John August

Writing Process

Am I a writer or a director?

Directors, QandA, Writing Process

questionmarkI have been unsuccessfully trying to write and be a writer for the last ten years. I am definitely not one of those people who write everyday or who enjoy the writing process. I enjoy birthing ideas and trying to figure out ways to play them out. I am constantly coming up with ideas and I love that and thinking of ways to explore different ideas. But I find the actual writing process horrendously lonely and isolating. I am an outgoing person and feel claustrophobic about the writing process. It is always a struggle to get myself to do it and yet I think I am talented.

I went to University and studied screenwriting and have read a ridiculous amount of screenwriting books — i.e., I’m well educated in the art. I easily hold my own in discussions on plot, structure, characterization and the like. I was complimented as being one of the top talents in my class.

Halfway through my education I took a directing class, loved it, and again received a lot of attention for my work. My teacher said I was one of two people in the program who he thought had a good chance in the industry.

So my question is, am I just lazy? Is writing just hard and lonely and that’s it — deal with it? I’m starting to think that maybe I should drop the idea of trying to be a writer turns director and just go for the directing, it being more social and working with people and all.

Is there any kind of barometer for this kind of decision? I’m afraid that as a director I will feel that I’m just directing someone else’s (the screenwriter’s) idea.

–Scott
via imdb

Let me rephrase your question in a way that will make the answer obvious:

Dear John,

I hate screenwriting. Should I be a screenwriter?

— Scott

You wouldn’t tell someone who hates the ocean to be a sailor, nor an acrophobe to be a tightrope walker. If you don’t like it, don’t do it.

Truth be told, there are times I hate screenwriting, and would rather do almost anything else. It’s a struggle to quit checking my favorite websites and actually get the next scene written. But I really like the life of a screenwriter, and the challenge of putting of a movie on paper. It’s not for everyone, and from what you say, it’s not for you. Which is great. The industry doesn’t need another unhappy screenwriter.

In terms of directing, the vast majority of successful directors aren’t writers. So stop beating yourself up. Get a crew and a camera and shoot something written by a screenwriter who’s happy to be doing it.

La escritura profesional y el auge de los amateurs

International, Resources, Writing Process

Daniel Castro has the first part of my essay, [“Professional Writing and the Age of the Amateur,”](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2006/professional-writing-and-the-rise-of-the-amateur) translated into Spanish at [his site](http://guionistaenchamberi.blogspot.com/). He volunteered, and I wasn’t going to say no.

Decidí que mi conferencia de esta noche no fuera estrictamente sobre la escritura de guiones sino sobre escritura en general. Todos los que estáis en esta sala sois escritores. Podéis escribir guiones o trabajos de documentación. Desde luego, todos escribís correos electrónicos. Todos sois escritores profesionales en algún campo.

It’s strange reading one’s words in another language. My Spanish is good enough that I have no trouble understanding it, but if I were to attempt to do the translation myself, it would be embarrassing for all concerned. So, many thanks to Daniel.

Creative Commons LicenseBy the way, this essay and most of the material on this site (other than the scripts) are covered by a [Creative Commons](http://creativecommons.org/) license, which allows you to use this information for non-commercial purposes as long as (a) you give me credit, and (b) you agree to share your derivative works in the same manner. So if you feel like translating anything you see here in Polish or Mongolian ([ahem](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2005/mongolian-characters-speaking-chinese)), by all means feel free. I’d just appreciate a link back to the original version.

How many drafts does it take?

Genres, QandA, Writing Process

questionmarkHow many rewrites do you go through before you feel your baby is ready to be read by agents, producers, etc? And does a screenwriter have to focus on just one genre or can he or she cross-pollinate into another genre? I notice some movies blur into two genres occasionally.

— Daniel De Lago

When I read about professional chefs, they often talk about having a “food sense” that tells them when something is ready. That is, they can put the fish under the broiler, then go off and work on something else, and return at exactly the moment the fish is perfectly cooked.

This “knowing when it’s done” sense only develops with experience. Beginning chefs are all too likely to pull something out a little too raw or overcooked and flavorless.

And the same is true with screenwriting. When I was first starting out, I was really unsure about when a draft was finished. I now have a pretty good sense of when something is ready for public consumption, which for me is really the first draft. That is, I’ve generally hand-written scenes, typed them up, assembled them into one big draft (called, cleverly, the “first assembly”). I then spend considerable hours tweaking and shaping and revising until I have what I consider the first draft.

This is what goes to my assistant for proofreading and reality-checking. (“Did you mean for the hero to leave in a helicopter but land in a private jet?”) A few quick fixes, and it’s ready to be seen by whoever the point person is on the project, generally the producer or executive who hired me.

Should you, Daniel, hand in a draft this early? Probably not. I’m a better writer now than when I first began, and don’t make the same mistakes I used to. To continue the cooking analogy, one way to make sure something is done is to check the temperature. Use your trusted friends and colleagues as your thermometer. Let them be your guide as to when something is safe to put on the plate.

In terms of genre, I never pay that much attention to what something is “supposed to” be, which is one reason my movies are a little bit hard to place on the shelves at Blockbuster. Go, Big Fish and Charlie’s Angels are all generally filed under comedy, but they’re not the same kind of comedies that Tim Allen stars in.

Not that there’s anything wrong with Tim Allen comedies.

(Well, actually, there is. The one that’s actually funny — Galaxy Quest — is funny because it’s not really Tim Allen’s movie, and relies on a big and talented cast to carry the film’s complicated conceit. But I digress.)

Genre should be a guide, not a straightjacket. One of the reasons I’ve never written a romantic comedy is that the expectations are so clear (meet-cute, complication, misunderstanding, resolution) that it wouldn’t feel very fulfilling to create one.

How to Rewrite

Writing Process

Over the weekend, my friend [Rawson](http://imdb.com/name/nm1098493/maindetails) came to visit the bambina, and we talked about the script he’s writing. He said he was about to start his next draft, which was mostly character tweaks. He was unsure how to go about it.

I said, “Decide out what you want to accomplish, then figure out which scenes would need to change.”

He seemed to think that was pretty good advice. And the more I thought about it, the more I agreed.

The biggest problem with most rewrites is that you start at page one, which is already probably the best-written page in the script. You tweak as you go, page after page, moving commas and enjoying your cleverness — all the while forgetting why you’re rewriting the script.

Instead, you need to stop thinking of words and pages, and focus on goals. Are you trying to increase the rivalry between Helen and Chip? Then look through the script — actual printed script, not the one on screen — and find the scenes with Helen and Chip. Figure out what could be changed in those scenes to meet your objectives. Then look for other scenes that help support the idea. Scribble on the paper. Scratch out lines. Write new ones.

Then move on to your next goal. And your next one.

At first, this “checklist” approach to rewriting probably won’t feel organic. It doesn’t have the same flow as writing the first draft. But fixing your script isn’t that different than fixing your car. If the stereo was busted, you wouldn’t start at the tailpipe and work your way forward until you got to the dashboard. You’d rip out the stereo, figure out what was wrong, and replace it if you couldn’t get it working. Then you’d do the same for the headlights, the shocks, and the windshield wipers. A car is a car, and a script is a script. But they’re both made of lots of little pieces, and you can only fix one piece at a time.

And scripts are much better than cars. If you don’t know what you’re doing when you try to fix your car, you might be stuck taking the bus. With a screenplay, you always have the old version saved on disk. So roll up your sleeves and get to it. Don’t let the fear of screwing up keep you from starting.