But what if you can't figure out what the problem is? What do you do then? Well, no matter how bewildered you feel, there's always a way to move toward a solution. When you are unable to define the problem, guess. Guessing is a wonderful tool. After all, guessing is a major part of creating fiction. Fiction is a game of
wondering and guessing and imagining. So, when you can't figure out the problem, ask yourself, "What might it be? What are the possibilities?"
ANECDOTES
Here are some anecdotes that make some good points about all of this.
When Tom Wolfe had his first major assignment as a reporter, he did all of the legwork and got all the information ready and then became totally blocked. He went to his boss, the editor, and told him that he couldn't do it. The editor said, "OK, get all your material together, put it down so someone can make sense out of it, and I'll have George do it." Wolfe went home, wrote, "Dear George, this is what I have," at the top of the page, then laid out all the information for him. When he took it in the next day and handed it to his boss, his boss took it, scratched out "Dear George" and told him to give it to the printer. (When the pressure is off, you write better. You may have to trick yourself into it.)
In another anecdote, Wolfe says that he goes to write at a studio away from his home so he won't be distracted. He says that he first gave himself so many hours to put in before he could leave and go home. But he found that he could waste 4, 5, or 6 hours doing nothing just as easily as he could waste 2 or 3. His solution was to force himself to write 1 page per half hour until he wrote 4 pages, and then he could quit. He says that he's always able to force out 1 page every half hour even when it seems awful. On bad days he does his 4 pages and quits. The strange thing, he says, is that later on when he looks back over what he's written, he can't tell the difference between the pages he forced out and the ones he wrote when he felt inspired. (You
can't trust your emotions when they're negative. No writer can judge his own work.)
A little girl asked her father what he did at the school where he worked. "I teach people how to draw pictures," he said. "You mean they forgot?" she said. (You have what you need already. You just have to learn [remember] how to use it.)
A mother asked her little boy what he was drawing. "I'm drawing a picture of God," he said. "But no one knows what God looks like," she said. "They will when I get done," he said.
The teacher divided her pottery class into two groups. The first group was told they would be graded only on quality. They would make only one pot that semester, but spend the entire time making the perfect pot. The second group was told that they would be graded on quantity alone. The more pots they made, the higher their grades. At the end of the semester, which group do you think made the better pots? The quantity group had produced far better pots than the quality group. (Quantity leads to quality. You cannot learn on one pot—or one story.)
Write the way you talk. The language of fiction is simple, emotional, direct. Don't send the reader to the dictionary. Use small words.
DAILY PREP LIST
These are things we need to remind ourselves of over and over. This list is worth going over on a regular basis to help prevent blocking.
There is always resistance to writing the first line. Write an instant line as soon as you sit down.
You must write badly first.
You don't think in order to write. You write in order to think. You don't get into the mood to write. You write to get into the mood. Write first. Think second.
You don't do it. It does you. Open up, and let it happen. Get out of the way.
Negative emotions (attacks on your work or yourself) are always wrong and beside the point. Whatever is happening is OK. It's the process, not you.
The story already exists. You're just writing to uncover the pieces and fit them together.
You are as good as your best writing. If you stick to it, no matter how deeply you slump, you will return to your best level and exceed it. Then you will fall away again. It's up and down just like the rest of your life (good days and bad days). You will always fall away, but you will always come back and exceed yourself—if you stick to it. Bad days are as important as good ones.
CONCLUSION
Now you have thirteen remedies plus some other ways of looking at blocking to help you when you get blocked. When you find yourself blocked, follow the procedure I've laid out for you in this chapter. It's no time to get into a discussion with yourself. First, put your feelings aside as best you can and practice your craft (chapter 8). If you're not unblocked after that, do the first four remedies in the list as part of one approach. Then, if you're not unblocked, start doing the others in whatever order appeals to you. If you do that, you will be unblocked long before you do them all.
All the techniques in this chapter and in the entire course are merely tools designed to help you uncover the energy and drama you
have in you. Tools are neutral. You can use them to write anything you want any way you want to write it.
EXERCISES
Two people competing for the love of a third person. Having to be nice to someone who's treating you badly. Being in a place where you don't belong—physically or psychologically.
[16] Stage and Screen
This chapter may seem too short to cover both screenwriting and playwriting. But it's not, because the story form (conflict, action, resolution) is identical whether it's on the page, stage, or screen. There is no difference. So, what you've learned about story up to here has given you everything you need to create a story for the screen or stage. Also, because stories for stage or screen don't get into the mind the way the written story does, they're actually easier to write.
It's important to realize that books and courses on writing screenplays or stage plays are 95 percent story and 5 percent format. That tells us two things. One, story is the all-important ingredient. Two, there isn't that much to the format. What you get in this chapter is all you need to sell your play or screenplay—if you have a strong story. Have I said it often enough? It's the story, the whole story, and nothing but the story.
I don't recommend any stage play or screenplay books (or any other books) on story craft. All the books I've read on story (over two hundred) are either too vague or too complicated or give misleading ad-
vice. I wrote this book to provide what I couldn't find in any of the books I read.
So, the story form moves comfortably from one medium to the other. Novels become movies. Stage plays become movies. Novels become stage plays and then movies (Of Mice and Men). Once in a while a movie is made into a novel, rarely successfully. Stage plays often lose something when made into movies, since they are created for a confined space. Opening them up without interfering with the flow of the story is tricky. Also, the chemistry between live actors and the audience is lost on the screen.
But novels tend to lose the most when translated onto the screen, with a few exceptions. Midnight Cowboy was a weak novel that was made into an excellent movie. A novel is almost always too hefty to get into a single movie, so we only get part of it. Lonesome Dove was made into a multipart TV movie that had pretty much the whole story. They did an excellent job—about as good as possible. But was it as good as the book? No. If it was as good as it could have been, but still was not as strong as the book, what was the problem?
That brings us to the important difference between the written story and the performed story. The written story, as I've said before, gets into the mind. It gets into the secret life, the secret thoughts, of the character—the things the character will tell no one. So, by definition, you can't express such thoughts on stage or screen, since you only have speech. The stage uses asides or soliloquies, but unless you're Shakespeare or deliberately writing in an antique style, it doesn't work with modern audiences. Movies sometimes use voice-over, but a little of it goes a long way. It works best in comedy (Alfie) and as used in the soaps is often unintentionally comic or heavy-handed. American Bea
uty used it well, but sparingly. In contrast, novels are full of thoughts presented word for word on the page as they occur in the character's mind.
You can get close to the character's thoughts, and you must, you must find a way for your character to express his deeper feelings, often by forcing him to reveal them. That's the tricky part of doing a stage play or screenplay. So, on the one hand, we could say that what's easier about a stage play or screenplay is that everything is spoken, it's all dialogue, and you don't have to get into the character's mind. On the other hand, we could say that what's trickier about a stage play or screenplay is that everything must be spoken. It's all dialogue. You cannot get into the character's mind. However you put it, you can never go as deeply into the character on stage or screen as you can in the written story.
So, the screenplay, because it's all dialogue (doesn't get into the mind) and is not confined by setting, is the easiest to write. It is, however, because of the nature of the film industry, a lot harder to market. A lot of people have to agree, have to come together, to work together and put out a huge amount of money to produce a film. All of these are obstacles. Stage plays are similar in that, again, a lot of people have to agree and cooperate to put them together. (More on stage play and screenplay marketing later.)
The story form is identical, but the format for screenplays and stage plays are quite different from the written story and from each other.
SCREENPLAY
What you need to sell a screenplay, besides a good story, is a spec script. A spec script is not what is used to shoot a movie. That's called a shooting script and has all the technical directions for shooting the movie. It's not the best way to showcase your story. You want your story to be as readable as possible. So, you should only put in enough
shooting directions to allow the reader to understand the story, and no more. If you're not a filmmaker, you shouldn't get into them, because you'll look like an amateur. If you are a filmmaker, you should know better already. Both spec and shooting scripts use the same format. Screenplays are from 90 to 120 pages long.
The screenplay for Basic Instinct, bought for three million dollars, contained only dialogue, scene headings, and description. That's what we'll concentrate on here. That's all you need.
Remember, you should only be putting down what can be seen or heard. Don't describe how the character feels. "He was furious. He could stand it no longer. He had to strike out" should not be in a script. Those feelings are what the character is supposed to be expressing through actions—what can be filmed.
"You having a good time?" Mario said, pushing away from the card table. "A great time," said Eddie. "That's my money you got in front of you," said Mario. "Not anymore." "Money ain't gonna help you where you're going." Mario raised his pistol. "Say good-bye to your last pot."
Although this isn't in script form, it's all visual.
There's really nothing tricky about the screenplay form. It's all perfectly logical, just another way of doing the same old thing—telling a story, another way of showing what's going on with language—the language of film. Instead of describing a setting, you say:
INT. LARGE KITCHEN—DAY
Outside the window over the sink, a DIRTY, BEARDED FACE appears. The face bobs back and forth, looking down into the kitchen sink.
("INT." stands for interior.) It's a simple matter of giving us what we need to see. In an early chapter, I said that fiction is a most visual medium. I was talking about the written story. The written story is at least as visual as film. If the reader doesn't have a picture in his head, your story is in trouble. So, in that sense, this is nothing new. It's just slightly different language for telling a story. The main thing is that you don't have to know how to make a film to write a good screenplay. You don't have to know how to use a camera, light a scene, edit film, etc. The professionals who read your screenplay see things in cinematic terms and will have their own ideas on how to film it. You don't want to get in the way of their expertise.
Don't get me wrong. You need to learn the form and know how to put your story into it. But in the end, it's your story that does the job—that sells your screenplay. If you can tell a strong story, the world (Hollywood included) will beat a path to your door.
Basically there are three elements: 1 Headings. 2 Description. 3 Dialogue.
Here's how it's done:
1 EXT. WHEAT FIELD—DAY
2 A WOMAN is running through the wheat pursued by a MAN on horseback
3 WOMAN
The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.
He leadeth me to green pastures.
2 She turns and looks at the horseman bearing down on her.
3 WOMAN
Bastard. Son of a bitch. Jesus, please. Just
this once.
Those are the fundamentals of the screenplay form. There are a lot more things that you can do. Just think about it. A close-up of the rider's face. An over-the-shoulder shot as he bears down on the woman. You might come in from an aerial shot of the two characters from high above. The thing is not to get bogged down in these particulars unless you have a sense for them. Get your story out first, with scene headings, dialogue, and description, then go back and put in as many shooting directions as you think you can get away with. But be careful not to overdo it. Check out books by Syd Field and The Screenwriter's Bible by David Trotter. They both have different ways of presenting the same material and are both worth looking at if you want to get into more specifics. But you don't have to. If you're not sure that something is needed, leave it out. Both books do a good job on format, but I don't recommend them or any others for story.
In terms of type style, the standard is twelve-point Courier. You won't go wrong with that. You might go wrong with others. Don't get fancy with any of this—no pictures, no fancy paper, fancy cover, fancy binding, or fancy title page. The only thing that you have to sell is your story. Stick to that. To bind your screenplay, use a heavy, solid-color cover and bind it together with a three-hole, round-head fastener. It should be typed only on one side, on white, 8Y2 x 11 paper. The title page should have the title in the middle of the page with "a screenplay by [your name]" under it. In the lower right-hand corner, put your address and phone number. That's all. Your screenplay begins on the next page with "FADE IN:" at the left-hand margin. It ends with "FADE OUT." Do not number your scenes.
The next thing that you need to do before you try to market your screenplay is to protect it. You can do that by copyrighting it and by registering it with the Writers Guild of America.
Copyrighting is easy. All you have to do is get the forms and fill them out. They're very simple. For screenplays you need the Class PA
(performing arts) forms. They're free. You can get them by writing to: Information and Publications Section, Copyright Office, Library of Congress, Washington, DC 20559. Request the "Application for Copyright Registration." Or you can call 202-707-3000 and order the forms over the phone. Internet: www.loc.gov/copyright.
To register with the Writers Guild, contact the Writers Guild of America, 555 West 57th St., New York, NY 10019. Phone: 212-757-4360. Internet: http://www.wga.org/.
You do not have to include copyright or registration information on your screenplay, but it's important to copyright it.
You've written your screenplay. You've protected it. Now it's time to market it. The screenplay game is the most cutthroat of all. There's a wide range of advice. The advice covers the gamut from saying that you must move to L.A. where the action is to saying that you can market your screenplay just as easily from Peoria, Illinois. To cover the different strategies would take another one to two hundred pages, so I'm going to have to cop out by referring you elsewhere. Selling Scripts to Hollywood by Katherine Atwell Herbert is worth looking at. Writer's Market also has a section on marketing screenplays. These books will also tell you how to enter screenplay contests and will give you a list of them. The contest prizes range from $250 to $25,000. In addition, they're judged by p
rofessionals who are on the lookout for new material. Even if you don't win, you'll get exposure and have a chance of selling your screenplay that way.
A good reference guide in all of this is Writer's Guide to Hollywood Producers, Directors and Screenwriter's Agents by Jeff Herman, from Skip Press. This book also gives you the ins and outs of marketing your screenplay.
Another thing to consider is that it may well be easier to break into movies by writing your story as a novel. As I said in an earlier chapter, the mystery is the easiest kind of novel to write and the easiest to
sell. Also, you can write a solid mystery thriller without having to get so deeply into your character's mind (the hardest part). Literary agents and publishers are well aware of movie rights that are part of many book deals. Pay attention, when you see a movie, to the screenplay credits and see how many say, "From the novel by_." A
huge number of novels are turned into movies. Also, there's nothing stopping you from writing the novel and then the screenplay and marketing them together. But don't force yourself. If your heart's not in it, chances are it won't work.
STAGE PLAY
Once again, I remind you, story is story, no matter where you find it. The form is the same in a stage play (conflict + action + resolution) as in any other kind of story. Traditionally it's Act One: conflict, Act Two: action, Act Three: resolution. The difference is that it's all dialogue (no thoughts) and a confined space. As a beginning playwright, don't write anything that requires elaborate staging. Keep it simple and inexpensive to stage, with as few set changes as possible. Pay attention to the plays you see. Also, check out A Streetcar Named Desire and The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams, Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf by Edward Albee.
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