Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Can Winning a Competition Make a Difference?

Today The Script Department's very own Margaux Froley interviews a development exec about competition winning scripts, the spec market and what you can expect from a meeting. Enjoy.

***

I'm always curious about the perspective of other industry friends, especially those who have come up the demanding ladder of the development world. I recently discussed the current state of the industry with Brian Schornak, VP of Production at Back Lot Pictures. I consider Brian's taste in scripts to be impeccable, meaning he understands a writer's voice and has a terrific ability to help shepherd classy, yet quirky, films. He was involved with the recent successful film, SUNSHINE CLEANING.

For those of you who don't know this fun fact, the script of SUNSHINE CLEANING was discovered in a script contest by the company Brian works for. Brian was also one of the producers who met with the winner of the 2008 Silver Screenwriting Contest, so he's no stranger to seeing screenwriters blossom from contests.


Q: You've seen writers get discovered by contests before, including meeting with last year's Silver Screenwriting Grand Prize winner, Hilary Graham.What common elements are you seeing in the scripts that get plucked from these contests?


Generally, the writer has an interesting, distinctive voice and tells a story that really grabs the reader's attention. Not necessarily the most commercial, sellable story - it's more about establishing the writer as someone to work with and to watch grow. The winning script might turn into a hit spec sale but that's not the be-all and end-all. Some of the specific writing mechanics, like structure, might be imperfect - but those things can always be fixed with development.

Q: So a script wins a contest. Great. Now what? When you meet with the winning writer, what are you expecting them to bring to the table?

I like writers who come equipped with a bunch of ideas - fleshed-out or not - that will give me a sense of the type of screenwriting career that they want to pursue. I also love to talk about movies and get a sense of their general taste. All of this helps me when I'm looking to develop original material or fill writing assignments. Honestly, personality goes a long way, since being "good in a room" is key to landing paying writing jobs. You don't have to be the nicest or funniest person I've ever met, but I take a lot of meetings, so a great conversationalist with intuitive people skills will stick out in my mind long after we've parted ways.

Q: Can a writer really launch a career from a contest?


Absolutely. As a first-hand example, Megan Holley wrote SUNSHINE CLEANING, which was a fantastic script, and submitted it to the Virginia Governor's Screenwriting Competition back in 2003. Our company happened to be involved in the judging process because my boss Glenn Williamson is an alumnus of UVA. She won the competition, we made the movie, and now she's much sought-after all over town. It's been a great experience.

Many other contests - Nicholl in particular, have turned out viable writers, and I think that producers and literary reps alike are looking more closely at contest winners these days. The town is very competitive in terms of finding the next hot writer and the competitions are a great sorting mechanism.

Q: Among the "industry" crowd, how quickly do prize-winning writers get noticed? More by managers than agents?


It depends on the size and reputability of the contest, but in some cases there's a mad dash to obtain and read the winning scripts. Managers might be more inclined to sign writers who have a lot of potential but need some development, whereas agents are more likely to come aboard once a sale seems possible. But that's not always true.

Q: How does building and maintaining a relationship with a production company help a new writer with his/her career?

Writers are always welcome to check in periodically with the execs they had good meetings with (sometimes you just don't feel much of a connection, and that's okay, there are plenty of places to do business). Execs are always putting together lists of projects for paid writing assignments and for internal development projects, so it's good to maintain visibility.

Q: What's the spec market like right now?

The spec market waxes and wanes. Right now it's waning, as for economic reasons studios are cutting back on their development and production slates, so there's less incentive to buy new projects. As a result, production companies are more likely to package scripts with a director or a star before going out to buyers. The movie business, although largely tied to corporate conglomerates, does seem to be fairly recession-proof thus far, so I imagine and hope there will be more activity in the near future.

Brian has also already volunteered to again meet with this year's Grand Prize winner of the Silver Screenwriting Competition. He could be discussing your script with you by October! Hmm...what to wear? Click here to SUBMIT. Deadline: May 1st.

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

Monday, March 30, 2009

Networking in Los Angeles

Good morning, Wavers! A Rouge Waver (we'll call him Pete) wrote in and asked, having just moved to Los Angeles, how on earth to meet other screenwriters and get that networking and socializing started from the ground up.

One can't exactly walk into a cafe frequented by writers and stare meaningfully at those writers and make small clicking noises until they look up, catch your gaze and become your new best friend, mentor and super-connection. Well I mean, one could do that but then you'd wind up like my friend Bob, who got a restraining order and permanent ban from the cafe.

First of all, Pete, moving to Los Angeles to further your screenwriting career was a very smart move. So congratulations on your ability to make that happen. There's no silver bullet, of course, you are going to have to be very proactive if you want to meet and get to know other screenwriters and industry types. But here are some resources that might be helpful:

Find your local LA screenwriting Meetup Group.

Check out special screenings and events sponsored by the American Cinemateque.

Contact Marc Zicree's Super Mentor Group for classes and/or admission to Marc's renowned networking group, The Table, which meets each Thursday evening in Toluca Lake.

Check out the UCLA Extension Writers' Program. They have great classes, some of which might be right up your alley - a two day weekend intensive. Classes are always a great way to meet other writers.

The Script Department will be offering weekend classes in the next few weeks and months so stay tuned in to the Rouge Wave for those announcements - but in the interim, there are two back-to-back table reads coming up, April 1st and April 8th at the Attic Theater at 7:30pm.

And this last tip comes with a caveat. The Done Deal Message Board, largely populated by temperamental blow-hards but sometimes frequented by actual nice, intelligent people, does have members who live in the Los Angeles area so you might want to gingerly check there. Again, a caveat: Message boards are generally replete with Anonymous Hostility and Heartfelt Disinformation so go to there with great caution.

So there you go, Pete, that's about as much as I can tell you. Give it some time, put yourself out there, take some weekend classes and read the LA Weekly for events and screenings to attend.

If any Angeleno Wavers have other or more suggestions, please leave them in the comments section.

Good luck, Pete. And welcome to LA. If I find you making small clicking noises at a cafe I'm going to have to intervene. Just FYI.


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

Friday, March 27, 2009

Quitting When You're Ahead

Sorry Wavers, but you are weird. So am I. Creatives are just strange. The way we think, our emotionality, the way we are always observing other people. The way we are always thinking about our writing and our stories. You gotta have some empathy for our family and friends who don't get it. I mean, seriously, we must be tough to be around sometimes.

One of the weirdest things about us is how our brains work when we are in the zone. I've been working almost every single afternoon lately with my raconteur, Mr. Perri, on figuring out the loglines for several script ideas and the beats for a particular script. Particularly when you are brainstorming with another person, you notice the way the creative energy ebbs and flows. I've noticed, for Perri and me, that we can brainstorm for about three hours before suddenly, the creative plug gets pulled. The room feels too hot. Our conversation slows. We get stuck on one particular point. We start circling and circling the same point. We can't bust out. We suddenly feel overwhelmed and...tired of thinking. Which is when we pull the plug for that day. Enough. We look at what we DID accomplish and we call it a day. I am of the opinion and the experience that you just can't push it.

So what do we do? We have to make regular writing/brainstorming/outlining time in our day to day, we know that, right? But we also have to know when it's enough for that day. Because pushing it beyond the limits of having fun kills creativity. You'll start to generate bad ideas, you'll start to mess up what you had done with your story.

So make sure you quit when you're ahead, Wavers. For whatever reason, Creativity Fatigue kicks in at some point and you have to recognize it and be okay with walking away from it for that day. I'm always talking about balance in our lives, right? You don't have to crack your story or an aspect of it on a particular day. Don't forget that as much as we need Behind in the Chair time, we also need Subconscious Mulling Time.

Most of us creatives - and I include musicians, poets, writers and artists in that - get ideas and breakthroughs and inspirations when we aren't even trying. We have to be still to let it in sometimes.

Flannery O'Connor, who wrote my absolute, hands-down favorite short story of all time "Revelation" (seriously, please check it out) once said, and I am paraphrasing, that every day she'd put a blank piece of paper in her typewriter and just sit for four hours. That way if a good idea did come, she wouldn't miss it. Flannery did pretty well with that methodology.

So that's the Behind-in-Chair discipline, which is SO important. But we also need to honor the Wait-and-it-Will-Come method. Our brains are so endlessly complex and fascinating. Malcolm Gladwell's book Blink is a great read if you are interested in the topic. In fact, the rest of the title of that book is "The Power of Thinking Without Thinking."

So if you're writing and you suddenly feel the walls closing in, if your ideas are drying up, if you're not having fun anymore - walk away. Go do something else. Just put your behind in that chair again tomorrow and trust that in between, your brain really is still working out the problem. It will save you the awful feeling of Creative Fatigue, it could save your script from some really bad decisions and hey - how many other people in life get to walk away from the work and know the brain will still figure it out? It's pretty cool.


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

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Theme Schmeme

So a group of Rouge Wavers who are students at the UCLA screenwriting program collectively wrote in and asked me to address the topic of theme.

But listen. Theme is for suckers. Don't worry about it and don't bother. Your story just does not need to have a subtextual or deeper meaning beyond what is going on in the plot. Audiences don't care to be touched or moved in a deeper way than right on the surface. They don't pay to see a movie in order to then have to think, feel and experience the story in a primal way. And they certainly get plenty of satisfaction with themes like "love conquers all" - I mean, that's really engaging stuff for anybody. And if your "theme" - should you choose to be all namby-pamby and have one - is something like "blood is thicker than water" or "you have to earn trust" or "being responsible is a good way to live" I guarantee you that whoever reads your script is going to just really, really connect with that message. It will be so different from any other script they've ever read because the specificity of that - I mean, "responsibility" as a concept, that's just so... maaaan that's just not been done before. No sirree. Rest assured.

So if you feel overwhelmed by the concept of theme, you're just wasting your time, man. It ain't no thang. Just dance your interesting characters through a story for the sake of it and don't worry about what the story means, at the end of the day. Don't worry about giving audiences something to mull over or discuss or have a revelation about. Theme is only for babies who want more out of a movie than fleeting entertainment. It's for people who want their entertainment to be "meaningful" and speak to "humanity" with "universal themes." Can you believe these jokers? Unreal. You'd think that for 12 to 14 bucks a pop, they'd be happy just to sit there and watch whatever is on the screen - a bunch of moving images and plot and explosions. C'mon.

Theme is what intellectual, sensitive writers with no clue sit around and freak out about. What is this story really about? What is WALL-E really about? Oh come on, it's easy, Wall-E is about a lonely robot. Period. That's why it did so well. And THE DARK KNIGHT is just about how Batman battles with crime and the Joker. And the Joker is just the Joker and seriously - why does everything have to mean more than that? NETWORK? Um, angry anchorman goes nuts. JAWS? Battling a big shark. STAR WARS? AMERICAN BEAUTY? LETHAL WEAPON? There are no themes there! That's just good story telling. There is nothing more to observe or discuss when the movie is over. Am I right? I don't know what this world is coming to sometimes.

Oh and get this - there is this crazy cabal of writers, dramatists and teachers who think that "theme" should be present in every character, on every page and in every set piece of your script. So that if your "theme" is related, say, to an entertaining question and therefore is something ridiculous like "what makes us human?" then your script is really like a conversation about that. So then every set piece should have "what is it to be human" in the set piece some way somehow.

So if you actually followed this crazy idea of layering universal theme into your story, you'd actually then have to know what your theme is, know that it is the root of your story and know that the plot just services exploring that theme. Crazy. Total pain in the behind.

So as one example, say you were making a decision about what job your main character had, in a story with this "what it means to be human" theme - so you'd probably want to then make your main character's job dressing mannequins or painting portraits or teaching history - see how each of those could fall into the theme of what it means to be human? So all of your story decisions and details would all be under the umbrella of the theme. Some total nut jobs even name their characters in ways that allude to the theme.

Writers who identify and articulate a complex and yet universal theme, who really know, foundationally, why they wanted to tell this story, they weave that theme into every single page. The theme is a conversation between every character and situation in your script and the audience. Are man-friends important? Why is so hard for men to have emotionally intimate relationships with other men? Do buddy/friendships come between a new couple? So every conversation, every detail, every character and character's job and ancillary characters - everything drops into the funnel of what the theme is. In different permutations. What is your theme? If it's a sappy Hallmark card generalism that's okay. Just dig deeper. Try harder. Get to the slightly more specific, interesting part. Write that theme down on a post-it. Stick it on your computer. And explore that theme in every way possible in your script. The theme is the North Star and the script is a ship sailing under its guidance.

What a buncha hokum, huh? Theme schmeme - who needs it? Theme is for eggheads and intellectuals. Theme is too hard for you to figure out. Theme is something you need to buy 12 screenwriting books to understand.

Phooey. Theme is the fundamental topic of your story. It's what drew you to wanting to write the story in the first place. It's not the purview of intellectuals, it's not rocket science, it's what your script is actually about. You just need to work out what your theme is and articulate it and then every page, every scene, every bit of dialogue you write ask yourself, is the theme present on this page, like invisible ink?

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

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Office Space

Sorry for my absence yesterday, Wavers. Remember a week or three ago, I wrote about writing in cafes and the need to get out of the house? Well, yesterday I moved into my very own office! Actually, it's better than my very own; it adjoins the sunny and spacious office of my friend and creative partner - not to mention wildly funny raconteur and new media producer - Michael Perri.

Working at home has been a privilege and a convenience but my business(es) have outgrown that setup, and we had to get something more official. The best part is that my office is on a working studio lot! I say working as a descriptor because it's on one of the oldest lots in Hollywood and has a historic site status. The studio opened in 1920 as Hampton Studios and was later the site of United Artists, with Douglass Fairbanks, Mary Pickford and Charlie Chaplin as its principals. Howard Hughes had an office there when RKO rented space there. Currently, True Blood is shot there and Allan Ball's offices are there as well as Sacha Baron Cohen's, Fuse Entertainment's, Egg Pictures', Heroes and Villains' and many, many more.

The funny thing is that while it is indeed a mini-studio lot (I think there are about five sound stages) similar in size to Prospect Studios, it really is pretty old and funky. There are about three large bungalows with office space rented out to some of the tenants I mentioned and many, many more. But I have also seen an acupuncturist's office and a photographer and several post-production companies. Apparently you don't want your office next to one of those - it's loud. The Lot is pet friendly; I have seen a few canines wandering the halls. The commissary is gorgeous and probably a little expensive judging by the look of the food there.

So yesterday I moved in and today I move in more. Of course, you have to make your office fun, right? It has to look like an entertainment office! Turns out I have plenty of cool and comfy furniture to go in it, and my partner Margaux is donating her Italian language TO CATCH A THIEF poster. The Script Department definitely took up some square footage in my life and now, car-load by car-load, that will be moved over to the Lot. Mike and I work together almost every afternoon on our creative pursuits, so now we'll just open the door, create the suite and get to work. In fact, we've been doing quite a bit of brainstorming the past few weeks and have quickly used up every single white board in his office - so much so that we can't even clean them off well anymore. We're told you can get white board material at home improvement stores and buy it by the foot. We'll probably wind up doing that. Or, I'd love one of those giant chalkboards like at school that flip - there's two sides and they are freestanding. If anybody knows where I can get one of those, I'd love it.

So that's the news of the week, Wavers. I shall be back with some really great interviews coming up on The Rouge Wave, some golden oldies and some fresh new thoughts for your reading/learning and procrastinating pleasure.

Say - is anyone writing this week? Can we all check in on that? What is everybody up to?

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

Monday, March 23, 2009

What Reality TV Can Teach Us

So American Idol, the pop culture phenomenon, has been on television for how long now? I have no idea because I'd never seen even one episode. Shocking, right? I've been a real Luddite. Until this season. (No offense, Luds).

I don't know what made me do it. Curiosity? Luddite shame? Whatever the reason, I got hooked. And my embarrassment over that is matched only by my frustration because apparently everyone else is over it so I have nobody to commiserate with.

So - setting aside the uncomfortable feeling of getting hooked on a reality tv show judged by a singer/choreographer from the 80s who appears to be on painkillers, a constipated Brit with serious emotional issues, some new girl I do not recognize in any context and a black guy who used to be in Journey (is that right?) and who uses the word dog - or is it "dawg" so much that if I were King Herod I would have cut off his tongue by now - so setting that all aside, I have found some interesting parallels between American Idol and aspiring screenwriters.

The very early, cattle call rounds of American Idol, the ones that take place in cities all over the US, are the most obvious, painful comparison to aspiring screenwriters. Literally thousands of singers line up to audition. Thousands. I was amazed at how many people are just SURE they can sing - when they cannot. They get up there at that audition and they just sing their hearts out because they love it and they feel it and they want it but oh lord. Just oh lord. Not so much. Why, I thought to myself, does everybody think they can sing well enough to be a paid performer just because they love doing it? Why are Americans so deluded and entitled? I love singing. I sing fairly well. But not anywhere close by a country mile to the way I'd have to in order to make that a career. I also love sailboats. But I am not a sailor. People get into tragic accidents when they think they can do something that they really cannot. My uncle Malcolm enjoyed wine, thought he was a vintner and a tragic occurrence at the Owl Creek wine press came to pass.

How often have you heard people say - I love to write. I'd love to be a writer. I'm gonna write a novel one day. People love my writing. Whoops, there it goes again - entitlement and a disrespect for the craft of writing. I think that's what gets me. As if writing is just easy. You just write down words. As if singing is easy, you just sing stuff. As if making wine is easy, you just smash stuff.

Rest in peace, uncle Malcolm. But I digress.

A few episodes of American Idol later, after the absolute jokers have been weeded out, we get to the singers who can actually sing but they begin to be tested by stress and demands. Yes they can sing but can they sing country music? Or a Michael Jackson cover? What kind of range do they have? Can they perform on stage? Do they have an identifiable persona (in writing world: voice). And now we begin to weed out even more contestants. And then things just begin to get completely subjective. Is the hippy-baby-mama contestant with the long blonde hair and the full sleeve tattoo cute and inspiring - or annoying? Is the emo kid with the eyeliner fresh and relevant or a good singer leaning on a tired shtick?

So we return to writers. And you know, Wavers, I have a unique bird's eye view of this, being that my business is patronized by a very wide range of writers - everyone from the complete beginners to the repped and solds. Over the past few years, I have noticed definite types and trends when it comes to completely new, beginner writers. I see realism, humility and maturity - but more often, I see a complete disconnect between the reality and the dream. Bad, derivative ideas wrapped up in hubris and laziness. Get rich quick types, in other words, who figure because they liked HELLBOY or LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE, they will just play a little Hollywood Powerball and get rich quick.

But just like American Idol, the writers who can't really write get sorted out rather quickly and rather brutally. I would say the average aspiring screenwriter goes about two years before he or she runs out of enthusiasm for screenwriting. After hundreds of dollars spent on software and books, after countless late night hours spent arguing on bitter, blind-leading-the-blind screenwriting message boards about whether an agent or manager is better or why this or that spec sold when THEIR spec is so much more brilliant, after three half-finished scripts, a pilot and 28 unanswered queries, they realize they just don't have the patience - or the talent - for it.

Because they got caught up in the entitled, Powerball thinking. Buy the software, buy all the books, eat, think, dream and love movies, and you will make tons of money in a couple or three years. No such, Wavers. Just no such. You need talent. And there's no way to candy-coat that fact.

It's not a sprint, it's a marathon. And absolutely not everybody trying to write and sell a script is going to actually make it. In fact, over 90% of you will never be repped or sold. Does that fact make you want to quit? Then you should quit. But what if you do have the patience? What if you are that person in line for an American Idol try-out in Baton Rouge or some far-flung place but what if you actually can chug along through every single challenge and what if you DO have a voice and a story to tell that America will love? That's the allure, isn't it? What if?

If you really do think so - slow it down a little. You don't have to buy every single book on the topic. Just a few select books will do. What you really must be doing is writing every day. And - and nobody wants to hear this one for some reason - you need to read. A lot. And no, I don't mean other scripts. That's a given - I mean, you need to be reading books (fiction and non-, new and old), the newspaper and periodicals. You need to be reading not only news but editorial content. You need to be reading good writing. What on earth does that have to do with screenwriting?

Look, for once and for all, screenwriting does not exist in a bubble. Screenwriting is only ONE kind of writing. If you don't spend time reading and appreciating - much less writing - other forms, you will be a 90-pound weakling out here in Hollywood. I cannot tell you how different the reality has been for me in the way Hollywood "types" are perceived and how they really are. To a one, every agent, manager and development exec I have ever met or talked to (and I will also include every writer I know who has either made it or is on the cusp of making it) is intelligent, articulate, omniverously curious and very, very well read. Are you?

My daughter enjoys watching America's Next Top Model and of course, when you have any excuse to spend time with your teenager, you do it because god knows when that door will be open again - so I watch it with her. And we have noticed a trend - in the early rounds, the girls who are very pretty in an obvious, easy way are always over-confident and they never make it far. Because they're pretty, they don't have to work all that hard. And they are consistently found bingeing on a big slice of humble pie.

Why do we Americans increasingly think that things should come to us easily? Why do we think that we can obtain talent in the same way we obtained our Pottery Barn leather furniture and credit card debt? Not everyone can do everything well. Writing might be your passion - but it might not be your true talent. I love to sing; it makes me happy. But I don't put myself on the same planet as those who do it for money.

So where do you fall in the scheme of things, Wavers? So you think you can write, huh? But can you? Can you really? Do you have what it takes to be on top? Can you handle the long journey? Can you adapt? Can you handle brutal rejection? Can you write more than one type of thing? Can you read, synthesize and discuss current thought, literature, history and opinion? In other words, do you see yourself as part of a tradition of writing or as a standout exception - the one thoroughbred on the track who is going to break all the rules, run one lap and win the roses with very little effort? Nobody would ever admit to harboring that delusion and yet many do.

Now get back to work.

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

Friday, March 20, 2009

Industry News Update

All righty, Wavers. I've removed the voting for the short scenes as it had petered out in a cloud of our-voting-system-sucks. Congratulations to Emily, who truly did write a very worthy short scene. I will find a better way to sort out the voting in the future.

Moving on. Here is some industry news updates for this week ending March 20th, 2009:

In Development

Blacklight
Feature
Fox Atomic, Zombie Studios, Union Entertainment
P: Richard Leibowitz
W: Jason Dean Hall
Sci-fi actioner set 25 years in the future, about an elite covert ops team sent after a rogue American CIA colonel. Project will be developed simultaneously as a feature film, video game and comic book.

Wouldn’t It Be Nice
Feature
Walt Disney Pictures, Gunn Films
P: Andrew Gunn
W: Barry Blaustein, Jason Hefter
Family comedy in which a teenage couple planning to run away together is magically transported 20 years into the future, only to discover that their lives did not exactly turn out as envisioned.

Doing Da Vinci
TV pilot; ordered to series
Discovery Channel, Pilgrim Films & TV
EP: Craig Piligian, Rob Katz, Tim Pastore
Reality show in which teams try to rebuild Leonardo da Vinci's inventions using materials from that time period.

A Ribbon of Dreams
Miniseries
HBO, Chase Films
EP: David Chase, Brad Grey
W: David Chase
Epic miniseries following two disparate men who team up to help pioneer the burgeoning movie industry through the early 20th century.

Hot Properties

The Untold Story of the World's Biggest Diamond Heist
Feature
Paramount Pictures, Bad Robot, Circle of Confusion
Based on the article "The Untold Story of the World's Biggest Diamond Heist" written by Joshua Davis and published in the April 2009 issue of Wired. J.J. Abrams produces.

This Week in Production

Howl
start - 3/16/2009
James Franco and David Strathairn star in the story of the 1957 obscenity trial launched to censor Allen Ginsberg's "Howl," the groundbreaking poem of the Beat Generation.

You May Not Kiss the Bride
start- 3/16/2009 Romantic comedy starring Katharine McPhee and Mena Suvari about a pet photographer who gets mixed up with a foreign mobster and his daughter in need of American citizenship.

Unstable
wrap - 3/14/2009
Lifetime TV movie about a woman who questions her sanity when strange events occur, after meeting her soulmate. Shiri Appleby stars.

U.S. Attorney
start - 3/18/09
CBS legal drama pilot set among the federal prosecutors in Manhattan's U.S. Attorney's office. Jason Clarke and Melissa George to star.

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

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Talkin' Bout Your Competition

So yesterday I had a meeting with a client, let's call him, I don't know - Robert - to go over three scripts and to review his overall trajectory and game plan as a writer. He is 20 years old. He is crazy talented. He is focused as hell and he is your competition. In other words, Wavers - I have seen your enemy and his name is Ambition.

First scary fact about "Robert:" he has innate talent. I have read two feature scripts of his in the past few months and while they had room for improvement, the general level of execution was quite high. I asked him how many scripts he'd completed. Just those two and a tv pilot (which I also read and which I think is not far from being presentable to a rep). My jaw dropped. He can write like this after only two scripts?

But it gets better. We talk about branding oneself and what other ideas Robert has. He opened his laptop and showed me an excel spreadsheet. Filled out, top to bottom with ideas, by genre and with status update columns next to each. And here's the thing - several of those ideas were great. High concept, unique, fleshed out and - well - they sounded like movies.

I snapped the laptop shut and asked Robert to be very careful who he shares those ideas with. In fact, I counseled him, these ideas are valuable, please don't share them blithely with anyone unless you are in a meeting with a somebody who is speaking seriously with you about working with you as your rep.

I asked Robert if he is willing to move to LA (he's currently visiting from the East Coast). Yes, he is. He realizes he needs to be here in order to network, rub elbows and learn more about the business. How often do you write? Every day. How long have you been writing in one form or another? My whole life. How long does it take you to write a script? Two or three months. What about this particular idea? I have a treatment written.

We made a list of the top five projects Robert is most passionate about and that are the most realized and that serve to "brand" him as a writer. Robert will continue to add to and update his idea list but he's organizing that list by commercial potential versus very indie, and by genre and status. So that the newest idea he just had goes way on the bottom; it's not developed yet.

Look, 20 is very young. Robert has a lot of life to live and a lot of emotional depth and understanding to add to his skillset as writer and as a human being. Naturally. It's one of the glorious upsides to aging, isn't it? The marinating that results in wisdom, patience, empathy and humility? But sometimes I think that's what we older writers say to comfort ourselves when we see the 20-year-olds nipping at our heels with an iPhone in one hand and a soy latte in the other. What does that kid know about life? He knows what he wants and he knows what he's going to do to go get it. And he doesn't have a mortgage or two kids or a career. Hollywood is indeed a very young industry. To say otherwise would be to lie to your faces, Wavers.

It's a bitter pill, Wavers, but Robert is your competition. He's young, he's focused, he's talented, he's ambitious as hell and he's investing in his writing career now. One of the things that impressed me the most (beyond the undeniable natural talent) is that Robert is shrewd enough to seek a mentor, which is what our meeting yesterday was all about. He knows what he doesn't know and he sought trusted guidance.

So what are you gonna do about that, Wavers? Where's your slate of ideas? Do you write every day? Do you network? Do you seek learning opportunities and guidance? How seriously are you taking this screenwriting thing?

You know by now that I have firmly planted in the ground here at TRW and in my life that writing should be playful, joyous and fun. That said, if you really, seriously want to compete in Hollywood, you have to do the work and you have to compete with people like Robert because for every 100 screenwriting aspirants who try it but give up a couple of years later when they quail at the negativity and rejection, or the dilettantes who try it because it sounds glamorous but don't have the chops or the focus, there are 10 or 15 Roberts who do have the chops, who do have the focus and who also have the advantage of youth and the time to spend writing. That's the only competition that matters. The snarky masses on the message boards don't matter -they're not going anywhere. But Robert is.

I don't mean to be negative this morning - far from it - I mean to inspire you, Wavers, to take your competition seriously and to be inspired by it.

You know, about two years ago, the director of a very large script coverage company here in LA, upon learning that I had started my own company, sniffed haughtily - well, I don't consider you competition, Julie, so good luck. That was all she had to say. It has fueled me ever since to overtake her company and while I can't share confidential information, if I were her, I'd be looking in the rear view mirror about now. Objects are closer than they appear.

So here's to you, kid. Because I love that Robert is determined and talented. And I love that he can inspire us all to work a little harder and reach a little further. And because his success is our success because he shows us what ambition and focus looks like.

Now get back to work.



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

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

St. Paddy's Short Scene Competition

Well, Wavers, we did indeed have an unintended situation arise on TRW that led to one entry being voted for aggressively and the others not so much. And it would appear as if now Wavers have lost interest since the vote is so lopsided.

I'm bummed - this is not how this is supposed to work. I have spoken to the writer of Silver Nickels, who sincerely regrets informing her extended group of supportive peers. She meant no harm or foul play, but nonetheless, the outcome was the same... a lopsided vote, which discouraged all voters.

For this time, nobody is disqualified, but no prizes will be awarded, either. Please, please vote for your favorite - I'd like to see your support even if you don't think your choice stands a chance - just show your support with your vote. I'm sure the other two writers would appreciate it.

I welcome any and all suggestions to prevent this from happening in the future. This type of thing endangers these competitions, clearly. Save The Rouge Wave Short Scene Competitions!


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

Why Location Matters


On every coverage report, there's a spot for the reader to fill in called "location." Location means different things to different people. To a producer, it means dollar signs. If "location" says Venice, Italy, I just got queasy. But - maybe the coverage has a "recommend" to offset a location that instantly skyrocketed the costs of this film. Unless - gee, can I find a way to shoot this somewhere else? Somewhere with canals and...That's not gonna be easy. How many exteriors does this script have? A lot. Damn it.

Sometimes writers don't really indicate the location where their story takes place. I have filled in the "location" part with things like "rural US town" or "generic US suburb" many a time. Sometimes the "location" might say Europe, Asia, Africa - because the script was some kind of roving BOURNE IDENTITY type of script.

So the question is: How specific should you be about your story's location? Well, first of all, I wouldn't worry about the budget for now. You are a storyteller and you should just tell the best story you can. If the location has to be changed in pre-production, hey, that's not a bad problem to have. But when you are envisioning your story, just set it where you want to set it.

Why do so many writers of romcoms wind up choosing New York? I think that shows an imaginative laziness, personally. I mean, New York is great - there are a lot of sights and sounds and potential set pieces in a city like that. But what about Madison, Wisconsin - wouldn't that put a whole different spin on who the main characters are, who their friends are and what their lifestyles are like? It's Wisconsin. Things have to be somewhat different. Is there a Cheese Parade you can use as a set piece?

When you think about location start from the macro - is this story a rural or urban one? - and then work your way down to details - what is the landscape, geography and culture like in one place compared to another? Do you follow? A story set in Atlanta, Georgia is going to have a different vibe than a story set in Phoenix, Arizona. Rural Connecticut versus rural Northern California. Different accents, flora and fauna, weather, traditions and observances - all of these things will lend a specificity to your characters and to your story.

Can you be too specific? What if you say okay this scene is set in Smitty's Coffee Shop - or, oh, better example, I was just at the Formosa Cafe last night, where a scene from LA CONFIDENTIAL was shot. Why shoot there, specifically? Well, it's in LA so that makes a location shoot pretty easy. Was it important to get right the specifics of this historic, Golden Age of Hollywood cafe or could the set have been built? It could have been built, but it was probably way cheaper to shoot there in the cafe for one day. And the bonus there was that this cafe really is historic and really did have meaning and backstory for the scene shot there. But a viewer would not know the difference. So it's about economics. Say you've got a scene set at Madison Square Garden - oh god, now we have to get permissions and insurance and oy vey is that going to be difficult. But in development, another way might be found. A smaller venue, a set, maybe CG effects. So can you be too specific? Yes and no. If your script is just so terrific in every way - your characters are unforgettable, your story is totally unique, the writing is just superlative - and you have a scene set in the United Nations or Bernie Madoff's old offices or the Pope's coffee lounge - well, that problem will get worked out. Right? Right.

My writing partner and I set our thriller in Seattle. I made that decision early on when I came up with the idea. Why? Well, I know Seattle relatively well; I have family there and I have visited a number of times. So I get the way it's laid out, I have a sense of the local culture, and I liked the fact that Seattle is very verdant and rainy. It's not gloomy there, exactly, because there are so many beautiful gardens (Seattlites love to garden, apparently). But what's interesting is that because the rain comes and goes in Seattle with frequency, a sunny, cheerful day can turn dark very quickly and suddenly the city is transformed. I liked that. And Seattle is surrounded by water. Puget Sound, Lake Union, Lake Washington...I just felt immediately drawn to this place for a creepy thriller. But further, my partner and I said okay well which neighborhood is this set in? We choose a particular part of Seattle that is near a lake and a neighborhood that a person like our main character would like - an affordable yet charming family neighborhood with views of downtown Seattle. So we got pretty specific.

But when I say specific, I don't mean tediously so. To read the script, you can see it's Seattle and you can see what the views and surrounds are as you read along, but unless you KNOW the city very well, the street names wouldn't mean much to you. We didn't overdirect or over-download that information - it's not important - the story is. It's more that iceberg thing - we know that that particular street is one block from Greenlake. So we know our set piece will work when the car goes flying into the lake.

Sometimes the location is more powerful when it is emblematic and generic. A small, rural US town can be Anytown, USA. Many movies can be set in generic-urban-anytown: Chicago, San Francisco, New York, Philly, DC...If the story feeds off of a certain sense of discombobulation vis a vis location - go for it.

Just make sure you aren't missing an opportunity for specificity, particularity, local color, customs and general vibe. When you think about locations, think carefully and have fun. If you are choosing a location that you know nothing about - get on the interwebs and do some research. Do NOT use Philadelphia, as one example, and get the streets and sights wrong. That would be really, really lame. Because somebody is going to read that script and know Philly and you are going to look lazy and foolish.

So today look at your script and ask why you chose to set it where you did. Are you fully exploiting that location for everything it can offer like local customs, seasons, accents, foods and sights? Is your character from there or a transplant? Have you been too specific with your location, using street names or business names that are too "insidey?" Have you been accurate? If those steps Rocky ran up in Philly lead to a Best Buy and not the art museum, you're going to look like a fool of gigantic proportions. Get it right. Unless you're writing a parody. Rocky running up steps that lead to a Best Buy is actually hilarious! But I digress.

Make a conscious decision; don't wimp out or be lazy and use Anytown unless you have a thematic, emblematic, powerful reason for doing so.

Think about light, color and the vibe of particular places: San Francisco (foggy, shifting clouds, the glittering bay); Arlington, VA (so green, very stately, a little humid, views of DC); Cleveland (a little sad and broke down, on the shores of a churning, grey Great Lake); Phoenix (flat, hot, a little bleak); Des Moines (friendly, flat, cornfields, quiet); Memphis (humid, a little sad and broke down, very green, very southern); Minneapolis (urban, tree-lined, hip yet normal).

Each of those mini-descriptions were subjective, weren't they? So that's the fun part. If you want to set a noir thriller in Phoenix, for my money that's a great choice. Because I find the desert bleak. But maybe you don't. How do you know I've set foot in any of the places I just listed? Have I? You don't know. Maybe I just watch a lot of TV and read a lot of books and I made all of those descriptions up. Actually I have been every city I just listed except two. Can you tell which ones I used what I think I know or read about that place? It's fun being a writer, right? So don't let not having been to a place stop you.

Location is one of the funnest paintbrushes in your toolbox. Enjoy that. Do your research, get the details right and explore and exploit the details of the place you have chosen.

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

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

The Kid Stays in the Picture


I don't think I had this documentary about Robert Evans on my GASP list - it doesn't fit the criteria - but it was on my personal list. The one I keep in a tiny notebook and carry with me everywhere I go. How I missed this documentary, I do not know. But. I watched it yesterday evening and was absolutely engrossed.

For those of you who don't know, Robert Evans is the former head of Paramount Pictures and the legendary producer of LOVE STORY, ROSEMARY'S BABY, HAROLD AND MAUDE, CHINATOWN, THE GODFATHER (1 and 2), MARATHON MAN, THE COTTON CLUB and more. He and Ali McGraw were a power couple for a time after LOVE STORY (good movie but terribly, terribly dated, I'm afraid).

Evans was discovered by the side of the pool at the Beverly Hills Hotel by Norma Shearer, of all people, and two hours later, he was auditioning for a part on the Universal lot opposite Jimmy Cagney. Talk about being at the right place at the right time. So much of Evans' story is about being in the right (and sometimes wrong) place at the right time. His story is one of risk-taking and bravado. Again and again he mentions relationships and friendships that came back to save him in moments of change. He was given a helping hand on many an occasion - sometimes just because someone met and liked him - that was enough to get Peter Bart to write the article about Robert Evans that led to his eventual installment at Paramount.

I was struck again and again in the movie by the rise and fall of those in the business. The "I knew-you-when" part of it. Who KNEW that Peter Bart would go from being a journalist for the New York Times to a producer at Paramount, president of Lorimar Films and then editor of Variety? Who knew that Evans would go from a B-list character actor to the legendary producer he did? Who do you know right now toiling away on this or that project who might be a person of significant creative and business importance in 10 years? That person might be YOU or it might be someone you know. You might be one of a graduating class of colleagues and peers who are very serious about this silly business called show.

Are you taking every opportunity to meet other writers and entertainment professionals (or aspirants)? Do you pay it forward and read scripts, give feedback, attend performances and be there for your peers and colleagues? That's the kind of stuff people never forget.

Why, just yesterday I got an email from a producer at a reputable company; she's looking for thrillers in the 25M range. We used to work for the same company about three years ago and we used to chat now and again about costume design (which was her passion at that time). Fast forward: She's an exec, we made a friendly bond and now there is an opening for me (or actually, one of my clients - my thriller's all tied up). You never know where friendships and relationships might take you in the future. Someone you chat with once in awhile might remember you down the line and might open doors.

Is there a direct correlation between Bob Evans and you, dear Waver living in Vancouver or Houston or Maryland? Well - we can't stretch this lesson too far - and yet you can take inspiration from his story. He was at the right place at the right time. It is Evans' most pivotal moment that defined his style ever afterward:

He was playing a bull fighter in THE SUN ALSO RISES. Hemingway, Ava Gardner and Tyrone Power had all written and signed a letter to producer Darryl Zanuck asking for Evans to be removed from the movie and Evans knew it. The bullfighting scene was being shot, Zanuck was there watching it and Evans said to himself BLEEP it - and he gave it all he had. Zanuck stood up and said "The kid stays in the picture. And anyone who doesn't like it can quit."*

Let's rewind the tape a moment: Evans is out there, in the ring, knowing that the writer and major stars of the movie he was in had requested his firing. In writing. The producer comes to watch the scene being shot and Evans decides to just go for broke and act the hell out of his scene. He didn't allow himself to be crushed or distraught over the disapproval of Gardner, Hemingway or Powers. He had nothing to lose so he went for it. But it gets better - it's not that this courageous moment led to a great acting career -Evans knew he was no actor. In fact, after this glorious moment came two embarrassing failures. Evans returned to New York (where had had a good job working for designer Evan Picone) thinking his life in Hollywood was over. But it wasn't over. Another opportunity came up - Evans was stubborn, he was brash, he just never gave up. And that, Wavers - that is the lesson he has for us.

If you haven't see THE KID STAYS IN THE PICTURE, make yourself a martini, light up a cigar and enjoy. I promise you'll be entertained and inspired. Or maybe you can just not light the cigar. Or get a candy one. Whatever puts you in the mood of a mogul-in-the-making. Just not smoking and illegal drugs - Evans had a problem with cocaine that the movie doesn't shy away from. It destroyed his career for some time. But I digress. Watch the movie. You'll love it.

*Actually I paraphrased the second sentence. I can't remember the exact words. You know, these days, some Anonymous Miscreant will track down the exact quote and give me hell. I actually tried to find the second half of the quote but couldn't. Stupid Intertubes.



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

Monday, March 16, 2009

Voting on the Short Scenes

Hey Wavers - ballots are being stuffed. And I don't like it. If I don't see these votes evening out a great deal in the next couple of days, then unfortunately, we will have to disqualify the winner of this competition, for starters, and secondly, this may be it for short scene competitions. I am sorely disappointed that we can't seem to vote honestly. That is all.

Now get back to work.


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

Top Three St. Patty's Short Scenes


All right, Wavers. Here we go, the top three. To put everything in perspective, I received 59 short scenes. When I judged the scenes, I looked, initially, for format and density (too much black). I didn't disqualify a short scene for having too much black or being in MS word, but nine out of ten times if there WAS too much black, the story was also not very compelling. Interesting pattern. The next step of sorting through the scripts was that I looked for originality: writers who surprised me. It's sobering how many scripts were actually quite alike this time, I mean, really sobering. Come on you guys. You gotta be more unique! Lastly, I looked for writers who managed to really, seriously, honestly tell a complete story.

I received a lot of odd, sort of "momenty" scenes. Sort of film student pastiches or moments that went nowhere. Ungood.

Beginning, middle, end. Compelling and unique conflict. This time, I've noted why I chose a particular scene. Look and learn, Wavers, look and learn. Unique, compelling, cinematic and - well - fun. That's what each of these short scenes has in common. If your script was not chosen, it may have been momenty or unoriginal - or it might have been great but just couldn't quite compete with the finalists I chose. I wish I could give each individual notes and feedback but unfortunately that is untenable so you'll have to do it the old-fashioned way - you'll have to compare and surmise by reading these finalists and then review your own entry.

For now, here at the top three:

SILVER NICKELS
by Emily Backus

Why I chose this short scene: Emily went totally, 100% outside of the box on this one. She used the keywords in the single most creative way, more than anybody else did in this competition. The scene is funny, it works and it made me laugh.

EXT. DESERTED STREET - DAY

A rickety car idles at a stoplight, puttering quietly in the
early dawn light. The light clicks from crimson to emerald
and the car peels through the damp intersection.

BUD
How you doin’ back there honey?

He glances to the back seat where his massively pregnant wife
is braced against the rear seat, contorted in pain.

CHARLENE
(huffing)
Oh, just grand.

She cracks an eye open and looks out the window.

CHARLENE
Turn here. Turn here!

Bud is barely able to veer right, to the tune of complaining
shrieks.

BUD
Yes honey, I believe I know where
the highway is!

They merge into a stately parade of rush hour traffic.

CHARLENE
We’re carpoolin’! Use the freaking
diamond lane!

Bud flicks on the blinker and waves genially at honking
motorists.

BUD
I am doing that just as fast as
humanly possible, dear. You just
concentrate on your breathing and,
well, Lucky of course.

CHARLENE
(breathing heavily)
Listen here, I do not care if this
baby was made over a bowl of
cereal. We are not naming him
after a fuckin’ leprechaun!

BUD
Well Christ, excuse me. Dwayne Leon
Nickels Jr.! Got no ring to it. Not
like Lucky Silver Nickels!

THE GREEN GET-AWAY
by Audrey McKenzie

Why I chose this short scene: It starts off as a very typical short scene in this competition: the waif, the parade, the leprechauns exactly as you would imagine - then goes in a totally different, PAPER MOON direction. The ending image made me laugh; this entry is cinematic and satisfying.

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY

A MARCHING BAND leads a parade of St. Patrick's Day floats. LEPRECHAUNS of all sizes walk alongside a float and wave to the CROWD lining the sidewalk.

Behind the throng of people, KATIE (8), a waif in grubby Keds, leans against a wall beneath a window display of emerald jewelry, and stares with longing at the families enjoying the parade.

She turns as a WOMAN enters the jewelry store.

Sadness clouds Katie's face. She bursts into tears.

INT. JEWELRY STORE - MOMENTS LATER

A CLERK hands the woman a chunky emerald bracelet.

Katie runs into the store crying.

KATIE
Mommmeeee!

Crashes into the woman, stumbles.

Concerned, the woman leans over to help Katie up.

Katie jerks the bracelet out of the woman's hand, races for the door. The clerk lunges for her, misses.

CLERK
Stop, you little thief!

The woman gawks.

EXT. CITY STREET - SAME

Katie weaves between the parade-goers, breaks through and darts for an alley.

MOMENTS LATER

HONK! HONK! The parade-goers turn toward the sound. A child's pedal car speeds out of the alley. Behind the wheel is Katie, disguised as a leprechaun in a floppy green hat, rust-colored beard, and green shirt.

To the delight of the crowd, Katie pedals away, knobby knees pumping like pistons, headed for a group of SHRINERS in clown-cars.

ST. PATRICK'S DAY BLUES

by Iain Urquhart

Why I chose this short scene: Because the truncated, noir/detective writing was perfect. The patter between Dougan and Hannegan, as Dougan explains, in his jaded way, the dirty underbelly of "Lep" crime - I laughed aloud. Iain really nailed this scene.

INT. CHIEF DOUGAN'S OFFICE - DAY

DOUGAN, feet on desk. Big cop. Cheroot, pork pie hat. Unlit.
HANNEGAN, fresh-faced kid, throws an OLD SHOE onto the desk.

HANNEGAN
It's him. Forensics confirms it.

Dougan lifts up the shoe, with a pencil and a cop-bred sneer.

DOUGAN
You grow up in the Emerald Isle,
kid, you don't need no lab to
confirm it. You got a shoe in the
case, you got a leprechaun perp.

He drops the shoe, takes in Hannegan's puzzled admiration.

DOUGAN
Shoe's standard MO for a lep.
They got interests in cobbling.
Cobbling's legit. It ain't their
shoe. They was only mending it.
Lepped-up lawyer, they're back on
the street. Making mischief.

Hannegan fishes a note out of the shoe, reads it.

HANNEGAN
Mischief it is, Chief. He's gonna
hit the St. Patrick's parade. He
don't get a crock of gold at the
end of the rainbow, he's gonna
curdle the Guinness.

DOUGAN
It .. it'll be DRY out there!

HANNEGAN
If it ain't wet. He's gonna plant
laxative Baileys and heist all
the two-ply. Think of the women.

Dougan does, and the color drains from his face.

HANNEGAN
Leprechaun on our back, Mayor up
our ass. We need a plan, Chief.

DOUGAN
Irish shit storm, there's only
one plan. A rubber suit, with
another guy in it. Bring me the
Batphone.


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

Friday, March 13, 2009

Are You Ready for Representation?

Good morning, Wavers. Sometimes I think I've said everything there is to say about screenwriting on The Rouge Wave. I struggle to come up with a fresh take and by jiminy, I do it. Other days I reach back into the archives and find older blog posts that are just as relevant as the day I wrote them and could use another airing. So that said, here is a post about whether you are really ready to be repped yet:

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Nicholl Fellowship
The Austin Film Festival
The Silver Screenwriting Competition (natch)
Final Draft Big Break
The Blue Cat Screenwriting Competition
The Disney Fellowship
Slamdance
Creative Screenwriting’s AAA Competition
Creative Screenwriting’s yearly Expo Competition

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

Competition winners will have their work exposed to industry professionals. Some competitions are more illustrious than others – Nicholl comes to mind – but all of these competitions are designed to help launch writers. I urge all my clients to enter as many of these competitions as they can. I am sad to report that the Fade In Screenwriting Competition has had some pretty serious complaints against it so I'd caution you away from that one.

PITCH FESTS
Attending a pitch fest is also a good way to seek representation. If your work is not only highly polished and ready, but you feel confident pitching – this could be a terrific opportunity. The Great American Pitch Fest, which is, in my opinion, head-and-shoulders above any others, is coming up in June.

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

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

CAA
ICM
William Morris
Endeavor
Benderspink

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

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

Do not pay any fees – ever. Believe more highly in your work than to be lured into the grasp of these bottom feeders.

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

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

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

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

The $64,000 question is this: How do you know if your work is good enough to be repped? Have you sought feedback from either professionals in the industry or trusted and literate friends? Have you done everything in your power to improve your writing at every turn? Are you perhaps rushing things and looking for the instant $1,000,000 spec sale? Slow down, take your time and do your homework.

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

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

Thursday, March 12, 2009

The Fresh Idea Race

A Rouge Waver wrote in with a two-part question:

One of the many problems I'm encountering as a novice is coming up with a good story idea. I imagine it's one that plagues screenwriters at every level, but as a novice it looms large, that's for sure.

Join the crowd. Coming up with fresh ideas is, in my opinion, the only REAL challenge of being an aspiring screenwriter. All the other stuff - execution, i.e. what I talk about on TRW almost every day in one form or another - is something that screenwriters eventually get right through practice and repetition. Writing great character and dialogue, nailing structure, understanding theme and tone, developing voice, writing cinematic, kinetic action lines. That's all accessible for most aspirants. Of course, there's that ineffable innate talent thing and that's just god-given but still, you get my point. Execution and craft can, for the most part, be learned.

But fresh ideas - that's tough. In this week's New Yorker, there is a really great article about Tony Gilroy (MICHAEL CLAYTON, DUPLICITY, etc.) and here is a section I thought fascinating and depressing:

Gilroy believes that the writer and the moviegoing public are engaged in a cognitive arms race. As the audience grows savvier, the screenwriter has to invent new reversals - madder music and stronger wine. Perhaps the most famous reversal in film was written by William Goldman...in MARATHON MAN. Laurence Olivier, a sadistic Nazi dentist, is drilling into Dustin Hoffman's mouth, trying to force him to disclose the location of a stash of diamonds. "Is it safe?" he keeps asking. Suddenly, William Devane sweeps in to rescue him and spirits Hoffman away. In the subsequent car ride, Devane starts asking questions; he wants to know where the diamonds are. After a few minutes, Hoffman's eyes grow wide: Devane and Olivier are in league! "Thirty years ago when Goldman wrote it, the reversal in MARATHON MAN was fresh," Gilroy says. "But it must have been used now 4000 times." This is the problem that new movies must solve. As Gilroy says, "How do you write a reversal that uses the audience's expectations in a new way? You have to write to their accumulated knowledge."

Now, in this passage, Gilroy is speaking specifically about reversals - but the same is true of coming up with fresh ideas - you must write to the audience's accumulated knowledge. Which is why the list of movies we were coming up with yesterday is important. Screenwriters need to be articulate in what has come before and what is going on now. Because audiences have literally seen every story that can be told at the movies already. They really have. But. Knowing that, it's not that you have to come up with an idea for something that has literally never been done (good luck with that, by the way) it's telling a story with your particular imprint, with your particular take on it - that is what you need to strive for. I believe there are infinite variations on each story and that's what keeps the doors open for you as you strive to come up with an original idea. You have to think about the meta story you want to tell - okay this is the story of a man needing to restore his pride and his dignity. Okay how about if that's a western? How about if we make the antagonist a wealthy landowner? Nah. How about we make the antagonist a dangerous outlaw? Yeah, okay - how about the story is not about the rancher trying to save his ranch but him accepting a job in order to save his ranch? What kind of job? How about if the job has to do with the outlaw? And we have 3:10 TO YUMA.

So it's being able to go from the meta to the details of your story. And it is in the details that you will find the specificity and the originality you are looking for. In FRENCH KISS the meta story is an uptight woman who falls for a rebel type. Yeah but he's a Frenchman. And the woman has to get on a plane and track down her fiance, who she thinks is cheating. And she sits right next to this crazy, stinky Frenchman - and they wind up falling in love. So the meta story is pretty familiar, yes, of course, but the specific details create a particularity we have not seen.

So when trying to come up with a good idea for a script, at first identify the meta. Then create details that have not been seen before. Use your store of knowledge about what has come before. If you're writing a romcom - you better have seen a truckload of romcoms so you are aware of what has been done. Ditto every other genre. This is why it is essential that screenwriters - woe are we - see a huge amount of movies. Pity the poor sucker who skips this step, thinking that he or she is just so brilliant that totally original ideas literally sprout from their brain regularly. No such luck. You have to do your homework. Identify which genre you'd like to write, noodle around with some ideas then test them - go through the mental files (if not physical files) of other movies in this genre and look for similarities and differences. How can your idea be the same but different?

And part two of this Waver's question:

I'm particularly attracted to movies like Babel, Traffic, and Syriana et al; those with multiple storylines and a common thread (although, I wasn't all that keen on Crash, too preachy I thought...okay, racism, I get it). But, how many scripts are you seeing that employ this technique? Would you tell me not to bother, it's been done to death? Or, would you say that it may be okay to pursue as a writing sample?

You know, for a while there, a couple years back, I saw TONS of scripts that were ensemble, braided storyline scripts just like BABEL, TRAFFIC and CRASH. A lot of writers got inspired by that. So on the one hand, I would say beware going for that - it's a very tough mini-genre to pull off and to pull off well, let me tell you that. The skill set involved is formidable. That said, because Hollywood is so counter-intuitive sometimes - I would always err on the side of writing what you are really, really passionate about. If that's what you want to write - go for it. If you can pull it off with excellence and originality, it will at minimum make a great sample. And who knows - it might just get you repped or even sold. An awareness that there was a spate of films of this nature relatively recently is of course key. I do not think writing this type of script is a slam dunk right now. I wouldn't do it, personally. That said, in my opinion, there is one truism in Hollywood that trumps them all and that is that nobody knows anything. So do what you will.

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

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Catching Up On Your Movies

Like most of you, I have seen jillions of movies. During different phases of my life, I focused my interest on particular movies: foreign, indy, documentaries, particular directors, etc. During a huge chunk of the '80s I was an art house junkie - it's German cinema week at the Old Vic! Thus, I eschewed mainstream movies like say, TOP GUN. It was just so bourgeois! Some movies, like say AMADEUS, I skipped because they were so ubiquitous and popular - and therefore far, far beneath my snobby little self. How silly, right?

Well, now I am making things right. I have a little notebook that I carry with me everywhere I go and every time I hear about a movie I should see - whether it dates back to my snobby days, or whether it's just something that for whatever set of reasons I missed, it goes on the list. And I'm having a lot of fun working my way through it. Some of the movies on my list I am frankly horrified and embarrassed that I didn't watch. Just so embarrassed. AMADEUS? Being that I am a screenwriter and own a business that advises other screenwriters...? That's just lame. So it's on the list.

My personal list also includes movies that I am not in the least bit embarrassed that I missed - I just missed the movie and I'd like to see it. Some of those movies are: 21 GRAMS, THE ROAD TO PERDITION, MATCHSTICK MEN, GANGS OF NEW YORK, etc.

Have you ever talked to a fellow screenwriter and they mention a movie they never saw and your eyes widen in absolute horror - NO. WAY! A friend told me the other day he'd never seen CHINATOWN and that was my reaction. Are you kidding? And you write scripts? Of course, then that person said but wait - you never saw GOONIES and a lively argument ensued as to the relative merits of a cute but forgettable '80s movie that has no must-see merits when it comes to screenwriters. You can see my prejudices all over the place on that one, right?

For a movie to make my personal list, it has to have three qualities: It will enrich my personal life because it's a beloved movie, it will enrich my professional understanding of film or I'm just plain curious about it. So one example from each category: THE KID STAYS IN THE PICTURE (documentary about Robert Evans, how did I miss this? Personal enrichment.). TOP GUN (I know why I missed it, I am not embarrassed, but it is oft referred to in screenwriting circles. Professional enrichment.). GALLIPOLI (directed by Peter Weir, with Mel Gibson, supposed to be really great. Curiosity factor.).

A friend and I were discussing this very topic yesterday evening and we made a list of movies that screenwriters really should be embarrassed if they have not seen. Now, of course this list is subjective and I have not seen every single one of these movies (we'll count up the exact number) but here's the scenario: You walk into a screenwriting writers' group and you are asked if you've seen one of these movies and you haven't - and you turn beet red. Because the movies on this list are accessible and available. Because they are often discussed. Because they feature unforgettable, iconic performances or were in some way seminal, instructive or innovative. Because they are part of the history and trajectory of film (say noir or screwball).

I could blanch that someone has not seen, say, HAROLD AND MAUDE, but it doesn't make this list because it's a cult movie and because while it is amazing and excellent and one of my top movies, it isn't an embarrassing hole in your movie viewing history. I would just say wow you should go see it. Or another example: SILKWOOD. I love it, it's great, but I wouldn't look askance if you hadn't seen it.

So here is the list we came up with, that if you walked into a screenwriting group and hadn't seen this movie, you would be stared daggers at and you should indeed feel a little embarrassed:

AMADEUS*
CASABLANCA
KARATE KID*
BLUE VELVET
CHINATOWN
CITIZEN KANE
STAR WARS
ET
INDIANA JONES
CHARLIE CHAPLIN (any or all)
FATAL ATTRACTION
SUNSET BOULEVARD
PSYCHO
REAR WINDOW
MALTESE FALCON
BREAKFAST AT TIFFANYS
WALL STREET
SCARFACE
THE GODFATHER
WHEN HARRY MET SALLY
ANNIE HALL
SCHINDLER'S LIST*
THE WIZARD OF OZ
ROCKY
THE SIXTH SENSE
THE MATRIX
DIE HARD
THE PRINCESS BRIDE
HIGH NOON
TAXI DRIVER
THE BREAKFAST CLUB
TOOTSIE
RISKY BUSINESS
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS
2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY
BRINGING UP BABY
DOUBLE INDEMNITY
CHARIOTS OF FIRE*
MOONSTRUCK
FARGO
MEMENTO
IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE
THE USUAL SUSPECTS
JAWS
THE EXORCIST
GOODFELLAS*
THE SHINING
BIG
SILENCE OF THE LAMBS
ALIEN
ANIMAL HOUSE*
ON THE WATERFRONT
NETWORK
THE FRENCH CONNECTION
APOCALYPSE NOW
DELIVERANCE
PRETTY WOMAN
ARTHUR
BACK TO THE FUTURE
GONE WITH THE WIND
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN
TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE
ROSEMARY'S BABY
PATTON
THE GRADUATE
RAGING BULL
FORREST GUMP
SOME LIKE IT HOT
TOY STORY
THELMA AND LOUISE
A CLOCKWORK ORANGE*
FINDING NEMO
ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST
AMERICAN BEAUTY
THE PLAYER
ALL ABOUT EVE
TERMS OF ENDEARMENT
ADAM'S RIB
REBECCA
MILDRED PIERCE
HARVEY
FROM HERE TO ETERNITY
LAWRENCE OF ARABIA
GLADIATOR

Okay there are seven movies on this list that I have not seen and they are all on my Hall of Shame List: AMADEUS, KARATE KID, GOODFELLAS, SCHINDLER'S LIST, ANIMAL HOUSE, CHARIOTS OF FIRE, A CLOCKWORK ORANGE. And here's why I didn't see them: 1) Ubiquity/snobbyness. 2. Same. 3. Aversion to mob violence in movies 4. Tried but it upset me very much. 5. I was too young and frat life had no relevance in my life. 6. Ubiquitous soundtrack annoyed me out of it. 7) I have seen clips and it looks really upsetting. Don't worry. I'll man up.

So what would you add to this list? Remember the criteria for being on this list:

It's easily accessible: it can be found at any video store.

It is reasonable that a person younger than 40 would, could or should have seen this. This is an important criterion to remember. Should GRAND HOTEL or GILDA be on this list? Yeah, maybe. But for most younger screenwriters today who aren't enrolled in a film studies program, movies like that are reaching back into the dust bin a little bit.

It is frequently discussed in screenwriting circles. Not cinephile, snobby circles (you know who you are, person about to jot down LA DOLCE VITA). Regular circles.

It has a seminal or iconic performance (You talkin' to me?) .

The embarrassment barometer: If you haven't seen it, you often pretend you have. (Aren't you proud of me, Wavers, for being totally honest about my missing movies?)

It is not a cult movie, it is fairly mainstream (So hesitate before you list anything, Lynch-lovers. I threw BLUE VELVET on the list, because I do think it was stylistically innovative but...).

It is part of the history and trajectory of film; it fills in the holes of your film history.

It is instructive for screenwriters: It has amazing dialogue or crazy structure, it broke with convention in some way. It innovated storytelling (THE MATRIX).

Okay, ready, set...what are your hall of shame movies? How many movies on this starter list have you not seen? Paying careful attention to the list of criteria and setting your snobbi-tude aside, which movies are missing? Are you sure you aren't listing REVENGE OF THE NERDS because it lit you up when you were 12? Does it really fit the criteria?

****
Added because I've already gotten a couple of outraged - how could you forget THIS? This is a starter list. That is the point. Look over the criteria and make suggestions. What is missing that fits the criteria?

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

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Avoiding Writing By Numbers

A very polite Rouge Waver asked me an excellent question and that is how to avoid writing by numbers. In other words - oh look! It's page 10 and there is a nice, tidy inciting incident! ...and page 50, this feels like the midpoint! ...and clearly this is our main character's redemptive moment of overcoming his flaw! Another Waver had written that he read at some big production companies and would cringe when he saw scripts that were so perfectly cookie cutter.

I'd like to say I had the same experience while reading at production companies but honestly, there were so many cringe-ier moments than that. Have I read a handful of cookie cutter scripts? Sure. I guess. But if the script is written well, really the last thing I'm really going to have a problem with is that the inciting incident falls exactly, neatly on page 10 or that the cute meet is so cute it makes my teeth hurt. But ah - therein lies the rub. A cookie cutter script is not written well, ultimately, is it? Because one should not notice the gears in the machine. Only the purr of the machine itself.

Every writer has a different jumping off point and different strengths and weaknesses. Writers evolve as they continue to write. So it depends on how long you've been writing in your life, what you've been writing and how much time you put into it. But like fish emerging from the mud and putting one shaky fin onto firm ground and lurching forward, evolution is an imperative.

One such stage of a writer's evolution is the Hopped Up On Too Much Theoretical Learning Stage. In which a writer becomes enslaved by methodology and totally subsumes his or her voice and originality but nails everything else technically. The machine is there, all right, but there's no ghost in it.

And this is the script that feels as if it were written by numbers. If you're in this stage, you know it and it's very frustrating. You feel literally enslaved. Shackled. Harnessed to a yoke. And you stop having fun. And you write stuff that is cookie cutter and you know it and it works but you hate it.

So how do you bust out of this particular stage?

Character, character, character. If you have written a three-dimensional, quirky, believable, compelling, original character with shades of complexity, your script just can't feel cookie cutter. Because if the reader is thoroughly engaged in your writing and by this main character, the stakes will feel real and organic - because they ARE for this character. The plot points will feel totally natural - even if they do happen to fall conveniently on page 25, 50 and 75. Because the reader's brain won't be engaged on that level - the reader will simply be along for the ride.

If a reader really NOTICES each plot point, then that means they aren't totally engaged in the story. Does that make sense? Structure, in particular, is like the blueprint for your script - it should go away underneath the fabulous beauty of the house itself.

So if you feel yourself writing by numbers - dutifully writing a cute meet where the couple are walking their dogs and the leashes get tangled - stop and ask yourself if your main character would truly do something like that or whether you've seen too many romcoms and are writing a derivative scene.

Character is the absolute holy grail of good writing. That said, the writing-by-numbers, over-intellectualizing stage of screenwriting is for many an unavoidable stage. And it sucks. But take heart - because it's actually up there relatively high on the scale of a screenwriter's evolution. It's something you must go through in order to overcome. It's fairly normal, you will get through it and again, hey, feel good - you aren't at the stage where you were six scripts ago, when you could not grasp how to execute an entertaining theme.

Screenwriting is math and art. And the art part cannot be taught. It's as though you've been taught to build perfectly symmetrical cupboards and you'd like to do better than that but you keep creating perfectly symmetrical cupboards. Well god damn, how do you do better than that?

There's good news and bad news. The bad news is you can't think your way outside of this box. The good news is what you have to do is simple: Set yourself free and don't worry about the math because you already know it. Stop looking down at the tightrope and start looking up at the stars. Trust your writing. Wax on, wax off, grasshopper. Repetition, practice, preparation and letting go are the magic recipe.

Now get back to work.

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

Monday, March 9, 2009

Subtext

One rogue Rouge Waver has asked me the same question twice in comments rather than email me the question directly and the lesson here is both that you kids need to listen to mama and also if you bug me enough, I'll probably answer the question eventually anyway. However, going forward, please, please do not leave questions in comments that require a whole blog post to answer. Email them to me using the handy sidebar above my picture that says MY EMAIL. That way I can find 'em, consider 'em and answer 'em in a timely manner. Questions I love - questions in comments make me crazy. Ahem. Onward.

The rogue Waver says I should talk about subtext. I find this question very silly because almost everything is subtext. The alternative is writing on-the-nose. There is subtext to what I'm writing right now. Can you pick up what I'm laying down? Do you detect an undertone? That's subtext.

Subtext is one of those skills that separate talented writers from inexperienced writers with unconfirmed, nascent would-be-maybe talent. Why? Because if you have to ask, Houston, you are lacking a fundamental skill set when it comes to writing. All right, all right, now I'm being a little snobby. But really. Seriously. Subtext is any writer's stock and trade. If you don't know that - know it now.

Think about the root of the word - sub - and then text. Beneath the text. The meaning beneath the words.

Subtext: Aren't you glad you paid attention in school during "root words are fun"?

In screenwriting, we have different kinds of writing: We have action line writing, which is where that pithy, almost haiku-like, voicey stuff goes - the way you describe things cinematically - and we have dialogue writing. Everything else is the way the story is organized. Notice I've left out the most fundamental ingredient - inventive imagination - but that's not writing, per se. It's how you came up with the idea in the first place and it's how you figure out theme, tone and genre.

Two kinds of writing. Dialogue. Action lines. And both can include subtext.

LLOYD (52) is an insurance adjuster cowboy with the knock-off Rolex to prove it. He moves his tie over the gravy stain on his polyester shirt and leans toward MARVELLE (35), way too pretty to be at this crummy convention:

LLOYD: Hey. Let me know if you didn't get that last part. We could uh, go over it later if you want.

Marvelle shifts her attention from the SEA OF CONVENTIONEERS to Lloyd.

MARVELLE: I'd love to go over it later.

LLOYD: Oh yeah, sure. How about we meet in the bar in 10? I'll sketch it all out. Go over the numbers. Put you ahead of the game.

MARVELLE: Let me go freshen up.

So who's zoomin' who here? There's subtext in the dialogue, there's subtext in the description of Lloyd - and yet all of it rises to the surface to create a situation which could either be funny or horrifying. The subtext in the action lines actually isn't that subtextual: "knock off Rolex," "gravy stain," "polyester shirt" - this paints a picture of Lloyd, yes? Does Marvelle need to freshen up because she's a two dollar hooker scamming conventioneers or because she truly likes Lloyd and she's had a long day? Is this a love story about to play out? Or FATAL ATTRACTION?

In the same way that writing is rewriting, subtext is writing. That's why it's so hard to write and write well. Subtext is the feeling behind the words and the situation. And to get that out of your head and onto paper in a way that I can be entertained by - that's just magic. If you are asking what subtext is - the answer is subtext is what writing is made of.

Again, the alternative is writing on-the-nose. It's the difference between writing a manual and writing real prose. A manual leads me step by step - no imagination, no experience of revelation and discovery is possible. But good writing always includes subtext - it IS subtext. The reader has to piece together what's happening.

Subtext exists in writing because it's a lot like real life. Almost nothing in real life is exactly what it seems. Is that happy couple really happy? Was that a sincere comment? Did your boss really mean to put you on another account for your own good? But subtext also exists in writing because good writing is like life elevated to a higher, more thematic, more symbolic level.

Writers are both pointillists and realists. Portraiture artists and modern artists. We zoom in and out in our writing to create a satisfying web of a story that engages the reader on every level.

If all of this is beginning to sound pretentious or intimidating or confusing simply scroll back up to the mini-story of Lloyd and Marvelle. There's subtext in every bit of that tiny sketch.

Look at your script pages - are you telling us exactly what's going on very clearly? Or are you showing us through gestures, tones and - subtext?

Now, upon occasion, some high falutin' writers who have gone from novel writing to screenwriting forget that in screenwriting there needs to be more clarity and less circular intellectualizing of things. Screenwriting is NOT the bastard stepchild of prose; it is at once much simpler and more complex. It's nuanced but clear. It's cinematic but internal. It is universal, it is personal.

While a novelist can take two pages to explore a character's inner thoughts with nothing else driving the plot in that moment, a screenwriter must marry plot and character development in each scene.

So - what is subtext in screenwriting? Everything. It is the essence of the craft itself.

Now get back to work. And don't leave me questions in the comments section anymore. :)



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

Saturday, March 7, 2009

The Midpoint Mind-Melt

It brings up feelings of inadequacy and intimidation. It haunts your dreams at night because you don't have one: the complication. The reversal. The midpoint. Why does it feel like some kind of awful, scary anvil hanging over your head?

The midpoint need not be an intimidating thing. The light bulb went off over my head years ago when I began to use the four act structure and when I realized that the midpoint, while it does do a special job, is really just another plot point.

A brief review of the four act structure (oddly called such, since really, it's just dividing your second act in two):

act one: pages one-30(-ish)
act two A: pages 30-50(ish)
act two B: pages 50-80(ish)
act three: pages 80(ish) on

We know from studying screenwriting that the second act really is the meat and potatoes of the whole script. It is during the second act that the bulk of the horrifying or funny or dramatic or sad adventure you have penned happens. Yes? The first act is primarily set up and engine revving, the third act is the exciting, climactic oh-my-god-how-will-it-all-end. But the second act is the part of the movie that producers buy. It is the part of the story that defines what the movie is really all about. It is the logline of your script writ large.

It is in the second act that Luke gets his set pieces on in STAR WARS. It is the second act that shows us what Elle's decision to go to Harvard Law really looks like for her as she experiences it in LEGALLY BLONDE. And speaking of Witherspoon, it is in the second act of ELECTION that shows us to what lengths Tracy Flick is willing to go.

Plot points are relatively egalitarian. Plot points are the spots in a script when BIG STUFF HAPPENS to propel the story forward. They are they cliffhanger moments, the what-will-the-main-character DO moments. The first plot point propels us INTO the second act, ergo its enormous importance.

In Vogler/Campbell terms, the "call" is the inciting incident on page 10(ish). You know, the "call to adventure" that the main character most emphatically would like to ignore. It's upsetting the applecart. And the main character, in general, would really like to NOT have this crazy adventure but rather to keep on keeping on in his or her normal life..aas flawed or dysfunctional as that life is. The first plot point is an event that SHOVES the main character forward into the meat of the story - whether they like it or not. There is no getting out of this story and there is no possibility of not going on this adventure.

And the second plot point or second act break, which falls around page 75 or 80 (again, using very slippery math; it depends on your script), is what forces a climactic ending for the whole story.

But the midpoint is the game-changer. The main character is coping in a way that should, according to them, wind up this story quickly and easily - but it fails. Something changes. The mid-point is a reversal which causes your main character to have to make a new plan. They get spun in a new direction. What was working will not work. Because the antagonist upped the game. Because something changed drastically.

I used to be able to rattle off how various screenwriting gurus name the midpoint, but I no longer can. I purposely off-loaded that information some time ago. But you can call it whatever you want - it really doesn't have to be complicated.

Every plot point (or pinch, or break) does the same job - it thrusts the hero into the next, more amped up, higher stakes part of the story. If a script takes the shape of a rollercoaster, with the first 10 pages being the slow click-click-click of the rollercoaster heading up the first hill, then each ensuing plot point is a sharp curve, turn or downward drop.

So the first act is compelling but not as heart-pounding as the third act, right? Of course not. Story-telling is a striptease; as the story unfolds, the audiences gets more and more invested. They HAVE to stick around to see what happens. Because it just keeps getting worse.

Think of the midpoint the same as any of your other plot points. Plot points are plot points. They are pivotal moments that raise the stakes and make things worse and more complicated for your main character.

Except, if you look at the placement of each plot point, you'll notice they are perched on the cusp of a particular act, and as the acts progress, they move faster and more pell mell toward the exciting ending.

So the first act break pushes your character INTO the pool - SPLASH - and now they have to swim. RAINMAN: Cruise kidnaps his brother. Off they go. Adventure started. Trigger pulled.

The midpoint is when you take away the raft, lifejacket and lifeguard. Now swim, sucker. You had no idea that this pool is really the wide open sea. SIXTH SENSE: I see dead people.

The second plot point is when your main character is now faced with a choice: Do or die. Succeed or fail. He or she will have to face down the antagonist in a battle scene. All bets are off.

So try not to mythologize the midpoint too much - just take a close look at where it falls in the script. Dead center. And audiences enjoy the vicarious thrill of hoping the main character will succeed but wondering how the hell that is possible. The midpoint is a complication that causes the main character to have to reach for new solutions after a period of total OH SHIT-ness. Now what?

I should invent new labels for plot points:

Uh Oh! - page 10
Can This Situation Get Any Worse?? - page 25
OH HOLY SHIT - midpoint
Do-or-Die Time - page 75

It is around the midpoint that your main character starts to let go of who they were on page one. They start really coming face to face with what is not working in their lives. The midpoint is the part of going camping when you wind up lost in the rain, and have to patch your tent with a pair of boxer shorts and some gum and you sit there glum and pissed off and light a match to look at a map and then discover it's the wrong map. At the midpoint, your main character is totally, utterly FUBARed. A new plan is needed. Some serious action is needed here. Despair, desperation, anger - all of that will inspire a brand new plan of attack. Your character will crawl out of that tent into the mud, rise up and have a new plan. One that might not work but hey, they're lost in the rainy, dark woods, what other choice is there? It is go time and nothing so far has worked out very well. The midpoint is a tipping point for your main character. If the climactic ending shows what your main character is really made of, the midpoint is the first inkling of that.


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

Friday, March 6, 2009

Subplots or "B" Storylines

There are of course charts, graphs and stacks of books on every aspect of screenwriting. And at times it can all feel quite academic and intimidating. I know I used to feel that way about subplots. Subplot - what do you mean? I just figured out the main plot! Aaargghhh!

But think of it this way - your character has more going on in his or her life than the adventure at hand, right? Your character has or had a job, a spouse or significant other, parents, siblings - a life. So the B Story - or subplot - is going to be related to something else going on for your main character, if not something going on with another significant character in your script. It's another, lesser complication and it also adds to the lesson or journey for your main character.

Writing subplots is part of writing three-dimensional characters - the adventure happening to them does not exist in a void, right? Stuff was going on for your character before the story began and stuff will go on after the story ends. Characters cannot exist in a bell jar. Subplots not only create a more compelling, fleshed-out story, they are part of a more compelling, fleshed-out character.

Your script might have several strands or subplots that all thematically connect and relate to the main plot. A subplot doesn't necessarily have to take up much screen time but it will definitely have a beginning, middle and end.

A great way to study and really GET subplot is in sitcoms. Just because they are quite overt. Rachel and Ross decide whether to live together - subplot - Joey auditions for a part as a dinosaur. And you'll notice the connect-a-dots with the subplot interrupting the main plot only enough to play itself out pretty efficiently.

Subplots do a lot of things for your script: They flesh out the world and the characters and they also serve as a way of creating more tension in the main plot because we want to get back to THE GOOD PART and see what's going to happen! I could say a bunch of academic stuff here about how the subplot needs to be in service to the theme - but, is that academic? Or just plain obvious? Right? The subplot is some kind of version - even an opposite version - of the theme in the main plot.

Let me think of some subplot examples off the top of my head - mind you, I am only plucking out ONE subplot from these examples, of course there are more:

LEGALLY BLONDE: Elle tries to help her manicurist friend with her love life.

BEETLE JUICE: Lydia's horrible mother, Delia, is an "artist" who seeks to turn the house into an avante garde haven for her pretentious friends.

MILK: Harvey's relationship with his boyfriend is strained by his ambitions.

3:10 to YUMA: Dan Evans tries to earn his son's respect.

HOT FUZZ: Nick Angel's friendship with Danny Butterman.

SCARFACE: Tony Montana's relationships with his wife and his sister.

STAR WARS: The love triangle between Luke, Princess Leia and Han Solo.

POLTERGEIST: Craig T. Nelson's relationship with his work - the evil company that paved the burial ground in the first place.

So take a look at your script - do you have subplots going on? And are those subplots in service to the main character and the main plot? Does each of your subplots have a setup, a complication and a resolution? Does the subplot (or subplots) fit organically into the larger plot? Does the subplot speak to the theme?

Remember, subplots don't need to be complicated, necessarily. Subplots are complements to the main plot. They add nuance, complication and emotional complexity. You don't need to overthink your subplot - I'll bet you already have at least one. Just make sure you set it up, complicate it and pay it off.


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

Thursday, March 5, 2009

St. Paddy's Short Scene Competition


Okay guys - who feels like doing another short scene competition? Me! I do!

So you know the drill by now, or maybe you're new to TRW and you don't. Guidelines are below.

Keywords are:

Leprechaun
Emerald
Parade

Guidelines:
Write a one page short scene that includes the keywords above. Put the words in context, and make it creative and clever. The words should be key in the scenes, not just a passing inclusion. Don't just slot them in there somewhere. Genre doesn't matter, just keep it to one page.

Deadline:
Please turn your short scenes in by Thursday, March 12th by 11:59pm Pacific Time. I will select the top three and post them here for voting on Monday, March 16th.

Prizes:
A $25 gift certificate to the online vendor (Starbucks, Amazon, etc.) or charity of your choice.

Entry Fee:
Don't be silly.

Submit your scene HERE.


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

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

The Culture of ME

Many blogs are quite personal. Which is why, for a long time, blogs did not interest me whatsoever. Even though I am a people person and a writer, I really am quite honestly not interested in the details of the lives of random bloggers. You know, the early days of blogging were very belly-button gazey so you'd have these blogs (and you still do) in which bloggers rant about everything from movies they like to how much they love their kids or hate their in-laws or when they tried a new recipe. I found (and find) those types of blogs stultifying. If a reader has no investment in who this person IS, then it's tough to be entertained by unqualified rants. However, a good blogger, one who develops a persona, is one who can attract a following that becomes invested. Or is that who becomes invested, Chaia? (Did Wavers know that my adorable-but-could-totally-kick-your-ass assistant, Chaia, edits TRW daily because of course yours truly, who espouses good grammar and language usage, is eminently fallible and doesn't always have time to make corrections?) [LOL. --Ed.]

I have thus far fairly successfully avoided making The Rouge Wave about me. Rather, I really do try to make it about YOU. I already know about me. But I gather that you guys enjoy having a reasonably entertaining place to go where you might pick up some inspiration or tips about screenwriting while avoiding work and other temporarily avoidable duties. I am a procrastinator helper and I'm happy to be your Florence Nightingale.

So every day I try to come up with something for The Rouge Wave that contains valuable information for you. Some days it's easy, other days I stare at the screen and then go look at my Facebook, check the weather, get more coffee and return to the blank screen. Some days I'm cranky about something and so I blog about that. Other days I figure, well, we haven't talked about X subject for awhile, I guess it's my duty to return to that subject. The truth is, in the two+ years I've been writing The Rouge Wave, I think we've covered pretty much every subject related to screenwriting.

If you've ever wondered, yes, I do have to approve comments so if your comment shows up - yes, I read it. You might have a question in your comment and if I have the time and the desire, I answer it. If I don't have the time, I'm sorry, I skip answering the question. I do my best. I actually would MUCH prefer if you sent questions or topic suggestions HERE.

I have received zero flaming bags of poop since I changed the "anonymous" comment posting setting. It seems when one's real name is involved, people are a little more thoughtful in their comments. Fancy that.

As you can imagine, while I love The Rouge Wave, it is only one of 10,000 other daily duties, what with running a script coverage company in the throes of tremendous growth and a screenwriting competition - which - wow, you'd be surprised how much behind the scenes work THAT is. I had to have two training sessions on how to operate the Without A Box submission system. Color me not so techno-savvy. I manage several readers, a new creative director (hi, wonderful Keith I cannot do without), business partners and new investors. And then I try to find time to write.

The blur between my personal and professional lives is profound. Some stuff comes up and I try to repurpose it to make it relevant to writers and writing. Like being at the hospital all last weekend. Or the interest and attachment my partner and I have in and to our thriller. Or the arrival of Ray the Chihuahua a few months ago. He's up to a mighty five pounds, by the way. So - you might want to watch your fingertips and valuables around him. How so much attitude can be packed into five pounds is a mystery to me. Then there's Maddy the Shih-Tzu, or as we affectionately call her, The Glacier. She doesn't move around a whole lot. Except right around midnight when she and Ray do their nightly Indy 500 around my apartment. The other night, Maddy leaned from the couch to the coffee table and one by one nicked tangerines and brought them to her lair. She was lying on a pile of like 10 tangerines when I figured this out.

But mostly, I figure Wavers really don't want to know about what I get up to on a daily basis. But maybe I am wrong. Which is why today is an experiment in how long I can hold your attention. Don't worry, I have no intentions of changing up the content of TRW. It's just for today.

I practice what I preach in terms of joyfulness and balance in my life. I take long walks most every day. And on those long walks I decompress and explore my colorful neighborhood. Which is probably 80% Orthodox Jewish so that's interesting. I live quite close to CBS Television City and am treated to bursts of audience applause several days a week which is surreal. Can you imagine? My home is an informal salon for creatives - people knock on my door and show up at all hours, seven days a week. I guess it's comfy here and I always have good food and wine. Steve Faber is my neighbor and dear friend and so we have a lot of late night chats about what he's doing. He is one of the smartest, most intellectually curious people I have ever met and we love to discuss politics, history and literature. Give Steve a good cigar and a glass of wine or Belgian beer and you've got yourself one amazing conversation. Plus Steve has taught me what courage, humor and tenacity look like.

I am thinking of getting an office so that I no longer work at home. I am looking at an office on The Lot which is a historic studio lot here in LA. Mary Pickford, Douglass Fairbanks and Charlie Chaplin had their offices there. It is a storied studio lot and currently has offices rented to everyone from Alan Ball, Sacha Baron Cohen, Fuse Entertainment, Pachew Productions*, Heroes and Villains and too many others to list. True Blood is filmed there and there is a great commissary and courtyard. I'm excited to move my offices there and will be doing so in about a month. I feel like an 18-year-old getting her first apartment - I'm already thinking about how to decorate! I have been enjoying working at cafes lately but to have an actual office - that sounds like heaven to me. Then my home can again be just my home.

*Pachew Productions is a yet-to-exist production company that my friend Mike and I are noodling around with starting. Mike's offices are currently at The Lot.

So there you have it: today's Rouge Wave. Forgive me if I have bored you, thank you very much if I have entertained you. Either way - get back to work.

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

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Character Introductions and Voice

The very first time we see a character in your script is a fantastic opportunity for you to show us in descriptive words, WHO this character is. We need to know their age, yes, but we need to know something about the totality of this person. Now, in reality, people are layered and complex and one glance can't possibly telegraph everything about them, can it? And yet one can get a snapshot of a person based on their clothing and mannerisms.

Here's an amalgam of BAD character introductions that I have seen approximately 1.3 million times:

JOHN PATRICK is 43 years old and is wearing khaki pants with a blue shirt and a green tie. He is the president and CEO of a large industrial company and he is uptight and judgmental. His WIFE is 38 and has blonde, curly hair and green eyes. She is dressed in a sexy dress and she is bored with her life.

So - here we have a collection of descriptive words that don't add up to a feeling of who this couple is. They both just stand there like mannequins. We have a lot of information here - and information, by the way, that we cannot SEE (the president and CEO of a company) and dull details that do not paint a picture of the essence of these people. What does "bored with her life" look like? Why the specificity of khaki pants and a blue shirt? What does that convey, actually? That he's conservative? Maybe.

I once read a script years ago in which an African American couple debarks a plane on a tropical island. As they walk down the steps to the tarmac, the writer described their clothing: JOHN wears jeans with a white tee-shirt, tucked in and tan loafers. GINA wears a red floral dress with pink and purple flowers, white sandals and a floppy hat made of straw.

TERRIFIC. What. In the heck. Does this mean? Why do I care? How about they are wearing casual vacation clothes? I mean - what is the meaning here? That they look like they are on vacation? A laundry list of clothing or attributes is just that - a laundry list. It doesn't feel like anything. Don't ask me why that terrible description stuck with me. I have no explanation.

Remember that in screenwriting, your job is to describe people and things in such a way that the reader picks up what you are laying down about a character in the macro and in the micro. The details of their clothing generally doesn't matter - unless it MATTERS.

Here are five key character introductions from JUNO that just sing on the page because they tell a whole mini-story about each character in an engaging, clever and voice-filled way:

JUNO MACGUFF stands on a placid street in a nondescript subdivision, facing the curb. It's FALL. Juno is 16 years old, an artfully bedraggled burnout kid in a Catholic school uniform.

PAUL BLEEKER steps onto the front porch of his house for early morning track practice. Bleeker is a frail 16 year-old kid who looks 14. He wears a cross country uniform that reads "DANCING ELK CONDORS." He is eating some kind of microwaved snack gimmick.

We see BREN cutting up LIBERTY'S food diligently. She's wearing a football sweatshirt over a turtleneck, and sporting the classic Minnesota mom bouffant.

VANESSA opens the door. She's a pretty, meticulous woman in her early 30s. Very Banana Republic.

MARK LORING sits in the austere LIVING ROOM with a woman in a business suit. He is boyishly attractive and in his mid-30s. He rises immediately upon seeing Juno and Mac.

Do Wavers see how entertaining and yet information-specific these introductions are? Do Wavers see the specific word choices that Cody made in order to convey a feeling of each character? Their ages and what they are wearing is noted but equally as much the way they do things speaks VOLUMES.

Bren cuts up her younger daughter's food diligently. Not precisely. Not efficiently. Diligently. Writers are wordsmiths - which is why one of my biggest pet peeves is screenwriters who do not have a love of or facility with language. Diligent is different than precise. It's a subtle difference - well, not really - it's a shading. Diligence conveys duty while precision conveys efficiency. Diligence is a trait that connotes working hard and precision connotes control. Is Bren a controlling mother? Not in the least.

How much does: "...an artfully bedraggled burnout kid in a Catholic school uniform" convey about this main character? Not just bedraggled - artfully bedraggled. Not just artfully bedraggled but an artfully bedraggled burnout kid. Take away any one of these words and the picture shifts just slightly, doesn't it?

Or the detail that Bleeker "is eating some kind of microwaved snack gimmick." Not an apple. Not a muffin. A "microwaved snack gimmick." Which he is eating while standing on the porch.

Notice the fact that Mark Loring "rises immediately upon seeing Juno and Mac." He's polite. Or is he nervous?

I'm actually not the type who idolizes or mythologizes successful screenwriters, heaping them with super-human accolades - HOW did you THINK of that SCENE?? - but I know good writing when I see it. These character introductions of Cody's NAIL the characters; they are engaging and they smack of the tone and vibe of JUNO. I don't care who you are - Diablo Cody or Judy Henkstein from Nebraska - writing in an engaging, entertaining way is just good stuff and it's completely within your reach.

We talked yesterday about doing an action line pass on your script this week - seeking out and destroying various action line problems (too dense, too scattered, too detailed). How about this week at some point you go through your script, Wavers, and take a look at how you introduce your characters using the examples above as inspiration? If Cody can do it, you can do it. Lots of screenwriters can do it - it's not rocket science. It's having FUN when you introduce main characters. It's having FUN with the language you use. It's looking over your palette of word choices and choosing specific words to convey specific feelings. Which YOU and only YOU get to do. Because this is your story, Wavers. How do you want to tell it? How do you want me to feel when I read it?

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

Monday, March 2, 2009

Focused Rewriting: Action Lines

You're doing it all the time. Rewriting your script. They say that writing IS rewriting and I think this is self-evident. This is why we must not judge ourselves so harshly. Your writing can always improve. In the early stages of writing your script, mostly you just want to get it down on paper. Just get those pages going.

Rewriting is a necessary, fun and challenging part of improving those pages.

But it's easy to go back over pages and tweak them to death with no actual goal in mind. You start off by thinking - I'll just make this better. In fact, going over previous pages from where you left off can sometimes be a time-wasting way to avoid not writing the new pages you need to write. I know when I sit down to write, even if I left off on page 42, I start back at page one and read/skim the previous pages and of course make a few changes here and there before returning to page 42 and making that turn into page 48. Ain't nothin' wrong with that. But imagine the efficiency of doing a focused rewrite pass.

How about this week Wavers collectively do an Action Line Rewrite Pass?

Start on page one and go through the script with a laser focus and look at every single action line paragraph:

Are your action lines written in the present continuous tense? Harold is walking, is sitting, is loading his gun - NO NO NO - rather, Harold walks, or he sits or he loads his gun. Action lines should be written in the present simple tense.

Are there ANY typos, misspells or homophones? (two, too, they're, their, your, you're)

Are there any DENSE blocks of action lines? Screw up your eyes and look at your pages. Any block-like patterns? Seek out and destroy them.

Are there scattered action lines that interrupt virtually every line of dialogue? Seek and destroy.

Are you action lines as pithy and efficient as possible? REALLY as efficient as possible?

Have you chosen evocative words that suit the mood, tone and genre of your script?

Are there widows (single words occupying one whole line)?

Are characters described briefly yet effectively?

Are there sounds in your script, which help make the read more cinematic?

Is there a minimum of "business" in your script?

Are there repeated words you've used? Is there too much alliteration?

Go ahead. Start on page one and ask yourself if your script has any of these problems within the action lines. And spend a day or two improving upon these issues. It's good for your script, it's great exercise for you as a writer and once you really, really GET how to write great action lines, you'll never have to worry about it again. But it takes practice and repetition. It really does.

You see, your script can and might have any number of problems ranging from global to specific - structure, theme, logic or character issues - but bad action lines really are the KISS OF DEATH. Because when your action lines suck, then it follows, in a reader's mind, that your whole script sucks. Because action lines are the plate upon which your whole script is served up. I read a script the other day with a GREAT core premise - really, really fascinating. But the action lines absolutely blew the concept out of the water because they were so bad. Don't let this happen to you. There's no excuse when you have resources all around you instructing you how to do it right.

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

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Wherever We Go


So yesterday I spent the day at the UCLA Ronald Reagan Medical Center in the pediatric ward. The Mini-W has a dear friend who has been gravely ill. I don't say gravely lightly, either. I'll be there again today and again later this week. Hospitals are weird places and with another full hospital day ahead of me, I can't help but slide into my observational writer self. Hospitals are veritable hotbeds of character and place observations, aren't they?

The way the doctors seem to stride rather than walk, with their white coats billowing just slightly. The way some visitors are upset and crying, and others seem relieved. The way the nurses become slightly goddess-like because they bring comfort, information and relief. I saw two helper dogs yesterday. One was a huge white Newfoundland-looking dog, the other a playful Jack Terrier. People gathered around both with delight. I saw a woman outside on her cell phone, sobbing. I saw a woman pull her IV tree outside to have a smoke.

Hospitals have a visceral impact; they make one instantly feel a bit wound up and emotional. The atmosphere reminds one how very delicate life and health really is. This particular facility is rather new and looks like it cost about a billion dollars. Until you go upstairs to visit and then it looks like any other hospital. The pediatric ward is particularly difficult. Our friend is a teenager but the other rooms had toddlers and infants in them. And bewildered six-year olds. Some rooms are highly decorated and personalized because that kid has been there for a long time.

My daughter's friend came out of her heavily sedated state to observe, sleepily - "It smells like...Canada in here." We can only ascribe this comment to the effects of some serious medication but it brought a much needed moment of levity. Another moment of levity came when I asked a striding, billowing doctor where to find a particular part of the hospital and he kept right on striding, saying he really didn't know. That's okay, I said. Have a great day and save some lives! He turned and smiled wryly. Is that what I do? He was probably a podiatrist. I was instructed by my daughter to not talk to doctors anymore.

I don't do very well in hospital settings. It upsets me. It brings every anxiety right to the surface. I don't like the smell, the beeping machines, the seriousness of it all. The feeling of being on the razor's edge of life itself. It reminds me that the sunny world outside of the hospital is in some ways ignorant of that razor's edge reality that life can be precarious. It brings up fears - will I be in the hospital someday? Will I live through it? What if this were MY daughter? Would I be able to keep it together?

Actually last year it was my daughter and I held it together with an iron will. When it's YOU or YOUR family you really have no choice. You can fall apart later but not at the hospital. You must listen to the doctors, you must pay attention to what's going on. You must conquer your fear of the blinking lights, beeping machines and abject seriousness of it all.

If you were to write a scene set in a hospital, could you capture the complexity of the sights, sounds and emotions of that place? We drive past hospitals every day in our day-to-day lives. But inside those walls a whole different world is going on. One with its own culture, social constructs and mores. It's not something we often think about - until it's us or someone we love.

As writers, we are blessed with the ability and desire to write about the details of life. We are also cursed because even when we don't want to be observing - we are. We can't help it. I wondered about the doctors with their confident strides - do they feel like rock stars? Do they feel like imposters? They are just people, after all. But in that setting, in that white coat, they are elevated to something almost god-like by those who observe them. Every hospital room has a story. What got that patient there? Who is this patient? What is the prognosis? How is the family coping?

Writers carry around an invisible tool box. Every experience we have, we take notes silently and throw the experience into the hopper. Hospitals, football games, office parties - our own relationships. Have you ever had a fight - or even a joyful moment - with your significant other and thought - ooohhhhh this would be a great scene? I recently had a moment that would make a great comedy scene - a moment of great emotional intimacy that I ruined by making a joke. Well, I mean, ruined it for the man involved but I thought it was very funny. Casualty: one male ego was slightly bruised. Upside: That went right straight into the hopper. A version of that moment will appear in something I write, mark my words.

Writers are liars and thieves. We observe what goes on around us and we drink it all in for future writing purposes. Even when it's happening to us. We embellish to make the story more entertaining. Is the life-saving podiatrist a comedy down the line? Or one small piece of a character? How does Canada smell?

Have a lovely Sunday, Wavers, and here's a fist-bump from one writer to all of you writers out there. Observe, embellish, see and feel what's going on all around you, whether it's at the hospital, the video store or the line at the bank. Life is a moveable feast and it's our job to record it so that later, an audience member somewhere can have a much-needed belly laugh or maybe a really good cry. Our job is important.


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