John August

Psych 101

Does bad work spoil mine?

Psych 101, QandA, Recycled

questionmarkI work for a small production company.
While trying to break into the "next" (bigger)
level as a screenwriter, I work here as a reader. Basically, I spend a lot
of time writing coverages for awful scripts that never should have been written
in the first place. I often wonder what is going through some of these people’s
minds when they send this junk out.

I don’t really know when it happened, but at some point it
seems that everyone in the world decided they wanted to be screenwriters. My
question is this: does all that subpar work poison the water for the rest of
us truly
capable folks?

–Aaron Saylor

I hear you, brother.

I worked as a reader for about a year and a half, both at Tri-Star and at
a little production company based at Paramount. During that time, I read the
worst scripts of my life — horrible, horrible atrocities worse than a dozen
cable movies.

In writing coverage, half the time my plot summary was much clearer than the
script’s true narrative, and my comments section became an exercise in finding
creative ways to express the same underlying truth: this script is not a movie,
and this writer doesn’t know what he’s doing.

I got a taste of my own medicine later, when I slipped one of my scripts under
a pseudonym to an intern whose opinion I respected. His coverage lambasted
the screenplay and the untalented hack who created it. I actually got nauseous
reading his critique.

Since then, I’ve learned to temper my disgust for poorly written scripts,
and try to view them as the little lessons they are. Once you start looking
for the common problems, you can avoid these pitfalls in your own writing:

  • Bad scripts introduce ten characters in the first four pages,
    without giving you any real information about them, or making clear which ones
    are important.
  • In bad scripts, characters talk about events you just saw happen, which makes
    seeing them redundant.
  • In bad scripts, characters are always walking through doors, as if it’s a
    play where they need to make entrances and exits.
  • In bad scripts, characters do exactly what you expect they’re going to do.

What’s interesting is that many of these lessons can only be learned by reading
bad screenplays. In a good script, you’d never know what you were missing.
So rather than blaming these bum writers for doing terrible work, rejoice in
their suckiness, and remember that their low standards make your great script
all the more unusual.

Getting sidetracked by other movies

Psych 101, QandA

I have this problem of losing my momentum when I’m writing due to shifts in my mood. I’ll be working on a pretty heavy dramatic piece and I’ll see something like a Wes Anderson film. If the film moves me enough, my overall mood will become whimsical (in this example) and I’ll lose that dramatic edge.

Does this ever happen to you? If so, what do you, outside of sealing yourself off from outside artistic influences (which may not be a bad idea)?

— Brandon
Los Angeles

Yes, this happens to me, and just about every writer I know. The problem is that screenplays are simply so long, and take so long to write, that it’s impossible to remain in one emotional state from start to finish.

All I can offer are some tricks to help you get back in the right mood.

1. Be an actor. Scene by scene, day by day, actors have to project emotions that they’re not naturally feeling. How do they do it? Well, you could and should read up on it — even taking a class is a good idea. But the short version is that they simply pretend. If you’re feeling glum and depressed as you sit down to work on your elephant-mating comedy, pretend you’re having a great day, and that you’re surrounded by people who think you’re funny. On the other hand, I wrote the finale for BIG FISH by deliberately bringing myself to tears before I started typing. Call it method screenwriting.

2. Create some triggers. While I don’t usually write with music playing, I often build an iTunes playlist of songs that feel right for a certain project. For instance, Ennio Morricone’s Hamlet soundtrack has a very spooky song that I used over and over when I needed to get properly freaked out for my never-to-be-made zombie western.

3. Acknowledge what it is about that Wes Anderson film you liked so much, but stop comparing it to what you’re writing. You know what? Wes Anderson goes to see movies, too, and probably feels the same kind of self-doubt when he sees something brilliant. But he gets over it. So get over it.

4. Re-read what you’ve already written. Nothing feels more like your movie than your movie.

5. Finally, do consider barricading yourself for a week or two if outside influences are keeping you from finishing. There’s a lot to be said for keeping other voices out of your head.

Regaining confidence when nothing is working

Psych 101, QandA

What do you do to regain confidence when your ideas don’t seem to be working or you can’t find an approach?

–Matthew Paul

A very smart writer colleague — and I can’t remember exactly which one, so she’ll remain nameless — takes the time to write a letter to herself when she starts a screenplay, describing how excited she feels to be working on it. Then, when the darkest day hits and she can’t go on, she opens the letter and reads it. That gives her the oomph to finish.

I think that’s remarkable. And completely insane. I mean, who writes letters to themselves? I could never do it. But if that would help you, be my guest.

As I’ve mentioned in countless other columns, I write out-of-sequence. So if I get to a scene that I just can’t crack, I move on to something else.

The greater problem is when I don’t want to be working on a specific project at all. Since I don’t have a magic letter-to-my-future-self, my fallback is to change my work patterns. I’ll write all night, or at a hotel, or longhand on the beach. I’ll write scenes that could never possibly be in the movie, just to break the characters out of the plot shackles I’ve set for them. (I find loud, shouting arguments — which I never normally write — are great for this purpose.)

A lot of it is just facing down your own self-doubt and attacking it. Easier said than done.

The fine line between talented and bonkers

Psych 101, QandA

questionmarkMy question is kind of a personal question for me to ask and possibly for you to answer. I’ve been a writer, well you could say my entire life, because it’s more than a profession it’s an identity, isn’t it? I find that I spend a lot of time “in my head” so to speak. That is to say, I spend probably 80% of my day day dreaming and fantasizing and exploring my imagination. Something that I know could be easily misinterpreted as a mental illness but nobody’s perfect.

Do you find yourself in similar shoes? And if so, do you find that your writing in a way sort of hinders your life? How do you cope? I sometimes talk myself, well quite often I can be found talking to myself. It’s like all the characters of the story I’m currently working on just start having dialogue and I’m able to just listen and try to decide if this dialogue has the right rhythm, whether this dialogue sounds like real people talking. I’m comfortable with all this and when it comes to writing I don’t think I’m all that bad. I was just curious to see if I have something in common with a successful writer.

–Josiah

answer iconWhen it comes to writers, there’s a fine line between talented and bonkers. Yes, I talk to myself. Yes, I zone out at times, and if you were to ask me where I was, the honest answer would be, “on a bridge in Mongolia.” But I think that’s fairly normal. I don’t worry about it much.

The closest I came to the far side of sane was during my tenure on [“D.C.”](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0202724/), a television show I created for the WB in 2000. The wonder of TV, of course, was that I was writing for the same characters and the same sets week after week. But once exhaustion set in, any bit of external stimulation — a conversation with a friend, a song on the radio — went through this filter in my head to ask the Big Question: Could I use this on the show?

It’s like there were two worlds existing simultaneously, and the imaginary one was much more important. My job was to stoke its fires, and keep alive.

I got fired from the show before I could reach complete mental breakdown, but I’m sure it would have happened. The experience made me much more appreciative of normal life. Sometimes a conversation is just a conversation, and a song is just a song.

For those readers wondering if they might be Actually Crazy, rather than just artistic, I’d recommend taking an objective look at your daily life. Do you shower and go to work? Do you have meaningful conversations with friends and acquaintances? Is your living space reasonably tidy, and free of year-old newspapers? If so, keep on talking to yourself. If not, talk to a doctor or another mental health professional and get their considered opinion.

I don’t think you have to be nuts to be a good writer. Nor do I you should use writing as an excuse for not getting help when you need it.