Questions From the MailBag:

Rouge Waver Hazeem sent in some really great questions and Script Departmentpartner Andrew Zinnes took a few minutes to answer them:

Question:
When screenwriting people refer to “moving the story forward” do they just mean “moving the story to the climax?” If so, how does a scene where the character fails to progress on their main goal or retreats/moves further away from it possibly “move the story forward”? How does a thematic scene move the story forward?

Andrew:
Yes, in broad terms "moving the story forward" means having the plot constantly progress until the end. There should be no scene in the film that doesn't keep propelling the story onward. A thematic scene as you mention would help move the story along in a number of ways. The two most common would be advancing a character's internal development or to show on a macro scale how the world the character lives in is changing or to give it context. A good example of the first comes in FARGO when Marge has drinks with that Asian man who was a friend of hers in high school. At first, we think, "Why is this scene in the film? It has nothing to do with the plot." But when Marge learns that he has been lying to her - that he isn't what he seems - she now thinks that Jerry (William H. Macy) might not be what he seems. Then she goes back to his car lot and all hell breaks loose. The second way is a little more difficult to explain as sometimes they come at the impetus of the director. But one that broaches it comes in PRETTY WOMAN when the homeless person at the beginning and the end of the film talks about "how we all have dreams." He plays no part in the film plot-wise - he is merely there for theme.

Question:
A directing book of mine (still related to screenwriting) mentions that “narrative beats” need to be articulated by the director/screenwriter. These are “units that progress the narrative.” If I’m writing a scene, what is something that “progresses the narrative?” This is similar to the question above.

Andrew:
I am not 100% clear on your question, but from what you are saying, yes they are the same. My guess here is that directors (especially those that come from music videos and commercials) sometimes get hung up on creating interesting images rather than enhancing the writing and working with actors. This sounds like a warning to them to make sure you have the story coming through instead of letting the cool digital T-rex save your ass.

Question:
I’m also having trouble with the idea of what, exactly, is important information for the audience. Everything in a screenplay, since it’s motivated and somewhat relevant, can be said to be important to some degree. What information, exactly, is most relevant? The fact that my character makes mention of a family member she hasn’t visited in a while to another character is important in giving her a past relationship to make her human/real but does this information “progress the narrative”? How does Malcolm in “The Sixth Sense” failing to get his objective in the scene where he plays the “game” with Cole move the story forward? Is it because it contributes to his growth later and this growth causes him to succeed?

Andrew:
Keep this one simple thought in mind and it will help clear things up: film is a visual medium. If you can't see it on a movie screen, then it might not be all that important. Meaning - really internal stuff about how a character is feeling is better for a novel. And yet you have to get your characters' internal feelings out on the screen in order for them to appear three dimensional. Your question about the family member addresses this very issue.

At first blush it sounds like this might be an Act 1 beat in which case it is setting things up. Got to have a starting point if you want to move forward! If it comes in the middle then it probably is more secondary because it is telling us the character's state of mind as they move through the story. That is how you get internal information out on the screen.

As for The 6th Sense reference - the only way Bruce Willis is going to get to the bottom of Cole's problem and thereby solve his issue is to get Cole to trust him.
That is what the game is intended to do and if memory serves, Bruce fails to get Cole to sit down next to him. But Cole does end up liking Bruce and begins to open up to him later.

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Sunday, Sunday

We have had a large influx of new Wavers lately so for everybody's sanity, I have (re)organized all RW posts from day one, adding some new categories and deleting redundant ones. So hopefully the Rouge Wave archive is more organized and convenient.

Are there Wavers, old or new, who have any topical requests?

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Hopping Against Hop

By Bart Gold

Good day, Wavers. I’ve been trying to find a good spot to chime in here for a while. I never thought my debut in a screenwriting blog would be inspired by theatre.

Last night I joined my friend Julie at the Sacred Fools Theatre to see a performance by the Magnum Opus players: who perform unsolicited screenplays in horrible condition which have been sent to an unnamed mainstream Hollywood film company. Last night’s masterpiece: Abigail’s Choice.

The players stunned us both by being off book, performing about ¾ of the script’s body as a well rehearsed play, with a stately gent in a robe reading the stage directions off to one side and occasionally describing what occurred during portions which were omitted for time.

Within a few lines of the opening, the nature of the script was painfully clear. Mis-formatted, awkwardly worded and full of unnatural-sounding dialogue with tons of spelling and punctuation errors. And every gaffe was performed, as written, by the cast.

If the line was written: “I was hopping you would comeby?”, then that’s how they pronounced and punctuated it. If the writer overused capitalization in dialogue, or introduced a character incorrectly by capping the name in dialogue, then the actor would say those words extra loudly. “You remember that guy JOHN WALLACE, 37?” If the wrong character name was written above a line of dialogue in the script, the wrong character would suddenly appear in the scene. And if the intended emotion of a scene were stunted, paced slowly, repetitive or just plain strange, then that’s how it was delivered.

The show is hilarious. Julie and I have seen some version of every error from Abigail’s Choice in one screenplay or another, but never in such a high concentration as exists in that script. It's like Mystery Science Theatre for Spec Scripts. I’m sure we’ll both go back to see the other movies in the repertoire.

As Julie and I discussed it afterwards, it was clear how it struck us both what an invaluable lesson this performance would provide for newer screenwriters. Every aspiring writer should know that this show provides a very good approximation of how disorienting it is to read a screenplay with errors in it. And while you’re probably there to laugh, if you really think about the story’s meandering structure, there are also great cautionary lessons about how not to craft a compelling narrative.

We’re hopping to see more of our fellow LA-based Wavers at future shows. Or if you’re out of LA, one could always hop that Magnum Opus forms a touring company.

Bart Gold has been a member of the WgaW for six years, and has written for Universal Pictures, ABC and PBS. He has also has over a decade of experience analyzing scripts for such producers and directors as Jerry Bruckheimer, Brett Ratner, Richard Donner, Wendy Finerman, Cinergi, Dreamworks Animation, New Line, New Regency and Orion. He is available through The Script Department.

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Every Tom, Dick and Harry

How much thought do you put into naming your characters? Some writers are fastidiously obsessive about it, naming characters in almost ritualistic ways - you wouldn't believe the stories I have heard:

Louella starts with an "L", right? And so does LOUISIANA and if you spell that backwards, it's Anaisiuol which is the name of the village in France where my grandmother was born and IN that village, there really WAS a myth of a night-roaming elk with a thirst for blood! Uh, yeah, okay.

Name your characters in a way that inspires you. If Louella brings up all sorts of feelings about grandma and France and elk, and that fuels where this story is going, go for it.

Because we are writers we know that words have a musicality to them. And certainly, names connote qualities, and images, don't they? No offense to any Wavers, but how smart does Dwayne sound? How sweet does Rebecca sound? How bitchy does Courtney sound? We make associations, either in pop culture or just simply by the sound the name makes when it rolls off the tongue. Duh-wayne. Twangy, simple, it sounds like a guy from Arkansas.

There is no one, preferred, smartest way to name your characters, in fact, I am curious about the method Wavers use. But in my experience as a reader, here are some of my thoughts, things that stand out to me when I read:

THUMBS DOWN
Writers who name characters in a rural setting hick-names like Wayne, Dwayne and Louella. This is 2008, folks, and how stereotypical is that?! If you have a character living in NYC or LA whose name is Wayne and maybe he has a slight accent - okay that I can go for because now at least you're setting up a fish out of water. But still, not everybody who lives in the country and specifically the South is a hick with a name straight out of an episode of Hee-Haw. And if you're too young to get that show reference - it was before country music was remotely cool. If you could call it cool now.

Writers who name characters glaringly obvious names: the serial killer named Damon Killough, the temptress named Josette L'Urid. The macho, temperamental Italian shoemaker named Manolo Gotti. The goody two-shoes named Faith Hart. You think I'm kidding, you think I make this stuff up.

Writers who name characters by glancing out the window at the mail guy going by. Bob, Mike, Ted, Joe, Steve, Cindy, Tina, Susy - every name in the script is so ordinary they blur together and just don't stick.

Two names from the television slate:

Rebecca Freeley on Miss Guided - it works, it's perfect.
Lucy Spiller on Dirt - overkill, we get it.

THUMBS UP
Characters with names that connote characteristics in a subtle or ironic way. What if the the temptress was named Faith or Hope? Okay that's kind of interesting, isn't it? That means her mom named her this wholesome name but Faith/Hope rebelled against that. It connotes a backstory, doesn't it? What about a violent mafia guy named Carol? Ahhhh that's pretty interesting.

What do you name your characters? What is your reasoning or methology? Do you have a methodology or do you just give them names you like, names of family members or neighbors? What if you named your antagonist after the kid you hated in grade school? If that evokes some feelings in you, the writer - that can work. But what will it evoke for the reader or the audience?

Postscript:

Rouge Waver D. Montoya has suggested two great character name resources, The Baby Name Wizard and Behind the Name. Big cupcake for D. Montoya!

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Outlining Kills Spontaneity!

Or does it?

Have you been to that place, Wavers? That place when you start to outline the broad strokes of your script when suddenly all the gears in your brain start whirring and you keep getting sidetracked with details like one line of dialogue that would be cool in some scene you haven’t yet written? Like silver fish darting in the depths of the ocean, Cool Bits are elusive and we fear that if we don't net them now - we'll lose them. And the truth is, we might. So what do we do?


Something I often tell my clients is that they need to remember to eat their vegetables. Five servings a day, how you doing on that, Wavers? No, what I really mean by that is that screenwriters get really excited about those GREAT setpieces, lines of dialogue, action sequences in super slo-mo or super romantic moments. But you cannot forget the brass tacks of the story. I resisted outlining for many years but it was after bitter and painful experience that I learned that outlining is my lord and savior. Metaphorically speaking. Oh Jesus, now I'm going to offend somebody. And Wavers - would it be the Rouge Wave if I didn't use about a thousand mixed metaphors daily? No. It wouldn't. Fish, vegetables, brass tacks, Jesus. It's just another day at the Rouge Wave.

But. Outlining is a good thing, let's put it that way. In fact, I would never, ever, write a script without an outline. Your outline is your net.


So what about the Cool Bit Silver Fish? Doesn't outlining quash the creative process? Isn't it boring? Won't you forget that little silver fish that swam briefly into your line of vision while outlining the second act and said - write this! This is a cool bit! Wavers, those little silver fish of spontaneous creation are part of the wonder and the mystery of writing. But they are also distracting as all get out. Follow the silver fish of Cool Bits at your own peril for soon you will be like Nemo, lost in a murky sea of silver fish - with no structure in sight.

Is there a compromise between our right and left brain impulses when writing?

WWBD? The answer lies, as Buddha said, in the middle road. The details, the cool bits, the lines of dialogue that come to us when we’re driving or in a meeting or listening to how our partner's day went or folding socks should not be missed. Nor should they distract. There is a way to net the silver fish.

Think of your outline as your fishing net. When you are working on your script, whether you are in outline stage or actually into pages, it’s helpful to buy index cards for just this purpose. Note at the top of the card, which act or sequence the Silver Fish goes in, then jot it down. Keep the cards in order by act or sequence and put a rubber band around them. Carry them around in your purse or back pocket so they are available when inspiration strikes.

And when you’re working on your outline and feel the urge to jot down a cool bit – go ahead and do so. Jot it, label it and file it. Get that silver fish in the net before it swims away. Then get back to that outline which is the shape that will not only hold the silver fish but also give the whole script its shape.

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But, Do I Really Need an Agent?

by Margaux Froley Outhred

TV writing is a job where writers often have to work their way up the ladder. More so than in features, where, if you are lucky enough to write a million dollar spec idea, you are thrown into the feature pool. In TV there are a lot of annoying double standards. To get staffed on a TV show, the writer must show the showrunner writing samples which should be at least one spec of an existing show and also something, like a pilot, that shows their original voice. To be staffed on a show, the writer must prove that they can mimic someone else's voice (the showrunner's), and still bring something new to the table. (It's really about walking a fine line here.)

Now, how much do you know about showrunners? The quick answer is that showrunners are the people who create a show and then often will be the ones who run the writer's room, along with making the majority of decisions on the production of that show, from casting to costumes....the showrunner really does prove that TV is a writers medium. However, no network is just going to let anyone be a showrunner. (Most pilots don't get made for less than $1 million..so, you have to have a track record for them to put $1m in your hands.) In your case, you would have to have been working in TV for awhile to be considered as a showrunner.

There are cases, however, of less experienced writers getting paired up with existing, larger showrunners. However, those people often get pushed to the side...those larger showrunners, the majority of the time will pay you for your idea and basically get you to go away. If you are lucky, and have the track record behind you...you would get hired to be a higher level writer on the series.

Agents really are the name of the game in TV because they are good at getting people into those staff positions so they can work their way up to being showrunners one day. Again, the annoying double-edge sword rule is that you have to have good original material to land the agent in the first place. In TV, lots of the writing you do is what gets you hired to do more writing, as opposed to that writing really being a viable project to sell...at least to start off.

If you have written a sitcom that is GREAT, pair that with a solid and current spec or two, and you would be ready to shop to agents. If you land at a big enough agency, they MIGHT be able to pair you with a showrunner to push your pilot further, but the pilot would have to be spectacular (most showrunners prefer to create their own shows than hear others)..and the agency would probably want you to prove yourself as a working writer first. Getting you the experience it takes to be a good showrunner is key...because sometimes a showrunner can start off big, but lack the experience and know-how to keep a show going and how to run a staff. (which ends up being career suicide as opposed to a slower but safer rise to the top.)

Most studios and networks couldn't even read your pilot for pure legal reasons, so yes, you would need an agent, or a pretty well-known lawyer, to get your pilot in the door. But again, it wouldn't quite be worth it unless you have the chops to be a showrunner now. A pilot might serve you very well for staffing season, but again, should be paired with a current TV spec also.

This is a tight year for many TV shows and agencies also, keep in mind, (because of the strike), so, this could be a great year to use the strength of that pilot to enter into some of the Fellowship programs in town. I think both Disney/ABC and Warner Bros. want original material for their submissions. Having the pedigree of one of those programs really helps give you an upper hand among the competition.

-and Margaux should know. A recipient of the Warner Brother's Television Fellowship in 2007, she is busily working on a pilot and a one-act play. Her services are available through the Script Department. And to all the boys who continually tell me they have a crush on Margaux - yeah, you would. Too bad she's happily married to a handsome poker afficionado. :)

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Magnum Opus Theater in Los Angeles

I just couldn't resist posting this for those local Wavers who might have the inclination to attend this performance. The Wave-inatrix will definitely be there this Friday evening when the show begins at 11pm. Laughter is the best medicine.

Sacred Fools presents Magnum Opus Theatre — the return of a long-running show with an ardent cult following. The premise is simple: a cast of talented performers produces staged versions of terrible film scripts sent to Hollywood studios by aspiring screenwriters, with hilarious results.

For more information CLICK HERE

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Do You Need Professional Help?

Sure as the rite of Spring that Nijinksy evokes, once a year on the screenwriting message boards, a furious debate begins – whether using a screenwriting consultant is a good thing or whether screenwriting consultants are craven, blood-sucking vultures out to steal your money and laugh long into the night as they sip absinthe and boast of ripping off “newbies” and ordering more and yet more caviar.

Years ago, when I was a “newbie", I used several screenwriting consultants. I was able to afford the expense and it never occurred to me that I was being preyed upon. In fact, I found the notes quite useful and I credit them, to no small degree, in being part of my evolution as a screenwriter. I guess I’m just a cornfed farm girl Pollyana but I saw (and see) no difference between a professional who gives notes and feedback on scripts and a professional who does my taxes. It’s something I need help with, just like changing the oil on my car or choosing the best cabernet. I aver to the opinions of professionals and of course, I aspire to learn from them.

A client said to me recently that he hoped that eventually, his writing skill set would make him a better judge of his own material. And that’s true; the more experience you have, the better you will become not so much at spotting problems but avoiding them in the first place. If you learn from past mistakes and if you write continually and read other scripts often.

But you can never be truly objective of your own work. I don’t think any writer ever gets to the point when they don’t need feedback. Feedback is a beautiful thing; it sometimes points out the obvious, it sometimes reveals opportunities that just never entered your mind and most importantly, it puts some distance between you and your material. Never doubt the power of a set of fresh eyes.

But I’m a consultant, of course I’m going to say this, right? Do you want to know the truth? I still get feedback on my scripts – from paid consultants. And I’ve given feedback on scripts to screenwriting consultants who are my peers. I read and evaluate scripts every day but it doesn’t make me immune from needing help myself. Because MY script is my baby, my little genius, my personal emotional investment. So I need another set of eyes to tell me where I’m falling down.

In the perfect world, if you have friends who are also screenwriters, who are on the same level of writing as you are, whose opinions you trust and who are plugged in to the industry – go for it. But for many, this perfect storm of skill, opportunity, proximity and trust do not exist. So they turn to people like me.

As for me, when I need notes, I use a pen name and assign my script to one of my colleagues and I include a check. What – like they’re going to tell the boss lady the script sucks? This is too important for me to take that chance. Plus, my ego can handle it. Yes, yes, my story analysts get a little cranky when I reveal that I am in fact, the Cheryl Greenblatt whose script they just read. But I want absolutely honest notes. I am happy to say Cheryl Greenblatt, girl genius that she is, got a “consider” last go-round. Maybe someday I'll get her autograph.

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When Good People Write Bad Scripts

You know you have a drawer full of them. Bad scripts. And like your ratty, stained underwear, you keep them surreptitiously, not exactly knowing what to do with them. All that work – what, throw that in the recycling bin? What if, one fine day, you realize your animation script, STUMPY THE ONE-LEGGED FLAMINGO is box office gold?

In theory, every script we write is better than the last, right? That’s the hope, anyway, is that we learn something from every script. But – do we? How do we learn something about scripts we leave in our wake if we don’t revisit them and identify what went wrong?

Sometimes, it’s easy. You flip through it, read your atrocious dialogue and roll your eyes. Hey, that was ten years ago – it’s not worth discussing. But how about more recently? Exactly why didn’t ROMANCING THE ZYGOTE place in a single competition? Why were your queries unanswered? If your answer is a quick, certain “Because zygotes are too political.” and you maybe flush a little when you say it and your eyes dart around – you need to take a deep breath here.

Why, exactly, did the script garner zero traction with competitions, agents or managers? Because until you know, Wavers, you’re doomed to repeat the same mistakes.

For newer writers here is the checklist of just a very few reasons why your script may not have fared very well:


1) The premise was one or many of the following:
Soft
Unoriginal
Weird
Boring
Totally self-referential

2) The characters weren’t three-dimensional

3) The structure was loosey goosey (that’s straight from McKee)

4) The narrative was not compelling; not enough conflict, not enough at stake

Go ahead, open that cobwebby drawer and take your old scripts out into the light, which is the best disinfectant.

Spend a few minutes flipping through your old script(s). Become one with the pages. How does the dialogue read? Does the plot make sense? Are the pages engaging? Do you find yourself thinking HMMM I should rewrite this with my newly acquired experience and skills, or do you cringe and wonder what the heck peyote casserole you apparently ate the night before you wrote the script? Identify what didn’t work and check in with yourself – do you know better now? Is there a lesson STUMPY is just waiting to impart?

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Guest Blog: Robert Chomiak

Happy Post-Easter and Pre-Passover, Wavers - Spring is glorious, is it not? Okay maybe that's a bit too cheerful for a Monday morning. Nonetheless, today we are lucky to have my friend and Script Department client Robert Chomiak, one of the co-writers of FIDO tell us a little bit about his experience with the project. Read and enjoy.

***
You in it for the long haul?
By Robert Chomiak

Everyone knows it. Patience and perseverance are essential in the march from script to silver screen. I can tell you from personal experience this is true with Fido. Some claim our 2007 zom-com was irrefutably inspired by Shaun of the Dead, but it is a sure bet that Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright came up with their idea after we banged out an early draft in 1994. You read that right. 1994. It took more than a decade before our film was green lit by Lions Gate in 2005. In the intervening years there was something in the neighborhood of 30 to 40 drafts. Talk about patience and perseverance. However, when I learned the script had attracted talent like Carrie-Anne Moss (the ass-kicking Trinity from The Matrix), Billy Connolly (the Scottish comedian who held his own alongside Judi Dench in Mrs. Brown) and Dylan Baker (who turned in a courageous performance as a pedophile psychiatrist in Happiness), the elephantine gestation period felt worth it.

According to William Goldman, the first day on the movie set is the most exciting day of a screenwriter’s life, and the most boring is every day that follows. The first part certainly held true for me. I got to drive my rental up to a P.A. and hear him radio that the writer was arriving on set. It didn’t register at first that he meant me. In the production warehouse were interior sets of a home, and the moment I walked in, Carrie-Anne Moss was delivering one of the lines I had written, which nearly made me buckle at the knees.

I was like a kid at Disneyland watching hundreds of people hustle and bustle to make our picture. It was dizzying. For years I was used to seeing the film on the page. Now it was all real, all around me. I could barely get a coherent sentence out of my mouth. Especially upon learning that the head of Lions Gate had arrived for a one-day visit to the set. As if I weren’t nervous enough, I had to pretend to be clever while shaking Peter Block’s hand and spluttering my gratitude. He declared that Fido was one of the best scripts he had ever read. I became adept at stealing an unoccupied director’s chair to hang out with the talent. Carrie-Anne I discovered to be quite humble and shy. She insists on checking every picture taken of her, well aware that an unflattering image can affect a career. Though known for his standup, Billy Connolly was unable to utter a word as the titular zombie character. The moment cut was yelled he would launch into some shtick and brag about not having to learn any lines. Dylan Baker always came in completely prepared with some new bit of business or method of delivering an innocuous line to mine even more comedy. These people whom I was used to seeing all my life as three-story projections were sitting right across from me talking about their New York parties and vacation plans and real estate woes. Without a doubt, that first visit to the set was the most exciting day. Well, if you don’t count the red carpet premiere at the Toronto film festival, with us newbies trying to act like it was the most natural thing in the world to climb out of a limo. You probably have to do it 30 to 40 times to get it down pat. Bet it takes patience and perseverance.

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Oops.

by PJ McIlvaine

Oops, I did it again. No, I didn’t flash my Britney in public. I pitched a script that I have yet to write.

I know, I know. I do it to myself every time. I let my excitement and enthusiasm overrule my common sense. Often enough, indeed, most of the time, it’s not a problem. I may pitch an idea to a producer and never hear back. Or they write back weeks, months, years later, with no thanks, not interested, not for us or never darken my e-mail address again or I will sic a top secret government agent on you (or some permutation thereof).

I’ll pitch ideas to my pals, the cats, and the cashier at the supermarket. If they jump and down for joy, I know I have a winner. If their eyes glaze over and they nod off into suspended animation, I know it’s a dog.

This time, even as I wrote the e-mail, I was hesitant. I’d carried this idea around in my head for centuries. Then I thought what have I got to lose? I’m sure you can surmise what happened next. Within seconds I got a positive response. Seconds! I slunk away to beat myself silly with a baseball bat.

I related my sad tale of woe to some of my other writing pals. They laughed. They know me all too well. Me, the woman who wrote a 120 page script in nine days. All I had to do was sit down…and write, right? This should be like Rachel Ray and 30 Minute Meals. I already had a producer interested. I mean, what more could I possibly want (besides Sean Connery a silver platter)?

I wanted a script. Like last week.

Once again I put aside my contemporary family in crisis drama, the one I’ve been struggling with for weeks, and I dive into the new script. I start out like a machine gun during the Valentine Day Massacre. However, there’s one slight problem. It’s in a genre I’m not really familiar with and I haven’t seen the movie that the producer mentioned as a template.

No problem, I tell myself. I’ll just get a copy of the movie script and study it like a college student cramming for mid-terms. A great plan, except that getting a copy of this particular script turns out to be a royal pain in the tush. I might as well have decided to break into Fort Knox.

In the meantime, as I continue searching for this impossible script, I get the idea for another script. Oh yeah. As hard as I try to get this second idea out of my mind, I can’t. I finally give in. I can handle it. I’ll work on two projects at the same time. No big deal. I’ve done it before.

Finally, on E-Bay of all places, I find a draft of the movie script in question. I also rent the DVD so I can get a better idea of what made this movie a cultural phenom. I alternate between writing the first idea and the second idea.

Unfortunately, the writing on the second idea is going a hell of a lot better than the writing on the first. I’m flying on the second idea; I can’t spit the pages out fast enough. On the first idea, I’m crawling like a baby. Then it hit me: with the second idea, inspiration had taken over and I was writing it on auto pilot. I was the zone. With the first idea, I’d already written it in my mind and knew it so well that the actual, physical act of writing it was an afterthought. It was like telling a joke one too many times. How do they keep it fresh and exciting? Now the joke was on me.
To make matters worse, I made the mistake of actually seeing the movie the producer mentioned. My husband and I looked at each other in horror. “Surely, “he muttered as he shook his head, “your idea has got to be better than this.”

Meanwhile, I get a first draft of the second idea down in record time. I return to the first idea and exhort myself to tap into that huge well of dedication, affection and exhilaration that I had for the second idea. At this point, my knee pads need knee pads.

All is not lost, however. Another producer responds to one of my queries. She wants to read one of my rom-com’s (thank God this one is already written). I do some research. As it turns out, I have an idea that would fit this producer like a Chanel original. I just have to write it.

I think I’m going to need a bigger baseball bat.

PJ McIlvaine is the writer of the highly entertaining, critically acclaimed, Emmy nominated Showtime original movie MY HORRIBLE YEAR with Eric Stoltz, Mimi Rogers and Karen Allen. She is available through The Script Department

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Do Our Movie Tastes Define Us?

I don't know how many Wavers saw DONNIE DARKO, but the Wave-inatrix loved that movie. And I loved ACROSS THE UNIVERSE and of course I could go on and on. But I can fully appreciate someone who didn't go nuts over either movie. Maybe you're not a Beatles fan. Or maybe you are and ATU was sacrilege. I don't care, I loved it. Maybe DD was just too weird. Okay, I'll grant you that - it was pretty weird. But oh so damn cool.

But when somebody I had newly met said to me that they hate Woody Allen, time slowed down for a few seconds and I thought - oh - okay, I don't think I can be friends with this person. I mean, if you don't get Woody, if you don't get the particularity of his humor, intelligence and world view, then...well...it's over between us. BROADWAY DANNY ROSE - really? This is not brilliance? THE PURPLE ROSE OF CAIRO? How can you not love that movie? ZELIG? Okay I own the entire Woody Allen library, from BANANAS to HANNAH AND HER SISTERS. Later stuff, admittedly not so much.

But to not like Woody - to not get him - what kind of world are you living in??

I was talking to a friend yesterday who admitted to losing a potential friendship over SIDEWAYS. If you loved ATONEMENT, can you be friends with someone who hated that but loved HOSTEL?

Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of friends, god knows, and we don't all share the exact taste in movies, but my friends can always appreciate something I loved - they may not be the biggest Julie Taymor fan, for example, but they see how I could be. I have friends who adored movies like DIE HARD and LETHAL WEAPON - movies I appreciate but that most certainly did not change my life or stick with me in any way. But that's okay. Whatever.

What would you do if a friend said they hated Alfred Hitchcock? For me - this is heresy and ultimately, a deal-breaker. For me, off the top of my head, I think the deal breaker list would have to include:

Woody Allen
Martin Scorsese
Alfred Hitchcock
Billy Wilder

Whereas, I am a huge fan of but would TRY to understand if someone wasn't as into:

PT Anderson
Wes Anderson
Jim Jarmusch

I mean, of course, I would try to convert them and show them the error of their ways, but I get it; those are film makers who are quirky and are not for everyone to adore the way I do.

Am I being shallow (okay yeah, probably) or can you draw conclusions about people from their movie tastes?

Have any Rouge Wavers ever faltered in a relationship because of disparate movie tastes? How important is that ephemeral, intellectual-entertainment quotient to you?

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Grin of the Day

Wavers, once in awhile I come across something that just makes me grin from ear to ear and know that life is most certainly good - and unpredictable. Check out this link from Improv Everywhere

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Stuff Happens

A mistake I see very often in the scripts of newer writers is this:

Backstory/set up, a lotta talking
A lot of STUFF happens
Flashback to something in the backstory
Character talks about his/her backstory
Maybe more stuff happens

By the way, my new screenwriting book: Stuff Happens, a Technical Guide for the Amateur Dramaturge is being released by Doubleday sometime in 2012. Just FYI. ;)

Where we were? Oh yes, in other words, new writers forget that the stuff happening should be concurrent with us getting to know your character - they are not two separate things with their own scenes or sequences. In other words, the dramatic narrative includes character development and backstory. Duh, right? But Waver, you would be shocked - SHOCKED - at how often writers fall prey to the Slow Scene in Which Nuttin' Happens.

The dramatic narrative and the character development (i.e., backstory, quirks, the struggle with the flaw) happen at the same time. When you separate them out, you wind up with a lot of pages on which no stuff is happening. And then what happens, Wavers? You get a bored, cranky reader because nothing is moving the story forward. Remember, your character's whole life is something they carry with them into every experience. So we don't really need, necessarily, a flashback of not getting chosen for the team - because the result of that has given your character a level of insecurity and not being good enough that colors everything in his or her world. And, taking it a step further, your character has actually honed that feeling down and externalized it into a flaw - say for example, being an exclusive, arrogant jerk. He or she is coping - negatively. And this coping mechanism will drive the story forward. Things don't just happen to your character, your character's flaw is part of why they happen they way they do.
This makes your character an active participant in all the shit that is raining down on his or her head throughout the story.

There are certain milestones along the way as you grow into and become a truly adept screenwriter. You know, back in our early beginnings, when we bought our first "how-to screenwrite" book, our scripts were self-indulgent, melodramatic, self-referrential, totally unmarketable junk. We've all been there, you might be there now - it's okay, it's a rite of passage.

One of the milestones is recognizing that this script is not about you or what you like but about what moves you and what is universal. Another milestone is taking off your black beret and realizing that movies are product, meaning that there are expectations and a ton of hardwork, that this industry is about bread and circus and you cannot expect to break in without learning some of the rules of the game.

And another milestone, the one I am referring to today, is that you need to get the adventure, the main crux of the conflict MOVING and keep it moving - and that you fold your character development into that narrative rather than take breaks to explain things. Keep. The story. MOVING. Scripts are like sharks (heh) - they need to keep moving. If you have an inactive scene or sequence, get out the machete.

I scribble notes on script pages that I am reading and here is, without a doubt, the word I scribble the most often: WHY?

Why does this scene exist? How is it moving the story forward?



Here are two examples, one old and one new, of a scene in which we get some backstory but it continues to move the story forward:

JAWS: The famous USS Indianapolis scene, in which Quint, in a brilliant monologue, recounts the horrible story of the seamen aboard that doomed cruiser in WWII. And how does it move the story forward - well, thematically, of course, the crew is picked off by sharks, one by one and our group is sitting there on their little boat knowing there is a shark-monster stalking them. But in the narrative, what happens at the end of that sequence - BOOM - the shark makes his presence known again.

In a more recent example, in 3:10 TO YUMA, Christian Bale has a whispered, very powerful monologue when he's alone with his wife in the bedroom and in that monologue he reveals just how low he has become since he was wounded in the Civil War. And he vehemently explains why he must undertake this dangerous task. And what happens at the end of this sequence? Knock, knock - time to go. You coming or not? And he goes.

Now if you are an argumentative type, you might argue that in both incidences, backstory takes up a fair few minutes of film time and these are not particularly active scenes. Yes and no. The characters are activated at the end of the scenes, the scenes highlight character flaw which will shortly become quite relevant and - here's the biggest point I want to make - the writing of each scene is five star, home run, knock out, memorable writing. So yeah, if you have a slow-moving scene in which you're going to sidetrack us momentarily and talk about the past or whatever - you damn well better make it THAT memorable.

If you are more of a beginner, the moral is this: Keep Stuff Happening. Don't languish in backstory or flashbacks or scenes in which your character cries in the shower then makes a TV dinner then falls asleep in the chair - all to service the idea that he is lonely. FANtastic. Loneliness as sledgehammer. We get it. You can be lonely in a crowd - but it's much harder to write that, isn't it? So don't go for the obvious, step it up. And remember - stuff needs to be happening - ALWAYS. Every scene must justify its existence and keep moving like a shark. Otherwise you wind up with a boring script, slowing suffocating in the silt at the bottom of the sea.

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Decision 2008

Good morning, Wavers! The new Script Departmentwebsite has officially gone live today. I'm very excited about the design and all the cool new stuff that we are offering including some scary-talented folks in our boutique services section.

So yesterday I had a rather thrilling experience. Right around 10am you would have found me sitting at a coffee shop on Larchmont along with Christopher Keane, one of the most respected screenwriting authors and consultants in the business. We met to discuss Chris's new boutique service available through the Script Department but naturally we discussed 3:10 to Yuma, charting character arcs, how it's hard for writers to release their choke hold on stories that are true in order to fictionalize it entertainingly and how much we both love Merle Oberon. I had the chance to ask Chris about a new idea I am working on and as we discussed it, I thought - how unbelievably lucky am I, to be getting feedback from a man with this much talent and background?? So that's when I asked Chris if he would be willing to donate a 30 minute feedback conversation on the phone with the 2nd Place winner of the Silver Screenwriting Competition. And he readily agreed. How cool is that?

About now, you are probably wondering why this blog post is titled Decision 2008. I'm taking a long way round to get there and look, it's Monday morning and I have about 18 scripts in front of me, so go easy on the Wave-inatrix or no cupcake for you.

I had a strange epiphany about character work yesterday and I wanted to share it. So I'm lying on the couch idly watching FACE OFF last evening thinking wow, there is such an interesting dynamic between these two characters and their respective sons, lovers, etc. But I was troubled by two things: One, I kept thinking - so wait - Nicholas Cage is the bad guy even though he's acting like a good guy and Travolta, yeah, he's actually the good guy, right? So I had a hard time really identifying with the bad or good guy because of the identity switch. (Bear with me, I really am going somewhere with this). But the second thing that kept bugging me was oh come on, really? You switch a person's entire SKIN - what about the bone structure, the teeth, the shape of your hands? I do not buy this for one Pluto second. (RIP Pluto, by the way).

And I thought - wait - is this story set in the future? It doesn't look it. Who is the president right now, in this story? Do we ever know that fact in movies? We know that if we watch SIXTEEN CANDLES that the president was Ronald Reagan because he has to be - it's the 80s. And of course the movie reflects the 80s in every way - the hair, the clothes, the music and mostly, the zeitgeist. And in DAZED AND CONFUSED, this is the mid-70s and we know that similarly so because of the art direction, but mostly because of the vibe of the movie, right?

So I'm thinking - we talk a lot about character work and world and things like that on the Rouge Wave - Tony wrote a great blog the other day about adjectives - but stop to think for a minute about the geo-political situation today. We have an election coming up that might be (please, god) historic - the first black OR the first woman president. That's huge. How has the Iraq war, President Bush-Rove-Cheney, Valerie Plame, Condie Rice - how has that all affected your world view in the past several years? It has - right? It has me, for sure. So, you're writing a script at the moment and say it's set in the blurry-whenever-sorta-now era. Which most scripts I read are. Romantic Comedies, horror stories, family dramas - they aren't exactly period specific, they're just sorta set in the "present".

So stop for a second and consider this: In this "present" that you are building as the world for your characters, who is the president of the US? What is going on in Gaza? How did 9/11 affect your main character? Where were they when it happened? Are they pulling for Obama? How do they feel about Scuzzball Spitzer? Did they vote? Do they ever vote? How do they feel about the state of the world right now? Should we get out of Iraq?

This might seem esoteric but it's really not. What's happening around us geo-politically not to mention environmentally impacts our day to day. From our mood, to our outlook, to our level of involvement, to the economy and whether we're upside down on our home loan or looking to buy a cheap piece of property from someone else who was upside down.

What is going on the world outside of your story? And how does it affect your main character?

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The Silver Screenwriting Competition

Happy Friday, Wavers. Have we all gotten used to the time change this week? I know the Wave-inatrix is sleeping in way later than she should although one can never under-estimate the power of beauty sleep when you're over 40. YES the Wave-inatrix is over 40. Shocking, I know. I seem so youthful and dewy. Good genes.

The Script Department took a vote and decided, ironically, to go with one of our original ideas - The Silver Screenwriting Competition. We listened carefully to the many great prize recommendations and have incorporated many of your ideas. We will be formally announcing the competition in a couple of weeks. We need time to make sure that the infrastructure of the competition is top notch so that we're not some lame, fly-by-night competition but a really valuable, professional new competition on the scene.

However, the Script Department (okay, I) would like to reward to Rouge Wavers who had particularly funny and interesting suggestions for the competition, with a $25 Amazon gift certificate each for their contributions.

And those two Rouge Wavers are:

Wenonah - Citizen Script
A.Nonymous - The Golden Grapefruit

Wenonah, I have your contact information, look for your prize momentarily, and A.nonymous, you need to email me at julie@thescriptdepartment.com to collect your prize.

That's it, Wavers - carry on.

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Guest Blog: Your Character is Not an Adjective

By the latest Wave-inatrix cupcake favorite, Tony Robenalt, bon vivant and Script Department reader. And Wavers, I think this guest blog is particularly helpful to us all as writers. Read on and enjoy:

***

You know that crazy dude who lives a few blocks away from you? The one whose front yard is a dense, tangle of weeds and overgrown shrubs, and whose kitchen (rumor has it) is a maze of stacked newspapers, some with dates from the last century? Yeah, that guy. You know whom I’m talking about. You said “Hi” to him one fine morning while you were out walking your dog and he was in his driveway, kneeling down to pick up what would presumably become one more brick in his periodical funhouse, and instead of returning your greeting, he snatched up the paper and ran back into his house. That guy. The crazy dude. The one your next door neighbor claims she once found curled up in the fetal position on her front porch, bawling his eyes out, wearing nothing but a tattered pink bathrobe.

What you probably don’t know about that guy is that his wife passed away eight years ago. He can’t throw away the newspapers, because each one reminds him of a specific day when he sat in his kitchen, sipping coffee from a chipped, faded yellow mug with “World’s Greatest Woman” on it, and read the A-section out loud to the empty chair across the table from him, imagining his loved one’s reaction to the various articles.

Now how would you describe that guy? I casually tossed out “crazy” in the first paragraph, but that doesn’t really do him justice, does it? How about eccentric? Grief-ridden? Or, ugh, heaven help us, sad? Meh. None of those adjectives replaces the visual of his neglected front yard (his wife did all the gardening and yard work) or of newspapers stacked from floor to ceiling in his kitchen (and probably living room and dining room as well; eight years is a lot of newspapers). No adjective could possibly live up to the image of him sitting at his kitchen table, drinking coffee from his wife’s mug, reading the newspaper to someone who isn’t there, or crying on your neighbor’s porch the morning after a bender, clad only in his wife’s bathrobe. And how about his reaction when you said “Hi” to him? Yowsers.

Which brings me to the point of my first (and hopefully not last) guest entry in Julie’s magnificent blog:

A very sagacious (uh-oh!) professor of mine at USC once gave me this advice about creating memorable characters: “Don’t think of your characters solely in terms of adjectives. You should start there, sure, but you need to move way beyond that. Think of them in terms of verbs. Not what they are, but what they do. Don’t get stuck on the abstracts. Think visually. This is the best way to overcome the dreaded ‘He sits. He stares. He smiles. He nods. He rolls his eyes.’ syndrome.”

I think it’s fantastic advice, and has done more to help me create characters that jump off the page and resemble actual human-like people than any of the other various gimmicks and tricks I’ve attempted. So the next time you’re doing character bios/sketches, and you’ve got a protag named John who is painfully shy, try writing something like: “John avoids eye contact with pretty women; John raises his hand when he’s in a group and wants to say something—like he’s still in school; if John enters a room full of strangers (e.g., at a party), he always makes a beeline for the window—as long as no one is standing near it—and spends a lot of time looking outside, trying to pump himself up to talk to people. Etc.” You might find, much to your amazement, that poor, shy John takes on a life of his own. A life beyond “shy.”


Tony Robenalt, USC film school grad, pool hustler, degenerate gambler, and all-around fly in the quantum soup, has written eleven scripts, each more brilliant than the last, and digs those multi-colored sugar stars the Wave-inatrix puts on her cupcakes. When he's not causing the Universe to cry out for its waiter, he's reading your scripts.

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Guest Blog: What I Learned From TV

By Angela Whiting

I’m a Propmaster on a medical show on one of the big three networks. Every episode brings a whole new set of research to be done, sort of like cramming for a college exam. It’s a little stressful, but I love it. It’s what keeps me interested in the job. Every week, I learn something new. In my decade-plus long career, I’ve had the great fortune to be immersed in a lot of different worlds, from the pell-mell get it done world of TV to the in-depth, weeks to months research on feature films. I know way more than I ever wanted to about the manufacture, use and effects of meth amphetamines (very bad, don’t go there). With one inch cloth tape, I could wrap the hands of any professional boxer and protect his/her hands safely. And I could tell you what weapons are carried by an elite Los Angeles law enforcement unit and what a drop holster is. Arcane perhaps? Ah but, for all those days I wondered what the hell I would do with this information once the project had wrapped, since each, I have had many epiphanies, the first of which is, we are the sum of our experiences. Plus, I make a great dinner guest.

In the fall, just before the writer’s strike came to pass, my mother became ill. Initially diagnosed with pneumonia and bronchitis, she took to her bed. I arrived at Thanksgiving for what turned out to be a providential hiatus, and she was still plagued by breathlessness and a loss of energy. She got a CT, (ding ding, I know what this is - thank you medical show) which is a magnetic image of her chest. The week after Thanksgiving, the radiologist (the expert who reads the film itself, more skilled than your average GP), called. It was a controlled emergency - the tech said pretty much, run, don’t walk to the ER, you have PE in your lungs. In medical parlance, that’s bad. Pulmonary Embolus, blood clots in your lungs. Blood clots break away and can give you a stroke or a heart attack. Ding effing ding, I know what this is and know enough to calm fears and get us off to the hospital and get her checked in. After a series of tedious admission tests, another chest CT, chest X-rays, blood pressure and heart monitoring (ding, ding and double ding), she is admitted. But we are still in the midst of a House-like medical mystery. What the hell is wrong and why the hell does she have clots on her lungs? But I gotta tell ya, I knew what was happening, from a medical standpoint, as a laywoman, every step of the way.

Suffice to say, it got worse before it got better. She ended up in the ICU, having an Echo (an Echocardiogram, kind of like a sonogram for the heart) and an Angiogram or a Cardiac Catheterization (an invasive procedure that checks out your heart with a probe up through your femoral artery) and she was ultimately diagnosed and treated. But more ding, ding, ding, I knew what was happening, again, every step of the way, able to describe the procedures to her and my family and keep a lid on everyone’s anxiety. Plus she had her own McDreamy (well, really her own Preston Burke, a Cardiologist) who gave her heart a clean bill of health.

So what is the point of all this blow -by-blow? Aside from making you the resident expert on your subject matter, it makes you the go-to person when the hundreds of folk (it feels like) ask you the innumerable questions about the world you have created. The actors (who, justifiably, have lots of questions), the director, the producers, the prop/costume people will all come to you and you have to, at the very least, create the illusion of expertise. And when you do the work, immerse yourself in the world of your project, you educate yourself, in ways for which there are unforeseen payoffs. You never know what you might learn and you never know when it might help save a life, or at least calm the fears of those you love. Plus, you too, will be a great dinner guest.

And by the way, my Mom is doing great.

Angela Whiting is my best friend, can make a salad out of anything in the fridge instantly and lives in Echo Park. She has an impressive IMDB which is only missing one thing - a picture of her beautiful face. She does indeed make a great dinner guest.

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Another Update!

Okay I promise to stop giving these annoying updates but I have just added to the Grand Prize, drinks at the Chateau Marmont with my man Blake Snyder! I will probably also throw in his latest book and software. Blake is one of the world's most charming, genteel, smart and articulate men and whoever wins, I'm going too because dang, the Chateau Marmont and Blake Snyder!!

Okay back to our regularly scheduled program. Wavers who aren't on the Script Department newsletter mailing list, click the button on the sidebar to sign up and you'll receive the details next week.

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Update

Stephanie Palmer WILL be part of the grand prize - an hour with the Empress of the Pitch before the day of meetings - wow, how cool is that? I'm beginning to get jealous of this grand prize winner! I wonder if I can pull off a fake beard...

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Good In a Room

Hello, Wavers! And wow - the competition suggestions are rolling in at quite a pace and I am LOVING it! This should be a competition by the people, for the people. I mean, really, cash is great but lunch with Alan Ball? That's one writer I have a connection to that I am approaching - no promises, in fact, it may not work out - but that's the kind of thing I'm trying to put together here. A beneficial winning experience.

A quick announcement, my dear friend and Script Department Advisory Board member, Stephanie Palmer has just released her book Good in a Room! You can read an excerpt here. I am hoping, hoping, fingers crossed to actually have Stephanie be part of our Grand Prize; possibly the Grand Prize winner could enjoy a coaching session with Stephanie previous to the manager meetings. Maybe. She's awful busy, Miss Stephanie. We'll see what the Wave-inatrix can pull together.

I solemnly swear that the Rouge Wave will return to its regularly scheduled, slightly cranky programming about screenwriting ASAP. I have scripts coming out my ears right now. And I'm reading some darn good stuff, Wavers, you should be nervous; you have serious competition out there.

Remember, any topic suggestions, please leave a comment or send to the Rouge Wave MAILBAGand if I feel like it, I'll answer your question. Now get back to work and keep those suggestions coming.

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Competition Competition Continued

Wow, I am amazed by some of the GREAT suggestions that Wavers are making for this competition! And the enthusiasm, too! So I have a follow-up question - aside from all the requisite free copies of Final Draft and lifetime supply of brads, what kind of experience or item would you LIKE to see as a prize in a competition? I think the broadly outlined Grand Prize is clearly pretty darn cool - what about 2nd and 3rd place prizes?

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The Competition Competition

Good morning, wonderful Wavers. Two observations and a competition:

One, is it very odd living one block from CBS Television City because it means at odd intervals each day, I hear a studio audience whooping and cheering apropos of nothing.

Two, I know Rouge Wavers can do better - I received only a paltry few five word pitches.

Here's the Competition Competition:

Next week, The Script Department will be announcing, among a lot of other pretty cool things, a screenwriting competition unlike any other. Judging will be tough because the grand prize winner will receive not cash but an experience: A round trip ticket to Los Angeles, a stay at the Beverly Hilton and a day of meetings with three managers who will have read the winning script and will take a meeting with the winner to discuss the script, to hear another pitch and to discuss their career. I'm currently on the hunt for an A-list writer (or okay we might have to settle for B-list) to have lunch with the grand prizer winner at the Ivy.

2nd and 3rd prizes are being brainstormed as we speak but will similarly be beneficial experiences rather than just cash. The real purpose of a competition is to find great material and a promising writer who deserves a shot at a career and who needs help building connections and relationships. Cash can't do that. Dropping a press release to Variety guarantees absolutely nothing.

Since this is our first year, I imagine that in ensuing years the top prizes will get juicier and juicier - B list writer this year - A list next year, as one example. We really want to find and reward great writing. As I said, the judging will be tough. Without naming names, I read the top finalists at a large competition last year and I was aghast at the poor quality. I refuse to allow that to happen. I want good stuff. Every entrant, win or lose, will be able to use their entry fee toward a Script Department service down the line.

Anyway, we're working out the rules and all that - all of this will be announced next week but we can't think of a good name for this competition. The prizes are beneficial, relationship-building and experiential in nature. I like the vibe of Hollywood's golden era, which is the leit motif of the new website (sign up for our newsletter to get a first look), and would love a competition name which is memorable, which summons up the imagery of Hollywood's golden era and which somehow captures the spirit of this competition: a good writer will find him or herself taking meetings, having lunch and building connections - which is what this business is ALL about. Relationships.

Submit your suggestions here and if I find one that is a clear winner, the winner will receive a $50 gift certificate to the merchant of their choice, a cupcake and the undying love and devotion of the Wave-inatrix, which, let's face it, is good stuff.

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Can You Pitch in 5 Words?

That is a fun challenge I see very often on the Done Deal Message Board. Of course, some nutter submitted: girl on girl action which is worth a laugh but four syllables, not five words. Nice try, wiseacre.

Can you pitch or describe the script you're working on in five words? It's a fun challenge but it is useful? A WGA friend of mine pointed out that describing your script in 150 words - 3 concise paragraphs - is the more useful exercise. And I weigh in that actually, zooming in and out from the micro to the macro when describing your story is more than a fantastic way to get to know your story - it is a crucial way to get to know your story. Not only because when you pitch, you'll have to pitch in a number of ways (the elevator pitch, the meet -n- greet pitch, the treatment, the development meeting) but because when you force yourself to zoom in and out of your story, you begin to tattoo the essence of it on your brain. In other words if your five words are: Baker hides body for revenge - then you need to be damn sure that on every single page of your script - that essence is there. THAT is the entertainment value and you need to make sure that the very boiled down basics of your script are evident in every interaction on every page. Does that make sense?

A friend just gave me a disappointed review of DISTURBIA saying the first half was very strong; did he or didn't he? But in the second half, yup, he did and now he's gonna getcha. Wow, Wave-inatrix, that added up to two neat five-word descriptions for the first and second half of the movie, how DO you do it and what is your beauty secret? Well, plenty of sleep and steamed cauliflower, since you asked but bear with me:

DISTURBIA:
page one through fifty: Did he or didn't he?
page fifty one through one hundred: ...and now he's gonna getcha.

So you can see that the entertainment value of "did he or didn't he" is pretty high and varied. But "now he's gonna getcha" takes us down to a lot of pop out moments and narrow escapes.

Full disclosure - I didn't see DISTURBIA, probably should. But the mini-W's droll review made me think twice about my nine bucks.

So I'm talking about two things here - about describing your story in as few words as possible, from five words to three paragraphs to a one page synopsis. Can everybody try that? How did you do?

The other thing that I'm talking about is identifying and paying off the core, the essence, the bottom-line description of the entertainment value of your story.

Put yourself in the head of an executive. You sit at your expensive desk after having parked your BMW and sipped your five dollar coffee, but you know what? You have no job security whatsoever and you know that as does your assistant. You're only as secure as your last project and that one didn't do so well. You've GOT to find the next big thing, you've got to. And some knock-kneed writer sits across the desk from you sweating and all you can think of is that you've got to refinance the house to put the pool in, another creative exec, the backstabbing one you hate, got the corner office and thank god today is a therapy day.

So here's this writer. And they start to babble about their story. And you're thinking to yourself - what is the UPSHOT? What is the upshot of this entertainment? Yeah, yeah, theme, character development but when I take this to my boss and neatly lay my head on a platter and hand him a knife, what am I asking my boss to gamble on, here? A lot of scenes that show some guy who's gonna getcha? A lot of scenes that show a marriage slowly crumbling? Ayyyyeeeee don't really want my head on that platter, no thanks. You glance at your watch, phew, time for your next meeting. You shake the sweaty hand of the writer and mumble see ya, wouldn't wanna be ya. Then yell at your assistant as a way to show him or her exactly what his or her place is in this world, this week, dammit. Thank god it's therapy day.

So when you think of your five words, imagine those five words describing the bulk of the entertainment, writ large. Forget about the nuances, the mystery, that one great piece of dialogue down in the coal mine - basically, the audience is gonna sit through a lot of scenes that show....what?

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Funny Text Messages I Have Received

A few blog posts ago (or more) I mentioned the new trend in Japan, of writing novels on a cell phone via text. Wacky! But when I received this text the other day:

FYI - the "Serpent & the Rainbow" is not the same as "the Falcon & the Snowman". Just a tip.

...it inspired me. Why just text facts and times? Why not text haikus or strange and obvious observations? Anyone have anything to share?

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Everybody Gets Stuck

Well, Wavers, as things return to normal in my life post-mysterious-tragic-circumstances (a mystery even to me, believe me) The Script Department is bursting with scripts - literally every surface if my office is covered with incoming material. It's competition season, that's clear. We are inundated lately which is a wonderful thing but I took some time this weekend to begin a new script myself. And you'd think - you'd THINK - with the resources at my disposal, with the fact that I read and analyze stories daily for a living, that it would be a breeze. But no. When it's your work - it's different.

I began with a great premise. And I knew it was great. Yes, I do have an advantage there because of the experience that I have and the discipline I have acquired over time, when it comes to testing my premise for seaworthiness. And this is a one killer premise. So yesterday I began outlining. I use the sequential method, as I have explained before. I title and describe every ten pages. I will use a classic, Rouge Wave lame/funny example, of course, so none of you rabid writers swipes my idea:

Bakery Disaster (this is the title of this SEQUENCE, not the script, fyi)
Stephanie Strumpet (40) a controlling perfectionist, Martha Stewart wannabe is about to be a star. She won the Regional Cake Decorating Decorator of the Year last year. She gets an order for the largest cake she's ever decorated. But things go wrong when, on the eve of delivering the cake de resistance, Stephanie finds her policeman boyfriend cheating on her with the frosting girl and in the ensuing melee, the cake gets destroyed and Stephanie is fired!

Success is the Best Revenge
Unemployed and pissed off, Stephanie can't pay her rent. She is determined to make her ex boy friend pay for what he's done and when she finds a vacant storefront on the first floor of his apartment building, she sets a plan in motion to open her own bakery right under his nose and make success the best revenge.

The Frosting Thickens
When the boyfriend gets wind, he sics the city on Stephanie and she is beset with permit issues until she borrows money from her crazy Uncle Max to pay off the inspector and open the bakery anyway. But when Stephanie discovers that Uncle Max got the instructions wrong and the inspector's body is in the freezer with the buttercream frosting, she has a new problem on her hands

Okay it has taken a tremendous amount of wasted creative energy to make that crap up, but this is how I outline. I decribe every ten pages, knowing that those ten pages need a beginning, a middle and an end. Or, a set-up (and any sequence past page one derives it's set up from the ending of the last sequence, yes?) a complication and a resulting complication. Nothing conclusive will end a sequence, see? Because we need to drive the story forward to the NEXT page, sequence and ultimately act.

So if I were to number these sequences, along with their dvd chapter titles (which is how I view those goofy titles) I know that Sequences 3, 6 and 9 must hold the most pivotal events of the script, yes? The major reversals and complications.

So - where was I - oh, yes, getting stuck. So I tested a great premise. I outlined about half using the method above. Then I got stuck. Why? Because any number of events could take place that would be a reversal or a reveal in this tense psychological thriller. But how do I choose? Of the many directions I could go - which is best? And so, like all good writers, I would up staring at a blank page yesterday. Oh, I have all the books, I have all the experts, I have all the inspiration in the world. And yet - the blank page mocked me. If this is such a good premise, why don't I know what happens in sequence five? HUH?

So I did what any good writer would do and went to Margaux's house. Where we talked about story. Hers, mine, the script she read the day before. And we realized together that when you're stuck, there's a powerful crowbar - character. Go back to character.

List your main character and his/her flaws, wants and needs. Write a paragraph about that character's arc across this story. Do you know the ending? Does the main character triumph? Then go back to that arc and that flaw. You might wind up thinking of your script in chunks, like sequences one through three - then you might come up with a great midpoint reversal and say you happen to feel pretty jazzed about sequences nine and ten - okay, so what will bridge the gap? Go back to that arc. Always the arc.

And what about the antagonist? What are his/her goals? What is his or her unique methods out of which events will arise? What does the antagonist want from the main character? To play with her like a mouse? To ruin her cake decorating life? To bring her down a few notches? What is driving that antagonist and how does that ping off of the main character's flaws?

And don't forget - when stuck, to make sure you have fleshed out your main character's life. Have you forgotten that the main character has pets, family, a backstory? We all have a multitude of things going on in the background of our lives, yes? The upcoming birthday, the new health insurance, the annoying guy at work who keeps copping a feel with his eyes every time you get your Earl Grey tea. Stop and think. What else makes up the fabric of your character's life that will flesh out and complicate the events of the main plotline?

And so, Wavers, I became unstuck and finished my outline. And for a short while, I bathed in the glow of that accomplishment. Now I just have to write pages. And that's easy, right?!

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Blog-a-Prayer

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the virus

I will fear no sickness: for Theraflu art with me: thy steaming cup and thy antihistimines, they comfort me.

Thou doest prepare a table before me in the sight of mine television: thou doest anoint mine eyes with borderline entertainment, and my cup runneth over.

Surely, Gene Simmons Family Jewels will follow me all the days of my life, emblazoned in my feverish brain like a nightmare.

(wild applause) thank you - thank you. Had a lot of time to think about that one. Excuse my absence, Wavers. Anybody got any good illness haikus, poems, prayers or stories to contribute this glorious Friday?

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Winning Essay

Well, Wavers, I received ever so many wonderful essays and it was difficult to choose. But this essay, by Adam Hong, jumped out at me and I hereby award it first place in the 1st Annual Rouge Wave 500 Word Essay Competition:

WHERE I WAS
by Adam Hong

Our flight was delayed for 2 hours. Then we missed our connection and spent a sleepless night in some flea-infested motel. The next morning we boarded an overbooked flight and split up¬—-Shane in first class, me in the back--and for ten hours I was cramped in a corner that was blocked by a stout couple who drank, squabbled and was gregarious in matching Hawaiian shirts. When we reached Oahu, Hawaii, our luggage was nowhere to be found.



A petite girl behind the car rental counter politely offered us two choices: a SUV or a convertible. Shane immediately expressed her wish for the latter. Would the Trailblazer have made a difference? It might have. A splendid drive otherwise--each turn opened up to a more startling view than the previous. That was until Shane pointed out a path that led toward the water. Let the fun begin! She enthused. Apparently the 10-hour flight in first class had rejuvenated her spirit.

I veered off the road and immediately realized that the Trailblazer would have made a difference. The car sank as fast as she moved. Then she stopped. Just like that. The wheels spun futilely. I sat there, still, staring into the seamless white sand that cast an equally blinding glare from the sun. Why? Why us? Why here? Why me? I pushed myself up. A hollow honk echoed through the stark afternoon. Out of the car, I was crushed. Depleted. Trapped. Needing some space.

Ahead there was nothing but space. The sand quickly found its way inside my sneakers. I tugged off my shoes--almost lost my footing--and hurled them back into the car. Shane dodged the shoes as if I was aiming for her. I wasn’t. I should’ve. The silky strand felt incredible. Its fluid grains contoured the soles of my feet, seeped through the gaps of my toes, soothing my discontent, step by step. Not a soul in sight. Not even my own shadow. Mishaps or fortunes, as we call them, have different degrees and interpretations. When we can no longer rationalize the whys, we come up with something called fate. Was that it?

I reached the edge of the surf and stood there in wonderment. The wind constantly raked the sea until the water broke into silver waves lapping the naked shore, erasing the footprints of my self-pity left behind. From a distance, two dolphins fluttered their flukes simultaneously. If you stand on the shoreline of Hawaii and look outward, you’ll see the turquoise ocean gradually turn cerulean and raise heavenward and merge into the cobalt sky without a horizon: there is no vanishing point. And if you gaze into that ambiguous distance, you’ll lose all your senses of space and gravity and start floating away, along with the islands, inside a bubble, drifting toward infinity where your troubles seem insignificant. Especially on that very day. September 11, 2001. Hawaii, fate or not, that’s where I was. Instead of New York City.

Congratulations, Adam - that short essay had everything I was looking for in this competition; imagery, emotional truth, structure and a twist. Well done, my friend. We shall discuss a $25 gift certificate to the establishment of your choosing.

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Guest Blog: Christopher Keane

Today, Rouge Wavers, we are lucky indeed to have a guest blog by Christopher Keane, renowned screenwriting speaker and instructor. Not only is Chris a good friend of the Wave-inatrix, his wisdom is available through the Script Department. Enough, enough already, let's see what Christopher Keane has to say today...

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Impatience Kills!

by Christopher Keane

Impatience is a virus, a plague among writers. It crawls into writers' brains and screams: Hurry Up! If you don't send the script off NOW, they won't want it. They’ll forget it’s coming. They won’t remember me.

So what if it needs another pass. So what if I haven’t gone deep with the characters and the story has a couple of holes - the sheer brilliance of it will override those minor discrepancies.

Or there’s this one: It's been two weeks and I haven’t heard from them. Hell, call them up, everyday. Bug them. You're a star; they just don't know it yet. Bugging them will make them pay attention. Don't hesitate! Pick up the phone, dammit! Crank up the e-mail. Make yourself known!

What are impatient people called? I mean, besides that. Yes! The big three: Arrogant, Insensitive and Overbearing. Impatience is a huge career stopper. What causes it: usually, stress. How to stop it: walk away, or count to ten, or lower your voice.

Impatience has been my plague. I have hounded agents. One of them actually bought me a plane ticket to Mexico City just to get me out of town while he negotiated my deal. Funny story? Not from the agent’s POV.

I was a major pain in the ass, to him and to me, and to the process. I chalked up one more notch in my reputation as being “difficult.” I left the top agency in town because the agents were not getting it done fast enough. On /my/ time.

Of course when I think back they were moving at ram speed, but I was at double ram. I expected their work on my behalf to catch up to my expectations. This particular agent was probably glad to see me go.

I have also committed impatience’s greatest crime:

Welcome to a horror story: I have a friend, an MD who teaches at Harvard. He had been working on a novel for three years, for at least three hours every day. One day he calls me up and asks me to read the manuscript quickly, again. Why?

His brother is a very good friend of Random House’s Sonny Mehta, one of the publishing industry’s handful of most powerful people. Sonny Mehta has promised to read my friend’s book, as a personal favor to his brother.

I say I will read it over the weekend and give notes. My MD friend
brings me the book Thursday. I go to work. By Sunday I have read it and
call my friend. I tell him it’s excellent, which it is, but that he
has places that need to be fixed.

They will take some time but they will make the book what it should and can be - an excellent literary effort to which anyone, I felt, would give substantial consideration. And he has Sonny Mehta who will, if he likes it, get it published.

To make these changes, I felt, would take, at the clip my friend works, perhaps two months. There is a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, I hear, “Ah, Chris, when I brought you the book on Thursday I had another copy, which I took to the Federal Express and sent off to Sonny Mehta.”

Now there was a pause on my end, during which I tried to calm myself. I say, “It’s not bad enough that I spent three days working on this for nothing, but you might have killed your big goose.”

Sonny Mehta read the book over the weekend and in a short conciliatory note stated that the book was indeed promising but not far enough along to justify him passing it along to one of his hard working editors.

Would Sonny Mehta have published it after my friend spent two more months on it? That’s not the point. My friend will never know, because in this writing business, as they say, you only really get one shot at the top. For a time my friend was paralyzed by the rejection. Then he abandoned the work totally because it reminded him of his own terrible failure.

We’ve all heard the reasons behind why people are impatient. Self-righteousness. Fear of being taken advantage of. Hysterical childhoods brought forward. Extremely low esteem. Egoism leading to unwarranted self-worth. Unworthiness leading to self-sabotage. All true.

So what? If you’ve got it, you need to lose it.

I have tried to learn to wait. I have occupied myself with other things so that I don’t check my messages and e-mail every two minutes. It’s not easy. I have hyperventilated over what I imagine others are doing with my script, when it fact they have fifty other things to do before they get to it, including taking out the garbage.

I have driven myself crazy imagining every bad scenario imaginable and linking them all to the fate of my screenplay.

I have been constantly shocked when someone tells me she is sorry she didn’t call me back yesterday but she was out sick. She might have added; and I’m really sorry that it had nothing to do with your script. Impatience as paranoia.

I have been convinced that the agent or producer is literally checking the mail room at ten minute intervals looking for my script, and getting pissed off at me, thus ruining my career forever, for my not having delivered it as promised.

If I send it, driven by some fear or other, it usually means that I have sent work with undernourished characters and flimsily plot lines running through derivative stories. And I wonder why it hasn’t been picked up? It’s all about impatience.

What’s the hurry? Why can’t you stand delay? What are you going to do for yourself? Use patience in all things. Why?

Because *impatience kills*!

Chris Keane has a new screenwriting book coming in April, 2008: Romancing the A-List: Writing the Script the Big Stars Want to Make. He has also written The Hunter (Paramount), Dangerous Company (CBS) The Huntress (USA Network series) plus screenwriting books: How to Write A Selling Screenplay & Hot Property. He teaches and lectures at Harvard, Emerson College, NYU, Smithsonian Institution. His consulting services are available through The Script Department. Contact Chris at Keanewords@aol.com

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