Action Lines - Which Tense?

Previously in the Rouge Wave, we have discussed that action lines are a creative opportunity to make your pages come alive with sensory details. The rain can THUNDER down onto the tin roof, the gun can go BLAM!! in the motel room and the apple should be red, crisp and ice cold.

We have also discussed that action lines should be devoid of typos and malapropisms. I think every Rouge Waver knows that the Wave-inatrix goes apoplectic when writers use saddle when they mean sidle or peak when they mean peek.

We have even discussed how some over-enthusiastic writers, in an attempt to keep their action lines brief can sometimes err so far on the side of brevity that the action lines become some sort of pig latin which not only doesn't flow, doesn't make sense. So we might have: Girls in pool. Pool cold, gun POP, man yell.

The Wave-inaxtrix has expounded on how to describe your characters in your action lines and that character's faces never "show" anything - they ARE angry, upset or joyful.

Today we explore a new topic related to action lines and one that frankly, new writers often, understandably struggle with. And that is: which tense to use in action lines. It must have something to do with the alignment of the planets but recently I have read more than a handful of scripts in which action lines are written in what we would technically call the "present continuous tense":

Joseph is wading across the baby pool.

...rather than the proper tense for a script which is the "present simple"

Joseph wades across the baby pool.

Stepping away from grammar labels momentarily, the reason the first example is not appropriate for a script is that it distances the reader from the action in a small but subtle way. So rather than being in the scene with Joseph, in a sensory way, we are distanced because you are telling me what he is doing. I don't watch it myself - you narrate it to me. As if I am a sight-challenged person. Joseph is wading across the baby pool.

When an action line is written properly, I observe the action myself. I watch it happen. Joseph wades across the baby pool. You aren't telling me it's happening, it just IS happening. .

Do Wavers perceive the subtle difference? It's something that newer writers really take a long time to understand but once they do, they never look back. It's like riding a bike; simple and yet initially, as a concept, confusing - won't the bike fall down? In other words, it's counter-intuitive to write in the present simple tense. There are rare occasions when we write this way - in some forms of prose it is acceptable and stylishly so: So I walk down the street and there he is: my childhood nemesis.

But I digress. In an action line do not tell me that "we see" anything - do not tell me what the character is doing - just show them doing it. Millie eats porridge. Luciano cocks his gun. Millie looks up, startled. Luciano shoots his gun.

So just remember, your action lines are not the boring, descriptive laundry list preceding the dialogue - no. Action lines are actually equally as compelling as dialogue. Action lines are where you show off your voice, your panache and your style.

Action lines SHOULD:

Be like haiku: brief, economical and as sensory and colorful as possible

ALL CAP and briefly describe new characters - even extras like the NURSE.

Be written in the present-simple: The Wave-inatrix, in her polka-dot bikini, sips her bourbon and writes her blog.

Action lines SHOULD NOT:

Be dense and long-winded. Try to keep them to about 4 lines. Particularly on your first few pages.

Be so brief that they are choppy and weird sounding. Seriously, don't economize so much you leave out the fundamentals of sentence structure.

Save for few examples, be written in any other tense than the present simple. No "stirring" "dancing" or "murdering". He stirs, she dances, he murders. Keep it in the now.

The absolute best way to build your skill set with action lines is to read produced scripts. Or heck, just a good script, doesn't have to be produced. If you read quite a number of scripts you'll notice that naturally - and thank god - writes have pronounced styles. You'll see every rule broken, you'll swoon when you see Shane Black speak to you, the reader, on the page - (he's just so brilliant). But what you will not see is a screenwriter informing you, the reader, of what you are watching. Action lines should not describe a scene as if we are watching the characters in a diorama: Look, Bob is chopping carrots! Suzy is licking the spatula. The cat is meowing.

Rather, plunk a reader into the middle of the scene and describe what's happening as if it is in surround-sound and 3-D: Bob chops celery while Suzy licks the spatula. The cat meows piteously.

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The Sound of Silence

What fresh hell is this? You sent the script out to competitions, you queried agents and managers cleverly and…..nuttin’. Only a resounding….silence. Now what? All your hopes and dreams are dashed. Anger sets in. Then fear. Then heartbreak. All that work, all that time – and your script has made absolutely no head-way. Didn’t place in a single competition, didn’t get a single phone call or meeting. That was your big chance!

Rouge Wavers, I have been there. The simplest explanation is that the script just didn’t grab anybody. Maybe it totally sucked, maybe it was okay but the premise wasn’t that fresh or maybe it just didn’t stand out from the crowd. Any number of things could be true. And here’s another one: It isn’t personal. Oh and here’s another one: It’s not fair.

Screenwriters sometimes get an overblown sense of their competitiveness on the market because they hear stories of how BAD most scripts are. It’s true, most scripts submitted are really bad. But say through time, experience and education you happen to know your script is no longer in the amateur category. Now you have a new hurdle: originality. Everybody thinks their script is original. Of course we do – or we wouldn’t write it. But the cold, hard truth is, it may not be. Every single day of every single week every single year, hundreds of scripts pile in to Hollywood. To script services, to consultants, to agents, managers and competitions. Scripts are ubiquitous and they just keep on coming. It’s one thing to not suck but it’s quite another to have written a script so fresh, so original, so compelling that out of say fifty other scripts floating around on a given day – yours finds the top of the pile. The odds are long.

There are instances where writers have got just that – an original, compelling totally terrific script and they are hidden in the piles waiting for luck, timing and an exec in a good mood. It’s tough to know whether you script is simply needing to get into the right hands or whether your script just isn’t competitive compared to others.

The knee-jerk reaction to the Sound of Silence is to assume that your brilliant masterpiece has simply not been seen by the right people. Could be true. Or it could be it’s not as brilliant as you think. For every fifty horrible scripts there are 4 or 5 really great ones, too. As writers, we agonize and speculate. Then we begin to recriminate. Our desperate minds rifle through articles we’ve read about this or that writer whose script shot to the top of the pile because of X weird lucky circumstance. We think of scripts that circulated for ten years before being made.

But the difficult truth is, Rouge Wavers – you just can’t know. You can expend a whole lot of energy wondering and vacillating between self-loathing and self-pity or you can shrug your shoulders and keep working on new projects. The truth is, good material really does out – it will find it’s way to the top of piles. And the truth is – some good material just doesn’t find a home. It doesn’t stick. For now.

Maintaining hope when you are essentially playing the lottery is not easy. That’s why writers tend to smoke and drink too much, whine, are neurotic and are otherwise difficult to live with.

Set yourself apart from other writers; endeavor to persevere. Look in the mirror and know this: No, your entire life, career and reputation do not ride on this one script. Yes, there are better writers than you. But damn it, you are tough. And you won’t give up. When you finally get there – when you finally get a rep or better, a sale, you will be a little worn around the edges, but you will have earned that sale with the pound of flesh that it takes. You have it to give and so much more – never surrender – never give up!

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Only Connect: Do Writers Need Community?

Being a writer can be very isolating endeavor. Sure, we try to talk to our spouses, partners and goldfish about it but they can only relate to a limited sympathetic or supportive degree. Where does a writer turn for community -and is building community important?

The Wave-inatrix feels that relating other writers is a crucial part of a writer’s mental health and development as a writer. Joining a writing group in your area can be a god-send. You might make life-long friends or you might simply meet some kindred souls that once a week, take the focus off of you and your particular frustration.

You can join online communities, such as:

Done Deal

Wordplayer

Absolute Write

TriggerStreet

And if you meet someone at these online communities that you click with - meet them in person. Have coffee. And begin to create not a virtual, but a real community. Dare the Wave-inatrix dream that writers might even be able to create relationships here at the Rouge Wave? This blog obviously doesn't support a message board, but Wavers are always free to leave comments and/or exchange contact information through the Wave-inatrix.

You also might take a local writing class or attend a weekend seminar or conference, like the upcoming Creative Screenwriting Expo or the many ongoing offerings at the UCLA extension Writer’s Program. The Wave-inatrix has ammassed a formidable and satisfying writing community - but I have done all of the above and it's taken some time. There is no quick solution, in other words. You will have to put yourself out there and make effort.

Even if you’re not a particularly social person, hanging out with other writers, virtually or in person can lend much-needed perspective to what can otherwise be a maddeningly process. Why operate in a vacuum when you can vent, advise or otherwise commiserate with kindred spirits with whom you can share the experience of putting soul to paper?

Don’t stay up in your turret suffering because you are a writer. Move your body, create community and cultivate relationships. You won’t regret it.

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Guest Blog: Upfront and Behind, Part III

Good Monday, Rouge Wavers - today we conclude our three-part guest blog by M., assistant to a, what they call in Hollywood, Big Deal showrunner, who was kind enough to tell us all about her adventures in assisting to develop, cast and produce a television pilot.

Upfront and Behind, Part III
by M.

After two weeks of read-throughs and rehearsals, was show night. Like a stage production, the actors had to perform the script in front of a live audience. The studio packed in different audience groups in different age ranges and ethnicities. At least 150 people sat in uncomfortable chairs with too much air conditioning for four hours…….damn, I hoped the show would keep them entertained. A stand-up comic kept the show laughing at silly jokes, but, at least he kept them laughing.

And on the stage floor it was a whole other world. My boss surrounded herself with close friends and writers. The people she could trust for advice to tell her if a joke worked or not. Network and studio executives crowded around the monitors, and agents, girlfriends, husbands, assistants all crept onto the floor during the shooting. My job was to keep them all away from my boss. No one got on the floor that she didn’t approve…..even her agent, who I couldn’t resist any longer. The actors moved from scene to scene, feeding off the energy of the audience.

And if you thought show night meant the script was complete, think again. Even in front of a live audience, after each scene, the writers would put their heads together and come up with another joke. They would notice if one joke didn’t get as much of a laugh from the audience as expected, so they would put another in. The actors, amazingly, would roll with these line changes and deliver the new jokes with just as much zeal. Sometimes the new jokes scored with the audience, sometimes they didn’t. Thank God for editing too.

Being a part of this was seeing a machine running smoothly. When the audience laughed in the right places, it was the best feeling ever. Over fifty people among the crew, actors and writers all worked to present this show, and this night we got to shine. My 65-year-old father sat in the audience, and I could hear him laughing over the rest of the crowd. Even though I didn’t write the joke that brought the laughter on, it was awesome to be part of the team that entertained that many people. All along, this show, even though it was only a pilot with no guarantee of landing on the Fall schedule, felt like it was familiar, even though everything was brand new. All the work we had done felt like we had created a show that was entertaining, and that could be entertaining for years to come. That might sound strange, and I’ll agree it was a surreal feeling, maybe best described as feeling like you’ve met someone before even when they are a perfect stranger. All the cogs had fit into the wheel just as they were supposed to.

Finally, with show night over and an exhausting week of editing the show was delivered to our network. While we waited to hear about the results from the upfronts, our production company was quick to start suggesting writers for hire, particulary higher up writers. The higher the level of writer and/or producer, the quicker they are to get staffed. Agents were calling and bribing me, trying to get in our reading pile early. But, the production company filtered out all the incoming scripts. All I could think from that experience is that these agents had been heavily tracking every pilot in town since March, if not sooner, and spending time on the phone with each show they could. Younger and newer writers…they’ll get staffed last, but I’m told new writers need to be off and running with a new agent by December in order to get enough meetings in and build relationships for any consideration that spring. And being a television writer is all about having up to date spec scripts.

This season I read a million “The Office” specs, a handful of 30 Rocks, and because of our style of pilot, a handful of Will & Graces and King of Queens. Original pilots were often submitted along with a spec of an existing show.

So, for you budding/aspiring TV writers, finish those spec TV scripts now. Get a pilot or a play under your belt. Find that agent during the quiet time so when next spring hits you are off to the races. And hopefully the Upfronts will leave you behind.

Our pilot…well, we won’t be on the Fall schedule, but the network hasn’t said no completely yet. We could still get a mid-season pick-up, which means only 6 as opposed to 13 episodes, but also means, we will start this process all over again. My boss, no matter what the network decision, feels like we gave them the best show we could, and as long as she didn’t regret anything, it still feels like a job well-done.

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Guest Blog: Upfront and Behind, Part II

And so, Rouge Wavers, today we delve a bit deeper into the three-ring circus that is producing a pilot.....

Upfront and Behind, Part II
by M.

With the production machine spinning in high gear and the beginning of a two week countdown until show night, my boss hosted a casual table read of the script with the actors, giving them a chance to meet one another and hear everything out loud, and more importantly, giving her writer peers, a chance to hear the script and suggest changes. (At this point, mind you, we still didn’t have three roles completely cast.) In comedy the most important question is, does it make you laugh? And as any writer’s room can attest, there is a team of funny professors behind any comedy on television. As a writer also, what impressed me the most in this part of the process was the lack of ego involved. My boss, who created this pilot based on a personal experience, could have easily defended against any story changes, or held on firmly to jokes she wrote and believed in. But, no, if there was a better, funnier, easier suggestion made, she jumped on it. As writers, no matter how much we can be open to notes and suggestions, there is always something we love and want to hold onto in our scripts, but in this television sitcom world, anything is up for grabs. (One thing that was slightly different at this point is that this group of writers had all worked with each other before, so there was already a level of trust and comfort in the room.) These writers all sat together after this reading and made the script better. The writers assistants then double checked the script for errors and had the new drafts delivered to the actors that night.

The next day was an official network table read where the actors had to adjust to the new changes immediately, and do it in front of an audience of 75 people from the network, production company, production staff and more. After this reading, the writers all went back to the writer’s room and once again worked for hours making the script better.

For another week while the actors rehearsed on the set with the director, the writers would rewrite the script every day. Some days only one joke would change, on others whole scenes would be deleted or rewritten. I saw the ending of the pilot script, which seemed like the only point that would never budge, get completely rewritten. As far as I was concerned, the magic of the show happened in that writer’s room, where every day an evolving group of comedy writers (most with Emmy’s on their mantels at home) would take an already brilliant script and go through it line by line and make it better. They were like professional figure skaters, showing off a finely tuned skill and making it look easy. I had to bite my tongue and not chime in (knowing your place in the room is a BIG lesson, one that no one ever taught me, but I figured the “Speak when spoken to” rule was a good one to evoke here.) These writers brought the last 10 years or more of television comedy to millions of people. They were witty, warm, and intelligent; it was like witnessing the best cocktail party ever and just eavesdropping on the wittiest comedic conversations. The curtain in Oz was pulled aside and instead of great looking actors with terrific comebacks and witty one-liners, these people who I buy my morning coffee next to, who I was ordering dinner for and assigning parking spaces, they put the words into those actors’ mouths. They were really the witty comeback people, the terrific one-liners. I secretly wanted to be their friend and take them to every party possible, just to show off their quick comedic wit.

And it was these people who made a script better. And, by better, I mean, funnier. They would try out their new jokes with the actors in rehearsal, and if a new joke got more laughs, it stayed. If it didn’t, they would stay until any hour of night to find a suitable replacement.

Any writer who thinks he or she is ever done with a script hasn’t worked in television. Chances are it can always be better.

We were into the home stretch. The final two weeks of rehearsals before show night. Every minute in these two weeks counted so much that my boss had me custom make her a calendar of only these two weeks, looking at a full month was too much to process. We just needed to get through two more weeks. I ordered pre-made meals, called in the housekeeper and even dogwalker to handle my own life, because it was all going away for the next two weeks.

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Guest Blog: Upfront and Behind, Part I

As part of the ongoing series of guest blogs, the Wave-inatrix is very proud to present part one of a three part guest blog: Upfront and Behind - written by a very dear friend who just happens to be the assistant of one of the most talented, respected and dynastic showrunners in television. Interested in writing for television? It is a lucrative, competitive and intense world. Curious about just what the pilot process is like from beginning to end? Wavers are priviledged to be able to get this inside look:

Upfront and Behind
by M.

As a kid, movies were my life. I used to reenact the dance scenes from MARY POPPINS in front of the TV. I know all words to the SOUND OF MUSIC, the entire movie, not just the songs. All the girls left my house in tears at my 10th birthday slumber party when I tried to show my best friends the joy in WEST SIDE STORY. (Ignore the knife fights and beatings, girls, it’s really a love story.)

Eighteen years later………movies, and now television are still my life. Film school and a few years of industry gigs under my belt, now I work for a television producer on a studio lot. I see television shows and movies getting shot on different sound stages, even run into a few famous actors in the commissary. A bad day at work is when my parking space is blocked off by a hit show using the parking lot for an additional scene location. On a good day, I get to be a part of a team that makes a great television show.

I took this job to work with my boss, a well-established (Emmy-winning) television producer, in order to go through making a pilot with her, and to sneak in my own writing time in the off season. I’ve spent the last few years focusing on writing feature scripts, but figured if I was going to learn the ins and outs of television, might as well do it with the best. And it was quite an educational experience.

One month ago, the network executives gathered in New York to announce the Television Upfronts, a week of presentations by networks announcing to their advertisers, and the rest of town, their fall line-up. New shows are showcased, and returning shows glam up the event with celebrities, and the networks hopefully yield the promise of the great advertising dollar. What you don’t hear about are the shows that aren’t mentioned at the Upfronts. The shows biting their nails in Los Angeles, hoping for a last minute change in schedule or a late mid-season pick-up. In the short month since the Upfront Presentations, the ground has shifted dramatically for hundreds of people.

With each show that a network promises to air in the coming year, writers must be staffed, actors booked, and the production machine quickly starts buzzing into action to deliver shows for the Fall season.

However, there are also the shows that are brushed under the rug. Each network shoots almost four times as many pilots as they pick-up, and each of those pilots involves just as many people and just as much effort as the ones that make it to the Fall schedule. I had the pleasure, and stress-filled months working on one of those pilots.

My boss, known in television as a showrunner, after a decade of writing and producing hit television shows, finally earned a coveted development deal. She has the opportunity to create her own shows rather than write for someone else’s. This year, she created a new show, which she sold on a pitch to that network last fall. I was told by a network friend that somewhere around 80 pitches were bought, just in their comedy division. It is easy to assume they bought an equal number of drama pitches too. (Imagine how many pitches they heard if 80 is the final number.)

The next step was to get the chance to actually shoot a pilot. Since December my boss had been hard at work writing and rewriting the pilot script. In late January the network culled through the 80 scripts that should have been delivered and picked 18 to shoot as pilots, which was, by comparison to other networks, a large number of comedy pilots for one season. We were off and running onto the next stage by mid-February.

We started casting as soon as we could in order to get a jump start on every other show in town also vying for the same actors. The casting process is another world worth its own column, but suffice it to say, I have a whole new respect for actors. And also, hearing hundreds of actors in the same age group read the same few minutes worth of lines, I learned how important it is for a writer to be clear and concise with your words. Actors might have many interpretations, but if the writing is solid, there shouldn’t be too much room for deviation, even in comedy. Some of the best jokes in a scene remained funny fifty or one hundred times after I’d heard them, while some lines stuck out like sore thumbs at every single read. And the actors, they basically get 3 minutes to impress the room (made up of one or two casting directors, a casting assistant working a video camera, the showrunner, and me, the lucky assistant who gets to witness this process). Just as writers often only have a few pages to make an impression on a reader, a casting director will often know in moments whether an actor is right for a part or not.

I had quite a few personal thrills from some of the actors that walked through the casting office doors. Oh, I loved him in that movie. Or, wow, I grew up with a major crush on him and boy, he aged badly. Many of the girls seemed to think more cleavage would guarantee them a job, which I found pretty horrifying. And, what job do these people have that allows them to show up at a random office in Hollywood at 11:30am on a Tuesday morning looking like a slutty nurse? (which was not the role they were auditioning for, by the way.) A few up-and-coming actors and actresses blew me away and I knew they were just one right role away from a Vanity Fair cover. But, averaging about 30 actors a day is also completely exhausting. Even when a few tried to be different and stand out from the pack, often it just bothered us as we waited for them to get on with the audition. Some just inhabited the role the second they walked in the room. First impressions are powerful indeed.

This process went on for a solid month. And even with casting still going on for one of our lead roles, and another rewrite still in the works, our production team built the sets, designed the costumes, and even began sampling title music from the last week of February to mid-March. I was busy trying to keep track of all the different departments, and more importantly, keeping my boss sane and productive. If that was keeping phone calls away from her while she was rewriting, or buying time with vigilant agents, she was the engine keeping everything running, and I had to keep her running.

...to be continued

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Writing a Great Query Letter

A good query letter should go something like this:

Month, Day, Year

(four spaces)

Company Name
Person You Are Sending To
Street, Suite
City, State
Zip

(two spaces)

Dear Mr. Bigshot:

(two spaces)

Here are my bad-ass creds; A graduate of USC, I am a Nicholl's winner, placed second in the Antarctic Script Competition and make great apple cobbler. Incidentally, I just loved BOOM CHUCKA DING DONG; what a great movie!

I have written a script called NUNS OF THE PEACH ORCHARD; a romantic comedy set in 19th century Italy. Here is a great logline, which tells you who the main character is, what the conflict is, what the stakes are and has a cute little teaser that doesn't quite give away the ending; will she or won't she? Does the peach brandy win the prize? The executive or manager will have to read the script to find out.

If you are interested in a read, I would be happy to send a hard copy of NUNS or a pdf via email. Or a copy strapped to my rat, Wilmer, who incidentally, hasn't bitten anyone in a couple of years. I have enclosed an SASE for your convenience.

Warm Regards,

(four spaces)

Your printed name here, your signature in the space above

If you haven't got personalized stationery, put your contact information here, under your name. Be sure to include your phone number and email address.

********

In other words, Wavers, the first paragraph should be your bona fides. Any competition wins or placements should go here, as should any film program or impressive university you graduated from. If you have not got any filmic or screenwriting bona fides, try to find something you can say by way of introducing yourself. Obviously, having creds in the screenplay world is a great attention-getter and this is why I recommend leading off with it. Suddenly, you are taken a bit more seriously - you have something to brag about. Again, those who feel they have no creds, get creative - think of something, anything that gives you some credibility. If your script is set in a coal mining town and you grew up in one, mention it. If your script is about doctors and you're a doctor - mention it. Maybe you had an open heart surgery and now have a baboon heart - if that has direct bearing on your script - mention it. Paragraph one is about piquing interest.

If the recipient of your query has recently wrapped or even debuted a movie, mention it. It demonstrates that you're in the know and that you've taken the time to follow their career just a bit. Not in a stalky way - don't mention their new twins or that great house on Oak Lane. Your SASE may just contain a restraining order.

The second paragraph is your logline-teaser. Lead off with the title, and be sure to mention the genre and time period. Then lay your gorgeous logline on them.

Wrap it all up in the third paragraph, by graciously offering to send the script in any format should they be interested in a read. Make it easy for them, include an SASE.

Do:

Research the recipient; know their movie or client creds
Be brief
Be gracious
Get to the point
Make sure your logline rocks
Note your accomplishments or credentials
Include an SASE

Don't:

Babble
Beg
Be too self-deprecating
Make stuff up to look good
Name drop
Include pictures, cd's or supplemental materials (you think I'm kidding!)
Be annoyingly twee or clever; you're dealing with grownups

In summary, a query letter should be quick and dirty: get in and get out. Be gracious and authentic. Try to get some creds down in that first paragraph but be honest; don't exaggerate and for god's sake don't lie.

Yes, it's okay and customary to query several places at once and no, you don't need to mention that you're doing it. It's a given. Don't mention the other agencies you've queried; it's none of their business unless they want to meet with and possibly sign you. As above, do NOT name drop; Hollywood is a small town and if you're full of baloney, you're sunk. You also risk dropping a name that you were under the impression had some weight but actually that person is roundly hated, had some big failure or had a breakdown and moved to New Hampshire.

Summon all your writerly skills so that your letter is perfectly presented, graciously worded and mercifully short. Nothing will mark you as an amateur faster than blathering on - or conversely being serial-killer brief. Sound like a regular person. Write the letter YOU would like to receive.

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Don't Be Too Technical

High up on the list of things that annoy readers and clutter your script: being too technical. Please do not number your scenes. And avoid giving camera directions. I recently read a script that was covered in black - and it was all technical camera directions. The story was all but impossible to read through all the SMASH CUTS and MATCH CUTS and MOS's and CUT TO's.

Writers who are really interested in directing are greatly tempted to write and direct in their scripts. If your script is meant to be read by a mainstream production company or competition - skip it. The over-abundance of page directions and technical terms will take away from the story and irritate the person reading. Including too many technical details marks you not as an arteur but as an amateur.

It is not industry standard to submit a script with numbered scenes, for example. Perhaps writers get the idea that being very technical is okay because they've read a produced script - and it was a shooting script with numbered scenes. But a script in the formative process of being read and reviewed should keep the focus on the story.

Keep the technical terms to an absolute minimum, keep your pages as easy to read as possible; focus on the artistry of your words rather than on showing us that you know what MOS means or "sotto". It doesn't impress, it annoys.

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Horror is Dead

Wait – I mean, romcom is dead. No, no, the historical epic is dead. Every so often, prophets stand by the wayside shouting messages of doom for this or that genre. In reality though, what the public wants as reflected in box office trends is extremely difficult to predict. Impossible, really.

Is the horror genre literally dead? Horror is one of the most interesting genres to watch, as it cycles from supernatural to serial killer to tongue-in-cheek slasher to foreign film remakes and right back to supernatural. Add a few more subcategories, leave in a dark, warm place and…so on.

Eli Roth, writer of Hostel I and II just posted a lengthy letter on his MySpace blaming piracy for the fact that Hostel II tanked and is being summarily yanked from theaters in the next couple of weeks. Others posit that Roth is whining and that in reality, the short ride he enjoyed on the gore-nography train is over. The public has had enough. Is that true? It might be true of this particular type of horror - for now. But as a genre, horror will never, ever die. You can't kill it with a wooden stake. In a world numbed by internet pedophile raids, campus shootings and the ongoing carnage in Iraq, horror movies of late have taken the blood-letting to a whole new level. Horror is a barometer of our collective social anxiety. It can’t be dead. It will never die. We need horror; it defines our fears.

What is a new writer to make of predictions and proclamations about budgets and trends?

Trends:

If one takes the bird’s eye view, indeed trends can definitely be spotted at the box office. The popularity of the Japanese horror film remake had a short-lived but healthy run. Remember the profitable teen-angst run John Hughs had, starting with THE BREAKFAST CLUB? And certainly, gore-nography has had a run, with titles like SAW, SAW II, HOSTEL, HOSTEL II and THE DEVIL’S REJECTS. Zombies are back, they say, and we should be seeing a number of zombie movies in the next year or two. KNOCKED UP and THE 40 YEAR OLD VIRGIN are tapping into a boomer, reality-based comedic vein that is obviously mopping up at the box office. So should you toss your totally ridiculous, slapstick about Poseidon? Not just yet.

Where do these trends come from? Does the public get what they want or do they get what they think they want because we write it? WGA writers who are actually in the thick of it, pitching, selling and seeing their work produced are naturally very tied to trends. But newer writers hoping to break in are ill-advised to write trend-driven material. Why? Because by the time you get rep, much less try to actually shop a spec, the trend is long over. Your script might make a great sample but why settle for a great sample when you can have a good original piece of material that is saleable because it isn’t tied to the flavor of the month?

Another thing new writers really do need to pay attention to:

Budget:

As online and New Media entertainment starts to take off, less viewers are heading to the box office. This makes risk averse studios even more nervous. We know that at least two major motion pictures were scuttled last year when the studio refused to pay the star the usual multi-million dollar paycheck – it jacked the whole budget up to an unacceptably risky level.

I would not counsel a new writer trying to find a toehold to write a high budget science-fiction, fantasy or historical epic script as their entrée. Those types of movies are indeed going to be fewer and farther between in the medium-term future. Not non-existent, just not a profusion of them. Those are crowd-pleasing movies, which can mean big box office, but they are also prohibitively expensive to make, which can mean financial ruin. A spec in the low-to-midrange budget is the smart thing to write. Aim right for the middle.

A writer trying to break in needs to have as much stacked in his or her favor as possible. You want a spec that can be made without breaking the bank. You want a spec that is universally resonant and executed flawlessly.

Because here’s the not-so-secret secret: Regardless of genre, a unique, compelling story with universally resonant themes is what Hollywood is looking for. Sounds simple enough, right? Until you get about ten different opinions as to what that means. The truth is that as a writer, all you can do is continue to hone your craft; write relentlessly, promote yourself constantly and get Zen with the fact that Hollywood isn’t fair and it doesn’t make sense.

It is the Wave-inatrixe's opinion that writers are visionaries. We are the zeitgeist. Because we live it. We reflect and refract the collective attitudes, hopes and fears about love, fear, politics, aging, culture and so much more. So stay informed about the industry that you hope will feed and clothe you but write from your heart, Wavers.

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Stakes

Imagine this: a friend says to you – you’ll never guess what happened today! I was headed to the grocery store and the traffic was really bad! O-kay. But try it a different way: I was headed to my wedding and the traffic was really bad! Now we are left with a pressing question: did you make it on time? Now we are interested in the outcome because something was at stake and it wasn’t the price of cantaloupe.

Stakes in your screenplay are about exciting outcomes. An outcome is not exciting unless either something bad might happen if it doesn’t work out or something really great will NOT happen. If there’s nothing at stake then we have an ordinary day in real life. Gee, hope I make it to the gym before they close. Yawn.

Real life is often quite pedestrian. But movies are about conflict. Without conflict, your script will be labeled “soft”, stamped with a PASS and tossed into the recycling bin. Verily, Rouge Wavers would be surprised how often newer writers just don’t have enough in the way of stakes in their scripts. Memorize this: movies are about conflict. Something always has to be at stake. What if the little animals in OVER THE HEDGE can’t get back to safety? Will Woody be reunited with the little boy who loves him in TOY STORY? Stakes are – tell me what happened? Did he make it? Did she find out? Did they catch the train on time?? They are why we sit in our seats until the credits roll. They are what happens in the end.

Stakes are the engine that drives your story forward toward its inevitable end. Stakes, conflicts and obstacles are always relative to the premise of your story and to your main character. The stakes, conflicts and obstacles present in PIRATES III are excitingly appropriate for that particular premise. The stakes and conflicts in FREAKY FRIDAY are relative to that premise. And BRIGADOON. And DISTURBIA.

In SOPHIE’S CHOICE, Sophie must choose between one of her two babies in a Nazi concentration camp. Stakes don’t get bigger than that. But stakes can be funny too: what is at stake for Derek Zoolander in ZOOLANDER? Only his life’s work, his identity and his ego. That’s pretty huge for Derek.

Stakes can be the end of the world, telling the person you love that you love them, saving a life, stopping a killer, restoring an important relationship, saving the nation from nuclear war. The size and scope, the bigness of the stakes in your story should be a relative match for the premise and your main character. It would be ludicrous if the stakes in DISTURBIA, for example, were the end of the world – that’s totally outside of the premise. And remember, if you execute your pages beautifully, that an old woman’s garden will wilt and die can be a huge set of stakes – for that character. Think about the genre. Are you writing an action picture? Okay the garden really isn’t going to work. But it worked beautifully (if campily) in SILENT RUNNING.

Do some homework; watch some of your favorite movies. Press the pause button in the early part of the movie and ask yourself what seems to be at stake for the main character. Is it clear to you what the main character’s goal is? Now watch for a while longer and pause again – what is the character’s flaw? What conflicts is the character facing? What will happen if he or she doesn’t reach their goal through whatever narrative is in motion?

Remember the fundamental tenet of drama: stasis – change – stasis. Movies ARE conflict. Nobody will pay nine dollars and sit still for two hours to watch a story in which nothing significant is at stake. Check your premise; it is right there, before you start writing pages, that you need to make sure you have stakes that will drive your story. How funny it was that time you and your buddies went to Vegas doesn’t sound that interesting. Unless you went there to kill yourself. Unless you went there to count cards. Unless you went there to steal a billion dollars from the casino vault. Those are stakes.

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Submit Your Pages!

Quick elbow jab: Friday, June 15th by 8pm Pacific Time, please turn in your 3-5 page scene! Don't forget, 2 characters, light comedy, describe characters and the actor you see in the role.

Please send in proper format, preferrably in FD. PDF can work. And guys, make this your best work. This is an opportunity I am really proud to be able to offer. You might have a scene from an existing script that can be pulled for this; I don't necessarily recommend jotting out a scene on the spot - this has got to be of very high quality before I'll pass it along.

Send pages here.

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Do You Have Talent?

Can talent be taught or are you just born with it? Have you got it? How do you know?

It’s an awkward thing to talk about, right up there with prescriptions for odd body parts and the balance in your checking account. It’s easy to say other people aren’t talented but you’d never admit that you do - or don't have talent yourself. The subject engenders great anxiety; you run the gamut from suspecting you are talented to seriously doubting that. Maybe you’re not talented – you’re proficient. Can proficiency, nurtured daily, blossom into talent?

The Wave-inatrix believes that most writers with talent are born with it. And once given that gift, become 1) a savant who soars meteorically with no formal training, 2) dead to it because they are not encouraged or courageous enough to explore it or 3) doggedly committed to developing and shaping that talent until they find a way to use and express it. Wavers, we want to shoot for options 1 and 3.

Writing talent is a bit ephemeral; those who read professionally can tell immediately if a writer really has a gift or if they are just a well trained mechanic. But it’s hard to describe; it’s as if a ghost walked through you. There’s a ripple of something impossible to nail down. Proficient writers may be engaging – but not haunting. Writers with no natural knack for it, well, that’s like nails on a chalkboard.

How do you know if you have talent? Well, the Wave-inatrix not only cannot diagnose each writer theoretically but would never be so presumptuous as to make such a sweeping proclamations. Who can really define talent? Who can be the final word on that?

That said, here are some indications that you might have natural writing talent:

• You write all sorts of things not just scripts – and you always have. You have boxes, piles, notebooks and cocktail napkins covered with writing.
• You love words. You love the way they sound, you spell them correctly, you use them inventively, you look things up, you're a word stickler. Admit it, you're a word freak.
• You have been told for literally years that “you should write”. By people in the position to know, i.e., not your mom and best friend.
• You won a poetry or short story contest in grade school. It was horribly embarrassing but secretly the zenith of your 4th grade experience.
• You read a lot. In fact, you have a sliding pile of great books by your bedside. You have been banned from the local used book shop for overshopping. It's an obsession.
• You have been published somewhere; a newsletter, a small pamphlet, a magazine; doesn't matter how large or small the publication. Doesn't matter if you got paid.
• You keep a journal – and have for years – and it’s philosophic and melodic. Okay and sometimes whiny but you have a primal need to write down your feelings; you love to hear yourself write.
• You are a bit mercenary; you are strangely, stubbornly, stoically disinterested when some jackass doesn’t like your work. Unless they are an editor or teacher and your work will improve with their help.
• Sometimes your writing is intensely personal and not fit for public consumption. Other times it is absolutely directed at readers. You know the difference.
• You hear a rhythm in words; you love the way they sound together. You might spend a whole day murmuring mellifluous to yourself.
• When you write, the world stops. It’s the best thing ever and you never want to stop, even if you never make money doing it because that’s never really been the point.
• You really will never, ever, be truly convinced you have talent. Rather, you aspire to have talent.

You may need to rethink whether writing is really your talent if:

• Your grasp of language is weak and you really don’t care that much.
• You don’t read very much; who has time?
• You have never written anything but a script and you’re not interested, either. Poetry is for wusses, the last journal you owned had a key and you were 13.
• You’ve never been told that your writing really had an emotional impact on someone. And no, that "poem" on the bathroom stall doesn't count.
• You make a lot of spelling and usage mistakes – and it doesn’t bother you that much; that’s why there’s spell check.
• You’ve never bothered with a class; you don’t need to tend natural genius and besides, you'd miss reruns of The Office.
• You get defensive when anybody criticizes your writing; your writing is and always has been unassailable!
• You’re convinced you have talent and you know this because your mom and best friend have told you so.
• You're exploring screenwriting because, to be absolutely honest, you heard screenwriters can make a lot of money.

More than anything, writing is a weird obsession; we love it, we hate it, we hope to succeed, but mainly we just can't stop. Yes, it is absolutely true that some writers are more talented than others. But in the spectrum of writing out there today, everything from literary fiction to essays to how-to and cookbooks, there may be a place for you. Maybe it isn't screenwriting, but if you love to write - keep doing it and see which discipline is the place for you. Don't be hasty to judge whether others have talent unless you're being paid to make such a slippery call. If you're not such a whiz with words - work on that. Conversely, if you are a writing savant, if your grocery lists are what others would enshrine as great poetry, maybe you need some discipline and focus.

Nobody can truly say with finality who has talent and who does not. The lists above are facetitious. Mostly. In the Wave-inatrix's experience working with writers, I have noticed a strange inverse relationship between writers who claim to have talent and those who really do. The best scripts I have read were given to me tentatively and the worst usually arrive with a red carpet and fanfare. It's quite interesting to me that those most convinced they have talent are generally dead wrong.

In a world filled with great writers, large and small, published and unpublished, it is dangerous to assume you are a genius. Humility is a good thing. For those Wavers who just aren't sure, here's the thing: keep trying. Validation from a professional source, whether that be a publication, an agent, teacher or competition is incredibly valuable. Keep working on developing your writing skills but have realistic expectations. You may never be Don DeLillo but maybe you'll be Janet Evanovitch. Hey, don't laugh; she's rich. And say what you will, she can obviously spin a tale. Serially.

The Wave-inatrix is smart enough to avoid the dangerous, thorn-lined path of who is a "real" writer: Ludlum versus DeLillo, King versus Poe, Fitzgerald versus Chabon, Frey, Palahniuk, Alexie Sherman, Danielle Steele...oh, it's just going to turn into a brawl. Tastes are completely subjective but whether a writer has "talent" is easier to measure. I'm not at all a fan of William Faulkner's work. But it is universally established that he was a formidably talented writer.

Measuring one's own talent is difficult to do. Give yourself the ego-test: how much are you invested in being thought of as talented versus simply giving readers great pleasure?

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Want a Table Read?

Good day, Rouge Wavers - I have a huge opportunity for Rouge Wavers who live in the Los Angeles area (or not, read on).

Gabriel Gonsalves an actor, director, Rouge Waver and Script Whisperer friend is looking for a 3-5 page scene for use in the FILMMAKER'S INTENSIVE (July 5-29th), taught by Joan Scheckel.

The Filmmakers Intensive is a month long workshop for professionals who wish to deepen and expand their abilities to work with actors. The scene should be comedic with layered depth and feature adult characters only.

Here's the skinny:

Joan Scheckel and her filmmaking workshops are becoming known throughout Hollywood and the international film world as the crucial force behind the most exciting films being made today. Having worked with so many of the vital new voices in cinema, including Niki Caro (“Whale Rider,” “North Country”), Mike Mills (“Thumbsucker”), Mark Romanek (“One Hour Photo”), Alison Maclean (“Jesus’ Son”), Patricia Cardoso (“Real Women Have Curves”), Jeffrey Blitz (“Spellbound,” “Rocket Science”), and Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris (directors of this year’s Sundance hit, “Little Miss Sunshine”), Scheckel’s sphere of influence continues to expand.

Since 1998 Joan has coached the development of over 250 films, both in her labs and as a highly valued script consultant. Over 100 of these films have been made or are currently in preparation, including "Whale Rider," "Sylvia," "Thumbsucker,” and “Little Miss Sunshine. "

Most recently, as a screenwriter in her own right, she is the co-author of "Mirka" (with Berry Liberman), and "The Untitled Niki Caro Project" (with Niki Caro). Joan’s solo efforts include the upcoming “Miracle Elixir” and “ Island".

Read more about Joan by visiting her website.

Rouge Wavers interested in submitting pages for consideration should send pages here no later than Friday June 15th. I know it's last minute.

Gabriel is looking for a 3 to 5 page scene, lightly comedic in nature, featuring two adult characters. Please provide a brief logline, character descriptions and the actor you picture for the part.

The writer chosen for the project will be invited to the final day of the workshop to see their scene enacted. Wavers not in Los Angeles would lose the opportunity to see their scene enacted but still make the connection with Gabriel not to mention possibly Scheckel.

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Story Analyst Local 854

Most writers are aware that there are readers. But are you aware that there is a reader's guild? The Story Analyst Local 854 joined up with the National Editor's Guild in May of 2000. At that time, both guilds had a membership of 5,600. In the past, most readers were not guild members since being a member reduces the number of production companies a reader could work with from hundreds to a handful - the studios. Additionally, studio readers, while they get health insurance and benefits commensurate with a regular job have - well - a regular job. Meaning full time at a desk. Something most readers loathe.

Recently, there was a big shift within the guild relative to its relationships with production companies and as of June 11th, non-guild readers may no longer work for production companies with studio deals. Overnight, dozens and dozens of readers were out of work. Any Rouge Wavers thinking about getting into reading - think twice. The number of jobs available just plummetted and the number of readers looking for them just doubled. But it gets better: the guild is not accepting new membership. So what is a non-guild reader to do? And how will production companies respond?

The Wave-inatrix placed two calls earlier this week to the Assistant Director of the Guild to do some fact-checking. My calls have not been returned. If they are, I shall addend some pertinent facts and most importantly - the point of view of the guild to this blog post. It is my suspicion the guild is not keen to share their strategy or methodology with a non-guild member. If only I could join - oh, that's right, it's impossible and the bylines for membership are secretive and apparently completely arbitrary. If only I could fact-check and dialogue with the guild. Oh - they probably only dialogue with guild members. If only I could become a member...

So what's the upshot for writers? Will production companies with studio deals simply switch over to guild members without a hitch? We have to imagine that guild story analysts are significantly more expensive than freelance readers. Production companies are famously stingy when it comes to getting coverage in the first place. The going rate - $60 per script - is already quite low given the expertise of the readers, the hours involved and the fact that readers literally have to jump in their cars to go collect their work and in some cases to return it. So how will production companies respond to paying, say, $80 or $100 per script to guild members?

Production companies unwilling to pay guild fees for their coverage will turn to interns and overworked assistants. Insert collective gasp here. While there are plenty of perfectly nice, intelligent interns out there, reading for them is a by-product of an internship and maybe one internship among a few while they decide whether they're cut out for the entertainment business. It's a pitstop not a destination. Interns have not read numerous scripts for numerous companies for years. Interns are inexperienced, in other words, and are literally not paid - so how carefully will your script be reviewed? Again, with all due respect, I'd rather have a seasoned reader give my script a thumbs up or down than an intern from Nebraska who has read a sum total of 10 scripts before mine.

We all know how hard assistants work - and script reading is definitely part of their job description; but it is my guess that many an over-worked assistant's job just became twice as exhausting because the workload just shot up. Now how well will your script be reviewed? An assistant, no matter how tired can still identify negative and positive aspects of your script. But will they be open to really unique, extraordinary stories? Will they see your potential as writer at 12:30am in Red Bull number three?

Many people are concerned about the potential WGA strike; SAG's contract runs out months later and there has been some talk of another potential strike. But few know or care about Story Analyst Local 854. It's a small story, one nobody cares about. In the larger machinations of Hollywood it seems not to matter. And yet readers are the very first professionals to review and analyze scripts. They are the gatekeepers.

What does this mean for readers who make a living analyzing material? It means they have to go find a day job because guild membership is not an option. What does this mean for writers? It means the suspicions you already harbored, out of insecurity, that your scripts are not being read carefully might just be true.

Perhaps things are not so dire. Perhaps the guild has an inclusive plan to ensure that all readers are given their due as professionals. Or perhaps, as the Wave-inatrix suspects, this is one guild which operates in unfair secrecy and is ironically unconcerned about the quality of readers out there and worse - their welfare. If the guild cared about readers why is membership not an option? Why is there no transparency when it comes to membership? I would love to have my suspicions and prejudices about this guild dispelled - and they may well be when we can get the guild to participate in the dialogue. Hopefully we will have an update soon. Just don't hold your breath.

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Ever Thought of Writing a Novel?

Many screenwriters dream of someday writing a novel. Indeed, novel writing has been a long time desire of the Wave-inatrix but so far all I have is the title: This Shattered Life. Novels are sexy, daunting, intimidating and the ultimate validation for a writer. But how does it compare to screenwriting? What's it like?

The Rouge Wave presents another in a series of guest bloggers with interesting stories to tell from the trenches. For your pleasure and edification I present my very own screenwriting partner, published novelist, reformed screenwriter and bon vivant - JP Smith:

****

From the moment you buy your ticket to the second you sit down with your tub of popcorn and the soda you probably shouldn’t have ordered (wouldn’t a five-buck water have had the same effect? You still have to run and pee before the second reel kicks in), the experience of film is a public one. You sit beside strangers; you listen to their laughter, sometimes—gimme a break—even their cellphone conversations. And when something moves you deeply, you’re almost embarrassed to wipe away that tear. The experience of the movies—from writing a script to seeing its final product—is all about how it strikes the largest public you can reach. Writing a novel, on the other hand—something I know a lot of screenwriters and would-be screenwriters would love to try—is a completely intimate experience. What is it about writing a book that makes it so attractive?

Well, for one, your photo’s on it. And you get to hold the thing you created. And not only hold it, but unpack it from the box when you get your complimentary twenty copies, give it out to loved ones and friends, sign it when you do readings, and allow it to sit on a shelf to remind you from time to time that you’ve created something that isn’t being shown with commercial breaks and all its juicier bits censored out on Oxygen at three in the morning.

A work of prose, as the English writer Henry Green defined it, is a long intimacy between strangers. Reading is a private act. Because the experience isn’t a shared one, writing fiction is also a form of seduction. Readers sometimes speak of being caught up in a book, or deeply involved. This is the language of being in love, and the language of love is the whisper, the secret glance, the thrill of innuendo. Yet it’s all as quiet as someone putting words on a page, and someone else lifting them off with his or her eyes.

Fiction-writing is a solitary and rather haunted activity. As a novelist you have to live a little too much with yourself. You’re both creator and audience. Everything else is perks. As a writer of fiction you’re tapping into things of your past, you’re catching glimpses of the gargoyles of your subconscious; and over those two or three years you’ve grown just a little too familiar with that navel into which you’ve been gazing.

Writing screenplays is a shout as opposed to a whisper. When we write movies, we write for others—for those thousands of people who may fill seats on a Friday night to see our product. And therein lies the big difference between the two practices. It’s the difference between navigating a boat across the Pacific Ocean and rowing a canoe down a narrow river. In screenwriting there’s only one way you can go; and you’d better move fast.

Another simile: if writing fiction is like writing free verse, then writing a screenplay is like writing a sonnet, that poetic form that relies on a limited number of lines adhering to certain predetermined rhyme-schemes; a thing full of rules. In the end it’s like the difference between sitting alone in a room, staring into the fire and thinking; and walking into a party and making everyone laugh. For two solid hours.

Just as any respectable screenwriter will always go back to the great classics of cinema time and again, if you want to write novels the best thing to do is to read novels. And not just the latest bestseller. Having a solid grounding in the history of the novel and reading the great masters of prose is the only place to start. There’s a good reason why writers such as George Eliot, Jane Austen, Dickens, Tolstoy, Proust, Kafka, Dostoevsky, Gogol, Flaubert, Balzac, Graham Greene, Evelyn Waugh, Hemingway, et al. have never gone out of print. It’s because their work speaks to us even centuries after it was written. Reading such writers can teach you a great deal about how character in fiction is successfully portrayed, how tension is built, how scenes are constructed and emotions expressed. Because human nature hasn’t essentially changed, these writers can still tell us something about the lives we live even now in the 21st century. Not to go back that far in your reading is like believing movies began with Quentin Tarantino and thinking that “Citizen Kane” is just another boring black-and-white movie starring that Orson guy.

For a screenwriter about to sit down to write his or her first novel, the big realization is that fiction is all about language—the sound of things, the choice of words we use, the fact that the sentences and paragraphs we write are the driving force that makes our readers turn the pages. It’s about character, of allowing them to reveal themselves and develop over the course of several hundred pages. Of plots and subplots, and how these intertwine to create a tragic vision, or a comic one.

In movies, though, language is secondary to image: remember that the first movies were silent. A novelist can be subtle; elusive; innovative to the point of tricky and sometimes even obscure. But readers can flip back a few pages or even a hundred of them to reread, to pick up the thread. We can’t do that in a movie. We must move forward, and we mustn’t ever dare to lose our audience.

The greatest difference is that writing a novel is like an archeological dig—it’s to a large degree about exploration. You turn up bits of pottery, the odd coin, sometimes even a bone or two. By the time you reach the end you may even uncover a lost city of gold, all glint and sparkle as it’s seized by sunlight. But writing a script is all about disclosure—telling a story in a compelling, visual way that you already know in advance.

BIO:
J.P. Smith is the author of five novels published both here and abroad. An adaptation of his first novel, The Man from Marseille, was his first foray into feature screenwriting, and he currently has a script, co-authored with your very own Wave-inatrix in circulation with A-list talent. Not to mention the dark satire and action blockbuster he and Madame Wave-inatrix have recently completed as well. When he finds the time, he’s also working on a memoir.

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Ask the Wave-inatrix

Monday, Monday - yes indeed. Summer is upon us, the 4th of July is coming up and life is good. Or is it? Query letter got you down? Competition guidelines confusing you? Can't seem to find the contact information you need? Wondering how to slug a magma-filled cave? The Wave-inatrix lines are open.

Go ahead. ASK.

The Wave-inatrix will either know the answer or make something very entertaining up. Either way, you can't lose.

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Five-a-Day For Writers

The Wave-inatrix has a dear friend who recently told me that particularly on days when he feels frustrated about his writing, he asks himself – what did I do today that will move my writing career forward? And as he looks closely at that, he’s usually surprised to find that he did a whole lot of things. It’s just that like so much of life, forward movement is incremental, yes? To paraphrase somebody – most of life is spent standing in line for something. But if it weren’t for the small, pixilated steps, the larger picture can never come into focus. Every day, we are pointillist painters, Rouge Wavers. And here are the five areas of your writing life that for my money, are going to collectively bring a career into focus.

Write
Promote
Network
Learn
Live well

That’s right: WPNLL – pronounced – wipnill©

So consider adding the following to your daily regimen:

WRITE every day. You might have more than one project you’re working on; tend to at least one of them. And yes, generating ideas and spitballing is most productive and falls under this category, absolutely.

PROMOTE your material. Write and send query letters, enter competitions, follow up on calls, meetings and queries. Stay very on top of who has your material, when you’ll hear back and what new opportunities have since cropped up.

NETWORK both with other writers and with professionals where possible. If you belong to a message board about screenwriting, visit it daily seeking to build relationships. If you blog or read screenwriting blogs, visit and comment. Keep building those relationships. Are you signed up for a class? How about a one hour Learning Annex course? Is there a festival or film community gathering in two weeks? Sign up. Continually seek opportunities large and small to create, sustain and nurture relationships with other writers and filmmaking aspirants of any stripe. Networking is extraordinarily powerful. It is impossible to overstate that fundamental truth.

LEARN more about the craft and the business constantly. Follow the trades. If the Hollywood Reporter or Variety are too much to absorb regularly, read Entertainment Weekly – a quasi-trade with pull-quotes, box office and celebrity news. Subscribe to Creative Screenwriting, Script Magazine or Written By. Sign up for classes, read books and see a lot of movies.

LIVE WELL by taking care of your essential core. We writers are sensitive souls. We pour our hearts out every day. So be sure to exercise, get enough sleep, meditate or in some way return to your creative, essential self so that you can sustain and nurture the energy required to do steps one through four above. This one cannot be overstated or over-emphasized either. A burnt out writer doesn’t produce good material and isn’t fun to hang around with. Put your wellbeing before all else because everything you produce flows outward from that.

Know that life is good and writing is joyful. If this feels like work – well, it should, there’s no candy-coating that – but it shouldn’t feel like drudgery. Remember, nothing worth having comes easily. A career in screenwriting is a hard won thing.

Unlike the movies we write, real life moves at a much slower pace. But if you can, do one thing to move your career forward today. Maybe it’s that you just read this. Maybe you went hiking and had a great idea and stopped to write it down. Creation is the highest form of human expression. Tend it well.

Write, Promote, Network, Learn and Live well daily. Wipnill©.

side effects may include: productivity, career opportunities, dizziness and wealth.

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The Secrets of Dealing with Adversity

It's that time again, Rouge Wavers! No, not time for a cocktail. Not yet. Give it another hour. Geez. Buncha degenerates!

No, it's time for blog tag! And The Wave-inatrix is "it" thanks to her dear friend Scott at Filmflap. The topic comes from the aptly named Adversity University and is - wait for it - dealing with adversity.

Adversity is something the Wave-inatrix is intimately acquainted with. On a level and to a degree to which I could never have imagined. How do I deal with it? My top five self-soothers are: 1) prayer and meditation 2) swimming laps 3) getting out and seeing movies or friends 4) maintaining perspective by continuing to write and be proactive and 5) making a commitment to be a grateful optimist and not an annoying whiner; you can't lose your support system faster than by abusing it.

There's no two ways about it - it sucks to be going through adversity. You can't deny it or skip it or hit the fast forward button. A book that really helped me through a tremendously difficult time and left me with a new attitude about adversity is Pema Chodron's When Things Fall Apart.

The book left me with a priceless gift; that it is possible to view adversity from a whole new angle - as an opportunity for growth. When you think about it, it's not very often that things in our lives absolutely fall apart. The Wave-inatrix once lost everything I cared about in the space of an hour. Wow. Talk about free fall.

As you're hurtling straight down into a terrible void of tremendous upheaval or loss, you find that something interesting happens. You stop struggling and look around at the scenery whizzing past and realize - wow - I literally have nothing to lose. And in one of life's great paradoxes, there is something incredibly freeing about that.

So sure, you can have your coping mechanisms - and you should have them - but The Wave-inatrix can speak from deeply painful personal experience and say that accepting adversity as an opportunity is probably the greatest lesson adversity has to give you. It's not easy; human beings are hard-wired to suction cup onto sameness, routine, safety and normalcy with an iron grip. It flies in the face of our dna to let go and experience the free fall. We dwell in the great collective denial of a steadfast truth: adversity is a necessary and inevitable part of life.

Don't get me wrong, I'm no ascended master. Adversity sucks. You'll hit the ground and it will hurt. But you won't die. And when you do hit the ground you look around and find yourself in a brand-new landscape. Changed, chastised, wiser and stronger. I wouldn't trade the adversity I have experienced for anything in the world. And the best part is? I no longer fear it.

And now the Wave-inatrix creeps up on and tags:

Manolo the Shoeblogger
Borderline Inappropriate
Development Hell
Uninflected Images Juxtaposed
Living the Romantic Comedy

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Writing Children & Family Material

Wavers may know that the Wave-inatrix read for Walden Media for two years, reviewing children and family material day and night. This massive exposure to children’s material was a wonderful, educational experience and I was privileged to read some truly great material. Wavers who follow the trends may have heard that there is a great market right now for family material. The Wave-inatrix actually cannot comment on the veracity of that claim simply because various genres are said to be very in demand from time-to-time. But there is definitely a market for good family material, that is true enough. Hereafter, in this post, we shall refer to Children and Family material as C&F

Here are some things I learned from living, breathing and reviewing C&F material:

The “sweet-spot” when it comes to writing family material is ages 8 to 12. Kids older than 12 aren’t interested in family material and kids younger than 8 have difficulty understanding more complex plots.

The vast majority of C&F material reviewed at Walden is either an older, “classic” kids book, a brand-new book galley written by a well-established writer or work already adapted from one or the other.

Very few original spec scripts make it through the reviewing process.

That doesn’t mean your original C&F script won’t make the grade. When writing C&F material, it is crucial that the writer understand that the script is for two audiences: parents and children. For this reason, naturally, writers should absolutely avoid profanity, violence or sexual content. Scripts with those qualities are automatic passes at Walden. That doesn’t mean the material can’t address sometimes sensitive issues. The remake of FREAKY FRIDAY is a great example of C&F material that dealt with divorce and mother/daughter relationships in a funny, entertaining way appropriate for children. NARNIA had a lot of violence but in the context of the material, it was appropriate (though not necessarily for all 8-year olds) and not graphic.

Writers need to understand that the competition for writing original C&F material is quite tough because again, your competition is people like Frank L. Baum, William Goldman and Adam Gopnik, to name a few writers whose work I read while at Walden. Be that as it may, there is always room for fresh new material, even if the bar is high.

Because parents are the ones that take their children to the theater, buy the tickets and popcorn and ultimately buy the dvd, it is very important that they be entertained too. Thus the dual-audience demands of writing C&F material. SHREK is a terrific example of C&F material that is delightful for children and adults alike. Children probably don’t get what’s funny about a land called Far, Far Away but adults love those double-entendres and inside jokes.

A mistake I sometimes did see writers make is that they don’t quite realize that children are, after all, pretty intelligent. I have read scripts that were so simple and silly and nonsensical that no child with their wits about them would spend more than 3 minutes with it. Kids have gotten more and more sophisticated over time. They are still concerned about what’s under the bed, or what’s up with mom and dad, or getting revenge on the bully at school – that’s the beauty of children; the issues they deal with are very universal and timeless – but the trick is presenting those issues in a fresh and intelligent way.

All movies are wish-fulfillment but in C&F material, there are some specific fantasies that kids love to see played out. Namely that they can outsmart adults. Adults are very often either bad guys or dumb parents who just don’t get it. In any event, adults usually stand in the way of the kids. From a dramatic point of view, kids in C&F material are generally the moral compass; their very innocence makes them smarter than us. It is because adults are sullied by the experience of adulthood that we just can’t see what’s right in front of us. Over the course of the story, the children will uncover the truth and then teach the adults something. It doesn’t matter whether your story is fantasy, science-fiction, drama or comedy – children’s material is almost always about coming-of-age. About leaving innocence behind but also about embracing it for what it is.

The Wave-inatrix has an incredibly talented client who’d written a problematic Mummy-like adventure script. There were a lot of things about it that just weren’t quite working. Until we brainstormed about the material and together realized that actually, with some work, the story might be better served as a C&F adventure. Sure enough, this sparked enormous inspiration in the writer and he cranked out another draft a scant few weeks later. I was stunned at the difference in the draft. It absolutely rocks. The writer had a blast and has discovered his passion – kids adventure. Together we wrote a great query and my client has had many requests for the material.

Something I learned by having to read so very many children’s books is that actually “children’s literature” is a misnomer. Many, many kids books for the 12-up set really are fantastic reads. Reads that adults might pass right by thinking that the material is in some way childish and therefore undercooked. Not so.

Next time you're in the bookstore head to the kid's section and browse around a little bit. You'll see the Harry Potter Juggernaut section - keep walking - check out some other titles and you might just find something that will delight and reignite your imagination in ways that you would never expect. Trix aren't just for kids.

These three books particularly delighted the Wave-inatrix:

The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman (the whole trilogy is amazing)
The Black Tattoo by Sam Enthoven
A Corner of the Universe by Ann Martin

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Do You Have What it Takes?

Wavers, writing, particularly in entertainment is like running a marathon. It is to push yourself further than you ever have before, to hit the wall and burn inside because you want to quit so badly. It's punishing. And exhilarating. And it’s about stamina, determination and training. It's about staying in the race.

Aspiring screenwriters line up at the starting line, the pistol is fired and off they go, joyous and optimistic. It’s a crowded race, fans cheer, the sun is bright and life is good. Anybody can write! It's easy! Movies are fun!

But the writers thin out relatively quickly. The ones with no natural talent or willingness to develop writing skills go first. Splat. Next come the impatient and the unrealistic. Splat. Splat. Next come the writers who are ego-invested and neurotic. Splat. Splat. Splat. Next come the writers who have just grown too exhausted by the ups, downs and near-misses. Splat.

But a few writers remain. Writers with the patience of Job and an almost certifiable single-minded determination. Sure, they get tired. They want to quit. They look back at the other writers crawling off the track with a mixture of pity and envy. They begin to hallucinate. They want to lie down and breathe in the smell of sweet poppies… But they keep their eyes on that finish line no matter what. Those are the writers that make it.

It could take ten years. Can you handle that? It could take ten years, nine scripts, having a baby, needing a new car, hating your day job and your friends and parents taking you aside sympathetically and telling you you're crazy. Are you tough enough? It could take fifteen crappy meetings, a flat tire, 3rd place when you deserved 1st, 29 printer cartridges and 14 tons of coffee. Still in?

Gatorade up, everybody, and do your stretches. Are you in it for the long haul? Do you have what it takes? A support system, goals, feedback and drive? Are you taking classes, networking and writing every single day? We Rouge Wavers don’t mind if other writers stumble to the side and quit with dignity. They just made it easier for the next writer to succeed. And that writer will be a Rouge Waver who just didn't stop trying.

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Guest Blog: Talent Agency Assistant

The Wave-inatrix is proud to present yet another in my ongoing series of guest blogs. My friend, who shall remain anonymous because he too wishes to lunch in this town again, works at, suffice it to say, a very, very big deal talent and lit management company and is on a first name basis with people like Lindsay and Cameron. He was nice enough to take a few minutes to give Rouge Wavers his perspective. So without further ado -

****

Was I secretly happy last week when I found out that the script I had recommended for our client to PASS on about a year ago, was now in danger of, gasp, going straight to DVD? Okay, maybe not “happy,” but vindicated is probably pretty accurate. Do I feel vindicated now that a movie born from a script I loved has had very mixed reviews this past week, many of them blaming the direction? Lest anyone try to read between my lines, let’s just say I read for a talent manager with an A-list clientele (Oscar winners, tabloid queens, icons and everything in between; if there is anything these days) and every day I am exposed to the gamut of your hopes and dreams on a page.

I’m sure many of you aspiring writers are wondering how we get the scripts we read. I’d say depending on the client, upwards of 90% comes from the client’s agent. However, due to the nature of our clients (and my very well-connected boss) we are also referred projects. Mind you, these referrals come from trusted sources (although there are a few favors), and are often repped writers and “real” projects, but for someone without any representation and with the right connections, the referral is really your only shot in the door; we don’t deal with unsolicited material as we have more than enough material to vet already and, of course, the legal issues. But even if you have that friend in the know, I strongly caution you not to use your inside man until your material is absolutely ready because we readers tend to remember names and keep track of what we’ve read and if you’ve disappointed us once or as I have come to think of it, “wasted my precious time” (and I used to be a nice person), don’t expect us to look forward to reading your next project. How do you know if you’re ready? Read the good stuff from the top writers and see how you compare – what does theirs have that yours doesn’t. You will start to notice similarities and patterns that transcend genres. In my opinion, rising tension is the most commonly missing element of a novice’s screenplay. Not giving me a reason why this movie should be made is a close second. Another way to tell if you’re ready (caution, shameless plug) is to consult with a professional like the Wave-inatrix.

What I like? Hard to give a definitive answer except I know it when I see it and even then it’s not always the most important thing. And this should make you feel good, sort of. The first thing I look for obviously is quality, which after you’ve read enough becomes quite evident before even page 10 (this newfound skill is both a blessing and a curse as there is nothing worse than being 10 pages in at 11:30pm and realizing you’re gonna be going on five hours sleep the next day all so your boss can tell the client he should pass on this abomination because ____ (boss inserts your comments here). Then almost as important, I think: is it a good role? How would actor x fit into this role? Has actor x done this role before? Depending on the actor, is this an “awards role”? Or for maybe another actor, will this romcom help the public see actor y in a new light and broaden their appeal? Will this be a blockbuster and help persuade the financiers that actor y is worth their quote and can in fact “open”? And from there, and not necessarily in this order, the pedigree of the project is taken into account. Who’s attached to direct or produce? What have they done before? What’s their track record? What actors are attached? How is that actor doing these days - on the way up or the way down? Okay, I lied, this is what goes through my boss’s head, but he’s cool enough to let me try to figure it out and offer my opinion. I’m being groomed to do his job someday.

Even after all of these considerations, the actor will still do what they want for a million different reasons that, until you’ve worked in this business for a little while, you never would have thought possible. Sometimes it’s money. Sometimes it’s relationship or friendship closet-skeletons like former flings, estranged lovers or ex-best friends who are attached to the movie – and the actor just doesn’t want to work with them. Talk about something a writer can’t predict and has no control over.

I hope what you’ve learned from my perspective is that screenwriters basically have no control over anything EXCEPT putting their best product out there. And if you do this, I truly believe, because I’ve seen it happen, that your great script will find its way into the right hands. Why? Mostly because people in this town of favors and outsized egos crave the opportunity to be able to deliver quality material to the right person. They will say they “discovered” a brilliant new writer. So don’t worry about the unknowns; just focus on writing a great script. Be that hot new discovered writer. You’ll make my day.

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Is a Writing Partner for You?

Is writing with a partner something you've given thought to? Does it sound attractive or horrifying? Helpful or strangulating? The Wave-inatrix has actually written three feature scripts with a partner and for me, the experience has been wonderful.

Let me describe my partnership a bit:

My partner and I live on opposite coasts. So we spend a lot of time on the phone. We have different hours (by dint of time zone and habit)and we have different styles (I work in short bursts, he works for longer chunks of time) we have an age difference (all right, I'm older) and naturally we have differences in our collective experiences. But despite all that, we write very, very well together.

Here is what we do:

When we're developing an idea for a script, we brainstorm on the phone and via email. A lot. We make notes, we jot things down. We listen to each other and at this point, we finish each other's sentences. We work together in this way until we beat out the story in the form of a 12-sequence narrative. For my partner, having been a novelist, this was at first a strange idea. But now he's quite expert at it and in fact worked out our last sequential in about an afternoon - by himself. We're like evil twins; we're unstoppable. We never sleep. Not a day goes by that something isn't happening with our work.

Once we have our 12-sequence narrative beat out, it's somebody's turn to start pages. Doesn't matter who it is; we feel joint ownership over the project. We collaborate intensely, we divest ourselves of ego, we don't write anything we aren't both excited about and man, do we crank out pages. If my partner has more time to work on it then he produces more pages that day or that week. He understands that because of my lifestyle, I often have to work catch-as-catch-can, late at night or early morning. It all works out in the end.

Once either of us writes some pages, we date and save the script and send it on to the other. The first thing either of us does is review the pages already done, go through and make amendments and tweaks, then look at our 12-sequence narrative outline and write the next set of pages. And so forth. We leave each other a lot of script notes. They have become more and more entertaining. Often they are funny or frustrated or a cry for help:

*I have no stupid idea how this stupid stupid moment should work.
*There is NO way they'd serve corndogs at this restaurant.
*LOL! Coffeemate!!
*I disagree. Basqiat sounds like "basket". They'll never get it.
*Be funny if she shot him right in the ass. Too bloody?

Our script notes are mini-conversations that pepper the script. We delete them and create new ones. But the beauty part is that when one of us is stuck on something? Too tired to describe it or at a loss for any reason? We don't do it. We just leave a note.

Because we've worked together pretty intensely for some time now, we don't make committee meetings out of small tweaks. We trust each other. Though our writing styles are different, they compliment each other very well. Often, when we review pages, we can no longer tell who wrote which line. They start to blur.

For me, this partnership has been amazing. My writing time is limited but I have someone to cheer me on, kick my behind and I have someone to pass the baton to when I'm just out of juice on a given day. Working with a partner, like any relationship is not a completely easy, carefree thing. But imagine how much more material a well-oiled partnership can produce. We scare ourselves. And yes, we have a partnership agreement through our attorney.

The commiseration factor is worth its weight in gold. We worry together, we strategize together and we keep our collective spirits up. When something doesn't go our way we have each other to talk it over with. When something wonderful happens, we are proud of each other and of our partnership as a whole; having a writing partner means not feeling quite so alone in this whole rag and bone shop business.

Here are some things to consider if you're looking for a partner:

Choose someone:

• who is your intellectual and writerly equal.


• who you can argue with and not stay mad


• who is committed to the project and to a career


• who acts professional and takes this damn seriously


• who has a nimble and flexible mind; compromise is necessary for the greater good of the project


• whose judgement you trust. You might not always agree - but you trust the intention
  

Your writing partner doesn't have to live nearby, they don't have to share your writing style (exactly) but they do have to be someone who adds to the sum of your own writing in a positive way. It's not always easy - we've had our moments - but we share something crucial: a dead-ahead determination and lucky us, personalities and writing styles that blend very well.

Do NOT work with a writing partner if:

• it's a short-term solution to get a project done quickly


• you don't admire and respect their writing ability; you must be a mutual fan club


• you don't take criticism well and get defensive; this is very collaborative


• you don't share the same goals for the project

If you're considering partnering or already are, make it legal, make it professional and let 'er rip. Writing is usually a solitary endeavor; having a partner breathes air into what can be a lonely experience. If you work alone and always have and cannot imagine sharing the experience, don't do it. But when you get to the point of taking meetings and developing your material with executives, the ability to be articulate, collaborative and social will serve you very, very well.

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The Rewrite Plan

Here is a strategy for avoiding what hobbles so many aspiring screenwriters - writing in circles. What happens is that writers start rewriting without a plan or direction – they just start tweaking pages, starting on page one and then going forward. It’s like taking a small hammer and chipping away at the interior beams, walls and supports of your building before taking a long hard look at the blueprint. Before long you find yourself in a cloud of sheetrock dust - whoops, that was a load-bearing wall. When jumping into a rewrite it is crucial to have a plan and a focus. Do not tweak ad infinitum. The results are never good.

So here’s what the Wave-inatrix recommends to avoid this Wagnerian cycle of doom:

Get feedback
Group the notes by category and commonality
Review your premise
Breakdown the script by sequences
Review and rewrite each sequence, correcting the elements as needed

You’ve written your first draft. You get feedback - from more than one intelligent, supportive peer or perhaps from one professional you really trust and respect. Know this: no matter what feedback you get and how you go about implementing it, expect that at least 50% of your script will either be tossed or rewritten. That number is actually on the low side. But expect it. Writing IS rewriting.

Next, look at the notes and group the comments by element:

Premise
Character
Dialogue
Antagonist
Subplots
Ancillary characters
Narrative
Structure
Logic/world
Theme
Set up
Resolution

What do your notes have in common? Did everybody complain about the arc of your main character? All right, then it’s probably a problem. Did everybody uniformly comment about logic or structure? Ditto. Did somebody complain about theme but nobody else did? Okay then they are clearly a jackass. The Wave-inatrix kids. If you have a solitary note that nobody else mentioned, go with your writer's gut - does it ping at all? Or does it feel way off base? Remember, always be in service to your story, not your ego. Use every single note to improve your script. If you must disregard the note, disregard it after at least some thought.

Now re-examine your premise full stop. You likee? It’s working? Are the problematic elements you’ve organized connected to the premise? Or to the execution of the premise? If it’s the premise, you habba bigger problem than you think. This means you literally need to go back to the premise and work with it until you have a great one. You might have to get rid of a whole lot of pages. Maybe you need to kill some darlings.

The Wave-inatrix must pause here to emphasize that there is not one page that you wrote that was a waste of time. Delete pages for the greater good but recognize that all writing is an exercise for you. Sometimes what isn’t working is more instructive than what is. Be unafraid, Rouge Wavers. But we digress.

You have gotten feedback, you have organized the notes by element looking for commonalities. Now it’s time to take action. But what’s this – you don’t have an outline to refer to?

A stupid outline? Why? Because your outline gives you a bird’s eye view of your script. The outline is the blueprint, the pages are the execution of that blue print. Looking at your outline, you can much more easily locate and pinpoint the various elements of your script.

Say you didn’t listen to the Wave-inatrix, say you just up and wrote the script and don’t have an outline or 12 sequence narrative. Firstly, no pudding for dessert, and secondly, it’s not too late.

Get out a blank piece of paper and simply describe in about 2 or 3 sentences, what happens every ten pages. This doesn’t have to be poetic, you’re simply creating a road-map of your script. You are essentially creating what some writers call a “beat sheet”.

Now, return to the list of problematic elements according to your feedback. Then look at your outline. If one of the issues was with set up, go to your first two sequences. Because that’s where set up is rooted. If your problem was with character arc, look at each sequence and literally chart your character’s arc, up, down, forward and back. Use colored pens. Do whatever you need to do. This is not a test. But you are striving to take a bird’s eye view and you are striving to stay organized. Do not fall prey to the temptation to just go straight to page 17 and fix that cool dream-sequence. No. Handslap. Stay focused.

Rewrite your script every ten pages at a time. Review each sequence for a beginning, middle and end. View each ten pages as a mini-movie. Does the logic add up in that ten pages? How about the next ten pages relative to the first ten? Is your character changing from one sequence to the next?

Because everything in scripts is incremental, breaking your material down into sequences is a much simpler approach than trying to do your rewrite from page one on without a focused map of just where the issues are.

No rewrite, no matter how focused and organized is perfect. Sometimes in rewrite you’ll unearth totally unexpected ideas and directions. What you don’t want to do is to write different scripts each time you write, adding layer after layer until you have an unrecognizable goulash that bores you – and then you quit. And you’ve got scriptus interruptus again. Stay focused, stay organized and break your script down into manageable sequences. Whether that’s every ten pages, every five, every eight – whatever works for you, which is the message that, the Wave-inatrix hopes, underlies all of this malarkey. It’s what works for YOU. But if you’ve had trouble staying on course with your rewrites, it’s certainly worth giving this method a try.

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