The Longest Journey

Getting your thoughts and ideas out of your head and onto the page is the longest journey in the world. We can see the scene, we can feel the emotion, but we have to use keystrokes and words to get it onto that white sheet of paper. And it's not easy, right? Because now we are constrained by a certain way of expressing that on paper - the screenwriting way. Or the prose way. Or the poetry way. Contrary to the saying, we are not a bunch of monkeys in a room.

Being a writer doesn't simply mean you have a lot of neat ideas in your head. It's all in the name: w-r-i-t-e-r. You write it down. And it's more than wanting or needing to write down your ideas and stories, it's the ability to write it down in such a way that other people reading it are engaged, surprised, touched and entertained by the words you took out of your head and put on the page.

Think of someone you know who is very funny. Think of the way that they command the room with their joking, imitations or comments. They love it. They love to bask in the glow of the laughter they evoke. They might be naturally funny, they may have a unique, wry, cynical way of looking at the world. But they don't sit around by themselves and crack jokes.

Any Rouge Waver reading this knows the wonderful feeling when someone says, wow, what you wrote in my birthday card made me cry. Or wow, your short story really surprised me and made me see things in a new way. And maybe you haven't had this particular experience, but when an editor says, yes, your essay or short story will be published - WOW - it means it did its job and that now, thousands of people will also be able to read what you wrote and integrate it into their own lives and point of view. I get that WOW feeling from the Rouge Wave - if a Rouge Waver says, thanks, I learned from that, or that made me laugh - geez, that means using the characters of the alphabet and my keyboard, I took what was in my head and wrote it down in such a way that it made a difference to you. Because a writer not getting read is like one hand clapping.

That's what we all want ultimately, right? To entertain others? To have an impact on them? To change their thinking, crack them up, scare them to death or otherwise make them FEEL something? We don't write just for our own benefit. Or maybe we do. But that's called journaling. Nothing wrong with that - it's therapy, it's reflection - but it's not for public consumption.

Before your writing can possibly have an impact on a reader, you must be adept at using the language. Spelling, grammar but more than that - the lyricism of the language itself. Here is a bit from a TC Boyle short story: Fall settled in early that year, a succession of damp glistening days that took the leaves off the trees and fed on the breath of the wind. Fed on the breath of the wind. Ah, TC, how I love you so.

Can you write a sentence like that? No, it's not screenwriting, it's prose - a different beast altogether - but screenwriting can also be lyrical and beautiful. Believe it. It's not just a blueprint, it's a gorgeous blueprint/presentation and words are your only tools with which to create it.

Are you a good writer? I mean - are you really? I don't mean have you sold a script or have you published a novel or have you come up with the best idea in the universe, but what is your facility with the words on the page full stop? Can you look out the window right now and write 250 words about what you see in such a way that I would be entertained by it? Can you make me see the buildings, the streets, the flowers or the rail car going by?

Screenwriters should watch a lot of movies. If you haven't checked out the GASP list, please do so and begin checking movies off it. If you are a television writer, get those hours of TV in. But remember, before your words hit the screen, they hit the page. So read good writing. And read it a lot. Take pride in the way you wield the words on the page. At the end of the day it's unimportant whether it's screenwriting, prose, essay writing or anything else. You have a gift. Use it, expand upon it and spend time daily getting it out of your head and onto the page.

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Character Accents

Dear Rouge Wave:

One of my characters speaks with an Irish accent. How do I indicate that? Do I write all his dialogue phonetically or do I indicate in a wryly every time he speaks that he has an accent?

-Top O' The Morning in Tipperary

Dear Top O' - when writin' a character wi' a wee bit of an accent, ye don't want te gobsmack the reader over and over agin wi' it, do ye then? It can become a wee bit annoyin', so? The reader'll sure te go arse over tea feckin' kettle wi' keepin' up wi' ye, isn't it?

Note the first time the character speaks that he or she has an accent and let it go at that. The reader will remember and beyond that, a more powerful way to really show that this character is from somewhere else is to us a few colloquialisms from their place of origin. In other words, if we're dealing with an Irishman, there's more to the fact that he's Irish than the way he speaks, right? Sure, you might use some specific words like arse or cuppa but don't over do it and don't bother trying to write the dialogue in a way that evokes the accent. That's for the actor to interpret. I have well and truly seen writers put a wryly that says (in a Spanish accent) over ever single line of dialogue for a character - which is super annoying - I got it the first time, thank you very much. Talk about ass over tea kettle and cluttering up your script. Don't do it.

What you are really indicating is that this person is from Ireland (or wherever). So you might throw in a few word choices that indicate that but beyond that, dig deeper - what does it mean that your character is from Ireland? It means your character has a different frame of reference, a different way of looking at the world and a slightly different way of expressing him or herself. If a character is from Canada, I don't need to literally see in the dialogue that he says "aboot" - I get it already. It's all in the set up of that character on the very first page that we meet him. If you do it well, I won't forget where he's from. If you hit me over the feckin' head wi' it, I'm gonna get real cranky on your arse.

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So Much Fear, So Little Time

So what are you worried about right now? Swine flu? Money? Relationships or lack of them? Your kids? Terrorism, global warming, your health, closing factories, the government? I find the world is growing more and more alarming - and alarmist. Every day I read the headlines and I think oh man, am I getting old or is stuff accelerating in negative ways? Am I shining a rose colored light on a few years back when I was younger or is stuff happening in our world that is rising in intensity? So much to fear, so little time.

So I work hard to feel better. Think globally act locally. Exercise. Meditation. Laughter. Focusing on the positive wherever it can be found. Unplugging from the media (or the weapon of mass distraction as a certain spiritual leader I admire would say). What do you do to try and feel better when there are so many things to worry and feel anxious about? Don't tell me you have no underground rivers of things you worry about. We all do.

And so do three-dimensional, unforgettable characters. Really great characters act and speak like real people, right? That's what makes them compelling. So what world do they live in beyond the construct of conflict you have engineered? Have you thought about the balance in your main character's checking account? Or how your main character feels about the issues in the media? You may not focus on some of the very real, real world issues happening within the world of your script; WHEN HARRY MET SALLY didn't focus on what was happening in the White House at that time - and it shouldn't have. Movies are escapist fare. But even if your script doesn't focus on global or personal realities, when writing a great character, those life realities are still happening beneath the surface. They have to be.

Every character has a family of origin. A past. A few pounds they'd like to lose. A bad habit they'd like to break. A lonely weekend. Moments of doubt. A spiritual belief system - or not. A world view and a world experience. They came from somewhere, they grew up and they lived in a world. So how has that impacted them over time? How has it impacted you?

As Tony Gilroy so truthfully wrote in MICHAEL CLAYTON - people are incomprehensible. So writing a character who feels real is a pretty tall order. Some writers, such as like Proust or Tolstoy, accomplish this with pointillist details. Others, like like TC Boyle or Denis Johnson, use a more graffiti-like way of writing, with broad strokes and bright colors that somehow coalesce into a realness on the page. In screenwriting, we can combine both tiny details and broad strokes to achieve an impact. But mostly, we have to use actions to define our characters. Which is both easier and much more difficult. We don't have the luxury of getting inside our characters' heads to tell a long backstory or reflect upon madelines. We have to be quick and dirty, which I personally think is the funnest thing about screenwriting. It's like puzzle solving - how can I show you that this is a lonely person? How can I show you that this is an optimistic person? A joker, a cynic or a worrier? How can I convey that quickly and effectively so that you the reader (or viewer) can plug into that person and get who they are?

I know what NOT to do and that is to write a character who is two-dimensional. Which is a charge often found in coverage reports. Two-dimensional writing is a character who is described physically and only concerned with what is happening right now - but who does not have foibles, traits, eccentricities or specificity as a human being. Even if your character is a type, it has to be a type that we can connect to. Oh yeah, I've met that guy before.

So back to today's topic - think about it - what is on your main character's mind that has nothing to do with the story at hand? Think about what you are worried about or anxious about and how you cope with that and ask yourself what your main character feels about the news of the day. Does your main character live in anxiety or blow it off? Do they drink or smoke it away? How evolved is your main character on a personal level? How do they deal with conflict and personal managment? Do they get lonely in a crowd? Do they have a savings account? Are they worried about that strange new mole? Give your character the same details that we all have.

In a SCRUBS episode a million years ago, Zach Braff coped by being in a bubble bath, surrounded by candles and singing Toto's Africa at the top of his lungs. It was hilarious, it was specific and it was real.

Update: You may be wondering about the Robotard 8000. They unfortunately had a last minute change of plans and my interview with them is on ice for the moment.

Now get back to work.

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Sending out Queries

Dear Rouge Wave:

Earlier today, I called about 10 smallish, indie production companies that I researched and thought would be right for my script and asked them if they read query letters. Only one company responded in the affirmative and I think that was because she didn't really know the answer. Everyone is always saying aspiring screenwriters have to query and see how the response is. So my question is, how (why) are we supposed to send our query when they admittedly don't / won't read it? I don't want to waste my time faxing a bunch of places only for my letter to be trashed. Am I going about things the wrong way? I have lived in LA for over a year and don't have many industry connections and have to start somewhere, so any advice you have would be great!

-Flummoxed in Florida

Dear Flummoxed,

There are two routes for an aspiring screenwriter to take when querying. Querying agents and managers or querying production companies directly. Most production companies do not accept unsolicited material; but of course there are some that do. If you are wanting to send your script (ultimately, right?) to a production company and simply want to know if they'll read your query, you're doing the right thing - you just call and ask. But. You want to ask in such a way that they think gee whiz - we should definitely read this script!

So in other words, rather than calling and saying hello, do you accept queries - which leaves the door open for a quick "nope, goodbye," you want to call and introduce yourself as the writer of a great horror script (or whatever genre that production company tends to produce - please tell me you did your homework on that part) and you'd love to send it in for a read and who should you direct the query to? Sometimes the person answering the phone is an assistant or intern whose main directive is to keep random callers away from their boss. Sometimes the person answering the phone IS the boss - it depends on the company. So be very respectful when you call because you just don't know what the situation is in that particular company.

So my nutshell advice would be to research each company a bit first using IMDB Pro, the HCD Online or if you're very lucky, Studio System. Make sure that what you've written is at all a fit for this company. Second, when you call, really pitch yourself. Do it briefly but do it effectively. So for example:

Hi, my name is Melody Writesalot and I'm a writer with a great romantic comedy that I think might be a great fit for your company - are you looking for material right now? When they answer yes, say fantastic, can I send a logline and synopsis? And to whom should I direct that?

If they say no, obviously you thank them very professionally and get off the line. Keep it brief, be prepared to send a synopsis, and make sure you have targeted the production company carefully. Many writers can, do and will circumvent the phone call and just go ahead and query via email. But I personally think a phone call is a faster, more effective way to make sure you don't send an unwanted query. You can make the same inquiry via email, by the way. Almost as effective except your email can also be ignored. And yes, there are some companies that don't really want the phone calls either. You really have no way of knowing until you try. Letters can be ignored. Emails can be ignored. Phone calls can get shut down. There's no one right way and there's no guarantee. Get used to it.

Don't feel bad about the nine companies that said "no" about accepting query letters. That's the way it goes. Could be they aren't looking for new material right now. Could be they don't accept scripts or queries that don't come from an agent or manager. Rejection is the norm for writers. You have joined a grand tradition of suckage. I know how frustrating it is, believe me.

If you continue to hear "no" time after time, you may want to pursue representation instead. Now, normally, I would absolutely recommend representation as the first tack, not the second, but sometimes, smaller production companies are not super concerned with that and if they read your script, liked it and wanted to work with you, you can use an entertainment attorney or you can then get on the phone with some smaller managers and say look, I have X production company who would like to work with me and this script and I need rep.

The biggest mistake you can make is obviously sending a script that is not ready for prime-time. If you're going to pre-query via phone, have your excellent, brief, scintillating little speech down pat. Be prepared to get shut down rudely. Be prepared to be asked some questions. Be prepared to send a GREAT logline and synopsis. Be prepared to send a GREAT script.

If you have done all of the above and are still getting "no thanks" when you call, take it in stride. It's the way it goes. Just keep trying.

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Updates and Reminders

Good morning, Wavers! Just a reminder that the May 1st deadline for the Silver Screenwriting Competition is rapidly approaching. Don't miss out on this opportunity to take your nascent career to the next level by winning a trip to Los Angeles, staying in a four star hotel and taking three meetings with three managers. Not to mention having lunch with Josh Zetumer (DUNE) and winning a MacBook Air, cash and other cool stuff. Because we are still a baby competition (this is our second year) the chances of winning are significantly higher than older, larger competitions. So get those scripts polished up and enter by May 1st to enjoy a few days in LA and meet industry professionals who could just give you the chance you've been waiting for.

In other news, after intense negotiations, the Robotard 8000 has agreed to meet me in person this Friday afternoon for an exclusive interview. While I will learn their identities, I am sworn to secrecy but I will be able to find out the answers to scintillating questions like: Why? Has it worked? And what's next? The Robotard 8000, if you missed it, is a couple of mystery writers who took matters into their own hands and put their script BALLS OUT on the web. Last time I heard, they've had 7,000 views of the script. BALLS OUT is totally offensive, go-for-broke hilarious and anyone who would do such a cockamamie thing is someone I have to admire for their sheer - ahem - balls out approach. So Monday, right here on The Rouge Wave, we'll find out more about The Robotard 8000 and what makes them tick.

Have a lovely day, Wavers. And remember, get those scripts in to the Silver Screenwriting Competition so you can come out to LA, meet me, hang out and and take three really fun, really beneficial meeting with managers. For a video interview of last year's winner, Hilary Graham, go to our website.

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But - Why?

Once in awhile we get them at The Script Department. And at competitions and production companies too. Grand Guignol, slasher, gorenography scripts. I remember reading one in particular, years ago when I worked for another script coverage service, that made me physically ill. I told my boss - don't ever assign a script like that to me again. I felt violated. As if by reading this awful stuff, my mind had been invaded by the nightmares of a twisted writer. Thanks for that. Thanks for letting me get a peek into your world. And what did I get in return? An insight? An amazing twist? No. Just images that will take me weeks if not months to erase from my mind.

Now, it would seem as if the era of gorenography is well and truly over. But you still see the scripts, now and again. And they are so off-putting that even readers cringe. Which is saying a lot. You have to get up pretty early in the morning to shock a reader. But it's not shock so much as total revulsion. And it's pretty darn hard to assess the box office potential, theme and craft of a script when you want to puke your guts out while reading it. And, as chance would have it, one of my readers was assigned a script recently that gave her the same feeling. How could she cover a script when she felt physically ill reading it? Well - it's hard.

But the number one question to ask the writer when reading a script like this is: Why? What does it mean? What are you really saying here? And who is your audience? After the shock, after the horror, after the needing to barf behind the theater - what will audiences take away from this experience? What new insights will they have?

Now, I know that this topic applies to only .5% of the screenwriting population because scripts of this nature are few and far between. Thank goodness. But the larger lesson still applies - why? Why are you telling this story? What will audiences take away from it? After the explosions, after the romantic encounter, why are you telling this story? What is your contribution to the story telling tradition?

Audiences, and cave people gathered around a fire before them, simply want to be entertained. They want to take their minds off of their own lives for two hours. But they have a deeper need as well. They want to feel. We need to feel. Dread, hope, anger, love - that's why we go to the movies.

So whether you're writing drama, romcom, sci-fi or horror - what is your audience getting in the way of entertainment and feeling? Not YOU - the audience. Now, we know that you need to feel the same emotions yourself as you write the script but you have to bear in mind that you are, at the end of the day, creating a product meant to interact with an audience. So take a step back from your script and ask - how and why is this entertaining...not to you but to millions of movie-goers?

And if you are writing something deeply shocking, doubly so you must ask - why? What is the meaning of this material? Being shocking is easy. Being violent is easy. Stirring up primal feelings is easy. We all fear being murdered. We all want to throw up when we see someone being dismembered. But - why?

In GOODFELLAS the opening scene - a man being stabbed in the trunk of a car - is fairly shocking. But as the story begins to unfold, we learn about the world within which this type of violence exists and why. It isn't violence for violence's sake - it is grounded in time, place and character. Pesci is a loose cannon. And he will ultimately pay for that. Even in the world of brutal mob violence, there is a code and there are consequences.

THE STRANGERS is actually a pretty good movie, and the bottom line was that there was no reason for the events that took place. When asked why the attackers were targeting the doomed couple, they say "because you were home." Which is a very memorable - and awful - moment. And while THE STRANGERS is a very scary and somewhat upsetting movie, it didn't cross the line of out-and-out tendon snapping, organ pulsing, brain matter spattering. I took away an insight into disconnect, chaos and random violence. To me, THE STRANGERS speaks to that basic fear we all have that as ordered as our own lives are, random violence still lurks. But again, this was not pure gorenography, either.

Readers are just people. People with families, pets and rent to pay. If what you've written is an orgy of blood spatters and shock value so off-putting that the reader gives the script back and says nope, I won't read this - Houston, you got quite a problem. Because readers are the gatekeepers. Yes, they have specialized skills and have read hundreds if not thousands of scripts but think of readers as Every Audience Member. And if you can't get past a reader, you're sunk.

So pull it back, tone it down or at minimum answer the big question: Why? What are audiences going to feel beyond terror and revulsion? Alfred Hitchcock knew that real, primal fear comes from what you do NOT see. A bomb ticking under the table of a group of unaware diners is a thousand times scarier than a person coming straight at a character with a knife. Dread is much more potent than simply watching something play out. If we wanted to see a body dismembered, we'd sign up for an anatomy class.

Write what you will, write what you care about, but check in with yourself and make sure you aren't writing something shocking just to be shocking. Because the shock factor alone will not be enough to hide poor character development, weak structure, lack of theme or anything else.

Once the reader has regained some equilibrium and decided against lunch for a couple more hours, he or she is going to ask: How does this material comment on humanity? What does it reveal about us? What is entertaining about this? How will audiences react? If a reader can't stomach your script, then the exec in charge won't be able to either.

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Wrylies Redux

Good morning, Wavers! For today's reading pleasure, here is a previous RW blog post from a couple of years back about the use of wrylies. Sometimes I use an older post because it's hot, I'm tired and I gotta be somewhere and other times it's because the topic bears repeating. Today's post falls under both categories. So enjoy.

***

Wrylies are what I actually prefer to call parentheticals – what writers use to indicate tone, attitude and sometimes an action that implies a tone or an attitude.

John (sarcastically) Your blog is great.

I have seen some strange things in wrylies. I have seen entire, long action lines in wrylies like:

Gertrude: (She sips his coffee, stares at him then thinks about last night. She smiles) Really? Your blog’s not bad either.

You think I’m kidding. I do not make these stories up. Welcome to the tragicomic world of the reader. That last parenthetical is of course is an example of a gross misinterpretation of what might be acceptable in a wrylie. Generally speaking, writers should use them sparingly and keep their contents, on the whole, to things like:

(coyly)
(softly)
(distracted)
(under her breath)
(to himself)
(chewing)
(tiredly)
(bewildered)
(cringing)
(blushing)

Ask yourself, before using a parenthetical, if it is really necessary. In other words, can the emotion or action you wish to describe be conveyed in the action line or in the dialogue itself? Whenever that is possible, please, please don’t use a wrylie.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s no law against wrylies; they won’t get your script tossed into the circular immediately, but the more you use them, the more I think your writing skills are not terrific. Be judicious, limit the usage as much as possible and remember these simple wrylie rules:

1) Never put in a wrylie what can be indicated in an action line. No (walking faster) or (remembering last night) or (wondering if the coffee is too strong) or (looking her up and down).

2) Don’t indicate emotion in the wrylie unless there is no other possible choice. Maybe your character is hurtling toward earth after his parachute has broken.

Douglas: (sarcastically) Oh, this was a good idea.

Since he is hurtling, it would be tough to show him rolling his eyes or shifting his weight as he’s being a wiseacre.

3) Don’t use wrylies more than occasionally. A plethora will only lead to this:

Reader: (annoyed) Please kill me now.

4) Don’t use wrylies as an aside to the reader. Again, you think I’m kidding, but this example is a real one: (what you see next will amaze you). Now if you're Shane Black, that could be really cool. But you're probably not Shane Black.

Reader: (icy disdain) This is such a PASS writer.

Action lines are just that – indicating action, movement, description, location. Yes? Yes. Wrylies are very small asides (laughing) (wheezing) (amazed). Used with restraint, they add a very light touch to a moment. It is better to use (to himself) than taking up the space in an action line to say:

John mumbles to himself -

John: Parachuting was your idea, idiot!

versus

John: (to himself) Parachuting was your idea, idiot!

Wrylies are about flow – they are shorthand way to give us, in a word or maybe two, a snapshot of the situation. Nothing more, nothing less. Wrylies should not impose; they should have quiet impact. Consider the wrylie the shy cousin who lives in the attic...emerging rarely but to great effect.

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That Script

So Wavers - have you written that script yet? The script that you've wanted to write your whole life? The one that might bring you acclaim and awards? The one story you were born to tell? I haven't. I've written some scripts I really like, mind you (and a lot that I loathe and am embarrassed about too) but no, I haven't written the script that is my ORDINARY PEOPLE. But I have a feeling that there is a story on par with OP that I am going to tell. Well - on par, I mean, that's incredibly ambitious. I just mean I know I have a story to tell that is very emotional and powerful and I have some inkling what it is going to be about but it hasn't yet totally formed within me. When it does, I'll know.

In the last issue of Script Magazine, there was an interview with Sean McGinly, who wrote and directed THE GREAT BUCK HOWARD - a script, incidentally, that I covered for Walden Media several years ago. McGinly worked as an assistant for The Amazing Kreskin, the mentalist after whom Buck Howard is modeled. It was a crappy job and one that depressed the hell out of McGinly. And yet - here's the last paragraph of his amazingly well written article:

During the strange chapter of my life working for Kreskin, I don't think I could have possibly felt more hopeless or lost. In my wildest dreams, I couldn't have imagined that it would lead, 12 years later, to me standing on a movie set with John Malkovich in a wig as he brought The Great Buck Howard to life. I guess this all brings me back to the advice to remain open and vulnerable. The truth about writing, and life I suppose, is that we really don't know what will come out of our experiences. It's important as a writer to learn structure and other skills of the craft, but after that, it's all about the ability to find inspiration from our lives or from the world or from our own imaginations. Amazing things can happen when we do.

Isn't that fascinating and motivating? It could be that something you are observing or experiencing in your life right now, or the life of someone you love, or a newspaper headline, is already beginning to marinate deep within your creative psyche, Wavers. And that something, whatever it is, may be the genesis of that script. The most important one you'll ever write. The one that will lead to your success, personal catharsis or both. The one story you were meant to tell. A few things have happened in my life in the past few years that strike me as components of that script. I haven't yet figured out exactly what the story is, but I can feel it beginning to form. And it's exciting. Everything else I've written to date and continue to write is all preparation for that script.

How about you, Wavers? Have you already written that script? Or like me, is it something that is still forming within you? Is there something happening in your life right now or in the recent past that might be a part of that amazing script but you don't yet know it?

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Twilight

Curious about all the hulaballoo, the Mini-W and I watched TWILIGHT yesterday evening. We had hoped that the movie would be a kind of girl-power paean, what with the fact that it was written by a woman, directed by a woman and had a female lead. Sure, sure, the thing with the vampires, but this cultural phenomenon - which drew huge crowds of female tweens - was clearly having an impact and we wanted to find out what great female-empowerment messages were embedded in the material.

We were sorely disappointed. The movie is like a romance novel for teens and not much more than that. The smoldering, brooding stares from across the cafeteria, delivered with aplomb by actor Robert Pattinson (lead romantic vampire Edward Cullen) were just - embarrassing. His heavy lidded I-can't-live-without-you-but-I-kind-of-want-to-kill-you-and-it-hurts-so-good gazes are the kind of thing couples do when they are joking. Usually someone winds up with a pillow thrown at them. But no, millions of 12-year-old girls are imprinting this cinematic experience upon their collective ideas and ideals of romance. Cullen says to our lead character, the realistically named Bella Swan, after knowing her for as far as we could tell, two weeks: You are my LIFE. I can haz restraining order pleze?

And you know, this is what bothered the Mini-W and me more than the SUPER cheesy fx (the running through the forest scene is hilarious: blurry legs beneath a smoothly gliding torso), the lame romance novel story beats, the super cheerful vampire family who plays baseball together and the overall toxic level of melodrama complete with slo-mo entrances through fog - yeah all that stuff bugged us but in a fun way in which we laughed really really hard - what left us with a bad taste in our mouths was the way the main vampire dude, Edward, is clearly a freaky obsessive when it comes to his love interest, Bella. And his words and actions are lit in the soft, golden glow of true love. A guy who said or did anything similar to the Mini-W would find himself slapped with a restraining order post haste. But seen through the eyes of Bella and delivered to the minds of millions of tweens, this is what romance is like:

Stuff Edward says to Bella:
You are my LIFE!
I like to watch you sleep.
I can't trust myself around you.
I'm a vegetarian; we only drink animal blood.

Is it just us or does this sound like FATAL ATTRACTION for tweens? Only - it's NOT a cautionary tale, it's romantic. No, young, formative tween - obsession is not weird, it's romantic. When he watches you sleep and climbs through your window unannounced, when he claims he can't live without you after having known you for 12 days, that's epic love that cannot be denied! It's totally cool, man. It means you are the center of his universe! And, when a guy is brooding, hurt and tortured inside, you can cure him! Love is the answer! Bad boys are good for you.

Wha-??

Seen through the prism of feminism - no, scratch that - seen through the prism of modeling for young girls what self-esteem and healthy bonding is made of - this movie is not only a disaster, it's frightening. No girl power here, just messages of how being the center of someone's universe to the point where they like to watch you sleep is validating of your gender role.

Of course the movie also has a ton of vampire desire as (barely) sublimated sexual desire, which is as old as the vampire story itself...so I get that. But this is aimed at 12-year-old girls. Who do have a burgeoning sexual and romantic self. But to cast that in the light of obsessive need and validation through being some kind of gauzy, feminine balm for a clearly effed up guy - man, those are not messages I'd want my daughter to soak in. Sure it's all cloaked in abstinence, nobody ever does it in Twilight (yeah, because 17-year-olds don't just go out to the shed and do it) but the lack of sex does not make up for the powerful, archaic, damaging message that being the object - yes OBJECT - of the attention of a messed up bad boy is a good thing because messed up bad boys are sexy and they want you. And being wanted by a boy - that's what tells you you're good enough. See?

Is this how far we've come, baby? Really?

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The Flight of the Conchords

So have any Wavers watched HBO's FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS? What a strange, delightful, weird show. When I watched the very first episode of the very first season, after having heard friends rave about the show, I must admit I was flummoxed. It was funny - I guess. In a very awkward way. I mean, New Zealand accents are actually a little hard to understand and I didn't quite get the tone of the show. By the second episode, I was hooked. And the more I watched, the more I got hooked. Those Kiwis are addictive.

For those of you who know nothing about the F of the Cs, it's an HBO series that airs Sunday evenings at 10pm and is about to wrap up its second season. It's about a New Zealand folk music duo - Brett and Jemaine - who have moved to New York and are trying to book gigs through their dedicated but totally inept manager, Murray. They have one fan - stalker Mel - a hilarious, hilarious actor, and live in a crappy apartment. They are an odd brand of man/boy - they are quite naive and trusting but also clearly dim. It's the details of the show that crack me up. The posters touting New Zealand in the background at the consulate: New Zealand - Don't expect much. You'll love it! And of course, the music - the show is interspersed with songs by Brett and Jemaine and the lyrics are ridiculous. Not to mention the music. But Brett and Jemaine take themselves and their music quite seriously. Rhys Darby, who plays Murray, is for me the best part. He insists upon band meetings in which roll call is necessary. Brett: yes. Jemaine: yes. Murray: present. His devotion to the band is nothing short of delusional - and yet it is heartwarming.

Like SEINFELD, it's a show about not much. Brett and Jemaine face difficulties like getting mugged, needing new fans, going on a warm-up tour. Most of their gigs take place at libraries, aquariums and empty bars. They are unaware of the absolute lack of actual progress as a band. The episode in which a fruit vendor is racist because he thinks they're Aussies is my favorite. The constant poking fun at New Zealand is priceless. New Zealand! Rocks!

The attention to detail and backstory is great. Their one fan Mel is married to a man who plays solitaire in the basement and drives her to Conchords gigs. When Brett is in the bathroom at Mel's house, she pokes her head in the door to "check" on him and to her right, there is a picture on the wall - such a small detail - of a sketched nude male with both Brett's and Jemaine's heads cut from a picture and glued onto its head. Mel, by the way, is a junior professor of psychology. And, yes, a stalker. The New Zealand Consulate, where Murray works as an attache, is housed in the same building as businesses like All Asian Massage and a meat distributor.

If you haven't seen the show, rent or buy the first season. It's a cult favorite and it's highly entertaining once you become accustomed to the particularity of the world. The artful construct of that world, from a writing standpoint, is the strength of the show. Totally character driven, it highlights the ridiculous music and the naivete of the band. It's a fish out of water construct - but what fish.

World. Particularity. Irony. Details. FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS is a show that aspiring writers should watch at least once. Because this, Wavers, is how it's done.

To learn more about Brett, Jemaine and their journey as comedians and performers, click HERE.

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V.O. versus O.S.

Most of us know what (V.O.) means when it appears after your character's name on your script pages: voiceover. And then there's (O.S.) or (O.C.). Both mean the same thing: offscreen or off-camera. The upshot is that (O.S.) is used when we hear your character's voice but don't see them because they are in another room, behind a plant or other large object or just - and here's the fun part - out of our view for whatever reason. You'll see why that can be fun in a minute.

Voiceover means your character is NOT in the scene whatsoever but they are narrating something - potentially even something from the next scene. Yep - I know that sounds weird but let me give you some examples.

EXT. CORNFIELD - DAY

Rows of corn undulate under a blue sky.

DORIS (V.O.)
I grew up on a farm. And it was on this farm that I learned to be a man. Yes. A man.

A windmill picks up the wind and turns - crick crick crick.

DORIS (V.O.)
That's right. I was the first gender-awkward man in Tuolumne County.

- So our character is narrating this story over a view of her lovely corn farm in Tuolumne County. And that's a real county and it's pronounced "Twah-luh-me." Just FYI.

But then we might have:

EXT. CORNFIELD - DAY

The wind picks up. A storm is approaching. The hat FLIES off the scarecrow.

DORIS (V.O.)
And the biggest test I had as a man was the day the big storm came.

INT. EDITOR'S OFFICE - DAY

A fancy high rise in Manhattan. DORIS (32), slender, pre-op, a thin five o'clock shadow, in jeans and a flannel shirt, sits across from a literary editor.

DORIS
It was an F5 tornado. The only ones who were safe were the ones down in the coal mine.

EDITOR
Doris - I mean, Don - I have to stop you right there. Coal mine?
This is -

He looks down at his paperwork.

EDITOR
...California, right?

So we used V.O. with the images of the cornfield and then as we roll into the next scene, we see that Doris is sitting right there and that's where the V.O. came from. We didn't have to do that; we could have then jumped into the tornado scene and picked up the dialogue as the tornado is actually happening.

Another fun way to use V.O. is to use it for comedic or ironic effect - you can juxtapose the image with the content of the V.O. Right? Does that make sense?

INT. COAL MINE - DAY

MINERS sweat and toil in the inky darkness.

DORIS (V.O.)
Daddy worked hard for his money.

INT. CORPORATE OFFICE - DAY

An older man with a mane of silver hair winds up a phone call.

MAN
I don't care how many particulates they inhale! I need more coal!

He slams down the phone. Presses the button for his secretary.

MAN
Get my daughter on the phone, STAT!

So as long as you don't abuse it, there are a lot of fun ways to use V.O. for entertaining and informative purposes.

O.C. or O.S. means, once more, that the person is THERE somewhere, just not visible to us.

So you might have:

INT. CORPORATE OFFICE - DAY

MAN
I don't care how many particulates they inhale! I need more coal!

He slams down the phone. Presses the button for his secretary.

MAN
Get my daughter on the phone, STAT!

DORIS (O.S.)
You mean your son.

Doris hands her father piping hot coffee. His eyes widen.

MAN
Doris?

DORIS
It's Don now, Dad. It's Don.

So we used the O.S. just to make that little exchange more fun. It takes a sec to see Doris. It's like he/she is the sidler from Seinfeld.

So (V.O.) and (O.S.) are differentiated because one is literally a voice over a scene with the person being totally absent because this is perhaps a memory, or perhaps the origin of the voice is revealed in the following scene.

(O.S.) means the person is in the scene but they aren't visible for whatever reason - because they are in the bathroom and we hear them but can't see them. Because they are in another room. Because we just aren't showing them for a sec because it's funnier or scarier that way. For example:

EXT. FARMHOUSE - NIGHT

A man looks at a creaky, fall-down barn. Bats SWARM out of the rafters.

EDWARD
Let's start the tear-down tomorrow, Shirl!

MAN (O.S.)
I wouldn't do that if I were you.

Ed whirls around. He's face to face with his DEAD FATHER!

So V.O. and O.S. - know the difference and use them well. And before you ask, yes it's okay to use V.O. as long as you don't abuse it by being too expositional or heavy-handed. Use it for good, not evil. Don't be lazy.

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Lessons From American Idol: Part II

Yeah, yeah, I know I'm eight seasons too late to be interested in AMERICAN IDOL. I avoided it for a long time. But I'm really struck by the parallels between this show and the journey of writers. Everything from the early auditions, when people think they can sing because their friends and parents told them so, to the current episodes in which singers are adept but not 100% unique.

In particular, there is one singer, Lil Rounds, who has a great voice. The girl can sing. But her choices so far have been homages to other artists but without her own touch - and that has held her back from greatness. She's imitating, not innovating. And that can be the death of many a talented screenwriter.

The same but different is something we've all heard before. It's supposedly what audiences want in a movie. Something that is a little familiar to them, and yet something that surprises and delights them too.

Last week, when Adam Lambert performed "Mad World," we had the perfect example of "the same but different." A familiar song, but he took it to another level of its potential. He put his own stamp on it. A performance like that makes you want to listen to the original again (or even the cover by Gary Jules, featured on the DONNIE DARKO soundtrack) AND to listen to Adam's rendition again and again.

There's no question that all of the finalists on AMERICAN IDOL can sing. They are all talented, no doubt about that. But, the question then becomes who can perform under pressure and pull it out time after time and who can stand out from the pack in terms of originality? Or, as we writers would say - who has a VOICE?

Every day, as I am wont to say, hundreds and hundreds of scripts arrive in Hollywood. The vast majority of them are not competitive. Think of this phase as those early AMERICAN IDOL auditions when you have thousands of screaming would-be competitors crowded into auditoriums, waiting for a chance to try out. Some are delusional, some are clowns - and some - a very few, can actually sing.

You're not worried about the delusional and the clowns. Your competition is the writers who can actually write. Now we come down to meaningful competition. But of those who can actually write - how many are also good in a room, able to handle pressure and able to write not one good script - but another one and another after that? Now the competition dwindles to just a handful.

The sorting process goes something like this:

Writers who can actually write
Writers who can write more than one good script
Writers who write consistently, with discipline
Writers who can handle feedback and take notes
Writers who can handle rejection, disappointment and setbacks
Writers who can generate fresh ideas
Writers who are good in a room and can pitch well
Writers who are fearless and confident

...and even then, Wavers, even when you reach the top tier of confidence, experience, professionalism and consistent writing, the odds are very much against you. But you have to go through the various auditions - the points along the way when other writers either drop out or get sorted out of the running.

There are troubling signs along the way that can sometimes indicate a writer doesn't have what it takes. New writers who get IRATE about notes or feedback - not a good sign. Writers who take rejection too much to heart. Writers who stay on the same level of doing great karaoke but who can't break through to find their own unique voice. But the good news is you can work to break through any of these levels. As they say, the difference between writers in this town who make it and those who don't is that those who made it never gave up trying.

But in order to evolve, you have to recognize where you are on the scale. You have to listen to the feedback you are receiving - sometimes it's silent feedback in the form of not getting read requests off of queries. Maybe it's pass after pass. Maybe you go postal when you get notes you don't like or agree with. Maybe you FREEZE in a room. Maybe you write well but your scripts are soft and derivative. It's okay - just be honest about where you are. That's the only way to reach the next level.

I wonder, when a contestant on AMERICAN IDOL goes home - what do they do next? Do they bitterly voodoo curse Simon Cowell and rage to the skies that they were unfairly treated? Or do they take what they learned and use it to become a better singer/performer? Well, I suppose either choice is a legitimate one. What would you do? Are you going to use your experiences to build a case that the world is not fair to you and that nobody gets your brilliance? Or are you going to make an honest assessment and use the information you gather to recharge yourself and your writing to keep evolving and improving?

Continuing to evolve, being open to feedback and continuing to put that behind in a chair is what separates the men from the mice. Yes, sometimes it's exhausting. Some writers just think you know what, I just don't have the passion, eight scripts in, to keep up with this. And that's okay, that's a legitimate life choice. But you out there, you writers who can see no other life for yourselves than to break into Hollywood and write a produced movie? You are on an Iron Man Triathlon. Others will fall away, the path may sometimes feel lonely and difficult, but nurture that core passion and get back up and keep writing. That's the only way through to the end game. And when you reach that end game, you'll find the most ironic thing of all - it's not the end, it's a new beginning. So you wrote a script that sold and was produced. Can you do it again? Can you stay relevant? Now that you made it onto Sold Writer Island, can you manage not to get voted off?

Writing, particularly writing for entertainment, is not for babies. It's only that weird, slightly obsessive part of yourself, the part that makes you NEED to write, that can be your sword and your shield on this strange journey. Don't be afraid to take stock of who you are and where you are. There's no shame in being like Lil Rounds - she's amazing - she's made it very far. She can sing better than 99% of the population. But in a competition, that's not good enough. If that thought makes you quail, you may not have what it takes. There's only one way to find out. Keep. Writing.

And yes, you will have very bad writing days. I had one just yesterday. Bad writing, not having fun, not feeling the love. Writing sucks, let's just be honest. But it's not going to stop me from sitting back down today and getting back to work. Being a writer is like marriage: for better or for worse, through sickness and health, for richer or poorer. Good writers have bad days. Bad writers have good days. For my money, the absolute worst stage you could be at is not the doubt, not the rejection, not the freezing in a room, but being a screaming contestant sure you can sing but the truth is - you can't. That is horrible. To not honestly know what your skills are.

I find that the intensity of writers is usually inversely proportionate to their talent. I have not done a scientific study but I have worked with hundreds of writers and I have found this to be a pattern. Good or even great writers are generally fairly mellow and humble. Bad writers are usually strident, defensive and insistent that they are great. I think when you're good and you know it, you don't have the need to insist or be validated. When you're not so good, a defense mechanism can kick in, making you need to insist that you are GOOD as a way of coping with the fact that in reality, the idea of being a writer is what you are in love with.

There are Wavers reading this right now who fall into every category I have listed or mentioned in this whole blog post. All up and down the scale. I can't know whether each and every one of you can or cannot write, will or will not succeed. It doesn't matter what I think. It just matters that you be honest with yourself. If your GPS is not set to the true starting point, you'll never get to your destination.

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Action Lines: Opportunities Waiting to Happen

One of the weird things about table reads is that the action lines are read aloud along with the dialogue. It's slightly counter-intuitive because in the movie version of your script the action lines are, well, actions that are happening, not words someone is reading aloud. But when your script is read, there's that translation that happens in the mind of the reader - I'm reading your action lines and visualizing the actions you are describing. Right? I mean, we know that.

This is one of the things that makes screenwriting SO unique - action lines are meant to be READ at first, but read in such a way that they paint a picture. Then later, they will be read and interpreted into images and actions. So that, for example:

EXT. LAKE MICHIGAN - DAWN

The icy lake is steel grey, tinged with pale blue. A flock of GEESE flies overhead, HONKING. The sun begins to rise, bathing the lake with a honeyed glow.

....becomes a shot, right? And if this shot makes it into the final draft of your script and everyone loves it, a camera crew will shoot on location - might not be THAT great lake, might be some lake that looks really big and cold and steely. Might not be at dawn, might be at dusk. Might have to CG the geese or might get lucky. "Honeyed glow" might be a real sunrise or it might be done in post production. But you see, this very short, quick description of mine will now require a whole set of filmic actions to bring to life. But in that initial read, the reader is absorbing a mood , and the lake is setting that mood. Does it matter, then, if you wrote the same action line like this:

EXT. LAKE MICHIGAN - DAWN

The sun comes up over the large, cold lake. Geese fly overhead.

Well, no - look, it's the same shot, right? And the second example used way fewer words. But which description was more cinematic, sensory and memorable to you? It's all about finding YOUR voice and YOUR way of describing things, but I promise you that the more cinematic your writing, the more absorbed your reader will be in your script. And the better writer you are (better defined here as: both cinematic AND pithy) the better people will react to your script. Not to mention that an agent or manager will definitely not be impressed by or drawn to utilitarian writing that is there to just get the job done and move on.

Some screenwriters complain - hey, my action lines are just that - they are actions that are happening; camera movements and descriptions of visuals. So why do they have to be written WELL and held up to the same standards as prose? Because they will be READ, that's why. Read and seen and felt by a reader - then later, read, seen, felt and translated into images by the actors and the director.

At table reads, most writers are eager to hear how the dialogue sounds. That is the primary focus, usually. And they get a little yeah yeah, get through the action lines, I want to hear the characters interacting. But. Hearing your action lines read gives you a chance, for one thing, to hear how those action lines are translated by a reader. In other words, if your trusty narrator is stumbling over some of the words in your action lines, or sounds like they are going on and on as they read - it's a reflection upon the action lines themselves.

You might have too much black; you might have chosen alliterative or unnecessarily complicated words. Or you might be over-directing the characters. Take one recent example - a character in the pages is a cigar smoker. And he's veritably always holding onto, sniffing, smoking or otherwise fondling his cigar. So the writer wrote that in the action lines. Throughout the script. So that this character's lines of dialogue were always preceded and peppered with the business with his cigar - which interrupted the flow of the read. Because every single time this character spoke, we first had to read an action line about something he was doing with his cigar. Frustrating for the actor trying to just do his dialogue with flow and emotion and frustrating for the audience having to hear repetitive lines about a cigar.

Now: There are people (and characters) who are always fiddling with something - their hair, cigar, gun, cigarettes - whatever. But in general, if it's just fiddling that we're talking about, set it up early in the script and then leave it out after that. Why? Because the actor gets it already: I'm a cigar-fiddler. Micro-directing how that character is repeating personal gestures takes up space on your script pages and unnecessarily interrupts the flow of the read.

INT. PARLOR - NIGHT

Emil sniffs his cigar appreciatively.

EMIL: Your move, my friend.

He snips the end of his cigar.

FRANK: Ah, so it is.

Emil searches his jacket pocket for a lighter.

FRANK: Check and mate, my friend.

Emil lights his cigar and inhales. The smoke swirls around his face.

EMIL: Fair enough. I suppose you'll want your payment at the usual time?

Emil ashes his cigar.

FRANK: At dawn. By the lake. And bring rope.

AARRHGHGH - we get it with the cigar already! Because something really interesting is happening here; these two men have made a bet and Frank won and holy shit, by the lake with a rope? But the lines about the stupid cigar interrupt the flow of that. And Wavers, I know you think I make up examples to make my point in the most heavy-handed way possible and yet I swear upon my mother's blue eyes that this is the kind of action line writing I have seen many times over.

Remember, when someone is reading your script, they are primarily drawn to the lines of dialogue. Firstly, this is a visual thing - the dialogue is centered on the page. Secondly, the dialogue is where the story moves forward. Right? It is true that readers sometimes skim action lines, particularly if they are a bit dense. I don't mean SKIP - I mean SKIM. Because remember, readers have to time their reads - they have several more scripts to go this week and they just need the UPSHOT of your script. So if your action lines are dense and not particularly entertaining, they start skimming in order to facilitate just getting through the read.

Now - seriously - you don't want your action lines skimmed. So you have to make them melodious and interesting. You have to make them a value-added part of the experience of reading your script - a delightful, cinematic bonus. Just be careful not to overwrite your action lines; your character smokes cigars - we get it. And perhaps more importantly, the actor gets it. Set it up early and leave it alone. Or find another, more clever way of indicating the relationship between this character and his or her cigar, hair, gum, fingernails or zipper.

Try having your own table read. Have a friend or loved one play the narrator and the characters - have them read just a few pages. And listen to the way the action lines sound read aloud. Are they lengthy? Is your friend stumbling through them? Are certain gestures of a character crowding the pages or interrupting dialogue?

Action lines that are o-k-a-y get the job done. Action lines that are exceptional get writers repped and sold. It's pretty simple, Wavers. Interrupting your dialogue with action lines that micro-direct a character and his cigar is unclever-scriptus-interruptus-gimme-a-breakus.

Which is better writing - to show us repetitive details of fidgeting with a cigar or to write a character who is the essence of one who smokes cigars - whether that's expensive cubans or cheap cigarellos? What is the cigar really about, in other words? It's not just a prop; it's a way of being and thinking. So capture THAT rather than leaning on the prop itself.

Yes, action lines are, in part, utilitarian; but a good writer never leaves it at that. Why just state what's going on when you can show the reader your beautiful command of the language and your ability to direct the eye cinematically? Why have a cold lake when you can have a steel grey one with the honking of migrating geese echoing across it as the sun rises? Why do something just all right when you can do it exceptionally?

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This I Believe

So I was listening to NPR the other day, as I am wont to do, and I heard the very last installment of their This I Believe series. It was Muhammad Ali talking about what he believes about life. It was fascinating. And I thought - how interesting, making a statement about what you believe is like writing a mission statement, isn't it? And a mission statement is a bit like a great logline isn't it? It's a very core, fundamental statement about your script.

Long time Wavers know I tend to harp on the fact that screenwriting is only one kind of writing and that you should develop the muscles and the skills to write for other mediums. Short fiction, poetry, non-fiction, first person essays - well, how about we get a two-fer today?

How about Wavers write a 100-word This I Believe Statement and submit it to the comments section here? It's a way to think about and focus on your core values and beliefs but with a strict word limit. The word limit - just like in writing a great logline - forces you to distill your thoughts into the most powerful expression possible. And here's the two-fer part - as you do this, you'll revisit and reinforce what your core values and beliefs are. In a busy, busy world we don't check in with ourselves often enough and ground ourselves in what we really believe to be true of ourselves and this life. There's just so much noise and distraction. But if we don't check in with why we're here on this planet, then we're chucking the guidebook out the window.

Easter celebrates the resurrection of Christ, but as a metaphor, it celebrates the possibilities of rebirth and new paradigms. Passover celebrates freedom from adversity and new beginnings. So it seems appropriate on this Easter and Passover holiday to take a moment to do an uplifting writing exercise that reinforces who we really are and what we hold dear.

So here's my This I Believe:

I believe that happiness is not about stuff or achievements, but a feeling of well-being. I believe that knowing the universe is fundamentally good is the only thing you need to know for sure. I believe there are no mistakes, accidents or wrongs that won’t unfold into grace down the road. I believe that grace is where courage, wisdom and laughter meet. I believe in being nice to people. I believe in playing more and worrying less. I believe we are the writers, directors and producers of our lives and that we tell the story we want to be in.

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Secret to Your Success REVEALED

Flip through your most recent copy of Creative Screenwriting or Script Magazine and focus on the ads. Yeah - that's mine, very good, thank you. Nice artwork, I know.

Look, I'm a writer just like you. And I just saw an ad for a very cool looking writer's retreat - I've never been to one and they appeal to me mightily. I have a lifelong dream of going to Yaddo or enrolling in the Iowa Writers' Workshop. Maybe one day. A retreat strikes me as a great use of money and time. Because the rewards have legs. Teach a man to fish and all that.

But some of the other ads, the ones that promise to reveal some SECRET to success - those make me so uncomfortable. Because, Wavers, there is no big secret that someone can teach you that will magically make a sale for you. There. Just. Isn't. Believe it.

With the economy in a tailspin, we are all forced to make tough decisions and really look at our expenses and test each one for how much it is really needed. In times past, we all had more disposable income and it was easy and fun to go to Target and spend $200 on stuff and we didn't think twice. We need stuff, right? Take a look at your home - look at all your stuff. I bet you have a lot. I do.

And just like anyone else, I get the feeling that some new stuff will bring happiness, security, success - whatever. When I was married, I was a shopper. Because shopping alleviated boredom and stuff feathered my nest with - well, stuff. Looking back now I see that I had been the ideal consumer - stuff makes you happy! You NEED this Pottery Barn furniture because then you'll be just like the photograph of a stuff-filled home which connotes comfort, success and classiness! Oh, and relevancy and happiness! Oh, how ridiculous. Do you know that temporary high of getting something new? Your new car, new clothes, new iPhone - it's like a new toy and it provides entertainment - for awhile. Then it's just more stuff you have. And you're no happier. Or more successful. What a line of baloney we've all been fed.

We live in a consumer driven culture and yes, there is a lot of stuff that does enrich, educate and fulfill us. But you have to check in with yourself - am I getting this stuff because I'm bored? Am I getting this stuff because it promises me that I'll be happier? Or more successful? But - will it really? Honestly?

Don't get me wrong; I'm all about seeking out joy and fulfillment. But when particular products or services tell screenwriters that they will learn some huge SECRET that will OPEN THE DOORS TO HOLLYWOOD I get kind of uncomfortable.

Because, and I'll say it again - there is no big secret that everybody knows that you do not.

Wait - no - there is. I'm charging $53.99 per view of this big secret:

Ass in chair.

Okay, you can send payments to: bigsecret@thescriptdepartment.com. Go ahead. Operators are standing by.

As a service provider for aspiring screenwriters, I obviously believe that objective feedback is an important part of your development - otherwise you can write all you want and have no idea if you're improving. If I didn't truly believe that, if I hadn't benefited from it myself, if I didn't see the impact great feedback has on writers, I wouldn't be able to sleep at night. Because I was born with a very strong ethical-ometer [technical term --Ed.] and I can't earn my living providing a service that writers don't actually need and also live with myself. I'm just not built that way. From time to time the board of directors of my company considers, then scraps, ideas that would earn us money but not really benefit you demonstrably. We just don't roll that way.

There are consumer junkies of every stripe. The techno-gadget junkies. The home furnishings and lifestyle junkies. The cosmetics and beauty supplies junkies. The DVD-buying entertainment system junkies. You name it. And for each type there is a whole industry set up to exploit the junkie and give him or her that HIGH of hope and safety and security.

Most screenwriters are pretty astute, but there are junkies in that world too. I have seen them browsing the tradeshows, snatching up armloads of books and software. I have seen them attend not one but three and four pitch fests each year. I have seen them attend not one but EVERY class and seminar. In a weird way, it's a great way to avoid actually writing. If you keep buying STUFF about screenwriting - somehow, by accretion, magically, your writing will improve.

R-i-g-h-t.

Look, I'm as guilty as some of you are - talking about screenwriting is way more fun than doing it. We'll do anything to avoid the terrifying quiet of sitting in front of our computers sometimes. And I really do get that.

But don't get taken for a fool. Big secret = bullshit.

I mean, look - of course you need to spend money on your screenwriting career. You do need to attend events, go to classes, buy some books and get feedback. It's all part of that five a day for writers I've spoken of before:

Write
Promote
Network
Learn
Live well

Check in with yourself before spending money on seminars, books and products. Is there a feeling there for you of desperation? Of a quick fix? If so - do NOT press "pay now." Be careful of where you spend your money and your time when it comes to screenwriting. New, better, faster and more is a myth. Ass. In chair. That's the only big secret. And even then, folks, even then, the odds are against you. Are you okay with that? You have to be.

Someone asked me the other day why I write The Rouge Wave. I thought about it for a minute. Because writing is really hard and isolating and I try to motivate you with humor and understanding. Because you need a cheerleader, a friend and a strict schoolmarm. Because sometimes you need to get over yourselves. Because somebody needs to tell the truth once in awhile. Because I want you to believe in yourselves. Honestly, I am YOUR fan, Wavers. I thank YOU for reading every day. Because writing is hard. But you're doing it against crazy odds. Because you can't help it. Because you have a story to tell. And because you want to express yourselves and make some sense in this crazy world. That is heroism. You are the ones who inspire me.

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Can You Hold My Attention?

I wouldn't describe myself as a script reader these days. Readers read two to three scripts per day. Now that I run a company that hires readers, I might read one or two scripts a week. And when I do, I really look forward to it. Oh for a quiet hour or so to sit with your script, turning the pages and getting lost in the world that you created. I get all comfy with some coffee or tea, turn down the radio and open the script.

I read a few pages. The phone rings. I ignore it and keep reading. My email chimes. Three times. I glance up to see what's up but return to the reading. The phone rings again; it's the director of the Attic Theater about tonight's table read - I gotta take it. After a 10 minute conversation, I return to your script - which page was I on? Oh, page 17, okay. I continue reading. Email keeps chiming. Oh shoot, that email has to be responded to right NOW. I jot off a quick reply. Now. Back to your script. What was happening? Where was I? And so on and so forth. There is no such thing as totally quiet, dedicated script reading time. It will get interrupted. And I'm just me - imagine an agent or manager reading your script. Multiply the phone calls and emails and knocks on the door by 1000.

But something strange happens when your script is engrossing. Suddenly, everything else around me goes quiet - I can't tear myself away from the pages. Yeah, yeah, I'll return that phone call but I just gotta see what happens, I'm just so swept up in these pages. Yesterday in the late afternoon that happened. I had to GO, I had a table read to host. But the script was really engaging me and I had to finish it. I kept glancing at the clock - gotta go - gotta go - but just two more pages. Just five more pages. Gotta finish this, gotta see how it ends...

On the other hand, and I'm sorry to say, this is the majority of the time, if your script is executed poorly - if I'm just not getting into the characters, if there are errors on the pages, if the storytelling itself is pedantic and unexciting, then the email chimes, phone calls and lunch dates suddenly become more pressing than your pages.

So Wavers, this is what you're up against. Because my situation is pretty normal. Even a script reader who does this as a full time job gets hungry for lunch, gets emails, phone calls and roommates poking their head in the door asking whose turn it is to vacuum. Nobody reads your script in a 100% ideal situation - i.e. uninterrupted, blissful silence.

So how can you overcome that fact? You need cinematic writing that moves. You need unforgettable characters. You need a premise that is unique and exciting. Those are the scripts that make the phone calls and other interruptions fade into the background. You can have whatever opinion you want about BALLS OUT, the Robotard Mystery Script, but it is, if nothing else, very engaging. It MOVES. It surprises, it offends and it makes you laugh. It is, in a word, engaging.

Engaging the reader. That's your job.

The first thing to overcome for you, the writer, is the difference between what engages YOU and what will engage and involve someone else. If you asked 10 writers whether their script is engaging, all 10 would say yes it is. Nobody ever tries to write a script that isn't. Right?

But the relationship between a writer and his or her script is inherently incestuous. You're too close to the material to imagine that it may not be as great to someone else as it is to you. You've read it and worked on it ad infinitum, so you have no perspective anymore. Is it entertaining? Well, sure, to YOU it is.

But is it really? Is it interruption proof? Will it make a professional reading your script ignore the ringing phone and be late for lunch?

That would make a great rating on the rating grid - engaging/entertaining/compelling. Fair, Good or Excellent. Maybe we should think about including that at The Script Department. Mama shall think that one over. But do you really want to hear the answer?

The most heartbreaking instance is when a script is executed just fine - no typos, clean action lines, a good page length - but the story is just, well, dull. It's fine. It's okay. It's just not that interesting.

Many of you may read scripts from time to time and you're thinking - hey! I stick to it! I don't get interrupted, my attention is held the whole time. Well, there's a wide gulf between you and a professional reader. For one thing, you are probably reading a professionally written and/or produced script in which the writer has a very high skill set. Or barring that, you're reading a script as a favor to someone and you're all amped up to do it. And another thing - you might read two or three scripts a month. Try reading two or three scripts a DAY and imagine then, that of the minimally 15 scripts you read in a week, that 13 made your eyes bleed.

Reading can sometimes be a real grind. Believe it. And your script enters into that grind as a new, fresh hope for that reader. Maybe THIS one will be a quick read. Maybe THIS one will crack me up or scare me or make me cry. Maybe THIS one will remind me how much I love good writing.

That's why readers get SO excited when your script rocks. Wow! One stood out! This writer changed my perspective, just a little bit. This writer entertained me, moved me and delighted me. God I love that feeling. It's the best feeling in the world. Well, you know, in the top 10.

Imagine this: You pick up a book and read a few pages. Not turning you on. You give it another few pages. Still not doing anything for you. You flip ahead. Eh. You look at the cover again. Meh. You read the author's bio on the back. Hmm. And you make the painful decision to put the book down. If you're a reader, you don't have that latitude. You MUST read the whole damn thing. And then write up your thoughts about it. If it was slow, unoriginal, laborious and filled with typos and mistakes, your coverage is going to reflect that without mercy.

So remember, after you've read all of your Save the Cats and Storys and Writing Great Character Blah-Blah books, after you've read The Rouge Wave everyday, the onus is still on you to write pages that engage and entertain. Your job is to write pages and tell a story that engages the reader. Your pages have to make the world go away.

There's no book that can tell you how to do that. It's called talent. And it's making sure that your premise - before you write the bloody script - is an interesting, original, entertaining one. Feedback helps. Being honest with yourself helps. So often newer writers can be very self-indulgent. How can the thinly veiled autobiographical story of how hard it was for you to find love when you were a student at UC San Diego not be TOTALLY exciting to someone else? Hint: It won't be.

Readers are jaded. J-a-d-e-d. We have already read every script known to man. The same stories are told over and over. What you think is totally original, to us is a script we read last week. Believe it. I know it's a very harsh truth. Your totally original sci-fi script? Yeah,I've read it before and it was better.

Awful awful awful, right? Well, it's the truth.

Get honest feedback from someone who either doesn't know you or someone willing to be 100% honest. So that rules out your mom, spouse and friends. Work HARD on hammering out a premise that is the same - but different. Dig down deep into the particularity of the world you are creating. Take the time to develop characters that really are unique. Write pages that move quickly and that are cinematic, colorful and entertaining.

Because the entertainment factor is everything. It is simply everything. And the golden pathway to that ineffable quality of engaging and entertaining is paved by everything above and then the one, magical ingredient that rules them all: VOICE.

How do you develop your voice? By writing. A lot. By letting go some and having fun on the pages. By being a little playful. By being unafraid to be uniquely you.

Generally, new writers go through several phases:

The first, horrible, awful two to three scripts: You have read all the books, taken all the classes and your writing is pedantic, tight and unoriginal. You get shut down immediately when you try to query or enter a competition. People smile thinly at you and encourage you to "keep trying!"

The mediocre three to four scripts after that: You don't have to refer to your Trottier book 18 times a day anymore to check on how to deal with structure. But your premises are not unique or entertaining. Your scripts are o-k-a-y but dull. You get shut down wherever you query. Your writing group encourages you but nobody really believes you have that "it" factor. You're a statistic: one of millions of aspiring screenwriters all over the world trying to break in and failing.

The mediocre and derivative couple of scripts after that: Now you're getting mad. What the hell?! Why is this not coming together?! You get shut down again. But you aren't quitting. WHERE is the golden premise that will enable you to write a great script? You've learned all there is to learn (you think), you write every day, your pages are pretty good but success still eludes you.

Then it happens. You say okay you know what? Screw it. I'm going to write this crazy story and I don't care what anyone says. I'm sick of this shit. I LOVE this story and I'm going to go nuts on it and my skill set is high but my temper is higher and I'm having fun on these pages. And that, Wavers, is the script that will break you into Hollywood.

But here's the rub: You CANNOT fast forward and write that great break-in script without going through writing several bad scripts first. It doesn't happen. Because you have to get good and frustrated first. And you HAVE to learn all that screenwriting craft stuff first. Oh, there are many who bleat - But what about Diablo Cody! She did it! And so can I! I'm just so talented! I deserve this! I need the money! I want the fame! Do not listen to the siren call of the Entitled Diva. It will dash you against the rocks.

You can't go around it, you can't go over it, you have to learn this lesson through experience.

So this script was kinda crappy. Fine. Start over and write another one. So that one was derivative and boring. FINE. Start over and write another one. And another. And another. One day you'll get good and mad - and determined - and you'll let loose. And that is the best feeling in the world for me, selfishly, because your script just made me miss my lunch date and three phone calls - and I don't care. Victory on the page!

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Robotard 8000 REVEALED

Well - THAT didn't take long. All is revealed - or is it? Read all HERE. In the meantime I have received an email from the Robotard thanking me for my interest. This intrepid mystery writer or writers has got a Google Alert, it would seem. What a funny little mystery.

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The Robotard 8000

About a week or 10 days ago, I found the Robotard 8000 online. At first, I thought it was a joke. But the reviews of this script are by some pretty well known people. The site streaked around the intertubes with comments like - Have you SEEN this? Is this for real? ROFL what is this??

Is it a hoax? Is it a stunt? Is this by some unknown writer from Nebraska, desperate for attention? And if so - is this a genius move or is it the move of a, well, robotard?

I am told that this script is actually written by an A-lister associated with Will Ferrell. I have also been told this script was written by a collective of A-listers. I don't think anybody knows for sure but I'll tell you this - the script is hilarious. Not the most brilliant script I've ever read but what I like about it is that it is totally in keeping with the title of the script - BALLS OUT. Any script that starts with "fade the f*ck in" has my attention. The script is playful and ridiculous and offensive. And it's a quick, funny read.

Publicity stunt by a collective of A-listers or a hoax, you really should read the script for a sense of what "having fun on the page" looks like. The premise may not be the most original, but it's evident on page one and every page thereafter. The action lines are pithy, yes there are a few typos here and there, but it moves quickly and it's just so entertaining that you can't put it down. I read the first 30 pages while I was supposed to be doing something else. I just couldn't stop.

And that, Wavers, is how you want people to feel about your script. They just can't put it down.

So for a quick, fun, totally offensive read, stop by the Robotard 8000 and check out the script. The loglines on the very last page are the comedy topper of toppers.

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Somebody Got There First

Well. It finally happened. You read the trades and you see it. A script that has sold that is exactly like the script you have been working on for months. Even the title is similar. Sure, sure, some of the details are different but the premise - yeah, that was your premise. And now it's out there and you're done for. Right?

Well, not exactly. Look, this is not a good situation, there's no two ways about it. If someone just SOLD a script that shares the same basic idea as yours, well, that puts you in a pretty disadvantageous position if you are a totally unknown, unrepped writer. Not quite as disadvantageous if you're repped and a known entity. Sometimes movies are released in twos: PAUL BLART and OBSERVE AND REPORT are a recent example. Then of course, ARMAGEDDON and DEEP IMPACT is probably the most famous example.

But there's a big difference between you, Joe Writer from Somewhere, working on a script and Joe Hollywood Writer who just sold a similar script. There's not really going to be an arms race there to get your movie into production as well. So if that is your situation, you're pretty much screwed. And you know what? It happens. And yes, you will cry in your soup for a few days. What an awful feeling. All that hard work for nothing.

But is it for nothing? No. It is not. Complete your script. Make it the best iteration of your take on the premise as possible. Why? Because you now have a great sample. And yes, when and if you get meetings, your script will be compared to the script that was sold - but that's okay. You are aware of that and this is a sample. To not be aware would be the biggest sin, honestly. But you're not going to query using this script. It's going to be in your kit bag as a sample. That's really the only big shift that's going to happen for you. This script is not going to the point of the spear for you. But in the big picture, while that's disappointing - well, let's be honest, it's really a blow - you still have other scripts in your arsenal.

And an arsenal is what you need to have. I know how exciting it feels to finish a script and query with it. But many writers forget that you need to have others that are also in great shape as samples of your writing. Ideally, you should have two or more really great scripts aside from the one you are querying with.

So if you find that a script quite similar to yours is out on the marketplace, just sold or even released in theaters, give yourself a minute to feel the burn of that. It's natural. But do not give up on that script. Focus on your craft and voice and screenwriting skills. Make your script the best mall cop script you personally could write. And then add it to your stack of samples. Then move on to a new script, one that you do trust is totally unique...and start again.

There's no way to prevent this situation from arising. We writers are all out there reading the newspaper and brainstorming and observing life and so it's only a matter of time before someone else has an idea similar to your own. And that writer might execute the script faster, they might be repped or lucky or an alien life form - and they get their script on the market first. So while I hope this never happens to you, if it does, stay calm, hang onto your script and make sure it is a GREAT draft because when you get into a meeting in which a rep is seriously entertaining taking you on, it is still part of your body of work. Not knowing that there is a script or movie like yours already out there - now that would be embarrassing. So do read the trades and stay up on script sales.

Here are some resources for following what's selling:

Done Deal Pro
Tracking B

-and the highly entertaining Script Girl.

So if you have been the victim of Somebody Got There First, breathe it out and do not give up on your script. You need great samples and though the issue was forced, this is a great sample. Never miss an opportunity to learn while you are on this journey. Never write a half-assed script and then let it languish in a drawer. Every script you write is potentially a great sample or, of course, in the best outcome possible, the script that got you repped - or even sold.

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What's New With Josh Zetumer

Good morning, Wavers! And did everybody have a nice weekend? As the deadline approaches for the Silver Screenwriting Competition (May 1, mark it on your calendar!), Margaux Froley thought it would be a great time to get an update with Josh Zetumer. Josh will be dining with the Grand Prize winner this year, in case you forgot. So here's the latest:

***

It's been nearly a year since our last interview with Josh. He's been hard at work finishing DUNE and even had time to do rewrite work on Guy Ritchie's SHERLOCK HOLMES. Suffice it to say, Josh is still a "working screenwriter," and I might even venture to say he's one of those coveted Hollywood A-list writers. Despite his demanding schedule, Josh has agreed to have lunch with the Grand Prize winner of the Silver Screenwriting contest and answer a few questions for you Rouge Wavers.

Josh, last time we spoke you had just gotten the job for DUNE. At the time you mentioned your love of sandworms. After finishing a draft on that project, how do you feel about sandworms now?

Groan.

But really, that sounded like a very tough project to crack. How did adapting DUNE compare to writing something of your own on spec?

For me, this project was infinitely harder than a spec. I get to a point on most projects where I want to quit/have a near-panic attack. I'm beginning to realize, as horrible as that is, it's all part of the creative process. It's like an acid trip; it's fun, but you know that for at least a couple hours you're going to be fearing for your life. On DUNE this was especially intense. The book is amazing, but parts read like physics homework. There's so much terminology, and so much is internal - characters second-guessing each other, trying to gauge situations. The key for me was to keep saying, "What can I do visually to express this idea?" I feel like this is a pretty important question you should be asking yourself on every screenplay. Show not tell.

As to the sandworms, yeah I still love them. What's not to love? I'm just hoping they look cool onscreen.

You mentioned that you did some rewrite work on SHERLOCK HOLMES. How much prior SHERLOCK knowledge did you have going into that? What did you to do prepare for something like that?

I'd been a fan of the stories, but I definitely needed a refresher course. The crazy thing about some of these production rewrites (jobs where you're rewriting the script just before or during filming) is that you usually have a matter of hours, not days, to decide if you're taking the job. Then suddenly you're on the clock, and that can be scary. On SHERLOCK I bought a book of short stories and was literally reading on the plane on the way to meet the producers. Doing research is normally one of my favorite parts of the process, but in this case there just wasn't time. The nice thing was that Robert Downey Jr. had such a clear view of the character, it was easy to dive right in.

Sorry, I have to ask. How was Robert Downey, Jr. to work with?

I know this is the stock answer to the "What was so-and-so like to work with," but in this case it's 100% true: He's incredible. Completely deserving of his celebrity. Hanging out with Robert is kind of like going to the carnival; you just follow him around, trying to write frantically while he drops one crazy/brilliant aphorism after another. The only thing is, he's so charismatic and witty that he kind of turns everyone else into a satellite. You become Downey-adjacent. I think if I hung out with him on a regular basis I would develop serious self-esteem issues. I am not now, nor will I ever be, as cool as Robert Downey, Jr.

You have been steadily getting assignments in Hollywood for a few years now...even with your established track record, how do you feel about getting the next job?

Um...cautiously optimistic? Two years ago I probably would have said "terrified." Like take-a-klonopin-and-go-to-sleep-shivering scared. I think generally my anxiety about work has become more manageable, but it still definitely lingers. You work so hard to get anywhere, and then the moment anything positive happens the first thing you tell yourself is, "This will not last. This is all going to be taken away." It doesn't help when you talk to older screenwriters and all they tell you is, "Enjoy it while you can, kid." Seriously, any writer who's spent more than 10 years in Hollywood turns into the grim f*cking reaper.

How important has your relationship with your representation (agent and manager) been in starting and then maintaining your career?

The most important thing in the world. If I could give only one piece of advice to first-time screenwriters it would be: Don't write a script to sell it, write it to land an agent. Agents and managers read 10 to 15 scripts a weekend, three of them on the treadmill. So write a script that's fun to read, that shows a distinct and confident voice, but don't try to second-guess the marketplace. You can kill yourself following trends and trying to predict what will sell. A lot of people also ask, "Why do you need both an agent and manager?" This may not be true for everyone, but in my experience, having both has been invaluable. A manager can produce, and that can be helpful landing gigs. My first studio job - writing a movie called THE INFILTRATOR for Leonardo Dicaprio - was something my manager was producing. Managers and agents also have incentive to set you up with their director clients, so that can be very helpful as well.

If I were an unrepresented screenwriter with a terrific spec, what do you think my best options would be for launching my career?

First move to Los Angeles. It's hard enough to get anyone to notice you in Hollywood. It's even harder if you're living in Maine. Some people do the query letter thing - sending unsolicited scripts to agents - but I don't know any instances of this actually working (that's not to say it can't happen, it just seems like a longshot). A big part of being a screenwriter is hustling, selling yourself. You need to be very proactive. Enter as many screenwriting contests as you can. Read blogs. Try to meet people who are connected to talent agencies. All it really takes to get the ball rolling is one person who believes in you. This can be an indie producer, a writer who has an agent, etc. In my case it was two guys: a writer named Chris McKenna who gave my spec to his agent, and an assistant named Mark Tuohy who gave the script to his boss, a packaging agent. I went to high school with Chris, and Mark I met through an old girlfriend, so you never know where these connections will come from. It's either that or get creative. Become a valet, find out where Steven Spielberg eats lunch, and leave your spec on the passenger seat. Actually, I'm sure he gets that all the time.

Thank you, Josh. Is - is that a sandworm??

Ha.

All righty, Wavers. Get back to work. And don't forget, May 1st looms, so get those scripts in and you just might be the person asking Josh about life in the fast lane.

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