Just call me Dante, because this sure feels hellish

Seems pretty appropriate at times
Seems pretty appropriate at times

I wanted to rework the logline for my mystery-comedy spec, so, never one to totally learn from previous experience and hoping for best possible results, I took the plunge and posted it on a few forums, seeking potentially helpful feedback.

Thus did the floodgates open.

It’s me and my story out there in the open, waiting for the world to let itself be heard.

And it did. Oh boy, did it.

One response was a literal interpretation of the words, and why it didn’t work. My assumption that certain details were implied was apparently incorrect.

Several focused on presenting the story in a way I repeatedly explained just didn’t apply. No matter how much I emphasized it was THIS kind of story, they just could not get away from thinking it was THAT kind of story.

Then there’s the omnipresent “I can’t see this being a story” and “It doesn’t sound solid enough.”

Well, I can and think it does.

My words, meet deaf ears. I got similar responses when I was starting the western, and that turned out pretty well.

It’s my sincere belief that everybody’s intentions are good, and they probably don’t mean for their comments to come across in such a “why don’t you know better?” and “THIS is the right (read: only) way to do it” manner.

Even if I totally disagree with somebody, I still appreciate the fact they made the effort to read it, analyze it and create what both of us hope is a helpful response. That doesn’t mean I have to take their word as gospel.

And unless I’ve actually met the person, I have no idea how much legitimate experience or expertise they have. For all I know, everything they say stems from reading SAVE THE CAT a couple of times.

Putting together a logline is an exhausting process. Some people are better at it than others.

As it so happens, I’m not one of them.

Here’s the windup…

lincecum
I admit it. Local bias.

Interesting discussion the other day with a professional hyphen (writer HYPHEN director HYPHEN script consultant) about my western.

They wanted me to pitch them the story, but without notes. Pretty much without any preparation whatsoever.

This way, they explained, it comes across as “more natural” and “less rehearsed”. I don’t necessarily agree, especially because I despise those momentary pauses which make you rely on saying “um” while your brain races to come up with the next words out of your mouth.

Despite not really having thought about the story that much over the past few months, I did my best to work my way through it and think I did okay. Maybe B-plus/A minus territory. Not fantastic, but not bad operating with pretty much no prep time whatsoever.

I made sure to include key story points and not go into too much detail, and tried to sound excited and upbeat while describing the high-octane action.

After I’d finished, there was a dread-inducing silence that grew with each passing second (maybe 3 in total, but felt more like neverending).

“Hmm,” came the reply. “Not bad.”

Not exactly a standing ovation, but I’ll take what I can get.

They listed what they liked and what could use a little work. Surprisingly, they felt the ending was a little ‘soft’ and their explanations why, to which I calmly disagreed and gave my explanation why.

Even more surprisingly, they then revealed they’d only read up to page 15 and wanted to hear my pitch to see if the rest of the story warranted continuing.

(Just to set things up, this person claims to have given 3 pages of notes just on the first page alone for other scripts. Apart from a few comments about the dialogue, they didn’t really have any for mine, and that when they usually get to around page 10, they jump ahead to the middle, then to the end. But mine they wanted to keep reading. Make of that what you will.)

After hearing my rationalization for the ending, they admitted that they should “probably read it to see if they agree.” In theory that will be happening this week, but we’ll see.

Our discussion then turned to my experience and some of my other scripts, 2 of which they requested to read. A victory, no matter how you slice it.

Looking back, I could have done a much better job at pitching my story – if I’d known I was going to have to do it. Still, if I’m going to be sending out queries about it, I should be prepared to talk about it in a moment’s notice.

So while I while away upcoming hours engaged in the rewrite of the mystery-comedy spec, I’ll try to make the most of potential down-time and re-read the western and maybe put together some kind of FAQ/cheat sheet in case this kind of situation arises again.

And it probably wouldn’t hurt to do the same for those other two – just for good measure.

Reduce heat; let simmer for 2-3 months

I look exactly like that after finishing each draft, flour and all
Exactly how I look after finishing a draft, even though the flour wreaks havoc with my keyboard

It took a little longer than expected, but the revamped outline for the pulpy adventure spec is finally done.

As is my usual practice, I won’t take another stab at it for at least a couple of months partly because I’m feeling a little burned-out on it. This has been my primary focus for the past couple of months, and I just need a short break from it.

The other reason is I’m getting ready to jump into rewriting the Christmas-themed mystery-comedy. Notes are in place, so hopefully it won’t take too long.

But getting back to the outline, my original thought upon finishing it was the standard “It’s better than it was, but still needs a lot of work,” but experience has taught me that this may not necessarily be the case anymore.

I like to think I’m a stronger writer compared to a few years ago, so while I would never consider the material as it reads now as perfect, it may surprise me when I return to it as to how much better it is than I remember.

At least that’s what I’m hoping for.

On the other hand, I could read it and think “Where did that come from?”, “Well, that’s not going to work,” or even “Hmm. How much wine did I have that day?”

Taking it another step further, taking this break will enable me to pretty much forget a lot about the story, so I’ll be able to read it with fresh eyes and potentially come up with fresh ideas about how to improve it.

All things being equal, I like the way it turned out and am looking forward to getting back to it.

But first things first. Time to shift from the fight against monsters wreaking havoc to seeking out answers behind seedy goings-on in a holiday metropolis.

As always, watch this space for updates.

Damn you, Seth MacFarlane

Let us sincerely hope the sun has not set just yet
Let us sincerely hope the sun has not set just yet

If ever there was a need for a man in a white hat to ride in and save the day, now would be a good time.

First THE LONE RANGER is the mega-bomb of 2013, followed by the much-heralded crash and burn this weekend of A MILLION WAYS TO DIE IN THE WEST.

Mea culpa – I’ve not seen MILLION, and based on what I’ve read, have no real desire to do so. It doesn’t bode well when a lot of the reviews generate more laughs than the trailer.

The western just can’t catch a break. Every once in a while you get something incredible like TRUE GRIT, 3:10 TO YUMA or DJANGO UNCHAINED. Jeez, even RANGO had a little redeeming value. Films like these come along and hope grows in our hearts, but then we get dreck like JONAH HEX or COWBOYS & ALIENS, and back to movie jail goes the western.

I had no real hopes for Mr. MacFarlane’s latest, but at least he was attempting to do some kind of western. Granted, it was trying to be this generation’s BLAZING SADDLES, but apparently failing miserably.

This goes beyond another nail in the coffin. At this point the coffin’s already in the ground with a few shovelfuls of dirt on it.

As a writer offering up a totally kickass western spec, my hopes for success seem to diminish just a little bit more with this kind of news.

I can imagine every potential recipient recoiling in fear. “A western? Eek!” followed by the frantic pressing of the ‘delete’ key.

Contacting a friend repped at a high-profile agency, I asked if anybody there might be open to reading it.

“I wrote a western, and they won’t sell it,” was the reply. “They don’t believe there’s a market for them after THE LONE RANGER.”

Well, sure. Because every western is going to be an overpriced, convoluted bloated crapfest.  It doesn’t help that a lot of them actually have been exactly that.

Why have so many recent westerns been bombs? Wish I knew.

Skimming the credits of some of the great westerns of the past shows that the people who made them had a real understanding and appreciation of the genre – John Ford, Howard Hawks, Clint Eastwood, just to name a few. And it shows in the finished product.

Hopefully somebody else will give it another go in the near future, sooner rather than later, and know how to do it right.

Did I mention I’ve got a totally kickass spec?

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.