Archive for the ‘mailbag’ Category

From the Mailbag

Thursday, June 10th, 20102010-06-10T21:35:09Zl, F jS, Y

Dear Julie – have I told you how beautiful you are lately? How graceful and lithe? How very, very intelligent and gifted? And while we’re at it, is that a new hair cut? Wow. All I can say is where do you get it done??

Whoops, sorry. Fantasy question/letter there.

Dear Julie:

My script which i want to send in has one of the characters singing the song ‘ain’t no mountain high enough’ (which has been sung by so many artists). Now. Do i have to get permission from the original artist, asking permission if i may use their song in my script for the competition? And, if i use a Celebrity’s name in my script eg: Nia Vardalos, do i have to ask ‘Nia’ for permission if i may use her name in my script for the competition?

-Nervous in Nagletown, TX

Dear Nervous –

Few things. Yes, “Ain’t No Mountain” has been sung by so many artists. So rethink the use of it on the originality factor alone. Secondly, no you do not need to get permission to have it in the SCRIPT. Permissions would have to be obtained to use it in the movie but that’s not your problem to handle. The reason you don’t need permission to have the song lyrics in your script is that you are not selling the script or the lyrics in it for compensation – yet. When that time comes, again, not your problem. The song may very well be changed in the development process anyway. But do reconsider that particular song just for originality’s sake.

Nice use of e.g., well done. No you don’t need to get permission to mention a celebrity in a script. I can say Obama 10 times right here, or Gore Vidal or George Harrison. Barbara Eden – see, it’s all good. However, make sure that the reason your character is mentioning Nia Vardalos is in context in your script. Is it critical to mention THAT actor rather than someone like her? What is the purpose of the use of her name? That would be my question.

A Few Bad Apples

Wednesday, May 12th, 20102010-05-12T15:33:36Zl, F jS, Y

…don’t ruin the whole bunch! That’s what my mom used to say and she was right.

The other day, as I sat having lunch in the sunny commissary on the Lot, someone told me of a business model designed to bilk writers out of tens of thousands of dollars and as I listened, my eyes grew wide. W-h-a-t? How can people live with themselves? I was aghast. I still am. And there are numerous similar scams all over not only Hollywood but the world, designed to take your money, trade on your dreams and laugh all the way to the bank.

But there are also honest people looking for good content. Many more of those types, in fact, than the former. And because I have content, I get approached very frequently, by directors and producers looking for something good. All. The. Time. Let me re-emphasize that. ALL. THE. TIME. It has become quite interesting to me to see who walks through the door wanting content. I think my company and I look like a vending machine full of candy is what I think. Because we are. You writers, your scripts and your ideas are like candy to those passionate about creating content.

Just yesterday I had a meeting with a director and co-owner of a production company who happens to be a neighbor here on the Lot. He’s nobody famous but he’s quite talented and has worked with some names. Like me, he is looking to get some thrillers made and is passionate about film.  As we talked about writers, scripts and what is out there, the excitement grew in the room. How FUN it is to know how much untapped talent is out there, waiting to be discovered! How JOYFUL to think of the movies that could be made from this wealth of imagination!

For every bad apple who is selling some doohickey or gimmick or service you don’t need (I’m telling you, this other one was a WHOPPER deserving of a 60 Minutes episode. I’d divulge who and what it is but it’s someone so far off the beaten track I don’t think you’d run across him), there are other people who are quite serious, who have integrity and who are simply looking for YOU and your great script.

But how do you know? In fact, we got this from the mailbag the other day:

...a pretty big (not huge, not so small no one’s heard of them) production company has taken a shine to my [competition winning] script and has worked with me on detailed notes to rewrite the thing three times.  They’ve sent great notes, given great feedback, and I’ve spoken to them on the phone once.  They enjoy the original concept…we’re just refining it to fit their tastes and bring out a few different flavors (namely, they took a dark comedy and turned it into a quirky romantic comedy).

I like them, I enjoy their notes and don’t find anything they recommend offensive…but I’ve just sent the third rewrite in and I’m wondering…at this point…how much more should I do for free?

I don’t have an agent (NOT for a lack of trying), and I’d honestly just be writing for free anyway if they hadn’t contacted me.  And while there hasn’t been any direct talk of buying anything, they have said things along the lines of “We wouldn’t be wasting our time on something we didn’t want to pursue.”

Since I’m not one of those people who has a second cousin working as a PA in Hollywood, I don’t really have anyone else to ask about this…and since you tend to give straight answers on your blog, I figured I’d see if you had any advice.

-Rewriting Rita in Redlands

Well, Rita, thanks for playing today because you have asked a great question – one that I get asked pretty frequently. Let me start by congratulating you on the interest of this production company. That is already something to be proud of. If you feel in your gut (and by verifying their credits) that this is a company on the up and up, and if you are having fun and learning through these rewrites (and you are learning) I would turn in the next draft and ask them if they have an intention to option the material from you. Optioning a piece of material to a production company for however little is not a bad problem to have.

There are some that proclaim from the heavens that having an option TIES UP the script, oh lord! Well, yeah, it does, but refusing to option to a company that you have a very good feeling about is like walking down the buffet line, refusing to take one nibble, thinking there’s going to be a huge pot of the most amazing food EVER at the end of the line. You keep sliding your tray forward, refusing to taste this or that, only saving room for the BIG APPLE PIE  in the end only to find that…it wasn’t there. Only lime jello today.

If you came to my nascent production company, with no credits and no big dollars with which to option, could you immediately assume that I have nefarious plans to screw you over or could you assume that I WON’T get that hedge fund money after my meeting next week or that I CAN’T pull my relationships together to package your script? No. You can’t be sure any of these things will or will not happen. But they could. And no, I seriously do not have time to read your script, sit with you, develop the script and then do this three times (and mind you, you aren’t my only project) if I don’t smell the crackle of bacon when it comes to you and your script.

So my advice? Conclude wherever you are with these people and then politely ask what the next step might be. Whether they plan to option and put on their slate or what. They won’t be surprised you’ve asked and you won’t be the least bit out of line to ask it. Just don’t ask apologetically; never do that. Ask with integrity because you are (as I happen to know) a very gifted writer.

That is all. Now get back to work! Mama wants pie!

From the Mailbag: Origins of Hollywood Structure

Sunday, April 11th, 20102010-04-12T00:56:32Zl, F jS, Y

How long do you think the 12-sequence/hero’s journey type screenplay structure has been around — and how much of it would you say is embedded within the ancient Greek universals of storytelling, versus simply being our own cultural expectations after seeing so many movies? How did the Hollywood story structure evolve, basically?

-Daniel in Delaware

That is such an interesting question, Daniel! We know that the three act structure is Greek in genesis and has borne out to be the standard ever since. One could also say (as Joseph Campbell and later, Christopher Vogler did) that the heroe’s journey is even older still, dating back to the earliest epic poems and stories of the beginning of recorded history. The oldest recorded of these is the epic poem Gilgamesh.

We also know that opera, in its original incarnation, was a wildly interactive form of entertainment in which audiences often threw fruit and other items when pleased or displeased. Talk about feedback! Traveling shows with puppets and magicians had to change up the entertainment at a rapid pace in order to keep audiences from walking off to another part of the village or the faire – entertainment was, for the entertainers, no laughing matter!

The breakdown of the three acts in films into smaller units or sequences dates back to the very first silent films, which were on small reels and had to be changed every 10 minutes or so. Theaters wanted audiences to stick around to watch the whole film, so each reel would end with a tiny little cliffhanger. Over time, audiences became accustomed to that rhythm of entertainment consumption, which dovetailed perfectly with the advent of television, when advertisers needed the small breaks to sell their wares.

Over time, as our collective ADD has mushroomed, and with so many things competing for our attention, writers have to keep the entertainment coming more than ever. Breaking your script down into sequences is a way of ensuring that you are creating set-ups, complications, reversals and resolutions that keep and hold attention.

From the Mailbag

Wednesday, February 17th, 20102010-02-17T20:24:32Zl, F jS, Y

Dear Julie,

I got notes from someone who said that I should name all of my characters, even people who just appear in crowd scenes. What is your opinion on that?

Signed,

Citizen #1 in Chicago

Dear Citizen #1.

Er…Whats-your-bucket. Er, Dear Sir. Or Whatever.

No. Don’t do that. When you name a character, I have to pay attention to that character because you have just unwittingly indicated to me he or she is of some consequence. See, when you’re a reader, you’re scanning pages very quickly and your brain is lighting up like a Lite Brite as various information is being calculated at an astonishing pace:

-is this effing entertaining?

-who’s that guy?

-whoa, what did THAT dialogue allude to?

-THAT was a cool setpiece!

-what is the theme?

-this is getting dull, where’s the turning point?

-who is Bob and why has he not turned up again for 15 pages?

-what in the heck motivated the thing with the leeches?!

-I’m hungry

-I should do laundry

-No, finish the script first, you slacker!

-But I’m really hungry!

So when we have those ancillary characters like CITIZENS or CROWD MEMBERS or STUDENTS or PROTESTERS and you need to differentiate between a few of them, I find it more efficacious to simply describe them thusly:

FAT CITIZEN

BEARDED CITIZEN

ANGRY CITIZEN

SHY CITIZEN

When you give the characters descriptors, I get a quick, easy visual so that your intention – that among a SEA of many, a few stand out – is not only nailed but like, NAILED because now I get a quick snapshot of those faces. Numbers don’t have the same effect unless you’re that A BEAUTIFUL MIND Mind guy but whatever.

CITIZEN #1

CITIZEN #2

CITIZEN #3

See, I didn’t even employ any dialogue and your eyes are glazing over. My eyes glazed over just typing that. I still cannot see a thing. I am typing by touch. Having been forced to take typing lessons in high school by my high-aiming parents. Oh, digression.

So there you have it – it is MY opinion that giving anonymous members of a crowd descriptors to distinguish them just a little is more effective than numbering them and certainly better than naming them because when I see:

LEONARD

WALTER

MATHILDA

…I think, okay I need to keep track of these people; they have names, thus they must have great significance and matter far beyond this page.

1 Comment | Category: mailbag

From the Mailbag

Sunday, February 7th, 20102010-02-07T21:22:04Zl, F jS, Y

Just stumbled upon your site a few days ago. What a great resource. I could spend a week here and just skim the surface.

I’m new to this and I’m putting feelers out there, looking for some guidance. If you’ve got a minute, I sure would appreciate any advice you’ve got. If you think it worthy, feel free to post my question and (hopefully) your response up on your site for others to share.

Backstory
Moved to LA a year ago. Lucked out: got some writing in the hands of a small, but successful production company (movies, documentaries, commercials, some big, some small)…Initially they wanted a writer to develop a web-series with them. They liked my concept and my first 25 pages so much that we scrapped the web and decided to go for TV. They got some investors to put a decent amount of $$ into a 10 minute promotional (pitch) trailer, which we’ve filmed and is currently in post. First draft is in. Done, done and done!! Woohoo…. In a month, they’re going to try and sell it. They have the access and the contacts. So, off it goes.

Question:

Now what?

I’m not naive. I know odds are it won’t get picked up.

If it does: awesome!

Worst case: I have a great writing sample. Sahweet!

Ok, more backstory:

It’s my only writing sample.

I moved here a year ago, after working the past two years in SF as an editorial & copy writer. Prior to that I was a grad student, a hobo in Europe, a teacher and an undergrad. I didn’t study writing, I studied Economics..anyway..I’m 31. I feel too old for an assistant job at an agency, but from what I’ve gathered, that’s where contacts are made..invitations to work in writers rooms are given, and most important: steady paychecks are signed. I’ve also gathered that many won’t hire you if its clear that your goal is to become a writer. So, if I apply, my resume basically says I’m well-educated, and have worked for the past three years as a (albeit not a screenwriter) but a writer. Why would they believe otherwise. That, and I’m a terrible liar. And don’t want to, and don’t feel that I should have to lie about my intentions.

I know I should keep writing for the screen, and am. I’ve got a few great contacts and we have loglines for other show ideas on the desks of Development types..but who knows where those will go.

Now what? part 2

I have my one writing sample: a TV pilot script complete with logs for each episode of two seasons, character breakdowns and all the other collateral. Its good. I think so, the producer thinks so, and the handful of professional writers I’ve shown it to think its good, and ready to be shown to an agent.

But, I’m not convinced. Should I start opening those doors with only one writing sample? Let’s assume that its an excellent piece of writing. Even then, is it enough to land an agent? And if I do, are they really going to go to bat for me with one sample?

My ideas are this:

1) Try and get on as a freelance story analyst, writing coverages. Get paydirt, hopefully that opens doors. Does that work?

2) Assist a writer. This would be ideal. I would learn a couple of things, I’m sure, the hours would be flexible, and well, this would be awesome. How do I go about doing that. Knock on doors?

3) Work in a warehouse. Write another pilot, a spec, maybe a feature on the side and in two years start shopping myself around.

So, there it is. Thanks again for your time. Any help is much appreciated
-Lost in La-La Land

Dear Lost:

You have a very high class problem. You have a good script that’s gotten some traction and attention. Good on you! You also have very sharp instincts; one good script is not nearly enough. An agent or manager would most likely not even consider signing a writer with one script. Reps need to ascertain that you have legs, so to speak. More talent where that came from, in other words. A good pony. A good apple in every bite. And so on.

ESPECIALLY in today’s climate of low spec sales and tight jobs.

Yes, doing reading can indeed open doors and is a GREAT way to learn more about the art, craft and business of screenwriting. But that’s not a job one just – does. You have to get some practice in and have samples to show potential employers. New readers often wind up reading for free or for VERY little money. Competition season is coming up which is good for you – you may want to contact the Blue Cat Screenwriting Competition, run by my friend and colleague Gordy Hoffman. Gordy gives a lot of new readers a good start. The Silver Screenwriting Competition – mine – prefers to hire more seasoned readers. But so does Sundance so that’s neither here nor there. It’s a great way to break in, reading for competitions.

Being a writer’s assistant would of course be quite ideal. But it is also an extremely sought after and rare position to land. Knock on doors, yes, but I think that is something you really need relationships to land. You may want to check Craig’s List and Mandy.com for job listings. You’ll probably have to start off much lower than a vaunted writer’s assistant. Believe it or not, that’s pretty high up there in the scheme of things. Not to be discouraging at ALL. But you may have to slow down a bit. But it’s a great goal and I encourage you to really get out there and meet other writers and industry types with the aim of eventually landing an assistant job. And you’re still gonna need more than one writing sample.

Well – what kind of warehouse? I kid. YES, your number three is something you should combine with everything I’ve said here. Again, your instincts are right on.

Trust me, at age 31, you are NOT too old to work as an assistant or PA. This normal for LA, kiddo. NO, that you have aspirations to be a writer won’t necessarily be a problem. I would put more emphasis, when interviewing, on your general interest in learning the business though. AND you write. See how I combined that there? Like sweet n sour, boy-o. You are more than correct that working as an assistant is a PLUM way to create lasting relationships and opportunities.

I think you know exactly what you need to do. I’m so glad you enjoy the blog.

That is all. Now get back to work.

No Comments | Category: mailbag

From the Mailbag

Thursday, January 14th, 20102010-01-15T00:04:30Zl, F jS, Y

This is a great question I received from an Effer who’d read this advice:

“When you’re writing a horror/thriller, there’s a very fine line between maintaining a sense of mystery and the unknown and frustrating the hell out of the reader.”

-and thought OH holy shit! What does that even MEAN?

Sorry for the delay in answering, B., life, she has been crazy lately. But I digress.

Horror/thriller is one of my favorite genres. This statement or piece of advice is actually very, very sound although it may sound obtuse out of context.  When whomever said  this part: “…maintaining a sense of mystery and the uknown…” they are referring to both the narrative and the action lines that describe it. In other words, making sure that the story unfolds in a pleasingly mysterious way so that a build is occurring in the events you are depicting. You may remember WHAT LIES BENEATH, a thriller that I thought was really fun. If you watch the movie again you’ll notice a very artful and subtle build up of the increasingly creepy events AND a general creepy atmosphere with a (Hitchcockian) cinematic focus on water. Water dripping from the bathtub faucet, water streaking down the window panes, water lapping at the edge of the lake. Like the composer of a symphony, the writer both moved the story forward AND did so in a way that built up a sense of dread.

And there, friends, is the key phrase, I think, when writing specifically thriller. CREEPING DREAD is one of those very primal human emotions. Why, I am now reading a script which I am loving, absolutely LOVING which starts off with a really happy family in a cabin by a lake in the 30s. Gramma, Grandpa, the whole nine yards. It’s j-u-s-t short of treacly except for a very subtle sense of building dread the writer layered in.  And with every page of happy normalcy, the dread grows because the writer was very artful and we just know some kind of bubble is going to burst horribly. The writer has the water GLINT off the lake outside in the moonlight, rather than say, sparkle. It’s what we see outside the windows while the family is inside that is mildly disturbing. It’s all just a little off-kilter and it’s primarily done through word choices in the action lines (hello, exercise we did the other day, right?!).

So building a sense of mystery and dread in a horror/thriller is a KEY element to pulling off the genre but this is the cream cheese frosting on an already sturdy carrot cake with raisins that… man, I didn’t have lunch. Sorry.

In other words, B., this advice you read could actually apply to almost any genre if one listens to the main message in it. Let’s replay the tape:

“When you’re writing a horror/thriller, there’s a very fine line between maintaining a sense of mystery and the unknown and frustrating the hell out of the reader.”

Okay now let’s play it forward again in plain-speak:

Make sure to set up a really cool, genre-appropriate atmosphere and tone in your script but also make sure interesting stuff HAPPENS in a really EFFING ENTERTAINING WAY.

Make sense?

No Comments | Category: mailbag

Hey Jealousy

Sunday, September 27th, 20092009-09-28T02:45:08Zl, F jS, Y

Yesterday I received an email addressed not only to me, but to several of my colleagues – which, you know, normally, I’d say hey whoa there, Hoss, spamming screenwriting consultants en masse is a little tacky – but the question was so heartfelt, sincere and relevant that I thought I’d take a moment to address it.

Here’s the email:

I have something that is eating me inside.
How does one deal with jealously when friends and enemies option/sell their script
In my circle of writer friends this jealousy thing is getting ugly….
People are saying bad things and” beating” each other on blog forums.
Jealousy, its so difficult to control…
Is this part of the human condition as writers?
How does one deal with it?

Signed, Jealous in Jakarta

*****

Ah, jealousy among writers. I know it well. Believe me, I’ve felt that green-eyed monster rise up with me more than once, and I’ve both seen it affect writers I know personally and infect anonymous writers on message boards like a veritable 28 Days Later. Why, my former writing partner recently experienced some wonderful news and (along with some congratulations, to be fair) was attacked on a message board by a few jealous/angry sorts who didn’t think the good news qualified as actual good news and couldn’t let it go. I’ve seen that type of thing on message boards more times than I care to recall and it turns my stomach. I think you can tell by now, Wavers, that I consider message boards the spawning ground of sewage and demons.

But I digress.

Jealousy is a naturally occuring side effect of having a scarcity mentality – if YOU have experienced a success, that must mean there’s less success to go around for me! You got the last one! It’s Lord Of The Flies! Gimme that coconut or I will smite the crap out of you!!

Jealousy raises terrible questions. Am I talented? Am I important? Am I sexy? Will I succeed? If SHE got repped at a great agent, does that make me lesser? If HE sold a script, does that mean I no longer can hang out on this message board and be taken seriously? If SHE won that competition, is she a better writer than I? Why do I suddenly feel stupid and inadequate? Have I been wasting my time writing all these years? Boil, boil, rumble, rumble – and out comes that monster, dead set on defending your ego at all costs.

Jealousy knows no boundaries and takes no sides. If my friend gets married, I fear maybe there’s less love in this world for me. If you buy a new car, I worry that I won’t be able to do the same and my car will break down. If my cousin gets a dream job promotion, I get scared I’ll never get out of my crappy job, which I hate.  And because we humans will do just about anything to avoid feeling bad, we turn that fear outward – into bitterness and jealousy. We gossip, we attack, we judge, hell – we’ll juggle fighting weasels with machetes in their paws before we’ll just sit with the terrible feeling that maybe we can’t have what we want or need.

But here’s the thing – you can. Yes, there is enough love, validation and value for each and every person on this planet. What? Love and validation? I’m talking about cold, hard dollars! I’m talking about Beemers and red carpets and golden trophies! Waitta sec, sister, a scarcity mentality is exactly what you should have in the entertainment industry! There are hundreds of thousands of writers trying to break in and only a few dozen slots available – ever. That’s scarcity! Well – yes. But that’s not the attitude to take. Because I’m not talking about whether or not you will experience “success” as a writer as defined by a sale, option or produced film.

The ugly truth is maybe a fraction of 1% of the readership of this blog will EVER option or sell a script. EVER. That’s the truth. And that’s being generous. But does that mean you are not a “successful” writer? I heartily think not.

Success is taking pride and joy in what you do. Success is the journey, it is the effort, it is your arc as a writer and how that writing adds depth and beauty to your life. Ahhh baloney! A sale is a sale, you new age hippy mama with a macramé butter churn!

Okay. You can define success for yourself. But know ahead of time that defining success by “winning” is a losing proposition. There are plenty of sold writers and highly paid producers and actors in Hollywood who are living up in the hills in their mansions right now who are absolutely miserable, lonely and lost. Sounds great, huh? I think if there’s one thing the loss of Blake Snyder shows us it’s that life is precious and unpredictable.

If someone has a success – a competition win, an option or a sale – take that as a sign that it can be done. Use the success of others to inspire you to work harder, finish that script, follow that dream. Because bathing in the poisonous stink of jealousy will indeed eat away at you inside. It will corrupt the very creativity that flows in your veins and splashes out onto the page when you write.

Go back to the central nature of why you write. Is it to impress other people online? Is it to show your folks, friends or spouse that the time you spend writing is valuable? No. You write because you can’t not write. You write because you have been seduced by the medium of the cinema and you dream about having your story grace the silver screen. You don’t write for anyone else, you write because writing is an expression of joy, passion and vision. Eff everybody else and their successes. Good for them. Raise your cup of coffee in salute – and get back to your own writing.

So my advice, Jealous in Jakarta, would be to 1) not hang around with angry, bitter, jealous types  because their bile will infect you, 2) do not hang around on message boards where these people hang out, and 3) do not fall under the tempting spell of the crazy-nasty-red-hot-gotta-scratch-it urge to be ugly and jealous yourself.

It feels sooooo good for a few minutes. Or maybe even a few days. That script sucked! That writer isn’t really that good at all! That’s not a REAL option! That manager isn’t that great! I heard that producer is a loser from Serbia! Okay. Do you feel any better now? Probably not. You probably feel like your heart is just a couple of sizes too small.

If you feel jealous, take a deep breath and sit with the feeling for a moment. Articulate it. Shit, Bob got an option, and I suddenly worry I’ve been wasting all these years and I’ve GOT to get a real job one of these days and [insert random, stream-of-consciousness worry here]. Okay, those are all valid feelings. So what are you gonna do, quit? Become an angry, bitter, ugly person and throw some coconuts at Bob? Or how about sit your ass back down and get back to work like a pro and maybe make some of your killer spaghetti sauce later?

If someone attacks you and tries to tear you down online, don’t take it personally. It’s truly, truly not about you. Anybody with a computer can sit in the privacy of their very own damp basement and hurl insults anonymously. But remember this – actual, thoughtful, intelligent, reasonable people do not act in this way. Online bullies only exist insofar as you choose to focus your attention on them – they are in the ether – quite literally. And the minute you turn off your computer and walk away, their pointless ranting drifts into nothingness.

Where would you like to choose to put your attention and focus? On all the great things about your writing and your life? Or (irrationally) on how someone else’s success could undermine all that? On online bullies who are lost in a sea of anger and futility? Or on mentors and friends and blogs that inspire you and make you a better person?

When one little fishy swims over the dam, give a cheer because that fish just proved it’s possible. But don’t forget – there’s a big scary lake on the other side of that dam and no guarantees. So don’t idealize success either. It’s all relative – dams, fish, success, happiness. Do what you have to do to be happy and wish others well. That kind of generosity of spirit and fearlessness will come back at you like a boomerang – you just watch.

*I just can’t seem to break old habits. If you’re new to this blog – long story – just go with it.

14 Comments | Category: mailbag

Networking in Los Angeles

Monday, March 30th, 20092009-03-30T16:05:00Zl, F jS, Y

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.

The Fresh Idea Race

Thursday, March 12th, 20092009-03-12T16:09:00Zl, F jS, Y

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.

The Page Count Clinic

Tuesday, January 6th, 20092009-01-06T18:36:00Zl, F jS, Y


Good morning, Wavers! I inexplicably slept for 10 hours last night. I have no idea why so I just count my blessings that my lifestyle gives me the latitude to do that and get on with my day.

Ahem. Onward.

A commenter on yesterday’s post wondered why BENJAMIN BUTTON appears to have a very loose structure and, I assume, intimated that we should not be as concerned with getting structure right when there are (truly) so many exceptions. Yes, there are many exceptions to the rule. But until or unless you have made it – are repped, are pitching, are sold or selling – you MUST understand exactly how structure works and you must demonstrate this in your writing. Exceptions are no excuse not to know exactly what you’re doing in the now. Aspiring screenwriters are like nascent cooks – you must stick to the recipe in order to learn. Once you’ve made it over the moat that separates aspiring writers from paid ones – then and only then can you begin to put the recipe book down and vary from it when it comes to things like structure. Yesterday’s discussion of structure was a rudimentary one – of course there are all sorts of jumping off points.

Additionally, before we get to today’s topic, one cannot know what went on in the production of a major motion picture unless one was there. The script may have been tightly structured but somewhere in development, decisions were made to add more and bigger set pieces that plumped the structure up until it is what it currently is – pretty free form. Or not. We have no way of knowing unless we can ask that question directly of the writer. One can spend all day every day finding exceptions. Aspiring screenwriters trying to break in don’t have the luxury of stepping off with new and wacky structural techniques. You need to show a rep or producer that you have basic screenwriting craft down cold before you start popping wheelies.

So on to the topic of the day: The Page Count Clinic

Another commenter said: Do you have any suggestions for reining in runaway page count, other than the obvious of scene chopping solution?

Yeah, no, I dunno. Good luck with that.

Wait, I’m getting too cavalier lately. Forgive my insouciance. Yes, there are a few things you can do to cut down on page count. When I write, I never, ever worry about page count in the early stages. I don’t care if my whole script, from fade in to fade out has 72 pages. That gives me room to expand and add more set pieces and more character development. I don’t worry if my script has 132 pages either – that’s an opportunity to take what I have and distill it into sharper, more powerful pages.

So when you have too many pages that’s the opportunity begging to be had. Distilling 10 okay pages into five GREAT pages.

There are two fundamental ways to approach reducing your page count – reviewing each SCENE for relevance and then reviewing each and every PAGE to see where you can cut a line of dialogue, two lines of action, etc.

SCENEWORK
When it comes to each scene, do the scene test: Does this scene contain a relevant beat? Does this scene concurrently develop character? Does this scene contain the thematic undertones of your premise? Does this scene, in other words, absolutely carry its weight and earn its spot in the script? Think of yourself as the captain of a ship loading up to head out to sea – is this scene necessary? Does it earn the spot on the ship? Or is it ballast that can be tossed because it will only weigh the ship down?

PAGEWORK
Once you’re confident that every scene is absolutely necessary, go over every single page and look for ANY opportunity to reduce your action lines from three lines to two. Are there entire action lines that break up dialogue between characters? Are you over-directing the characters, in other words? Is there another way your character can express his or her thoughts in half the dialogue? Is your character actually repeating him or herself? In the same way that grapes are stomped down into a pulp which will ferment into wine, pages can be s-q-u-e-e-z-e-d down into more powerful stuff too.

Something I like to do which seems a bit arbitrary is to say to a writer – okay lose 10 pages off this script. I don’t care where, I don’t care how, just do it. And to a one, the writer comes back aglow with accomplishment and sleeker, faster, more powerful pages.

Just given that marching order with no parameters is empowering because when it comes right down to it, it’s not rocket science to look at your pages and see where the fat is.

So you may want to try that first – just take 10 pages out of your script. Open that sucker up and go. If that feels daunting or directionless, try reducing pages using the following steps:

Do a structure check: Are your act breaks falling on or about pages 10, 25, 50 and 75? How far off are they? Remember, this is a ratio based on the Golden 100 Page Script. Is the ratio about right? If there are 50 pages between act breaks, you have now pinpointed where the problem is in your script. So focus on that section.

Do a scene review: go through each and every scene and ask it these questions: What’s your name and where are you from? Well, no, maybe like: What is the BEAT in this scene? Is there one? Does this scene absolutely and without question move the story forward? Does it develop and reveal more about your character? And ideally – does it do both? Does this scene jump in late and get out early? Could the scene move a long even a little faster?

Do a global page reduction: Go through every single page and find any and all lines that can be cut. Anything. Dialogue, action lines – nothing is safe. Go pithier. Use more powerful, evocative words. The sun shines down on this suburban neighborhood. Dogs bark, children play and the mailman makes his rounds – which is not bad – might then become: Another sunny day in this family neighborhood; kids play, dogs bark. – We lost seven words in the second example. Maybe we don’t need the mailman. Or do we? Go through every single action and ask – what is really important to point out here? Is the word ‘suburban’ really critical? Or does ‘family’ do the job? That’s your call. But I guarantee that you will find TONS of things you can reduce just slightly. Writers tend to overwrite and over direct scenes. Strip each scene down to the bare bones using words that deliver the feeling and imagery important to the scene but that literally take up less space.

Depending on where you are as a writer – the global page reduction method is probably the best way to cut down on pages. You’d be surprised – even the most advanced writer can always find extraneous stuff on his or her pages. Newer writers are more likely to have scenes that are not necessary at all. If you’re not sure where to begin, I’d follow the steps above in that order without worrying about what your total page count should then be. Just follow the steps and then check in again. Did you lose 10 pages or so?

If you have to lose more than 10 pages you either have a problem with the structure full stop or you have a major issue with overwriting pages.

If you have 10 pages or less to lose, you probably just need to trim action and dialogue on your pages.

Writing IS rewriting. I love trimming pages because it’s not a punishment, it’s a challenge. How can I make what’s here work BETTER than ever before? It’s like chipping away at the marble to reveal a finer, more beautiful image. It is making wine from grapes, it is squeezing the – okay I’ve run out of weird metaphors but you get it.

In general, as a rule of thumb*, I always like to shoot for the Golden 100 Page Script. If you’re writing comedy, romcom, thriller or horror, this page count is actually pretty sweet. If you’re writing scifi, fantasy or drama, you might wind up with 110 pages. If your script has over 115 pages, you need to pull the car over and see what’s going on. It might be fine but it also might be your clarion call to write sleeker, more powerful pages. No matter what your page count, you can always produce better pages than the ones you currently have. I guarantee that. In fact, that’s a whole other blog post – when to STOP tweaking!

*stuff it, Anonymous.*

*This seems like a good time to explain my “stuff it, Anonymous” disclaimers. A couple or three times a week I get comments or emails from disgruntled Have-to-be-Righters who tell me how WRONG I am. Everything on the Rouge Wave is from MY perspective and MY experience. Anyone who takes what I say as gospel should have his head examined. These are all suggestions and advice. Do what you will. Do what works for you.