Bite The Bullet

My thesis professor once told me that he always gives his script to his wife because he knows she'll be flat out honest with him and tell him what's working and what's bullshit. I've always been a little hesitant to give my writing to my girlfriend. I'm not worried about how much she knows about screenwriting. She knows enough about the craft and is more involved with the entertainment industry than I am right now. There's just something about getting criticism from the person I wake up next to that scares me from time to time. I can deal with her being frustrated with my choice of tv shows, or with my wastefulness of faucet water, but her being frustrated with my screenwriting is often more than I'm willing to deal with. I usually opt not to fight my battles so close to home, but sometimes you just have to bite the bullet. I did more than bite the bullet. I put the gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger, and in a Fight Club kind of way, I feel like it saved my life.

A few months ago I was feeling none too thrilled about life. My girlfriend was feeling more like a roommate, she was making strides in the industry while I sputtered, the lease on my interest in my job was expiring, writing was slow, and my closest work friend and confidant was leaving the office to face her unknown destiny. I tried to fall back on my writing and completed two first acts to two different scripts. I enjoyed the concepts and hope to return to them, but the pages weren't fulfilling. I did something I've never done before. I abandoned my 200 million dollar concepts, dug real deep to get to the marshmallow of my personal emotions, and poured it all out into a minuscule budgeted, character driven script. It was a different animal. Those closest to me would be able to point at specific characters and events and say "Wait, I know that." It was the most personal thing I've written to date, a 90 pager about a recent grad who begins to question his current path and the relationships surrounding him after experiencing a traumatic work incident. So much of this script stemmed from feelings towards my girlfriend, some positive (love, admiration), and some not so positive (jealousy, envy). Even though the script was a work of fiction, it would hit home with her and had the potential to cause wounds. I felt it would be an extreme one way or another. Either she would be pretty upset and uncomfortable that I could write something like this without her having any knowledge of the process or content, or she would appreciate the invitation into parts of my life and value what I had chosen to share with her and what I had been able to create from those feelings. Despite some cautioning from the league, I gave her the script.

Around 10pm last night I got a voicemail from her stating that she'd read my script and she wanted to talk about it. Oh no. She can't even wait until she gets home from her late night commercial shoot to tell me how awkward she feels. In perfect dramatic fashion I couldn't make out the second half of the message. "I hate you" jumped through my mind, but it turns out it was "I love it." In our five years together I've been fortunate enough to get my fair share of "I love you", but this was the first "I love it", pertaining to a screenplay. I called her and we talked on the phone for half an hour about the script until she absolutely had to get back to work. I can't remember a time we talked for half an hour on the phone, and I can't remember a time she felt so strongly about one of my screenplays. You have to factor in the emotional connection to the material, but it was more than that. The discussion was surprisingly less personal but rather focused on the script as a story and how it might play out on film. I was so excited and relieved, because it just wouldn't have been fair to me to love the script as much as I did and have her not enjoy it.

In writing my untitled piece I not only got back on track with my writing, but I had put myself through self therapy and was feeling healthier. I felt better about my relationship with my girlfriend, my job situation (used to be a fatal tailspin, now just a loss of cabin pressure), and my emotions concerning my friend who had moved on. On top of that, I now have a very affordable, character driven script that I'm confident is pretty good. Lucky for me I get the league verdict on that later tonight at our next meeting.

I love the league and respect their opinions, but this might be the one I put my foot down with. I feel like I wrote it the way I wanted to write it and the way it needed to be written. There were so many moments when I felt the urge to make traditional screenwriting choices, things that would crank up the drama and solidify structure. But each time I tried to make those choices I felt like I was betraying the script and losing the human element that made it real. There are a few elements I'm open to changing, but I will most likely be stubborn as a mule regarding the vast majority of edits. That stubbornness might not make the script better, but maybe it will. Right now it doesn't matter, because I feel I've completed something more important than material.

Site Alert - Writers Store: The 11 Laws of Great Storytelling

An email with a link to the following article just popped into my Gmail account (now that Gmail is back up and running, that is): The 11 Laws of Great Storytelling by Jeffrey Hirschberg.

Most of these are pretty rudimentary, but they're good to have all down together. Obviously, there are other things that all writers should be aware of, also. But for the purposes of this blog - i.e. aiding aspiring writers -it's a worthwhile read. Hirschberg takes readers through the following 11 key reminders/pointers (with my summary and thoughts in italics):

1. Assume everyone has ADD

Hardly anyone is going to devote their precious time to reading a script that doesn't instantly captivate them. Their phones will ring; they'll get emails; they'll be at home trying to get their kids to bed. Hook them, and keep them hooked, or their eyes will wander from your script to something more interesting, and you can consider that opportunity blown.

2. Spend most of your time on the first ten pages of your script

Most readers and acquisitions people will tell you that you get 10 pages to reel them in. Within that ten, not only do readers learn who the protagonist is, the world the script takes place in, and what happens that launches the protagonist's upcoming journey, but they get a good sense of a writer's ability. If a writer doesn't wow the reader in those first ten pages, then the remaining 110 pages look like a chore, and the opportunity is often blown.

3. Write roles to attract movie stars

This one is good to keep in mind if you want to write major Hollywood blockbusters. Most male action stars don't want to look especially weak or vulnerable or afraid on screen, so trying to get Tom Cruise to play a guy who is afraid of butterflies - unless it's a comedy - is not likely to happen. Personally, I wouldn't rank this #3 out of 11. Yes, you'll want a star to get your $80 million budget financed, but don't sacrifice what you want to do for that. Especially if you're not looking to break the bank. A number of League members have written great scripts with no celebrity in mind.

4. Write economically

You only get so many pages. Don't clutter them with unnecessary description and excessive dialogue. That doesn't mean skimp on either. My rule of thumb is that I try to keep most blocks of action/description to three lines (Hirschberg says five). This keeps action moving. Short but sharp descriptions urge the reader forward, keep their eyes on your script, and make it a page turner. All good.

5. Make sure every character has a unique voice

If everyone sounds the same, your reader will get lost. In a strong script, a reader will breeze over slugg lines and character names marking dialogue, because both will be obvious from the description of the scene's setting and the character's voice.

6. Understand your audience

Hirschberg means both the reader/agent/producer/manager you're submitting to and the target audience for the intended film. When agents send scripts to production companies, they know who they're targeting. They won't send your comedy to the guy who mostly does horror, and they certainly won't send your bloody horror spec to the family films people. Likewise, your horror film better be scary to the high schoolers its intended for. Want to blow another opportunity: send a horror spec that might scare a three year old - if that - to the people who acquire family films.

7. Know your three-act structure

The reader/manager/agent/producer knows it, and they'll be looking for it, especially if they don't know you. New and unproduced writers have got to show they know the basics. While there are always exceptions to any rule, it's not really a great idea for new writers to try to scrap three-act structure for something more experimental. If you can do it and do it well, though, then my hat's off to you.

8. Be aware of theme, and keep it consistent throughout the script

Ever seen a comedy that turns really dark and almost scary half way through? Were you surprised and disappointed when that happened? Readers have the same reaction to scripts that do the same thing. That doesn't mean a comedy can't get dark, but remember that it's still a comedy. Even in the darker parts.

9. Watch and re-watch successful movies similar to your story

You're writing a movie about gladiators. Watch Gladiator and take notes. Why was Gladiator so good? Why did it get made? And what can you do in your script to make sure it's not a Gladiator rip-off. Same token: you're writing a revenge script; watch Gladiator of Man on Fire and outline them. Where does the betrayal come in? How does it unfold form there? When does the final showdown come into play?

10. Know what your hero wants (the goal), what happens if he doesn’t get what he wants (the stakes), and who/what is preventing him from getting what he wants (the villain)

Screenwriting 101. Set the stakes high. If your hero is a low-income high school football player who needs to get an A on his math test, make sure we care that he gets it. If failure to get the A means he doesn't get into the college that's giving him a full ride, that's a big deal. If not getting the A means that his parents are mad and he'll go to a different school, we care less.

11. Leave them wanting more

Hirschberg doesn't mean set up a sequel (though most producers/managers I've spoken to about my action specs look for sequel potential). What he means is that your reader should wish there were more pages, because they couldn't get enough of your story and your writing. They want to see more, and since there isn't more, they want to a) see this script become a move and b) see what else you have.

Visit the Writers Store to read the full article, which is actually an excerpt from Jeffrey Hirschberg’s recent book: “Reflections of the Shadow: Creating Memorable Heroes and Villains for Film and TV.”

The Writing Week (Vol. 2) part 87 - Ahead of Schedule for the Competitve September Spec Market

When last I spoke to my producer and manager, we agreed that I would get them what is hopefully the last rewrite by September 1st. That's tomorrow.

The more I focused on the job ahead of me, the less daunting the task seemed. The larger rewrites shrunk as things clicked more and more. Before I knew it, I was targeting August 26th for my final rewrites and giving myself the 27th and 28th to re-read everything before sending. On Friday the 28th, I shot the "final" major rewrite for this stage of the script off to the producer and the manager.

This process has taught me a few things, and reminded me of others. For one, it's great to have a deadline. I usually approach rewrites by starting with a very cursory grammar and spelling check. That gets the ball rolling on prepping myself for making some actual changes. With a tight deadline, though, the comfort of doing those superficial (and sometimes meaningless, once scenes are cut) changes is gone. Only having time to focus on the actual rewrites with one proofing round at the end forces attention. I usually try to avoid the meat of a rewrite as long as possible, but this week, it was all business all the time.

Another thing I've been thinking about a lot is deadlines. September 1st was a nice round deadline. Many production companies end their year in August, so I'm told, and have little to no cash left for acquiring material then. Come September, though, their bank accounts are open again (so-to-speak) and the buying begins. Add to that the fact that most execs and VPs take their vacation in August, and September becomes a highly competitive time in the spec market. It's our goal to be a part of the competition this year. It was my goal to make that as much of a reality as possible, so I pushed myself to beat the deadline and give the producer and manager more time to read and, therefore, give myself more time for any final tweaks they feel necessary.

That brings me to the last point. Though this will hopefully sound intuitive to most of you, re-reading your material is essential. And I'm not just talking about for typos and grammar - if you don't reread for editing purposes, though, you should probably re-think your career choice. It's important to go through for other reasons, too. Did you make every single change you meant to? If you cut a character, did you cut him/her everywhere, or does their name pop up somewhere. Same with changing a character or location name. Make sure the old is fully flushed away. Also, depending on your method of sending - do you email your contacts scripts in Movie Magic, Final Draft, or pdf format - check the final version. I once sent Onyx a pdf created from Movie Magic, which I use, only to discover that 5 pages had been corrupted. I now scan every single page before sending anything out.

These things might seem small and very "Screenwriting 101," but at a certain point, they become just as important as the content on the page. Make sure the presentation is as flawless as can be, and take the extra hour or so to do so.

Wtf is Up With the Number 9?

Is it just me, or does it seem like 9 is everywhere these days? I started wondering this when I first saw a preview for 9. Set in a future where humanity is screwed, 9 little doll-like things run around and fight machines. Or something. In addition to that one, Daniel Day-Lewis (a personal favorite actor of mine), just wrapped shooting NINE, a film adaptation of the 1982 Broadway musical.

Before that, there was the hardly watched (though I both tuned in and enjoyed) THE NINE, which ran on ABC for a short-lived 13 episodes. The plot - 9 people are held hostage during a bank robbery; something (which, had the show lasted longer, viewers would have found out) happens that creates some very weird character dynamics between those involved.

Some other imdb fiddling brings up a handful of other, sometimes lesser known 9 titles. NINE LIVES (2005) chronicled events in the lives of nine women. In 2000, there was NINE - a psychological thriller by Jane Shepard that I've never heard of. 9 SOULS is a Japanese prison break movie from 2003.

Then, just today, just a few minutes ago, I clicked on over to Done Deal Pro. What is the very second logline I see?

Title: I Am Number Four
Logline: A group of nine aliens flee to Earth, disguised as teenagers, when their home planet is destroyed.
Writer: Al Gough, Mils Millar

More number 9! What is it about nine that makes the number so special? Nine circles of hell. Nine choirs of angels. Nine as a perfect number in Hinduism. Nine innings in a baseball game. Nine planets (when I was a kid) in our solar system. Nine as a purity grading scale for metals?

I just don't get it. Maybe it's all a coincidence. Look out vampires, Nine is the new Twilight.

Casting jitters

Pick one. Hearing actors read one of your characters for the first time is:

A) Exciting
B) Creepy
C) Both

We started auditions for katie55 over the weekend. This is the first time I've heard anyone besides myself read any of the script aloud - let alone anyone with a real background in acting. It's an exciting and unnerving experience.

When I say unnerving, I'm referring to the odd feeling of hearing familiar words coming from an unfamiliar face. I'm watching these girls read and I can't help but think "those are MY lines - why are YOU saying them?" Once that initial shock subsides, it's quite exhilarating to see your characters start to come to life.

We've seen our first batch of actors, and will be screen another batch soon. Then, it's time to make some serious decisions...

Screen Alert: Inglourious Basterds - Basterdizing History (In A Good Way)

*SPOILER WARNING*

Major spoilers discussed throughout the entire post.

Last Sunday, after a rave review from Zombie and mounting curiosity/excitement throughout the summer, I treated myself to an early morning screening of Quentin Tarantino's latest film, INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS. I was glad I went early, because even though it was before noon, there was not one seat to spare in the theater. It's no surprise BASTERDS opened at nearly 38 million.

For those who (somehow) don't know, BASTERDS is treated to Tarantino's signature over-the-top yet slightly humorous (at times) violence. Set in World War II, BASTERDS might just be the most acceptable setting for the gore that Tarantino rewards audiences with. The increasingly visible Brad Pitt (or am I the only one who feels like he's been popping up in movies a lot more in recent years) plays Aldo Raine, a U.S. Army lieutenant who assembles a squad for one reason and one reason only, "killin' Nazis." The hook? The squad is comprised entirely of Jewish soldiers, and to them, the war is personal; they're out for blood.

BASTERDS is one of Tarantino's most linear films, if not the most linear. Sure, he still jumps around a little here and there. While certain characters don't meet up until almost the last hour of the nearly three hour picture, everything seems to be happening chronologically, for the most part. However, my interest now isn't so much to review the film - you can find a ton of reviews online, many of which praise BASTERDS - but to analyze a key part of the ending.

To set the final scene, the orphaned Shosanna Dreyfus owns and operates a movie theater in France. The sole remaining member of her Jewish family, she has a deep rooted hatred for SS Colonel Hans Landa, the man responsible for her family's death. When she finds out that her theater has been chosen to host a premier of a new Nazi propaganda film, she concocts a plan. Burn the theater down with over 350 Nazis - including the top man himself, Hitler - trapped inside.

As the action built, I found myself starting to squirm in the seat. She had such a good plan. Top it off, the Basterds got involved. Overkill (literally). But how, I wondered, was Hitler going to escape sure death? I've been so programmed by historical fact that it never once crossed my mind that Hitler might... dare I say it... die onscreen from anything other than the suicide we know he actually went from. Then, it happened. Eli Roth - "The Bear Jew" stormed Hitler's balcony while the fuhrer was watching the movie and shot him. Dead. To pieces. Not only had Hitler been killed, but it was an unceremonious death. He stood up, got shot, and went down. It was only when The Bear Jew shoots his corpse that we even get a close up on Hitler.

Wow. Hitler killed on screen. I hadn't seen it coming. Then I got to thinking, has that happened before? I've seen some films based on his actual last days - like the amazing DOWNFALL - but I can't recall any movies where he's been blown away like that. I thought it was great. Yes, we got to see Hitler get his, but more than that, my expectations were completely shattered. I honestly wonder now if we can expect to see more movies do this - blatantly buck historical fact for a more gratifying ending. Part of me definitely hopes so. I was apparently way off on my expectations with BASTERDS' loyalty to certain historical facts (not that I thought the film was rooted in accuracy in any way). For the ending I didn't see coming, Tarantino gets my kudos (if he ever wants it, that is).

The Writing Week (Vol. 2) part 86 – Does Page Count Really Matter?

If you go back and read the archival Writing Weeks and some of our other more writing-centric posts, you’ll probably see a lot of talk about page count. We also talk about it a lot amongst ourselves in the League; “what page are you on?” “Do you think 85 pages is too short?” and that sort of thing. Sometimes, the discussion seems to lean so heavily toward page count and position that I wonder if we’re proving ourselves to be amateurishly focused on the wrong thing.

When we Leaguers were in school, we were taught basic three-act structure. A script is (supposed to be) 120 pages long. Act One is 30 pages long; Act Two is the next 60, and Act Three is the final 30 pages. Even while we were in school, I remember noticing a collective shift away from a 30 page third act. If a script came in at 105 pages, chances are Acts One and Two were pretty true to form, but Act Three was shortened. I actually don’t know if I’ve written a 30 page Third Act in years. Probably haven’t. And of course, depending on the genre, a script might be as short as 90 pages. I personally still aim for a 25/50/25 percent act balance when writing, no matter the page length. (Disclaimer before I go on, I know a lot of people have abandoned act structure for the sequencing method; I haven’t yet, so apologies to anyone who isn’t a fan of Three Act Structure.)

Last night, after working with notes from my producer and manager on the post-Apocalyptic spec, my perfectly nailed 30 page first act dropped to 25. I got to thinking, does that really matter? The five pages of cuts I made speed the story up, eliminate some of the darker and more macabre elements that were making this a tough sale earlier, and get to the heart of the plot much faster. Bottom line, they’re hard to disagree with. Yet, my first act is under what I normally consider to be a full Act One.

Ultimately, I think that the answer is: page count (in situations like this) doesn’t really matter as long as the script is strong. Act One is generally thought to be between 25 and 30 pages, with those being the respective lower and higher markers. The reason I bring it up, though, is that as a reader, I remember looking specifically for that big plot point right on 30. A bit before? Ok. Too much before; well, we might have to talk about this. Similarly with screenwriting competitions; I’ve entered at least one competition where part of the grading criteria listed on the website specifically mentions Act One ending on page 30.

As writers, page count shouldn’t seem like the end all and be all, but there’s enough out there to support my theory that within at least certain parts of the industry, the 30 page first act is still sacred, and to violate that could mean a step closer to disheartening rejection. My advice – know what the industry standard is (not only for page count, but for formatting and any technical part of the craft) and where you can and can’t bend that.
As a new writer, i.e. an unproduced one, I’m already enough of a risk. If I break all the rules in my first industry spec, and especially if I fail when trying to break new ground by abandoning the standards, then I’m not doing myself any favors. Page count does matter, and while it’s not the first thing worth focusing on, it is very much a part of League discussions because it’s something we have to be aware of and is elemental to further displaying our knowledge of the craft.