Location, location, location

Most new writers set their script in their hometown or someplace that they know very well. Nothing wrong with that. Exactly. But is that the best setting for the story? How do you decide where you story should take place? Is there a set of criteria? Places to avoid?

There is no definitive answer to the question of location. But I do know this; exotic or multiple locations are expensive. If you’re writing a romcom and have decided to set it in Ghana, I’ll save you a lot of painful rejection and tell you now that isn’t a good idea. Why? Because nobody is going to shoot a romantic comedy in Ghana – not unless the Universal backlot will suffice or you are a very well known and established screenwriter. Even then, it’s a long shot.

The question to ask yourself, as in the case above is – why? Is the African setting absolutely intrinsic to the story? Well, if you are writing THE CONSTANT GARDNER the answer would have to be yes. Maybe you have a passion project about Bosnia or Istanbul or the Arctic Circle. Then by all means set your story there. But do be aware that an exotic location will make some producers think twice.

When thinking over location, first think of the genre of the script. Is it at crime thriller? Most writers would then opt for a Manhattan, Philadelphia or Chicago setting. Sharp, steely, urban, gritty backdrops might suit a crime thriller well. On the other hand, nothing says foreboding like a small, quiet town in Kansas. Think about the mood you want to establish, the ancillary characters and the set pieces that the environment might suggest. Will that cactus patch make a great chase scene? How about some wooing under the elms? Big, old barns are a great place for a hatchet murder.

Don’t take the easy way and say, well, I’m from Omaha so this story should be set in Omaha. Don’t take the slingshot approach and think well, I’m from Poughkeepsie so I’m going to set this in Uruguay!

The setting should serve or even suggest story. Setting aside the truthful basis to BOYS DON’T CRY, what might that movie have been like if it has been set in Florida? Quite a bit different. How did Los Angeles become a character in and of itself in COLLATERAL? This sleek, oddly desolate-at-night city was perfect for the movie both tonally and from a plot perspective. How about the quirky logging town featured in TWIN PEAKS? Somehow that television show wouldn’t have been the same had it been set in Arizona.

So be aware of some pitfalls and limitations when choosing the backdrop for your story: exotic, far-flung locations make for difficult, costly shoots. As a writer trying to break in, think long and hard about making a choice like this; it could put producers off your project before you even get your foot in the door.

Don’t choose a location you know zero about. If you really feel compelled to write a drama set in Boston but you live in Tempe, do your research. Buy a map. Get to know Boston in any way you can. Take advantage of the topography and culture of Beantown.

Avoid the temptation to set your story in any-town USA just because you figure it will be easier. Place is everything: Memphis has a distinct, sluggish, Southern, Bluegrass feel that cannot be found in quite the same way anywhere else. Los Angeles, San Francisco, Atlanta, a small town in North Dakota – choose someplace that has something to offer your story; weather, topography, local culture and traditions will all make an impact. Don’t take the boring way out but don’t overreach either. Ask yourself, could this story be told anywhere else? If the answer is YES then I’d rethink the story or your use of the place in question. Maximize location for the oh-so-important specificity necessary to differentiate your script from the third one down, two stacks over.

Reading – whether it is a novel or a script – really is armchair travel. Take your reader on a journey and don’t forget to take the scenic route. Show us the trees, the locusts, the weather and waves. Show us the brilliant sunset, the smog and the jungle - asphalt or otherwise.

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Coverage Language: a Brief History

Readers write coverages in a strange, pseudo industry speak which sometimes sounds purposefully vague. That’s because it is. We are covering our asses. Incidentally, the biggest ass cover a reader can hide behind is “consider with reservation” which means – Um, I dunno. Not bad but not great and oh geez, the pressure!

Remember, it is considered bad form for a reader to really trash your script. We have to be polite. There are potential minefields a reader must step around, most notably; the writer could be the executive’s wife, friend or second cousin. I have had this experience. I didn’t trash the script (see bad form, above) but I nor did I mince words. I returned the script to the executive. This should have clued me in because we usually just throw the script away. Sitting in his office was his wife. Oh! This is the reader that covered your script honey! I turned, oh what is the expression – a whiter shade of pale. I felt so ambushed. Why didn’t he tell me?? Because the exec wanted an honest coverage. Had I been in a stupid or cranky mood and not been aware of the Readers Do No Harm oath, I would have been fired for having written a slightly snarling coverage – the script was that bad.

It sometimes feels as if we readers say the same things over and over and over. Because we do. Though the permutations of stories can be almost infinite, the problems within them are actually relatively finite. And so we use a proscribed vocabulary to lightly but firmly tell an exec just why this script is a “pass”. The words we use are written in a polite code. A code which you may also recognize, in a couple of instances, from bank loan officers or doctors....

Here is a key to what a reader says and what a reader really means in a “pass” coverage.

Unfortunately…
You’re sunk.

However…
You’re flailing.

Soft premise
Boring script.

Two dimensional characters
The characters sucked unbelievably.

Not enough conflict; linear narrative, missing stakes
I fell asleep during the read and woke up with a notepad stuck to my face.

Action lines need work
Holy crap, how did this writer get the script here? Seriously we need a better filtering system.

Faulty logic
Okay I know I’m tired but I had my Wheaties and the script didn’t freaking make sense!

Poor Structure
Three cups of coffee and I see no freaking plot points. I am having reader rage!

Now, you will never see your own coverage, that’s the rub. The exec will simply read the first paragraph summary to your agent over the phone. And your agent will say to you simply: It wasn’t for them. Or maybe something like, they thought the ending was too predictable.

This is why, if you can, it is a great experience to get a coverage of your script from a consultant or script reading service – just to check out what would be said about your script in Reader-ese. Yes, readers are subjective but until the Reader 5000 is fully developed by scientists working round the clock, you’re stuck with us.

Let me once more dispel the subjectivity fear (or rationale as the case may be) that writers assign to the coverage process. We do this every day. We have nothing against you, in fact we get really excited when your script is fantastic because you make our day. We learn very quickly to set aside our personal likes and dislikes, roll up our sleeves and examine your script from a mechanical perspective. We will not trash you – even if we really hate your script. It will only get us fired or otherwise in the hot seat. We always start off by trying to say one good thing. It might be “A script with a very inventive take on an amphibian democracy on Pluto unfortunately has some issues with character, structure, premise and logic.” Note the “inventive take”. Sometimes that’s all we can pull out of the hat. I have at times stared at my blank computer screen trying heroically to come up with that one good thing.

We don’t want to write our coverages in non-committal Reader-ese, but we are trained to and in the end it does facilitate our jobs. The key above is chiefly meant to entertain but ironically, my definitions are pretty accurate.

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Academy Award Dreams

The Academy Awards provoke a rush of feelings: nostalgia, tradition and boredom. And for some - cynicism. It’s rigged! The Academy voters just don’t get it – they’re old and out of touch! We come for the glamour, we stay for the gaffes, wardrobe malfunctions and overlong thank-fests. Let’s face it; the Academy Awards is the Superbowl for entertainment junkies.

Even those of you who claim you don’t care – you’ll be watching. Oh – you will. And even if you don’t – we’ll make you watch. The show, everyone on it and what they wore – or didn’t wear – will be on every media outlet for a week until the war in Iraq is nothing but a faint memory. You gotta love America. Land of the mostly free, home of the easily distracted.

For many of us, what we don’t tell our friends as we pass the chips and guac is that scintillating thought deep down inside: Will that be me one day? Up on the stage? Best original screenplay or Best Picture – could I? What would I wear? Who would I thank? Don’t lie; we’ve all made our Oscar speeches, factoring in the time limit, the Hilary-gaffe and that stupid, rude orchestra. Should we thank our parents? Our spouses? Our best friends, manager, agent and inspirations? What would we say?

Then the fantasy freezes in a stop-frame. Do I even have the talent to be at that hallowed point? Will I ever walk that red carpet? We look down and notice the glob of guac on our tee-shirt.

How do you know if you have talent? Ever? My first inkling, in my tiny but growing little sense of self came in the 4th grade when my teacher, Mr. White, with long hippy hair and Birkenstocks told me that my poem, entitled simply but elegantly – The Butterfly – was “really cool, man.” Oh – the heights I reached that day as I rode the bus home!

What is talent, exactly? The ability to write the perfect script automatically? Without the due-paying, classes, failures and frustrations? I don’t believe that exists. I think writing talent is simply a predilection to write with the application of time and effort. It isn’t born intact, it is developed potential. The desire to write + ambition + hard work = talent.

Talent must be nurtured and cultivated. Maybe your talent lies in writing poetry or essays. Maybe there’s nothing you don’t love to write and maybe there’s nothing you can’t write well. I don’t know. But I do know this; talent is ineffable, it is usually cloaked in a sheer, idiotic drive to write no matter what, and like a chunk of marble, it reveals itself slowly, over time, as you sculpt it into shape.

If you have written a crappy script, take a number. We all have. And you may write more – it happens. But keep your eye on the prize. Aim high. Yes and write that Oscar speech now; visualize total world domination with your creative gifts being beamed all over the world to countries with names you cannot pronounce. Why not? It might just happen. And if we don’t think it can, if we don’t think we have that in us – then I ask – what are we doing?

Enjoy the Academy Awards, Rouge Wave readers, and here’s to keeping our dreams alive and making them real. Now get back to work.

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Rewriting

So you’ve gotten some notes and you have to rewrite your script. Your stomach drops, confusion sets in and the thought of where to begin brings about a generalized sense of morbid anxiety only rivaled by the Sadie Hawkins dance in 1978.

You’ve had six sets of notes and know something has to change – but what? Ask yourself: is this a page one rewrite? That’s industry parlance for wow you have a lot of work to do. Or do you simply need to get in there and do some surgery? Which one is it – chainsaw or scalpel?

First, seriously, take a week or two off from thinking about the script. If you have the luxury – do it. Ruminate on the rewrite, gain some distance, do something else. Then, come up with a Rewrite Plan.

What is a rewrite plan? Well, gather your notes all in one place and categorize them:

Soft, unoriginal or confusing premise
Faulty main character arc
Missing or lame antagonist
Not enough conflict; linear narrative
Missing stakes
No ticking clock
Action lines need work
Logic or world issues
Missing theme
Scenes are too long
Structure in trouble

…and so forth. Now, if you have that kind of all-encompassing list – you are looking at a page one rewrite. Do not waver; writing is not for the faint of heart. Put on your Saint George coat of armor, unsheathe that sword and prepare to kill your darlings.

What most writers do is start to rewrite without a plan. That is to say, they change as they go. We’ve all done it. You make a change on page three and then you have to page forward to page sixteen, then page forty-six, page seventy-nine and again on - oops! – page twelve and nineteen too. The change(s) ripple forth in a wave of destruction. It is a living nightmare, impossible keep track of and what you will generally wind up with is a heap of sticks on the beach a thousand times worse than the draft pre-rewrite. Stop. List your notes. Make a plan. Focus and set goals.

If your biggest note was a soft, unoriginal or confusing premise, you have a big decision to make (cue the Clash): Should I stay or should I go? If most of the feedback you got was centered on that premise, and if you perceive that ever so nicely, your peers or friends are giving you the kindly hint that the script is really DOA – ask yourself this: how much passion do I have for this material? Was this perhaps an exercise? Or are you absolutely positive that this material is worth reviving?

If you don’t want to give up on the script then your premise is where you need to get out the chainsaw. If it’s not original – how can you dig deeper and make it so? Is there a new twist or way in to this story you hadn’t thought of before? Can you come up with a more conceitful main character with conflict and stakes attendant to that completely original, one-of-a-kind, eccentric personality? Perhaps the premise might be recast in a different genre; try swapping genres to see if the premise perks up. Maybe your main character is really your antagonist and vice versa. Walk or rewrite – which is it gonna be? If you are willing to do a page one write on a soft premise, then by all means go for it.

Say your premise is fine but some other elements are problematic. Start from the top of your priority list: don’t mess with action lines, scene descriptions and the like until you’ve worked out the larger problems. It’s up to you to decide in which order you will approach this rewrite but generally, I’d recommend starting with character. What is the note, exactly? Your character feels two-dimensional? If this note strikes a chord, then take a step back and do some character work on ol’ Felicity or Ferdinand. Write a backstory, answer some character questions, imagine the actor you’d like to see in the role. Now open your pages and add, delete or otherwise imbue your character what more dimension. Now when you do this, you will be tempted to write a whole new, hiliarious set piece! Don’t do it. Stay very focused.

This is not to say that if you are doing a rewrite pass on character work and you get sidetracked with a fantastic description of the forest through which Felicity is streaking that you can’t do it. Just remember to set focused goals for yourself.

Today I will:
Work out
Get jumbo latté
Kill time on internet, reading The Rouge Wave
Work on rewrite: Do character work on Felicity; first act only
Therapy
Make cocktail
Catch Oprah
Etc.

Don’t jump into the script, in other words, and go all Rambo on it. Your script will turn into a bombed out mess and you’ll find yourself with the worst imaginable problem: a whole new set of problems. Which you will hear about in your notes. A whole new set of notes. Like an Alaskan sled dog running the Iditarod, you will run out of notes, readers, friends and the will to live in short order. You will come to in a darkened igloo. Alone and afraid.

It pays to make a plan. Get notes from someone you really trust. Make a list of priorities for the rewrite. Stay focused, make a plan and above all, don’t throw out the baby with the bathwater. When you review scenes, before you hit that delete key ask yourself whether the scene might be better combined with another scene or whether it might work better in a different spot. Can two characters be combined to make one super character? Maybe your midpoint is really your page ten. Avoid the temptation to write or add new material, but rather pluck out of the ruins what is really working or has the potential to work. Truss up the foundation first, think about adding on that new den/family room later - if ever. Don’t slash and burn. Stay calm. Use what you have.

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Page Count Lipo

So you’ve read the Rouge Wave installment about page length. Idly, you flip to the back of your script – great Gatsby! – 139 pages! What has gone wrong? Sure, Miss Smarty-Pants Rouge Wave recommends keeping the page count down but it’s too late!

Readers, it is never too late. Here is a search and destroy check list guaranteed to trim that script down to a manageable page length.

Action lines: Is your script full of dense action lines? Remember, screenwriting is a bit like haiku; can you go through every page and reduce by half the action lines, distilling them down to only the juiciest, most evocative, most pithily descriptive words in all of humanity? Do try. It’s fun. And easy.

Scenes: This is a heartbreaking one; is every scene absolutely necessary? As I am wont to say, real estate in scripts is very, very expensive. Think of script pages as the Boardwalk of writing. Every inch is priceless. Review each scene and give it the scene test: Does it move the story forward? Does it reveal character? And ideally – does it do both? Can you jump into that scene late? Are you getting out early enough? Is there too much exposition? Are you telling us something you could show us? Here’s a little exercise I was taught in the UCLA Writer’s Program: Cut out the first and last line of dialogue in your scene. Don’t think. Just do it. Now revisit the scene. Did that just make it more powerful? Often, it can and it does improve the scene.

Act One Set Up: Is your inciting incident happening on page ten-ish? Or is there too much preamble in your set up? Remember the epidemic of ADD in Hollywood; if there is no giddy-up by page ten, Houston, you have a problem. Many writers mistakenly think that they need to take some time to set the scene and the characters up. False. You can set the story up and introduce character as you go along. This is not a story book in which we have the luxury of saying: This is Jane. Jane works at Starbucks. Work, Jane, work. Jane has a boyfriend, Dick. Dick likes coffee. Drink, Dick, drink. No. We can open on Jane in the Starbucks and stage right, enter Dick: Jane, I’m leaving you for a transvestite hooker who works at Peets. Run, Dick, run.

Belly-Crawling Over the Finish Line: Is your third act sluggish? Good question, Rouge Wave-inatrix, but if I knew, don’t you think I’d fix that? Now, don’t get cheeky. Third acts have, over time, grown shorter and shorter. In years past, the third act was about as long as the first act. No more. Really, after that second act pinch, or second plot point, or Dark Night of the Please-God-Let-This-Script-Be-Over-Soon, you really only have about fifteen to twenty pages to draw things to an exciting conclusion. Whoever said that scripts are like a rollercoaster was right; you have about ten pages at the top of the script to get that rollercoaster to the top of the hill and then whooooosh – the script moves faster and faster as it goes. By the time we reach the third act, we are experiencing G-force wind; the third act is no time for polite conversations, introducing a new character or smelling the roses – regardless of genre. Everything has been established and in the third act, we just want to see what in the heck is going to happen. Think of this as the don’t-you-dare-get-up-and-go-check-the-parking-meter act. Audiences should be glued to their seats.

Review your script for act breaks throughout; Is your inciting incident on or about page ten (if not earlier)? Is your first plot point which takes us into the second act on or about page 25 to 30? How ‘bout that midpoint? Page 50-ish? And the second plot point should be around page 85 to 90.

The page-count markers above are ideals. The Rouge Wave-inatrix is in no way suggesting that writers strive for cookie-cutter structure, but don’t come crying to me when you wind up with 139 pages, ink stained fingers and a dazed look in your eye.

Go for the usual suspects: action line density, over-long scenes and a sluggish first act. Once your work there is done, how does your page count look now? If the problem persists, lift the hood and check the placement of your plot points. This will help you narrow down where your script may be lagging a bit.

And if absolutely everything else fails, I think we all know the dirty little “loose, extra loose, tight or extra tight” setting on Final Draft. Admit it. You’ve done it. We all have.

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Get it Right: Research and Details

,I once read in a script: “The helicopter music from Apocalypse Now plays.” And readers, I howled with rage unto the heavens and woke the neighbors. It’s not so much that I care whether famed anti-Semite Wagner gets his credit where it’s due, it’s that a writer would be so lazy as to actually use that description rather than taking the three minutes on Google to find the title of the music. [Apocalypse Now + music]

Most Rouge Wave readers are fairly sophisticated – the heartfelt response to the Black List entry is one example – but I consider this an egalitarian, omnivorous blog meant to entertain, inspire and educate. So for less experienced writers get out your post-its and write: Google. Wikipedia. Now bookmark those sites and get your money’s worth.

Because we live in an online world, doing research is fairly easy. The days of staring at a blurry microfiche at the library are long gone. That’s a nice way of saying there’s no excuse for the incident above. If you aren’t sure of something LOOK IT UP. Because a reader will spot your oversight instantly - and it makes us cranky. We’ve already discussed the disadvantages of a cranky reader. Readers are pretty smart. Don’t underestimate us. Or maybe we’re just residually cranky but in any event if I have the smallest doubt about the authenticity of something in a script, I am the reader you do not want to have; my Google trigger-finger is formidable.

I read a script a few weeks ago that was set in 1852 and mentioned a play that some sophisticates were out to see. Hmm. The title was vaguely familiar to me. Isn’t that….I Googled….the play Lincoln was watching when he was assassinated! Ha! I was right. But hold on, he was assassinated in April, 1865. So…how is it that this play is showing over ten years earlier? I don’t think so. Well, let's see, when did the play first debut...1858. And it is on stage in 1852? Gotcha. Now, I know many of you are rolling your eyes – GEEZ – who cares?! Well, all right, the error above was not a big deal; I noted it but it really didn’t make a difference in the script. The point is check your facts. Because if you don’t we will and it’s just embarrassing for everyone. I am, admittedly, a stickler for detail. But how do you know the reader who reviews your script is not? Don't take the chance.

The helicopter music example, however, is an error so monumentally lazy that it telegraphs to the reader that this writer is cavalier and I guarantee, as we investigate the taped-off crime scene of the script, that it will be just one of many clues that the script is DOA.

Does every script require mountains of time-consuming research? Not necessarily. Here’s the beauty part: audience expectations. Your average movie-goer has consumed copious amounts of movies over the course of their lives. So audiences have a certain shorthand understanding of things in movie world. So if you are writing, say, a professor or academic of some kind, movie goers will instantly believe you if your character wears a sweater with elbow patches and glasses. Now: what kind of professor was Harrison Ford in WHAT LIES BENEATH? No – get your hand off that IMDB-finger – just off the top of your head, what did he do? Well, can’t quite remember but it involved his ability to make that paralyzing poison he later uses on Pfeiffer. Right – good enough, that’s all we need to know. If we go back and watch the movie really carefully paying special attention to the scenes in which Harrison talks about his job you’ll find that the dialogue is in a lovely, vague, movie-professor speak. Aha. Because in the movies, audiences have certain associations and expectations of a professor and all we have to do is meet those expectations and we’re good to go.

Any real professor, nurse, doctor, cop, fireman or lawyer (to only name a very few) fumes when they watch a movie about their profession. It’s not really like that! We never say that! We don’t do it that way! Right, right and right. Of course not. But this is the movies.

Dear readers, I have come full, beautiful circle: If you are considering writing a script about a genetics professor don’t let your blood run cold at the thought of mountains of research on a topic you don’t really understand. Depending upon the depth you will go into in the script (hint: audiences would be bored stiff watching a real geneticist) simply research the jargon and what the environment might look like. I guarantee you that if I am reading a script about a scientist who is doing experiments and TURNS INTO A FLY – I’m pretty happy when I see him in a white lab coat, beakers, a periodic chart of elements in the background and glasses on his nose – because really, he's going to turn into a fly!

In WHAT LIES BENEATH the only thing that is really pertinent to us as viewers is that Ford is a sweater-wearing, intelligent man who goes to work on a campus each day. It establishes his character and sets up that he could make some kind of poison. But again, watch the movie carefully and you really won’t hear any distinctly specific, scientific professorial-speak about the poison or the research. But that was a calculated move on the writer’s part. The writer understood that we just needed the ringers to help audiences buy that Ford is a professor. Of some kind.

If you are writing a script like LORENZO’S OIL – well, you better do your research, no two ways about it. Or THE INSIDER – you can’t gloss over facts there. Or a BEAUTIFUL MIND. You need to know what you are talking about and to develop some expertise in the area or the believability factor is out the window before you begin. Can you go too far? Absolutely yes.

I read a military-action script by a US Marine gunnery sergeant and believe me, this guy knew his munitions. But he went overboard. His exciting action story was totally buried under accurate but overwhelming and boring descriptions of each gun, helicopter, grenade, Humvee or tank in every scene. My eyes swam with numbers and at a certain point I asked him – is this a big helicopter, this H9J30-jigger-rigger-940B? Yes, he said, that is the biggest helicopter the military makes. GREAT I said – then just write – “The biggest, heaviest helicopter the army has ever made rises up from behind a sand dune in a deafening roar.” That’s all I need to know. This is one huge helicopter. When his movie gets made, then he can sort out exactly which gun and exactly which helicopter. The expertise of the writer and subsequent detail totally obscured the story.

The bottom line is you will always have at least a little research and fact-checking to do in your script. Neither be too detailed nor too lazy. Ask yourself: how pertinent are the actual facts here? How much can I get away with explaining or not explaining and still keep the audience hooked?

Worse – far worse – than being too detailed is coming off as lazy or ill-informed. An over-detailed writer can always pull back but a writer who hasn’t bothered to fact check a detail or research a topic is just asking for a PASS because he or she didn’t care enough to do the homework and worse, didn’t think anybody would bother to check. Au contraire.

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Page Count 101

The first thing a reader does once your script is in his or her hands is pull out the brads while staring at the title contemplatively - THE CRAZY DUMPLING. Huh. Then we flip to the last page to check your page count. We do it for two reasons. To know what we are up against this morning and to get a sense of your skill set as a writer. The number of pages in a script tells me immediately whether or not your story ran away with you. If I see that you have 120 pages, I’m going to flip back to the title and if that doesn’t help, look at page one. I am looking for genre. If I see that I am reading a horror or comedy, my stomach drops. Because at 120 pages, there is a fundamental problem with your story. I don’t even have to read it to tell you that.

Fun Fact: A page of script is about one minute of movie time.

Debates around roaring bonfires rage long into the night about how long a script should be. A script should be only as long as it takes to tell the story and not a page longer. That’s pretty helpful, huh? Well, let’s look at the basic three-act structure which tells us that in general, we have between 25 and 30 pages in the first act, 50 and 60 pages in the second act and between 20 and 30 pages in the third act. Using the high and low numbers there, that means your script should be between 100 and 120 pages long.

It is ironic but true that at the same time that our society is collectively suffering from ADD as we thumb scroll through our Blackberries in line at the movie theater and drink our green tea energy beverages while we plan next weekend down to the nanosecond, movies have become l-o-n-g-e-r. Twenty years ago, a two hour movie was an epic. It was highly unusual. Maybe THE LAST EMPEROR or Bertolucci’s 1900 or LAWRENCE OF ARABIA. Sitting in a theater for two hours was considered a subversive, brave deed and accomplishment.

Today two hour movies have almost become the norm. Add onto that the previews, and drinking that green tea energy beverage suddenly doesn’t seem so smart does it? But I digress. It is important, in my view, to note then ignore the fact that movies seem to have gotten longer. The attention span of executives and has in fact gotten shorter. They want the thumbnail of your script in about thirty seconds. They want to know what your story is about in about three pages. They want to get to the good part already. Readers – this is not a bad thing.

The upshot is that page count is largely dependent upon genre. In general, drama, fantasy and science fiction might tip toward the 120 page mark. Even in those genres I would recommend trying to keep it closer to 110 or 115. If you are writing a horror or comedy in particular – shoot for the magic 100 page mark. Horror and comedy (very hot genres to be writing these days by the way) are timing-dependent genres. Things are scarier and funnier when the surrounding narrative clips along at a pretty dependable pace. If you are writing a horror script and don’t understand that fundamental truth about the genre – then I know the story is in trouble. Because I should never see a 120 page horror.

No matter which genre you are writing, it can truly be helpful to set a limit right away. I will not write more than 112 pages. Thinking if of it as counting calories; you can have all the fun you want but when you hit the limit, your day is done. Setting a page count limit at the outset can impose a discipline which will ripple backward across the script, forcing your story to be as pithy as possible. The reader who can say pithy three times fast after having just eaten a saltine wins the Rouge Wave Pithy Prize by the way.

Again, when I look at the page and see 120 pages, my eyebrows shoot up. It’s an alarm bell. I look again at the genre – maybe this is a civil war drama? No. Romcom. Uh oh. The writer is waving red flag trouble immediately. 130 pages – the script is a 4 alarm fire. Now, more established writers might be able to get away with that high a page count but until you are an established working writer that we are all going to read about in Written By? Please don’t write a 130 page script.

I have heard writers say – well, I just can’t tell my story in under X-way-too-many-pages. Yes. You. Can. Who is the boss here? You or the story? That is an excuse that drives me nuts. Challenge yourself. Look at your draft and lose ten pages. Just lose them. I promise you that every time, without exception, when I have seen writers mercilessly shorten their script, the story has improved. The shorter the script the more potent the pages become.

You are the chaperone of your story. Like a child, stories need discipline to be their best selves. Rule number one. Stay in the yard – 100 to 110 pages.

I apologize for the many and varied metaphors but it reminds me of the old game show Name that Tune – I can tell this story in 100 pages, Bob! Go for it. Shoot for the low end page count and your story – and executive/reader will thank you for it. You will not be making a mistake.

Can you write too few pages? Yes. A script that comes across a desk with less than 100 pages waves another red flag…This script is anemic; the writer didn’t have a whole, three act story to tell and what crawled across the finish line just can’t be that good.

As with anything, immediately writers say yes but X famous comedy was 95 pages and it made X million dollars. Fine. That particular story was served well by 95 pages. Yes and X moving drama was a 142 page script and it won the Academy Award. So you’re full of baloney, Rouge Wave! I can write as many or as few pages as I want!

To look for exceptions is great sport because you will always find them, hidden between the trees in the forest. But as a new writer, you will set yourself up to miss the forest for the trees. Imposing page limits is a good way to hew to genre expectations and to ask your story to please tell itself in the most efficient way possible. We are not writing Proust here, people. We don’t have the luxury.

When an executive looks at your script, you have about five minutes flat to make a great impression. Maybe less. As we have explored and will continue to explore in this blog, there are a number of indicators that the writer knows his or her craft and that we are in good hands. Page count is one of them. It’s the first thing we notice; it can be the nail in the coffin or the punctuation mark at the end of a great script.

Know your genre, set a page limit and stick to it. Your story will thank you.

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Writing Great Characters

The ability to write good characters is highly sought after in Hollywood. Primarily because it isn’t easy and it isn’t something that every writer can do equally well. But mark my words, writing organic, realistic, three-dimensional characters will set your script apart from every other script in the stack – even if your story idea isn’t as high octane as another script.

When convincing characters with idiosyncrasies and foibles populate your pages, readers sit up and notice. Because they are invested in your story. Nothing will set you apart faster than great character work. And nothing will sink you faster than poorly written characters. I don’t care how scary your script is, or how funny – I will never laugh nor cringe if I don’t buy it and I don’t care.

Interestingly, when I read a terrific script with well-developed characters, I never stop and think: My, that’s a well-developed character! But when something sad happens to the character – I get a lump in my throat. Or I get anxious. Or I grin because the character had a revelation or catharsis. I am right there in the character’s skin. Even an antagonist. If they are well drawn, man, I hate them. I loathe them. I turn the pages with satisfaction as the antagonist is getting their comeuppance. But when character work is thin or two-dimensional as we readers are wont to say – then I notice. I might pen a note in the margin of your script: NO WAY or sometimes GIVE ME A BREAK. You don’t want those notes.

All movies are character driven in the sense that audiences cannot care about the meteor hurtling toward earth to destroy all mankind of they don’t know or care about the main character trying to save the day. Well, how exactly do you write good characters? What’s a writer, especially a newer one to do?

Here are a few shortcuts to help rev up your imagination:

Imagine the actor of your choice playing the part. Now imagine how that particular actor moves, talks, laughs or cries. As you are writing your character, just visualize this actor. This will be helpful immediately.

Second, take some time to write a back story for your character. You may want to print out a blank questionnaire and fill it in every time you are working on a new character. When you fill in the answers to the questions, don’t let yourself think too much, just let it flow. Let the character get inside your head and answer the questions for themselves. Notice the way the questions are addressed to your character, not you:

Where were you born?
How old are you?
Do you have brothers and sisters?
Do you believe in God?
Was your family rich, poor or middle-class growing up?
What did your parents do for a living?
What cracks you up?
How do you take your coffee?
What annoys you more than anything?
What is your most embarrassing habit?
What’s your idea of a perfect day?
What’s the worst thing you ever did?
What’s your favorite book?
What is your favorite movie?
Do you listen to music? What kind?
Where would you like to go on vacation next?

So if you are writing a middle-aged woman in a suspense thriller, her answers will be very different than if you are writing a 75 year old ex cop. Answer the way your character would – let your character speak through you. So for some characters the answer to “How do you like your coffee?” might be I don’t drink coffee, idiot. Another character might answer differently: Oh thank you for asking. I gave up coffee because of my high blood pressure though. Another might say: My mom and dad don't let me drink it.

Have fun; let the answers flow; make up questions of your own if you want. Spend some time getting to know your character outside of the story. I like to think of it as taking the horses once or twice around the track to warm up. Don’t worry about the plot right now; just get a warm up going. For every major character.

Another exercise some writers like to do is to imagine that your character has been given three whole, uninterrupted minutes on national television to say anything they want. To get it all off their chest. Sit at your computer, take a deep breath and let the character talk in a stream-of-consciousness way. Don’t judge, don’t edit, and don’t worry about spelling. What would your character say?

Another helpful and fun piece of homework to do is to pay attention when you go out; eavesdrop on people in restaurants, on the bus, in line at the post office. Notice the way they make or do not make eye contact. Listen to the way voices rise and fall. Notice how much hand gestures are or are not used. Mostly, notice the fact that most people don’t talk about the subject at hand in direct terms. The thing is never the thing. A couple in a fight might argue about what to order or being late. But what are they really arguing about? What are the real emotions under the words? What is being five minutes late emblematic for? Pay attention to the way people – including you – flatter, obfuscate, change the subject or use sarcasm or jokiness while conversing. Notice how people deflect compliments. Or use double-entendre.

Come to understand what your character’s attitude is on that page, in that moment, at this point in their lives. Are they feeling threatened or jealous? Vain or insecure? Where are they coming from in other words? What do they want? What do they need? Most of us confuse what we want with what we need. Your character may not really need the perfect parking spot or the cup of coffee just so – but what do they want? Why would a character yell at a meter maid? They don’t want the ticket. But what they really don’t want is to feel adolescent and powerless. So let’s invert that and we arrive at – they want to feel powerful. They need to feel powerful. And so they lash out. Characters have deep, imbedded flaws and fears. Just like we do. And that flaw, over the course of the script, will change.

Many new writers find themselves making two mistakes; giving their character a passive flaw or assigning characteristics or habits to the character without having done any thinking about a flaw. The way people act – or act out – is merely a symptom of an inner flaw. The guy losing his cool at the meter maid may also give his wife the silent treatment. The actions your characters take are on the surface. The motivation for those actions is in their core. Slapping your character with a set of symptoms without knowing what is really going on inside will guarantee a two-dimensional character. All behavior and no inner landscape.

Many characters (and most real life humans) feel deeply insecure that they aren’t loved enough, tough enough, rich enough, smart enough or pretty enough. They act from fear. They must go out and grab what they don’t feel they have enough of – because they want validation – or they might go head-down and be a victim because they’ll never have enough self worth.

Flaws that are imminently passive and distinctly unoriginal are things like: He needs to be loved. She resents her mother. He wants to fit in. He feels pressured. She runs away from relationships. B-o-r-i-n-g. And these examples truly are culled from my experiences as a reader. These are not flaws; these are only the very beginnings of nascent ideas for flaws.

Dig deep into your characters for the unique attributes that set that character apart from anyone else. The specificity of your character’s life can mean everything when it comes to your script. Two coming of age movies come to mind: SMOKE SIGNALS and BEND IT LIKE BECKHAM. One is set on a Native American Indian reservation as a young man confronts his painful past and deadbeat father. The other is a young Indian woman living in England who is struggling with an identity crisis as her parents try to steer her away from assimilating into British culture – specifically soccer.

Look at the differences between these characters. Their worlds are completely different and therefore their circumstances. Have a look at your script; should your main character be a different gender? A different ethnicity? Older? Younger? What can you do to maximize the story through the intimate details of your character?

The thing is this – most writers think they do write good characters. I have yet to find a one who would say yes, you know, actually my characters suck. So how do you know whether your characters read like real, flawed, compelling and interesting people? Read your pages aloud. Ask a trusted friend who is not afraid to be honest with you to read a few pages and make suggestions. Most importantly be pre-emptive: Do your homework. After that, you’ll just have to see how your work is received out there in the big bad market.

When we write, we get to play god. We invent worlds and situations. We control events. But we have to remember, no matter the genre, world or setting, we are writing about – and for - human beings. Don’t write cardboard characters. Slow down. Dig deeper. Keep it real.

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The Joy of It

There are many writers who take this whole writing thing a bit seriously. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. They know their Kurosawa, Hitchcock and Fellini. They can contrast and compare early Polanski, analyzing whether KNIFE IN THE WATER was reflective of cinema verité or whether it was simply derivative. They can spend entire evenings discussing the meaning and metaphor of Truffaut’s JULES AND JIM. Serious writers wear black turtlenecks and write each day at an appointed time. They quote Flannery O’Connor or Ernest Hemmingway; they have elbow patches. They knit their collective brows when we ask if they saw Oprah yesterday. Op-rah? On tele-vision? Serious writers spend every day stooped over their Olivetti typewriters clack-clacking the next CINEMA PARADISO and most evenings watching THE BICYCLE THIEF while they sip very expensive scotch and congratulate themselves on how veddy veddy intellectual they are. And that’s terrific and I salute them and I have seen every movie listed above and many more. But my favorite movie is SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN. I can’t explain it. I just love that darn movie.

My point is that it is important to unkink a little and remember that what we are doing here, as writers is bread and circus. We are creating entertainment. Say it with me slowly: enter-tain-ment.

In my interactions with various executives, producers, managers an agents, I find that we have one thing very much in common: a passionate love of movies. Posters adorn their walls. They are eager to discuss great scenes and memorable moments. If you ask their favorite movie it’s as likely to be THE LIFE OF BRIAN or APOCALYPSE NOW. Yes, it is easy to get lost in the box office stats, the prestige, fame and money involved with this business but at the end of the day the reason we don’t work in a paper mill is because we love movies, top to bottom, side-to-side, six ways from Sunday. Movies are cool.

If you find yourself watching a Buster Keaton movie and feeling very smug and intellectual about it, somebody needs to wallop your head with a dead fish. Forget everything you have learned and watch that man drive a car as it is falling apart down the street. That is entertainment in its purest, essential form. Mel Brooks once said: Tragedy is when I get a hangnail. Comedy is when you fall down the staircase.

One of my favorite movies is Preston Sturges’ SULLIVAN’S TRAVELS. Our main character goes on a quest to live the authentic life because he feels that being a screenwriter in Hollywood just isn’t meaningful or productive. The great moment in the movie comes when our main character watches prisoners shuffle into the viewing hall for their weekly movie. It’s a comedy. And suddenly those sweaty, hopeless prisoners are alight with laughter. And our guy looks around at those faces and has an epiphany; sometimes a good belly laugh is all we have to hang on to. And sometimes a cathartic cry is just what we need. Movies heal us. Movies are us.

It is fantastic to have a knowledge and appreciation of film history and of specific movements, directors, periods, etc. In fact, I think it quite important. But this knowledge is dry, dusty and dead if the pure, untethered love of movies is sucked out of it. Nothing is more boring than a writer who spouts intellectual blather about the French New Wave when all we can think is “Death therapy, Bob!”

Watch older movies simply for the joy of it. Forget all that stuff you are supposed to know about verité this and cantilevered that. Just take movies in for what they are meant to be – entertainment. It really is possible to watch Fritz Lang’s METROPOLIS for the thrill of those funky robots. NOSFERATU (wow, what’s up with those prosthetic fingers?!) MR. SMITH GOES TO WASHINGTON (admit it, you cried a little, didn’t you?) CABARET (Geez Michael York used to be hot!) PILLOW TALK (coolest opening credits ever!)
What about Woody Allen playing cello in a marching band in TAKE THE MONEY AND RUN? What about when Ratzo Rizzo dies in MIDNIGHT COWBOY? In that moment, I don’t care who wrote or directed the story, I don’t care that Dustin Hoffman ad libbed “I’m walking here!” I get a lump in my throat the size of Arizona when he and Jon Voight take the bus to Florida.

Nobody said it better than Woody Allen in HANNAH AND HER SISTERS. Mickey Sachs, fearing he has brain cancer, goes to the movies and watches the Marx Brothers. And as he watches the black and white movie flicker before him...well...if you haven't seen it - rent it immediately. It is one of my favorite movie moments ever.

Movies are an art form, a passion and a tabula rasa upon which we collectively write our dreams and fears. Be omnivorous; watch foreign movies, silly movies, action movies or war movies. Let your guard down and take it all in. And just remember this: that pervasive smell of popcorn as you enter a theater is a reminder that this is entertainment. When you get stuck on your script or are just plain frustrated because you haven’t had a good idea for six months, spend a whole weekend and go to the movies. Get that jumbo popcorn and soda, slide down into that seat and forget about plot points, cinematography and directors. Turn off your mental IMDB. Enjoy the exquisite pleasure of forgetting all about your taxes, car repair or laundry. Make watching movies for the simple joy of it a habit. It will make you a happier, more inspired writer and remind you of just why it is you want to become part of something as ephemeral yet rock-bottomly important as entertainment.

Once in awhile, I go see children’s movies by myself. I do it for the sheer joy of watching the children erupt into unbridled, snorting laughter as they thrill to the scenes on the big screen. I look down the row and see little legs sticking straight out because they are too short to hit the ground and I see sweaty, sticky little hands grasping melting candy and I see little faces – grinning, laughing, awed, a little scared - and I am reminded why I love the movies.

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Writing Groups: Should You Join One?

Writing groups can be fantastic. A give and take of ideas, inspiration and motivation. I have been a member of a writing group of fellow Writer’s Boot Camp alums for 3 years. Sometimes we meet regularly, other times we fall off a bit. Sometimes we just eat and drink, other times we really push each other. Primarily, we are buddies and because of that, we are invested in each other’s success.

It is important, when considering joining or creating a writing group, to have clear goals for your writing and for your group. Is this strictly a screenwriting group? How about essays or prose? Will there be regular meetings at a regular location? What are the expectations of the group? My group (we call ourselves the Splinter Cell – long story) decided at the outset that each person would get exactly 30 minutes to present their material for review and for the ensuing discussion. Sometimes we end early on an individual, if they’ve gotten what they need – but we never go over. We are keenly aware that have each arrived with something we really wanted to discuss.

We support each other. If there are events, victories or failures, my writing group huddles and provides comfort, food, commiseration and high-fives. We are there for each other. And that includes the polite eye-brow raise and the softly spoken: Um, that really doesn’t make sense. I like it though. You go, girl. But I think you have got a problem with the logic. We trust each other. And it takes time to build that trust.

At the outset, we selected each other with care. When we occasionally add a new member, we think carefully about their potential contribution. We have all sat through too many evenings in our writing program where a writer would dominate the conversation, snap angrily, drone catatonically or burst into tears while we clenched our knuckles and looked at the clock. Make sure that on the whole, the writers in your group are on the same level. Meaning, don’t join a writers group of soccer moms who have written their first short story if you have been doing this for years. You will only wind up frustrated. Don’t join a writers group if there is a strong bent or agenda of some sort if you really just wanted some feedback on a scene.

A writing group can be a tremendous source of support, constancy and brainstorming. Just choose your members carefully and be clear, at the outset, as you discuss the rules, boundaries and expectations of the group. Particularly if you live in an area in which there is seemingly a dearth of creative types, a writing group can save your sanity. Many writers are by nature solitary creatures. Not all – just the large majority. But screenwriting is vastly different from almost every other writing career in that it is extremely collaborative. You might be shy and retiring but that’s all the more reason to build community and trust and give yourself a built-in reason to finish that draft by next Thursday at 7:30.

Writers can seek established writing groups or seek members for a new one by looking at Craig’s List, posting a notice at the local library or café, or posting on an internet message board and looking for those who live in the area. Breaking into an existing group can be tough but remember, it is you who are shopping for the group as much as the group is shopping for a new member. Everybody has to bring something to the table.

Lately, my group hasn’t been getting together that often. We had a beer and pizza laugh-fest last month. And we plan our usual Academy Award Heckle-Fest. We may not talk about one premise line or character arc. But we are all in this thing together and in the end, that commonality of purpose is what binds us.

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Zeitgeist

According to Wikipedia: Zeitgeist is originally a German expression that means "the spirit (geist) of the time (zeit)". It denotes the intellectual and cultural climate of an era.

So who cares, right? Well – show of hands – who thinks now is a good time to write a script about the Iraq war? Anybody? Anybody? Right. Though the war is still grinding on (and on) the fact is that three years from now, audiences will probably be less interested in the Iraq war than in some new conflict. But what new conflict? Exactly.

Part of our job as writers is to not just reflect zeitgeist but to predict it. Which comes first, movies, journalism and commentary about the news of the day or the way people feel about the news of the day? That is a question Hollywood has long struggled with. The fact is, as with most things, the truth probably lies somewhere in the middle. What audiences see at the movies provokes their opinions, conversations and reflections long after the movie is over. But if we don’t provide movies that audiences want to go see because that particular hook or premise is the subject of curiosity or concern – then son, we have ourselves an empty theater.

How do we know what the zeitgeist is? Well first of all, it is helpful to break the concept down a little. There are global, domestic, environmental, intellectual, political, sexual and just plain silly issues and concerns floating around all the time, large and small. THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA and Ugly Betty are two great examples of nailed zeitgeist. Boomers are aging, the globe is warming, the Middle East is warring and information is king. So what will happen next? Where are we going from here, as a species?

What is the prevailing zeitgeist about Africa at the moment? Well, thanks to the Pitt-Jolie family, Bono, Oprah, THE HOTEL RWANDA, BLOOD DIAMOND and the CONSTANT GARDENER, most Americans are feeling perhaps a bit more concerned about the continent; maybe even aware of some of the issues going on there, good and bad. Unstable nations, child slave-labor, AIDS and the exploitation of resources have been brought to the fore. Show of hands – good time to write a script about Africa? Anybody? Probably not.

But let’s take that down a notch. What is the prevailing zeitgeist about women in the workplace? For that, as writers, we need to turn to the pop culture happening all around us. How do most people you know feel about Hilary for president? What books about women are on the bestseller list right now? What are literary critics saying about the work? We don’t have to be high falutin in our research: who has been on the cover of People Magazine lately? What do the letters to the editor say about Brittney’s parenting skills?

In other words, to determine zeitgeist, all we really need to do is look and listen to the conversations going on all around us. What does your mom worry about more these days? What do YOU worry about? What are you excited about? What do your friends talk about on a Friday night? Mind you, you’ll have to listen in for subtleties. It’s unlikely you will see this scenario playing out:

Wilhelmina: What do you think about a female president?
Fredericka: Well, my zeitgeist-o-scope says it’s fema-bout-time!

Really, zeitgeist is a slippery term but in general it is generated by the attitudes we collectively hold toward various topics. If Hollywood executives could nail zeitgeist every time, all movies would be hits. But they can’t. And again we go back to which came first – the zeitgeist or the movie.

There is no silver bullet to nailing zeitgeist. Bear in mind that even if your agent is going wide with a great script right this minute, it can take two to three years before your movie will even be made. So what is a writer to do?

Look around at what is happening right now. Now reach into the future a couple of years at least. A public totally saturated with Paris Hilton right now may be totally disinterested in a movie about spoiled, vacuous blonde heiress three years hence. By then, there will be something or someone else capturing our attention. For better or for worse. Who will be elected president next? How will our nation recover from Iraq and The Bush administration? We just don’t know. So we may begin to conclude that while we can see what is happening now, we can’t possibly know what will be going on in the future. We can only make educated guesses.

So while writing your script, be aware. Is your script highly topical? If so, does it reflect what is going on now or has been going on for a year or more? If so, you may need to rethink the script because by the time your script is in play, the topicality is old news. But rather, if you are purely speculating about some totally new way of thinking about a particular issue, you’re probably on the right track.

Writers are spectators, speculators and historians of our collective experience. Unless you’re writing a blog – instantly publishable and imminently perishable, either take a new view of the past or take a wild stab at the future. Your script could become the movie that audiences will gravitate to because they are curious or concerned, consciously or unconsciously about the nature of your premise. And they might just come away from your movie with whole new attitudes about it too. Which will shape the zeitgeist.

And for those of you who made it to the perishable end of this blog-entry:

Fahrvergnügen, from fahren "to drive" and Vergnügen "pleasure". Which reminds me of my favorite bumper sticker, unprintable here.

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Are You Rep-Ready?

Hollywood often feels like a very exclusive club with menacing bouncers standing at the door. And you, the writer, are one of thousands standing in line outside in the cold waiting and hoping for your chance. The line seems to shuffle forward little by little but like a Sisyphusian nightmare, you always find yourself standing at the back of the line. Watching other people get ushered inside. And everyone who gets inside has one thing in common: a smartly dressed escort at their elbow. That would be an agent or manager.

An agent or manager is a necessity. But how do you get one? Many writers try the scattershot method of listing their script with a query-blasting service, which sends your logline to any producer with an email address like so much spam. Others list their loglines on websites which producers browse. Word on the street is that successful producers have time to browse the internet for scripts. That make sense to you? Other writers invest in a Hollywood Creative Directory and start with A and end with Z, sending out one query letter after another. I know these methods well because I tried them all. And nothing came to fruition for me. Work sent in these ways usually winds up lost in a sea of other loglines and queries. The question is how do you stand out from the rest?

It seems everything is stacked against us. Some agents don’t accept unsolicited queries. So how do they get new clients? They may not be looking for clients except through referral. So how do you get referred? If you sometimes feel that everything is designed to keep you and your work at arms length, you’re not far off base. In my adventures reading for production companies I have been and continue to be shocked by the piles of scripts I see. I call them “the slithering stack”. They literally slither to the floor because there are too many. And these are represented scripts.

In order of efficacy, here are the best methods for seeking representation:

1) Friend of a friend.
2) Be a competition winner or finalist
3) Go to a pitch-fest and blow an exec’s mind
4) Query selectively using the HCD
5) The Schwab’s Drugstore Fantasy

FRIEND OF A FRIEND
The friend of a friend is obviously something very few people can take advantage of. But you can cultivate relationships in the business which could lead to a hand-off at some point in the future. You never know. That’s how I got my manager. But as I look back, it was a long time coming until the stars were aligned and I just so happened to have a good script and it just so happened to be right up my manager’s alley. Luck = timing + opportunity.

COMPETITIONS
A much more realistic approach is to enter your scripts into competitions. There are many to choose from and by and large, they really are a terrific way to get noticed. I would avoid those contests that run competitions frequently and that don’t seem to have much in the way of industry credibility. In my opinion, some competitions which can really pay off for you are:

The Nicholls Fellowship
The Austin Film Festival
Final Draft Big Break
The Blue Cat Screenwriting Competition
The Disney Fellowship
Slamdance
Creative Screenwriting’s AAA Competition
Creative Screenwriting’s yearly Expo Competition

Deadlines for most of these competitions are coming up quickly so if you do want to enter, do your research and be ready to send your script shortly.

Competition winners will have their work exposed to industry professionals. Some competitions are more illustrious than others – Nicholls comes to mind – but all of these competitions are designed to help launch writers. I urge all my clients to enter as many of these competitions as they can.

PITCH-FESTS
Attending a pitch-fest is also a good way to seek representation. FADE IN online is sponsoring a pitch-fest here in LA on February 17th and 18th. If your work is not only highly polished and ready but you feel confident pitching – this could be a terrific opportunity.

QUERYING
If none of the methods above have paid off for you, or do not appeal for any reason, you can go old school and query. This is not the most effective method but still – there are exceptions. Buy yourself the latest edition of the Hollywood Creative Directory for agents and managers (it is updated quarterly) or get an online subscription of same. As you flip through the book, have your IMDB at the ready. Read the company descriptions carefully, look up execs and their resumes.

Sometimes as a new writer, the smaller boutique management shingles are the best place to look. The HCD will include absolutely everybody but there are two things to be very aware of: The long shots and the shysters. A short list of the long shot agencies and management firms would include:

CAA
ICM
William Morris
UTA
Benderspink

We know that these agencies represent the crème de la crème in both the literary and acting realms. Not the best place for a newbie to come a’ knockin’. Which is not to say you can’t try – just be aware that it would be quite an accomplishment to even get a response to your query through these venues.

The shysters are the one-man outfits, usually. With addresses outside of Los Angeles or New York. Yes there are managers and agents in Chicago, Atlanta and Minneapolis; but that’s not where the business is. How effective and connected is a manager who can’t do lunch easily and regularly with potential buyers? As you peruse the HCD, IMDB the principal and see if anything comes up. If you do call or query, absolutely do NOT pay a fee for anything. Some of these unethical charlatans prey on new writers by charging fees to send your work out. These types of people are tempting for new writers because they will pick up the phone more or less immediately, they will talk to you and they will agree readily (most often) to read your material. That’s because they aren’t in the business of making deals – they are in the business of bilking writers. If it’s too good to be true – it probably is.

Do not pay any fees – ever. Do not trust the “manager” that has a barking Chihuahua in the background or the drone of a television set. How do I know to warn my dear readers of these types? Been there. Done that. Believe more highly in your work than to be lured into the grasp of these bottom feeders.

A resource for checking out the creds of agents and managers is the Done Deal Message Board. There writers can post about their experiences. Do a search and spend some time on the site; you may find all the answers you need right there.

SCHWABS
We’ve all heard stories of an actor or writer being discovered at odd moments or locations. And yes, it can indeed happen. Which is why you should always be prepared to talk about your work. However. The instances of a writer making a profitable connection with a representative or producer while shopping for shampoo are – well – miniscule. If you are doing everything in this list to find representation and then you run into Tom Hanks while you are checking out with your Clairol Herbal Essence - terrific. But don’t count on it.

The big question really is – are you ready for representation? It’s not just a matter of the stars being aligned – it’s a matter of the maturity of your material. How many scripts have you written? If this is your first script, the chances that the material is rep-ready are pretty slim. And that’s okay. It takes time to learn the craft and you will improve with each new script you write. It took me 7 ½ scripts before I got repped. And I tried everything from spamming producers through a service to dressing up like Dorothy and hanging out in front of Laundromats handing out scripts. Well, okay, my friends had an intervention before I made it out the door on that one.

My point is that yes, getting representation is indeed the opening through which your career can sashay into the exclusive club. It doesn’t guarantee that you will then sell the project or be a real working writer, but you are in the game. But before you look for a rep, make sure you have accumulated a body of work. An arsenal as some say. Read the how-to books. Take some classes online or in person. The UCLA Writers Program has great online and weekend classes. Also the Writer’s Boot Camp in Santa Monica has online and on-the-ground courses. Give it some time. Then, when you are ready, you just upped the chances of getting a rep by 1000%. Trying to get a rep before you’re ready will ultimately be a blow to your confidence as a writer. You will find yourself on the receiving end of a whole lot of unreturned phone calls and/or dismissive letters. Make sure you and your material are up to snuff.

The sixty four thousand dollar question is this: how do you know if your work is good enough to be repped? Have you sought feedback from either professionals in the industry or trusted and literate friends? Have you done everything in your power to improve your writing at every turn? Are you perhaps rushing things and looking for the instant one million dollar spec sale? Slow down, take your time and do your homework.

And even after you've dotted every "i" and crossed every "t", the fact is, you’ll never be 100% sure if your work is all that. Even accomplished writers feel like frauds, it’s just part of being a writer. But if you’ve done your due diligence, then take a deep breath and jump in.

My friend Stephanie Palmer, who has a wonderful consulting company called Good In A Room is offering, for the first time, a three-evening series here in Los Angeles, on finding representation. Stephanie is a class-act and I highly recommend treating yourself to the series if you can. You can find the schedule and learn more about Stephanie at http://www.goodinaroom.com/

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Hollywood History for Dummies Part One: The Hays Code and the BlackList

Don’t grumble dear readers. History can be painless. Especially when it’s chewed up first; I am no history teacher but I know one thing: I rarely come across writers who know much of anything about the history of Hollywood pre-GREMLINS. And that, my friends, is not a good thing. Even more rarely do I come across writers who care. And I find that a bit heartbreaking.

Suppose I were to go into the computer chip business today. (The very nomenclature is a hint that the first time I saw how a computer worked it was a Moog synthesizer.) Do I need to know the clumsy intricacies of the very first computers in order to do my job today? Probably not. But in order to really appreciate a slim, sleek, 2 ounce laptop, it is helpful to have laid eyes on a beeping, buzzing four hundred square foot behemoth. Or at minimum to have seen blurry photos of Bill Gates with a mop top and bad plastic 70s glasses. It puts things in context. It gives me an appreciation of my Blackberry. Even if I still don’t quite know how to use it.

To strive to be rewarded by an industry that you know little or nothing about except what you read in the trades or on the cover of People Magazine seems foolhardy and presumptuous in my view. How can we relish where we are as writers and as moviegoers if we know not from whence we came? How can we not tip our hats on a daily basis to the Hollywood Ten?

The truth is that Hollywood history, culture and politics matters and it matters very much. Because like all history, it hasn’t stopped and been frozen and framed in sepia tones. It continues to evolve and have repercussions. The Hays Code is a significant period in the history of Hollywood that very few younger writers are familiar with. Sure, it seems vaguely familiar… is that like Gilda Haysworth? No, that would be GILDA. And Rita Hayworth.

Hays Code
As the power of the medium of moving pictures skyrocketed, a number of scandals rocked Hollywood during the 1920s including the infamous murder of Virginia Rappe by Fatty Arbuckle. There was public outcry over the perceived indecency of movie makers and movies themselves. In an attempt to cultivate a positive view of the movie industry and to prove that it was an upright and responsible business, the Hays code, adopted in 1930 and enforced from 1934 to 1967 was put in place. It was a method through which the content of movies was controlled so that only that which was deemed suitable for audiences would make it to the silver screen. It was actually adopted by the studios quite willingly; it seemed wiser to institute self-imposed censorship than to wait for the other shoe to drop and be censored by the federal government. After all, the movies were generating a lot of money and to allow the industry to be undone would be suicide. So the Hays Code went into effect. For a look at the contents of the code, blow by blow, go to Wikipedia and be amazed.

In the 1950’s, the rise of television took the focus off of the movies. Mores began to shift and foreign films began to hit our shores that were quite a bit racier than Americans were used to – and the Code didn’t apply to foreign films. The Code became less and less effective; the influx of foreign films and movies made outside of the studio system created a system that was rapidly eroding.

In 1968, the Motion Picture Association of America put a film rating system into effect. The ratings were G, M, R, and X. The “m” rating was changed to GP in 1970 and then to PG in 1972. In 1984 PG-13 was introduced and in 1990 the X rating was replaced by NC-17, in part because pornographic bookstores and theaters had co-opted the rating and it had become synonymous with pornography.

The genesis of the ratings system is an important chapter in the history of movies and really, in the history of American popular culture. Will a thumbnail understanding of the Hays Code up your chances of writing an amazing script and winning an Oscar? Probably not. But knowing nothing about it will make you look like you haven’t studied up on the industry you want to be a part of. The term “pre-code movies” is something you should be familiar with. And on a lighter note – watching pre-code movies is a delightful treat.

Some of my favorite pre-code movies:
DINNER AT EIGHT (Jean Harlow)
I’M NO ANGEL (Mae West)
THE THIN MAN (Myrna Loy and William Powell).

MPAA and Hays Code Movie Homework:
THIS FILM IS NOT YET RATED

The Black List and the Hollywood Ten
Without question, the most ignominious moment in Hollywood history has to be the black list. After the Spanish Civil War and World War II, many actors, musicians and artists in Hollywood expressed interest in left wing political views including Communism. In 1947 the HUAC (House Un-American Activities Committee) invited forty one “friendly witnesses” to testify in Washington, D.C. It was simple, really. All they had to do was cooperate and name names. Ten of those forty one witnesses refused. Claiming that a little something called the First Amendment protected their rights. It was during this testimony that Ring Lardner, Jr., famously offered that he could name names – but “I’d hate myself in the morning.” Lardner was blacklisted and went to jail for 12 months. In fact, his book “I’d Hate Myself in the Morning” is a must read if you are interested to learn more about the black list. The Hollywood Ten refused to yield to the scare tactics of McCarthyism. And they paid for it with their careers. They also unwittingly intensified the witch hunt in Hollywood and the black list grew to unbelievable proportions.

Here’s a short list – a tiny list – of some performers and writers who were blacklisted:

Stella Adler
Artie Shaw
Aaron Copland
Leonard Bernstein
Alan Lomax
Lee Grant
Meredith Burgess
Waldo Salt
Arthur Miller
Lillian Hellman
Zero Mostel
Jose Ferrer
Dashiell Hammett
Ruth Gordon
Langston Hughes
Pete Seeger
Gypsy Rose Lee
Orson Welles

The Hollywood Ten:

Ring Lardner, Jr.
Dalton Trumbo
Edward Dmytryk
Alvah Bessie
Herbert Biberman
Lester Cole
John Howard Lawson
Samuel Ornitz
Adrian Scott
Albert Maltz

As writers and citizens both, we should all remember the Hollywood Ten with a great deal of respect. In this era of the Patriot Act and Guantanamo Bay, the Hollywood Ten are more relevant than ever.

Blacklist Movie Homework:
THE FRONT
GOODNIGHT AND GOODLUCK

To discuss amongst yourselves: Elia Kazan, formidable director of ON THE WATERFRONT, A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE, SPLENDOR IN THE GRASS and far too many to name here testified before the HUAC and named names. Coward? Rat? A guy trying to make a living who happened to cave to the prevailing winds?

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Fresh out of Ideas

It’s a terrible feeling when you’ve finally gotten that draft done and it occurs to you that you must quickly generate another script – but you have no ideas. None. Zero. Your brain feels like Death Valley; tumbleweed blows by at regular intervals and all you really want is a diet coke. Then your stomach growls.

Worse, it seems that other writers have tons of ideas. Great, inspired, vivid ideas. Other writers are literally Idea Machines. And each time they call and tell you gleefully of their great new idea you briefly consider strangling them and stealing it.

I have found over time that writers seem to be divided into two camps: the Idea Machines and the Ponderers. I’m a Ponderer. It is a special kind of hell for us Ponderers because most of the time, we got nothin’, just absolutely nothin’. But. There are sources of inspiration to turn to. It’s called the news.

Naysayers are quick to point out that scanning the newspaper for ideas is a dead-end road which ends at the Heart Break Hotel; if a story comes out in the Christian Science Monitor about a three-legged child from Atlanta who sued the Little League for the right to play, six weeks from now, eighteen specs will hit the market about just that. There is some truth to this possibility. Three or four months ago the Atlantic Monthly published a piece about the IRA and indeed, several established writers immediately set to putting together ideas and pitches. Sure enough a friend of a friend of mine found himself having dinner with David Benioff pitching an idea based on a particular paragraph of that article. He has since sold the pitch.

Of course this is a chance we take; when we all drink out of the same water hole, the source becomes muddy and overcrowded. The point I want to make is that reading various media outlets for ideas is the gift that keeps on giving. Writers who stay current not only on hard news but commentary, editorial and opinion pieces find themselves immersed in the sometimes brilliant, often controversial exchange of ideas that goes on between the great minds writing today. It prevents myopia from limiting your vision as a screenwriter.

Keep a file folder of clippings. Every time you see an article that tickles your fancy, cut it out and put it in the Idea File. Sometimes two clippings of seemingly disparate ideas may merge into one incredible premise. Sometimes the clippings will inspire simply a moment in a script you are already writing. Here are some clips I have saved because there was just something about the story that struck me as interesting:

*An elderly woman in the Midwest donated the recycling money she’d spent over thirty years saving – literally from Ensure and Dr. Pepper cans – and purchased a swimming pool for the population of the small town where she lived. In the clipping there is a photo of the elderly woman in a crazy 1920’s bathing suit cutting the ribbon in the modest city pool she’d purchased and stepping in as the first official swimmer. Thirty years she saved her recycling money. And what did she do with the money? She bought a pool because it was too damn hot.

*An entrepreneur purchased land in Virginia, near a Civil War battleground and is in the process of using the land for the first Civil War themed cemetery. That’s right. There will be a Union side and a Confederate side. Those who purchase a plot will, upon their deaths receive a funeral with full “military honors” with period costumes and the pomp and ritual fitting for either the Wah-uh of North’n Aggression or the War Between the States – depending which side of the cemetery you choose to be buried in.

*A small town in Texas went bankrupt when the local factory had to shut its doors. Desperate to keep the tiny town afloat economically, the townsfolk took a vote and decided to turn their little town into a permanent Oktoberfest-style Austrian village. They bought lederhosen, they revamped the main street complete with pointy-roofed facades and cuckoo clocks and they opened a restaurant which serves dark beer, sausage, blood pudding and pfeffernusse. Business is booming.

*A small town in the south is overrun by squirrels. Like, BEN overrun. The town council takes a vote and decides that every Monday, Wednesday and Friday citizens may shoot squirrels between twelve noon and two p.m. So three days a week for two hours each afternoon, the town erupts in gunfire. As of the date of the article, progress had been made.

Are any of these little clips particularly good ideas? Obviously not. Maybe they are just funny little moments doomed to languish in the Idea File forever. Or maybe one day a couple of them will coalesce to become the story of a town called Oberheffenhaffen where a character played by Jim Carrey blows into town one day, buys a sausage on a stick, shoots a squirrel and starts selling plots in the Confederate side of the cemetery. It's THE MUSIC MAN meets HAPPY TEXAS.

My point is this: if you feel like a dry well when it comes to ideas, if searching for them makes you feel desiccated artistically rather than inspired, turn to the world around you. Here are some of my favorite sources:

The Sunday New York Times
Vanity Fair*
The Atlantic Monthly
Defamer
Slate
Salon
The New Yorker
The Utne Reader
NPR (all of it, but This American Life in particular)

*did anybody read the article in VF 2 months ago about the wealthy scion whose yacht ran aground in a national preserve off the Florida Keys? That is a story waiting to be written.

Reading these types of publications will do more than gift you with ideas. It will widen your horizons and save you from the becoming a single-minded, slightly dull-eyed screenwriter with no interest in what’s happening in the world outside of Hollywood. All Hollywood and no world makes Jack a dull boy.

You will also be exposed to some terrific writers, controversial and otherwise; in Vanity Fair alone, regular contributors include Sebastian Junger, Christopher Hitchens and James Wolcott. The New Yorker of course features the brilliantly acerbic movie critic Anthony Lane (if you don’t own his collected reviews and essays “Nobody’s Perfect” run, do not walk to the bookstore), Jeffrey Toobin, Tad Friend, Hilton Als and occasional visits by Steve Martin. The Utne reader is a bi-monthly publication which features the best of the alternative press; it is rich with progressive and alternative points of view and a publication very dear to my heart.

I’m sure readers can contribute many other excellent sources for idea shopping. Do it for fun, do it for edification and do it to suss out the stories, large and small that are happening all around us. Because nothing is as strange as real life and nothing is more frustrating than staring at it right in the face and coming up bone dry.

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