Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Blake Snyder

A dear friend of The Script Department, Blake Snyder is the well-known writer of Save the Cat and Save the Cat Goes to the Movies. In addition, he is one of the most genteel, funny and kind people the Wave-inatrix has met. Today he was kind enough to guest blog about the big T - transformation.

***
The Transformation Machine

All stories are about transformation.

And seeing this as a good thing is the starting point of writing a successful story of any kind.

Something has to happen, change has got to occur. That's why the Opening Image (the snapshot of the world BEFORE) of a movie script has to be the opposite of the Final Image (the snapshot of the world AFTER.)

When breaking a story that's always where I start -- and what most listeners I am pitching to want to know: What HAPPENS? Well, the way to chart that is to ask who your hero is at the start and who he is by the end.

And that's what makes Act Two what I like to call The Transformation Machine. Heroes go into Act Two --- but they don't come out. And as storytellers, our job is to take our audience by the hand and explain that process. You the audience and I the writer, I like to say, are standing on a train platform, we're getting on the train... and we're not coming back.

The best part of the Blake Snyder Beat Sheet (the infamous BS2), the structure strategy for breaking down these story points, is the Transformation Machine of Act Two. By charting "Fun and Games," "Midpoint," "Bad Guys Close In", "All is Lost," and "Dark Night of the Soul," we have a map to show how that transformation occurs in our hero.

And when you add in the vital "B Story" hinge points at page 30 (when the "helper story" is introduced) to the "Midpoint" and "Break into Three" where A and B stories cross, the meaning of this transformation is discussed as well.

All stories are the caterpillar turning into a butterfly in some sense. All stories require a death and rebirth to make that painful and glorious process happen.

And it occurs in movies... and in life.

We transform every day, re-awaken to new concepts about the world around us, overcome conflict, and triumph over death... only to start again each morning.

It's why stories that follow this pattern resonate. Because each day is a transformation machine, and so are our lives.




If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

From the Mailbag

Regarding the RW post The Good Dearth, Rouge Waver Luzid asks:

How long do you expect this window to last, especially given the possibility of an upcoming SAG strike that may shut the town down once again?

Great question, Luzid. And a question I do not have the answer to. I do know that many managers and executives I have spoken with lately have spoken a bit gloomily about the potential SAG strike. So how's this for an answer - if the strike happens, whether writers are cranking out specs or whether there is another dearth of spec material - shouldn't you be cranking out some great specs right now? Strikes historically affect the industry in ways large and small for some time. Seize this opportunity, Wavers. And seize it quick.


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Change is Happening. Apparently.

Which is what Margaux said to me yesterday as she reported that she has several meetings coming up to be potentially staffed on a show in next year's fall lineup. So just FYI, those of you interested in working with Margaux on your television or feature scripts - she'll be with the Script Department no matter what, but the Wave-inatrix predicts a waiting list for her services and soon.

Change. It's all around us. It's all those cliches - inevitable, the only thing that's for sure, and well, honestly, a bit of a bitch, isn't it? But the Universe just keeps rolling and we have to evolve with it or become irrelevant.

Used to be that screenwriting was strictly thought of as a three-act construct. Now, more and more writers choose to work with four acts. The Wave-inatrix switched over several years ago and never looked back. Most of us know that the three-act structure dictates a first act that ends at approximately page 30, and a second act that ends right around page 90 and a third act that takes your script right into the 120 page range. That's craziness.

The problem with the three-act structure is that it is archaic and outdated. Expectations in the industry have shifted toward shorter, punchier scripts in which more happens faster. Call it ADD, call it whatever you want, but times, they are a' changin', kids.

But change is good. From a writer's perspective, having a second act that lies there like a hot, 60 page prairie of pain is a challenge that frankly leaves many stories lost in the desert with no oasis in sight.

Used to be that the inciting incident arrived right around page 10. And the first act break would then be at page 30. Midpoint, page 60. Second act break, page 90. That is for those of us who really tried to keep the math straight. And actually, Wavers, as geeky as it sounds, screenwriting is nothing if it isn't elegant math.

But things are changing fast in the entertainment industry and it behooves writers to keep up with the trends and expectations that your script will be compared with.

Executives increasingly look for shorter page count. They look for the first act break to happen much earlier. And that skews the whole structure differently, doesn't it? So are you keeping up with this, are you aware that the expectations are shifting?

Thanks to the Rouge Wave, you are. So listen up kids, and don't argue with mama, because I know some of you will. Get familiar with these new expectations and implement them in your writing and in your grasp of structure.

The new page 10 is page 3
That's right - that's your inciting incident. Executives are tiring of 9 pages of set up. Go for it earlier. The earlier the better as long as your set up is still executed soundly and smoothly.

The new page 30 is page 20
Yup, move that first act break as close to page twenty as you can. I do not make this stuff up.

The new midpoint is page 50
Remember, we're shooting for roughly a 100 page script

The new page 90 is page 75
That's bumping your second act break back by 15 pages. Yep, that makes your third act short as hell. The acts are no longer divided evenly.

In fact, here's what the whole structure should look like:

Page 1 to 25 - act one
page 26 to 50 - act two (a)
page 51 to 75 - act two (b)
page 76 to 100 - act three

Now, I know that for some Wavers, this is self-evident and what they've been doing for five years. For others who are really stuck in some kind of McKee parallel universe, this sounds as crazy as the notion that the earth revolves around the sun. Get with the times, people, expectations are changing. It goes without saying that if your first act break happens on page 28 rather than page 25, you'll live. This is a guide and we don't need any OCD Wavers freaking out on a slight page number difference.

But what this guide will do for you is force you to compress your story into its most elegant, efficient essence. Any writer can tell a story in 125 pages - but it takes a good writer to whittle that down to a sexy 105 page script.

So out with the old, in with the new - try it, Wavers, and see if this new paradigm can help you take your scripts to the next level.


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Monday, April 28, 2008

A Vast Horde of Souls

Here is a (politically correct) excerpt from what the Wave-inatrix considers the best short story of all time. The Waver who can identity this writer gets a cupcake. I really mean it this time.

There was only a purple streak in the sky, cutting through a field of crimson and leading, like an extension of the highway, into the descending dusk. She raised her hands from the side of the pen in a gesture hieratic and profound. A visionary light settled into her eyes. She saw the streak as a vast swinging bridge extending upward from the earth through a field of living fire. Upon it a vast horde of souls were rumbling toward heaven. There were whole companies of white trash, clean for the first time in their lives and bands of blacks in white robes, and battalions of freaks and lunatics shouting and clapping and leaping like frogs. And bringing up the end of the procession was a tribe of people whom she recognized at once as those who, like herself and Claude, had always had a little of everything and the God-given wit to use it right. She leaned forward to observe them closer. They were marching behind the others with great dignity, accountable as they had always been for good order and common sense and respectable behavior. They alone were on key. Yet she could see by their shocked and altered faces that even their virtues were being burned away....

Aside from the fact that the paragraph above is writing so good it hurts, what does a vast horde of souls, leaping and clapping have to do with screenwriting?

All weekend, The Wave-inatrix sat in my booth at the LA Times Festival of Books with my dear friend Jeff and watched the parade of humanity swirl and cluster into and out of booths. And Wavers, it was unparalleled people watching. The shufflers, the apple-grabbers, the twitchers and the quiet observers. The tall lady dressed in a mango-colored dress and hat with a foreign accent, a tongue piercing and dubious gender identification. The children with face paint, eager, bright-eyed and direct. The limping older guy with a desert hat, ZZ top beard and braces.

Jeff and I, both writers, when we weren't establishing what kind of facial hair would be best on Jeff or the writings of Trotsky and Freud, managed to beat out 85% of a great new action-adventure idea over that long, hot weekend. It's amazing what you discuss when you're bonding in a hot tent.

But in-between our brilliant ideas, we were transfixed by the way people wear their personalities on their exteriors. Baldly so. Their clothing, speech and posture spoke loud and clear. Probably because we are writers, we are more observant. Perhaps because we are writers we embellished with our imaginations.

It struck me that with the endless, infinite range of personalities, exteriors and back stories, no screenwriter ever has an excuse to write a two-dimensional, nondescript character. Take your cue from real life, Wavers. Today be observant of the vast horde of humanity that you co-exist with. Can you imagine back stories for who you see today based on their look and attitude? Can you try to guess what's going on in the life of the guy next to you at the red light? He may look normal, even bored in his car. But as I say to clients all the time - dig deeper.



If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

REMINDERS

The Wave-inatrix has received dozens of one page scenes for the latest competition on the Rouge Wave. And sitting next to the Great American Pitch Fest all day yesterday (and today) and seeing the excitement and opportunity they offer reminds me to remind Wavers who have not yet submitted to take a shot at winning a prize valued at $350 for simply writing a ONE page scene. Details are at right - deadline is midnight, Thursday May 1st.

Several local Wavers stopped by my booth yesterday at the LA Times Festival of Books to introduce themselves and it's been a blast! The Festival continues today, at the UCLA campus and Wavers, it is amazing. So creep on out of your writing caves and check it out today between 10am and 5pm. It's hot though, wear your sunscreen.

The early bird deadline for the Silver Screenwriting Competition is also this Thursday, May 1st. So submit now to receive the special early bird discounted fee.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Friday, April 25, 2008

In Development

Hello, Wavers! The Wave-inatrix has been a little bit on the down low the past few days; tomorrow I will be at the LA Times Festival of Books and there is a flurry of activity to be ready for that. If you live in the area, be sure to come to our booth and say hi. Plus we will be raffling free 15 minute story consultations twice a day, so take advantage of that.

I'm just back from the best prop house ever - History for Hire, here in LA. Wavers, if you haven't ever been to a prop house, it's really pretty wild. Rows and rows of manacles, parasols, typewriters, hair dryers, telephones, record players, cameras, swords, skeletons, skulls, satchels, hat boxes and more. And this particular prop house, as is implied in their name, rents props to television and feature films looking for historically accurate items.

It was like the best antique store EVER because the things they have are authentic, beat-up in many cases and featured in many movies you have seen. They had Indiana Jones' leather satchel, I saw ceremonial feather-thingies from Cleopatra (you know what I mean, don't be snarky) and the swords and shields from The 10 Commandments. Wow, movie history right there - dusty and lined up on shelves in a giant warehouse. For a movie geek like me, it was really an amazing experience. I think I blacked out for a minute there and swiped a stapler from Good Night and Good Luck. The security guy ran me down in the parking lot though.

If you're like me - and you know you are - sometimes reading the trades is a bit of a boring, eyeball-blurring experience. But kids, we do need to know what's out there, what's sold and what's in development, do we not?

So I thought for your Friday enjoyment, that I'd post the projects listed on Studio System as being officially in development for this week. What in the heck does "in development" really mean, right? It means everything from a green light, meaning giddy-up, let's start casting this puppy, to "wow, sounds cool, we'd like to put this in development". Which sounds like what it is - not a green light but still a huge step forward. And we all know how beautifully F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote about the ever illusive green light. So here you go, food for thought. Read it and weep:

Hot for Teacher: A high school senior sets out to have sex with his teacher before he graduates.
Paramount Pictures
J.J. Abrams, producer
Jan Dyer, spec script

Drill Team: No Summary
Rogue Pictures
Offspring and Tri Destined Films
Gregory Anderson, spec script

Hunter's Moon: No Summary (based on a graphic novel)
Facilitator Films
Boom! Studios
James L. White, graphic novel and script

Jack: A doctor rehabilitates and ultimately falls in love with an accident victim suffering from memory loss, who is unaware that he is actually a killer.
Bold Films
Joseph Ruben, director
David Venable, script
Greenlit

Adoration of Jenna Fox: A teenage girl awakes from a coma and can't remember a thing. As her memory slowly comes back to her, things get strange. She finds her body is manufactured and her memories might be too. She embarks on a journey to find out if she is human--and what that means.
Fox 2000
Mary E. Pearson, source material

Deep Sea Cowboys: Titan Salvage travels all over the world to salvage giant, sinking ships an their cargo.
Dreamworks, SKG
Joshua Davis, source material

River of Gold: In 1848, in the midst of the Mexican-American war, Trinidad Garica’s land is taken away. He soon escapes with his family to Apache territory, where he knows of an abandon gold mine near the Mexican boarder. Trinidad’s family struggles against all odds including Apache warriors, American invaders, and a bounty hunter while trying to reach for safety.
(Spanish language)
Mantarraya Producciones
Pablo Aldrete, Director, script

Saving Private Perez
: A Mexican crime lord is forced by his mother to plan a suicidal rescue mission to find his lost brother in the most unexpected place on Earth.
Lemon Films (Mexico)
Beto Gomez, Director, Script

Rites of Spring
: A father, intent on avenging his son's murder, crosses paths with a serial killer.
Cerenzie-Peters Productions
Padraiq Reynolds, Director, Script

Bad, Bad Leroy Brown: Based on the song by Jim Croce about an apparent criminal who, due to his size, harbors a reputation as the "baddest man in the whole damn town."
Parallel Zide
Jim Croce, Writer

Yeah, that's right. I retyped all of that for you Wavers, laboriously and with love. Have a great weekend! Now get back to work!



If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Arc, Who Goes There?

By Christopher Keane

Let me try to clear up for some of you out there what a CHARACTER ARC is. Everybody bandies about character arcs as if they know what they’re talking about, and some of them do. Some of them don’t.

One of the best definitions I’ve heard is this: the moment by moment, scene by scene, act by act decision-making process a character goes through during the course of the story.

That’s all well and good. He decides to take a bath. She decides to kill her mother-in-law. He decides to kill her mother-in-law. She decides to run a bath to drown out the sound of murder.

Lets narrow down that definition: the moment by moment, scene by scene, act by act high stakes decision-making process a character goes through during the course of the story. A decision making process that involves the choice between two very different and equally balanced options. About five of them per script.

That’s better. It’s the toughest decisions a character has to make, the ones that will give the character his or her character. The decisions that are not overloaded on one side or the other that the writer makes so obvious and predictable that the story flattens out and the character becomes a vehicle for the writer’s lazy half-assed attempt to get across a point.

That leads to the question: What is character?

Character is the behavior that a character shows as a result of his decisions over the course of the story. It’s the writer’s job, let’s call obligation, to balance the choices in such a way that the character, at the most critical moment under pressure, has to make.

Let’s say that the character has five such high stakes, high-pressured decisions during the course of the story. And if one were to study the progression of these decision one might see that the character has, during this time and under these given set of circumstances, significantly changed his or her way of thinking and acting.

A weak woman becomes strong; a confident man turns to jelly.

For instance let’s say a Seattle brain surgeon is rushing to a hospital where he has to perform emergency surgery on, say, a South African heart surgeon who is world renowned for his medical breakthroughs. The South African will not survive unless our Seattle doc operates within the next hour.

Our Seattle brain surgeon is the only man alive who can possibly save this South African, and let’s face it, if successful, which the brain surgeon believes he will be, his own reputation will be greatly enhanced.

Native American tribes inhabit many areas of the Great Pacific Northwest. It just so happens that as the Seattle brain surgeon speeds along a remote highway towards the hospital to perform his emergency operation he spies a couple of Native American women in an old sedan by the side of the road. The sedan is on fire. The Native American women are trapped inside, hands pressed against the glass, crying out.

It won’t be long before they’re engulfed in flames and perish. The brain surgeon is the only one around and he knows it. The question is: will he stop to save the women and certainly lose the famous doctor, or will he push on to the hospital and leave the women to die.

He has a split second to decide.

These are the kind of critical decisions that your character must face in order to show what she’s made of. If her decision comes in the beginning of the story and she chooses to leave the women and go to the hospital, she has room to become someone else by the end of the story. Or if she stops to save the women and the famous doctor dies, she has room to grow and become a different woman by the end of the story.

It’s your decision, your character. Look at the pressure this woman is under. Look at the elements inherent in each decision, the prejudices, the self-interest to consider, the consequences. And they all roll through her in no time at all.

Hit the break or hit the accelerator. These character elements can, and will, turn a mediocre story into a memorable one.

It’s called the character arc. Try it. It should improve your script

-Chris Keane has written many books, originals and adaptations of others’ books and his own into movies and TV series. Among his books are three on screenwriting. His latest – ROMANCING THE A-LIST: Writing the Script the Big Stars Want to Make.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

From the Mailbag

Dear Wave-inatrix, I have a question about your business. Why do you have a Board of Advisors, are you part of a college?
-Cheeky in Chico

Dear Cheeky, actually it's an Advisory Board and yes, The Script Department is a branch of Harvard Law School. Ha.

Here's the deal - our Advisory Board is made up of colleagues and professionals who are my mentors. They provide guidance and support in all of my business decisions. They keep me honest, they keep me accountable and sometimes, they keep me from jumping off a cliff. Plus they like my cupcakes.


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Ding Dong!

By PJ McIlvaine

Recently a very good pal of mine asked me which of his scripts I thought he should enter in Nicholls. It took me all of two seconds to decide (it’s the one with a cute twist on par with LIAR LIAR). Anyway, I gave him my thoughts, dove back into my own writing…until something happened while blow drying my hair (I wasn’t electrocuted, but close).

The universe imploded, time stopped, chills ran up and down my spine. I had that slap myself upside the head illumination (like Harvey Fierstein in INDEPENDENCE DAY when he’s stuck in his car blabbing on his cell, he glances in the rear view mirror, sees that fireball bearing down on him and he blurts “oh merde!”). I wasn’t in a car, I was in my bedroom, and all sorts of bells, fireworks, car alarms, fire sirens, trumpets, tubas and fat ladies were honking all over the place.

All this commotion wasn’t about my script. It was about my pal’s! The most perfect, unexpected, straight out belly laugh out loud plot point and mouth dropping twist that for the life of me, I couldn’t recall ever seeing done before. I felt like Isaac Newton when the apple fell. This twist was so dead on perfect I’m still wondering where the hell it came from. God Almighty, why hadn’t I thought it up before? Duh!

It’s that magical, mystical alignment of stars and moons under which you think of something so out of the box, maybe even something so completely improbable, impossible and totally illogical, but which fits like a glove. You may think of other ways to do it or proceed, you might bat it around in your head the way my cats do with their catnip toys, you might even discard it, but you go back to it because it can be no other way. It’s written in stone, like when Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton first laid eyes on each other. That forbidden love spawned a scandal that broke up two marriages and it even led the Vatican to condemn Taylor for her “erotic vagrancy”. (Yeah, in today’s world of illegitimate designer baby bumps, doesn’t that sound quaint?).

You know what I’m talking about: The Ding Dong Moment. It might not make sense to anyone else, but it makes perfect sense to you. You take the plunge, close your eyes, jump off the plane without a parachute and pray for a soft landing. When it works, it’s a beautiful thang.

Many times I’ll be mulling over a plot point or get to a point in my script where I’m stymied. Instead of beating my head against the wall, I walk away and do something else, like bake something yummy or walk around the neighborhood. Physically I may not be actually sitting my butt down with my laptop, yet in actuality, my subconscious is going a mile a minute doing the writing for me. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, something will pop into my head, something out of the random deep blue sea---and it works, it fits, it’s that high-five, pie in the sky moment. Keep me in a steady supply of ding dongs and I’m a happy woman.

Unfortunately, the hard part is when you’re so totally besotted with your ding dong moment (or even your ding dong script, I have those too) but nobody else is. They hate it, can’t see it for beans. You get royally dinged, slammed with a two by four, stomped on like a garbage can. It’s agony. It sucks a thousand deaths. How come they don’t get your ding dong? It’s so doggone dead on!

Well, with age, time and distance, I freely admit that sometimes my ding dong moments were more of the “ding a ling” variety: what the hell was I thinking of when I dreamed up that frothing pile of crapola?

I once wrote a script called LADY BLUE, a drama (or so I mistakenly believed) about a down to earth woman who just wanted the basics out of life, you know, love, stability, and kids. She fell in love with a singer/musician with big talent and bigger dreams. She pined faithfully at home with their kid while he was out on the road getting high and whoring it up. They’d break up only to make up, finally she had enough and kicked him out for good. He became a super star, she followed her dreams but they never stopped loving each other. She’s his muse (the aforementioned Lady Blue), he’s in her blood, many sad scenes of sobbing in hotel rooms.

Honestly, I had no idea how to end it until I had my ding dong moment: he winds up in the hospital in need of a heart transplant, she conveniently gets shot in the head during an attempted kidnapping, and she winds up comatose and brain dead. Her present husband, a genuinely nice guy, after days of soul searching and torment, pulls the plug and consents to …ahem.

At the time, I thought it was a brilliant ding dong. Today, I can’t even tell you where the damn thing is. For all I know, it could be with Saddam’s WMD’s. Stop laughing. It sounded like a winner. What do you want from me? Some dongs fit better than others.




If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Pacino and DeNiro - Washed Up?

From today's LA Times by Patrick Goldstein:

I thought Francis Ford Coppola was being cranky last fall when he badmouthed Al Pacino and Robert De Niro -- the stars of Coppola's immortal "Godfather" films -- for taking parts for the money and losing their passion for doing great work. "I met both Pacino and De Niro when they were really on the come," Coppola told GQ magazine. "Now Pacino is very rich, maybe because he never spends any money; he just puts it in his mattress. . . . They all live off the fat of the land."

Coppola was right on the money. The two icons of '70s New Hollywood, heroes to a generation of young actors and filmmakers, have become parodies of themselves, making payday movies and turning in performances that are hollow echoes of the electrically charged work they did in such films as "Serpico," "Dog Day Afternoon," "Mean Streets" and "Taxi Driver."


Click here for the whole article...

So what do you Wavers think? Agree? Disagree? What's your favorite film for each actor?




If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Genre Bending Part Two

By Margaux Froley Outhred

For a writer to succeed in the entertainment industry, they need to have a voice that can show off their brand of writing. After “Juno” came out, all agents wanted to read was something with “voice”. High concept specs started going out the window in favor of off-kilter and quirky scripts. No one seemed to care if there was a page 60 complication in a script as long as the writer had “voice” and created new characters. I can see from an agent perspective why this push for “voice” is so popular in finding new talent. However, “voice” doesn’t always equate to good or interesting, or more important, to a lasting career and profitable movies.

And this is the funny thing, “voice” on the page creates cute quirky movies like “Juno” and “Little Miss Sunshine”, but, what kind of voice does that writer have long-term? What do these writers say about themselves and their take on the world? Not a whole lot. Yes, there is probably some underlying message in both movies, but one you’d have to dig for. Diablo Cody already has her next few projects written and ready to go. They vary in genre, but her voice is there, loud and clear. Time will tell, but I’d be willing to make the case that the voice that created her will also sink her in the long run unless she figures out what she’s really saying with that voice.

But, back to being a normal working writer trying to get lift-off in this industry. This is where being consistent with genre can come into play and help you. Getting good at nailing a genre can become your voice, your trademark in town. When a manager or agent sends your high-concept thriller spec wide around the town, there are a lot of people who will see you as a thriller person. Especially if that thriller sells for lots of money, or makes it into theaters and becomes #1. Everyone will want your secret in their hands; they’ll want to harness your voice, your skill, for their own company. So what happens when that successful writer turns around and says they feel like writing a family comedy instead? Everyone becomes very polite, and quiet, and secretly whispers at drinks meetings how much they wish that writer would stay in his/her wheelhouse and go back to writing thrillers. The new script could be twice as brilliant, but, your brand just shifted and now you’ve become harder to identify. When a company hires you they don’t know if they are hiring the thriller you, or the family comedy you. While production companies have a sea of writers to pull from, agencies want you to be an easy sell. If they can’t pin you down for a style or voice, or can’t guarantee what you will deliver, they will move onto the next writer on their list that can and pitch that writer to the production companies. There is always an exception to this, there is always that one agent who will fight for you no matter what, but, they are few and far between, and even that agent has overhead. (and if you know that agent, can you send me his number?)

As a writer, or even actor or director, you need to find your voice, and thus, your brand to sell. Madonna, Oprah, Martha Stewart, Donald Trump, these are brands. Quentin Tarantino, Diablo Cody, The Cohen Brothers, these are brands where you know what you’re going to get. They might tell widely different stories, but you still can count on a certain voice or take to come from their stories. (Well, the jury is still out on Diablo’s take besides quick quips, but I do give her a lot of credit for bringing a different type of female to the big screen.) The best thing you can do as a writer is find your own brand. It not only helps you become easier to track around town, but it makes selling your work easier on your reps, it probably even guarantees your pitches sell better because people know what they’re going to get. There are a lot of valid reasons for creative freedom, but, if you really want to make a career and buy that vacation house on the beach, it’s all about branding yourself.



If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Genre Bending


Another great question from the mailbag deftly answered by our own Margaux Froley Outhred in this first of a two-part answer:

Dear Wave-inatrix:
You once mentioned that moving from RomComs to Thrillers was a really smart move for you... why is that? What are the pros and cons of "getting married" to a genre? I have noticed that my scripts vary a lot genre wise. For example, I have a gritty drama in the vein of Amores Perros, but also a family drama in the vein of Ordinary People, a road-movie/comedy like Little Miss Sunshine and a dark, gothic thriller that could be comparable to Sweeney Todd. Do you always do thrillers? Is it because they are easier to sell for you or because you're "mastering" the genre? What do you think of varying a lot genre wise? I know there are no hard rules about this, but just wanted to hear your opinion.
-
Signed, Fruitful in Florida

Margaux deftly answers:

Dear Fruitful:

This is a great question, especially coming from a writing craft perspective.

A lot of writers go through this genre dance as they are getting their feet wet in screenwriting and really discovering their own voice. And, by the way, this dance sometimes takes years. Really mastering a craft does not happen in a year or two, so writers shouldn’t get discouraged if their work might not all mesh together into a cohesive genre and voice right off the bat.

As a general rule, as writers solidify their voice, they will start to gravitate towards writing certain types or kinds of stories. Potentially these stories could cover a variety of genres, but they are essentially about the same story. As creative people, writers see and process the world with their own distinct shade of glasses, and it’s that individual interpretation that writers bring to the page. In my case, my first handful of feature films covered a wide variety of genres: from an urban drama, an action movie, a family adventure film, to a romantic comedy. However, despite large differences on the surface, these movies were all essentially about the same thing, “Don’t judge a book by its cover”. As a creative person, this is more or less my own issue or “take” that I put out into the world. As a paradigm, I love inventing crazy worlds that can happen to someone underneath the normal façade they project into society. I’m brainstorming a new thriller feature idea that uncovers a dark secret underneath a “normal” apartment complex. But for me, it took writing at least three features to notice that common theme running through them all.

Steven Spielberg’s projects are often underdog stories. He highlights heroes in many worlds, from Schlinder’s List to Indiana Jones. J.J. Abrams is focused on mysteries. In most of his projects there is always an elusive mystery keeping the audience in their chair. A lot of the real creators out there do have this consistency in their work, and this separates true storytellers from mere moviemakers. Can anyone tell me what Brett Ratner’s movies say about his take on the world? They’re actually consistent from what I can surmise of his personality, someone who gravitates towards the tits and ass of the world. Good explosions, fight sequences, a rotating casting couch of beautiful and well-endowed women. These elements are actually consistent with Ratner owning a fancy, historic Hollywood house, his friendship with Robert Evans; this is a glamour man, through and through, and his movies are just that. Vapid glamour in all its glory. And that’s not a judgment, well, maybe a little, but, while Brett’s material might not say very much, it still projects his worldview.

The original question asked about the Wavintarix’s transition from rom com to thrillers? I saw it happen and it was a true shift worth sharing (hope you don’t mind, Miss Rouge Wave). When I was the Director of Development at Writers Boot Camp, Julie gave me a script she had finished. With a few scripts already under her belt, this script was the one Julie was most proud of, and should have been her best work to date. It was a supernatural rom com with quite a cute premise. But that was also the problem, there was something not connecting in it. It was almost too cute, the jokes were good but not laugh-out-loud; all of this, however, hinged on an intriguing story. My theory is that Julie often writes about a character’s breaking point; how far can someone be pushed before they crack. (Again, Julie, correct me if I’m wrong, but this might be a good working theory). So, even though what Julie’s script was about was intriguing, it’s a tough story to execute with a romantic comedy tone. I dutifully gave Julie some notes on how to improve the script, but really, I wasn’t sure it could be salvaged. When Julie put her head down and cranked out a 2nd draft of this rom com, it became a good script, but still not a great one. At this point even Julie was frustrated. My notes were similar the second time around. Technically everything was solid and working, but, something still kept the reader at a distance, and for one of the first times with my script reading, I was stumped on how to help her any more.

Two months later Julie slammed a script down on my desk. Well, she probably didn’t slam it on my desk, but her energy was dramatically different. Instead of a friendly writer looking for encouragement sitting in my office, this commanding woman walked in and told me to read this script because she nailed it. I read the script that night, and yes, she did nail it. I called her first thing the next day. This new thriller with a very different story than her rom com, yet still told the story of a character pushed over the edge, was a terrific psychological thriller. Her voice finally aligned with the material and Julie’s talent was able to shine through. While Julie is both funny and romantic, my guess is that her take on the world tends to explore the dark side of personalities, which gravitates towards thriller films. That could always change for Julie, but for now, she has found a great home in the thriller genre.

So, yes, while writers can tell their story through various genres, some voices are best utilized by certain genre conventions and tones. And again, this is from a pure craft perspective of just a writer discovering and solidifying his or her own voice. However, for many of us, writing is also a business, or the hope of a business. And this is where this consistent voice also comes into play.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

From the Mailbag

As far as the whole "non-screenwriting savvy friends for feedback" thing - I know you probably shouldn't attach too much weight to what they say, but aren't "non-screenwriting savvy" people your audience should the thing get produced? I think it's absolutely necessary to get feedback from people who know what they're talking about, but why are non-savvy people kind of not as valid (apparently, anyway)?

If it works on the page for people who know about screenwriting, but doesn't for others, that's a problem in my book. Is there truth in that?

-Worried in Chicago

Dear Worried -

This is a great question. In the Wave-inatrix's opinion, "non-screenwriting savvy" feedback is of limited and questionable value and here's why:

Ostensibly this is a friend, relative or acquaintance who is likely, because they aren't savvy within this world, be over-impressed by reading what for them may be their first feature script, and in addition feel socially compelled to be kind to you and to the material because you have solicited a trusting favor from them.

In other words, they don't get the format and they're trying to be nice. Unless you get one of those sour grape types who takes your script smilingly and then eviscerates it and you with a polite fervor because they thought you wanted "honest feedback", i.e., an excuse to rip you to shreds. Has anyone had that happen? A show of hands? I have.

But primarily, here's the thing - yes, the general public is who lines up at the box office and makes this whole enterprise possible, yes? So they do vote, with their behinds, what stories they like to see. So they are important. When you are coming up with your idea.

You can pitch to a few friends and see how they react, i.e., would you like to see this in a movie theater? That's a great way to test the idea out.

But once you've got the script written, there really is a skill set in interpreting the pages onto a mental screen. There are execution issues on the page that shape the pacing of your narrative and the arc of your character. Non-script readers won't be able to tell the difference between a well-wrought character arc and a non-character arc beyond - I dunno, I just didn't like the ending. Or something.

They won't be able to pinpoint what and where the problem is, they'll just say, I kinda got lost in some parts. When what you need to hear is - your structure is fu-barred.

Or - OMG are you going to get Woody Harrelson to play the bad guy?! Because a non-screenwriting friend will be tickled with that movie magic fairy dust and not really able to grasp how very, very, very far away we are from dreaming about stars for the part at this point.

Picture your script as a car at a car show. Yeah, it looks great from the outside, nice paint job, great extras, shiny exhaust pipes - but a real afficionado wants to look under the hood, right? They want to look at the guts, at the machinery, so that the exterior is frosting. Non-screenwriters can't get much beyond the surface and even if they do, their comments are nominally helpful at best, simply because they don't speak our language.

So, Worried in Chicago - in my opinion and in my experience, I would say that initial feedback should come from people in your screenwriting group or other online screenwriting friends. Pitch your ideas to your cousins and pals, but leave the under-the-hood checks to those who know what should be under the hood and why it makes the car so gorgeous on the outside as well.



If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Got a Great TV Pilot?

Hello, Wavers - this just in:

Dear Writers, Actors and Filmmakers:

FX is looking for their next big COMEDY pilot TV show - similar to It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. If you have an over-the-top comedy Pilot TV show, here's the LINK

If you have one, or know someone who might be interested, pass it on!

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

In the First Person

Wishful Thinking
by Adam Hong

I would be lying if I say I remember how my grandmother died. But hearing the story so many times, in so many points of view, I have my take on her death. In all versions, I had something to do with it. In mine, I killed her, not intentionally, of course, because I was barely two years old.

I was born with a cleft lip, a birth defect that had kept my grandmother away for the first twenty months of my life. I was too young to be ashamed of my deformity, but my poor mother was the topic on everybody’s tongue. A month after my surgery to fix the cleft lip, almost two years after I was born, I met my grandmother for the first time. She was hovering her crumbled face over my crib, squinting her clouded eyes at me and introducing me to her ill-fitting dentures. I was sure my freshly stitched lip was the focal point of her attention. She was a seventy-one-year-old woman who was built and looked like a sharpie -- husky, squarish snout, and all skin. As she leaned closer, close enough for me to count her grays sprouting out of her bottomless nostrils, her skin hung forth and dripped off her face like melting wax. Something had dripped off her face, and strung from the split where her lips supposed to be. I let out a horrific scream and defenselessly grabbed hold of the skin from her neck, pulling this liquid dispenser out of my way. She jerked her head back, lost her balance and hit her head against my mother’s dresser. She was in coma for two weeks, and died the day I had the stitches removed from my lip.

That is how I tell this story. My mother, however, has different version each time she recalls the past.

“Don’t underestimate the power of your wishful thinking,” she nodded her head and claimed the death of my grandmother was a direct result from her deep desire for her to drop dead. “Sometimes if you want something bad enough, it will happen. But how it happens is in the Lord’s hands.” Then she continued on to the death of my father in an auto accident, a year after my grandmother’s. “See, my son, when you were born I was only twenty-nine years old, and there already were ten of you. In ten more years there’d be twenty of you. That is a scary thought, isn’t it? So I prayed and prayed hard, praying for my fertility come to an end, for my womb dry out like a desert. I prayed in my sleep. I prayed when your father on top of me. The Old Lord finally granted me my wish, but not without his wicked power. Instead of answering my prayers in the simplest way, he took your father away in an instant. Don’t underestimate the power of your wishful thinking.”

If that is true, mother, I completely understand your motivation.

****

And that, Wavers, is one helluva 1st person essay by a very talented screenwriter. It starts off with a shocking claim and it segues into some personal, painful truths. That, my dear Wavers, is how it's done. In 500 words, Adam took us on a journey which was relatable and compelling. Great work, Adam!

If you have a completed 500 word 1st person essay or would like to take a crack at it, please submit HERE.


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Queen of the Desert


The thing about cactus flowers is this - they are hard to find. You wouldn't think so, since the desert is a dun-colored palette, but as you pick your way over the rocks carefully, you find yourself looking up, quite unexpectedly, to find a bright fuschia bloom peeking out from behind a giant boulder. And it's the most delightful surprise.

Joshua Tree is a very special place. The vast blue dome of sky, the heat that rises up off the sandy desert floor and a silence so very still that you can literally hear the shushing of a hawk's wings overhead. How often do we get to be in such silence? We are surrounded by noise and stimulation so often that going to the desert and being in such spacious silence is almost other-worldly.

The desert in spring struck the Wave-inatrix as such a metaphor for life - if you spend your time hiking through the desert only looking for the cactus blooms, you can easily get lost because you weren't paying attention to other landmarks. The desert is a dangerous place. But if you only spend your time navigating the rocks, careful where to place your feet as you hike - you miss finding the cactus blossoms in all their secret, vivid glory.

If you live too far from the desert to enjoy a day trip, here are some of my favorite movies about or set in a desert (or desert-y outback) that are an absolute must:

Picnic at Hanging Rock
The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert
Walkabout
A Cry in the Dark

All of these movies are, coincidentally, Aussie films. I highly recommend them all, but particularly the haunting Picnic at Hanging Rock. Peter Weir is a true auteur, and the way he used camera angles and sound to create a sense of awe and dread in Picnic is nothing short of spectacular.

Picnic and Walkabout are both film school staples but remember, just because you may not have gone to film school doesn't mean you can't enjoy and appreciate these magnificent films in your own home. Yes, they are over 30 years old but believe me - they hold up.

So go on down to your local video store and load up on your Aussie and desert-themed movies, Wavers. I love having themed movie-marathons. These are all amazing films and when you've seen them all, your face will hurt from laughing so hard along with Priscilla and after A Cry in the Dark, you'll finally be able to say, with authority - the dingo got the baby.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Friday, April 18, 2008

The Good Dearth

Okay how many Rouge Wavers recognize that spin on Pearl Buck's The Good Earth? A show of hands? Anybody? A very good read, by the way.

In yesterday's Hollywood Wiretap- and if you don't have a daily email subscription, do yourself a favor and sign up now - there was an article about the dearth - oops, let's pause briefly for this vocabulary break:

Dearth: A scarce supply; a lack.

Back to scene: ...about the dearth of spec scripts that has caused executives to look to magazine articles and books for film material.

The $64,000 question (and no, thank you very much, I am NOT old enough to have been a fan of the show, ergo the link for you fellow youthfully dewy writers) is - WHY? Why did writers not take advantage of the strike to write more spec material?

No, I change my mind. The question is not why is there a dearth of spec scripts right now, the only important question here is what are we going to do about it? Wavers - where are you with your script(s) right now? Because the bell tolls for thee. In a good way.

This is a great time of year to get your material out there. The competition is always stiff but relative to the predicted tsunami of specs - it's not that bad. This, guys, is the time.

Cannes, arguably the most prestigious film festival in the world is coming up on May 14 through the 25th. If you've got spec material to query, do it by May 1st to catch the full attention of those who will be shortly decamping for France. And wait about a week after Canne - so perhaps June 1st or so to query again (or more).

I predict a very busy summer of reading, requests and deal-making. So Wavers, consider this the kick-in-the-well-toned-butt you need - take advantage of the dearth. If executives are reading articles in magazines about deep sea treasure hunters (kinda cool, actually) then they might be pretty tempted by your fully completed feature script about a diving impressario in love with a dangerous cliff diver. I can't stress this enough - NOW IS THE TIME.


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Original Ideas

...so I'm on the phone with Go Daddy this morning asking why in the &%$ The Silver Screenwritingwebsite was experiencing grievous technical problems earlier today (problem solved) when the customer service guy said - so, you work with screenplays, huh? Can I ask you a question? Why has there not been one original idea to come out of Hollywood in fifteen years?

Rather than say here what I said to him in reply - the Wave-inatrix was curious - what do you Wavers think about that statement? Is it true? If there's any truth to it (and there certainly is, to a degree) then why? Why so many remakes and sequels? What would you have said to this guy?

If there's a delay before your comments are posted it's because the W is actually - wait for it - taking a mental health day out in the desert. But fear not, we shall discuss this when and if you comment. Commenters always get mental cupcakes, dontcha know.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

In the First Person

By Rouge Waver Diane Stredicke

I still have trouble calling myself a screenwriter.

I walk into my writing group every other Tuesday which meets in Times Square and we have to go around the table, introduce ourselves, and, of course, the introduction starts with, "Hello. My name is. And I'm a screenwriter."

You see, I've never actually been paid to write a screenplay. And because long ago I equated what you do with what you get paid for, when someone asks me what I do, I immediately fall to the thing which pays my rent, buys my food, supports my family.

I recently attended a film festival. A script I wrote won an award. And the whole day at the festival was spent introducing me to others as a screenwriter. As the day wore on, I got used to the title. My real life, my real job, slipped into the background. It helped that I was on the other coast. The coast where they actually make movies. The coast whose entire identity is caught up with movie making. There, everyone writes movies. There, everyone seems to be an actor, a director, a producer or a screenwriter.

It was amazing how easily it slipped off my tongue.

"Me? I'm a screenwriter."

And no one asked me what I do for a living. No one asked how I pay my rent. It was my secret for the day. There was no separation between those paid, and those unpaid. We were all writers. Together. Being celebrated.

On the plane, flying back to my reality, I secretly hoped that some unsuspecting average Joe would ask me, "What do you do?" I was ready for them this time.

But no one did.

No one looked at me while I flipped through a script. No one payed attention while I worked on a script in Final Draft.

I was just like everyone else on the plane. A working stiff. Doing what I do. To live.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Movie Posters

I was so green with jealousy I looked like I was at the casting call for Wicked. And all because the other day the Wave-inatrix was in the office of an executive who had a giant framed poster of Blue Velvet behind his desk. I mean, it was huge. I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

Much like I couldn't take my eyes off of Sydney Pollack, dining at Canter's the other day. Oh, how I wanted to worship at his feet. But decency and respect demanded that I be satisfied with a secret, awe-struck stare.

By far the best poster I have seen in an executive's office was a vintage poster of Kid Creole and the Coconuts. The exec explained to me that he'd peeled it off the metro wall in Paris during the 80s. Now that was a cool poster.

Again with the digressing. Managers, agents and execs have great movie posters in their offices - from vintage movies to cult classics. So what? Well, movie posters sport the all-important tagline. Which is, at long last, today's topic. The tagline is that very pithy, evocative, catchy phrase which encapsulates the core entertainment of the movie.

Some examples:

Imagine your life hangs by a thread. Imagine your body hangs by a wire. Imagine you're not imagining. - Coma

Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope can set you free. - The Shawshank Redemption

What if this guy got you pregnant? - Knocked Up

It takes a real man to become a maid of honor.
- Made of Honor

On every street in every city, there's a nobody who dreams of being a somebody. - Taxi Driver

How much can you know about yourself if you've never been in a fight? - Fight Club

So, Wavers - what would the poster for your movie say? Can you come up with a short, memorable and descriptive tagline for your poster? This isn't just a fun, what-if flight of fancy, by the way. The ability to think up the tagline is a necessary part of coalescing and articulating the essence of your script.

When you practice articulating that essence as a premise line, pitch and poster - you are also practicing making sure that the core entertainment of your story will be on every single page of your script.

So go for it - what would the poster for your movie look like and say?



If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Psychology Today


The other day, the Wave-inatrix was lucky enough to be invited to a conference given by Script Department client Jeff Cotton. I know it's hard to believe, looking at the picture of the Wave-inatrix but yes, I am the exhausted mama of two teenagers. Jeff's seminar was indispensable for parents.

Writer that I am, as I copiously took notes, I began to look and listen from a writing point of view. Jeff works with kids in the foster care and mental health system so many of them are in a great deal of psychic pain. When Jeff talked about triggers for teens and outlined them on the board, it struck me that this was also invaluable information for understanding characters. We all know it is common to run into psychological issues as a teenager and then tuck those issues neatly into a tiny package and carry that on into adulthood. So this stuff can easily apply to one of your characters.

Jeff outlined several themes of emotional trouble that can then be triggered:

Self-esteem
Abandonment
Sexual abuse
Physical abuse

So if a child has issues of abandonment, simply turning off the light and shutting the bedroom door can be a trigger. If self-esteem is a theme underlying your troubled kid (or character) a rejection can be a huge trigger.

So it struck me that as part of our learning curve as writers, we need to really think about the psychology of our characters. Characters in movie scripts and people in real life are sort of like the difference between street makeup and theatrical makeup. Characters in movies are a bit exaggerated, right? Well, I don't know, I have some family members who are right straight out of Big Fish but maybe that's just me.

Lately, I have been doing an interesting exercise with my clients who are struggling with the flaw of their main character. I ask them - what is the flaw? And they say something like, she wants her father's approval. And I say that's not really a flaw. That might be one of her external wants. But that's not a flaw - that's normal.

So let's back up a step - what's the backstory, how did her father treat her as a child? Oh, let's say she had The Great Santini dad - oh okay, so she had an emotionally abusive father. So she wants her father's approval but really, she NEEDS it.

So how does she act that out, negatively, in the now? Let's say she's very distant from her father and she's an over-achieving narcissist who tramples anyone in her way. Gee, she's starting to sound like Tom Cruise in RAIN MAN. So you look for the backstory, the core of the emotional pain and then extrapolate that out into the now. A character who wants his or her father's approval who nicely, friendily seeks it just ain't an interesting character. Unless he or she snaps because of a trigger, or unless he or she has taken that desire, turned it inside-out and become very negative. Any attention is good attention, right?

I'm no psychology major (or even minor) but there's a lot to be said for thumbing through an issue of Psychology Today and giving some deeper thought to just what makes your character tick.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Dumping Your Manager

A Rouge Waver recently sent us a great question, which our own PJ McIlvaine  handily answered here:

QUESTION:

“If you currently have representation (manager/agent) and decide the relationship isn't working out, what is the correct way to proceed to find new representation? Do you say goodbye to Manager 1 before saying hello to Manager 2 or is it like a job where you should find a new one before losing the old one?

In the same vein, if you currently have only one form of representation, what is the protocol about going after an agent (if you currently have a manager) or going after a manager (if you currently have an agent). Are you under obligation to inform the current person of you interest in said new person/relationship, or are these two different worlds?

- "Sleepless in Seattle”

PJ ANSWERS HANDILY:

Hey, Sleepless, thanks for a great question. I’ve been in this situation, and it’s a toughie. It’s been said that it’s better to have no agent than a bad one. I don’t know of any handbook called “101 Ways to Leave a Bad Manager/Agent”, or that there’s even a totally correct or wrong way, but let me tell you what I did. (I’m prefacing my answer based on the belief that you’ve tried to work things out with your current manager/agent, it hasn’t, you’ve given it a lot of thought, and you’ve come to the reluctant but necessary decision that for the sake of your career, your goals and your peace of mind that you have to make the move).

There’s nothing wrong or untoward with making discreet inquiries to a potential new manager/agent while you’re with the old one. If a potential rep questions why you’re leaving your current one, you simply trot out the universally accepted “creative differences” answer. There’s no reason to blab that the real reason you’re quitting the son of a bitch is that he blew your last deal because he was too busy lounging in the Caribbean to make a lousy phone call. Be professional at all times. It’s a small community, agents and managers work and play together, and you sure as heck don’t want to get the reputation of being a “difficult client”.

I wouldn’t say sayonara to Manager 1 until you gauge where you stand in the food chain. You may think that you’re a prime catch, but others may differ, and that realization alone may cause you to rethink your exit strategy. Plus, it makes no sense to dump one rep for another who may not be any more connected or higher up on the ladder than the one you’re leaving. In other words, sometimes the devil you know is better than the one you don’t.

I’d tell Manager 1 once a firm offer was in place. And however you handle it, if at all possible, leave the old rep on good terms. Most reps accept the fact that clients will leave for any variety of reasons, its standard operating procedure. However, you never know when you might need that connection again. No need to burn bridges unnecessarily.

If you’re with an agent and you want to add a manager to the team, ideally, you should be confident enough in his expertise to ask him for a recommendation on who they think might be a good fit and the same goes for a manager regarding an agent. Why would you pay a commission to separate reps and not have them know about each other? That’s what a team is, all working on the same side for a common goal or good, which is to advance your career. You don’t want them working against each other or at cross-purposes.

Actually, I’d be more concerned if you brought the subject up and the agent/manager balked and refused to give you a referral or a recommendation. Nowadays, it’s very common that most established screenwriters have both, so unless they had a really good take on why you shouldn’t go that route, I’d consider that a red flag. I once had a manager who, whenever I mentioned the idea of getting an agent, got all hot and bothered, so I didn’t pursue it. As it turned out, I stayed with her way too long, but that’s another story.

Wavers - keep those questions and observations coming. It gives us something to do here at the Rouge Wave. Because honestly it can get boring rehashing the same subjects over and over - we are here to serve YOU so BRING IT.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Short Scene Competition: TCN


Well, Wavers - it's that time of year again. No, not tax time - that gets enough air-time, don't you think? No, it's short scene competition time! And this one is a humdinger - the prize is a free pass to the The Great American Pitch Festat the Marriott Burbank, June 20-22nd. That's worth $350, folks.

And all for writing the best short scene containing the words: taxes, cantaloupe, numb.

Deadline is May 1st, submit HERE.

Submission Guidelines:

Submissions must be ONE PAGE only
Semi-finalists must not contain ANY typos or malaprops
PDF or FD submissions only, via EMAIL
3 semi-finalists will be posted on the Rouge Wave on May 7th

Voting Guidelines:

Submissions will be judged by overall execution (format, absence of typos, a clean and clever page) as well as the clever use of the keywords: taxes, cantaloupe, numb. Do not just throw the words in haphazardly - use them well.

The prize is a pretty valuable one, Wavers, so please take this seriously and only send in your best work. The Wave-inatrix will cut zero slack on this one.


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

1st Person

Just a few days ago, I invited Rouge Wavers to work those writing muscles and submit a first person essay (500 words, max) to the Rouge Wave. Some Wavers may know that first person is how the Wave-inatrix got her start, oh so many years ago. And you all must know by now that I hold it be self-evident that writing in many styles and for many venues is a must for a well-trained and toned writer.

What is a first person essay, anyway? Uh, well, it's right in the name. It's written in the first person. First person - or personal essays - can vary in length from 500 to 1200 to 2500 words and up. Most publications ask for 1200 words.

A good first person essay should do a few things: It should have a really great, evocative title. It should stay within the word count limit (a reality in this format), it should have a clear beginning, middle and end. It should wind up with a sentence that summarizes the theme and the point and it should have some "take-away" value - some meaning that the reader can use. You know, tips, inspiration, resources - something that leaves the reader a better person when they're done.

You may be asking yourself - what in tarnation does first person essay writing have to do with movies, screenwriting or the Rouge Wave?! Nothing. And everything. The Rouge Wave is a blog dedicated to more than inspiring, entertaining, informing and occasionally riling screenwriters. It is a place where we talk about screenwriting primarily, but it is also a resource to keep you in shape physically, emotionally ands spiritually for the marathon that we are all running. As people and as writers. Writers write.

But, as per usual, I digress.

Reading great essays is a real pleasure, and something that the Wave-inaxtrix adds as a regular part of my fiction diet. The Sunday New York Times magazine is a great source of first person essays as are many other great publications. Best American Essays is a great place to really start exploring essay writing for those of you who are curious or already big fans.

Let's give a big Rouge Wave congratulations to Jennifer, our first featured Rouge Wave 1st Person writer!

A FEW DEEP BREATHS

By: Jennifer Thomas


I started a new project.

And *gasp* it's not a screenplay!

It's a children's novel. I have all these whimsical thoughts throughout my days caring for children and I finally sat down to write.

And I almost forgot how to write something that's not a screenplay!

It took a few moments for the freedom of words to rush in, but golly I had a lovely time using every inch of my imagination this afternoon folks. Really, really great! I wrote what I thought, what I envisioned. I didn't get caught up in the screenplay woes:

Am I being too literary?
Am I directing?
Describing too much?
Describing the wrong way?
Setting up a major plot in the first 10? The first 10 are so important?
Is there enough white space?
Am I telling and not showing?

...I just wrote.

And I wonder if this is how a pro feels when they write a screenplay.. Do you think that they feel the same ease of writing? That they don't think about all these rules and exceptions and confusions and conventions...they just write? And they trust their own voice, and find peace and calm in screenplay structure.

And then I realize that…

1) They probably all have their moments of self-doubt.
2) They still manage to finish scripts they are proud of..

So, I set aside my magical, whimsical children’s story. And I open up Final Draft. And I stare at my script. The one that I said I’d finish months ago. The one that’s stuck on page 58. The one that I started with exuberance and excitement, until my inner critic got a strangle hold on me.

I take five very deep breaths…

And I just write.

****

All right, Wavers. How did Jennifer do? You can leave constructive comments here on the RW. Cast well-aimed marshmallows, not stones, for you may be next. And quite honestly, kudos are in order because for the most part, Jennifer has written a very nice essay here.

Rouge Wavers interested in toning and firming those writing muscles can submit first person essays for consideration HERE.


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Table Read Comments

The Wave-inatrix mentioned the other day that we had our first table read at The Script Department and it was a smashing success! Today we received this email from the writer:

I wanted you to know that the TABLE READ was a
fantastic learning experience. I will never look at a
script the same way again. It completely changed my
perception of what I have to do as a writer.
Basically, my job is to let the ACTORS tell the story!
Dialog is indeed king.

I loved every minute of the table read and appreciate
the wonderful opportunity to hear my script read aloud
by professional actors. Every writer out there should
experience it. Thank God I was lucky enough to have a
writer's angel like you to help me.


Ah - that's music to our ears. You're welcome, Anne.


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

The Gerund is the Th-ing

The Wave-inatrix has charged me with looking at a rather specific bit of writing principle as it pertains to screenwriting. I have to admit that grammar always gives me the willies because it was taught to me by the only person that I ever actually wished would die - my 8th grade English teacher. Not only was she the most evil woman that ever lived, but she taught archaic
grammar that was twenty years out of date in the 1980's and has ever since plagued my existence with editors. OK, enough griping....

So it seems there is a bit of a disagreement over whether gerunds should be used in action lines of screenplays. I've always liked the word gerund in and of itself. It makes me laugh for some reason. I don't know why, really. Any way, just as a refresher a gerund is typically when you take a verb and add "-ing" to the end. The result is that you take something finite like "walk" or "walks" and make in non-finite such as "walking". An example of this would be that "walk" or "to walk" means to place one foot in front of the other and move. That's it, nothing more. Move forward on feet. Whereas "walking" is usually modified by adverbs or a preposition of some sort such as "walking down the street" or "walking slowly". So how does this translate to screenwriting?

I can see an argument for not using gerunds in action lines for you want your characters doing definitive things. You don't want them to be passive. Also since things are happening at the present time, it makes sense to use that tense. Then there is the notion that you want your screenplay written simply so that executives can breeze through it quickly. A lot of gerunds means lots of modifiers which means more black on the page. And some might say the "how" should be left to the director's interpretation. We are the whipping mules of this medium folks. Sorry. So "he walks" or "she drives" or "it rains" conveys definitive, time pertinent action on the 5th grade reading level that the powers that be seem to adore.

However, I am never one to be confined by too many rules when it comes to writing. There are several ways you can use gerunds to move the action along. For example, if someone were slowly creeping (hee hee) down a dark hallway trying to sneak up on someone, you could write: "Martha walks down a hallway. Creeping. Creeping." Sure you could write "Martha creeps down a hallway," but you aren't drawing it out to create suspense. Mood counts heavily in screenwriting and any way you can move your reader to an emotional response is fair game.

So that's my two cents worth on the subject. Now go forth with your creating. Crap I did it again...sorry Mrs. Koltisko. You old, dead b*tch.


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Friday, April 11, 2008

Innaugural Table Read

Last evening, The Script Department had our very first table read. What a smashing success it was! We had six actors and the Wave-inatrix was the narrator. The writer set up the scene for all of us, with the logline and the intro to the pages that were read and then afterwards, we had a Q&A, with the actors asking questions about the characters, the dialogue and the backstory. And the writer was able to ask the actors, from their perspective, how they felt about the pages themselves.

There were some lines of dialogue that the writer grimly crossed out after hearing them read aloud, and she later said she plans to get rid of a lot of extraneous sluglines and action lines because they slowed the story down too much. The actors passed out headshots and enthusiastically agreed to come to future table reads and the writer emphatically said every writer should have this experience!

And that, dear Wavers, is the plan - again, if you live in the Los Angeles area or can come here for a free table read, please do let us know. We plan to do about one each month - wrangling actors and schedules takes a bit of doing - but you could be next. So if you are interested, go to the SDwebsite and clink on the link for table reads and proceed from there.


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Passion - Without It, Forget It

by Christopher Keane

For a new screenwriter the only way to tear down the Hollywood barriers is to burn them down with your passion. Your passion for the story and for the characters that drive it. Without Passion, your script is no more than a Leggo network of rules and regulations, plot points and pinwheels, bare architectural bones which no one wants to see, or make.

One day my book agent told me to hurry up to his office; he had the next great idea for a novel and I was going to write it. He sat me down and told me that I was going to write a saga, a 400-year multi- generational take on the fur industry.

The fur industry?

Wait, he cried, and proceeded to spin out a tale that began in Thunder Bay, in 1610; the fur trappers that opened up the Mississippi River; St Louis and the gateway to the West; John Jacob Astor’s vast fortune via fur; the great salons in Russia and South Africa. The Communist influence in Congress, the murderous union battles; all told through two families, generation after generation, over four hundred glorious years.

"I even have the title for you,” my agent cried. “Call it - Mink!”

By this time was I was up on his desk with him, inflamed, salivating to write this story. Off I went to the stacks, to the Internet, to furriers, to fisheries and mink farms.

For two years I worked and worked… and failed and failed. I couldn't do it. I couldn’t bear to write another 75 (of the proposed 700) pages on twenty generations of a family and then lose each jump seventy-five years ahead to the next leg of this overbearing journey.

Separation anxiety tore me apart. I could not tolerate another moment of this. Nor did I want to spend another minute with these funny sounding, insubstantial, dull characters. But I’m nothing if not dogged, spurred on by some masochistic fiend driving me from within. I kept kicking this relentless dog.

After two years of daily frustration, a friend asked me a question: “Chris,” she said, seeing my despair, “do you even like to read this kind of tale?”

In fact, I loathed reading these overblown windbag generational sagas. I couldn’t stand to shift locations so often, and families - and gears! It took me two years to learn that.

And the lesson was this: never write anything unless you have a profound passion for the genre, story, and characters. Period.

Let me ask you a question. When you walk into a bookstore, where do you go? Thrillers? Woman’s fiction? When you get that tingle at hearing about a movie coming out, what is that tingle attached to? Romantic comedy? Psychological Thriller? Action adventure?

What you write should be pretty damn close to that tingle because that’s where your passion lies. Your passion and familiarity. Something in you resonates. You know more about that world, that genre, that form, than any other. Because you respond so well. You know it. You crave it.

Why would you want to betray that feeling and write something that somebody else tells you to write? Or what the Industry is looking for? By the time you get on that bandwagon and get it done, the bandwagon will be long gone and you’ll be left with a piece of derivative junk.

On the other hand, how many times have I seen a new writer feast on his or her passion by going deep into that jungle of desire where originality blooms? And later emerge with a treasure so beautiful, unique, and personal that it leaves you breathless.

That’s where you should be when you write. You can learn the tools of the trade; they’re available. Read the books and go to the classes and pore over the top screenwriting guns and their 112 page masterpieces. But wherever you go carry your passion for story and character with you. Without it, you have nothing.

You don’t have to go to hell to find it, or into space. It may be in your back yard, or down the street, or it may be in you - something that once pitted you against the demons from hell, and you prevailed.

Remember that story about the woman in Lake Forest, Illinois, who every morning looked out of her kitchen window, over the planter boxes and across the lawn to next door - where one day a 17-year-old neighbor boy drowned in a boating accident?

From her kitchen window she watched concentric circles of pain spread like bile over the mother, father, and a younger brother who blamed himself for his brother’s death.

Judith Guest, a writer watching this unfold, didn’t have to go into space or anywhere else to find her story. There it was, in her back yard.

From this neighborhood tragedy Ordinary People was born. The title says it all. From ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances a writer can build a world filled with the best pathos, ethos and Thanatos.

If you look inward you’ll find the capacity to embrace your passion and then outwardly paint it on the pages of your screenplay, day after day, until this original piece of art can make its way into the world where it will astonish all who read it.

Forget what’s hot at the studios. What’s truly hot is your passion for a story and the characters through whom to tell it. You can burn down Hollywood barriers with it. Or you can follow trends for years and wonder why your work, far better than what others have done, has gone nowhere.

Good Will Hunting started out as a high-tech thriller - until director Rob Reiner got his hands on it. He asked Affleck and Damon, “Why are were going into that old fray when inside their overripe piece of derivative fluff is a true story,” a small story about a tortured genius locked into a prison of his own fears. The story, said Reiner, is about releasing Will Hunting from his fears, not about whether the high tech outfit gets to exploit the guy’s genius, and the chase is on through Boston streets.

They took his advice and crafted a passionate story of a psychologically tortured young man whose fear centers - the heart, the genius and the psyche - were challenged by characters created to pull him out. A Harvard girl the heart, an MIT professor, the genius, and an eccentric shrink the darkest part of Will Hunting, his tormented soul, a benighted psyche.

A passion for this small story with big human implications unfolded, with Will being enticed from his little shack by the sea, always trying to return to his hideout. But the more he left his place the harder it was to return, the more tightly the doors began to close.

In the end he had had to face his demons, while Damon and Affleck had to face hundreds of millions of people when they went up to collect their Academy Award.

And all because somebody told them not to bother with the big high tech thriller stuff that would find its way into the DVD bins, but to instead tap into their passion and their lost guy, Will Hunting, living in a shack on the docks of Southie who desperately wants to find his way home.

It’s all about passion. It becomes the writer’s signature, voice and uniqueness and makes the difference between finding the way home or not at all.

Christopher's latest book, Romancing the A-List is available in bookstores now. 


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Hands Across the Sea

Novelist, UCLA instructor and bon vivant Caroline Leavitt gave an unexpected shout-out to the Rouge Wave yesterday and I'd like to give her a shout-out back. C'mon Wavers, a big red wave to Ms. Leavitt! For those of your working on or considering working on a novel, Caroline's blog is a great resource.

What does the Wave-inatrix say about writing in many different formats? She says DO IT. Don't let screenwriting atrophy your writing brain. Work it every day, Wavers - poetry, essays, fiction, reviews - be holistic about your writing.

If there are any Rouge Wavers who have a 1st person essay about their experiences screenwriting (500 words, max) that they'd like to share please submit HEREand you might just be on the Rouge Wave.

And don't forget to check out Caroline's blog and show her some love - Rouge Wave style.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

In The Zone

By PJ McIlvaine

In the past several months, something strange and altogether unexpected has happened to my writing. I’ve always been a pretty prolific writer and have chewed out specs through full time jobs, part time jobs, no jobs, babies vomiting, ear infections, killer strep, moves, funerals and cats with fur balls. However, lately I’ve been tearing up the joint at Captain Kirk warp speed. First drafts that used to take months now pour out of me in days. I’m writing leaner and meaner and coming up with ideas and plotlines that I wouldn’t have envisioned a year ago. It’s almost like being possessed in that often I feel that I’m not so much writing but that I’m merely a stenographer furiously writing down what my subconscious is dictating. I’m just along for the ride, and there are no bathroom breaks.

After much deliberation, I attribute this dramatic leap in my productivity and creativity to two things: my new laptop and being in the zone.

In the old days, when I used to toil on “my” PC (the one that I shared with my husband and kids), the way it worked is that I had to fit my schedule around theirs. I’m sure you can guess how that usually went. More often not that, when I’d sit down in front of the computer bursting at the seams with inspiration, I’d get interrupted by my better half or one of the kids who always needed the computer right then, right now. Since I’m such a good wifey and Momo, I always acquiesced. This was great for them, but not so good for me. I’d do my best to maintain my enthusiasm (and replay those good bits in my head like a movie until I had the computer again), but all that stop and go writing was frustrating and annoying and generally lousy for my appetite and libido.

Another problem apart from having to share a computer is my mother. She lives with us (or we live with her) and she considers the “family computer” the bane of family life. No one talks to each other face to face anymore because everyone is on their computers too busy spamming each other on how to enlarge their penises.

You see, my mother’s only companions are the TV, her cats and me. So, consequently, whenever I’d try to quietly slip away and write, I’d barely get a page or two down before she’d interrupt and repeatedly ask when I’d be “done”. Let me tell you, that’s like being with a guy who can’t perform without massive amounts of Scotch and Viagra yet you badger him about when he’s going to be “ready”. He’ll never be ready, and I was always done.

As things turned out, when I belatedly got a cash infusion, the first thing on my “Honey, I’m Gonna Do This” list was getting myself a new computer. I wavered between a new PC and a laptop, and finally went with the laptop. Without a doubt, it’s been one of the two best decisions I’ve ever made.

I don’t have to hide away like a thief to write. I can be with the family (ahem, my mother) while she dozes on the sofa watching her classic black and white movies and “Monk”. I can write as much as I want whenever I want, and I can start and stop as I please. Oh, the freedom! I’m like a bird that’s finally figured out how to fly. Of course, now I suffer from FAS (Fat Ass Syndrome) but overall, that’s a small price to pay.

The next best thing to writing on my new laptop is when I’m in the zone. It’s like being pregnant and compressing nine months of labor into nine days. It’s intense, it’s a rush, it’s all your cylinders firing at the same time, and it’s out of your control. I can’t think or do anything else and when I try to do something else the only thing I’m thinking about is writing. When it’s finally over, like a bad flu, it takes me days to recuperate. Being in the zone isn’t something I can summon with a crinkle of my nose or the snap of my fingers. It usually comes at the most inopportune times, like death and houseguests. When it comes, I know better than to fight it. I fasten my seat beat and make sure to have the barf bag within arm’s reach.

I don’t quite understand the correlation between my new laptop and being in the zone this frequently (hormones, anyone?). All I know is that since I got my Toshiba, I’ve been writing like a five alarm fire. The only thing better is my marble cheesecake, but that doesn’t help my FAS either.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Mixing and Matching Your Stereotypes


I have noticed that we writers tend to use stereotypes in our writing when it comes to ancillary characters. Sometimes stereotypes are good - they are a shorthand. Other times it's just laziness that prevents us from putting a little more effort into a character that is essentially an extra. These are the types I often see in the scripts I have read over time:

If it's a waitress, she's either:

Buxom, homey and down to earth

OR

Skinny, chews gum, sarcastic and rude

Here are more either/ors that are common script-sightings:

Doctors and lawyers are either/or:

Kindly like Gregory Peck; good natured, honest
Cold, steely, uncaring

Young kids are either/or:

Freckles, blonde, playful, say funny things
Strange, silent, dark hair, brooding

Teenagers are either/or:

Gothic, cynical, sarcastic
Cheerleaders, football jocks, dumb and horny

Middle-aged Women are either/or:

Overweight, married, nice, bland, nerdy, blank
Horny, shrewd, desperate
Healthy, athletic, soccer moms, love their husbands

Senior Citizens are either/or:

Senile, funny, say crazy things, helpless
Mean, cranky, evil-doers
Blank props

Men are either/or:

Rude, crude, sports fans, beer belly, threatening
Clean cut, great dads, play with their kids, love their wives
Desperate, horny, lost all their money, scared

Policemen are either/or:

Dumb, Irish, brutal
Clean cut, handsome, rebellious, sexy
Earnest, naive, uber-ethical to a fault

Rural Dwellers are either/or:

Southern accent, uneducated, racist, dumb
Intellectual, bookish, getting away from the city

City Dwellers are either/or:

Harried, stressed out, scared of crime, tiny apartment
Rich, deceitful, huge penthouse, luxurious life, old or new money
Middle class, soccer, range rover, impossibly nice home

Again, sometimes these stereotypes can be helpful - and there are tons more we could come up with. But what if, just for fun, your police(wo)man were buxom, homey and down to earth? What if your lawyer was sarcastic, skinny and chewed gum? Mixing things up a bit can unearth new possibilities. Don't skimp on your ancillary characters. Mix it up and make it interesting.


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Monday, April 7, 2008

Good in a Room

Two posts in one day! Who loves you, Wavers? Come on - give it up - who loves you?

I just wanted to give a quick shout out to my friend Stephanie Palmer's new book Good in a Room. It's a must-have for aspiring screenwriters. If you can get a one-on-one coaching session with Stephanie before your big pitch meeting, I highly encourage you to do so, or her weekend workshops are amazing too. But in the now, her book is fantastically helpful.

Another new book on the scene that I highly recommend - and reviewed on Amazon - is my friend Christina Hamlett's Could it be a Movie?

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

One Minute Per Page?


Did all of my beautiful ones have a lovely weekend? You Rouge Wavers are keeping us on our toes at the Script Department - and the Wave-inatrix likee! Cupcakes for all of my friends!

Here's another great Waver question:

How do you make sure you get your 'page to film' timing as close as possible? So that you don't write 90 pages that only lasts for 50 min, or 50 pages that lasts for 90 min. Since you're not always completely sure of the place were it will be filmed, timing it in your head might not be accurate enough.

Take it away, Monsieur Bart Gold

Let’s consider this an overdue new installment in my old “INT. BRAIN – DAY” series of essays on screenwriting.

The minute-per-page rule is an imperfect guideline that obeys a certain law of averages. Some material usually falls victim to the imperfections of film production. Material gets cut because of budget overruns, scheduling fiascos, or just hits the cutting room floor in post. That makes the run time of the film shorter. There may be ad-libs or pauses that make dialogue longer in certain scenes, adding more time to the finished film. Realistically, the post production process alone could add or subtract several minutes. SOME margin of error is implied, but a properly written script typically ends up close to a minute per page.

Let’s assume for simplicity of discussion that everything in a script is filmed as written. It’s important to realize and to accept that each individual page of a professional screenplay might not literally take one minute as filmed.

I always like to use the example of Dances With Wolves, where a 4 line snippet like--

EXT. FRONTIER PLAINS – DAY - MONTAGE

Several shots follow the lieutenant and his mangy horse through the fields and plains of the pristine, unsettled old west. No one else around for miles.

--could cover a six minute montage of screen time near the beginning of the movie.

Likewise, a page of dialogue might fly by in seconds:

INT. FRANK’S GARAGE – DAY

Frank impatiently tries to teach Clyde how to fix the old Buick’s timing belt.

-------FRANK
--Left.

-------CLYDE
--Left?

-------FRANK
--My left!

-------CLYDE
--There?

-------FRANK
--Ahh!

-------CLYDE
--Got it.

-------FRANK
--Hurry!

-------CLYDE
--Why?

-------FRANK
--Because

-------CLYDE
--Why?

-------FRANK
--Beth’s coming over, okay? Go!

This dialogue, delivered at a comedic, quick pace, took me and my fiancée about 8 seconds. As it turns out, this dialogue, which I just made up, takes about the same amount of page space as Jack Nicholson’s big “You Can’t handle the truth” diatribe at the end of A Few Good Men, which is a much denser piece of dialogue and of course takes longer to say as a result.

Now, in your question, you give two extreme examples: 90 pages versus 50 minutes and 50 pages for 90 minutes.

First, let’s talk 90 pages to 50 minutes. I would bet the only way you’re going to be that far off is if your screenwriting style has too much useless filler in it.

Now, that Frank-Clyde scene is already pretty sparse, and too many pages of such dialogue will seem really thin already. But buckle in, I’m about to inflict some pain that is familiar to many readers: I’m going to take the Frank-Clyde scene and stuff it full of overly thick description and stage directions to make it take two pages instead of one.

INT. FRANK’S GARAGE – DAY

The rickety old garage features a tool bench full of clutter and oily rags. There is an old pegboard full of gardening hoes and shovels, and there are several yellow light bulbs dangling from the dusty rafters. Frank paces, wearing blue jean style coveralls and an Iron Maiden tee shirt that looks like he’s owned it since 1985.

Clyde lies under an old Buick, which is up on cinder blocks courtesy of a JACK.

Frank impatiently tries to teach Clyde how to fix the old Buick’s timing belt.

-------FRANK
--Left.

Clyde moves his wrench and the timing belt to his right.

-------CLYDE
--Left?

Frank frowns.

-------FRANK
--My left!

Frank looks very irritated now, and Clyde, that big lovable dope, he just keeps making Frank even more infuriated due to his incompetent repair skills.

-------CLYDE
--There?

Frank can’t take it any more.

-------FRANK
--Ahh!

Clyde nods. This time he’s sure he understands what Frank means for he (Clyde) to do. Clyde twists his wrench counterclockwise and aligns the timing belt with the engine’s rusty alternator gear. With a loud SNAP, the gears fall into place.

Frank looks relieved.

-------CLYDE
--Got it.

Then Clyde starts to turn his wrench, AGAIN! Ugh! Frank is growing more impatient.

-------FRANK
--Hurry!

Clyde looks at Frank, curious.

-------CLYDE
--Why?

Frank doesn’t look like he wants to admit to the truth here.

-------FRANK
--Because.

Clyde is made even more curious by Frank’s restrained expression.

-------CLYDE
--Why?

Frank SIGHS.

-------FRANK
--Beth’s coming over, okay? Go!


Now, clearly I committed several sins here. Not one of these stage directions was needed. Any director with half a brain would realize that the ‘business’ of the engine repair would naturally be part of the scene and ask the actors to act out something similar to what I added. And of course if a guy says ‘why?” it’s redundant and pointless to waste 3 lines of script stating that he is curious. (By 3 wasted lines of script, I’m counting the line of action text in question, plus the two added blank lines around it.)

Worst of all, I committed the sin of writing a scene that any experienced reader is going to be annoyed reading. An experienced reader/agent/exec has a intuitive sense of how much should be happening per page, and if the writing is padded like this, the reader/agent/exec is going to dismiss the script pretty quickly.

Once in a great while I’ll see a feature film script submission that has double-spaced dialogue, (which is the correct format for 3-camera sitcoms but not for features.) Or I’ll see a script where the margins got fudged, the font is the wrong size,
or the dialo-
gue margins
are so thin
that you can
barely fit twel-
ve letters in a
line of dialogue.

All these glitches can burn pages faster than is normal. But I’d say rambling scenes with unneeded direction is the most common way space gets wasted in scripts.

The larger problem is not that 90 pages of this would be only 50 minutes if filmed- the real problem is that the agent or exec tosses a script like this after reading 4 pages.

To the other scenario you asked about: 50 pages for 90 minutes of script… that’s actually harder for me to imagine unless we’re talking about one of those very rare submissions that’s essentially formatted like a book manuscript:

INTERIOR, NAPOLEON’S TENT – DAY. NAPOLEON sleeps in his tent in this scene and when he wakes his friend and trusted butler GUILLAUME is at his bedside. Guillaume says “Napoleon, mister Bonaparte, Sir? It is time to wake and study the battle plans for the day, to which Napoleon says “Thank you, Guillaume, please send for Lieutenant Zut-Alors and Lieutenant Lunettes-De-Jaune that I may seek their casualty reports.” Guillaume bows and leaves the tent, leaving Monsieur Bonaparte frowning and in a desultory state of mind.

Now, this could well be a 7 minute per page pace for all I know. But the exec or agent who opens the script and sees nothing but massive blocks of text like this is likely going to not even read past the first page.

I recommend reading scripts in whatever genre you’re tackling as pace references. Whether it’s a slow, brooding scene, or a zippy comic interchange, there’s only so far off the timing can be in the performance. What is ultimately important is that the writer delivers a compelling page. Hook the exec early, keep him/her entertained, and keep a pace consistent with other scripts in your genre, and the ‘accuracy of your run time’ will be a non-factor in the script sale.



If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

The Hook

In yesterday's Rouge Wave, my colleague PJ answered a question about hooks, catalysts and inciting incidents. I just wanted to add my two cents. First, we have to acknowledge that there are some terms that get bandied about in Hollywood and in screenwriting that are assigned different meanings. Some screenwriting books call the inciting incident the "catalyst" others call it the "call to adventure". Kids, it's the same thing: it's your page ten(ish) moment in which the world you've quickly, cinematically and compellingly set up, gets a stick in the eye. Uh oh, as PJ's mom astutely says. What's wrong? What will they do? The apple cart is upset.

In YUMA, Christian Bale's barn is burned down.
In JAWS it's on page one, actually, the night-swimmer gets chomped.
In JUNO, it's the positive pregnancy test.
In NORTH BY NORTHWEST it's Cary Grant's abduction when he's confused with the wrong guy
In RAIN MAN it's when Tom Cruise finds out his father died.
In THE SIXTH SENSE it's when Bruce Willis gets shot.
In JERRY MAGUIRE it's when Tom Cruise gets fired.
In PIRATE OF THE CARIBBEAN it's when the necklace hits the water.
In INDIANA JONES THE LAST CRUSADE it's when the archeologist says he's found the holy grail.

The hook, however, is related to the inciting incident but actually, is a stand alone term. I wrote something about the hook almost exactly one year ago on the RW and I am reprinting it here. I just don't think I can top the way I explained it before.

***

One of the first things an agent, manager or executive will ask of your material is “what’s the hook”? You may have wondered what the heck that is. The definition seems to vary by person but the upshot is that the hook is something about the script that is centrally very simple, very cool and very original. There are many different types of hooks but here are some likely suspects:

Character hook: James Bond, Shrek, Austin Powers, The 40 Year Old Virgin, Bonnie & Clyde, Psycho, Batman, Annie Hall, Taxi Driver, Sexy Beast, Pulp Fiction, When Harry met Sally, Clueless. Think of this as the "you talkin' to me?" category. Movies that carry a character hook are movies in which the central character is so unique that movie-goers remember that particular character for a long time, quoting him or her, etc.

Plot hook: The 6th Sense, Identity, Gattica, Jaws, Donnie Darko, Brokeback Mountain, Saw, Speed, Terminator, The Island, Jurrasic Park, The Ring, Purple Rose of Cairo, 28 Days. Think of this as the "I see dead people" category. Movies that have a plot hook are movies that have a central plot or plot twist that we have literally not seen before; a giant shark terrorizes a town, two gay cowboys have a love affair, a bus that will explode if it goes under 60mph, a video tape that if you watch, you'll die 7 days later.

Cinematic and craft hooks: Memento, the Matrix, Crouching tiger, Jesus' Son, Trainspotting, Sexy Beast, Pulp Fiction, The Ring, The 5th Dimension. Think of this as the "bullet time" category. These are movies that have a really unique look or narrative methodology that we have not seen before. A stylized look, CG effects, super-saturated footage, jumps in time; but more than simply a look or a narrative style, the execution is intrinsic to telling the story. It's not frosting; it is a delivery system without which the story wouldn't be the same.

…You'll notice some titles appear under more than one category. True enough. If you can get your script to carry all three hooks? You are golden. But that's hard to do. That said, writers should strive to come up with a hook, that I can tell you. Because having a hook is golden, my friends, it will move your script from the bottom to the top of the stack, it will get you meetings and it might even get you sold.

Don’t despair if you don’t feel as if your current script has a hook. Don’t shoehorn absurd hooks into your coming-of-age drama by making the main character a Siamese twin – just to be different. Let the hook come to you in an organic way. But remember this: coming-of-age, romcom, horror, thriller, fantasy – whatever the genre is, seriously every story has already been told. So how can you set your script apart? By lending to it your unique voice and by looking for creative opportunities to make a familiar story paradigm different enough in its details to provide unique entertainment. Audiences crave that which they are familiar with – there are genre expectations without which your movie will not succeed. It’s not always the what – it’s the how.

As you work through your idea, ask yourself: when an agent, manager or executive asks you what the hook is – what will you say? If right at the moment, the answer is a fish-eye stare, that’s okay. What opportunities lie within your story to create a unique hook? You may have to cast about for awhile to find something that really works but the rewards for you and for your script can be huge; fish or cut bait, Wavers. Aspire to create a hook that will net you one big, drooling executive - and a WGA membership card.



If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Friday, April 4, 2008

The Old Left Hook

By PJ McIlvaine

“Hi Julie, I noticed on your blog you mentioned requests for topics. I did a search and couldn't find anything of real great length on THE HOOK or CATALYIST moment in a script. I think it's obviously underrated and can break material before it’s even begun. " - Daniel


When Julie first asked me to write on this subject, I must admit, I had a brain fart. Staying up three nights straight to plot out a climax (on a script, people, get your minds out of the gutter) will do that to a person. As it turns out, Daniel is a pal of mine, so I e-mailed him to ask if what he meant was what I refer to as the INCITING INCIDENT, or as my good old mother exclaims while she’s watching her Lifetime movies, UH-OH!

Yep, turns out we’re all on the same page, despite all the different catch phrases. Men are from Mars, Women are from Hagen Daaz.

Well, this is my take on the HOOK and/or CATALYST issue. It can be on the first page or the twentieth, the sooner the better most say, but whatever it is, it has to be there, and it better be a good one if you expect to keep the reader turning the page. Otherwise, you might as well pen a boring book report or a methodical grocery list. It has to propel the script, to launch it---the unmistakable, uh-oh moment where you know you’re not in Kansas anymore.

It can be as simple as a woman walking into a bar ( Casablanca ); a bunch of money grubbing tourists trying to outrace each other to find that great big W in the sky (It’s A Mad Mad Mad Mad World); or when a shallow advertising bon vivant is mistakenly kidnapped (North By Northwest).

When we first meet Rick, the affable bar owner with a shady past, he’s going about his business, meeting and greeting patrons and just generally minding his own P&Q’s. He’s a man without a country. There’s a war going on, the world is in turmoil, but you wouldn’t know it from Rick’s stone faced demeanor. And then, out of the proverbial blue, a woman enters Rick’s Place. We don’t know who she is, where she comes from. She could’ve fallen out of the sky for all we know. But when she walks in and she and Rick lock eyes, its fireworks, it’s an earthquake, it’s an erupting volcano, and all because this beautiful woman walked into a bar. She could’ve have strolled into any bar, any place…but no, she had to walk into Rick’s.

Speaking of earthquakes, what would you do if you were driving along on a lovely afternoon and you saw a speeding car careen off a mountain road? Being the Good Samaritan that I know you are, naturally, you’d stop the car, like a half dozen others, and go attend to Jimmy Durante, broken on the rocks, about to take his last breath, and then he gasps out some nonsensical story about buried money. Everyone stares at him and go yeah, right, and I’m King Henry VIII. He dies, the police arrive, and everyone goes back in their cars and drive away. Yet the old coot’s story tugs and nags and chews and then you realize that the other cars are going faster and faster and you wonder, hmmm, what the hell are they up to? Everyone stops and tries to come to an equitable division of this still to be found money, but it becomes painfully clear that Ethel Merman isn’t going to settle for beans. Jonathan Winters and Mickey Rooney slowly back toward their vehicles and within seconds, the madcap race, the chase, which is going to destroy half of Southern California, is on. Now what if Jimmy Durante’s car hadn’t veered off the road? And what if you hadn’t stopped? It makes me sick to my stomach just to think about it.
Now we’re in Manhattan, it’s a beautiful day on Madison Avenue, and advertising exec Roger O. Thornhill, carefree, insouciant, a confirmed rake after being divorced several times, is on his way to a liquid meeting at the Plaza Hotel. Instead of gin on the rocks, Thornhill is mistaken for a spy and kidnapped and what do you know, this vain and superficial lunk eventually winds up hanging by a nose on Mr. Rushmore and getting married for what appears to be the last time. I’m getting ahead of myself. Back at the Plaza, what if the case of mistaken identity had just been an innocent mishap that only resulted in Thornhill being late to join his mother at the opera house?

I tell you what you’d have...a not very exciting movie.

And yes, there are exceptions that we can quibble about until dinosaurs roam the earth again. For example, in one black and white classic, a case could be made that the hook was when the blonde bombshell hightailed it out of town with forty thousand dollars safely tucked inside her purse. I beg to differ. I say it’s when the blonde bombshell, cold, tired and hungry, turned off the highway and got out at the Bates Motel.

Mother never had it so good.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

The Importance of Being Professional

These days, more and more, electronic communications are replacing snail mail. Or, for you older folks, that's what the kids call - letters. Querying agents and managers via email is increasingly the norm - not that snail mail isn't okay, I'm actually one of those superstitious types who feels that an actual letter in the hand is more personal, but I don't know that I can prove it's paid off. But I digress.

So email. We use it constantly in our personal and business lives. But let me tell you something, people, some of you have some pretty crazy email addresses. Hard to spell, hard to pronounce over the phone, easy to mess up and wind up receiving a DELIVERY FAILURE notice, which we all hate.

Now, I'm not encouraging everybody to change their email addresses all at once. No, that would really mess up my email list and yours truly would spend many an afternoon updating. But think about it - if your email address is SillyMilly27@whatever.com it's just not as professional as Milly@whatever.com or MillyJohnson@whatever.com. I have seen emails that just blow my mind, in all seriousness, folks, things like: Michael15llld@whatever.com llld? Or are those ones? And who is this SnowBunny38@whatever.com? Does she sound like a serious writer? Not so much.

In a business in which you have very little time to make a favorable impression, even details like a crazy, hard to spell email address could be a barrier between you and the agent of your dreams. Make it easy and simple for people to contact you.

You may want to set up an email account that is only for your screenwriting career. That way, you don't have to hassle with changing Bupkas337fish@whatever.com for those friends and relatives who think it's cute and who are used to it.

But for an agent or exec squinting at that email address, needing to get ahold of you, it is unprofessional and annoying.

Just food for thought, guys. Make it simple and easy to get hold of you. Put your best foot forward.


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

The Silver Screenwriting Competition!

Well - weeee're off and running! Wavers can check out our Silver Screenwriting Competition website HERE. We are open for business. The deadline is July 1st, so get busy, people!

I paid careful attention to the wish list that Rouge Wavers gave us in terms of prizes and I hope that I captured what you wanted; exposure, experience and cool stuff. I'm still looking for a very special TBA guest to lunch with the Grand Prize winner; hopefully I'll have a thrilling late announcement when we find that special someone. So far I have requests out to Paul Haggis, John August, Diablo Cody and Allan Ball. If that's shooting too high this year, you can be sure we'll get someone of that stature next year.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Tackling the Logline

Rouge Waver Mike Scherer comments: The biggest bugg-a-boo I have is creating an effective logline. Very hard. Harder than writing the actual script.

Heeeelllllllp!

Mike, you aren't alone. Many writers find loglines very challenging. I've gotten pretty good at it not only from having to write them daily for clients (not my own work, so easier, but good training) but from having attended the Writer's Boot Camp where, for the first several weeks, there was a strong focus on pithy reductions. And by that I do not mean lemon curd.

A cornerstone of my take on screenwriting - doing it, teaching it and living it - is that a writer has to use both the micro and macro view of the material at all times. Zoom in. Zoom out. Picture a person working on a vast quilt - peering closely at the stitches in their hands, glancing over three squares to the left to see how the flow of the pattern is doing, and then standing up, stepping back and, hands on hips, looking at the whole quilt. That's what writers need to be doing all the time. Zoom in. Zoom out. Micro and macro.

For many writers, the logline is something to work on after the script is already written. Cardinal sin in my book. The logline should have been the compass rose all along. But I get ahead of myself. What commonly happens is that writers get way too enmeshed in the micro page-work and write a logline like this:

A civil war vet has a failing ranch and someone threatens to cut off the water and he doesn't know what to do and then they burn down his barn and he's really upset and then he gets a proposition, to help escort a dangerous criminal to the train station on time and they'll pay him $200 but on the very first night out the criminal kills someone and he realizes he's in pretty deep and then......

Please kill me now. Just. Kill me.

How about the freaking upshot already??

A desperate man with a failing ranch gets in too deep when he accepts $200 to escort a murderous outlaw with a devoted gang to the train station on time to stand trial.

Ohhhhhh now we've boiled YUMA down to it's most entertaining essence. Few details embellish this logline, just the upshot.

And that's what readers are asked to do when they write loglines: UPSHOT PLEASE.

But a logline you are writing needs to be a little sexier than the upshot only. Not longer, just sexier. Here's the logline a reader would mostly likely jot out for YUMA:

A failing rancher escorts a dangerous criminal to the train station.

Upshot and upshot only. But the one I used as an example earlier is closer to what you the writer would write as you represent your script when submitting.

A desperate man with a failing ranch gets in too deep when he accepts $200 to escort a murderous outlaw with a devoted gang to the train station on time to stand trial.

So let's look at that logline again. Is the genre clear - yeah, rancher, outlaw, got it. Who is the antagonist? Murderous outlaw, devoted gang, got it. Ticking clock? Train station on time. Main character and flaw? Desperate man with failing ranch. Crux of the conflict? Accepts $200 to escort murderous outlaw.

So like a dragonfly in the garden, we flew over the meadow of the script and alighted only on the key moments, the brightest flowers, the UPSHOT.

In my opinion, many writers struggle with their logline for two reasons - they don't practice doing it enough (exercise to follow) and they are writing the logline AFTER they wrote the script and, the biggest, worst culprit of all - the script they are trying to logline is too dense, confusing and meandering to really have a big upshot. And that is the worst thing of all.

I recommend working on a logline (or premise, actually, in this usage, I'll 'splain momentarily) before you outline your script. Then continue to amend the logline or outline as needed. You really shouldn't write your logline AFTER the script is done. Again, the logline should have been your compass rose all along.

It's kinda like a pyramid:

Logline
Premise
Outline
Script

So yeah, it's pretty damn tough to write a logline when boiling down the essence of the script has never entered your mind until page 86.

The difference between a premise and a logline is this: A premise is simply a longer version of the logline, maybe a paragraph, that is for YOUR use, YOU the writer, as you work on your outline. The premise can and will change often as you are shaping your story. And yes, there's room for spontaneity, if you change something on your pages post outline, yes, tweak the premise and loglines to reflect that change.

So what are the components of a good logline, whether you are being a Rouge Wave ROCK STAR and writing the log and premise before writing the script or being a goofball and attempting to write them to describe a script you've already written?

A good logline should include:

The main character and his or her flaw-weakness-downfall
(Desperate man, failing ranch)

The antagonist and his or her general m.o.
(Dangerous outlaw, devoted gang, trial a no-go)

Set up
(Failing ranch, wounded pride, needs $$$ for winter)

Complication/Crux of the conflict
Gets in too deep
train on time
devoted gang

So here is a fun exercise to practice writing loglines. This is something we used to do at the Writer's Boot Camp, I forget what they called the exercise.

By the way, these can be and are, obviously, silly, guys, but this exercise has real value because you might just find a good story doing a silly exercise, but you also will be building and toning the muscles of cobbling a story together from the macro view.

Make a list of main characters and flaws/problems:

Desperate rancher
Broke, alcoholic divorcee
Greedy, lying store manager
Self-centered, washed up rock star

Now make a list of antagonists:

Cruel and shrewd divorce lawyer
Dangerous outlaw
Demonic spirit
Mentally unstable fan

Now a list of ticking clocks:

Crossing the state line before the wedding
Making it to Burning Man on time for the concert
Making it to the train on time to stand trial
Sealing the crack in the time-space continuum before Satan finds out

Now a list of set ups:

Gets drunk and sleeps with her soon-to-be brother-in law
Is too high to show up for an audition and gets kicked out of the band
Can't make payments on the ranch, water gets cut off
Escapes from hell after throwing a demonic party and rupturing the time/space continuum

And a list of the crux of conflict:

Okay, I've officially run out of steam over my coffee here - you guys can take over from here. But are you getting the point? Like those flip books when we were kids, where your animal could have the head of an ostrich and the body of a bear and the feet of an alligator? Mix and match. Mess around with jotting down these loglines components and then taking the components and writing a logline. Just do it - have fun.

In fact - the Rouge Waver who can come up with the pithiest, most entertaining, I might actually see that movie logline, using the components above wins a lifetime supply of cupcakes. Any takers?

And Mike, if you still have questions, send them to me and we'll do loglines part II, III and IV if we have to. But the upshot is this: it ain't easy, so don't beat yourself up. It takes practice and lots of it.





If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Be a Pro: Make a Writing Plan

Rouge Waver Breck is my writing buddy and Breck got really frustrated lately. He didn't meet his self-imposed deadlines and began outlining then just began writing with an unfinished outline then emailed me, frustrated as all get out. He asked what I used to do when I was starting out and I suddenly found myself frustrated, discombobulated and behind schedule. The answer is eat too much, smoke too much, avoid writing, go into an existential self-hate spiral and get no writing done. But that was long ago.

So how do you get out of the muck in a healthy way? Well, for sure get enough sleep, drink plenty of water, read a good book and get some movie time in. Don't hate yourself for getting lost in the woods. We all do it. Self-discipline is hard and those Silver Fish  can be deadly.


Do this: Think of yourself as a contractor. Put on your hard hat and make a writing plan. What are the answers to these questions:

What am I working on right now? Include the logline, the genre and what stage of the project you are on; outlining, pages, rewriting, etc.

What plans and goals do I have for this material?

What are some real-time deadlines related to these goals? (competition deadlines, festivals, good times to query, etc.)

What's in the Idea Heap?
List loglines of any other projects, in any stage of development.

Which project am I going to work on next and why?

Now take a calendar and sketch out the use of your time. Here is a rough outline:

1) You should be able to complete an outline in 2 weeks. (for many - far less - for others, far more, but to those folks I say, git your tuchas in gear, friends).

2) You should be able to revise and revisit the outline, with notes and comments in one more week.

3) Time to write the first draft - if you've taken the time with that outline - should be about two months. (again, times are relative, so shut it, Speedy Gonzales).

4) To get notes and feedback and complete a rewrite should take another six weeks after that.

5) Allow another six weeks or so for another round or two of feedback, a week away from the material to decompress or to work on something else.

So what are we up to? Almost six months? Something like that? But here's the thing - for some, this process is much faster, but if it's much slower - you need to gain some discipline because it really shouldn't be. And here's the other thing - even while outlining one project, you should be thinking about a logline for another project. You should always be writing down ideas and inspiration. You should be reading scripts, novels and other great writing at all times.

Set a goal for yourself: I will write 3 feature scripts a year. I will write a one-act play just to stretch my muscles. I will see movies weekly. I will have a file folder of great ideas.

Every writer I know - produced and published - is writing something literally all the time. Heck, the Rouge Wave keeps my old essay muscles toned, for sure.

So the upshot is this: if you feel stuck, muddled and mad at yourself because you're not keeping up with your deadlines, goals and plans, here's what the Wave-inatrix recommends:

1) Go see some movies
2) Work out and sweat
3) Look in the mirror and ask yourself - do I really want to be a writer?
4) Stop whining and write.

And I say that with love. Because we've all been there, me included.

And it just so happens that today I am reviewing a book by my friend, Christina Hamlett. And as I go through the book, I'm jealous; Christina is a great writer - the way she makes her points, the way she presents this stuff is just superlative. And suddenly it strikes me - wow, this is a GREAT book for Rouge Wavers and today's subject is a perfect fit.

So for those of you interested, check out Could it be a Movie?


If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.

Are We There Yet?

Rouge Waver J.J. asks: When do you stop taking suggestion/notes/advice for improving your script? At what point is enough enough?

Good question, J.J. I know I have received notes upon notes on scripts of mine and at a certain point in time you start to wonder if the script is written by committee. Additionally, there are note-junkies who essentially have a fear of actually finishing the project and putting it out there to succeed or fail.

I need to point out one truth that sucks: No script is ever DONE. Even if you sell your script, changes will be made. Changes will be made as the movie is shooting. No script is ever done. Memorize that.

But before you submit your script to a competition, agent/manager or production company, at a certain point it becomes done enough for now. But how do you know?

It is useful to be still.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, everybody who knows the Wave-inatrix knows that she is a pretty spiritual person but think about the usefulness of that statement in this and every situation in your life. Be. Still.

Just take a deep breath and ask yourself - have you taken this script as far as you possibly can, to the best of your ability? Is there anything that still niggles? Is not being sure if you're done or not rooted in fear? Fear that the script will fail?

Let me tell you something, Wavers - good scripts fail. Because their reception is subjective. Good scripts get a PASS simply because it didn't match the mandate of the production company or strike the exec or manager reading it as just what they are looking for.

Recently I corresponded with a number of managers who read consider scripts at the Script Department. I asked them each exactly what they were looking for. Every single one answered differently. NO comedy. NO horror. Horror, please! NO drama. Period piece drama, please. Comedy and horror. NO sci-fi or fantasy. I'm looking for sci-fi and fantasy! I was blown away by not only how different their requests were but by how strongly they felt about what they are looking for.

You've gotten three sets of notes and you're just feeling a little unsure....are you being a notes junkie? Are you afraid to just go for it? The truth is your little darling, your beautiful child is going to be rejected 9 out of 10 times. For reasons that make sense and for reasons that are baloney. How do I know this? Bitter and painful experience. You got to let that fear go. Because you only need one "yes".

So be still. Take a deep breath. What is the best use of your creative time right now? Are you beating this script to death? Is it time to move on? If you are having this conversation with yourself, I'm going to go out on a limb - it's time to be done already and move on.

If you enjoyed this post, follow me on Twitter or subscribe via RSS.