Getting the sucky part out of the way

Okay, script. I'm getting a little tired waiting for you to write yourself.
Getting a little tired waiting for you to write yourself.

So how’s your November writing project coming along?

Making the progress you were hoping for? Maybe you’re producing a number of pages above and beyond what you were expecting? Or are you feeling trapped in a morass of agony and frustration because the words just won’t cooperate?

No matter what your output, good on you for keeping at it. Only 20 days to go!

For the sake of this discussion, let’s say at month’s end you have a finished draft. Most likely a first draft.

How would you rate it? Good? Bad? Somewhere in the middle? Or, if you’re like a lot of writers, you’ll label it “okay, but needs a lot of work.”

And you know what? That’s totally cool.

That’s the point of the first draft. Don’t worry about if it’s perfect or not. It’s not. But it is helping you lay down the foundation for your story so you can spend each consecutive rewrite fixing any and all things that need to be fixed.

And there will be a lot of them.

Again, still cool.

Some writers consider just writing the first draft as the biggest obstacle. You’re literally creating something out of nothing. Compared to that, every subsequent draft gets a little easier. You might even be surprised how many new ideas you come up with it as you go along.

The first draft is indeed a necessary evil. At times it probably feels like a neverending slog, but once you actually do finish it, the hard part’s out of the way. All your initial ideas are now assembled into what may or may not resemble what you’re trying to create. It may not be anywhere near the point you want it to be, but you’re definitely better off than when you started.

Don’t just embrace the opportunity of getting through the first draft. Grab it with both hands, hold it tight, and run like hell.

A thought that never truly goes away

Just a little self-evaluation to pass the time
Just indulging in a little self-evaluation

I posted this just about a year ago, and after recently receiving some very supportive and encouraging script notes, think it’s still relevant.

Am I getting better?

One of the sad truths about trying to make it as a screenwriter is that it’s an extremely frustrating process.

On certain days, the frustration feels like it extends to the uppermost part of the outer edge of the stratosphere. To the nth degree.

What is it about screenwriting that people who don’t do it think it’s easy? If you’re reading this, it’s more than likely you’ve given it a go, or at least know somebody who has, so you know full well that it most definitely is not.

We even try to warn those who think hammering out a first draft in a few weeks is a guaranteed million dollar paycheck. This is a long and arduous road, we say, but they don’t let that stop them. A legion of the truly unaware who will discover the scary truth soon enough.

Those of us who are fully committed (an apt phrase if ever there was one) finish the latest draft, then edit, rewrite and polish it so many times it enters well into double digit territory, hoping our writing and storytelling skills are improving with each new attempt.

But how do we know if that’s even happening?

We ask friends and trusted colleagues for feedback. We pay for professional analysis. The script gets reworked yet again.

We hope this newest draft is light years ahead of all of its previous incarnations in terms of quality, but sometimes it’s tough to be able to recognize if that’s the case. At least for me, anyway.

Whenever I send somebody a script for critiquing, I always say “Thanks for taking a look. Hope you like it.”

I know the script isn’t perfect – maybe even far from it, which is why I ask for help. Part of me knows it’s good, but can be better. It’s being able to identify the latter that gives me trouble. I’m so deeply embedded in a story that it’s tough to step back and be objective. Maybe I can not look at it for a few weeks, but even then it’s tough to look at it with fresh eyes.

Follow-up notes will tell me what they liked and what they feel needs work. There will be a fair mix of stuff I should have already figured out and some “How could I have missed that?” surprises.

So back I go into rewrite mode, hoping for improvement for both the material and myself, still not knowing if that improvement is there until I undergo the entire process all over again.

Or at least somebody tells me.

Getting over overwriting

Whattya think? Too much?
Whattya think? Too much?

It’s a bad habit of mine, definitely happens in the first draft, and then has to be slowly and surgically removed with each successive draft that follows.

Simply put, I put too much detail into a scene. I visualize in my mind how it plays out, and that’s what I put on the page.

There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s probably my equivalent of a “vomit draft”, where everything gets written down because you know you’re going to go back and edit and rewrite it multiple times. It’s a starting point.

So after you’ve got that first draft written, how do you know what to get rid of?

Like with sculpting a statue out of a block of marble, just chip away anything that doesn’t belong.

Say you have a scene that runs 1 3/4 pages. Do you know what the point of the scene is? Does it advance the plot and the characters’ development? Is there a way to have the scene still do that but with significantly less words? Can you cut the whole thing in half? Can you cut it by 75 percent?

How much of the scene is just back-and-forth dialogue? How detailed are you when it comes to what the characters are doing? (“He climbs the first step of the stairs, pauses to catch his breath, wipes his sweaty brow, then advances another step.” That sort of thing).

Do you describe parts of the scene that, when you really think about it, really don’t have much or anything to do with moving the story forward (how a room is decorated, what the characters are wearing, etc)? I’ve been reading a lot of scripts lately, and have seen all of these on display.

It’s like this is the culmination of three important screenwriting rules:

get in late, get out early
get to the point as soon as possible
write as if ink costs a thousand dollars an ounce

Don’t be of the mindset that you can’t or won’t change anything. Yes, this is your baby, but what’s more important? Your writer’s ego or telling your story in the best, most efficient way possible?

I had a first draft that was 132 pages. Just about every person who gave me notes said it was too long, and that it had to be at least 20-30 pages shorter. At the time, I thought that was asking too much. If I really pushed myself, I could cut maybe 10, 15 tops.

But as I went through each rewrite, trimming wherever I could, savagely wiping scenes, characters and dialogue from existence, it kept getting shorter until I got it down to 107. A whole 25 pages cut, just as was suggested. It took a while, but I got there.

Whittling each scene down to its bare essentials not only helped make the script better, but also proved beneficial to developing my writing and editing skills so while I’m sure I’ll continue to overwrite in the future, at least I’ll be better prepared to deal with it.

Just another project status update…

All the news about me that's fit to digitally publish
All the news about me that’s fit to digitally publish

Having recently given some notes on a couple of comedy scripts, I decided to see what I could do with mine, which I hadn’t looked at in about 5 months (due to finishing up the western).

The outline still seemed pretty solid, but could do with some minor tweaking. I’d already started on a first draft, so I thought I’d see how that read.

I honestly didn’t remember how far I’d gotten. Maybe page 25 or thereabouts?

Nope. A whopping 49 pages. Whoa. That’s around halfway through! Talk about pleasant surprises.

I read through and already see what needs to be cut, including too many instances of over-writing (a bad habit of mine that always occurs in first drafts). From what I’ve read, it looks like a lot can be taken out without too much of an impact on scenes or story.

So now I’ll see if I can settle back into that 3-pages-a-day routine and have it finished relatively soon-ish. I was hoping to have a draft of something done by the end of the year, so looks like I may actually be on track for that.

Fingers, as always, remain firmly crossed.

And how’s your current project coming along?

Just a moment of your time, please

It’ll only take this long, right?

Even though I don’t actively participate on a lot of online forums, I still enjoy reading them, occasionally throwing in my two cents when I think I have something worth saying.

On one such forum, an experienced writer offered to provide detailed notes on the script with the logline he liked the most. He was very detailed and meticulous in laying out the guidelines and rules, including that the script “MUST be ready to read NOW. No exceptions.”

Up until that caveat, I’d thought about submitting the logline for my mystery-comedy, but knew the script still needed work, so instead opted to hold off and wait until I thought the script was ready. And I said words to that effect in the comments.

Much to my surprise, he responded almost immediately.

“Now that’s what I love to see. Writers respecting the investment of time and energy of others. I’m taking about five hours out of my life to do this and I want to feel the script I’m about to read will be worth it. Good on you, Paul, for being so conscientious. It’s one of the responsibilities of a writer no one tells you about, but it’s absolutely vital for building and sustaining a career.”

I never thought of it that way because I was looking at it from my perspective: I didn’t want offer up a script I didn’t consider ready yet. But he makes a very good point – the other person has their own schedule, and you need to be respectful of that.

It’s easy to forget that even though you’ve put a lot of time and effort into your script, now you’re imposing on somebody else to devote a sizable chunk of their time to giving it a solid read-through. That’s a lot to ask, especially when they’ve offered to do it for free.

When somebody asks me if I can take a look at their script, I always let them know it’ll probably take me longer than I think to get those notes to them – and it usually does. Nobody’s complained about it (to my face, anyway). And when the situation is reversed and someone’s giving me notes, I’ll send the script with a note of thanks and that there’s no rush. I’ll distract myself from the waiting game by working on another project or two.

We all only have so much time to spare to devote to work on our own material, let alone someone else’s. Just be grateful and appreciative that someone’s willing to sacrifice some of their time to help you out, and definitely be just as willing to return the favor.

In a timely manner, of course.