5 Things to Watch Out For When Writing

ScriptXRay, an online resource dedicated to the exploration of and craft of screenwriting, recently posted an article on “TIPS: 5 Things Not to Include in Your Screenplay.” Of course, there are exceptions to every rule, but the five things listed are either going out of fashion or instantly mark a writer as an amateur. According to cj Rice and the gang over at ScriptXRay, writers should do everything they can to avoid:

1. Inserts
2. Micro-description
3. Capitalizing sound
4. Music
5. Camera direction

I won’t spend too much time breaking each of the five down, since you can read all about them here. However, I’d like to talk about a few of them as they relate to my own experience. The article defines micro-description as follows:

“You’ve heard of micromanagement, right? Not fun is it? Well screenwriters have their own form of this, and it’s called micro-description, and it forms when a screenwriter describes each and every movement, beat by beat, moment by moment, scene by scene.”

I’ll admit, I’ve been very guilty of this in the past, especially during the first and even second draft of my comic book style spec. At one point, I’d devoted an entire page to what would have amounted to maybe a ten second fight – if that. BIG no no. What was worse was that when I tried to address the issue, I went too far toward the other extreme, I guess what you could call “under-description” (from the term 'under management'). I remember actually writing, at one point during a fight scene, “He punches and kicks, is kicked and punched,” or something like that. AAAAGH!

I think that draft has been burned. Needless to say, I don’t do that anymore, either.

Finally, I just want to touch on capitalizing sound, since that’s something that’s been on my mind a lot recently. More and more, I read about how the industry, especially producers, is turning away from this practice. I still do it, not because I’m a rebel or I’m wedded to it, but because it’s what I was taught to do. It’s only been relatively recently that I’ve seen this brought up as a red flag – maybe it’s been discussed for years, only I just started hearing about it. I’d like to think that a perfect script would still get produced, even with capitalized SOUND. Have any of you readers heard more about the debate or experienced the impact of the trend? I’d be curious to know.

Again, check out the full article from ScriptXRay here.

Spike's New Joint Just Won't Hit

So Cake Man asked me to write a movie review for Miracle at St. Anna, the new Spike Lee joint. I haven't written a movie review since my high school newspaper days. Training Day was the last one if I remember correctly. I'm pretty sure I gave it a B+. I know, who scores movies with letter grades? I guess you could say it was fitting of the academic setting. But the review and score were fair I thought. You gotta love Denzel Washington. It would have been nice to see him in St. Anna. Not that he had to be the star or anything, maybe just a veteran soldier. I wouldn't be surprised if Spike asked, but to be honest, if he did ask, I don't think Denzel is kicking himself for not signing up.

Miracle at St. Anna is set during WWII and follows a group of four African-American soldiers who get separated from their unit and hold up in a small town in the Tuscany region of Italy. During their time there they befriend the locals, explore the reality that they are more accepted in a foreign country than in their own, and shepherd a boy whose eyes and soul bore witness to horrific events at the nearby town of St. Anna.

A common word I found in published and broadcast reviews of St. Anna is "meandering". I think use of the word is justified for two reasons. The first reason is that the movie has several awkward jumps in tone. One moment you are bearing witness to the horrors of war (I enjoyed Spike Lee taking time and care to show us dead African-American soldiers from WWII, a rare sight in film) and in another moment, seemingly without transition, you're torn between enjoying and disliking jovial, comical, and sometimes oddly spiritual banter between the main characters.

The second reason the flick wanders a bit is what I think hurts it the most. I wasn't prepared for a film that wasn't anchored more solidly to a story purpose for its characters. I won't compare it to other war movies, but I felt like the characters spent a great deal of time just hanging out, satisfied with the fact that they were representing something that had to this point been left unrepresented. I didn't necessarily need to see more gunplay or explosions, but something that would have gotten our characters to lock and load and set out to change their world. I immediately became more invested when the soldiers were given the difficult order of capturing a German soldier. The story manages to bring our main characters a German prisoner without them lifting a finger.

My next biggest gripe would have to be the score. At times it was spot on, but there were other moments where its trumpety sound almost felt like something out of classic James Bond. There were scenes that just became cartoonish, the serious energy sucked right out of it. I fond myself frequently wondering what the movie would have felt like with a different, or somewhat adjusted soundtrack.

Few other quick gripes. There were so many story elements, most of which I appreciated, but I definitely wanted a better allocation of time when it came to some. The framing story was paced well during the beginning, but deserved more time towards the end, a move that I felt would have been more rewarding to the audience. It was odd that it wasn't made clear who the protagonist from the framing story was once we moved to the war portion of the story. If you were paying close attention to detail it was there, but that was something I would expect any director to make pretty obvious up front. But then again my brother felt that it could have been intentional and part of the movie experience. I'm not sure I agree. Lastly, one of the big revelations, and the film treats it us such, came off as not so big. If you've seen the movie you know what I mean. Maybe I missed it. I hope I did.

Yeesh. Looking back on all this I wish I had spent more time talking about what I liked about the movie. I blame it on the league and all the time we spend in our meetings tearing our scripts apart. I will say this. Spike Lee set out to represent the WWII era African-American soldier on film. He did so boldly and admirably, but you can't help but get the sense as you go along that Spike is stepping way out of his element. A part of me just wishes that Spike didn't have to be the one forced to step up to do the job that nobody else seemed willing to do. WWII is one of the most molested and prodded subject matters in history. Its examination extends deep into literature, art, music, video games, and film. It's a little sad that some elements (and not only African-American soldiers) still go largely unrepresented. I could give an example, but I'm hoping it will be my breakthrough script a few years from now. Spike did his part, and I hope writers and directors down the road will do theirs. We should see a great story first, before seeing the color or gender attached.

What are you reading? Week 3: Goodbye Harry Bosch, hello ex-junkie journalist bio

Last week, I was in the midst of finishing off The Narrows, another Michael Connelly Harry Bosch novel that also featured guest appearances by some of his non-Bosch novel characters, most notably FBI Agent Rachel Walling and -- to a degree that I won't reveal because it's spoiler-y -- retired FBI Agent Terry McCaleb. Since then, I've plowed through the rest of The Narrows and finished off Connelly's remaining three Bosch novels, The Closers, Echo Park and The Overlook. I won't go into overly detailed reviews of the three, not because they weren't good, but because I'm more interested in talking about the book I'm reading now.

Of the three, Echo Park was by far the most enjoyable and readable, with the other two serving as functional but not remarkably outstanding Bosch adventures. The Overlook, which was originally published in serialized form in The New York Times Magazine clocked it at barely under 300 pages, which is fairly light for a Connelly book, and read more like it was setting up Bosch's new status quo (new partner, new assignment, old love interest) than really telling an exciting or thrilling adventure. Don't get me wrong -- I enjoyed all three books a great deal. But, if I had to choose which of the three came closest to some of my personal Bosch favorites (Concrete Blonde, Lost Light, A Darkness More Than Night and, to a degree, The Narrows), it'd probably be Echo.

But after finishing The Overlook I found myself without a new Bosch book to read, which allowed me -- for the first time in a few months -- the opportunity to take a detour outside of the crime fiction/detective genre and work out some of the reading muscles that got lazy while I read about forensics and private eyes.

The first book I went to was David Carr's The Night of the Gun. David Carr, as some of you may know, is a columnist for The New York Times. Most importantly, though, Carr is also a recovering crack cocaine addict. The Night of the Gun tells the horrible, gruesome tale of his descent into addiction. The unique part of the memoir, though, is that Carr actually went back and spoke to the people who he interacted with during his time as a junkie failure -- the woman who gave birth to his twin daughters while both of them were daily crack fiends, the well-known comedian who once tried to gouge Carr's eye out because he was nagging the funnyman about a coke debt and the dealer who Carr went to score from while his twin, four-month old daughters waited in the car. In the winter. In Minnesota.



Truly jarring stuff, but Carr doesn't hold anything back in the telling and gives his interview subjects ample room to be critical and brutally honest about the author. And, in the process, you see how Carr himself has changed, but also how he is being changed by the process of re-living his life. Imagine waking up one day and realizing that, no, you're not the nice person you thought you were. Yeah, those two years you don't really remember? Well, you beat up women, drank and drugged to extreme excess, got arrested over a dozen times and failed at five stints in rehab. The story Carr tells, and the journalistic tools he uses to tell them paint a picture of a man who didn't reclaim his life because he's a great person -- although, from what I can tell, he became a better man -- but because of luck, and because he had caring friends and family. I'm only about 200 pages into the book, so I imagine there's more to be revealed. A friend of mine (who lent me the book) said there'll be at least one jaw-dropping moment toward the end. Which is somewhat frightening, because the pages I've already read have left me oftentimes with mouth agape and my eyes wide. I can't recommend this book any more. But enough of that.

What are you reading?

Ok, Guys: What movie made you cry?

If you're a manly man, and I mean a real MANLY man like yours truly, then you don't cry at the movies. Oh, it's okay for a manly man to cry in some situations, such as when your favorite football team is the St. Louis Rams or when your arm is broken but you're too proud to tag out of the wrestling match. Or if you're eating a really, really hot chicken wing (I know those aren't real tears). I'd also accept a tear or two when you run our of beer during a Dirty Harry marathon. But crying during sad movies? Your beard was not invented to collect tears, son.

There is one exception to this rule. Manly Men are allowed one flier - each Man has one movie that hits them in their weak spot. (Not THAT weak spot.) Once in a lifetime there'll be a movie that just strikes a certain chord with a man. When it does, he'll be blubbering like a baby. Because these movies are usually Braveheart or one of the Godfather films, you can cry during them without losing any of your Man Cred.

This all stems from Film School Rejects' Mr. Hand posting a list of movies that made him cry. I'm not one to cast judgment, but, dude: Titanic? Moulin Rouge? You don't just admit that stuff.

So what movie makes your humble blogger, the manly (strong, handsome, not-afraid-to-die, etc) Zombie cry?

Let's get a big-ol' John Bonham drum roll, please.

Zombie's tearjerker movie is:

Transformers: The Movie (1986)


If you've seen it, you know the scene I'm talking about. The whole movie has a body count roughly equal to your average John Woo/Chow Yun Fat flick, but the one death that's the granddaddy of them all: the death of brave, badass Autobot leader, Optimus Prime. The Optimus Prime of the 1980s wasn't the watered-down version we got in the (pretty good) 2007 movie - the cartoon Prime was all kick-ass all the time.

I'm including a clip, in case you're uninitiated or just need a refresher course in awesome. I'm going to set it up, like they do on Late Night. In the movie, Autobot City is just getting their shit ruined in a surprise attack by the Decepticons. Optimus Prime arrives on the scene and just kills the hell out of about fifty of the bad guys without breaking a robo-sweat. Then he goes to stomp out Megatron (the Transformer equivalent of Shooter McGavin) and right before he's about to strike the killing blow, rookie dumbass Hot Rod gets in the way and Megatron gets in a nasty, unfair hit our hero just can't recover from.

What you're about to see here, folks, is the saddest, most gripping death scene ever filmed. Just watch and understand:



What the hell, really?? How is it okay for a kid to see that? A kid that probably went to the movie wearing an Optimus Prime t-shirt and holding his action figure? And when his lights go out and he turns all gray at the end?? What the hell?

I remember spending lots of afternoons crumpled into a fetal position on the couch, a crushed child mourning the loss of his robot hero. Some children first learned about death and mourning from Mr. Hooper on Sesame Street; I learned it from Optimus, Ironhide, Wheeljack and crew. That last shot of Daniel Witwicky crying before it fades to black? I was Daniel Witwicky. We all were Daniel Witwicky.

So now I'm throwing this all out to you on the World Wide Web: what movies made you tear up? Is it A Better Tomorrow? Maybe Rocky IV? Or possibly Terminator 2? This question goes out to all of the Manly Men and the lovely ladies in our audience.

On collaborating with other writers

Over at his blog, prolific novelist Dean Wesley Smith tackles a subject that I'm sure every writer (prose, screen, whatever) has pondered to some degree: collaborating with another writer on a project.

In addition to noting that collaboration can take many forms (on most assignments, Smith doesn't even interact directly with his co-writer), Smith also offers up some words of warning and advice:

Now some words of warning about collaborations Unless you can find a writer at your same level, who complements you perfectly in style and likes and dislikes, there is no logical reason on the planet to collaborate. None. Write the book yourself. It is easier.

And if I can’t stop you, then for heaven’s sake, have a contract between the two of you before either of you write word one. A very good contract that states who is responsible for final drafts, who gets do the work of marketing, who gets to do the work of proofs and copy edits if the book sells, and things like that. And how to split the money exactly. You will thank me later.

Now, how do I keep others out of my work when collaborating? Sometimes it’s easy. Sometimes collaborations such as the book with David that I mentioned are original novels. With Jonathan Frakes, all I had was a cover and wrote a book around the cover. Other times, it’s not possible to keep the other writer out completely, such as the book I am working on now where the other author wrote the entire first half and then had an issue so I stepped in. The key is realizing how much exactly the other author will be involved when you go into a project. And know what you are capable of doing and not capable of doing in writing situations.

Check out the full post, which is fairly lengthy to read about Smith's other writing experiences, including co-writing a number of books with his wife. Pretty interesting stuff.

But, this post begs the question: Have you collaborated with another writer? How did that experience turn out? What ground rules would you suggest?

The Writing Week part 39 - Eat, Sleep, Breathe It

I’ve experienced a dramatic shift in my approach to screenwriting. I can’t quite explain why or what happened. Yet in the past two weeks, and very dramatically this past week, screenwriting has been, by far, the number one thing on my mind. I climb in bed and remain awake for hours thinking about a script I’m working on. I wake up on weekends and spend a solid few hours in my room rewriting my spec and researching industry happenings before I even make breakfast. After breakfast, I hit the computer for another couple of hours. And Zombie, who is unfortunate enough to live with me, can guarantee that he’ll have to listen to at least an hour and a half of screenwriting talk each day.

As I said, I don’t really know what brought about the change. Perhaps it’s the fact that I think my rewrites are going well. There are some changes that the League was hinting at (and outright telling me to do), which I finally saw in the golden light of necessity. It could be that all my recent research into management companies and script sales has lit a fire under me. Maybe I have this newfound (and much appreciated) drive because of the numerous talks we’ve all been having about this blog and our writing projects. Whatever the case may be, I actually stressed so much about a scene the other night that not only did I keep myself awake, I started to feel physically sick. (And you know what, I was happy when I woke up and that scene was the first thing on my mind again.)

Ok, that probably sounds a bit masochistic. The point is, though, that I think the desire to write and to make it as a screenwriter comes not only from writing. (The following is one of those really obvious facts that everyone tells you but you have to experience for yourself to really learn.) In order to really make it and break into the industry, you have to want it so badly that you’ll work 24/7 at it. I told Zombie that I’ve been spending much more time concentrating on screenwriting than work or anything else lately. In fact, I probably put in close to 10 hours a day – especially this weekend –writing, reading material, following sales and box office info, writing, researching, posting here, and writing.

I only wish the days were longer.

A Must Read Interview for Emerging Writers

Earlier this week, while I was taking a “mini” break from work at my day job to do something important, something screenwriting related, I scrolled over to Done Deal Pro. I was guided my desire to learn about more management companies to query. At the time, I hadn’t registered for Done Deal’s year-long subscription, so I couldn’t get too far in once I accessed the site. (An aside, I do plan on subscribing to Done Deal Pro – and very well might by the time you read this – not only for the information about agencies/managers, but because I know far less about what’s selling now than I should. At roughly $24 a year, half the cost of a competition, it’s worth it to me.)

One thing I was able to read without having a login and password was an interview with Ryan Condal, who broke into the industry earlier this year with the sale of his spec, Galahad. Condal, who is now penning an adaptation of Warren Ellis’ Ocean, was just like most of us here in The League – someone whose day job didn’t quite cut it for them and who wrote in his spare time, with hopes of Hollywood. He's also not that much older than my fellow Leaguers and I, which is no small boost of encouragement.

This is a great interview for all writers to check out, but I strongly encourage young and emerging talent to read it in its entirety. It’s a bit long, but it covers everything from how Condal first got into writing, through how he got noticed, how he got representation, how he made that first sale, and what life has been like for him since. It even goes into a short discussion on managers vs. agents. vs. lawyers. This is a perfect "how to" about what to do once you've got that spec you know is ready to go out and are wondering how to get to what lies ahead (and what lies ahead).

There are currently 7 League members, and we all write things that are wildly different from one another. As individuals, however, though we like to explore different genres, we tend to remain consistent stylistically and thematically. We all have our strengths and genres that we’re better at, no matter how much we try to break out of those at times. Sometimes we fight so hard to try something new that we lose sight of our strengths. Condal talks about this, being “branded” or sticking to your genre, in a very interesting way:

I think [being a branded or “tent pole” writer] is really important for serious writers to key on. What do you love to write? If you had to write one "type" of movie for the rest of your life, what would that be? Notice for me, I’m writing Ocean, a sci-fi actioner and Hercules, a Bronze Age sword ‘n’ sandal epic. Seemingly different, but inherently the same—big, expensive "tent pole" movies with a big world and big cast of characters. So there is a huge amount of diversity available to me inside my "brand." I know writers hate feeling pigeon-holed but (a) you should only be so lucky to be pigeon-holed—it means you’re getting paid—and (b) you need to accept it as a universal truth, embrace
it and use it to your advantage.

You can read the entire interview here.

Until we’re at Condal’s point, in the immortal words of LoKor, “write on!”