Keeping the lines of communication open

uhura
Starfleet’s emergency backup plan for when Skype’s not working

Since signing with my manager earlier this year, our back-and-forth emails had somewhat dwindled. It seemed to be taking longer to hear back, and even those brief messages were less than encouraging.

Despite working on the new spec scripts, this, combined with my overactive imagination and requisite writer’s self-doubt, made me convinced that nobody was interested in the script.

And I mean nobody.

*Side note – want to feel even worse about yourself? Seek the opinions of those on a public forum. I think I’m truly done with that.

I needed to do something, which turned out to be sending my manager an email asking if he was available to talk.

Best thing I could have done.

I explained to him how I was feeling frustrated about not knowing what was going on, and asked if there was anything I else I could do to help move things along (apart from keep writing).

He totally understood, apologized for being incommunicado, and gave me the update – who the script had been sent to, including several studios and production companies. One studio had passed, another was still reading it, and somebody at a prodco really liked it and wanted to see what else I had.

We also discussed getting the new specs to him, the potential of one of them with a well-known production company and how he was adding a staffer who’d be more in the middle of all the action.

This ten-minute conversation was able to wash away all my self-doubt, inadequacy and just plain lousyness.

It’s hard enough to get representation, but once you do, it’s not all up to them. These people are busy, so it’s easy for you to fall off their radar. You have to be the one to remind them you’re still there. Don’t be afraid to ask “can we talk?”.

If you have questions or concerns, ask them. As I mentioned, it’s all too easy to let your imagination run wild and start generating counterproductive thoughts. The occasional update chat is the best way to stay positive and keep yourself focused.

Seeking the feng shui-ness of your script

A place for everything, and everything in its place
A place for everything, and everything in its place

Got some great notes for my western spec. Some of the suggestions involve significant moments I hadn’t considered – now I have to figure out where these should take place. A daunting task indeed, but also not too challenging.

It’s one thing to plot out a story, but knowing how to do it effectively is a little more complicated.

You can’t just throw stuff in there and hope it sticks. Information has to be doled out appropriately so it not only fleshes out the characters, strengthens and advances the story and the plot, and most importantly, keeps the reader/audience interested.

If you’ve put together a solid outline (as you should before moving on to pages), all the help you need is right there in front of you. Take a look at how your story develops. Do things happen the way you want them to, and do they happen when you want them to?

As you work your way forward, are you seeing potential opportunities for where something could be added or possibly changed? Would that scene from way back near the beginning work better somewhere later on?

Once you find somewhere that scene could go, is it a good fit within the flow of how the story’s developing? Does it keep that forward momentum going while providing us with some kind of necessary information?

Take the time to figure these kinds of things out. It may be frustrating now, but once you work your way through it, you’ll have a better script and wonder what it was you were so worried about.

Pause, think, act – OR – What’s the rush?

One wrong step is all it takes to mess everything up
One wrong step is all it takes to mess everything up

As nice as it would be for everybody to get on the ball and work within our timeframes, it just doesn’t work that way. Waiting is truly a necessary evil in this business.

In our overeagerness to get things moving, sometimes poor judgment prevails, despite a pre-established conscious effort – “I’ve seen other people make these stupid mistakes, but that’s not going to happen to me.”

I hate to break it to you, but in one way or another, yeah, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

But we learn from experience, and move forward, knowing what not to do.

Most of the time.

The spectre of “act first, think second” can still rear its ugly head when we’re least expecting it.

You send out your latest draft, only to then see all those typos you forgot to fix. That query letter to an agent has the wrong name in it. Things of that nature.

Yes, you want to get things moving, but if you don’t slow down and take a good, hard look at your material, then you’re defeating yourself before you even start.

“But this is perfect!” you protest. “It’s ready to go!”

According to you, maybe. Many’s the time I thought my latest draft was the definitive final one, only to find out from outside sources how it could be better.

Don’t think something has to get out right now. It’s going to take time to get a response, let alone have things start happening. Better to hold off and make sure it’s the best it can be, rather than send something out too soon and look unprofessional.

Being realistic in a work of fiction

You're upset about the scientific inaccuracies in a comic book movie about an alien who can fly?
Some people were actually upset about the scientific inaccuracies in a comic book movie about an alien who can fly

“The monsters attack.”

This simple line in my action spec outline was the catalyst for a major thought process that continues to grow by leaps and bounds.  Questions are being raised that demand answers.

In creating this world, not only do I have to develop the story you’ll be following, but also fill in a lot of details about the world itself – which just happens to have monsters in it, which leads to more questions.  It never occurred to me to consider subjects such as biology, geology and the laws of physics as they apply to monsters (all of which play a part in the story).

“But it’s just a story,” some might say. “Don’t worry about stuff like that.” But it’s exactly the stuff like that that makes the story better, plus it shows I’m taking this seriously – even if it does involve monsters.

I’ve always had an intense dislike for writing that takes the easy way out in explaining something, or does it in a very half-assed way.  It makes it seem like the writer didn’t care enough to do a little more work.

It’s very important to me that not only are the events of the story based in reality, but the setting is as well.  This is something I strive for in everything I write – no matter what the genre.

The more detailed you can make the world of your story, the more believable it’ll be. But be careful not to overdo it – too much detail creates confusion. Just give enough to make ’em say “Yeah, that makes sense.” or “I can totally see that happening.”

Now it’s back to my research on which metallic alloy would be the most effective for killing monsters. So far, tungsten carbide seems to be the frontrunner.

Find a tone and stick with it

Something in this seems a little out of place
Something in this seems a little out of place

I used to dread getting feedback. It always meant having to go back and rewrite something.

Fortunately, I’m well past that and now appreciate how necessary both feedback and rewriting are.

Feedback makes you learn to value the necessity of hearing how somebody else interprets your work, and more importantly, how to be objective when it comes to really understanding what they have to say.

While working on the outline of my mystery rewrite, I looked for opportunities to put in an occasional joke (read: cheap laugh).

The problem, according to my top feedback-provider, was that the jokes, while understandable for their intent, were totally wrong for this kind of story. They make my protagonist come across as an idiot and the action comes to a screeching halt each time. And since this is more mystery than comedy, they shouldn’t be drawing attention to themselves like that.

There were other notes besides this one, but this one really struck a nerve – in a good way. I’ve been working on rewriting the jokes to make them a better fit within the context of the story, rather than have them be glaringly obvious and out of place.

As you create the world of your story, you have to make sure all the elements combine to make a believable scenario. This goes way beyond the story and the characters – take everything into account.  If something seems out of place, fix it or get rid of it.

And if you’re not sure, that’s what feedback is for.