Saw a great quote the other day that was along the lines of “Being a writer is like having homework for the rest of your life.”
From a certain perspective, that definitely has a negative connotation. Emphasizing the ‘work’ part of the word indicates drudgery and toil. Like, strictly dullsville, man.
The obvious solution is to make it a positive experience.
I know. Easier said than done, but bear with me.
(Writing should never seem like work anyway, but that’s another post.)
To be a better screenwriter, you need to read scripts and watch movies. You can see how the pros did it and figure out how that could potentially influence your work.
While watching your favorites and the classics can definitely help, I also suggest watching really shitty movies as well.
Hard as this might be to accept, there’s something be gained from it.
What was it that made them bad?
The possibilities are numerous, but a good percentage of the time – it’s the script.
As a writer, you can use that to your advantage.
Painful an experience as it might be, watch that bad movie from a writer’s perspective. Is it the writing that sucks? The story? The characters (and not the actors)? Is there a coherent sense of structure? Is there any structure at all? Does the story flow naturally, or do things happen because it seems like the story needs them to?
Maybe it feels like the writer didn’t take any chances, or worse, went for the very easy and cliched (i.e. expected) solution. Does anything in your script feel that way? If so, think about what changes you could make that would produce the same results, but get you there in a totally different way.
It may be 90-110 minutes of your life you’ll never get back, but at the very least you’ll get a better idea of what NOT to do when it comes to developing your script.
And that is a worthwhile lesson for any screenwriter.
A few weeks ago, I printed a copy of the animated fantasy-comedy, and then posted on social media about holding the actual document in my hands and the sensations that resulted from doing that.
(Quick note – said sensations were of a very positive nature. There’s definitely something to be said about holding a physical manifestation of all the time and effort you put into this draft. It’s exhilarating. Uplifting, even. A true sense of accomplishment. And then eagerly accepting the next step of figuring out what’s wrong with it and how to fix it/make it better.)
The post yielded quite a wide spectrum of responses. From “Totally agree. It’s fantastic!” to “I can’t imagine NOT printing it” to “You still print out scripts?”
As I matter of fact, I do. I find it to be incredibly helpful when it comes to editing, proofreading, and overall polishing.
As more than a few people put it, “Printing out a script is a necessary part of my process. I can see things on a page I’m holding that I might not see on a screen.”
That can definitely apply to me. After I finish a draft, I’ll step away from it for a few weeks, then print it out (double-sided) and have at it with red pen in hand. I go through the whole thing page by page, line by line, marking it up as much as necessary.
Could there be some kind of subconscious connection between holding an honest-to-goodness physical printout in your hands and what it does to your creative process? Beats me, but it seems to really make a difference.
I’m much more likely to spot something that needs to be changed when it’s on a piece of paper rather than on a screen. A line of dialogue that doesn’t work or needs retooling. A scene that doesn’t flow the way I need it to, so I try rearranging it. Or those most common of miscreants – a typo, a misspelled word, or a rogue punctuation mark. It happens.
Sometimes I’ll have a page that’s totally mark-free, or maybe one or two little fixes. Sometimes the page has got more red ink and edit marks than actual text, or my notes and comments occupy a lot of that white space.
All of it – not uncommon.
One interesting side note – many’s the time I’d have to decide about cutting something I was hesitant to cut. I would then figure out what was best for the script and story, and not what I wanted. If cutting this or rearranging that resulted in the scene, and subsequently the script, being better, then so be it. The usual follow-up to that was I’d make the change, then immediately forget about what was cut because the new version was better.
Once all the changes and fixes have been taken care of this draft, I’ll go back to the beginning and start implementing those changes and fixes on the digital copy.
Also not uncommon – trying to read my own handwriting, which can occasionally border on appearing microscopic in size from me trying to cram too many notes on the page. It might take a few passes to read it, but I eventually get there.
Before I know it – voila! A new draft.
Printing out my scripts to do some more work on them in order to make the next draft better is a process that’s served me quite well over the years, and I don’t see any reason to stop doing it.
Even despite a temporary lapse, output on the sci-fi adventure rewrite was progressing at a decent pace.
I already knew there’d be more work to do once it was done, but something still felt off. A piece of the puzzle was missing, and it felt weird to keep pushing forward. Like building a house with incomplete blueprints.
Although my original intent was to finish the rewrite, I wanted to take care of the missing puzzle piece. This in itself was quite challenging.
Once again, my network of savvy writing colleagues comes to the rescue.
I’ve been doing more one-on-one Zoom calls with writers I’ve only known through social media. It’s a great opportunity to get to know them as people, as well as talk a lot of shop about screenwriting.
Such was the case earlier this week. Another writer and myself were discussing some of our current projects, and the sci-fi adventure came up. Despite my stumbling through the “pitch”, my friend got really into the concept, prompting them to ask a lot of thought-provoking questions about the story and the characters. Some I had an answer for, some I didn’t.
(side note – I used to be embarassed about not having all the answers when it came to my stories, but have since embraced it and am now willing to say “I don’t know” or “no idea” because this usually leads to a discussion where everybody involved helps me come up with an answer.)
This led me to realize that some aspects of the story weren’t as defined as I thought. That, in turn, had a ripple effect on the rest of the story. The same story of which I had just passed the halfway mark with rewriting.
It was like taking a piece out near the bottom of the tower in a game of Jenga. Not that everything came crashing down; more like things got a whole lot more wobbly.
We talked things through some more, and did some impromptu brainstorming, all of which which helped point me in the right direction.
Long story short: the rewrite’s on hold and the reset button’s been pushed. But like I mentioned during the discussion, once those fixes are worked out and implemented, it shouldn’t be too difficult to get back on track.
While I originally hoped to be done with the rewrite around now, or at least mighty close to it, I don’t mind making another trip to the drawing board to take care of this. I’m already looking forward to taking this on and seeing how it goes.
Bonus – the chance to make any other fixes in the 50+ pages I’ve already written.
Yet another reason to be active and interactive within your personal writing community.
–The final chapter in the Indiana Jones series opens today. The characters and storytelling have been a huge influence for me and my writing, and I can only hope that my scripts can someday be compared to them.
Over the past few weeks, as part of group Zoom calls and one-on-one discussions, I’ve discussed with other screenwriters the frustration with how things are going for the writing, establishing/maintaining a career, and just the overall experience. And the current writers strike ain’t helping much, either. Sometimes all you can do is listen and offer encouragement and moral support. It might not be much, but it can still make a difference. It also reminded me of this post from August 2019.Enjoy.
Trying to make it as a screenwriter is a tough choice to begin with. It’s a long, drawn-out process that takes a long time before any significant results can be achieved. Sure, there are exceptions, but for the most part, it remains a marathon, not a sprint.
And that also means there’s going to be A LOT of heartache and disappointment along the way, and that can really take its toll on you. Not to sound too New Age-y, but all that negative energy can do significant damage to your confidence and self-esteem.
“This is never going to work.”
“I can’t do this.”
“Why do I even bother?”
If you’ve never said or thought any of these things, I’d love to know how in the world you managed to accomplish that and still call yourself a screenwriter.
Many’s the time I’ve seen comments on a public forum from another writer that echo these sentiments, or had them send me a private note saying something similar.
And I feel for them – whole-heartedly. I’ve been that writer thinking those thoughts a lot, too.
Do I wish I could help them out in any capacity? Without a doubt.
Even though it may not be much, I’ll offer up whatever support or encouragement I can. Don’t underestimate the power or effectiveness of telling somebody you’re in their corner. It makes quite the difference knowing you’re not alone during this tumultuous journey.
I once got a note from a writer I barely knew. They knew a writer I knew, and had seen some of my postings online. We were both semi-finalists in a prestigious contest, and it was the day the finalists were being announced.
For reasons totally unknown to me, they contacted me, asking if I’d received any kind of update. I hadn’t.
“Having a total shit writing year so far so I’m clinging to anything positive ha,” was their response.
I told them I was sorry to hear that, and offered up my own frustratingly good-but-not-great batting average, along with a few words of encouragement in the vein of “much as it hurts to get thrown off, you just gotta keep getting back on the horse”.
They were in total agreement.
An hour or so later, the finalists were announced. I wasn’t one of them. But they were. Naturally, I was disappointed, but also happy for them because they had something good happen.
The takeaway here is that you’re not alone in this. Every other writer goes through it. We’re all going to have a lot of bad days, probably a lot more than the number of good days, and it can be tough to get through it, let alone come out stronger.
This is one of those added benefits to networking and connecting with other writers. You’re not just helping to develop your writing and analytical skills, you’re creating your own emotional support network.
Chances are you’ll have a stronger relationship with a small number of people; the ones you’ve interacted with, or shared scripts, exchanged notes, etc., on a more regular basis.
Don’t be afraid to reach out and tell one of them “Hey, I’m not feeling too good about this right now. Mind if I talk about it?” They’ll understand, and be supportive about it (in theory). Just being able to talk about it could help you feel a little better.
Screenwriting is complicated enough, and gets even more so when you throw all your hopes and ambition into it. Sometimes you’ll feel strong, powerful, ready to take on the world. And sometimes you’ll feel like the world’s beaten you to a bloody pulp with no hope for recovery. (Again, I’ve experienced both.)
You can’t force yourself to feel better and restore your confidence, but you can take little steps to help yourself out – at your own pace. And any help you might need is always there and easily accessible.
Maximum Z 