Christmas and Script Criticism Seem Unfit for Each Other

Christmas... yeah. We did it. Moving on.

Got Goodland back from the script readers (I used Act One). Jack read my script, then gave me a call and talked with me for over an hour. It's a hard thing, taking criticism on the first script you really feel proud of. It's even harder when basically everything the guy is saying rings true, and you wonder within yourself at the complete lack of insight which led you to overlook these problems. He had good things to say, they always have good things to say to you. It is disheartening, though, when you begin to realize that these changes they want you to make are exactly the changes you need to make, but for some reason you would never have figured it out on your own. The lights go on, and you completely see it, but you didn't before, and then you wonder why you didn't see it, which inevitably leads you the the conclusion that you may never see it, and maybe seeing is reserved for those really great screenwriters, of which you will never be since you can't see it.

Or maybe it's just a matter of time before I begin seeing it.

Going with that hypothesis, I theorize that it will be at least five more scripts before I begin seeing it. They tell you that it will take 7-8 scripts before you get a good one, and I'm on 3, so I've got 5 to go (check the math - I'm crap at math). This is also disheartening when you consider that I must trudge along for five more scripts, putting my entire effort into it while knowing that what I will be producing in the end is just a means to an end. Kind of takes all the creative energy out of it. I thought my motivation was fickle before, now there will be no living with it. You almost have to fool yourself into thinking that this next script will be the one, even though you know it won't, because it's only number 4. But come on, it's a romantic comedy with aliens, how can that not be the one?

On the up side, I've got the next three scripts all planned out. Ooh, ooh I just thought of a Christmas analogy for this! It's like a Christmas present that you know is perfect, and you save all your pennies for it, then you go out and buy it, wrap it up really nice with the bows and everything, and then you just put it on a shelf because no one is ever going to open it. But it was good practice. I hate to practice. Is it too much to ask that I be good at just one thing without having to actually work so hard at it?

Nano Off To A Rough Start

Oh man, it's like pulling teeth. I'm sitting on 1,300 words, and every single stinking one of them was absolutely painful. What is this? Writing used to come so easily to me; last year I'd churn out 5,000 in one sitting, no problem. It took me three hours to complete 1,300 measly words, and half the time I was shopping online for shoes. And that's the other problem. Before, I had no problem putting even important things off in the name of completing my Nano goal. Now, it's as if finding the best price on a pair of ankle boots is more important. I don't even know if I like ankle boots. Would I wear them if someone gave me a pair, sure. If they fit and didn't suck. But am I actually going to buy a pair, I don't know. Sometimes I think they look cool, but other times I think, "gosh, is that look totally out? Am I trying to make something happen here that really shouldn't happen? Do they make my legs look stubby, and if so is that cute?"

Here's where I really think this is going. What's happening here is a result of the tragedy of knowing too much. Here's what I know: I'm not a good writer. And by that, what I mean is I'm not producing stuff that makes industry professionals touch their chin and go, "Hmm, that's good." Now, I've been not a good writer for quite some time, but I didn't know it before. I was blissfully unaware of my own literary stench, and now that I know it's paralyzing. Because I care. I didn't used to care, and that was fine because I was young and just starting out, and I knew that it was only a matter of time and some hard work before I really, honestly would be good. It's just taking such a long time, and the work ethic is not there. I had it for a while, and then school. Then family. Then new episodes of 30 Rock and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. So I sit down to write something that I think could be really good, but it's not good because 1. nothing is ever good on the first draft, and 2. I am a whole lot of time and effort away from being good. I don't work hard. I just want it to be good the first time so I don't have to go back and fix it again and again and again. And when it doesn't come out just right the first time, I get frustrated and all my creativity retreats far back into the part of my brain responsible for remembering high school Algebra (i.e. the part of my brain that doesn't work).

Wow, I don't even remember what semblance of motivation I was supposed to pull out of this. Oh yeah - it's not going to be good the first time. Just accept it, and move on. Write the thing. I know you want it to be good (trust me, I do know), but you just have to get something down, and later you can go back and spend years painstakingly rearranging it so that people don't want to vomit when they try to read it (although, there are some books like that out there right now, and boy are they popular). Write it. Write a bad novel. Worse case scenario: it will always be good for a laugh. I wrote a hideous piece of Medieval fiction when I was 19. It took me nine months, it was 100 pages, single spaced, and it was all I could ever think about. Even had one of my friends proof read it for me. It is truly horrible, but I love that book. You never regret writing a bad novel. What you may regret is not writing a bad novel, because in the back of your mind you will always think, "what if it would have been good?"

Nano Is Coming!

If you're cool, you call it Nano. If you're not cool, you say National Novel Writing Month. "Whoa, whoa, whoa" you're thinking, "I thought you were a screenwriter?" Well, I am (okay, so I'm not, but go with me on this), but novels are fun, especially novels that have to be written in one month. 50,000 word novels that have to be written in one month. If you don't think that sounds fun, then how weird are you?

It's a literary vacation is what it is. You just sit at your computer and take a trip far away from structure, style and sense (yeah, this book is going to be greeeeeeeat). It's dangerous. It's super dangerous, and being dangerous is fun, especially when it's done in the privacy of your own home or a well lit, public coffee house (and not late at night at the coffee shop. And not the coffee shop with the one guy that stares at me sometimes when he doesn't think I can see him out of the corner of my eye).

What I'm kind of driving at here is I think you should do it with me. Mostly because it would be really good for you, but also because misery loves company. But mostly because I think misery loves company. Just do it. Do it. Dooooooo it.

This is going to be fun!

People Are the Greatest Stories

Thanks to Roger for reminding me of that. And that's the most awesome thing about being a writer (okay, so everything is the most awesome thing about being a writer, but for today we'll just make this one the most awesome), every part of your life, even when it has nothing to do with writing, has everything to do with story. Being a stressed out, Oreo addicted nursing student is a story. Granted, not my kind of story right off the bat - too melodramatic, and way too much crying. I'd have to throw something in there, like, all the faculty are actually aliens, but really funny aliens that are terribly unorganized and have no idea themselves how to take over a planet like ours, but they're still dangerous because they like to suck our brains out. That's a better story. Still, it's there.

I'm not writing anything creative right now because of school, and that is profoundly frustrating to me. But I have to remind myself of the concept of phases. Sometimes the writing process involves periods of not writing, or "incubation" phases. I'm just in a really, really crappy incubation phase right now. And, considering I have three distinct, and pretty well planned out screenplays up in there, this incubation could last a while. Probably about as long as, say, a typical first year of nursing school would last. I may be able to eek out a little something over Christmas break, but even the thought of that is getting my hopes up, and that I have to avoid altogether. First, the hopes go up, then the expectations rise, then I resolve on writing something, the resolve comes and goes without anything to show for it but the incredible guilt associated with letting myself down. So, yeah, no hopes up. Hopes must stay down, way down.

Who's tired of hearing about this? I see that hand. I see that hand.

Look at this instead:

Go see this movies. Shhhhhh, don't ask any questions, just go see it. You can catch a matinee, I don't even care, just see it.

There. That was for you.

The End of All Motivation

I'm talking about nursing school. I hate nursing school. I realize how bad that sounds now that I've actually written it down, but that's basically it. You know how many butts I wiped on Wednesday? Four. Four butts. Well, not four butts, it was the same butt four times. Same difference. And it's not even that. I don't mind wiping butts. Somebody's got to do it, and I'm the student, so I do it. It's probably worse to be the guy who has to have his butt wiped four times because the doctor was blasting him with fiber and laxatives, and the CP prevents him from getting out of bed to use the bathroom for himself, so he has to go on a bedpan, if he can make it, otherwise he just has to go in the bed, and tell me that's not embarrassing. Yeah, it's definitely much worse to be that guy.

Back to me.

I can't write. Even posting this blog is kind of painful. I've written nothing but a five page scene for a contest that, frankly, wasn't that great. The scene, I mean. The contest is fine. I have a pretty decent beginning to a screenplay that I have not touched since school started. I got nothing. It's not that I don't want to be a nurse, it's just that being a nursing student sucks, and what sucks worse than that alone is that I don't have anything left after doing all my sucky nursing homework to devote to what I really like to do, which is write. I'm not even keeping up with my nursing blog. Nothing. The only thing I haven't lost motivation for is watching TV. Still love to watch TV. Lots of TV. And ice cream. So much ice cream, you wouldn't believe. I'm actually going to quit writing this now, and go get some ice cream. There's been a lot of ice cream on sale lately.

Inglorious = Glorious!

Okay, listen closely, and just trust me on this. Anyone who tells you this movie is not worth seeing has no idea what they're talking about - no idea. Or, they are willfully deceiving you, and I don't know which is worse. For the first fifteen minutes, I'm sitting in this movie thinking "okay, how long can this scene possibly last? If the whole movie is like this, then I don't know if I'm going to - whoa! Did that just happen? Oh, no!" and tension ensues. In fact, this whole movie is a study in proper tension-building. I'm not even a big Tarantino fan; sometimes I just don't get the guy, but this time I did. This time, he blew me away. It takes a genius. Write a twenty minute scene? No problem. Write a twenty minute scene that holds people's attention and ends in such a way that it completely justifies ever second of the time spent building to that point? That takes Tarantino. Watch and understand what it is to take your time and do it right. What it is to wow with skill and words and not just visual tricks of the trade. If you told me you had a fifteen minute stretch of your script where two guys are just sitting at a table talking, I'd tell you to cut that down to three minutes, and have them doing something. But Tarantino does it. I'll never be able to do it, but Tarantino does it. And he does it very well.

Music and Lyrics and Your Script

"I'm coming up only

to hold

you under.

I'm coming up only

to show

you wrong."

-Band of Horses

I love this. I mean, I love Band of Horses, I love the music, and I love-love the lyrics. I don't even get lyrics, usually. I'm not a poem person, I'm not deep like that; I'm either deep in some other way, or I'm not deep at all. But these words, look at them. Say them to yourself. How cool are they? What a weird and clear motivation for someone. "I'm coming up only to hold you under." Oooh. Can you feel it? I imagine there's this guy, and he's drowning, he's going down. And he doesn't have enough energy left to save himself, but then he sees this other guy making it to the top of the water, and he knows this guy, and he knows he can't let that happen. So he finds within himself something that was not there when it was only his life at stake, but there it is when he sees this guy getting away, and he gets himself to the top of the water so that he can put his hand on this guy's head and just push him down into the water. Yikes! What a character! What a wonderful example of a strong, compelling story. Why? Why is he coming up only to hold this other person under? What has this other guy done? What could he possibly have done? And how can I make a movie about it? If only.

Listen to the song. You're going to be a fan.

New Project Anouncement!

A few posts ago, I lamented my sorry state after hearing that my money tree script idea had been written by someone else. However, after relating this dilemma to some other writers, including you my faithful readers, I received overwhelming encouragement to write it anyway. I mean, the other one hasn't been sold, and my treatment of it is so different. But more than all the rationalizing I could ever do on my own, it's pretty much because everyone around me is saying "go for it." I trust you people. So I'm going to go for it.

Thanks.

Goodbye, Goodland!

Well, it's off. My most favoritist script I've ever written is now in the hands of professionals, and I anxiously await their feedback. Kind of. Kind of not. Really, there are two scenarios going on in my head that represents the two possible extremes. In my wildest dreams, it goes something like this:

INT. OFFICE - DAY

Two READERS drudgingly sift through piles of papers. Each script is worse than the last, as evidenced by their frequent sighs. Dropping a particularly bad one, Reader 1 turns to the other.

READER 1

They don't pay me nearly enough for this.

READER 2

Word.

READER 1

I swear, if I read another vampire script I'm going to bite my own wrists open.

READER 2

What if the vampires are cheerleaders?

READER 1

You're joking.

Reader 2 holds up a scripts titled "Bring It On: Blood Lust!" Reader 1 has just enough energy left to roll his eyes.

READER 2

I need a new job.

READER 1

I've lost the will to live.

READER 2

One more script before we throw in.

READER 1

Fine. What about this one.

READER 2

Goodland? Wow, that's actually a decent title.

READER 1

Yeah.

The two Readers thumb through the manuscript.

READER 1

Pages look nice. Good formatting, nice use of white space. Hey, I think they even spell checked!

READER 2

Are you reading this?

READER 1

Why? What is it?

The two give the script more attention. With each turn of the page, the Readers look more and more excited. Their eyes open wider, their backs straighten. Can it be?

READER 1

What action lines! It's as if I'm really there, seeing the whole thing unfold.

READER 2

And the dialogue. So natural, yet hilarious and, at times, riveting!

READER 1

These characters, so three-dimensional. I can't stop reading. I have to know what happens next, and somehow, I don't know how, but I care! My life is suddenly worth living.

READER 2

You're right. This movie has inspired me. I'm going to go back to college and finish my degree.

READER 1

I'm going to go home and spend time with my family.

READER 2

But first, we have to show this to someone.

READER 1

You mean the literary agent who gives us kickbacks to recommend new writers to her?

READER 2

No, not that boss.

READER 1

You mean the studio exec who pads our salary in exchange for floating him exciting new scripts?

READER 2

No. I mean the big one. The Boss.

READER 1

You mean your uncle, Peter Jackson?

READER 2

Yeah. And my second cousin-in-law, George Lucas. He's been looking for a heartwarming comedy.

READER 1

Great! Let's not waste any time!

Energized by their find, the two Readers rush out of the room, leaving their paperwork and their pessimism behind.

FADE OUT

But in the real world, it will more likely go something like this:

INT. OFFICE - DAY

Two READERS sift through piles of papers. One of them sighs.

READER 1

The good ones are getting fewer and farther between.

READER 2

I know. This one has cheerleading vampires in it.

READER 1

Cheerleading vampires? Vampires are hot right now. So are cheerleaders.

READERS 2

Cheerleaders are always hot.

READER 1

Word. Put that one on the maybe pile. What else you got?

READER 2

Here's one about a guy who builds a resort in Austria.

READER 1

Austria? Sounds expensive. Casting would be a nightmare. Shooting would have to be on location.

READER 2

I've never been to Austria. Is that by Germany?

READER 1

Yeah. Hmm... Germany... How about Brats for lunch?

READER 2

Ooh, that sounds good.

READER 1

Cool, let's go.

READER 2

What about this script?

READER 1

Did they send a check with it?

READER 2

Yeah.

READER 1

Good. We can use that money to buy our brats.

READER 2

Sweet!

The two Readers turn to go. In his haste to get his brat, Reader 1 knocks the Goodland script to the floor, where Reader 2 unknowingly kicks it under the rug, where it stays forever.

So, those are the two possibilities, as I see it. As much as I would love for them to go gaga over my script, in all likelihood, they will probably just read it, write notes on it, and return it to me. Which is fine. It's not really fine, but it is. I will learn from it, and become a better writer for it. And eventually, maybe, hopefully, all this learning and growing and improving will turn into something more tangible than the "building of my character."

What I'm Watching (Don't Judge Me!)

Shaking off the crap of yesterday's yesterday (you like that? It means two days ago. Get it? No? No good? Okay), I am pressing forth and bringing you the short list of the very best a non-paying TV viewer can expect right now. Basically, what I'm watching. And away we go:

30 Rock and The Office reruns

Pretty much the best prime time, regular television comedies on right now. Even though I've seen every episode, I can't help but postpone everything else I have to get done in favor of watching Tina Fey almost kiss her cousin, or Dwight sitting down on his gift wrapped chair only to find that there is no chair under it. Actually, right now I'm watching the one where Micheal forms his own paper company and Jim pretends to have relationship issues to play with Andy's head. Good times. It's hard to pick a favorite between these two, which is probably why I bundled them together. But if I had to, I would just say this: I have a Dwight bobble head. What does that tell you? Yeah, 30 Rock is better. It's better than everything.

Blackadder

Okay, so in case you don't know (because I didn't until about two months ago), Rowen Atkinson did more than just Mr. Bean. And as much as I adore Mr. Bean (my dad would let me stay up late so I could watch it with him, and my mom would sit there rolling her eyes every time we busted out laughing, which only made it funnier), I have to say that my favorite is now Blackadder. Hilarious. Absolutely hilarious. British comedy from the 80's is pretty much the best thing that ever was. If you've never seen Keeping Up Appearances, then you have no idea what I'm talking about, but if you are fortunate enough to catch public television's broadcasts of the Brit Com Comedy Club, then you know the feeling that comes over you, and you know better than to take a sip of anything until the break between shows (that's right, no commercial breaks on public television. Just pledge drives. Fancy, star-studded, incredibly watchable pledge drives). Oh, and yeah, that's Hugh Laurie up in that photo. Soooo funny.

Nova Science Now

Another shout out to PBS is this show with that guy, Neil deGrasse Tyson. Seriously funny guy. The show is entertaining and informational without being gimmicky. And sometimes there are songs. I like the songs. Come on. I know science is in the title, but it's a good show. If you don't believe me, watch this. Come on, it's cute, and you might learn something.

Legend of the Seeker

Okay, I saved this one for last because I know what your eyes are doing right now, and you can just stop it. We are all allowed one of these types of shows, the kind that are so gloriously awful that they are actually wonderfully good, and this one is mine. And it is just as glorious as the poster suggests. People, I have tried not to watch this show, truth be told I don't really even know when it's on, except that it seems to be on all the time. So, just for you, I did a little research (I went to the Hulu page), and found out some stuff. Here's what you need to know: The Seeker, which is the guy on the guy in the poster, is going to save the world with the help of that lady in the poster, whom he is in love with but can never be with because...I don't want to ruin it for you. Th second season starts in November, and one of the Executive Producers is Sam Raimi (if you don't know this guy, get acquainted, because he's aaaah-sum!). And now, a link to the official sight. You know you want to go, and if you didn't before, I'll tell you this: the guy in the poster, the one with the buff arms, yeah he has an accent. Just wanted to let you know. You're welcome.

An Overall Crappy Day

I had a really enjoyable post planned for today, about what I've been watching on TV lately. I love TV. But that will have to wait, because today was so all around crappy that the only thing to do is ramble shortly about it in a poorly-constructed post and then pout pensively while trying to watch Conan. Three things, really. My skin is bad right now, for starters. Probably the most trivial of the three, but girls you know how it feels when your skin is just not doing its best, and it's as if everything else in life is affected by it. Secondly, Blake Snyder died suddenly. If you don't know who he is, I have his blog linked down there to the right. This guy has taught me almost everything I know in the area of screenwriting. Plus, apparently he was a nice guy. Thirdly, and most suckingly, I've discovered that my big, very exciting screenplay idea I was so looking forward to writing has already been written. Script Shadow posted the idea from a represented writer who has not sold it yet. Basically, it's about a guy who finds a tree that grows actual for real money. That was my idea. I've had the idea since 2004. It was one of my first screenplays, and I never finished it. I finally revamped it, and was ready to go. Then this. They always tell you this will happen to you at some point, and I always thought for some reason it wouldn't happen to me so soon. Oh well. It's a good idea, I hope it gets made at some point and in some form. My form would have been preferable, but that's just the way my day was going anyhow. If it is any consolation to myself, I much prefer my approach to the story concept. But, then again, who doesn't like their own stuff better? Ah, suck.

Suck, suck, suck.

Victory Is Mine!

If you'll please draw your attention to the right of this screen, you will see that the progress bar for Goodland is full! Rejoice! Yes, that's right, Rejoice! I kept with it, resisting the alluring temptation of starting a shiny new script, and here I have a finished product ready to be sent to the real guys, the big guns, the people who take my money and in return crush my dreams with their expert criticism. Ah well. I will savor this moment even in the knowledge of its pending demise. This is what we're supposed to do: write script-edit script-finish script. Rinse. Repeat. And I intend to repeat. I have a new idea I'm really excited about, and as soon as I actually and for real decide to start writing, I'll tell you all about it. For now, cookies, milk, and more Pride & Prejudice & Zombies!

Script vs Script!

This Monday! Monday! Monday night! Script smackdown - Boring Editing Process versus Exciting New Script Idea. Who will be named the victor?!

Unfortunately, nobody wins in this accurate, albeit strange metaphor. So, I've got this Goodland script back with notes all over it (excellent notes, might I add - thank you Brittany), but then I've got my new script idea, which I've already outlined and completed the 40-scene breakdown for. What should I do? There's the lure of the shiny new script idea, but then there's that old faithful script, that time-tested Goodland which has proven itself through edit after edit to be without the plot holes and character misrepresentations - problems my new script is sure to present. Is it wrong to start a new script without completely and totally finishing the other? Am I cheating on Goodland? Can you cheat on a script? And is it cheating if I've only outlined it?

Okay, that's enough metaphor for this evening. I had cake for dinner, so I'm a little hyper. Let's lay the question out there: should you finish your current project before beginning a new one? And by finish, I mean get all the notes back and make the necessary changes so that it is ready to be sent out to the people you actually pay to read it, and I mean the people you pay with money and not banana bread (although I have it on good authority that a certain someone enjoyed her banana bread very much). At first, I don't see the harm in starting a new project. I can refer to the older, almost finished one whenever I want, and isn't it good to let a script ruminate, breath, travel around in the mind for a while until something occurs to you that would be perfect for it, so you pick it up again and have that special moment of brilliance? But we all know those people, or rather that feeling we get when those people tell us they have a script they've been working on for years. Years. I don't ever want to tell someone that I have a script I've been working on for years. Finish it. Finish it, and move on. Isn't that the name of the spec game? Makin' sausage? Shoveling crap until the pile is so high that someone has to notice it? Am I reading too many scriptwriting blogs?

So, I'm not entirely sure what to do. I think I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to work on Goodland until it is totally, wholly, 100% ready to be sent to a professional reader, and not until then will I set it down. And if I just can't help myself, I'll secretly work on the other project. But I'll try not to (but I probably will).

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies...and Emma Woodhouse?

As an aside (oh yes, it is perfectly acceptable to begin a post with an aside), I would like to draw your attention to the right of this blog, where my progress bar for Goodland, Phase: Edit, has reached its goal. My Manager/writing buddy/fearless leader is now in possession of it, and I await her most excellent notes.

Moving on. Friday was my birthday, and my most astute husband picked up the hints I'd been meticulously dropping for weeks and bought me what I really wanted: Pride and Prejudice and Zombies! So delightful. I am a Jane Austen purist, at heart. I do not like people trifling with Dame Jane (okay, maybe she's not a Dame per say, but in my imagination she was actually knighted - she would have preferred that). I don't enjoy the idea of having her beautifully crafted works dumbed down into two hour movies that do no justice to her brilliant characters or her subtle commentary on class. There are but two exceptions to this, the BBC A&E miniseries Pride and Prejudice, starring Colin Firth (the real Mr. Darcy), and Emma Thompson's most excellent Sense and Sensibility, which represents the very best of Jane and Thompson both. I'm not one for The Jane Austen Book Club, or Becoming Jane - A whole movie about a woman we know very little about, and who led what can only be assumed to be a very secluded and lonely life - I think not. Me thinks they had to make up a lot of stuff. That being said, I couldn't be more excited to read this Zombie-laden version of Austen's classic work. I think it displays the very best of classic literature tampering, at once ridiculous and hilarious, utterly stupid and yet completely genius. Were Austen alive today, I think she would be extremely diverted.

However...

I have come across one tiny, minute point of discontent with this, my soon to be most favoritest book ever. That is, the portrait Quirk Classics (or whoever it is who owns them) chose for the cover. We are to suppose it to be Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine of this tale, be it with or without zombies. She is displayed with deliciously gory detail, which I immediately ascertained to be nothing short of spectacular, and had I not been already reading Emma, I would have abandoned my current book and begun reading this one right away. But I am of the opinion that one Austen should never be slighted for the other, so I resolved to finish Emma before beginning P&P&Z! Taking up my copy of Emma, I saw something familiar. I went back to my new book and discovered the truth. Holding them side by side, it was revealed that the portrait of the zombified Elizabeth Bennet was indeed not Elizabeth Bennet, but her complete character opposite in almost every way, Emma Woodhouse! Who has no relation to that work at all. So now what? Is it Emma, or Lizzy? Penguin Classics seems to think it Emma, while this Quirk Classics (whoever they are) seem to disagree. I, being the tie breaker, have to side with Penguin Classics, who claimed the portrait first, and therefore are in the right. So Quirk Classics has mistakenly, or blatantly, chosen Emma Woodhouse for their zombified tale where Elizabeth Bennet should have been present. This is my sole complaint. And it is but a trifling one.

Okay, tell me you see it.

New Blogroll Addition, and A Word About Wes Anderson

I think it's pretty apparent that I'm very particular about what goes on my blogroll, considering up to this point there are only three links on there (so, particular or just ignorant of all the blog-like resources out there to script writers... I'll go with particular). But today I am going to induct a fourth. ScriptShadow is brilliant. Thank you to my Manager for sharing. Just as my life was spiralling downward under the weight of increasing expectations of keeping up with all that is screenwritery, here is a website that will make available to me the newest scripts, ready to read, along with insight into who is playing what part and who is making it. Brilliant! I love it. Thank you Carson Reeves, whoever you are. And the very first screenplay I read off this blog was Leap Year, a romantic comedy written by Deborah Kaplan and Harry Elfont (I know, I never heard of them either). Seek it out. It's wonderful, and I mean that exactly as it sounds, very light and pleasant and feel-good. Wonderful. As Carson says, the first act tries too hard, but push past the first fifteen pages and I promise you will not be able to walk away. You are going to have actual and for real emotional responses to this (dare I say it?) gem. But more important than the short-term good feeling this movie evokes is the long-term benefits of reading such a well presented story. I learned some things, some things I didn't know how to do before. Looks I didn't know how to write into a movie before, gestures, little tricks for your action lines that make them less perfunctory but at the same time not stepping on any other creative toes. I'm going to admit something that I may wish I hadn't later on, but I can probably count the number of screenplays I have ever read on one hand and one finger. Quite literally. Including Leap Year. And then I wonder, "why can't I write good?" I realize more now than ever the importance of reading what you wish to write. And not just things that represent how you want to write, but if you want to write romantic comedies, you may want to bend your focus that-a-way. Some might read Leap Year and think it formulaic, and it is. That's why it works. Formulas work. Patterns work. You don't criticize a seamstress because they followed a pattern, you rather expect them to. You want your shirt to look like a shirt, not a pair of house slippers. The brilliance comes when you can take that same old shirt pattern, add a few buttons here, ruffles there, maybe a lighter fabric (this is obviously a lady's blouse), and there you go. Something old, but new. Something familiar, but different. It's a shirt, but it's... okay, you get it, you get it. It's metaphor. Check.

And now for something completely different...

Wes Anderson. This guy I don't get. I watched The Darjeeling Limited last night (yesterday was a very good day for me, cinematically speaking), and for the first twenty minutes I thought, "here we go again. This guy is just being an 'artist.' He's trying to be 'different,'" and I'm not too big on different where my movies are concerned. I like the shirt pattern (oh yeah, I'm gonna drive that shirt pattern thing into the ground). And then, somewhere in like the tenth slow motion sequence, I realized what was going on here. This guy is just on another level. Maybe it's not a higher level, maybe there's no hierarchy to be had here, but somehow he's a little further down the road than I am. And it's captivating in a way, after you accept the fact that maybe the turning point and the "raising the stakes" moment aren't going to be that easy to see. But they're there, in some form, or maybe I just imagine them to help me relate. But it's taken me years of Wes Anderson to realize how good he is. He really is good. I don't know him personally, I don't know what he's really like, whether or not he has a good reputation with the Who's Who of the Where It's At, but he does something that makes me watch what would otherwise be gibberish in the hands of anyone else. I may be a bit tardy with this epiphany, but there it is. Now I've admitted two embarrassing things in one blog: the fact that I haven't read that many screenplays, and that it's taken me until now to appreciate Wes Anderson. I am quite ashamed at myself. Horribly, horribly ashamed.

The Whole Screenwriting Process and Its Relevance to Baking Banana Bread at 11:08pm

I got home from Harpo's (more on that in a moment), and realized that the bananas I had been waiting to turn had in fact been excreting some kind of juice in the bottom of the Ziploc bag, so regardless of the hour, banana bread had to be made. I might have made it this afternoon, but I was lazy taking a nap. Most people say busy taking a nap, but I prefer lazy taking a nap, because that's pretty much what it boils down to. That's what I do when I'm overwhelmed, I take a nap, and this afternoon I was overwhelmed, I am overwhelmed. There's just so much to do. You're supposed to write as much as you can, but also keep up on what others are writing, so that means reading screenplays to get the feel for new things, but also be sure you keep an eye on what is coming out so that you understand the market, but don't just watch trailers, see the movies, since that's what you're writing anyway. Then you need to make sure you've got time to read real books, because that's important too, but also make time to get involved in the writing community, in person and on the web. That's what I was doing at Harpo's. It's where The Kansas City Screenwriters meet, and that's the kind of thing aspiring screenwriters should be doing, meeting up with other aspiring screenwriters to exchange ideas and whatnots. It's all good stuff, just taking it in all at once can seem daunting. How am I supposed to accomplish all these things on a consistent basis while maintaining a job and eventually school, taking care of the husband, and finding time to bake banana bread at a reasonable hour? Blake Snyder says I should be spitting out four scripts a year. I can't imagine! It's not possible in my current state. I would have to change my surroundings, my circumstances, altogether to make that feasible. Am I willing to do that? Probably not. I want it my way. I want to get my school done, live a happy non-neurotic life, maintain a healthy love life, and produce good, quality scripts at a rate of about one per year. If I can't make it doing that, then right now I'm just not going to make it. I'll have to wait. And some day, I'll get tired of not making it and things will change. But I'm not there yet. I want to make it my way. So I'm making banana bread at 11:08pm. That's fine. I'm hungry anyway.

It's Time To Edit, and I'm In the Best Shape of My Life!

Seriously, the best thing you can do for your body is enter into the editing process. That old gym membership will resurface from out of nowhere, and suddenly you can't edit your screenplay because you have to go workout. You can't work on your first 10, you have to do the dishes. Yeah, editing is good for basically every area of your life except the screenplay editing part. I am so well-groomed right now. I've been shaving my legs. I painted my toenails. I've been using that sunless tanner, consistently. I've been blogging! I'd be such an overwhelming success as a person right now if not for this darn screenplay I wrote and now have to fix up. I liken it to the birthing process (yes, eye rolling and sarcastic blurps akin to "how original" would be appropriate now). You birth this screenplay in all the pomp and furry of the delivery process, fast and painful, but mostly fast (this is like my third child, not that 29-hour-labor first child), and when it comes out it has all the regular baby parts, it's just looks hideous all covered in goo and what not. And I feel great because I can actually see what I've created, but then they place that thing in your arms and you get your first really good look at it and realize it'll be weeks before this baby doesn't look like some kind of alien freak. My screenplay is a little beyond alien freak. It was actually born kind of pretty, like those newborns with full heads of hair. But there's still a lot of work to do, and I want to get it done before school starts.

Oh yeah, I'm going to nursing school in the Fall. Let's not talk about that again, okay?

So as a motivational tactic, and because I've been making a habit of stealing whatever widget Sarah has, I've put in a little progress bar over to the right there. You see it now. I will update it to show my progress, if editing can be measured in terms of progress, so that you, but mostly me, can keep track of where I'm at. Hopefully, the shame of not finishing what I have already proclaimed as a certain fact, that I will finish this before that unmentionable August happening, will be sufficient enough to carry me all the way to the end of that bar. And now I must go. I have food blogs to catch up on (I started baking!).

48 Hour Film Project: meeting the first

Tonight I and my writing buddy/pitch partner/manager Elizabeth (who's excellent blog you can find at the bottom right of this page) attended our first ever meet&greet for the 48 hour film project. It's pretty much how it sounds: you get a team together and write, shoot and edit a film in 48 hours. According to the guy running this one, we'll all get together on the first night and pick out of a hat the genre of our film, then everyone is given the same prop, a character, and a line of dialogue, all which must be present in each 5-7 minute film. I am excited. As a writer, this is what you do. You find people in your area who like doing the same thing as you, you join these people in whatever capacity you can, and you all do what you like to do together. And granted, given only 48 hours, this thing might be terrible, but even so the experience must be worth something. Not just one something - a lot of somethings, at the very least. I'll say it again: I am excited!

Internet Up In Here!

Let's get right into it, shall we? I've been gone for a while, for a really long while. For a year while. Well, I'm back. Sorry for the delay, but moving on to bigger news: I've got internet up in my house! Most of you may miss the incredible feat this really represents, but this is the very first time I've ever in my whole adult life had internet in my very home. Can I tell you how weird it is to be posting this sitting on my couch and not drinking a $4 coffee drink? It's fantastic. I can't imagine letting my blog go for as long as I did this time around, what with the internet at my fingertips above and beyond regular midwest business hours. Crazy. All you who have had this luxury for so long, revisit the magic, the wonder of the world wide web, if only to remind yourselves of how excellent it is, because excellent it truly is. I try not to ascribe the word "love" to inanimate objects, but I love this internet!