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Search Results for: 3 page challenge

Blingons and despair

February 28, 2007 Awards, Challenge, Follow Up

[scene challenge]Measured by the number of entries, the first-ever [John August Scene Challenge](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2007/masturbating-to-star-trek) was a surprising success. In terms of quality, well, there was a disappointing sameness that I’m going to blame on the limited nature of the assignment.

Many entries were just a slightly-better version of the existing scene. While a lot of rewriting is polishing and optimizing, a challenge like this one should be seen as a call to arms. Fortune favors the bold, because really, what have you got to lose trying an outlandish approach? It’s not like you’re going to get voted off.Why hasn’t there been a competitive reality show about screenwriting? Oh, that’s right, because it would be incredibly boring.

That’s why I’m handing first place to Liz ([#57](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2007/masturbating-to-star-trek#comment-52995)), who went in a vastly different direction with the scene. It’s not perfect, but it’s disturbing in an interesting way, which counts for a lot. It’s like American Pie as remade by Lars Von Trier.

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM – DAY

Lying in a hospital bed is all that remains of Shane, 19, former college athlete. A chart at the foot of his bed lists his diagnosis as bacterial meningitis, and chronicles a horrifying list of failed treatments and emergency surgeries he has undergone since his admission three days ago. Both his legs and his left arm are now amputated, bandaged-wrapped stumps.

Shane lies in bed, staring off into space. In the background, a television set bolted to the wall is playing an old episode of Star Trek. Shane begins to focus in on the television. The vacant expression on his face is slowly replaced by one of annoyance.

SCOTTY

I cannae do it, Captain! Not in three hours!

KIRK

We need that warp drive, Mr. Scott, and we need it now!

Shane’s eyes drift to where the remote control is located, on a small table to the left of his hospital bed. He moves his left arm-stump, attempting to get at it, but can’t.

SCOTTY

But sir, it’s impossible! You cannae change the laws of physics!

Making an heroic effort, Shane reaches across his body with his good right arm, and attempts to grab the remote. Unfortunately his effort knocks it on the floor. Shane slumps back on his pillow, staring at the ceiling and trying not to cry. He makes a concerted effort to think about something else. Meanwhile, the Star Trek has moved on to a scene with Kirk and a beautiful alien. Shane doesn’t want to watch, but can’t help it. There’s nothing he can do about it.

A quirky expression crosses Shane’s face as he suddenly realizes there may yet be something fun within his reach. He steals a glance around the room. An elderly man on a respirator is asleep in the next bed, but there are no nurses in sight. With his remaining good hand, Shane reaches underneath his sheets, and begins quietly pleasuring himself. He closes his eyes, enjoying it.

SAM

Shane!

Shane’s eyes pop open to see DUSTIN(19) and SAM(20) standing over his hospital bed, aghast.

DUSTIN

Oh my God.

SHANE

(embarrassed)

Guys! Uh, this isn’t as bad as it looks.

Sam and Dustin are speechless.

DUSTIN

Dude... That’s quite possibly the bravest thing I think I’ve ever heard anyone say.

SHANE

What?

SAM

You’re cut to pieces and you nearly died, and it’s not as bad as it looks?

SHANE

Oh... No, I mean, I wasn’t just, uh, whackin’ it to Star Trek... That’s just what’s on... The remote’s on the floor there...

SAM

(not knowing whether to laugh or cry)

Jesus.

A beat.

DUSTIN

It’s good to know you still got all the important parts.

SHANE

Guess I’m just lucky that way.

SAM

Dude, you could totally get a job as a sperm donor. I heard they pay fifty bucks a load!

SHANE

Oh yeah? I’m there, man.

Shane’s false bravado is slipping, and he barely gets out the previous line. He turns his head away from his buddies, and rubs his eyes against his left shoulder-stump.

DUSTIN

(glaring at Sam accusingly, but speaking to Shane)

We’ll come by later. We should let you get some rest.

SHANE

(still not looking at them as Dustin hurries Sam out)

Thanks, guys.

Alone again, with his masturbating success now overshadowed by the bleakness of his future prospects, Shane weeps silently, tears running down his cheeks and pooling on the bed.

Of the more conventional entries, my favorite was probably by Eric Szyszka ([#18](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2007/masturbating-to-star-trek#comment-52758)), who recognized that since the audience fully expects Shane to get caught whacking off, the real opportunity comes in reaching for unexpected references. In this case, Blingons.

INT. SHANE’S BEDROOM – NIGHT

SHANE, 20’s, sits in front of his laptop. Circles encase his sleep-deprived eyes as he types away at his keyboard. A TV set blares in the background; he ignores it.

“Term paper” rests in the upper left-hand corner of the page.

Shane checks the time 6:30 AM. Early sunlight peeks through the window.

He suddenly gets a pop-up ad. A nude woman.

His brow raises and he clicks it.

ON SCREEN

A small chested woman.

SHANE

Mm, not bad. Not really my-

Shane stops in his tracks as he leers up to the TV.

ON TELEVISION

MARINA SIRTIS, portraying Counselor Deanna Troi in a low-cut top, is featured prominently in the shot.

Shane’s lips curl in delight. He starts to masturbate.

ON TELEVISION

LIEUTENANT WORF enters the scene.

Shane suddenly jumps back and grabs his remote.

SHANE

Thank god for TiVo.

He rewinds the scene.

Shane resumes.

DUSTIN, 20’s, Shane’s roommate, abruptly enters the room.

DUSTIN

You wouldn’t believe where I woke up this morning! Do you remember Cynthia?

ON TELEVISION

Lieutenant Worf enters the scene, just as before.

Dustin notices Shane.

DUSTIN

Jesus Christ, dude!

Shane quickly covers himself.

SHANE

Don’t you fucking knock?

DUSTIN

It’s my room too, dick. Wait a second, you jerk off to Blingons?

SHANE

NO!

(beat)

What the fuck is a Blingon?

DUSTIN

Black Klingon.

SHANE

Bling? That’s so wrong.

DUSTIN

Uh, no. B is for black, racist, not “black men wear jewelry.”

(beat)

This is too good not to wake Sam over.

Dustin bangs on the wall.

DUSTIN

Hey, Sam! Shane’s beats it to Blingons.

SAM (O.S.)

WHAT?

Sam staggers in; half asleep.

SAM

Dude, you like Michael Dorn?

SHANE

No, you fucking assholes. Okay, I was jerking off, you caught me. But I wasn’t doing it to Klingon or Blingons or whatever, okay? This is what I was jerking off to.

Shane rewinds the episode too far.

ON TELEVISION

The TiVo freezes on a frame of WESLEY CRUSHER – A 15 year old boy.

SAM

And goodnight.

Sam exits.

SHANE

No! It wasn’t-

Dustin starts to leave.

DUSTIN

I’m putting in a housing transfer.

I’m impressed by all the readers who took the time to enter.Yes, I did read the ones that came in late, or got eaten by the virtual dog. Notably, nearly every scene was better than original, which should give Shane plenty of ammunition to say, “Suck it, Sam.” I fully plan to do this again with a bit more open-ended assignment.

Do you agree or disagree with my assessments? The comments section is your chance to stump for what you think should have won. Just keep in mind that campaigning for your own entry is lame, and will probably be exposed.

Seven Things I Learned from World of Warcraft

February 14, 2007 Geek Alert, Videogames

Those who’ve seen my movie, The Nines, can infer that I had a bit of a World of Warcraft problem back in the day. “The day” being a period of about four months in which most of my waking hours were spent either playing the game or wanting to. The luxury and danger of being a screenwriter is an abundance of unstructured time. WoW can eat hours in a gulp.

Moderation just didn’t work. I had to give it up cold-turkey, canceling my account and throwing out the install disks. With my newfound time, I had a kid, wrote a couple of movies and directed one of my own.

I have few regrets about giving up Warcraft. But in retrospect, I did learn some valuable things from my time in Azeroth, lessons that have stuck with me. So I thought I’d share a few.

1. Kill injured monsters first
====
W __When facing multiple bad guys, the temptation is to go after the one who’s hitting you hardest. This is often a mistake. That injured razorback, the one who is running away? He’ll be back in 15 seconds, likely with other baddies in tow. So take a few clicks to kill him now. Once he’s dead, you can focus completely on the guy who’s smacking you.__

The real world may not have druids and paladins, but it’s chock full of monsters. They’re called “term papers” and “errands” and “mysterious car problems.” At any given moment, there may be one monster that looms larger than all of the others, who clearly needs to be attacked. But before you do, look around for injured monsters — the half-finished tasks that probably need only a few more minutes to complete. If you don’t deal with them now, they’ll be a constant distraction, and may eventually come back stronger.

This “injured monster theory” is why I try to return every phone call the day I receive it, and respond to every email within 24 hours. If a warning light comes on in my car, I go to the mechanic that day. Whenever I find myself thinking, “I need to remember to…” then I know I’ve failed. I don’t need to remember. I need to do. I need to finish.

2. Grinding is part of the game…
====
W __In WoW parlance, “grinding” is the process of killing a bunch of fairly easy monsters, one after the other, strictly to rack up loot and experience. There’s no adventure to it, no real challenge. It’s tedious and mindless, but it’s often the fastest way to level up, which is why everyone does it.__

Daily life is full of mindless tedium, but there’s an important distinction: grinding has a point. While the task may be dull and carpal tunnel-aggravating, there’s a clear goal. You’re doing X in order to get Y. You’re xeroxing scripts in the William Morris mailroom in order to get a job as an assistant. You’re proofreading your script for the seventh time in order to send it to your friend, who works for that producer. You have to be willing to do serious grunt work in order to move ahead.

3. …But grinding is not the game
====
W __It’s easy to confuse what you’re doing with why you’re doing it. Just remember: you’re not paying $15 a month to kill the same set of spawning critters. Grinding is a means of achieving a specific goal, whereas the game itself is supposed to be entertaining. So once you level (or get enough deer skins to fabricate that armor), stop grinding and start exploring.__

I worked for a year as a reader at Tri-Star, writing coverage on 10 scripts or books a week. It was good money, $65 a shot, but it was wearying. Most of the scripts were terrible. Apart from offering lessons-to-avoid, there wasn’t any point in reading them other than the money. But I convinced myself I was “working in the industry,” so I kept reading them, one after the other, dutifully writing up my synopses and comments. Executives would congratulate me on my witty notes, and there was some suggestion that I could get a job in development. So I quit.

In place of reading, I got a mindless internship in physical production at Universal: filing, copying, researching clearances. I didn’t use my brain once. That left me with abundant energy when I got home from work, and with it I finished two scripts.

Both jobs were quintessential “day jobs.” In theory, writing coverage should have been the better job, because it was closer to screenwriting. And truthfully, I did learn some valuable things–for the first month or two. After that, it was a whole lotta more of the same. The second job was a better fit because there was no confusing it with my true ambitions.

4. Give away stuff to newbies
====
W __You start the game with almost nothing: a weapon and the shirt on your back. Each new piece of gear you accumulate is tremendously exciting. Cloth armor seems luxurious. But as you level up, that early gear becomes increasingly irrelevant and basically worthless. It’s not worth the trip to the store to sell it. So don’t. Instead, run back to the newbie lands, find the first character of your class, and hand him all the stuff you don’t want. It will take two minutes of your time, but give the newbie a tremendous head start. (Not to mention building your karma.)__

This site, johnaugust.com, is really just me running back to the newbie lands and giving away what I can. There’s no financial incentive in it for me. I could certainly put my advice in a book and charge $15.95 for it. But I see it as the take-a-penny, leave-a-penny flow of information. On a daily basis, I find myself searching the web for answers on topics in which I’m a newbie (Flash programming, DC mythology, teaching toddlers to swim) and leaving thankful that someone out there took the time to write a tutorial on exactly what I needed. So in exchange, I write up what I know about screenwriting.

If everyone took the time to build a site about the areas of their expertise, the world would be significantly cooler.

5. Keep track of your quests
====
W WoW is refreshingly open-ended–you could spend all your time skinning bears, if you felt like it. In order to provide a sense of structure, the game helpfully provides quests: multi-step missions, generally to collect, kill or deliver something. While the system does a solid job tracking these official endeavors (“13 out of 25 tusks”), most of the time what you’re really trying to do (“find a better shield”) is frustratingly amorphous. The trick is to identify these unofficial quests and break them down into distinct steps:

* browse the auctions to compare prices
* pick preferred shield
* sell off unneeded linen to raise needed cash
* bid

At any given point, you may have 10 of these pseudo-quests, and unless you take charge of them, you’re liable keep running around, cursing your stupid shield.

[GTD](http://davidco.com) enthusiasts would label these WoW quests “projects,” and each of the bullet points “next actions.” That’s geekery, but it’s an acknowledgment that most of life’s work consists of a bunch of little activities in the service of a larger goal. You don’t write a script; you write a scene. You don’t design a website; you tweak the CSS so the navigation looks better. No matter what the project is, you can’t finish until you get started, and you can’t get started until you figure out the steps.

6. Storage is costly
====
W __Perhaps sensing that messy teenage boys are a key demographic, World of Warcraft won’t let you leave something on the ground. If you don’t pick up that fallen warhammer, it will vanish, never to return. So one quickly learns the importance of storage: belts, bags, backpacks and chests. Unfortunately, there’s never nearly enough space, and adding more becomes ridiculously expensive. (That’s by design, clearly. The developers want to minimize hoarding.) So always keep in mind the carrying costs. If you never use that second bow, get rid of it, and use those slots for something you need.__

Unlike World of Warcraft (or hard drives in the 90’s), digital storage is now cheap. Crazy cheap. I remember having to carefully comb through my hard drive, trying to figure out exactly what I could purge in order to install the newest version of Quark XPress. Today, I have 80 gigs available on my startup drive, and this was the first time I checked in over a year.

But while the cost of bit storage has plummeted, the cost of storing atoms is still huge. My neighbors just had a [POD](http://www.pods.com/) delivered, essentially a cargo container that gets trucked off. I’ve watched as they’ve filled it with furniture and boxes, all the time wondering, “Is all that stuff really worth keeping?” It’s like paying rent on things you already own.

Last year, we cleaned out our garage. Instead of a traditional yard sale, we did a virtual version. We took pictures of everything we were getting rid of, built a page in [Backpack](http://backpackit.com), and sent the link to all our friends. Whoever wanted something could email us and take it. They got a free desk, and we got a free garage.

7. Overthinking takes the fun out of it
====
W __Remember, the game is supposed to be fun. Yes, you can spend hours pouring through the forums, finding exactly the right talent tree. Or you could wing it: explore some new lands and kill some big monsters. Obsessive planning won’t make the game more enjoyable. It will just make it more like work.__

I’m often asked about outlines and treatments, and whether they’re necessary before sitting down to write a script. They’re not. Like a map, they can help you figure out where you’re going, but when you follow them too closely, you’re apt to miss a lot of amazing scenery along the way.

On a bigger level, as you look back at any period of your life, you don’t remember what a solid plan you had. You remember what you did. You remember the adventures, the scrapes, the unanticipated detours that turned out to fascinating. So don’t plan your way out of an exciting life.

If you agree, feel free to [digg it](http://digg.com/submit?phase=2&url=http%3A%2F%2Fjohnaugust.com%2F%3Fp%3D718&title=Seven+Things+I+Learned+from+World+of+Warcraft).

How to write dialogue

February 7, 2007 Words on the page, Writing Process

Continuing my efforts to blog less about the profession of screenwriting and more about the craft, I thought I’d offer up some thoughts on dialogue. As with my earlier post on [How to Write a Scene](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2007/write-scene), this isn’t an exhaustive tutorial by any means. But it’s at least a guide for how I do it.

1. Listen to how actual people talk
====

We all watch movies and television, which is chock full of dialogue: good, bad and inane. One might think it helpful to listen to great actors speaking great words. It’s not. In fact, it will probably screw you up.

It’s like trying to paint landscapes based on how other artists paint landscapes. The best you can do is a crude approximation. In order to paint a great landscape, you need to get your butt out in the cornfield and paint what you see. There’s really no alternative.

Fortunately, the world is full of dialogue cornfields. Sitting at Fatburger for lunch, I eavesdropped on two engineers discussing fire door trim allowances, and two women in their 60’s clucking about how small the hamburgers were. Far more important than the content of the conversations was the flow, the back-and-forth. We tend to think of dialogue as a tennis volley, with the subject being hit back and forth between speakers. But when you really listen, you realize that people talk over each other constantly, and rarely finish a complete thought.

To get a sense of this flow, you need to stop paying attention to the actual words being spoken. It’s the auditory equivalent of un-focusing your eyes. Listen for which speaker is dominating the conversation, and how often the other party chimes in to acknowledge he’s still paying attention. (“Uh-huh.” “Yeah.” “Really?”) Questions are often not phrased as questions, and in real life, no one speaks with exclamation points.

How often should you eavesdrop? Pretty much constantly, with particular focus on finding interesting speakers. Some people are inherently funny, and if you soak up enough of their rhythms you can recreate them on the page fairly faithfully. But even the annoying woman ahead of you at the checkout line deserves a listen. You never know when she might come in handy.

2. Figure out the flow of your dialogue
====
Generally, before I put pen to paper, I let the scene loop in my head 10 or 40 times. Those first cycles are silent, but eventually characters begin to talk. Based on what needs to happen in the scene, it’s often pretty clear who’ll be saying what. But figuring out the flow — the how, the when, the why — takes time. You can rush it, but you’ll often end up with too many words in the wrong order. Or worse, you’ll end up with characters talking at each other rather than with each other.

So imagine watching your scene, but in a foreign language with the subtitles turned off. What does the talking feel like? What’s the emotion behind the words? Who’s in control? There’s a classic drama exercise in which actors have to stage a scene speaking only faux-Chinese. That’s what you’re looking for at this stage. Not the words, but the texture.

3. Pattern out the information
====
Conversations in real life are often empty (“these burgers are too small”), but movie conversations almost always involve an exchange of information (“the fingerprints don’t match” or “I’m not sure I ever loved you”). Your job as a writer is figuring out how your characters would tell each other the information.

Let’s say Bob needs to tell Mary that her dog has been eaten by a python. As the writer, you need to decide not only what facts Bob knows, but how he’s anticipating Mary will react to the news. This will determine not only how he starts the conversation (“Say, you were talking about how you wanted to get a new dog, right?”) but every subsequent decision along the way.

Of course, as the screenwriter you’re not solely interested in helping the characters convey information to each other; your primary focus is getting that information to the audience. The challenge is to do the latter while pretending to the former. So if it’s slipping a bit of exposition in a joke, or staging an altercation to reveal a piece of backstory, find a way.

Bad dialogue tends to spray out information in every direction, whereas smart dialogue sneaks the facts in while you’re otherwise entertained.

4. Write the scribble version
=====
The [scribble version](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2007/scribble-version-final-scene) is the very rough draft of a scene, devoid of formatting, punctuation and other garnishes. My scribble versions tend to be largely dialogue, with an emphasis on the overall flow rather than finding le mot juste.

5. Write the nice version
=====
Once you have the blueprint for the scene, it’s time to go back and start worrying about getting each word right. Great dialogue has a melody to it, and achieving that is probably unteachable. But you can write pretty good dialogue simply by reading each line aloud, over and over, smoothing off the awkwardness through better words or a different composition.

Movie dialogue is how characters would speak if they had a few extra seconds to compose their thoughts between lines. It’s just slightly optimized. But it’s very easy to overshoot and end up in soap opera land. Keeping dialogue real but efficient is one of the hardest challenges in screenwriting.

6. Ask: Are characters listening, or just speaking?
=====
Once you have the scene finished, take a look back and make sure your characters aren’t just speaking because it’s their turn. That’s a common problem, perpetuated (I believe) by the prevalence of exposition-heavy crime dramas.

  • BOOTHE
  • Two campers found the body in a culvert five miles down river.
  • GARMAN
  • Toxicology shows arsenic in the well.
  • BOOTHE
  • Looks like we got ourselves a serial killer.

While actors could probably pull this off as a conversation (with a lot of head nodding), it’s not hard to get Garman listening and responding:

  • BOOTHE
  • Two campers found the body in a culvert five miles down river. Once we get the toxicology back…
  • GARMAN
  • Just came. Arsenic in the well.
  • BOOTHE
  • Looks like we got ourselves a serial killer.

7. Ask: Is there a shorter version that works as well?
=====
Many times, the best way to improve dialogue is to cut it. Once you’ve let a scene sit for a while, revisit it with a red pen and look for what could be cut. If a piece of information isn’t essential, it should probably go. And a joke isn’t worth it if you’ve had to break the scene to achieve it.

Professional Writing and the Rise of the Amateur

March 1, 2006 First Person, Rant, So-Called Experts

Last night, I had the pleasure of giving a guest lecture at Trinity University in San Antonio. While I speak at various screenwriter-oriented functions fairly often, this was unusual in that the event was university-wide, and the focus wasn’t specifically on film.

Part of the deal was that I had to announce the title of my speech months in advance. I picked, “Professional Writing and the Rise of the Amateur,” figuring that in the intervening months I would think of inspiring examples of how the World of Tomorrow was going to be a wonderland of possibility for the undergraduates in the audience.

But the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to talk about the future. Instead, I wanted to focus on one of the biggest challenges of today: in our celebration of the amateur, we kind of forget what it means to be professional.

As I spoke with various classes before the big presentation, I promised I’d post the whole speech on the site for those students who had night classes. And, of course, for anyone else who might be interested.

Let me warn you: this is __long__. My speech lasted 45 minutes, and that was without a lot of riffing. So if you’d rather read the whole thing as a .pdf, you can find it [here](http://johnaugust.com/Assets/professional.pdf).

. . .

It’s a pleasure to be here talking with you tonight. Over the last two days, I’ve been visiting a lot of classes, talking about screenwriting and movies, and well, basically talking about myself. Which I’m really good at. But when I agreed to give a formal public lecture, one of the requirements was that the presentation actually have a title. By which I mean a topic, a thesis. A point.

It all feels very academic, and I love that. I miss that. None of you will believe me now, but some day you’ll look back on your college careers and be wistful. Nostalgic. Because there’s something comforting about having to write a fifteen page paper on the use of floral imagery in “Pride and Prejudice.”

I think what it is, is that even if you’re completely wrong, it just doesn’t matter that much. For the rest of your life, you’re going to get called on bullshitting. In college, you’re graded on it.

Anyway.

I decided I wanted my lecture tonight to be not strictly about screenwriting, but about writing in general. Because everyone in this room is a writer. You might write screenplays; you might write research papers. You definitely write emails. Every one of you is, and will be, a professional writer in some field.

So I wanted to talk about what that means.

[Read more…] about Professional Writing and the Rise of the Amateur

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