John August

QandA

Free ebooks correlated with increased print-book sales

Books, Film Industry, The Variant

Cory Doctorow [points to a BYU study](http://www.boingboing.net/2010/03/04/free-ebooks-correlat.html) that shows releasing a free ebook version may boost sales of the printed edition.

You’d love to see a bigger sample, and correlation does not imply causation. But to me, it suggests that increased sampling usually generates more sales than it costs.

Advance screenings of movies work the same way. When a studio expects good word of mouth, they are often willing to give up a day’s box office ((When you buy a ticket for a sneak preview of The Proposal, it’s actually counted towards another film, generally one from the same studio currently playing at that theater.)) in order to get more people talking about their movie. They’ll also conduct word-of-mouth screenings tailored to specific audiences. “Free” and “exclusive” are big motivators.

(thanks Howard Rodman)

On Alice in Wonderland

Directors, Film Industry, Projects

Because people keep asking: I didn’t work on Disney’s Tim Burton-directed *Alice in Wonderland*. At all.

The movie was written by Linda Woolverton. I never read the script, and haven’t seen a frame beyond the trailers and commercials. I’ll get to see the film for the first time on Monday, and really look forward to it.

With that clarification out of the way, let me explain a strange fact of my career: I’ve *not written* Alice in Wonderland three times. It’s a recurring motif.

1995
—-

The story that became Go was originally envisioned as a retelling of Alice, substituting the underground rave scene for Wonderland. As it developed, I pretty thoroughly scotched those ambitions, but you can still see vestigial elements in the first section of the film:

* Ronna, like Alice, charges boldly into unknown territory, and proves unexpectedly brave in the face of strange events.
* She visits a smoking psychedelicist who talks in riddles but ultimately helps her.
* Poorly labeled drugs are consumed with unanticipated consequences.
* A talking (telepathic) cat offers advice.

Other than the cat, these are all extremely tenuous connections. I would never claim that Go is remotely an adaptation of Alice. Rather, I had Alice bumping around in my head during Go’s genesis, and some Alice DNA worked its way into the genotype. For example, the yellow Miata was for a long time a white Volkwagen Rabbit.

2000
—

Shortly after the release of Go, producer Paul Rosenberg brought me to E3 to introduce me to American McGee, who was working on a [videogame adaptation](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_McGee’s_Alice) of Alice. The world he had come up with was dark and spectacular. American and I hit it off so well that two hours later we were pitching a movie version to director Wes Craven.

Craven said yes, and Miramax bought it the next day. They wanted the movie out within a year.

But I was already committed to writing three other projects. So we reached a compromise: rather than writing the script, I would write a detailed treatment laying out the characters, story and world. So I did. The document was 21 single-spaced pages. American McGee liked it, as did the producers. Wes Craven didn’t. And thus began a series of writers and re-imaginings that as far as I know may continue to this day. It’s been in turnaround several times.

I left the project having a friendly relationship with American McGee, who later introduced me to fellow game designer Jordan Mechner. Which begat the movie version of Prince of Persia and several other collaborations.

2007
—-

While standing in the registration line for the Sundance Film Festival, where The Nines was about to premiere, I got a call asking if I would be interested in writing an adaptation of Alice in Wonderland for director Sam Mendes at Dreamworks. I said yes as I was trying on my official Sundance parka.

I met with Sam in New York and pitched my take, which blended a lot of Lewis Carroll’s biography into the story. As before, I was backed up on other projects (including the release of The Nines), so it would be six months before I could get started. I got about 40 pages written before the WGA strike began, at which point I had to stop working.

During the strike, Disney’s Woolverton-scripted Alice roared to life when Tim Burton signed on to direct it. I’d always been aware of it as a potentially-competing project, but now my Alice would be going up against the guy who had directed my last three films. It didn’t matter that our takes were wildly different; the world didn’t need or want two pricey Alice in Wonderland movies.

The day the strike ended, I called Sam Mendes, the studio, the producer, and my agent. Tim Burton’s movie was already in preproduction. It was pointless for me to keep writing something that couldn’t and shouldn’t get made. After a few days of discussion, we reached an agreement. I wrote a check back to Dreamworks and the project was killed.

This adaption of Alice was the closest of any of mine to becoming real. I love what I wrote, so it’s disappointing and frustrating that it won’t end up on screen. But that reality is a big part of any working screenwriter’s life. Much more important than this half-written movie was maintaining relationships with studios and filmmakers I hope to keep working with for the next few decades.

I left Alice to write a different movie for Sam Mendes and two more projects for Tim Burton. So, as before, my failed Alice had a curious number of upsides.

2025
—-

Considering it’s been 15 years to this point, I suspect it may be another 15 before I finally write an Alice in Wonderland. That’s okay. Writers aren’t Olympic athletes; we can have very long careers.

Whatever the future looks like, Alice in Wonderland will still be relevant. Depending on your approach, the story can be silly, scary, ominous or charming. Is it a dark parable of computerized dystopia? Sure. Candy-colored comedy of manners? Perfect.

Alice has become one of our fundamental myths, an ur-story that thrives through perpetual reinvention. I’m looking forward to seeing this year’s Alice, and all the ones thereafter.

Can I base a character on a real asshole?

Psych 101, QandA, Rights and Copyright, Story and Plot

questionmarkI’m planning on writing a script about a character who is based heavily on somebody I know (a local comedienne), with a few other people thrown into the mix. As a character, I find her fascinating. Normally, I would just ask the person in question and they would most likely agree. However, the character in the new script is a big jerk, completely devoid of any empathy, tact, or manners, much like the real person. I’m not going to ask her if I can make a movie based on how big of an asshole she is, and I’m worried that she’s just the kind of asshole who would sue me if I did.

I’ve changed the name of the character, but I want her to be a comedienne, as this fits really well with the story. Most of the other aspects of the story are completely made-up, and I’ll probably only include a few situations based on real events.

Can I get in trouble for creating a character with the same personality and the same profession as the real person? How much can I get away with? Can I include things that this person has said in real life? This character is fascinating and needs to have her story told!

— Lex
Calgary, Alberta

Yes, you can get in trouble. She could sue you for libel, defamation — or the equivalent under Canadian law. By your description, she probably *would* sue, so you’ve really answered your own question.

Don’t poke bears.

As a writer, you’re naturally going to be drawn towards real-life people who are fascinating. That’s a good thing. Observe behavior. Figure out motivations and pathology. Then forget the real person.

Unless you’re writing a bio-pic, don’t base characters on anyone who actually exists. Not only are you exposing yourself to legal trouble, you’re ultimately shortchanging yourself as a writer. Real people are good in the real world, but you need characters that *feel* real in the universe of your story.

So stop thinking about this character as being the comedienne. Rip a photo out of a magazine and decide your character looks like this woman instead. What does her voice sound like? Where does she live? Is one of her neighbors stealing her mail? Is she trying to avoid her Bible-quoting brother?

Make her situation specific, and specifically different than the comedienne. It’s okay to admit to yourself that she inspired your character — inspiration is free to the universe. But every detail should be something you created, discovered, or wove in from the hundreds of other people you have studied. Your story will be better for it.

Should I mention the script was optioned?

Film Industry, QandA, Rights and Copyright

questionmarkI had a script optioned for about 18 months, it has now fallen out of option and is back in my hands for further marketing.

My question is, when sending queries should I mention that this title was previously optioned? I don’t know how a production company or agent/manager might view this. Would it be a good thing because someone else thought the script had potential or a bad thing because they weren’t able to sell it?

— Mark Violi
New Jersey

You have two different audiences.

For agents and managers, absolutely mention that it had been optioned. Anything which shows that producers are interested in your work makes you more attractive as a potential client.

Producers and production companies aren’t necessarily going to be excited that someone else had the project before them. Yes, it validates their taste a bit, but they may worry that the script has already been burned out around town. If everyone has read it and passed, what are they going to do with it, exactly?

If someone asks, always be honest about the project’s history. But you don’t have to lead with that information.

Also, it’s legit (and common practice) to make a few changes to a script and put a new date on the cover. If you’re trying to shop a script that says 2007 on the title page, there will be natural questions about why it’s so old.