If only you could eat a bad script

July 19, 2016 Maximum Z ambition, Austin Screenwriting Competition, baking, cake, choices, contest, determination, Nicholl Fellowship, PAGE International, perseverance, persistence, pie, running, San Francisco, screenplay, screenwriting, script, writing baking, screenwriting, scripts, writing

pineapple upside down cake — Let the metaphors commence!

Before we get to the gist of today’s post, let’s address the elephant in the room: my western did not advance to the quarterfinals of the PAGE contest.

Honestly, I was a little surprised; I thought it would have done better. After a brief wallow in disappointment, I shrugged my shoulders and moved on. It’s just another one of those things over which I have no control. I still have a ton of confidence in this script and might submit again next year. Also waiting to see how it fares in Austin and the Nicholl.

True, it was a rather lousy way to start the weekend, but over the next couple of days, I managed to redirect my focus, which included a nice long run that involved traversing the Golden Gate Bridge, and attempting something I’ve always wanted to try:

Making a pineapple upside-down cake (from scratch, naturally).

Guests were coming over for dinner, and I’d made pies for them before. But this time, I wanted to try something entirely new and preferably a little challenging. I’d say this falls into both categories.

I scoured the internet for an ideal recipe, found one to my satisfaction, and followed the directions to the letter. The result? It looked like it was supposed to, and that’s where the similarities end. A little too sweet and the center was still kind of goopy. Nevertheless, my guests still liked it, and K & I split the last piece after they left. Not bad for a first attempt.

Why did it not turn out the way I expected? A lot of reasons. The oven’s a piece of junk. It didn’t bake long enough. The ingredients and the amount of them probably need to be tweaked. No matter what, I know now that I can adjust all of these next time and get closer to the results I seek.

Except for the oven. It will forever remain a piece of junk until it dies. Which can’t happen soon enough. But I digress.

Notice all of the comparisons you could make between baking and writing a script? Trying something new and long-sought-after. Seeking advice and guidance. Following the guidelines. Doing what I was supposed to. An okay-but-was-hoping-for-better initial result. Planning ahead on what to fix/adjust for next time.

If a less-than-determined baker ended up with the cake I made, they’d probably denounce the whole process, give up entirely and probably buy pre-made stuff at the supermarket. But we’re made of sterner stuff. We hit a snag or some kind of unforeseen development, and we compensate as best we can. We learn what not to do next time. Sometimes you end up with something jaw-droppingly amazing, and sometimes you end up with something totally inedible.

With this whole experience behind me, I can now focus on projects of the immediate future, which includes another round of editing and revising a script, and making a pie or two for a dinner party this coming weekend.

It’s my intention to have the results of both of these undertakings be totally and utterly irresistible when they’re done and ready to serve.

They didn’t say no

April 8, 2016 Maximum Z champagne, half-marathons, manager, patience, perseverance, persistence, production company, rejection, relationships, representation, running, San Francisco, screenplay, screenwriting, script, self-confidence, story, storytelling, structure, success, westerns, writing

An encouraging bit of news from the ongoing quest for representation.

A new management firm had contacted me, and asked to read some of my scripts. I sent the western and the fantasy-adventure, then worked really hard on not thinking about it. Refocusing my attention on other scripts proved to be the most effective.

A few weeks went by, and I sent the obligatory follow-up. “Haven’t got to them yet,” was the response. “Check back in a few weeks.” Back I dove into gettin’ stuff done.

A few more weeks pass. Another follow-up inquiry. “Halfway through the fantasy. Really like it. Will be in touch.” Nothing wrong with that.

Another few weeks, and another follow-up. “Battling a nasty head cold. Hard to read and stay focused.”

At this point, you’d think common sense would have prevailed and I should accept that this was all building up to a rejection. But for some reason, it didn’t seem that way.

The person was still responding, and I was making a point of not being pushy. Even after relaying this story to a few writer chums, the general consensus was “You’re just wasting your time. They’re just letting you down easy.” Again, this felt different.

I’m a stubborn sort, especially when it comes to getting a career going, so I waited another week and sent one more follow-up.

They explained things had been taking so long because they currently didn’t have any solid connections with prodcos doing family movies (which this script could be considered), and weren’t sure where else they could take it – for now. They also asked me to keep them updated if anything happens with it somewhere else.

They had high praise for my writing and firm grasp of story and structure, and added that they still had a big pile of other scripts to get through, so it might be a while before they got to the western. The message ended with “thanks for your patience”.

I wrote back, thanking them for the update (adding that the writing for the western is stronger than that in the fantasy) and that I’d be in touch several weeks down the road. They were cool with all of it.

While this didn’t exactly yield the results I was hoping for, it also didn’t end like the many that have come before it. The person liked my writing, and always got back to me, which is definitely more than has happened with others.

There were lots of times throughout this whole process I was convinced I would receive an email with the inevitable “thanks, but no thanks”, but that never happened. After all this, I’d still consider what happened as a positive thing.

It may not be quite “back to the drawing board”, but it reinforces my belief that good things are fast approaching. In the meantime, I’ve got a few more scripts requiring my attention.

-On a semi-related note, screenwriting consultant Bill Boyle will be holding his workshop How To Sell Your Screenplay From Anywhere on Wednesday April 27 from 7-10pm at Fort Mason in San Francisco. Among the topics to be covered will be Industry Access, Marketing Tools, Script Protection, and Legal Aspects. Registration is $75, and at last check there were only 12 slots left, so don’t delay! For more details, email Bill at bill@billboyle.net

-One more thing. I ran the SF Rock & Roll Half-marathon this past Sunday. Many hills were involved. 1:58:09.

Let’s get those brains stimulated, people!

September 18, 2015 Maximum Z audience, characters, movies, originality, parenting, payoff, Pixar, plot, reading, San Francisco, screenwriting, script, setup, story, storytelling, writing

One of my favorite things to do as a parent is go to the movies with my daughter. It’s a nice feeling knowing I’ve instilled in her the appreciation of the whole moviegoing experience. It also helps that there’s a fantastic two-screen (one of a handful of similar small neighborhood theatres in San Francisco) a few blocks from us.

And as she’s getting older, our choices are growing in number. Strictly kid-based animation has given way to PG-13 fare, so we try to see what we can when possible.

Earlier this summer, we caught JURASSIC WORLD and INSIDE OUT within a week’s time. She really enjoyed the dinosaur flick. I thought it was fun, but felt it relied more on the nostalgia factor rather than smart storytelling (“Remember when we helped Grandpa fix that old car?”). I found the latest offering from Pixar to be pure genius, while she found it to be simply “okay”. I asked why she liked the first movie more than the second.

“I think I like movies where you don’t have to think too much.”

Gasp.

I won’t go so far as to say it was a dagger in my heart, but you can probably understand my being taken somewhat aback.

I could easily chalk it up to that she’s still relatively young and hasn’t latched on to my love of the movies to the extent that I have. Like I said, the list of what she’s seen is somewhat limited. I’ve done what I can, and hopefully can continue to contribute to it.

But as a writer, what’s my biggest takeaway from this?

Obviously I want to write scripts for films that will be embraced by the general public, which means they’d have to be simple enough that anybody could follow along, but also written in a way that the reader/audience doesn’t feel insulted or talked down to.

All this talk about needing to appeal to the lowest common denominator has always bothered me. It makes it sound like there’s no point in trying to write something smart.

I beg to differ.

Getting the reader/audience to really think about the story gets them more involved. You hooked with them with the beginning, kept them intrigued throughout the middle, and now they’re compelled to find out how it all ends. Isn’t that what it all comes down to?

I love it when I read a script where it’s obvious a writer knows what they’re doing when it comes to telling a story. Setups and payoffs. Multi-dimensional characters. Plotlines where I know what the endpoint is, have no idea how we’re going to get there, and am getting a real kick out of taking the journey.

This is the kind of writing we should all strive to create.

It’s easy to write something that doesn’t try to challenge the reader/audience, and the reaction will probably be similar. “Boring.” “Unoriginal.” “Meh.”

Push yourself to write something that offers up something new, or at least a new twist on an old standard. Give us something we haven’t seen before, or totally weren’t expecting. Not just one part. THE WHOLE THING. There’s something exhilarating about venturing into new territory. Take us there.

We’re writers. It’s what we do.

Here’s the windup…

July 8, 2014 Maximum Z analysis, anxiety, baseball, comedy, confidence, feedback, mystery, networking, opportunity, pitching, plot points, query letter, reading, rewrite, San Francisco, scenes, screenwriting, script, self-confidence, spec, story, storytelling, stress, westerns, writing

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.

Building up to what it all comes down to

June 24, 2014 Maximum Z antagonist, characters, goals, Godzilla, guidelines, hero, inciting incident, monsters, Movie of the Moment, Pacific Rim, payoff, plot, plot points, protagonist, San Francisco, scenes, screenwriting, script, story, storytelling, structure, subplot, Uncategorized, villain, writing

What he's holding represents what's at stake. Think about it. — What he’s holding represents what’s at stake. Hint: It’s not a rock

Time now for a very, very important question every writer needs to face:

Do you know how your story ends?

You come up with an idea, then proceeded to develop, shape, and organize all the stuff that happens in the middle, which eventually has led us to the where we find ourselves now: the big payoff. What the whole thing’s been about.

Everything your characters have been doing have been leading up to this. In theory, your first two acts have been about the protagonist’s world undergoing some drastic changes, how they dealt with it and now it looks like the bad guy’s going to win.

Which brings us to the grand finale that is Act Three, where our hero must somehow find a way to overcome these seemingly insurmountable odds, defeat the antagonist and hopefully come out of the experience a different person than the one they were way back when we first met them.

That being said, there’s still more to it.

-Your protagonist has a physical goal (what they want) and an emotional one (what they need). They can achieve both, just one or neither. Which applies to yours, and have you effectively steered the action to ensure that result? Can we see the changes they’ve undergone?

-Working with a subplot or three? If they haven’t wrapped up by now, better make sure to do it soon. Do you really want the reader to wonder “Hey! What happened to the part about ____?”

-Even a supporting character needs an arc to complete. Have you given each of them enough attention throughout the story to make this happen, and does their story wrap up in a convincingly believable way?

One of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned about putting a story together is that the central question (“Will the hero achieve their goal?”) is raised with the inciting incident around page 10, and each subsequent plot point raises it again, albeit with the stakes a little higher each time.

What happens in Act Three is where you show us how the central question is answered.

-And now, the much-heralded return of Movie of the Moment! This time, a way overdue look at GODZILLA (2014).

Wow. Everything PACIFIC RIM should have been. Instead of non-stop giant monster action, we get only glimpses as the focus is directed at the human aspect of the story. A much more effective approach.

While it’s not hard to suspend disbelief when it comes to a movie about giant monsters rampaging/duking it out in the downtown area of the city where I live, perhaps the most amazing piece of cinematic fiction (as observed by both K and myself) was in the background of one scene where a garage sign read “All-day parking $15”.

Now that’s make-believe.

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