Forgive me, Father...

We screenwriters are a funny breed. We’re awfully good about telling what we do well - we have to, in order to compete. The DIY generation has cornered the market on self-promotion.

What we’re not so great about is sharing what we don’t do well. God forgive the writer who admits to needing help in an area. Oh, the horror! The horror! Imperfection is seen as weakness, which translates to failure in the psyche of all things Hollywood. If we can’t discuss our weaknesses, we cannot improve them, so the problem becomes one of self-perpetuation, a Sisyphean-like existence, pushing the boulder of mediocrity up that hill, day in, day out, only to have it barreling down, crushing us under its weight, and then we start the task all over again.

In baseball, we revere players, who miss the ball seven times out of ten, with celebrity endorsements and multi-million dollar contracts. Why, then, are we so hard on artists?

I was working on my for hire yesterday, and began to ponder this quirk of very human nature. I went into shower (my method for generating the aha! moment), and realized that the solution might, just might, be absolution through confession.

Think about it – how much less powerful something is, once it is out there. To name it is to claim it, and by claiming it, you become the master instead of the slave.

Arnold Schwarzenegger is no Daniel Day-Lewis (please don’t ask me to discuss his politics, I’ll never be able to shut up). That being said, early in his career, he was able to identify his weaknesses, and then put forth Herculean effort, through hard work and discipline, to overcome these obstacles, and, by doing so, propelled himself into arguably one of the biggest box office draws of the latter part of the 20th century. He knew his dialect was unintelligible; he knew he could not act. He put in time – up to four hours a day – refining his speech and his skills, and it paid off.

All writers have talent. They would not be drawn to the craft if they did not. That being said, talent alone cannot sustain you. It’s the work, the hard work put into the craft, which distinguishes writer A (sales, hires and options) from writer B (still trying to complete script 1).

So, confession time. What is your weakness? What muscles need more flexing?

For me, it is a specific form of dialog, usually found in confrontation scenes. I find that, in my early drafts, I write these scenes with on the nose dialog. Absent of subtext and glaringly awful.

Within the rewrite process, I am slowly able to identify these moments, and cull through them, searching for the textual and sub-textual meaning behind each interchange. It is hard and it is frustrating. It is work. I can spend countless hours polishing a half page scene. I ride an emotional roller-coaster with these moments, often questioning my existence, my mental health, and why the f*ck I got into this crazy business in the first place.

That being said, there is nothing better when you have the breakthrough, when the great Aha! hits you like a ton of bricks. It’s better than chocolate. It’s better than cheese. And, if you create your Aha! moments as I do - in the shower - you’ll be clean and fresh as a daisy.

Confession time. What are your weaknesses? What muscles do you need to work out more? What process do you use to make this happen?

A friend and writer, Dan G., turned me onto a random logline generator.  He uses it to issue weekly challenges on his Yahoo! Group; I have begun to use it each morning to generate a logline and write a 1-2 page scene, dialog heavy, as an early morning workout. I allow myself one hour to write and refine, and then put the pages away until the next morning, so I may see what worked – and what didn’t – and use that data to help me move forward in the craft.

Writing is an art, and a craft. It is always in motion, never stagnant. The day you cease to learn, is the day you might consider a new day job.

~ HRH, Princess Scribe

TODAY'S ASSIGNMENT: Commit to your craft. Spend at least one hour each day flexing the muscles that need it. Do this the entire week - every day. Emails, message boards and blogging do not count.

Married To It

“Dear Princess Scribe:
Once upon a time, I had an idea for a story. It was a tantalizing tale, and I quickly found myself courting it; I’d take it out in public, introduce it to people. Soon, I realized that what I had was a most perfect story. It was time for me to take the plunge, and commit myself wholly and completely.

But now, three years and six drafts later, I fear that the magic is gone. I no longer wake with this story on my mind. Instead, I find myself thinking about other stories. Taking them out. Talking about them. Working out the beats; massaging the B-story. Do I move on, and embrace these new delicious loglines? Or do I remain faithful to the old ball and chain? What do I do to fall in love with my story again?

Yours,
Disloyal Servant”

Dear Disloyal:

Ah, the capricious nature of the adulterous scribe.

Writing is more than a craft. Writing is a commitment. Not unlike a marriage.

I repeat ~ writing is a commitment.

There are the obvious commitments, of course: time, money, energy, creation of your space. Then there is the single most important commitment – to STORY. Three years and six drafts?

Let’s take a gander at these numbers:

• LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE spent five years and close to a hundred drafts by different writers before production began
• CAPOTE took over seven years to go from conception to completion
• INSIDE MAN, also close to seven years, according to Gerwitz’s post-screening Q&A hosted by Creative Screenwriting

Tell me, my fickle friend, where would any of these stories be if their scribes were two-timing them? Chances are, they’d never see completion.

A conversation I recently had, with a writer, to whom I was giving counsel:

WRITER
See, I’m a little ADD. I mean, I have to have a bunch
of projects going on. I write a little on this one for
awhile, then I move to that one, and then I have...

He gestures to his Board

WRITER (CONT’D)
this over here...

PRINCESS SCRIBE
How is that working for you?

WRITER
Great! Just great! I mean, I’ve got four projects going.

PRINCESS SCRIBE
How many have you completed?

WRITER
Of these? Well, none, yet.

PRINCESS SCRIBE
Have you written other scripts?

WRITER
Yeah, sure. Six scripts, maybe seven.

PRINCESS SCRIBE
And how many of those have you completed?

A pause.

WRITER
(blank stare)
Completed?

Good lords and ladies of the court, I rest my case.

A story is like a marriage. You must commit to it, each and every day. Writers write. Each and every day.

There are days, of course, when you don’t feel the magic. Welcome to the world. Guess what? You still have to commit to it. Each and every day. Like a marriage, writing takes work. And you will find that, some days, you just have to do the work.

So, you’ve lost the spark? Instead of blaming your partner – your story – you might take a look inward and determine why that spark isn’t there. Self-sabotage? Fear of failure? Perhaps something as simple as structure gone bad – scenes in need of reorder, a misidentified protagonist, two stories competing in one script. Your ennui may be screaming to you, to wake up, open your eyes, take a step back and explore every nook and cranny of your story. Go back to the beginning. Meet your characters for the first time, all over again. Get to know your story’s world. Try dating your story; I assure you that spark is still there. It’s your job to find it.

You will not find the spark if you abandon your story.


The above being said, Princess Scribe does concede the necessity of managing multiple projects as a challenge in the life of the scribe. Princess finds herself doing the same; she writes spec scripts as she prefers to write her own lies. However, as Los Angeles is a far more costly kingdom than say, Madison, Wisconsin, HRH finds herself working for hire while working on her own material. This arrangement is not an adulterous one. Think of it, instead, as polygamy.
You are Bill Henrickson, and your stories are his wives. Simple time management:


HRH’s Ye Olde Calendar

Princess Scribe rises at 5:30. 7 to 8:30 am is devoted to physical and mental transformation through physical exertion. At 9 am, her workday begins with spec writes/rewrites. 11 am heralds time for other business, face time with clients, phone calls, coffee dates. 2 – 4 pm is devoted to work for hire or consultations.

So, my dear Disloyal Subject, Princess suggests that you resist the temptation to play the field. Instead, she would prefer that you step back, take a deep breath and assess your commitment to your craft – and to your story. Divorce is simple. Writing is not. If it was, everyone could do it.

~The Princess Scribe

TODAY’S ASSIGNMENT: Write a one page article on your story, and why you are not at completion. Take responsibility for your actions, and create a game plan to drive you to the finish line.

Recommended reads: “101 Habits of Highly Successful Screenwriters” by Karl Iglesias; “The War of Art” by Steven Pressfield; recommended site: The Business of Show Business Institute

Save the Cat! Uncaged

As you well know, Hollywood - and the film community at large - lost an unsung hero last week, when screenwriter/author/mentor Blake Snyder died of a pulmonary embolism at the age of 51.

Blake’s website has been flooded with tributes and comments, sharing the Tao of Blake - that which made him so special and unique - with the world.

Blake's death was the ultimate Catalyst in the publishing of this blog. Blake and I had many discussions about it - I emailed to him what I had planned to be my inaugural post, “Married to Your Story”. Five minutes later, my phone rang. I glanced at Caller ID, and answered:

“Bonjour! Comme-ce vas?”

“I LOVE THIS BLOG!!” he shouted. “Love it, love it, love it. Can I use it?”

Just a few weeks earlier, Blake was helping me with a rewrite on one of my script options. We were going over Act 2 … it needed to be taken up a notch, up to eleven, as Nigel Tufnel would say. Okay, to be honest, two notches. Maybe three.

Blake closed his eyes for a moment, and then:

“Aha! Move your Midpoint to the end of 2! Pile on the death moments! Bam, bam, bam! Now, all you have to do is rewrite Fun and Games!!”

I promptly shot him “the look”; he burst into laughter, and bounced out of the room telling Jose “I just got the stink eye!!" as he went on a quest for caffeine.

Blake was doing for me what he did for so many in Hollywood, quietly working, behind the scenes, helping me to shape my career, directing my work, even my life. He was more than a mentor to me; he was my great, great friend, and my life will never be the same without his presence. Jeremy Garelick recently said about Blake, "“Blake’s massive contribution to the movie business will be forever unknown…he’s the uncredited partner to countless screenwriters.”

Never were words more true.

Rather than write a traditional tribute in memory of Blake, I’ve decided to post about the phrase that started this whole movement, this reimagining of the story structure paradigm – Save the Cat!, and how deeply integral it is to the story building process.

What is “Save the Cat”? In its simplest form, it is that moment when, early on in the film, our hero/heroine takes some sort of action, like saving a little kitty, which makes us want to go along on the journey with them. On the blogsite Noveldog.com, there is a terrific illustration of this principle from the film HANG ‘EM HIGH:



However, Save the Cat! is more than a simple principle. Blake was no lightweight, he possessed a massive intellect, and no one understood structure better than he did. Save the Cat!, like all of Blake’s principles, contains depth and resonance … and deserves further exploration.

I recently read an article challenging the principle; the author believed that an audience need not “like” a hero. Fair enough, and agreed, but he missed the point. The Save the Cat! moment is not always crafted for an audience to like their hero. It can, instead, weave in a subtle whiff of empathy, of understanding for our character, using an action or moment taken that we can all relate to.

Let’s look at some Cat! moments, in which the Save the Cat! principle is firmly entrenched – and yet, so deftly woven in that you almost don’t know it is there:


SILENCE OF THE LAMBS
In the first few minutes of the film, Clarice Starling, our heroine, runs the gauntlet at the FBI training center. She’s called in to meet with her supervisor. She enters an elevator filled with huge, young, testosterone laden men. She looks quite tiny and vulnerable – this young woman in an impossibly male world. That’s your Save the Cat! moment. A glimpse into her soul. Vulnerability. That’s what it is all about.


JAWS
Following the teaser of the initial shark attack, we find Chief Martin Brody in bed with his wife. Through bits of dialogue, we discover that Brody has a pathological fear of water – and lives on an island. That duality within Brody is quite funny – and endears him to us immediately.


THE VIRGIN SUICIDES
One of my favorite films, THE VIRGIN SUICIDES is beautiful, complex study of the effects of sexual repression on adolescent girls. I’ll be blogging more about this film in the future. For now, I’ll limit remarks to a great Save the Cat! moment. Cecilia, the youngest of the virgins, has just attempted suicide. In the doctor’s office, the doctor says “What are you doing here, honey? You're not even old enough to know how bad life gets.” Cecilia replies “Obviously, Doctor, you’ve never been a 13-year old girl.” That bold smack of irony, that in your face moment bonds us to Cecilia, and through Cecilia, to all of the virgins.

THANK YOU FOR SMOKING
Anti-heroes are not immune to Save the Cat’s! claws. One of the challenges of a film such as THANK YOU FOR SMOKING is to take a reprehensible character – such as a snarky, self-congratulatory tobacco lobbyist also known as “Yuppy Mephistopholes” – and make the audience care enough about him to stay in their seats. We get a bit of a double bump here; number one, Nick Naylor is such an absolute over-the-top bullshitter, we can’t wait to see what he pulls next. What keeps us there, however, is a glimpse into his heart and soul. His son Joey has come over to stay for the weekend; the two watch a movie late at night. Joey stretches out and drowses, sprawled over his father like a contented pup. Nick oh-so-tenderly strokes his son’s hair. He truly loves this kid, and for that, we not only forgive him, we cheer him on.

And there it is. See? As Blake would say, “It’s EASY!”

WRITING ASSIGNMENT:
Create your own Save the Cat! moment. Establish a character and a set-up. Determine what it is about this character that will take us along for the ride. You can, of course, save a cat … or you can try for something subtle and layered. It's your story. You decide.

coming soon .... "Married to It"