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Jessica Bendinger on How I Write

First Person, Writing Process

jessica bendingerfirst personI think of myself as a very non-linear, intuitive writer. I have discipline and focus when I need it, but I allow myself to be very messy and unfocused and all-over-the-place, and I find both ends of the spectrum very useful (as you’ll see from this response)! I find balance through exploring the two extremes, then using them in a conscious way. I can get very bored, so this vacillation serves me really well.

My process has many parts to it and there’s no simple answer, and I’ll say with as much authority as I can muster through text:

"BEWARE THE EASY, ONE-SIZE-FITS-ALL ANSWER!"

There are many ways to come up with ideas, write outlines and birth screenplays. The biggest journey we all have is finding out what works for us, and the beauty of that is that it will be so radically different for everyone. But as for me? I believe in following my enthusiasm, my curiosity and my fear. Not necessarily in that order.

The World

For stories, I begin by exploring arenas and worlds I am secretly or overtly enthusiastic about.

  • What lights me up?
  • What do I want to try, go,do, be, see?
  • What are my closet fascinations?
  • What are the things I TiVo or scan at the bookstore?
  • Who and what am I drawn to?

If it’s a really personal or compulsive fascination that I wouldn’t necessarily discuss with just anyone, or a theme that is so intrinsic to my fantasy life or dream life that it’s almost invisible? Then I am really onto something. These are where my best ideas for arenas are born. This process of warming to an area can take me a while. My big ideas are gestating for a long time before I even get to story, character or outline. Sometimes I’ll get random scene ideas or visuals, and I just tuck them away. I know they’ll be useful eventually, or might lead me somewhere I’m supposed to go and were merely a conduit. The point is, this part can be meandering for me. When it starts really pulling my attention, or filling me with images and ideas I know it’s time for arena to meet story.

The Story

Once I have the arena, then it’s onto the story itself. If I’m unclear, I use a question method to spitball ideas, or will start randomly combining things that interest me without attachment to outcome. For Bring It On, that was simple: I was bananas for those crazy cheerleading competitions, and I loved hip hop and started asking ‘what if?’ Hip hop’s assimilation and appropriation into the culture had been so thorough, I thought, “How can I illustrate that in a fun way?” I started there and kept asking “what if” questions until I got a story that felt really fun, meaningful and juicy for me.

  • What if the best squad in the country had been cheating?
  • What if the squad they’d been stealing from was sick of it?
  • What if the perp tried to make it right?

As I said earlier, I resist easy answers…so my remedy for that malaise is almost always questions. Questions are at the heart of my process, and I keep asking them until I have an idea I am happy with.

The Character

Once I have arena and story, I like to hit the brakes and move into character in a pretty in-depth way. That means more questions.

  • Who is the character?
  • What is their core fear?
  • What do they need?

What do they believe they need or think their goal is, versus the real need and real goal necessary for meaningful transformation in their life?

The tension of that discrepancy helps me to build the narrative. But I’m of the “Character Is Plot” school, so this stuff is my fuel. Otherwise, the process is just too flat for me, and I get really bored. I want a thorough understanding of who he/she is emotionally, intellectually, physically and spiritually. I use those four markers to give my characters substance, and each marker is invaluable to me. If a character is an agnostic or an atheist, for example, that knowledge gives me a valuable place from which to understand how they operate in the world. If someone is a people-pleaser because they were neglected as a child, I can really play with what potential reactions for them will be given the confines of the idea (even if that is never announced anywhere in the script!). I revel in knowing what the inner push-pulls are before I dive into story, so the world around the character can toss him where he needs to go.

The Outline

Once I have the character and the idea, I start working the story beats out from macro to micro.

ROUND ONE (aka Three Big Beats): Beginning, middle and end.

ROUND TWO (aka Nine Medium-Sized Beats): The beginning, middle and end of the (drumroll, please) beginning, middle and end!

ROUND THREE (aka Twenty-Seven Bitty Beats): The beginnings, middles and ends of each of the aforementioned beginnings, middles and ends.

I used to use eleven beats per act and thirty-three total for my outline, but I always ended up with scenes I didn’t need. I’ve grown to prefer a really tight first pass because it’s easier for me to see what’s missing when I’m not floating in excess. But sometimes I over-write, and whittle down, too. It really depends on my mood. If I can beef up twenty-seven scenes into three or four pages per scene, I’m looking at a nice, first rough draft.
[Read more…] about Jessica Bendinger on How I Write

Todd Graff on How I Write

First Person, Writing Process

Todd Grafffirst personThe first thing you need to know is that I write longhand, on legal pads, which makes me either a romantic or a dinosaur or both. When an idea starts percolating in my head, I jot notes everywhere: matchbook covers, snaking around all the white areas in a magazine ad, etc. Bad movies seem to get my juices flowing, and I’m forever ripping up popcorn containers, scribbling on their oily, white insides with the tiny wallet-clip pen my boyfriend bought me for Xmas (a far more useful present than the gym membership).

These notes all make it onto individual index cards. As time passes, the pile of cards grows, until all that’s missing is the connective scene-tissue between all the jotted down sequences.

When it’s time to write, I procrastinate as much as the next guy. I find I have to sneak up on it — like I sit down to work, knowing I absolutely have to be somewhere in an hour. That way I can’t fuck up too much at any one time.

I also take long showers, where I don’t let myself leave until I’ve had at least one valuable idea about the script. Solved one problem. My hot water bills are always an accurate gauge of how blocked I am.
***
Todd Graff wrote and directed CAMP. As a writer and
producer, his other credits include BEAUTICIAN
AND THE BEAST, ANGIE, THE
VANISHING and
USED PEOPLE.

Script in March 2004 Esquire

News

esquireI have an 11-page piece in the March 2004 issue of Esquire, the one with Mark Ruffalo on the cover.

A bit of backstory: When doing publicity last year for Big Fish, I agreed to model for this fashion piece Esquire was doing. Considering that I loathe having my picture taken, this was a big deal for me. But the Esquire people were friendly, and they gave me a free jacket, so hey.

Afterwards, the editors called and asked if I would write a short script about Hollywood for them. They would then have a photographer shoot the “stills” from this never-to-be-made film as a fashion piece. I thought it sounded fun.

I was wrong.

I was happy with the original script I wrote — it was short, funny and mean, sort of a Jayson Blair riff on THE PLAYER. Then, after I turned it in, the photographer (Jonathan Skow) had notes. Notes, really? From a photographer? I bit my tongue and listened. Ultimately, I changed about ten things that I could live with. But my enthusiasm had definitely waned.

When I saw the page proofs, I thought Skow’s photos were good and everything else sucked. Not only had Esquire taken out all reference to the main character’s race — a significant plot point — but they had reformatted the script to make it almost incomprehensible, and were still looking for about half a page of cuts.

To their credit, the editors ultimately stepped up and reformatted the piece so that it could run in its not-quite-entirety. And for that, I am grateful. The piece itself is not as cool as I’d hoped. But that’s Hollywood, I guess.

Does lack of confidence lead to great writing?

Psych 101, QandA

In an earlier question about finding confidence as a writer, you stated: “Most good writers weren’t popular growing up.” While this is true in my case (that I wasn’t popular growing up), do you think also being an unpopular adult (which I am as well) could make a GREAT writer? Or just a whiny, self-obsessed loser who writes nothing but whiny, self-obsessed drivel (which I’m starting to suspect I do)?

–Dave
Albany, NY

Just to be clear, I don’t think childhood unpopularity is a golden ticket to success as a screenwriter. I would never give my child a bad haircut, or rub him with cat litter, just in the hope that he’ll win the Oscar when he’s 40. There are many, many unpopular children who grow up to be terrible writers. Maybe, Dave, you’re one of them.

Or maybe not. The simple fact is, one can’t judge a writer’s talent based on how many Friendsters he has. But I would posit that at least in terms of screenwriting, being extremely unpopular is a detriment. Unlike, say, a novelist, the screenwriter has to put on a clean shirt and meet with executives, humoring them when they offer insipid notes and feigning interest in their personal lives. These delicate social skills are hard to pick up if you frighten small children and annoy the elderly.

It’s this social component of screenwriting that explains why some less-talented writers (the proper term is “hacks”) seem to have undeserved success. They’re good at being screenwriters, if not particularly good at screenwriting.

My advice to you, Dave, is contrary to what I’d tell most writers. Don’t write about what you know, since that seems to be limited to whiny self-obsession. Instead, write like the kind of writer you wish you were: bold, courageous, unafraid to piss people off. Think Hemmingway, but with marketable good-looks.

In summary: Pretend you’re confident. Eventually, you will be.