can't wait to get the notes from this meeting and find out what the hell my take is.

And of course they won't tell me if they don't like it, they'll tell my agent. Well, in all honesty, they will tell me as they're pretty cool. Most won't, however, so get ready for that if you haven't experienced it yet. Hollywood is a sunnytime town, all friendly and nice when things are happy and they're happy with you, and rather quiet when things are not in your favor. Don't take it personally. It's just business, as any experienced Mafia figure will tell you.

The Big Idea

2005-07-07T21:40:00.000-07:00

What is that? The "Big Idea?" I think it's really important. It's the idea within your story that gives you real glee. The one that is going to be the generator of excitement that pushes a wave of energy through your whole script. And for the professional writer, it could be the idea, or "take" that makes the sale. It doesn't have to be complicated. In fact, that would be bad. But it does have to be all encompassing of the story.

These ideas are crucial not just for original story telling, but for adaptations or re-inventions. I think Spielberg's big idea in War of the Worlds was a 9/11 emotional tone: aliens are terrorists who want to kill you. He even captured the look in those initial attacks, stunned people filling the streets, covered with white ash and looking up. Amazingly powerful.

So how do you get the big idea? How do you identify it?

It will feel good.
It will be unexpected.
The statement of the idea will have energy.
It will indicate an entire story.
It will NOT have structure.
It's just - an idea - remember? Keep it simple.
But it should be as radiant as a little sun to YOU.

I'll give you an example of a big idea.

A genius is a schizoprhrenic. His intellect endlessly at war with his interpretation of his world.

Wow - that's so perfect, you know? That was enough to excite that screenwriter (Akiva Goldsman) every day. That's all I'm talking about.

Start writing.

Writing for Fun and Profit

2005-07-07T00:18:00.000-07:00

One of my readers emailed me:

I'm curious to know if you still make time to
write for fun, or if it's all business related now?
thanks,
Keith

Write for fun? Good question Keith. Because to be successful, you have to make your work fun where ever you find yourself. The spec script answer is self evident; sure it is, otherwise why do it? The trick is - how to find the fun in an assignment? Work is work, writing is extremely difficult, it's not as easy as any non-writer thinks it is. Even when you're writing the script for fun - you've got to work your ass off to make it beautiful. So - the answer is a bit of a Chinese box. You do your work, and inside you always try to find the fun.

And I think the fun is apparent in an email a friend of mine just sent me: "I'm going to read my script now, and try not to commit suicide." This from a guy who really knows what he's doing. He's won an acadamy award. Are we having fun yet?

Now start writing. Or, maybe run for the hills.

So I'm in the Paper

2005-07-06T11:35:00.000-07:00

Made the LA Times today, in a well written and comprehensive piece on the history of the FANTASTIC FOUR (see two posts down). It explains the ins and outs of the development story, the writers involved, and the long road to the screen. My mention is less than a blurb, but in good company with a great list of writers who all threw their hats in the ring.

Dinner and Inspiration from a good Friend

2005-07-06T01:21:00.000-07:00

Had dinner with a friend tonight, a guy who works at a very high level, the exec. producer/director of a top ten crime show last year, currently signed to a feature deal to direct, while keeping his hand in directing other hour dramas. And he can also walk and chew gum at the same time.

He had some particularly inspirational moments at dinner with me, and as I'm usually the one being inspirational, it meant a great deal to me to have that energy directed at me on this occasion. I pass on his advice and thoughts, as it pertains to every one of you out there who wants a career in this town, and wants to keep a career in this town.

His thoughts are simple, but that's why they're important. And they're not just for beginners, but for the vets who've been at it over ten years who begin to double think themselves, or get clouded by the white noise of feedback from agents, managers and lawyers:

1) Write original material, keep control and ownership.
2) Stop trying to get the re-write job and please everyone in the room, write your own work.
3) Don't look to others for validation. You are enough. They are lucky to be working with you.
4) Forget trying to win positive feedback from your agent/manager/lawyer.
5) Stop trying to please your wife, your significant other, your partner, or your friends.
6) Be ready to give it all up and go live in a motel if you're not doing what you want to, so you can do what you want to.

Sound harsh? It is. Sound freeing? It should. He's not saying don't pass up work. He's saying put your energy into defining your work at the highest level, and you will get the highest level of return. He has directed/produced tv and film. He said he knows how much power and control the writer really has, because he's had to deal with scripts so much. And the most power comes from the original script. The script with the original voice, the writing that's not diluted by the endless advice and warnings of your representation and family members.

Believe me, it seeps in. Stay true to your idea, your vision, stay pure.

It's really really good advice.

And I'm going to take it, as I believed I've slacked off here on a few of his points.

Now start writing.

F4 - The Few, The Proud, The Uncredited

2005-07-05T16:24:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm one of the uncredited writers on FANTASTIC FOUR. There are quite a bunch of us, actually, almost enough to form our own political party. I threw my hat into the ring when it was still a relatively new project at 1492, (that's not year I wrote my draft in, by the way, though it feels like it, that's Chris Columbus' production company at Fox), and I was only the third writer. There have been ELEVEN of us all told since then. Yes, count them. And I did my part back in 1998. So, do the math. It demonstrates just how long it takes Hollywood to ruin a really good idea. Sadly they didn't keep much of what I came up with, which is a shame. Though I'm assuming there must be about ten of us who feel that way. Thus, you won't be seeing my name on the film.

From the advance word I can't say I feel terrible that my name's not on it. On the other hand, any writer with two kids will tell you he'd be happy to have his name on any franchise-potential that has not one, but four super heros. Even a failure at this level must generate some family-car-trip money, don't you think? But if it's a stinker, maybe I lucked out and have kept my monicker more pure.

I include the list of writers here, in the order they wrote, for your appreciation at just how Hollywood can deconstruct the auteur theory:

Fantastic Four written by (at one time or another):

Michael France
Chris Columbus
Philip Morton
Sam Hamm
Douglas Petrie
Tristan Patterso
Mark Frost
Zak Penn
Michael Dougherty & Dan Harris
Simon Kinberg

Phew.

I believe the first and the last are getting credit, and I assume that's fair. Even though Writers' Guild credit arbitration may feel like a gypsy seance to some, I've had friends who've done it (on The Sum of All Fears) and were handed a stack of scripts, some phone book sized, by a group of authors, and these guys read them all and voted with fairness and best intent on content. It made me realize how seriously we would all take the job if called up to do so, or might decide to get a PhD instead because it would be less work. Even so, so I trust the process).