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Scriptnotes, Episode 630: The One with Celine Song, Transcript

March 15, 2024 Scriptnotes Transcript

The original post for this episode can be found here.

John August: Hello and welcome. My name is John August, and this is Episode 630 of Scriptnotes, a podcast about screenwriting and things that are interesting to screenwriters.

Today on the show, we welcome Celine Song, a playwright, screenwriter, and director, whose movie Past Lives is Oscar-nominated for Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay.

We will talk about that movie, but also getting staffed on a TV show, raising financing, making your first feature in two different countries. But before that, staffing on a TV show, deciding between film school versus playwriting school. We’ll answer some listener questions. It’s a great conversation. And in a bonus conversation for premium members, Celine and I discuss Zoom and other online performances, including her staging of The Seagull on Sims 4. But first, Drew, we have some follow-up. We have the best listeners in the world, and they came through this week.

Drew Marquardt: We had a lot of people write in about examples of the Tiffany problem, which we talked about last week.

John: The Tiffany problem, that’s where Tiffany is actually an old name, so people used to be called Tiffany, but if you use that name now, people think that just seems weird, a period film should not have a character named Tiffany.

Drew: There’s quite a few examples. Courtney wrote in, “As a birdwatcher, one Tiffany problem I know of is the call of a bald eagle. Most Americans associate a bald eagle’s call with soaring, almost echoing screech, not pretty per se, but definitely powerful and approaching majestic. Here’s an example. (bird screech) But that’s actually the sound of a red-tailed hawk. An accurate bald eagle sound is almost painfully high-pitched and typically kind of chippy, like a yapping dog.” (eagle call)

John: Wow. That is really, really different. We’ll put a link into the YouTube videos of those two, because when you see the bald eagle doing its thing, it’s like, that’s not a graceful way of making a sound.

Drew: No, not at all.

John: A perfect example of a Tiffany problem, because if you put in the real thing, people would laugh. It just doesn’t sound right. We associate the bald eagle sounding a particular way, even though it’s not the situation. Unless you’re going to call it out, I think you’d go with the wrong version. What else do we have for Tiffany problems?

Drew: Michael in Astoria writes, “My favorite reference for the Tiffany problem is Deadwood and its infamous use of profanity. When researching, David Milch discovered that while historic analogs for his character did in fact swear freely, they would use archaic profanity that is comical to modern ears, would’ve had all the characters sounding like Yosemite Sam if they’d insisted on historical accuracy. So rather than provoke unwanted laughter in the audience, he opted for modern profanity that was accurate to the spirit of how the curse words were intended, but which the characters would not have actually used.”

John: Again, a problem where historical accuracy and specificity could’ve worked against you, and so you made the choice to have everyone dropping F bombs all the time. I get it. It does change our perception of how people spoke in that time, but they just don’t have any other real, good Western examples of profanity, so it felt real to me.

Drew: Although now I’m curious what those weird swears were.

John: I want to hear what all those words were.

Drew: Kate writes, “I used to be a children’s book editor, and I once edited a book of short stories set during the First World War. One author wrote a story set at a girls’ school, and she included a scene in which one girl wrote a note to another reading, ‘See you at,’ like the at sign, ‘break.’ And I queried this use of the at symbol. And the author assured me that the at symbol had been in use since at least the 1500s. It was used that way in the early 20th century. I told her that didn’t matter; it would seem anachronistic to a reader anyway.”

John: I grew up knowing that that symbol meant at or that we used it to mean at, although I think it also could mean to or at for a quantity at a certain amount at a certain price. I remember seeing it on typewriters, but of course we didn’t really use it everyday use until there were email addresses and ultimately handles for things. I agree with Kate here. At feels strange historically. I think it could bum for some people, even though it’s accurate.

Drew: Phillip writes, “Recently, my mom mentioned rewatching her favorite film, The American President, and how it occurred to her how much paper the people in the White House are shown using. This is accurate to the time it was shot. But it was shocking to her how much digitization has changed office work.”

John: Yes, I think if you look at older things… I remember looking at broadcast news. They have to use these tapes. They’re literally carrying tapes around.

Drew: Oh my god.

John: It seems impossible. Older movies are going to have paper in them. We talked about all the kazoos in Maestro, which is basically like, yes, people would’ve been smoking a lot in that time, but it’s just distracting, because there’s just so much of it. This mention of The American President, I have to take a little sidebar to talk about, Rob Reiner was on Love It or Leave It, this other podcast I listen to, and was talking about how Aaron Sorkin’s script for The American President was like 350 pages. It was some crazy, crazy long script. Sorkin later apologized for the script being so long, but apparently, a lot of the stuff that got pulled out of the script for The American President became The West Wing. So maybe that’s an argument for writing long sometimes.

Drew: I love The American President. It’s nice and tight.

John: Nice and tight. It was not nice and tight to begin with. Examples of the Tiffany problem. What else do we have for follow-up?

Drew: We had some listeners write in about different foreign courts, because we were talking about Anatomy of a Fall. Anonymous writes in to say, “I’ll share what I know of a Russian courtroom, which will probably come as no surprise to anyone who’s read stories of people charged and quickly convicted in Russia.

“Back when adoptions there were allowed, you had to go to court to get yours approved. In our region, even with the foot-high stack of stamped, embossed, certified, and Apostille documents testifying to every aspect of your interest and ability to adopt and raise the child, there was still no guarantee you would get approved. And why? The room setup gives a clue.

“While the judge presides over the court from a familiar front-and-center raised platform, what’s completely freaky is that when you walk in, you see that the entire left of the room is taken up by a prison cell made up of heavy iron bars on all four sides and the top. This is where the defendant stands during the trial, though thankfully not prospective adoptive parents. We get hard, wooden benches.

“When I asked why, it was explained that contrary to our legal principles of innocent until proven guilty, in Russia when someone is charged, it’s assumed they’re guilty and you must prove your innocence from jail. I looked it up later, and legally, this is in fact not true. But as they say in Sleepless in Seattle, it sure feels and looks true.”

John: This is an example of just the courtroom setup. Imagine that there was a scene taking place in a Russian courtroom. If, in the script, you did not actually describe what things are like, we would default to our American expectations of a courtroom, and they would be wrong. It would be a very different feel from what we actually would see in the film. This feels crucial information for a screenwriter to know if you’re going with this kind of scene. Similarly, in Anatomy of a Fall, if you didn’t know what that French courtroom was set up like and would just default to an American thing, you would be just incredibly wrong.

Drew: David in Australia writes, “I want to share my experience sitting on a jury in Australia. The biggest disappointment for me was that the jury was removed from the court any time there were matters of law to discuss. Whenever a lawyer would overstep or they needed to discuss precedent in certain areas of the case, the jury wasn’t privy to this information. The public galley could stay and listen during these moments, but the Australian system seems to think that this would taint the jurors. I guess it’s probably better than having a judge tell the jury, ‘Disregard everything you just heard,’ because let’s be honest, no one’s disregarding that stuff.”

John: I’ve been on one jury trial, and there were situations where I felt like the matters of law went to the judge’s chamber, so rather than us leaving, the judge and the counsel leaves to talk in his chamber. But yeah, it again is a structural thing. You do need to know what the differences are in a different country, because otherwise you could get this wrong in a way that would hurt your story. Let’s wrap up with, I see Lewant has a thing from the Netherlands.

Drew: To your point about defaulting to the American style, Lewant says, “A one-panel comic from a Dutch newspaper says, ‘Fulk and Zuk spend most of their student days watching TV.’ And this judge says, ‘Will you please stop referring to the stenographer as members of the jury?’ The joke is that the Dutch court system does not have a jury system, yet most of us personally witness it through U.S. media.”

John: Exactly. If you’re in one of these countries, and you’re expecting a jury trial, and there is no jury, that is very different. Again, if you’re writing a scene that is taking place in a foreign courtroom, don’t rely on your American expectations of how things are supposed to work, because it could be very, very wrong. Drew, thank you for the follow-up.

Now, let’s welcome on our guest. Celine Song is a playwright, screenwriter, and director, whose movie Past Lives is Oscar-nominated for Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay. Celine, welcome.

Celine Song: Thank you. Hi, hi. So happy to be here.

John: We’re so happy to have you here. I really want to talk to you, of all the folks out there on awards season, because I think your experience feels probably the most relevant to a lot of our listeners, who are aspiring filmmakers, because not only is this your first feature, but you’ve made it internationally. It’s complicated between two countries. It’s a very personal story that you could’ve done as a book or as a play, but to do it as a movie felt like the right choice.

We had Lulu Wang on a couple years ago to talk about The Farewell. It felt like she was telling a story that only she could direct, and so same like you only would make sense for you to direct this. It just felt so relevant to a lot of our listeners.

I’m so excited to talk to you about not just your movie, but also the process of getting to the point where you could make that movie. Could we start back at the beginning? What is your experience or history with storytelling and with filmmaking? Where did that start for you?

Celine: To me, I went to grad school for playwriting. Then I stayed in playwriting. I was a playwright for 10 years, including my years in grad school. I was doing a lot of plays in New York City, off-Broadway. I wrote on a TV show as a staff writer, Wheel of Time. That was the first for-screen writing that I’ve done. I think it really was writing the script for Past Lives, and it really was the script that did the work of getting itself made. But I’ve been a dramatist for a lot longer. I feel like that would be the right word for it. I’ve been a dramatic storyteller.

John: Can we wind all the way back though? Because I’m really curious when you were aware of stories being told on screen. What got you to the point of, “Oh.” Because before you decided, “I’m going to go to school to learn this,” you had to think, “This is a thing that’s interesting to me.” What are those original sparks? Were there things you were seeing? Were there plays you were seeing? How did it all start?

Celine: I think when I was very young – I was like seven – I wrote a poem about a spider eating a butterfly. The poem was about how it is sad that the spider is eating the butterfly, and the butterfly is getting eaten, but what can you do about it? Because spider is really hungry. Spider has to eat. I think that really is my first foray into writing really more than anything. I really do think about that as my first piece of work, because I think that there’s something about that, what that poem is about, that I think lives in me pretty fundamentally. For example, there not ever being any villains.

John: I want to get into that with Past Lives, because it’s a story without villains. I think you said in an interview the only villains are time and circumstance. It’s fate that’s made this thing not be possible in a certain way.

Celine: Time and space.

John: Of course, your characters are able to overcome some of that because of the wonders of technology and Skype, but there’s limits to how much that can happen. But still staying on your trajectory there, you’ve written a poem. You can write a story with characters. But why go into playwriting, why go into filmmaking ultimately, rather than becoming a poet or a novelist? What was the trajectory there? At this point, were you in Korea when you were writing that story? Had you already come over to Canada? What was your history there?

Celine: I wrote the poem in Korea, in Korean. Then when I turned, I think, 13 is when I moved to Canada. I was ESL, so I was learning English. I think that was a main thing that I was doing, and keeping up with schoolwork while being ESL. Eventually though, I took Latin in school, and I became a part of Classics Club.

In Ontario, where I grew up, Ontario, Canada, there is a classics conference. There they actually have a play competition, where you write a play and you get to put it on. There’s also a filmmaking competition, both of which I wrote and directed something for. Mind you, I was still a little ESL. But I wrote a movie and directed it, and then I wrote a play and directed it. This was high school. I think that those were some of the ways that I was just doing it sometimes, doing it any opportunity I could get.

But when I went to college, I went to university for psychology, and I minored in philosophy. I think that for a while there, I thought that I was going to be a psychologist. But I never made it, because in my final year as a psychology student, I wrote two plays for the short play festival that was happening at my university. I was like, “I think I just have to write fictional things, write dramatic things.” Then I think that after that, I started applying to grad school, and I decided to go to school for theater.

John: We have a lot of listeners who are ESL, who either they’re living in the States but grew up ESL, or they’re living internationally and they’re debating between writing in their own native language and writing in English. At what point were you deciding, “I’m going to focus on English,” or, “I’m going to use the two of them.” At what point did you feel like the artistic work needed to incorporate both or one thing? What was your process there?

Celine: I think that to me, it really has to do with who the audience is. I think that if I am making something for a Korean-speaking audience, then I would probably write it in Korean. But I think because my audience that I had moved to New York City to be a part of the community for is an English-speaking audience, so I was writing in English. I think it was very much about, how do I tell the story in a way that the audience is going to come meet it? Who’s going to fill the seats? I think that really was the impetus behind it.

I think something that is very difficult about being ESL is actually less the not knowing English of it, but the lack of confidence, or the way that it is harder to hold onto the confidence, especially as a writer. To be a professional writer, the professional writer means that you are the expert, you’re the chosen expert, or you’re the expert in a community for communication and being able to use language and being able to experiment with language, all of those things.

The ESL, it is, of course, a bit of a chip on your shoulder about, “Yeah, but it’s not my native language, so how good can I be?” That’s of course something that is coming from everyone around you, who when they find out that you’re ESL – or in my situation, I have a light accent for being an immigrant – and all of those things, there is a way in which you are questioned or underestimated by people who English is a native language. But some of that, I think that of course becomes a little bit internalized. So you walk around feeling like, “If I’m ESL, how good can I be?”

But I think that something that really shifted that for me and really gave me such confidence is that, actually, I have a handle on two languages. When I think about the language of English, being able to look at it objectively or think about it objectively or from the outsider perspective, even a little bit, gives me actually more control. It actually gives me a deeper understanding of how English as a language works.

There was a really amazing feeling that I had working on a play where I was like, actually, I am in the engine of the English language, because it didn’t come naturally to me. I didn’t just show up and then English was there for me. I actually had to learn the parts of it. In that way, I can be better at it than a native speaker.

In the meantime, I also have the context of an entirely different language that works completely differently structurally, that gives me the depths of knowledge around language, generally, that it makes me actually a better mechanic in general of any kind of language too. Also, I know what the alternative is. I’m like, “There isn’t a word for it in English, and there is a word for it in Korean.”

What an amazing thing that just the way that I think about the world, the way that I think about character, story, can be just a little bit bigger, because I speak more than one language. I think that that was such a big turning point for my life as ESL. I hope that moment and that feeling of confidence comes to all your listeners who are ESL as well.

John: What I hear you saying is to avoid that tendency to apologize or to step back from the fact that you’re not a native speaker and lean into the fact that because you had to learn it, you actually recognize some things about the language, and you recognize what’s beyond the edges of what’s possible in normal English.

Celine: Yeah, and also specificity. When I’m choosing a word, I can be more specific with it, because it’s not how I have always thought about that word. I can be really specific with it.

John: I grew up in English, but then I had Spanish very early on. Spanish was my first process of learning a language and actually learning, oh, there are verbs, there are nouns, there are adjectives. I actually had to learn all this structural stuff that comes with the language. Getting that in the third grade was really early for me, but it was incredibly helpful to recognize, oh, we must have these same things in English and probably every other language too, and just give you a systematic sense of like, languages will do very different things, but they’ll still have the same concepts behind how they are organizing themselves. It made me just more curious about English, because I could see where the roots of things were. You saw how things grew together and grew apart over time.

Celine: Exactly, yeah.

John: Now, I want to talk to you about writing in English and writing in Korean, because obviously in Past Lives, characters can speak Korean, and we will subtitle it, which is great, because that’s a convention of film is that we can subtitle things. But if you’re doing a play work with Korean characters, subtitling is much more difficult. I haven’t seen your play Endlings, but in that play, are the characters speaking English and speaking Korean? How do you approach that for the stage?

Celine: They speak English. I think that something that I really found is the way that Past Lives is a script that’s written is bilingually. I would write what I wanted the character to say in Korean, and underneath, I would translate it in the way that I saw the subtitles. And of course, I knew that the subtitles is a part of the story.

For example, there’s a scene in the film where the character Hae Sung, who only speaks Korean, the character Arthur, who only speaks English, they meet each other for the very first time. If this movie was about a traditional love triangle, they would start being angry with each other. Because this is an unconventional love triangle, what happens is that Hae Sung and Arthur, they look at each other, and then the first thing that they do is Arthur says hello in Korean, in bad Korean, and Hae Sung says hello in English to Arthur, and in bad English. I

n that way, you’re seeing that these two characters are trying to speak in the other person’s language, and really choosing to speak in a language that is not comfortable for themselves. I think in that way, the movie is fundamentally a bilingual story. It’s actually about bilingualism. It’s about the way that the main character, Nora, holds two parts of herself that are in different languages and different cultures. I think in that way, I knew it needed to be written bilingually, and I am bilingual myself, so that is what I wanted to do.

Then when it came to subtitling the film, I wanted the subtitles to be a part of the picture. It’s part of the visual language of it. When the subtitles show up or the subtitles don’t was something that I wanted to be really specific about, because some part of the language has to remain a mystery, because it is about the mystery of not speaking the other person’s language or not speaking the language of the person that you’re in a marriage with, even. It had to work that way.

John: Obviously, in the childhood sections that are set in Korea, or if you’re with Hae Sung and his friends who are speaking Korean, it’s more conventionally subtitled. You’ve written English lines. You know exactly what they need to be. But it feels more traditional in the New York sections, where there are characters who wouldn’t be able to speak with each other. You’ve been much more cinematic in terms of recognizing the communication gaps between them.

Celine: Of course. Of course, some of the translation is not meant for direct accuracy. It is sometimes rewritten to express the feeling that I need it to be. I think that sometimes it’s like, the metaphor, the poetry of it in English is not going to translate to Korean and vice versa. I think that those are the things that I wanted to be deep in it with, because that’s really what the script was about, and it’s what the movie’s about.

John: Now, before you could go off and make this movie, you actually had another credit. You’re working on Wheel of Time, the Amazon series. I’m really curious, what else were you writing that got you staffed on Wheel of Time? That was your first staffing job. Could you talk us through that? Because a lot of our listeners are probably thinking about, it seems impossible to be staffed on an American show like that. What was your process getting there?

Celine: I think I just wrote a pilot. I wrote a pilot as a spec pilot. It was about professional poker players. It was just there as a sample. It was a traditional three-act with commercial breaks, kind of like a hardcore TV pilot. But the thing is, I know that this is something the showrunner of Wheel of Time, Rafe, and I talked about as the reason why Rafe hired me, which is that Rafe doesn’t play poker, but when he read my pilot, he understood poker, if not the game itself, but what poker is at its heart. Even if you don’t know the mechanic of poker, you understood why poker is fun.

That is a skillset as a writer that he was looking for, because of course, Wheel of Time is a very intricate and deep, with magical systems, fantasy show. You need a writer who is able to translate just a wall of meaning kind of story and to find something that even somebody who’s not familiar with the world can love. I think that that’s why he loved the pilot and that’s why he hired me for it. Also, I am a TV writer who had read Wheel of Time before. I think that was another part that I think was really great.

John: I realize I’m falling into a trap that so often happens in interviews where you assume that every step was deliberate and planned, so that you wrote this pilot so you could get staffed on Wheel of Time. That wouldn’t be the case at all. You’ve gone and got your degree in playwriting, right, as a graduate degree?

Celine: Mm-hmm.

John: But what were those years in between? What were you trying to do that caused you to make the choices you did, to write the plays you did, to write this as a pilot? When did you get your first representation? What was that process like? Because it wasn’t overnight.

Celine: No, of course not. I think that if it is overnight, I think that you pay for it being overnight somewhere else in your career. Does that make sense?

John: Yeah.

Celine: I think that’s a very real thing. But it was certainly not overnight. I graduated from my MFA program for playwriting, and then I didn’t have representation. For many years, I think I really didn’t have anything except for my plays that were getting done in smaller spaces or off-off-Broadway, or if you’re lucky, a little bit of something at off-Broadway. So much of it is about just walking around with your play and submitting your play and hanging out with other playwrights and complaining about how no one’s doing our play. I think so much of it is about working in theater and living in theater.

John: Were you teaching? What else were you doing? What other jobs were you-

Celine: I would have a day job, or it would just be like getting by on things. I had a play that was getting done in Omaha, that got done in Chicago. Sometimes those checks would come in, and that would be really great. But it’s a check for like $500, which at the time was like, “Okay, now I can pay rent.” But it is like that.

I think that in 2017 – I’d been out of school for, I guess at that point, three years – is when I got my agent. I got my agent through, there’s this program at the public theater called Emerging Writers Group. Only people without agents can apply to that program. I went there, and at the end of the two-year program, they set you up on a few dates with agents. One of the agents that I went on a date with is my theater agent now as well. He’s at CAA. Of course, because of the nature of the agent that CAA is, they have many other departments besides theater.

I met my theater agent, and then he helped me get a team together. Then I told them that I would like to staff on something or something. Meanwhile, I was talking to my current film agent. I was telling her about, I’ve been thinking about this movie, Past Lives. I think it’s happening a little bit like that. It really is the work of my agents, who both got me the staff writing gig for Wheel of Time, because they’re the ones who put my poker pilot on Rafe’s desk.

John: Before we jump on to getting Past Lives made, just a moment on Wheel of Time, because that would be a situation where you’re writing in a room. You have a bunch of other writers around you. In what ways was it similar or different to what your experience was as a playwright? Because you were apparently in a playwrights community, so you had some folks around you, but this had to have been different.

Celine: Oh, completely different. But also, I think that the thing that carries us through all of it, through every medium, is our understanding and authorship of characters, story, what we need when it comes to performance. Everything that we know about what is going to work about the script is going to be the thing that carries us through all of it: story and character. That’s it. In that way, it’s not different, because all day in a writers’ room, we’re just talking about story and character. That’s what I was doing in theater. That’s what I was doing on the set of Past Lives too.

The way that it is different is that – especially for a show like Wheel of Time, where the fans of the books themselves is the audience. They’re the primary audience. They’re the ones that we are showing up for – it’s an amazing giving kind of a process. I found it to be a very giving process, where it’s like, “I would like it to be like this.” It’s like, no, no, no, these characters exist. These characters are also dealing with already existing beyond my own personal imagination. They exist in the audience’s imagination, and then of course it all begins with the imagination of the book itself. I think that some of it is about serving the characters or serving the story, which is not necessarily how I think about writing a play, for example.

I think that’s part of it, and also working with other writers on story and character. There’s always something to learn from any writer. My whole writers’ room, I learned so much from every single writer that I worked with there, because the way that I think about story is going to be different than the way they think about story. We may go my way or their way, but either way, it’s all going to be this amazing learning process of me learning how she thinks about the story this way and I think about the story this way. What an amazing thing that there is a different way to think about the same story. I think in that way, I learned so much from it. I don’t know. It was amazing.

John: Now, with Past Lives, you’ve now written a script. You have shown it to your reps. You’re talking about, “I think this is a movie I want to get made.” From those initial conversations, was it, “This is a thing I’ve written for myself to direct.” Was that always part of the framing of it?

Celine: I think that I really wanted to direct, and I really wanted them to see me as the director for it. But I think that it’s a script being written bilingually, and myself being bilingual, or it being such a personal story that is inspired by an autobiographical moment, all of these things were great reasons for them to let me be the director. I think that I was just also making an argument with the script itself, because the script was very much a pitch document for how I imagined this movie to get made. It wasn’t just a script for its own sake. It was very much a description of what I imagined the movie to be. I think these were all things that I was stacking up so that they would really seriously consider letting me direct it. Of course, when I got to, I was so happy.

John: It’s hard to imagine someone reading the script and then meeting you, and it’s like, “Oh, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” or, “She doesn’t know what this is.” Clearly, it was very close to your personal experience. Let’s talk about the process of going out and trying to find producers, trying to find money, what that was like. You have this script, but you also have yourself. Was there a reel? Was there anything else you were showing to convince people this is the vision for the movie?

Celine: There was no reel. There was no deck. It really was just a script. I think it was a script and a conversation. I think that’s the truth of it, because my studio, A24, they read the script, and they felt the things that the audiences are feeling now about the movie at the end. They cried for the same reasons that the audiences are crying about Past Lives now. I think that they were moved by it genuinely. Then it wasn’t a long process from going from there to getting the movie green-lit.

John: To bring the movie into A24, was there a producer? Was Killer Films already attached to it, or did that come later on? Was it CAA who was taking it to A24, or was there other producers brought on first?

Celine: CAA’s bringing it to A24 first, because I always knew that, especially if I wanted to direct it, they’re the ones who take the risk.

John: That felt like the right studio for it, for sure.

Celine: They’re the right studio, because they’re the ones who take the risk on first-time filmmakers. They’ll just go for it that way. I think that we always knew that we wanted to end up there. I feel like that’s one of the first conversations. I feel like when we were there, when I’m talking to them, I think that so much of it is about instilling confidence in them that I can do it.

Besides that, the thing that really opened the door, and the thing I think that, especially because this is a podcast about writing, I feel like something I want to for sure say is that the script is the thing that bursts through every door for me. This movie was going to get made because of the script, and that’s it. I didn’t have to tell them what I could do by making a reel or a short film or anything. Those things were not necessary, because the script was a movie that they wanted to make.

Then from there, even beyond that, from the producers to department heads, every single person who worked in the movie, the thing they were coming to make this movie with me for is not me or my reel, because they’re coming to this project because of the script. Usually, I could tell who was right for the project by how they felt about the script, because of course, when I was talking to my production designer, I knew she was the right person right away, because we just started talking to each other about the script. I knew that this was the right person, because I knew that she understood the script.

It’s an amazing way to also, in a way, learn if this is the right person for the project, which is, did they understand the script? Did they feel the script? Did they feel connected to the script? If they did, they were going to work on the movie. The script was the center of gravity. All I had to do was to remember that even when I didn’t know how to make the movie, because my first movie, and I don’t know how to read a call sheet, even then, I just knew that as long as I hold the key to the script, as long as I’m the expert on the script that I wrote, I’m the ultimate authority on the project.

John: A thing we’ve talked about on the podcast a lot is that the script has to serve so many functions these days. Christopher Nolan was actually on the podcast recently talking about the same thing, which is that even at his level, the script is still the sales document. It’s not just the blueprint, but it’s also embodying the feeling of what this movie’s going to feel like. And that is not only getting the studio involved – A24 in your case – but also all your collaborators, just making sure that they recognize how they can fit into this vision of what you’re trying to do.

When we were meeting with crew for Big Fish or for Charlie’s Angels, those are very different scripts, but do they connect to the vision of it? Because if they don’t connect to the vision of it, they’re not going to be the right person for it. If they don’t get the style, the feel of it, they’re not going to be the right fit, and that’s okay.

Celine: Of course.

John: It’s recognizing that some relationships are meant to work in that thing, and some relationships aren’t. Sometimes you find issues where a person is fantastic; they’re just not the right person for this specific role, this specific part in a production. Sometimes longtime collaborators will split up on a thing, because it’s just not the right fit for both of them.

Celine: I think that’s right about it being the sales document, but I also think about it as the first line of defense too, as in what the project is and how well it’s going to go or what’s going to work about it is going to be all in there. Part of the vision for a thing is coming out of that.

The vision for it, it’s like, I can make as many mood boards as I want. If the story and character and dialog, what the performance needs to be, if those things are not there, there’s no amount of mood boarding that’s going to get any director through anything. I feel like a part of the reason I know that is because I’ve been a writer for the longest part of my life. I also know that so much of it is coming from, that’s the first step towards the vision for it. It is going to completely dictate the vision for it, especially if I am the one who’s directing it. I think you’re right; it also is about collaborators. Maybe it’s just not right for them to work on it, even though they are longtime collaborators and all of that.

But I also think that it’s like, the director is the person who is the passionate core of the whole thing, the writer director, because the script is the center of gravity. And then, of course, all around it, part of how it should work is that the fire that you have, the fire that the script communicates – because that’s how it is. I know that there’s a fire in me that I’m communicating through the script. When they read the script, when they encounter the script, the people who might work on the movie, either it’s going to set them on fire, or they’re not going to understand why it is on fire. Then what you’re hoping for is everybody showing up burning to make this make this movie with you. I think in that way the document has to be damn flammable.

John: Exactly. Now, Celine, when you wrote this script though, this flammable script, you had not been through the process of casting and location scouting and directing and editing, all that stuff. You’ve now gone through all this process. As you’re looking at the writing you’re doing now and the writing going forward, how much do you think the experience of having been through this will influence the words on the page and the script you’re writing going forward?

Celine: Completely. Everything that one does is built on the things that one has done before. I think in that way, without question. I do think that there are parts of going through the whole process that I had done before. For example, casting, I had done before, because I was in theater.

Editing, I realized, I had done before, because editing is such a fundamental part of writing. Editing is something that is happening all the time. Of course, in the editing of a film, you’re also editing it visually on top of it just being text or it just being the way that a performance is going. It’s a funny thing, because those parts, I had no fear or problem around, because this is a thing that I knew how to do.

Editing I knew how to do and casting I knew how to do. Being on set, I did not know how to do. Location scouting, some parts of it, I know what it is, because at the very least, I knew when it wasn’t right, and I knew when it was right. In that way I knew. But now, when I go on location scout, will I actually be able to look at it through the eyes of someone who actually has to go and shoot it? Absolutely. There are parts of prep that I think I just feel so much more equipped for because of it. The writing of it, of course, has always been the way it’s always been. The writing of it is the same.

I do think that I am more efficient though in my second script, my script after Past Lives, because I think that I can already imagine myself sitting in the edit and being like, “Did I need to shoot that scene?” What’s amazing is now that I know what kind of resources are put into shooting a scene, it means in the case of our film, which is, of course, shot in New York, it’s about parking 20 trucks in New York City and bringing hundreds of people around New York City. The work of that, the pain of that, the effort of that, the collective, beautiful effort, the stakes that are involved in shooting a scene I think really does inform the way that I write now, as in when I write a scene, it’s always like, “Is this absolutely the scene that has to be in the film?” The answer has to always be yes, because otherwise, you’re going to be sitting in the editing, it’s like, “Look at the half a million dollars just-”

John: Burning there, yeah.

Celine: “… on the editing room floor.”

John: I made a bunch of movies before I directed my first one. I knew a lot about production and post-production and how it all fit together and worked. But by the time I was writing my first thing that I’m going to direct, I could understand what the constraints were and use those constraints in a really helpful way, to recognize, okay, these locations are going to be onerous unless I make decisions that makes it much more feasible to shoot in these locations.

Recognizing what’s hard and what’s easy in production can really help you out when it comes to making the choices in the script. That’s why we always, on this podcast, encourage people to crew up on a film, experiment, just go out there and learn how actual things get made, because it will help you figure out, in your own writing, how to prioritize if stuff is actually going to work and not get so stuck on things that may end up on the cutting room floor.

Celine: Yeah, totally.

John: We have two listener questions I think you would be a perfect person to help out with here. Drew, can you help us out?

Drew: Nikolai in Denmark writes, “I would love nothing more than to find a writing job in Los Angeles. However, I’m currently an undergraduate student studying literature in Copenhagen, and there’s 5,000 miles and two years of school before even buying a plane ticket to LA is feasible. I was wondering if you think going to a top screenwriting program in LA could be a path towards finding a job, any job, right out of college and starting a career that way.”

Celine: I think that the moving to LA of it feels pretty necessary if you want to make movies in LA. My favorite part of moving to New York City to go to school in New York is also finding the community there, because I didn’t have a community at all in New York City. When I got to go there, I got to meet my classmates, which was a built-in community that comes with the school. They themselves had communities of their own that they could share with me. In that way, I could walk into New York City with the community built in, and one that is expanding. In that way, it was a really rewarding process.

The thing that I don’t think that a MFA program necessarily does for you is make you a better writer, because I think that you walk in as a writer you are, and then you become a better writer by writing a lot in a low-stakes way, which is something amazing about these writing programs. What’s amazing is that you can keep writing and sharing it with peers and keep failing and being bad and all of those things, without there being any professional stakes or any kind of financial stakes, except for, of course, the tuition fee. That’s a stake. But as long as that’s figured out, I think you are able to fail outside of the view of anybody who is in the industry or anything for a really long time. I think through that, you become a better writer.

Of course, one can find mentorship in the professors, who have gone through the industry and the life as an artist for far longer than you have, or far deeper than you have, at least. They’re able to provide such mentorship or a sense of how to navigate certain things. These are some of the things that really work about it.

Now, if you think that you’re going to move to LA and go to school there and then you’re going to have a career outside of it when you come out of it, I think, unfortunately, that is not a guarantee, to say the least. You still got to do it yourself. Every single part of this is something that you have to do yourself. No one else can do it for you, not even the grad school program that you’re paying a lot of money to go to.

John: Celine, you and I both have MFAs. No one has ever asked to see our MFA.

Celine: Oh my god. Why would they? I wouldn’t ask to see my MFA.

John: A huge plus one on everything you said. I think it’s such good advice, that you’re going to find a community and some mentorship, and those are all good things about a film program. The downside, of course, is the cost. What is probably useful for Nikolai to be thinking about is that getting into one of these programs is a way to get his visa and get him to the U.S. and get him here for two years. That’s worth a lot, so that’s really a lot of what you’re going to be spending your money on.

If you decide to do it, Nikolai, I would just say make sure you’re really approaching this as this is your mission, this is your job. You’re coming here to do a thing, because you’re only going to get out of one of these programs as much as you put in. Really be looking at it like, “I’m full speed going ahead.” If you don’t think you’re quite ready for it right after undergrad, then take a year, just grow up a little bit, so that way you would actually come to a program, you’re ready to kick ass in it. Drew, another question from Jacob here.

Drew: Jacob writes, “My writing partner and I just finished writing the pilot for a comedy show we’re developing. We’ve begun inviting our writer and actor friends to join us for a table read, so that we can hear our script out loud and hopefully get some honest feedback. My writing partner and I are in disagreement. Do we share the script ahead of time for our writer and actor friends, or do we have them read it blind?”

John: Celine, what’s your instinct on table reads? Because you probably do this in theater as well.

Celine: Theater is just all table reads. Theater is just reading after reading after reading. I actually have trouble really seeing the script that I’ve written, whether it’s a play or a screenplay, unless I’ve heard it out loud in a little room full of my friends.

My answer to this question is I think that they should read it blind, as though they are your audience, because how good the performance is in the reading is not helpful. In fact, I really don’t personally ever invite actors to the reading of my first draft, because actors can make the script sound a lot better than it is. We love actors, and we rely on them so much, but I think sometimes what happens is the actors are also auditioning for the role when they’re reading it. Sometimes that’s undue pressure on the script.

I think the performance part of it is not necessarily valuable for a script, because what you would need from that reading is objectivity. What you need from that reading is the way that the story and the writing itself is hitting the first very small group of audience. I usually invite fellow writers or people who are not in the industry or something, but are able to read on sight.

I’m sure you can go through your list of friends, and you can find a funny list there. But I think it’s usually somebody whose main job is not being an actor and somebody who’s able to read on sight and is able to be clear in their reading, but does not have high stakes when they show up, and will talk to you, like a very first audience member, and who’s not going to be weird or mean about anything, who’s not going to be strange about it, but who’s going to be a wonderful vibe on top of everything. I think that once you find some of those people, I think they’re the folks who have to read it.

But I don’t think you should show it in advance, because you just want to see the way that the script is hitting them live, because that’s where you’re going to learn if the script is working. If the joke doesn’t hit, you don’t want to wonder if the reason why the joke didn’t hit is because they already read the joke and they already laughed about it. You want to see if the joke actually isn’t hitting the audience or that it is actually hitting the audience.

John: Mike Birbiglia, when he is doing one of his movies, he will bring over a group of friends, and with pizza. I think he’s very deliberately, like what you say, lowering the stakes. No one is auditioning for a part. They’re just reading through the script and getting a sense of does this feel like it’s working. They can have constructive conversations. Agreed, Celine; if you bring an actress to do that, they can sell something that doesn’t really quite work. There’s that feeling that they’re auditioning for stuff, and that can just be really tough, so I think really smart advice here.

It’s time for our One Cool Things, where we recommend something to our audience that they should check out, something useful or fun. Mine is something I just find myself using all the time. I don’t think I’ve talked about it on the podcast before. It’s called Shottr. It’s an app for the Macintosh which basically just takes screenshots.

So often, there’s something on your screen that you want to take a shot of and send to somebody or remember. You have the built-in screenshotting stuff in the Mac, but then it just saves it as some randomly named file. This is an app that you hit the keyboard command, take your little screenshot, and then you can just do stuff with it. You can mark it up. You can annotate it. You can put little arrows, like, “This is the problem.” It just makes life so much easier and handier. A quick little utility. I think it’s five bucks. Called Shottr. It’s S-H-O-T-T-R dot-CC is the URL for it. Check it out if you’re on Macintosh and you take some screenshots. Celine, do you have anything to recommend?

Celine: Yes. Baldur’s Gate 3. That’s what I recommend.

John: Oh my god, it’s so amazing. We talk about it on the podcast all the time. Tell us, Celine, who are you playing as your hero, and what’s your experience in it?

Celine: I am a custom character. Her name is Faunta. Part of it is that I just treat it as a story mode dating sim a little bit.

John: 100 percent, because you’re trying to connect with all the different characters in the game.

Celine: Exactly. I think you can play it however you want. It’s one of the most in-depth storytelling, I don’t even know what to call it, storytelling thing that I’ve ever experienced.

John: Isn’t it just so well written? I’m flabbergasted how well it’s put together.

Celine: It’s beautifully written. I’m fully invested in the characters. I’m fully invested in the story. Of course it has so many things that are usually just fantasy things, like the magic. It’s because it’s so foundational to the fantasy genre, the Dungeons and Dragons of it anyway. I think that those things are all there, but I think even beyond that, I just feel so immersed in it. I really do think that these characters are living and walking around in that way. I don’t know. I’m just so moved by it. I’m obsessed with it. I play it all the time.

I think that as a storytelling thing, I’m just, you’re right, flabbergasted. I’m just totally blown away by how good it is, and how I’ll just get into a story, and I’ll be so in it, and it’ll be so complex. The characters are all responding to it in an unbelievably sophisticated way.

John: Then to recognize how many branching decisions they had to plan for, because is that character even still alive at this point? Has Astarion ever met this character? It’s wild.

Celine: Of course. The consequence is real. There are real consequences to the story. It’s not like, however you play, you’re going to all end up here. No, you may not end up there. You may have a completely different situation. Now, you cannot deal with this character that way anymore because of what you’ve done last chapter. I don’t know. I’m just so into it. My TikTok algorithm is all Baldur’s Gate right now. Anyway, it’s so good.

John: The YouTube algorithm keeps sending me videos of like, here’s the interactions you missed or when Minthara becomes a zombie. It’s all the different wild things that could happen because of choices character make.

Celine: Of course.

John: Just that sense of agency that it gives you as the protagonist, whatever your hero is in it is just really remarkable.

Celine: It’s really remarkable, yeah.

John: Basically, we have a podcast now where we talk about how good Baldur’s Gate 3 is, but it’s true. It’s really, really good.

Celine: It’s true. It is really, really good. Game of the year.

John: What’s also really, really good is Past Lives, your film. Congratulations on it. Congratulations on your nominations. It’s such a delight to see. I remember my first experience with Past Lives was I was on a long international flight, and the woman next to me was watching Past Lives. I wasn’t even sure what it was. I could see Greta Lee and just some movie there. She must’ve watched it like three times on the flight. I’m like, why are you watching this movie again and again and again? I waited and watched it in a proper non-airplane environment. But it really is so well done, so congratulations on everything you’ve achieved so far.

Celine: Thank you so much.

John: I can’t wait to see what you do next.

Celine: Thank you. It’s in movie theaters again.

John: That’s exciting.

Celine: So amazing.

John: People can see it.

Celine: So exciting.

John: That’s our show for this week. Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt, edited by Matthew Chilelli. Our outro this week is by Nico Mansy. If you have an outro, you can send us a link to ask@johnaugust.com. That’s also the place where you can send questions. You’ll find the show notes for this episode and all episodes at johnaugust.com. That’s also where you’ll find transcripts and sign up for our weekly-ish newsletter called Inneresting, which has lots of links to things about writing. We have T-shirts and hoodies. They’re great. You’ll find them at Cotton Bureau.

You can sign up to become a premium member at scriptnotes.net, where you get all the back-episodes and bonus segments, like the one we’re about to record on The Seagull staged in Sims 4. Celine Song, absolute pleasure having you on the show.

Celine: Thanks for having me.

[Bonus Segment]

John: When I saw this in your bio, I knew I had to talk to you about this. You staged a version of The Seagull, the classic play, but you staged it inside Sims 4 and streamed it on Twitch; is that right?

Celine: Mm-hmm.

John: Talk to us about your impetus behind doing that. I also would just love to talk about this notion of theater kind of things that happen online. Tell us about how this came to be.

Celine: It was just really during COVID. The theater that I had a play, Endlings, done at, because of COVID, had shut down prematurely. We had two weeks of previews, we had opening night and then we got to do one more performance, and then the play got shut down. I was, of course, so heartbroken.

Then I think the theater was, because it is so much about people gathering and it’s about live performance, that I think there were questions about what theater community can be doing at this moment to make theater. I think that New York Theater Workshop, which is the theater that did Endlings, they asked me if I want to do anything in the virtual space, whether a Zoom play or whatever. They were like, “Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it. We’ll do a production of it, whatever it may be.”

I really just thought at that moment, it’s like, “I’ve been watching a lot of live performance, actually,” and a lot of live performances in the video game streaming world, where all of these characters and personalities, they were streaming video games. It’s a funny durational performance in a way, because they’re streaming for like six hours playing Overwatch or something. I was watching a lot of it. In fact, there is all the joys of a live performance in that. There’s something about it where there’s the spontaneity in it. There is a bit of like, we know what we’re going to do, but it also is a little bit unknown, we don’t actually know what’s going to happen, feeling of it.

I think that at that moment, I was like, “What if I was to stage a play in a video game?” Then a thought I had was, because The Sims is, I’ve always felt, so Chekhovian, because The Sims is about life as it is, and the difficulty of life as it is, and the pain of living as it is. Those are things that are fundamental to a Chekhov play. My favorite Chekhov play is The Seagull. It really was that the New York Theater Workshop called me, and then I think on that phone call I came up with the idea. I was like, “What if I stage a play in The Sims? It should be a Chekhov play, maybe The Seagull.” I think that’s really the process for it.

Then of course, what I really loved is that when I was doing the play, the two completely different communities came together. Then of course, there was community that had a relationship to both sides, which is the people who are theater goers, who never watch video game streaming, who don’t have a relationship to video games, and video game players and video game stream watchers, who don’t actually know anything about the classic play. Then there were those of us who were in the middle of that Venn diagram, where we are in a circle that contains both of those communities. We were like, “We know video games. We play Sims. We grew up on Sims. That’s part of our community. But also, we know what Chekhov is.” I think that all three groups of people came together.

I staged a play for two nights. I think each performance, quote unquote, was four hours each, and it happened over two nights. It started from me basically casting and costuming the characters to going through all four acts of the play.

John: That’s great. I remember during the pandemic, my daughter was in high school at the time, and she was involved with theater. Their plays got knocked to being Zoom plays. One of them was more traditional. One of them was just chaos. It was interesting to be able to experience this as a live event – a sort of live event. My mom could watch it from Colorado. People could participate in something in a way that wasn’t traditional. And yet I do feel like I associated so strongly with the pandemic and being trapped in that place that it’s hard for me to vision them trying to do that kind of thing now. And yet there was something really amazing about that new form being out there.

What do you see as things you took from that or things you’ve seen since then that we could keep doing, bringing weird communities together, or finding new ways to stage either classic things or storytelling that is meant to be streamed live, versus a classic either filmed or stage entertainment? What do you think is still entertainment in that space?

Celine: The ancient way of storytelling, which is just the setup, the revelation, introducing a character, you see the rise and fall of that character, there is certain things about storytelling that is fundamental in the bones of it. It’s always going to be, no matter in what form and no matter in what generation, is going to just work, because as a story, that just works. I think it’s about remembering that part while we are adapting and navigating the new realities, the new ways of watching things, the new ways of hearing stories, new ways of telling stories.

I think that even through all of that, what I find over and over again is that there are stories that endure, and these are the stories that have existed forever. We know that cavemen told these stories. To know that those stories are still going to be the same stories that is going to move us, that’s going to mean something to us, I think that it is to hold these two contradictory thoughts themselves. I don’t think we can stop progress or the way the technology is coming in or the way that storytelling as a form is changing all the time. I don’t think it’s possible for… It’s like trying to stop the ocean with your hand.

But I know that even through all of that, what I’ve learned, and what I’ve also learned through telling the story that is Past Lives, and to tell it globally, and to tell it to every generation, it is always that every step of the way, what works about the Past Lives story is one that would’ve worked on the cavemen too. I think it’s that. It sounds contradictory, but I know it’s not, the feeling that it’s both. It is that it is eternally traditional and conventional and ancient and that it is brand new. It’s always changing. It’s always different.

John: On this thread of classic stories or ancient stories or retold in different ways, I want to acknowledge that Sleep No More is closing in New York. Sleep No More as an experiential place, where the story was happening around you, and yet you weren’t always seeing all parts of it. In some ways is like Baldur’s Gate, in which you’re not going to catch all the threads. There’s no way to actually see all the different possible branches of it. I do think there’s room for experimentation. There’s room to try new things.

Some of our listeners who are probably so focused on, “I want to staff on a TV show,” or, “I want to go make a movie,” should not discount the possibility that there could be some fascinating way to tell a story that’s not part of those traditional buckets, and do that if it’s interesting to them, because they are more likely to find that new thing than an established filmmaker is to do it. They have the freedom and the access and the membership in a community that might be able to help them find a new way to tell a story.

Celine: Of course. Also, the truth is that everybody’s looking for the thing that worked before. I think some of it is about how we break through the risk-averseness of the industry.

John: Celine, absolute pleasure talking with you about this as well.

Celine: So fun. Thank you so much.

Links:

  • Celine Song on IMDb and Instagram
  • Past Lives
  • The Seagull on The Sims 4
  • The Wheel of Time
  • A real bald eagle call vs a red-tailed hawk
  • Deadwood and The American President
  • Shottr
  • Baldur’s Gate 3
  • Get a Scriptnotes T-shirt!
  • Check out the Inneresting Newsletter
  • Gift a Scriptnotes Subscription or treat yourself to a premium subscription!
  • Craig Mazin on Threads and Instagram
  • John August on Threads, Instagram and Twitter
  • John on Mastodon
  • Outro by Nico Mansy (send us yours!)
  • Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt and edited by Matthew Chilelli.

Email us at ask@johnaugust.com

You can download the episode here.

Scriptnotes, Episode 628: The Fandom Menace, Transcript

February 22, 2024 Scriptnotes Transcript

The original post for this episode can be found [here](https://johnaugust.com/2024/the-fandom-menace).

**John August:** Hello and welcome. My name is John August.

**Craig Mazin:** Hello and welcome. My name is Craig Mazin.

**John:** This is Episode 628 of Scriptnotes, a podcast about screenwriting and things that are interesting to screenwriters.

Today on the show, Craig and I will discuss how things get cool, then hot, then terrible. We’ll have listener questions and a ton of follow-up, including about secret projects and alternative screenplay formats, something that Craig is always into talking about.

**Craig:** I’m into it.

**John:** In our bonus segment for premium members, we will look at various fandoms and do our best to absolutely enrage them.

**Craig:** Oh, no.

**John:** Oh, no. That’s why we put it behind the paywall. If you want to be angry with you, you gotta pay us some money.

**Craig:** Pay $5 to watch us get beat into a pulp. Fun.

**John:** Craig, we missed you last week. Aline was on, and we discussed How Would This Be a Movie. We had some new topics for How Would This Be a Movies. Also, this week, I was looking through the chapter on picking which movie to write, for the Scriptnotes book. I mentioned, oh, a bunch of our previous How Would This Be a Movies have become movies. I had Drew get on the case to figure out how many of those that we discussed actually did become movies. The number is shocking. Drew’s going to help us out, talking through the things that became movies, the things that became documentaries, and the things that are in development right now. Drew.

**Craig:** Wow.

**John:** Talk us through how many of these projects have actually been made since we discussed them.

**Drew Marquardt:** Twelve of these have actually been made as narrative feature films.

**Craig:** Jeez. Wow.

**Drew:** Or series.

**John:** Also, Craig, you start to realize, man, we’ve been doing this for 10 years, so some of them I knew, like The 15:17 to Paris, which is about those Americans who prevented the terrorist attack. That was a Clint Eastwood movie. I knew that happened. Zola we talked about at the Austin Film Festival. That became a movie. Do you remember The Hatton Garden Job, which was the old men-

**Craig:** The old guys, yeah.

**John:** Yeah, the heist. Two of those happened.

**Craig:** They made two of those?

**John:** Yeah.

**Craig:** I like that. You’re making the movie, and someone’s like, “We’ve gotta beat the other The Hatton Garden Job movie.” Oh, business.

**John:** Business, business. But Drew, talk us through some of the other things we had in How Would This Be a Movie.

**Drew:** There was also The Act, which was the Dee Dee Blanchard and Gypsy-Rose Blanchard.

**John:** She just got out of prison, right? I didn’t really follow that story closely.

**Craig:** Yeah. Apparently, our daughters’ generation is obsessed with Gypsy-Rose and her impending freedom, or freedom. She’s become a cult hero among the children, because she murdered someone or whatever.

**John:** What else we got, Drew?

**Drew:** There’s also The Mandela Effect, which was just the idea that we had talked about, but they made into a feature. There’s Stolen By My Mother: the Kamiyah Mobley Story, which was the young woman who discovered she was kidnapped as a baby by the woman she thought was her mom.

**Craig:** I don’t even remember that one.

**John:** I don’t remember that one at all.

**Craig:** Wow.

**Drew:** There’s the Danish series The Investigation, which is about Kim Wall’s murder.

**Craig:** Of course.

**John:** It’s a submarine murder. That’s right.

**Drew:** Six Triple Eight, which is in post-production right now, but Tyler Perry directed it. It’s about the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion, which was the predominantly Black battalion of women during World War II in the Army Corps.

**John:** I do remember that. I remember thinking, “Is there enough of a story there?” It was a part of history I didn’t know existed. We’ll see if there’s a story there.

**Drew:** We have How to Murder Your Husband, which was about the woman who wrote the book How to Murder Your Husband and then murdered her husband.

**Craig:** Oh, murder lady. Come on.

**John:** It’s a great title, so that’s why it needed to happen.

**Craig:** How to murder your husband, step 1: don’t write a thing about how to murder your husband. Jeez.

**John:** It could actually go on endlessly, because if you make a movie called How to Murder Your Husband, everyone’s going to suspect you of murdering your husband. It’s perfect.

**Craig:** Now I’m rooting for that person to murder their husband. What else did we do?

**Drew:** Death Saved My Life they made into a Lifetime movie, which is the wife who showed up at her own funeral, because her husband had her killed but not well.

**Craig:** Oh, man.

**John:** Death Saved My Life, I guess that’s a good title. It’s a good Lifetime title. It’s a good book title, so sure, I’ll get that.

**Craig:** I’m with them.

**Drew:** There’s Dumb Money, which came out last year.

**John:** We talked about that. It’s about the GameStop situation and story. Not at all surprised that happened.

**Craig:** No, considering that I personally received multiple calls from multiple companies about it.

**John:** As did I.

**Craig:** I was like, “Okay, apparently they’re making this thing.”

**John:** Craig, you and I should’ve both taken the job for different companies and just raced to see which one-

**Craig:** Wow. Just go head to head in the theaters.

**Drew:** Then finally, Holiday Road, which I think might’ve been a TV movie, but that was the 13 stranded strangers who all rent a van together when they can’t get a flight.

**Craig:** Here’s my question. Of all of these, how was our batting average on predicting whether or not they would be made?

**John:** That could be good follow-up for Drew, because I don’t think you went through and looked at that. Drew, maybe for next week, can you take a look at, of those movies, how many did we say, okay, that’s definitely going to happen?

**Drew:** Absolutely.

**Craig:** Similarly, were there any where we were like, “Never in a million years will anyone make this.”

**John:** That’s what I’m excited to see. We’ll put it on the blog so people can see which of these movies happened and which one didn’t. But you also found 10 things that are in development, including-

**Craig:** Jeez.

**John:** … one about Jim Obergefell, the Hulk Hogan Gawker lawsuit, Dr. James Barry, who was a gender-fluid Victorian doctor, which I remember we thought was really interesting, and apparently is Rachel Weisz. Feels like the perfect casting for that.

**Craig:** That’s great.

**John:** There’s the PTA mom for drug dealing. You May Want to Marry My Husband. These Witchsy founders who formed a fake male co-founder.

**Drew:** Brie Larson got that one.

**Craig:** Oh, nice.

**John:** Perfect.

**Craig:** Nice.

**John:** McDonald’s Monopoly.

**Craig:** That one is a great one.

**John:** The Scottish hip-hop hoax. Sam Bankman-Fried and FTX. There’s a bunch of those things. That was also a thing that came to me a couple times. There probably will be a Sam Bankman-Fried movie. I think it’s tough. I think the relative lack of success of Dumb Money is going to very much hurt the Sam Bankman-Fried movie, but we’ll see.

**Craig:** They’re going to make it anyway.

**John:** George Santos, there’s at least one movie. That’s right, we talked about that, the George Santos movie, the one that Frank Rich is doing.

**Craig:** All I need to know is Frank Rich. I’m in. That’s great. This is pretty remarkable. Similarly, I’m interested to see if any of these we thought were not even worthy of development. The conceited question is, hey, are people listening to us and then just rushing out to get this done? But I suspect not. I suspect there is an industry of assistants that are doing nothing but Buzzfeed-style collating whatever buzzy news item of the day is and putting it in front of people, and then there’s just a general race to get rights and make a thing. It is amazing how many of these are getting made.

**John:** I was just surprised at the total numbers here. We’ll also include in the blog post the ones that were made as documentaries, because I think a thing we often talked about is, is the best version of this a fictionalized version, or do we just want to see the documentary series that tracks that, which in some cases may be more compelling.

**Craig:** That’s very interesting. Good to know that we’re not just wildly off, at least with the things we’re considering. I root for all movies.

**John:** Root for movies and TV series. Some more follow-up. We talked two episodes ago about accurate but distracting, so things that, if you put them in your script, they might be actually accurate to what happens in real life, but would be distracting to the viewer or to the reader. We have some follow-up from that.

**Drew:** Richard in Boston writes, “There’s an example of this that historical fiction writers have to deal with called the Tiffany Problem. It was coined by fantasy writer Joe Walton. The Tiffany Problem describes the tension between historical fact and the average, everyday person’s idea of history. If you’re reading a book that takes place in medieval times, you’ll have trouble believing that a character’s name could be Tiffany, even though Tiffany is actually a medieval name that goes back to the 12th century. But in our modern perception of the medieval world, Tiffany just doesn’t fit. Even though authors might research carefully and want to include historically accurate information in their book, like a medieval character named Tiffany, a popular audience likely won’t buy it.”

**Craig:** Wow.

**John:** Totally tracks. I love that as a name for that phenomenon.

**Craig:** That really does track. I would absolutely be stopped in my tracks if there was a scene in a medieval story and Tiffany shows up. That would just seem anachronistic. That’s a great example. I guess in the end, it really doesn’t… There’s no victory in saying afterwards, “No no no, Tiffany was a name,” because people are like, “I guess now that I know, that’s interesting, but in the meantime, it screwed up my enjoyment of this story.” Tiffany. All right. I like that.

**John:** Now, I don’t want to get Drew’s mailbox overflowing with stuff, but if you are a listener who has another example of something that really does match the Tiffany Problem, which is basically something that is historically accurate or accurate to true life but is distracting if you were to encounter it, I’d love more examples of that, because it feels like Tiffany’s great, but I think we can find more ways that this manifests.

A thing I’ve talked about on the show a lot is that when I want a bedtime book, I love a book that is really interesting and completely forgettable, that you can read, and the minute you set the book down, you don’t think about it, so you can fall back asleep. I’ve been reading some books on counterfactual history, basically like, what if this thing happened in a certain way.

**Craig:** Alternative history, yeah.

**John:** Love it. One of the stories I wasn’t familiar with was Arminius, who’s also known as Hermann, who’s the German barbarian chief who drove back the Romans at a certain time. In reading this account of Arminius, “That’s a fascinating movie. I’m surprised no one has made a movie about that. Let me Google and see why no one has made a movie about it.” It turns out there’s two seasons of a Netflix show that is specifically about that. There’s just too much-

**Craig:** Netflix.

**John:** … Netflix.

**Craig:** Come on.

**John:** There’s just too much Netflix.

**Craig:** It’s almost like Netflix has become like Google, but instead of getting a search result, you get a series.

**John:** Yes, exactly.

**Craig:** It’s insane.

**John:** I looked at the trailer. It looked great. I’m like, “Great. Someone has already made the thing I was thinking about making.” Congratulations. I will say I’ve not watched a frame of the actual series. They shot it in Latin and in German, which feels great.

**Craig:** Whoa. That’s impressive.

**John:** Kudos to them. Kudos to everybody involved in making Barbarians, which I may watch at some point, I may not watch at some point. But I know it’s out there, and I know that I, John August, don’t have to write it. That sometimes is the greatest relief.

**Craig:** Apparently, we don’t have to write anything, because Netflix did it.

**John:** Another thing I don’t have to write is the Harry Potter series.

**Craig:** Segue man.

**John:** Episode 623, I talked about a project. This is when we were talking about bake-offs. I talked about a project that had come into my orbit, and they asked, “Hey, would you want to adapt this very popular piece of IP.” I’m sure, Craig, you were guessing it was Harry Potter. We can now reveal it was Harry Potter. They’re doing a Harry Potter series for HBO Max or Max. Deadline posted a story about who the finalists were who are going through the process. I wish them all well. They did find people who have good, proper credits. I do wish them well. I do think it’s just a very hard road ahead for them.

**Craig:** I have no inside information on this. I work at HBO, but no one has ever talked to me about Harry Potter. I don’t know what it is. It seems like it’s about adapting the books. That was what I initially thought. But then they’re saying in this article, “We’ve heard that the group of writers were commissioned by Max.” First of all, that’s cool that they’re paying them.

**John:** Yeah, they’re paying somebody.

**Craig:** “To create pitches for a series reflecting their take on the IP.” Now, I guess my question is – and this is my dum-dum question – what take? I thought that the idea was, we’re going to take each book and adapt it fully over a season, because those books are big. When they were adapted into movies, very successfully, of course they had to do quite a bit of compacting. I guess maybe there’s more to it than that. I don’t know. I’m fascinated by this.

I would be terrified to be one of these people. They’re way braver than I am. There’s something very scary about knowing that there’s somebody somewhere else doing what you were doing, to try and do what you’re doing, and maybe will do what you do instead of you. It’s scary. But I do think on the plus side, they’re being paid, so that’s actually quite good. On the downside, I could also see where this becomes this cottage industry, where you’re paying people to do these pitches, but you’re not paying that much. The thing about pitching a season is you have to do quite a bit of work.

**John:** Oh god, so much.

**Craig:** That’s definitely an imposing prospect. I guess for something that is as huge as Harry Potter is – and it is – it’s almost as close as you can get to a guaranteed success, as far as I can tell. I can see why it is like this, because I assume also that these people will have to meet with JK Rowling and get along with her, because she’s always part of it.

**John:** If you look at the attempts to expand the franchise beyond those books, they’ve not succeeded. They’ve succeeded in physical spaces. I feel like the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, tremendous success, those things, but the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them have had diminishing returns. Hardcore Harry Potter fans are not as enamored with those as with the original books, of course. It looks like, based on this article – and we don’t know the inside truth here – is that some of these takes may be moving outside of the books, some of them may be more faithful adaptations of the books.

**Craig:** I don’t know. Those movies, I guess they did well enough for them to make more. They ran into some trouble, because Johnny Depp suddenly was in a situation. They may have not been the size of the original Harry Potter films, but I think they were doing okay. The Harry Potter play, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, is a phenomenon, our friend Jack Thorne being the primary playwright there. Well, the playwright. I guess, technically, Jack wrote the play Harry Potter and the Cursed Child from an original story by him, JK Rowling, and John Tiffany. Tiffany. Then the Harry Potter video game was an enormous hit.

**John:** Absolutely.

**Craig:** In the world of video games, there are some enormous hits. When they are enormous, they dwarf what we do. That was one of them.

**John:** I guess I should restate that they’ve had a hard time expanding it out as a filmed franchise, but this is maybe possible, going to happen. For folks who are looking at, oh, what is a popular book series that did not get a good treatment, Percy Jackson. The movies were not a big success. The new series on Disney Plus is terrific. For folks who are curious about that, really worth watching. I thought it was just a very smart adaptation, much more faithful to the books. My daughter, who grew up reading those books, loved it. They really are quite enjoyable. It was well cast. So difficult to get great performances from young actors, and this succeeded in it.

**Craig:** It is.

**John:** It’d recommend it for people.

**Craig:** Great. We wish those folks the best of luck. I don’t know if they’ll want to do this, but when it’s all done and the winner of, what is it, the tri-cup wizard, the tri-wizard tournament, whoever wins the big cup that actually turns out to be a Horcrux or, no, a Portkey, it would be great to have them on our show, just to talk about the process, if they’re willing.

**John:** Of course.

**Craig:** It’s fascinating to me. I get it, but also, it makes me nervous.

**John:** It does. Also, I think you have to look at are you going with people who are familiar with the movie series or new folks. That’s a challenging [crosstalk 16:09].

**Craig:** I could be wildly off here, but I suspect that the Harry Potter books are transgenerational, that people who read them as children are now reading them to their children, that they aren’t going anywhere ever.

**John:** I don’t know that to be the case. I feel like there’s been such a backlash against JK Rowling that I wonder if that’s still the case.

**Craig:** There is a backlash against JK Rowling on Twitter and social media, no question. I don’t think that that has translated into the actual audience and how they interact with the stories and the characters. I will cite the video game again, because when the video game came out, that was thick in the middle-

**John:** That’s true.

**Craig:** … of JK Rowling and her controversies. People were really angry about the game and angry at the game, and yet it sold a gazillion copies. There is a disconnect, I think, between… There’s a topic. One day we should probably jump on the third rail, John, and discuss the notion of separating the art from the artist, because this comes up all the time.

**John:** For sure. Noted for future discussion is how we separate those things. We’ll find some other good examples of what do you do with problematic people who also make art.

**Craig:** Roald Dahl.

**John:** Roald Dahl, Joss Whedon. It’s tough. There’s that tendency to retroactively discount the thing that they were able to make and do, because we now believe that they’re terrible people.

**Craig:** There’s also this weird phenomenon of feeling guilty about enjoying something. Roald Dahl said a lot of really antisemitic stuff. Not mildly. Very. I love Roald Dahl books. I do. I love them. I really enjoy the Wes Anderson Henry Sugar adaptation. I feel like I’m a little like, “Should I?” Then I’m like, “I really like the stories.”

**John:** Let’s talk about some UK writing credits. In 625, I think we were answering a listener question about UK credits, and we said we know they work differently. Tom wrote in with some follow-up about that.

**Drew:** Tom is the chair of the Writers Guild of Great Britain Film Committee, which is the WGGB. He writes, “Per the question from the British writer, I thought that you and indeed he would be interested to know that the WGGB and the Producers Alliance of Cinema and Television, or PACT, negotiated the screenwriting credits agreement way back in 1974. This agreement is referenced in the 1992 basic screenwriting agreement between our two organizations. Both these agreements are in the process of being updated, as we seek to bake in some of the gains secured in last year’s WGA strike, so thank you for that. We operate under a different labor framework in the UK, so these agreements are only advisory. Specific clauses can be negotiated out, though obviously we discourage that. Most screen credits are agreed in consultation between the producers and the writers in question. However, the Writers Guild of Great Britain does arbitrate on small number of credit disputes every year, following similar guidance to that used by the WGA.”

**John:** That’s great. It’s good to have some answers there.

**Craig:** Yeah. This is not surprising. The Writers Guild of America has a very legalistic system to arbitrate and assign credits. It is contractually the sole arbiter and sole authority of credit assignation. Other places, there’s that big bus-sized loophole that you can drive through, which is advisory or in consultation between producers and writers. It is not as strong of a system, presuming one agrees that the Writers Guild has the best interest of writers at heart, which I think it does. It’s just that when you are deciding what credits should be, there are sometimes winners and losers, and people that don’t get the credit are upset. But it’s good to know that there’s something. But I’m not surprised to see that it is not the ironclad structure that we have here in the U.S.

**John:** Absolutely. All these things come down to power. In the U.S., the Writers Guild has the power to basically force this system upon the makers of film and television. But the Producers Guild, for example, does not have that degree of power. But they have been able to negotiate and cajole and get people to take their PGA credits seriously, so that now when you see a PGA after a producer’s name, you can recognize, oh, that’s the person who did really more of the producing job, and it’s just not a person whose name showed up for various contractual reasons.

**Craig:** That’s interesting. I am a member of the PGA. I don’t put the PGA thing after my name, only because it just feels a little bit like a odd degree I earned in college or something.

**John:** But if you were producing a feature film, you might be more inclined to use it, I suspect.

**Craig:** Ultimately, I don’t think people at home care, but what the PGA does do is leverage its agreement with the Academies to determine who is eligible to win awards. That is actually quite a bit of interesting power that they’ve garnered for themselves. I think ultimately serves as their most relevant function. When the Oscars are coming, and Best Picture is announced, producers will go up to accept the Best Picture. Those producers have been vetted by the PGA. This works for the Emmys as well. We get a questionnaire, and they ask me, “What did these people do? Just tell us what they did.” And I do, and then they make their decisions.

**John:** More follow-up in Episode 626. We talked about the Nobel Prize and the Ig Nobel Prize, which I knew was a thing, but I didn’t know exactly what it was. Matt wrote in with some more specificity here.

**Drew:** Matt says, “The Ig Nobel Prize already exists, and they celebrated their 33rd First Annual Ceremony in 2023, based on offbeat yet real science. The prizes are often presented by true Nobel laureates.” Matt says, “I personally appreciate their method of preventing long acceptance speeches, where an eight-year-old girl marches on stage to tell the recipients to, ‘Please stop. I’m bored,’ while the audience throws paper airplanes at the stage.”

**Craig:** That is very reminiscent of what happened at this year’s Emmys, where Anthony Anderson, the host, brought his mom. When people talked too long, they put a camera on his mom with a mic, and she just told the people to stop. I gotta tell you, it only really happened once. After that one time, I think everybody was terrified of Anthony Anderson’s mom.

I think she should be at all of these award shows. There’s really no excuse for it. They tell you very clearly you have 45 seconds, which is actually a lot of time. Some people go up there and just don’t seem to… They think, “Oh, but not really.” No, really. We’re in show business. We all understand that there’s timing. It’s remarkable to me that people just don’t do that. In any case, Anthony Anderson’s mom or an eight-year-old girl marching on stage, either way, yes, genius. Much better than the playoff music.

**John:** Craig, I did not watch any of the award shows so far this year. You attended many of them.

**Craig:** You missed it.

**John:** Give us a quick review.

**Craig:** I lost.

**John:** How was it for you?

**Craig:** I lost. I lost.

**John:** You lost and you lost and lost and lost and lost.

**Craig:** I lost. I lost. And then I lost.

**John:** But your show won many awards that were not part of the main telecast, which is great.

**Craig:** Yes, we did. We won eight Emmy Awards, which is one shy, I believe, of the record for most for a first-season show. That was terrific. I would have probably felt a bit more glum about constantly losing all the big awards, had it not been that I was losing to Jesse Armstrong and Succession. He is such a lovely, wonderful guy. Have we not had him on the show?

**John:** No, we’ve never had him on the show. We should get him on the show.

**Craig:** Oh, good lord. Let’s fix that. He’s wonderful and so smart and so deserving. Also, there’s a nice thing about certainty going into these awards shows, where you don’t really have to worry. I didn’t write speeches, for instance. You go and enjoy that, and it’s actually quite nice. I have a few friends there that are also up for other awards. Quinta Brunson, who we love, won an Emmy, which was wonderful to see. You do get to see a lot of people that you’ve come to like and enjoy.

I made a shorter night of all those things, just because the strikes had that weird impact of jamming four awards things into the course of 10 days. Oh, god, man, I walked out of one of those things. I’m like, “This thing was 4 hours long, and I feel more tired than I do shooting for 12 hours.” I didn’t do anything. I just sat there. It’s oddly exhausting.

**John:** Now, everything has got jammed up, tied together, but the alternative is it gets dragged out over the course of weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks, which wouldn’t have been great either.

**Craig:** That would be worse. It was a way, at least, for people to go. Everybody’s schedules, once the strikes ended, everybody accelerated into work. Maybe not so much the actors, because there’s a bit of a lag time for them, but certainly writers and producers are working on things.

There will be awards shows coming up. We were very nicely nominated for the aforementioned PGA award. Going to be difficult for me to get down there and lose again, because I’m going to be shooting. I will have to lose in absentia. It was good to get it all done in this crazy pressure cooker 10 days, because it was Golden Globes, and then it was AFI, and then it was Critics Choice, and then it was Emmys, all boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, and the Oscars are right around the corner.

**John:** Yeah, crazy. Last bit of follow-up is another Arlo Finch. Karen Finch wrote in and said, “Would you believe my dog is Arlo Finch? He’s nine, so technically, I named him first.” This dog is gorgeous.

**Craig:** Look at this little boy.

**John:** Oh my god, such a good dog.

**Craig:** What a cutie. He’s got his little toy.

**John:** His toy.

**Craig:** It’s so funny. My younger dog, Bonnie, she loves toys. But my older dog, Cookie, no interest in toys. Bonnie, when you come home, she sees you, and then she immediately runs away from you, gets a toy, and runs and brings it over to you, like, look, I have a toy. It always looks like this, just ripped up and gummy and dirty. Aw, look at this little boy, Arlo Finch.

**John:** It makes sense. Karen Finch, obviously her last name was already Finch. Arlo does feel like one of those names that probably starts in dogs and then goes to kids. Basically, it’s a fun name for an animal, and then you hear that name a lot and you start applying it to kids. It makes sense. Cooper was probably the same situation. I know there are a lot of Cooper dogs, and then you started having Cooper kids.

**Craig:** Cooper kids. Maybe Craig. It’s possible. Used to be a Scottish dog name. Craig!

**John:** You know that dog names tend to be two syllables, so you can yell out for them and they come back. Craig doesn’t work well as a dog name. Arlo does.

**Craig:** There’s Spike, Butch. I’m always thinking of the cartoon dogs. You’re right. Fido. Who names their dog Fido anymore?

**John:** It’s a good name though.

**Craig:** It’s a good one.

**John:** Craig, a thing we’ve talked about a lot on the podcast, probably from the very start, is that the screenplay format is well established. We’ve been used to it since the days of Casablanca. It’s 12-point Courier. The margins are a certain place. The dialog works a certain way. Character names are above stuff. As the Oscar nominations came out, we always try to make sure that we have all of the Oscar-nominated screenplays available on Weekend Read. That’s Drew’s responsibility, so Drew has been a hero to getting this all to make sure they look fantastic in Weekend Read.

We’ve got all of them except for one, which is Anatomy of a Fall, which is a fantastic script, a fantastic movie. It is not going to be possible to format that in Weekend Read, because it is bizarre. We’ll put a link in the show notes to how it looks. But I also pulled out some screenshots here.

It looks to be maybe in Times Roman, I’m guessing. It’s some sort of serif font. There are scene headers. It’s “8 – Chalet, Extérieur,” “Interior plus exterior/day.” We see that kind of stuff. It’s all in French, but you can totally tell what’s happening there. There are letters for A in parentheses, talking through the scene description. It is in the present tense, like the way we’d expect this to be. There are photos. There are photos of what the chalet looks like. Dialog is blocked over to the right in a way, with the character name above it but not centered. It’s just different. Craig, how are you feeling as you look at this?

**Craig:** I love it. I love this. This is going to start happening more and more. For screenplays that are speculative – and I don’t mean just spec screenplays that people are writing without money being paid; I mean even things in development, that are not necessarily automatically going to be produced – perhaps this would be too much or unnecessary.

But if you are writing for production, what I love about this is how many questions it answers for people, because, look, I’m in prep right now. People that work on movies, to produce the movies, all the department heads, they don’t read these scripts the way people that are gatekeeping at festivals or development executives read them. They’re reading them as instruction sets for what they’re supposed to do. The more information they can have, the clearer it becomes, and the fewer questions the filmmakers have to answer, because answering questions becomes the bane of your existence in prep. You have to do it. That’s sort of the point. But the fewer questions that are floating out there, the happier your day is.

This is brilliant looking at this. It answers so many things. It makes so many things clear. You’re going to end up drawing these things anyway. You’re going to end up taking photos of these things anyway. For a movie like Anatomy of a Fall, which is so specific about a space and what occurred in the space and the relative position of the window to the attic to the downstairs to the outside, this makes complete sense. It’s very easy to read. I have no problem with this whatsoever. None.

**John:** It does French things too, where they tend not to put extra blank lines between paragraphs, which is something I would choose to do. Looking on page 15, for example, there’s a sketch of how this attic space works and which windows open and which ones don’t. Just super helpful for anyone reading the script to get a sense of what the actual plan is here. We’ll try to get Justine on the podcast to talk through this, because I’m really curious-

**Craig:** It’s gorgeous.

**John:** … how early in the process did she know this was the house, this is how it’s all going to work. The other thing, which we always talk about, are alt lines and how you handle that. For this tidbit here, Sandra, in parentheses, “taking time to reflect or think about it,” she answers, “Not always, but often, yes, because of the wood dust.” And then, in parentheses beneath it, “Alt: often, yes, because of the wood dust. Alt: I think so, yes, because of the wood dust.” Here, those alts are there, already in the script there as a plan. Great. It feels very useful for production to know this is the situation, this is what we’re getting into, this is how we’re going to be doing it.

**Craig:** It’s a perfectly good thing to do. At some point, very early on, when you enter production, or let’s say you’ve been green-lit and now you’re in prep, as a writer you are confronted with how unromantic everyone is about creating it. You know the parable of the blind men and the elephant. The makeup people see makeup. The hair people see hair. The clothing people see clothing. The production designer sees spaces, materials, construction. They aren’t necessarily plugged into your grand, romantic, artistic dream. They’re just trying to make it happen. It’s so practical. This kind of work is incredibly practical, including listing the alts, because then your actors are aware. You can have that discussion. You can decide on the day, “Do we want that other line? Which of these do you prefer?” It’s all very practical.

I’m in complete support of it. I think the screenplay format that we use is a perfectly fine format for people to read and decide, “Would I want to invest in this? Would I want to see this happen?” It is not a useful document for, “How do we make this happen?” It’s just not. This is very clever, very well done.

**John:** Also, if we do get her on the show, I want to talk about decisions of when to be in French, when to be in English, because if you’re reading this document, you basically have to be able to speak both French and English to parse it and understand what’s happening there. It’s a French script with just really mostly English dialog in it. It’s just such a fascinating hybrid form.

**Craig:** Yeah, which reflects the reality of the film, where it’s taking place in France, and yet one character is often answering questions that are posed in French in English.

**John:** It’s delightful. Here’s the other thing is, we talked about the Tiffany Problem, like it’s realistic, but would you believe it. As an American, you’re watching these courtroom sequences, you’re like, “Wait, there’s no possible way you’re allowed to do that.” Of course, but no, it’s France, and you can do things that way. The way that the prosecutor behaves, it’s like, “How is that possible? Is she always on the witness stand, and she can just stand up and talk whenever?” It’s wild.

**Craig:** It is wild. I think a lot of people have that natural, like, “Did they just invent this to make the courtrooms seem more interesting?” The answer is no. Then following that, there was quite a discourse of, “What is wrong with France?” The way they conduct a trial just feels bad. It feels bad.

**John:** It feels incredibly unfair to the defendant.

**Craig:** It really does. In a country where there is a history of just chopping people’s heads off for political expressions, it does seem a little like, oh, I don’t like this feeling. But then we know in, for instance, the case in Italy with Amanda Knox, the way other countries investigate, prosecute, pursue, charge, and judge is not like we do. It’s interesting.

**John:** I would love to hear from international listeners, because they must see so much of the American courtroom process, because it’s in all our movies, it’s in all of our TV shows. How much does that color their expectation about how stuff should work in their own legal systems? They must have some expectation it’s going to work similarly, and it clearly doesn’t.

**Craig:** The other interesting thing about the constant presentation of the American justice system is that typically, for the purposes of drama, the stories that we tell are of falsely accused people or people who are guilty in the letter of the law but not in the spirit of the law. That’s what’s exciting to us. But there are times where we do tell stories of people who are guilty. The question is are they guilty or not.

The aforementioned Jack Thorne wrote a terrific miniseries that was centered around an actor who was accused of sexually assaulting people. It became a courtroom drama where you were rooting for guilt. That’s an interesting concept we don’t often see. But even though a lot of American lawyers… If we had Ken White on, for instance, he would run down how inaccurate and stupid American courtroom dramas are. It does at least give you a sense of our process and form, which is way more rigorous than apparently France, which is like, this is a free-for-all. This is kind of exciting though.

**John:** For our main topic, I want to talk a little bit about fandom and the dynamics of fandom. The jumping-off point was a blog post I read, which turned out was all from 2015, so it’s a little dated there. But I really liked how he laid out how subcultures become fandoms become these bigger things and tend to ultimately implode or get warped. This is a post by David Chapman. We’ll put a link in the show notes to it. He talks through that generally the dynamic you see is that there is a scene where you have some creators who are doing a new thing. It could be a musical new thing. It could be an artistic new thing. Some sort of cultural product that they’re making which feels new. That then attracts fanatics, who are people who are not making the things themselves, but are so into it and want to follow it and follow those creators. Both these creators and the fandoms are geeks, in the sense that they are deeply, deeply into it. This is more than just a weird hobby. It’s becoming an actual subculture.

Once that gets up to a certain critical mass, you have what he calls MOPs, members of the public, who are attracted to it and start to enjoy it, but they’re not on the inside. They get kind of geeky about it, but they’re not actual hardcore fans. They’re like tourists coming to the thing. Sometimes there’s in-grouping and out-grouping, where these new people you label as posers, because they’re not true believers, they’re not really part of it.

But what I found so fascinating is he also charts it through to generally you get a place where there are sociopaths who become attracted to this movement, this thing that’s more than a scene. It’s become a subculture. They adopt some aspects of it, and ultimately the drive either is for money or to do some other kind of nefarious purpose.

I thought it was just an interesting dynamic. It’s very easy to chart this to the rise of the hippie movement. It feels accurate to a lot of the ways we see things begin, blossom, grow, and fall apart.

**Craig:** This is an interesting dissection of the phenomenon of phenomena and how things catch fire and become a social exercise. There are certain presumptions baked into this that I think are worth questioning.

**John:** Please.

**Craig:** For instance, is it better to be a fanatic than to be a casual enjoyer? One of the things I think about as a person that does create things is what do I want my audience to be. If I had a wish, how would I want them to be reacting and interacting with the work I make.

I don’t think I have a great desire for people to be fanatics, per se. What I want is for people to enjoy. I want them to take from it what I intended to give. The fandom itself is separate from what I want. I just want people to watch it and feel things that I hope they feel and think about things that I want them to consider. I am not doing this so that people tattoo it on themselves or go to every show and get signatures and autographs and things like that, but people do. I understand that, because I’ve tattooed myself, so I get that.

I do question the premise that one kind of fandom, there’s a pure, truer fandom than another. I wonder if most creators are really just trying to appeal to what this author refers to as MOPs, members of the public.

**John:** I think that’s a great distinction. Also, maybe we can talk about it both in the terms of the things we write and make, so Last of Us for you, or Chernobyl, versus what we’re doing right now, which is that we have fans of Scriptnotes, who are listening to this podcast that we’re making, and to what degree do we feel like we need to engage with that community that forms around, because we made a thing that the community is around it, or that we want to distance ourselves or not really think about and worry about that.

The answer is different for different things. I think with Scriptnotes, we do engage our community to a pretty significant degree, not a degree to which a YouTuber or a Vine star back in the day might’ve. But we’re answering their questions. We’re meeting them at live shows. Some of them are paying us $5 a month. There is a sense that we are attempting to service that community to some degree by also doing a thing that we want to do, which is different than what you’re doing with Last of Us, which is you’re trying to make the thing, and you recognize that there is a role to which you need to go out and promote the thing and go to Brazil to do a fan launch of the thing, and yet you’re still trying to maintain some boundaries around your exposure to that community.

**Craig:** Because the goal ultimately is the point. The goal of making things is hopefully for people to see it and appreciate it. When I say people, I mean as many as possible. I don’t think anyone makes a show or writes a book or writes a song so that very few people will listen to it.

There’s this thing that happens when something is new – this author refers to it as the new thing – where the first people to appreciate it feel a kind of ownership. They feel special, because they fought their way to it. They found it when it wasn’t promoted to them, when no one told them about it. They had a pure experience with it. Then other people don’t, in their minds. Other people are promoted to. Their friends tell them.

In reality, I’m not sure it matters, because let’s say I’ve never heard of a thing. I remember somebody… I think it was Shannon Woodward. Yeah, it was Shannon. I was having lunch with her or something. She’s like, “Have you seen Stranger Things?” I said, “No,” because you know me. I don’t watch stuff. She’s like, “There’s this girl who plays this little girl who’s just a phenomenal… She’s just doing this stuff that’s just mind-blowing to me as an actor.” I was like, “That’s a pretty good recommendation. I’ll check it out.” Then I watched it, and I was like, “Wow. Millie Bobby Brown is really good at this. The Duffer brothers are really good at this. This is great.” Is my appreciation less valuable because I was told, as opposed to somebody who’s just flipping through the 4,000 shows on Netflix, lands on something, and goes, “Yes, this. I have unearthed it.” I don’t know.

**John:** I think we often have the experience of being champions of a thing that we want other people to see. Our One Cool Things are like, “Hey, take a look at this thing that you may not have otherwise been aware of.” That signaling thing is important. We’re using some of our cache and our authority, to whatever degree we have it, to say this is a thing that is worth your attention. We sometimes seek out people who can recommend good things to us. A lot of the blogs I follow are basically like, I like that person’s taste, and so if they are recommending something to me, I will click through that link, because they don’t steer me wrong, which is absolutely great and true.

I think what’s different though is that the difference between a recommendation and something that becomes a fandom is a fandom requires some kind of organization. Interesting that a lot of times, fandom, it is self-organizing. It’s not the creator who’s going out there and creating that community and organizing that community. They’re just making their thing. That community is creating its own rules and its own structure around it. The relationship between that fan organization and that creator can be great. It can be toxic. It can be problematic. That’s a real challenge.

**Craig:** Yeah. What this guy is describing is fandom protecting itself, which actually has nothing to do with the art. It’s only about the community that’s built around the art, which I understand. When you find a community, it’s important to you. As we all know, Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, belonging is the most important of the non-fundamental needs like food, shelter. You find belonging, especially if you are someone who struggles with belonging. Let’s say you’re on the spectrum. You’re on the autism spectrum. It’s hard for you to find belonging in the real-world space, but you connect with other people who have a similar struggle, over your shared joy of this new thing. You get really deep into it. Then your community is now something different and important from the art itself.

What this is talking about is how to protect that, because what happens as things become more popular is a lot of people enter the community that maybe you don’t think have the same depth of connection to the work that you do, or some people – and in this article they’re described just fully on as sociopaths – enter the community for purely exploitative reasons, to sell things, to get attention for themselves. And then they can, quote unquote, ruin the culture, the subculture.

The truth is all of this analysis does matter to a lot of people, because most people are fans, not creators. But for those of us who make things, I think it’s important to appreciate fans, to appreciate early fans, rabid fans, passionate fans, and the community they build up, while also maintaining that what we do is meant for anyone who enjoys it. Anyone. There is nothing exclusive about what we do. There is, however, apparently something exclusive about the people that begin that first community.

**John:** This is a thing I was holding back for maybe a future How Would This Be a Movie, but I think it’s actually good to bring up right now. There’s an article by Sarah Viren which ran in the New York Times this past week. It’s looking at this woman whose sister was murdered when she was a kid. Fifty years have passed. It’s a cold case. But this woman said, “Listen, I feel a calling from God. I need to figure out who killed my sister in this brutal way 50 years ago.” She goes to a true-crime con thing and meets these podcasters who had done similar kinds of things, and starts working with them about, “How are we going to try to solve this? How are we going to group-source this?” The podcasters have a plan. They’re going to build up a Facebook group. They’re going to get people involved in working through this. They start putting together episodes. They’re making some progress. The police agree to reopen the case. Things are proceeding.

But ultimately, this woman starts to have frustrations with these podcasters, feeling like they violated some confidences that she had shared with them, and doesn’t go on this one Zoom. And essentially, this whole community turns against her, the actual person who is the instigator of all this, the one whose sister actually died. I found that to be fascinating too, because who’s the creator in this situation? Is it the podcasters who did organize this group, or is it her? And who is the victim in this situation?

True crime fandom is a thing. In this case, it’s a community that was formed around this one murder, and the only thing they have in common is that there’s a curiosity about this, but they’re not making the thing. They’re just contributing. The sense of online communities in particular can be incredibly toxic, because you’re not doing it to someone’s face.

**Craig:** It’s also a question of what is it that you are obsessed with. Here’s a woman who’s obsessed with who killed her sister. That is a fact, and that is a crime. That’s somebody that she loved and cared for. The fandom is obsessed with a podcast, so now they are interested in what is an act of creation. It’s a show.

If you care mostly about the show, I always think of this as the Skyler problem. Skyler White on Breaking Bad. Anna Gunn is an incredible actor and portrayed Walter White’s wife beautifully and had to carry the burden of a very difficult part. There was this thing where the Breaking Bad fandom just started to hate her, hate both Anna Gunn and Skyler White. Why? Because Skyler’s character was in direct opposite to Walter and his stuff. If she finds out what he is doing, she’s going to be angry and make him stop. When she does find out what he’s doing, she is upset. She becomes sort of a co-conspirator, and then eventually just no more. But her character was a threat to the existence of the show. If Skyler wins, Walter White stops making meth, and there’s no more show. What the audience cared about was that the show would keep going, and so they started to hate a character. I find that fascinating.

I think in this case, I could definitely see where if the woman whose sister was a victim became uncomfortable with the show and was threatening the continuation of the show, the community gets angry at her, because they don’t care about her and her justice. They care about the show. And that is where fandom gets a little squiggly, when you’re dealing with stuff that isn’t purely fictional, but rather a presentation of truth.

**John:** Absolutely. In our bonus segment for premium members, I want to continue this conversation and talk about different fandoms and the degree to which it feels like the creators have some control over that and the degree to which the creators are being held captive to their fandoms, which I think is a challenging situation, which happens far too often. Let’s answer some listener questions. Drew, what you got for us?

**Drew:** Brent writes, “My understanding is that if a stage musical is adapted into a film, the songwriter retains copyright, and the songs are licensed to the film. But how does ownership and authorship work with original songs written for an original musical film? Are they considered separate from the screenplay? Is the lyricist considered a co-writer of the script by the WGA? And how is that songwriter typically contracted?

**John:** Here’s a question I could actually answer, because I have-

**Craig:** Yay.

**John:** … much experience with this. First, Brett’s assumption that a stage musical adapted into a film, yes, and so that the lyricist composer of the original Broadway or stage production, they own the copyright on those songs, and so those are licensed as part of the package to make the movie. The Mean Girls movie, Jeff Richmond, who wrote the songs for that – and I don’t remember who the lyricist was – those songs were licensed for the movie, pretty straightforward.

When you write an original song for a movie, and so if you’re Billie Eilish to do for Barbie, they come to you and they say, “Hey, would you write this song for this movie?” You write it. It’s phenomenal. There’s a separate contract for that. It is licensed to be in the movie. It’s relatively clean. It’s similar to how it would’ve worked the other way around, like if the song had previously existed.

What gets to be complicated is when you are writing stuff that is fundamentally integrated into the movie. For Corpse Bride or for Frankenweenie and for Big Fish, I wrote songs into the script that became part of the movie. Those, I was not contracted separately. They were just part of the script. They were folded into my writing fee for writing the movie. But those songs, which also Danny Elfman then did the music for, also exist separately, and so I am paid separately for those, for royalties and for all the other music-y things that songwriters get paid for. I get separate checks for each of those things. When it plays in Norway, I get 13 cents, and those checks accumulate separately, by different accounting systems, so ASCAP or BMI.

**Craig:** Yep, I’ve done the same. That’s how it works. You do retain authorship of those songs. I have the distinct honor of receiving checks from ASCAP every now and then for a song called Douchebag of the Year in Superhero Movie, which how many people can boast that, John? Very few.

**John:** It’s nice.

**Craig:** I wrote a rap song for Scary Movie 3, and I get royalties for writing the lyrics. Your outline is exactly correct. Authorship of lyrics and authorship of music will always generate royalties through ASCAP and BMI, and not only if they’re played just on their own, but also if they’re played in the movie. It is an interesting hybrid there, but generally speaking, you do retain more rights and more financial interest with songs than you do with, say, a work for hire as a script, because in that case, you’re really relying on the WGA formula for residuals and nothing else.

**John:** One other question embedded in here. Is the lyricist considered a co-writer of the script by the WGA?

**Craig:** No.

**John:** Generally, no. It’s a thing we’ve talked about with Rachel Bloom a couple times is that writing the songs for things like Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, she’s often writing actual story material. She’s writing everything that happens in the song. It’s like she’s not just writing dialog, but she’s writing a whole sequence. You could imagine there could be scenarios in which the songs are so much of what the actual story is that it crosses into situations where it really should be considered literary material that goes into WGA arbitrations. Maybe that’s happened in the past, but classically, no, it’s not considered literary material in that same way.

**Craig:** Generally, no. If you’re dealing with something that is a recitative, where everything is sung, for instance, Les Mis, then certainly, I think the Writers Guild has the ability, through its pre-arbitration structure and participating writer investigations, to say, “Hey, look, even though this is in a lyric format, it is dialog. It is screenplay material. It is literary material.” We have the ability to be flexible on that front and to pose the questions and ask them. It’s another reason why the WGA’s sole authority is important, because it can, as an institution, allow for some flexibility and exclusions and exceptions. There are ways for it to actually account for unique properties like that.

**John:** Next question.

**Drew:** Kaylan in Alaska writes, “Are there best practices to follow as to not break up scenes or dialog in an annoying way? I specifically mean when a scene begins at the bottom of a page, and only one line of scene description fits, or when dialog gets broken between two pages in a way that feels like it might break up the reading of the line. My brain really wants that soothing feeling of a scene starting at the top of a page.”

**Craig:** I’ll tell you what my brain wants, Kaylan. My brain is trying to anagram and Kaylan and Alaska together. There’s so many overlapping letters. I love it. Best practices are what you feel good with, what makes you happy. Most people reading, my opinion, don’t care. For me as a writer, I care so much. I don’t like splitting up dialog across pages. If I can mitigate that, I do, because, I don’t know, I don’t like it. It just feels bad. If you can avoid ending a scene with a single line of action that’s on the subsequent page and then start a new scene, yeah, do it. Avoid it. It’s actually not that hard to do. As long as you don’t get into a situation where you’re actually hurting things to make it look better on the page, you’re fine. My brain wants that soothing feeling as well, and there’s nothing wrong with a little self-soothing there as far as I’m concerned.

**John:** Here’s one situation where screenwriting software, from Final Draft to Fade In to Highland, all the legitimate applications, are going to be doing some of this work for you. What they will all do is they will not let you start a scene at the very bottom of a page. They’ll push that scene header to the next page. If there’s a single line on the next page, they’ll pull stuff across, so that you don’t have a little orphan or a widow there happening. Some of that stuff happens automatically.

What Craig is describing is generally the last looks before you’re printing or turning in a script to somebody, is just going through it one last time and seeing are there any really weird breaks that I want to fix here, and seeing if there’s way you could pull stuff, push it down or pull it across, so you don’t get those weirdos there. I used to be much more of a freak about it. I just don’t let it stress me out too much. I will look for situations where that’s actually confusing because it broke that way.

The other thing you don’t appreciate until you actually have to build the software to do it, most of these apps will also break at the sentence, rather than breaking at the end of the line. If dialog has to break across a page, they will create the break, add a period, rather than just having the line taper off, which is just helpful. It just makes it much easier to read.

**Craig:** Agreed.

**Drew:** Not Too Happy writes, “I wrote a script in 2014 that became my calling card for many years. It performed well on The Black List site, found producers, went to all the agencies, got offered to a bunch of different actresses and directors, and spent years almost getting made. Then a few weeks ago, I saw a Deadline announcement that a very famous actor is set to produce and star in a movie with the exact same plot. Normally, that would be an oh well, what are you going to do? But in this case, that actor was sent my script in 2015, along with an official offer of a million dollars to play the lead. This all went through their reps at the time, from reputable producers on my end, above board, blah blah blah. Now, I’m not accusing anyone of knowingly stealing anything, but I can’t help but feeling like I’m being ripped off. My manager offered a, ‘That sucks,’ and my lawyer advises a wait-and-see approach. I’d rather not. Do I have any recourse, and what would you do?”

**John:** Not Too Happy provided some context here which Craig and I can take a look at, but we’re not going to discuss on the show.

**Craig:** It is quite the context. It is certainly relevant. Not Too Happy, I get why you’re not too happy. Your manager actually here is giving you the proper answer, which is that sucks. Your lawyer advising a wait-and-see approach, that’s the lawyer’s version of, “We’re not doing anything.” Here’s why.

Unfortunately – and we’ve talked about this quite a few times on the show – premises, plots, these are not really intellectual property. They fall under the general heading of ideas. Let’s say I write a script, and it’s about two guys who discover that they’ve grown up separately, but actually, turns out that they’re brothers, and in fact, they’re weirdly twins. They’re fraternal twins. But one of them is really short, and one of them is tall and super strong. They don’t look anything alike. Okay. That’s Twins. That’s cool. What I just described, anyone can write a movie like that.

**John:** [Crosstalk 00:58:50].

**Craig:** I could sit down, I could write another movie today with a different title that is the exact same plot, and it is not legally actionable, because unless you get into unique expression in fixed form, there’s no infringement there. If you get a copy of the script that this star is going to be making, and they have taken chunks of your action description or runs of dialog that are non-generic, okay, that’s just straight up copyright infringement. They won’t.

**John:** They won’t.

**Craig:** Unfortunately, this is one of those things where we can’t even say that the person went, “Oh, you know what? I love this idea, but I just don’t like the script. Can somebody else do this idea?” Maybe that’s what happened, which by the way, that’s not stealing either. Is it ethical? No. But is it criminal? No. You can’t steal something that isn’t property. And unfortunately, concepts and ideas and general plot lines, not property.

**John:** We don’t know the backstory on how this actor came to do this project, which is apparently moving forward. My hunch though is someone else had basically the same idea and wrote it up, and the actor said, “Oh yeah, I’ve always wanted to do something that’s in that space,” and said yes to that thing. I suspect that the second writer really did come up with that idea on their own, because it’s a good idea, but it’s also an idea that a lot of people could have, honestly. They wrote their own thing. This star attached themselves to it. If you cannot show that there is a connection between that second writer having exposure to your script and having decided, “I’m going to do this thing that’s basically the same premise,” there’s no case to be made here.

Your manager and your lawyer are saying the right thing. The lawyer saying, “Let’s wait and see,” is also saying you don’t know this thing’s ever even going to happen. If this thing actually goes in production and it clearly looks like there is an infringement case to be made here, that’s the time when she would raise her hand and do something.

**Craig:** There almost certainly won’t be. Let’s also dig in a little bit on Not Too Happy here. When you said, “That actor,” the one that’s now said to produce and star in the movie, “was sent my script in 2015,” so almost a decade ago, “along with an official offer of a million dollars to play the lead,” now, that sounds impressive. But the fact is, actors of a certain level are constantly getting stuff submitted with an official offer of whatever their quote is, or maybe their quote is less than that. They might not have even read it.

Listen. I get offered things where someone says, “Here’s something. We’ve bought a book, and we want you to write this,” and blah blah blah. I’m like, “No, I’m not interested.” I just tell my agent, “It doesn’t sound for me. No, thank you.” Then four years later, someone that I’m really fascinated by starts talking to me about that book or a different book on the same topic, and now suddenly I am interested, because there’s just a different context to it. Did I do something wrong? No. I changed my mind, or I wasn’t in the same place, or something was more attractive to me about this other version of it.

The point being, what I think you need to do is let yourself off the hook of feeling like you’ve been screwed, because that’s a terrible feeling to walk around with. I don’t think you’ve been legally screwed. If you were somewhat ethically screwed with, let’s look at the bright side. You had an idea that other people thought was worth making. Now, what you need to do for the next step, Not Too Happy, is to write a script of an idea that people like, that is so good they want to make that script. That’s ultimately what separates the steadily working writers from folks who are trying to be steadily working writers. Good idea and undeniable execution, as opposed to good idea, decent execution.

It’s not fun to hear. By the way, your script may have been amazing. But in this case, it sounds like, by your own admission, it went to all the agencies, lots of different actresses and directors, and it just ultimately wasn’t compelling in and of itself to get that next level going.

As John says, in this case, I’m looking at this article that talks about this. There are articles like this every five minutes. “So-and-so is attached to produce some blah da blah such and such,” and then it never happens. Who knows?

**John:** Who knows? Let’s try one more question, Drew. Let’s do Will here.

**Drew:** Will writes, “Before Christmas, I reached out to the representation of a character actor I had in mind for my script. Today they got back to me asking about financing. How do I answer them saying I don’t have financing without scaring them off?”

**John:** That’s going to be the first question you’re going to get back. It’s good we bring this up, because any time you’re reaching out to a specific actor, who’d be the character actor who’s exactly perfect for this, the reps are doing their job. They’re saying, “Okay, is there any money here?” The answer is, “There’s no money here. These are the producers that I want to approach. This is my plan going forward.”

**Craig:** Yeah. Look. Character actors really should be asking about this. Basically, what the reps are saying is, are you offering us a job, or are you asking us to attach a name? Will, you’re referring to an independent film. There’s a long, glorious tradition of independent films trying to get financing using the actor’s name to help them get financing. The financing is like, “Do you have an actor attached?” Everybody’s basically in a catch-22.

But attaching yourself to a script ultimately isn’t much of a commitment. No actor’s going to say, “Yes, I’m attaching myself to your unfinanced project, and also I’m clearing the decks for these months, and I will take no other jobs for those months.” That’s not a thing.

How do I answer them? Honestly. You answer them honestly. You say, “We are looking for financing. We honestly feel that we will have a much better chance of getting financing if we can say that this actor is attached and happy to play this part, should all of the other things that need to happen line up, like schedule, payment, etc.” If they’re like, “Yeah, no, we don’t actually want to attach ourselves to this without financing,” what you just heard is “no.” And that’s just life.

**John:** Yeah. Is there a future situation where somehow you’re able to find financing, and you come back to that actor, and suddenly they’re interested? Yes, that could happen too. Don’t bank on it, but that’s possible too. You’ve burned nothing to do this. Being honest is the right approach.

Whoever the reps are for this character actor, this is a chance for them to be more in a lead role. That’s exciting for them. There may be ways that you can spin this as helpful. They may also know people who are, relationships that that actor has with producers or something. There may be some way that it could be helpful. So be honest and open to what they’re saying next.

**Craig:** These reps, we don’t know, they may have been yelled at by their client two weeks earlier, saying, “Stop sending me stuff that isn’t financed and isn’t, quote unquote, ‘real.'” Because here’s the thing. They gotta read all this stuff. They gotta read all of it. They gotta get excited by it. And then they do, and someone’s like, “Great. We actually have no money. We’ll talk to you in a year.” Then they’re like, “Why did I go through all that?”

**John:** The same thing happens for writers, of course, is that you get approached, like, “There’s this book,” blah blah blah. It’s like, that’s fantastic. Some cases I’m willing to engage, and I’ll at least try to set this up someplace. Other places, no. If there’s actually a home for this, then I’ll talk about this, but I’m not going to spend three months of my life trying to get this thing set up.

**Craig:** Or, god forbid, help you get the rights, by saying, “I’ll adapt it.” Hell no.

**John:** Nope.

**Craig:** Get your own rights. Otherwise, what do I need you for? Do you know what I mean? I’ll just go get the rights then.

**John:** Yoink. Cool. It’s time for One Cool Things. My One Cool Thing is a book that I read over the Christmas holidays. For whatever reason, I plow through books during the holidays. I had three this time. One of them I really enjoyed was Going Zero by Anthony McCarten.

So the premise of this is – it’s fiction – there is a joint program between the CIA and a Facebook kind of organization. What they’re trying to do is to be able to track people who fall off the grid, who disappear, and to see how quickly we can find those people, prevent terrorist attacks and other nefarious things. To test this system, they are going to recruit, I believe it’s 10 people, and basically say, “We’re going to tell you one day that you have to go zero. You have to disappear, fall off the grid. If you can stay hidden for 30 days, we’ll give you $3 million.” It’s a good premise. The story’s alternating between the people who are trying to hide and the people who are looking for them. So that’s that cat-and-mouse game.

**Craig:** That’s cool.

**John:** Naturally, there are complications that ensue. I read this as a pure, clean, looking for a good read, and of course, as a person who makes film and television, I’m like, “I know how to adapt this.” But I deliberately did not look up the credits of the person who wrote the book until I was finished. I looked him up. Anthony McCarten is actually a very successful, very produced screenwriter, who I ended up emailing him, and he has his own plans for the book. So I’m excited to see what’s going to happen next to it. But if you are into a fun, breezy thriller to read, I recommend Going Zero by Anthony McCarten. If you read it now, then you can also see what becomes of it. It’s sort of a how would this become a property down the road.

**Craig:** Fantastic. Good recommendation. My One Cool Thing is full-on nepo baby.

**John:** This is your incredibly successful father who gave you your career. That’s what you’re talking about. You are the nepo baby.

**Craig:** Yeah, I’m the nepo baby. My father was an incredibly successful social studies teacher in the New York City public school system.

**John:** Without him, you would not have been able to find Chernobyl.

**Craig:** He taught American history, so actually, I didn’t even have that. No. I speak of my youngest child, Jessica Mazin, who is currently attending school at Berklee College of Music in Boston. John’s daughter is also there in school in Boston. She is a budding songwriter and has written some really good songs. She’s written stuff that actually got…

There’s a song she wrote – talk about fandom – that was based on a book series on Wattpad, which I know you’re familiar with, because you also have a daughter. Wattpad’s basically a fanfiction conglomeration site, as far as I can tell. There was this incredibly popular series there. She wrote a song based on characters and things from the series, and it actually got, I don’t know, millions of listens on Spotify. It’s pretty remarkable. She got paid money. She got over a million listens to that. In a nepo daddy way, I also had her sing a cover of a Depeche Mode song for The Last of Us. But I did so because I think she’s awesome.

**John:** She’s really good.

**Craig:** I actually think she’s great. It’s an interesting thing of creating a person who creates things, and then I listen to the things they’ve created, and it’s like this weird echo of creation. She’s written a song called The Devil. She wrote the lyrics and the music, and she performs it, and then her friend Henry Dearborn, who’s an also very talented young guy, produced it and helped add instrumentation and mix and all that. I think it’s really good.

**John:** Yeah, I agree. I listened to it.

**Craig:** That is a really good song. It’s super catchy. I think the lyrics are really intriguing. I’m making Jessica and her song The Devil my One Cool Thing. It is on Spotify. I think you’ll enjoy it. I actually think you’ll like it. It goes down easy, and it’s got a good chorus. She’s just very good. I actually think she’s really, really good.

**John:** We’ll start playing the song now. It’ll become our outro for this episode. One thing I think is so interesting about Spotify is there’s obviously so many criticisms with Spotify, but the fact that Jessica is on Spotify the same way that Beyonce and Taylor Swift are on Spotify, or Girl in Red, it equals things out in ways that are really fascinating and unprecedented, so that’s nice. The fact that people could discover her – my daughter discovers music all the time on Spotify – is exciting.

**Craig:** Yeah, it is. I’m very proud of her. I’m proud of how independent she is from me. She doesn’t do what I do. She doesn’t ask me for help. She doesn’t ask my opinion. What happens is it just appears, and then I listen to it like anyone else. I think maybe that’s what I’m most proud of is that she doesn’t give a sweet damn what I think. I like it. I love it, actually, honestly, anyway.

**John:** Cool. That is our show for this week. Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt.

**Craig:** Woo woo!

**John:** Edited by Matthew Chilelli.

**Craig:** Yeah!

**John:** Our outro this week is by Jessica Mazin. If you have an outro, you can send us a link to ask@johnaugust.com. Our list of outros is getting a little bit sparse, so we’d love some more outros coming in here. Ask@johnaugust.com is also where you can send questions, like the ones we answered today. You will find the show notes for this episode and all episodes at johnaugust.com. That’s also where you’ll find the transcripts, sign up for our weekly newsletter called Inneresting, which has lots of links to things about writing. We have T-shirts and hoodies, and they’re great. You’ll find them at Cotton Bureau. You can sign up to become a premium member at scriptnotes.net, where you get all the back-episodes and bonus segments, like the one we’re about to record on creators and fandom. Craig, thanks for a fun show.

**Craig:** Thank you, John.

[Bonus Segment]

**John:** All right, Craig. Continuing our conversation about fans and creators, I have a list here in the Workflowy of different kinds of fandoms. I want to think about what is the relationship between them and their creators and the people who own the underlying material behind this.

I’ll start with Formula One, because last year I went to my first Formula One race. I just didn’t realize what a giant community that is, just the money they mint doing that. It’s interesting, because I feel like with Formula One, they’d already had fans, but then the Netflix show really drew up a whole bunch of new fans, including my daughter, to it. Where’s the center of fandom for it? Is it the individual teams? Is it the organization that puts on the races? Is it the Netflix show? It feels like it’s one of those in-between things, and it’s hard to say who’s in control of it.

**Craig:** It’s a bit scary, actually, how fandom as a business can get larger than the core business. This satellite business that grows around it. It is remarkable. One thing that I think really big artists have become very good at is getting ahead of it. BTS, for instance, that group is also its own fandom industry. They got ahead of it. They control it. They run it. Yes, there are obviously a lot of independents that grow up around it, but they’ve created so much of it. It was baked in from the jump, whereas some of the boy bands that we remember from the ’90s, for instance, were just selling records and selling tour tickets and merch, which we used to call merchandise. Merch, it’s like IP. That was like backstage talk that was slightly cynical, and now it’s front stage talk for everyone.

The business now, I think, is such that creators are starting to get more of a handle on it. I would imagine Taylor Swift at some point woke up one day and said, “Why are other people making more money off of me than me?” Because that actually probably doesn’t feel great. It feels a little exploitative, and yet it’s all about the energy of people that are in love with what you do.

**John:** I’d be curious what Jessica’s relationship is like with her fans at this point, because she has enough people who are listening to her music, who are curious about her next thing that’s going to be happening, that they feel some investment in her. They’re rooting for her. They discovered her early on. Maybe Berklee School of Music is the perfect place for her to learn some of this. How should she be thinking about that? To what degree does she need to start thinking about her mailing list, how she’s communicating with the people who are her truest fans?

**Craig:** I think in a healthy way, like any young artist, she’s mostly concerned about getting better, about creating work, getting better, learning. She’s got some gigs now. Berklee’s amazing about how they facilitate this. She’s going to start getting paid to perform live. But she definitely does have the Generation Z TikTok conversation with people who like what she does.

I have a feeling that fandom is a hockey stick chart, where there’s a little bit, there’s a little bit, and then something happens, and then boom, it just explodes. Even in the article we were discussing where the guy was talking about the fanatics, the fanatics aren’t the first people in. There’s always other people that are in first, and then there’s that moment that happens where there’s a big upswing, and then it becomes a real thing. I think she’s got her head on in the right place. There are obviously a lot of people for whom the fandom is the point. Those people tend to head more off into the influencer zone as opposed to trying to create things.

Taylor Swift is a wonderful example of somebody that clearly was about creating art, and it became enormously popular, and now there is an industry. But she didn’t start for that. I’ve never read an interview with her or seen her talk and thought to myself, oh, this was all calculated. No, she’s just a really good artist that people love.

**John:** Yes. I will note Taylor Swift has her challenges with her community as well, like the Gaylor Swift, the people who are obsessed that she’s actually lesbian and that all these songs have coded meanings in them.

**Craig:** Gaylor Swift.

**John:** How does she both refute that without driving those people away in a way that makes them feel unseen and unheard? It’s so challenging, because she’s an artist trying to tell stories, and people, false stories, they’re going to derive their own meaning from them, which is exactly the point. And yet when there’s a community that is obsessed with picking everything apart to discover a secret, hidden meaning behind things, it’s tough.

**Craig:** It is. It would be fascinating to talk with her about this, although we never will, because she now exists on Mount Olympus. But when we start out as artists, we are looking for the outliers, the people who will love what we do, because most people are going to ignore new things. We’re looking for somebody – ideally somebody with some influence –to love what we do. That one special person, even if they’re just 1% of the people that have been listening, helped spread the word, and now lots of people listen. But then, once it gets really big – and Taylor Swift operates on a massive scale – then what you’re dealing with are outlier problems.

Let’s say 99.9% of your fans are healthy people who just love your music, which I think is probably the case for Taylor. That .1% is the problem. They’re the people who are driving an enormous amount of discourse online, who are agitated, aggressive, angry, possessive, parasocial. Those are also the people that are showing up at your house, trying to climb over the wall, sending you weird messages, stalking. The outlier becomes the problem. I think sometimes in our culture, we mistake the outlier discussion for the mainstream discussion when it’s not.

Gaylor Swift is a fascinating concept. I suspect the great majority of Taylor Swift fans are just enjoying the music and are not at that level of, “I need you to like who I want you to like,” which is just I think part of an outlier behavior.

**John:** One of the other books I read over the holidays was Taylor Lorenz’s book Extremely Online, which tracks creators and fandoms and the rise of internet creator culture. It goes back from vloggers and mommy bloggers and the rise and fall of those. But one of the most fascinating sections is on Vine, because Vine was never meant to be what Vine became. You had these young men, some women, but mostly young men, who became extremely famous for doing little Vines, but also just became famous for being famous, in the way that Paris Hilton’s famously famous for being famous. People need to figure out, how do we monetize that? How do we exploit that? They would have these mall tours where they’d put together these Vine stars to perform, kind of. There was teenage girls who were their fans. They really weren’t part of the community.

It was a strange fit, particularly because the platform that they were on, Vine, did not like them. It did not want them around. That tension between the space you’re in and what you’re trying to do can be a real factor as well. It’s a thing we see again and again with studios and their stars and filmmakers and the need to do press and publicity but also feel constrained by it. It’s tough.

**Craig:** It is. It is. It is an interesting concept, the notion of a platform that you intend the platform to be used one way, it ends up being used another way. OnlyFans comes to mind.

**John:** For sure.

**Craig:** I don’t know, but I assume that OnlyFans began as a thing of like, hey, this is where people can talk to their fans, because they’re songwriters or they’re visual artists or whatever it is, and this is a way for them to get paid for what they do by the people that love them. From what I understand, John…

**John:** That’s not really where it is right now. I think OnlyFans may have known that sex work was going to be part of it from the start. But there’s wholesome versions of that as well that are just not as successful.

**Craig:** OnlyFans I guess was uncomfortable enough with the fact that it had become a platform for sex work that they said no more sex on OnlyFans, and everyone went, then what the hell are you for? It’s like if McDonald’s was like, “We didn’t mean to sell chicken nuggets. We were hamburgers. No more chicken nuggets,” and everyone lost their minds. Then OnlyFans was like, “Okay, I guess this is what we are now.”

**John:** Credit card processing with anything involving sex work is also incredibly complicated. Let’s wind back to Star Trek. We think of Star Trek was designed to be a delightful show about space travel, wagon to the stars. It did sell toys. It had its own stuff that it was doing, its own merch. But fan culture around Star Trek became its own industry. Suddenly, there’s actors who appeared on one episode now being booked for fan conventions. It’s self-sustained in a way that was important and made it possible ultimately for the renaissance of Star Trek and for the movies and for everything else to have happened after the fact. It was necessary for those fans to exist, and yet they’ve always been in a bit of a strange relationship with the owners and creators of Star Trek.

**Craig:** Yeah. There was a pretty famous sketch on Saturday Night Live. William Shatner was the guest host. The sketch was him at a Star Trek convention where people are asking him questions, and he finally just broke down and told them all to get a life. This was very funny to the people in the audience there in the studio, whatever it is, 8A. But a lot of people in the fan community were upset. They were hurt.

Listen. A lot of people – and we’ve mentioned this before – who join these communities struggle to find other communities. Here was somebody basically making fun of them for that specific struggle. They weren’t just there as part of the Trekker community because of how much they love Star Trek. It’s because of also how much they loved and were loved by people who loved Star Trek, as opposed to everywhere else in their lives, where maybe they were being discounted or put down. For the objects, the center of the wheel to behave towards them the way that the jocks at high school behaved had to have been pretty hurtful.

There are certain genres that do tend to appeal more to people who do struggle with, we’ll call non-virtual communities. I think it’s important for people to be aware of that and to be kind, because I have another daughter, who’s on the autism spectrum, and we talk all the time about her special interests and the things that she’s super into and how she finds community with other people that love it, and it’s important to her.

**John:** A community that’s growing very quickly – I’d really be curious what the subculture’s like two or three years from now – is pickleball.

**Craig:** Pickleball.

**John:** The number of people who tried to recruit me to play pickleball is somewhat astonishing. It’s also interesting to watch the fights that are happening in communities about the conversion of normal tennis courts to pickleball courts and, of course, the noise that pickleball creates.

**Craig:** Fricking noise. Yeah, pickleball really came out of nowhere there. Wow. You’re absolutely right. Now, pickleball is an interesting one, because unlike most fandoms we discuss, which are driven by the young, pickleball is driven by the old. Old people – and I don’t say that with any stink on it, because I’m getting there, man. Let’s call them older people. Older people are tough. They’re organized. They have money. They know how systems work.

**John:** That’s the thing.

**Craig:** Fans of a new rap star who comes on the scene, fans of that rap star generally aren’t going to be also serving on city councils or know how hearings work, but the pickleball fans do. They’re lawyers. They’re doctors. They’re heads of the PTAs. Now it becomes interesting. Watch out for the pickleball people. They’ll get you.

**John:** It’s good stuff. The last thing I want to distinguish between is there’s fandom, and there’s also collectors. Watching what’s happening right now with Stanley cups. Have you been tracking that at all?

**Craig:** I sure have. I live in Canada now.

**John:** Just the obsession with these collectible cups. It’s great that you love them, but no one needs 30 of them. That’s the difference between, are you entering into it because you want to be part of a community that collects these novelty cups, or are you doing it because you see a market for it, and that sense of really what is the angle. Are you seeing this in a capitalist sense, like the crypto bros were? Crypto bros saw this as a way to make a bunch of money, but also they had that missionary zeal, like we’re going to convert the world over to this thing. We all know how Stanley cup collecting will end up. It’s going to end up with a bunch of these things in landfills.

**Craig:** This is the bust and boom of these things. When I was a kid in high school, my friends and I would go down to Point Pleasant in New Jersey, which is on the shore, and it had a big boardwalk. The boardwalk had rides and restaurants and lots of little stands that would sell things. Every summer, there was a stand that was selling the new hot ticket toy. It was different every summer. The rabidity was consistent. It was just the thing that people were obsessed with that changed.

When I was really young, my sister, like many young girls, was pulled into the Cabbage Patch doll craze. I have the distinct memory of being in a Toys R Us in Brooklyn, watching adults fighting, almost physically, as Toys R Us employees pulled out a large shipping box of Cabbage Patch dolls, because of the insanity of it.

Humans are not good at valuing things. We’re notoriously irrational about it. Forced scarcity or this belief that something is valuable will drive our behavior. I think Bill Maher once famously said if you put a velvet rope in front of a toxic waste dump in LA, people will start lining up. There’s just something wrong with our brains.

I will say – and I’m not boasting here, this is just dumb luck of my brain – I don’t understand collecting. I’ve never collected anything. I don’t see the point of it. It just seems like a pointless accruing. I don’t quite know what it means. But I do recognize I’m alone, or, not alone; I’m rare, I guess.

**John:** I have some cool vintage typewriters, but I have them because they’re individually cool. But I don’t know anything about them. I don’t know anything about the community. It’s not part of anything. I guess what I’m trying to distinguish between is there’s people who collect and enter into a community about those collections, and it does enter into a fandom situation, and then there’s people who are just there to make a buck and don’t actually care about it, which I guess does tie into the whole poser issue of fandom is who are the true believers and who are the follow-ons who are trying to exploit it. It is a good moment for me to remind everybody to buy your Scriptnotes T-shirts on Cotton Bureau, especially the limited editions, which will only be sold for periods of time, because-

**Craig:** So rare.

**John:** When those drop, sometimes it’s only 100 of them that were done.

**Craig:** When they drop. If you’re a real Scriptnotes fan, not a poser, if you’re real. The ultimate posers are the people that sell stuff. Those are the posers. Hasbro.

**John:** There were times out on the picket line where I’d see a Scriptnotes shirt that I’d never seen out in the wild. It’s like, “Oh my gosh, I need to photograph that, because that is a true fan who has that,” or has the Courier Prime shirt, which we only made for a short period of time.

**Craig:** Or maybe that was the brother of a true fan who stopped being a true fan and just left that T-shirt behind when they moved.

**John:** No, I don’t believe it.

**Craig:** I’m so much more cynical.

**John:** When I asked that person who was wearing that very distinct shirt, also, “How’d you get that so crisp?” he’s like, “Oh, I never put it in the dryer. I always hand-dry it.”

**Craig:** Wow. It gives me a little bit of anxiety.

**John:** It’s true fandom for me. Craig, I’ll always be a fan of yours.

**Craig:** Aw, John. I’m a fan of yours too. You know what? Let’s just do this podcast until one of us just drops dead on our desk.

**John:** That’s what we’ll do.

**Craig:** And hopefully during a podcast. It’ll make a great bonus segment.

**John:** You have to hear that thump.

**Craig:** Yeah, just a thump. And then like, “Oh, okay. That’s Scriptnotes for you.”

**John:** That’s why we turn the Zoom off, so you can’t see when one of us drops. You have to listen for it. Thanks, Drew.

**Drew:** Thanks, guys.

**John:** Thank you, Craig.

**Craig:** Thanks, guys.

**John:** Bye.

Links:

* [The Tiffany Problem](https://dmnes.wordpress.com/2020/08/05/the-tiffany-problem/)
* [‘Harry Potter’ TV Series Zeroes In On Premise As Selected Writers Pitch Their Ideas To Max](https://deadline.com/2024/01/harry-potter-tv-series-premise-writers-set-max-1235798159/)
* [WGGB Screenwriting Credits Agreement](https://writersguild.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/Screenwriting_credits_agreement.pdf)
* [Ig Nobel Prize – “Please stop, I’m Bored”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xAnVNXaa5oA)
* [Anatomy of a Fall – Screenplay](https://deadline.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/Anatomy-Of-A-Fall-Read-The-Screenplay.pdf)
* [Podcasters Took Up Her Sister’s Murder Investigation. Then They Turned on Her](https://www.nytimes.com/2023/12/05/magazine/murder-podcast-debbie-williamson.html) by Sarah Viren for the New York Times
* [Geeks, MOPs, and sociopaths in subculture evolution](https://meaningness.com/geeks-mops-sociopaths) by David Chapman
* [Going Zero by Anthony McCarten](https://www.harpercollins.com/products/going-zero-anthony-mccarten?variant=40641169686562)
* [The Devil by Jessica Mazin](https://open.spotify.com/track/6mgwrkmCQMfxRj810BOlvB?si=ed91e62ef4cc43e4) on Spotify
* [Get a Scriptnotes T-shirt!](https://cottonbureau.com/people/scriptnotes-podcast)
* [Check out the Inneresting Newsletter](https://inneresting.substack.com/)
* [Gift a Scriptnotes Subscription](https://scriptnotes.supportingcast.fm/gifts) or [treat yourself to a premium subscription!](https://scriptnotes.supportingcast.fm/)
* Craig Mazin on [Threads](https://www.threads.net/@clmazin) and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/clmazin/)
* John August on [Threads](https://www.threads.net/@johnaugust), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/johnaugust/?hl=en) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/johnaugust)
* [John on Mastodon](https://mastodon.art/@johnaugust)
* [Outro](http://johnaugust.com/2013/scriptnotes-the-outros) by Jessica Mazin ([send us yours!](http://johnaugust.com/2014/outros-needed))
* Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt and edited by [Matthew Chilelli](https://twitter.com/machelli).

Email us at ask@johnaugust.com

You can download the episode [here](http://traffic.libsyn.com/scriptnotes/628standardV2.mp3).

Scriptnotes, Episode 616: The One with Neil Gaiman, Transcript

November 15, 2023 Scriptnotes Transcript

The original post for this episode can be found here.

John August: Hey, this is John. Heads up that today’s episode has just a little bit of swearing in it.

Hello and welcome. My name is John August.

Craig Mazin: My name is Craig Mazin.

John: This is Episode 616 of Scriptnotes, a podcast about screenwriting and things that are interesting to screenwriters.

Today on the show, we welcome the prolific author of novels and comics including The Sandman, Stardust, American Gods, and Coraline. He’s also a writer and producer of film and television, serving as showrunner for the TV adaptation of his novel Good Omens. He has won countless awards for his work and is one of the creators of modern comics, has even played himself on The Simpsons. Welcome, Neil Gaiman.

Neil Gaiman: Thank you. It’s good to be here.

Craig: Neil Gaiman is on our show. I’m aflutter. We’ve been sort of chasing after this for years. I don’t mean chasing like Neil’s been like, “No, I don’t want to.” It’s just more that he’s a very busy person, but such a hero of mine. Normally, we talk to people that I’m either fully disdainful of, or they’re just contemporaries. You are different. You really are somebody I’ve looked up to as a writer for so long and has been very influential on me and how I think about writing and stories in particular. This is just such a delight. I promise I won’t do fanboy nonsense. This is the end of the fanboy nonsense, and we proceed.

Neil: Oh, good. But thank you. Thank you anyway, because it’s nice when you hear things like that.

Craig: It’s true. It’s all true.

John: We do want to talk about influences, because I think all writers are, to some degree, the sum of their influences. We want to get into what influenced you, and your feeling about how you’ve influenced other creators along the way. I want to talk about prose fiction versus comics versus screenwriting, mythology, adaptation, writing habits, and whatever else we get into.

In our Bonus Segment for Premium Members, let’s talk about the things we never got to write or the things we never will get to write, because I know I have a long list of things that I will never realistically in my lifetime get to, and how we feel about those projects that are always out there floating. Cool?

Craig: Yes, and very dangerous for Neil, because if he mentions anything, then I’m going to say, “Oh, no, no, you have to. You have to, Neil. You must. Please.” It’ll be very annoying. I plan to be as annoying as possible throughout this entire podcast.

John: Let’s get into it. Let’s talk about early Neil Gaiman, who was probably a reader before you were a writer. What was that relationship between what you were reading and what you were fascinated to write? What were those early books you were picking up?

Neil: I guess looking back on it for me, the most interesting thing is what I loved and responded to the most was fantasy. But because authors who I thought of as science fiction authors were the people who showed themself the most in introductions, and they were visible, people like Isaac Asimov… You’d buy an Isaac Asimov short story collection, and he’d talk you through what he was doing and what was happening when all of the stories were written. Harlan Ellison – and Harlan famously hated being described as a science fiction author, but in my head Harlan was a science fiction author – would write about the process of what he did. Samuel R. Delany, again.

I definitely thought that I would probably grow up to be a science fiction writer, because they were the only people telling me how it was done. They were the only people telling me that there was a craft to this thing. Actually, it was raining that day, and the editor said, “Could you do a story about this?” They couldn’t think of a story. But then they were talking to their wife, and their wife said, “But there was that thing you always talk about.” Then they went off, and they sent in a story, and they got this fabulous cover. It just felt like that was the only time I ever felt I could be part of this group.

Craig: Because in a way, it was unromanticized by those guys. You imagine Asimov or Heinlein in an office, smoking and drinking and clacking away at a typewriter, because there were deadlines and bills to pay. It seemed like a job. It seemed attainable. I know exactly what you mean, because I remember going through this phase as a kid, and how Asimov almost seemed half publisher, half writer in that regard. It’s really interesting to hear you say, “Oh, it’s doable. It’s a job.”

Neil: Because I didn’t read Lord of the Rings and go, “I want that job.” I looked at Lord of the Rings and thought, “This is a beautiful thing.” I could no more have aspired to really, in my heart, write Lord of the Rings than I could’ve aspired to be a mountain. It was this amazing thing, and somehow it was written. But I couldn’t see the words. I couldn’t see the craft, whereas the people who just talked about the craft made it feel doable. The idea of Harlan Ellison writing short stories in the windows of bookshops, I love that. That made the craft of writing feel like something that was actually conceivable, that I could get there.

John: It feels like an approachable romanticization. You could imagine yourself doing it. There’s also this idea of a working-class kid could go off and do that kind of thing, whereas I think oftentimes we think of novelists as being a very special breed who went to the fancy schools, who came from a background that allowed them to be novelists, and whereas science fiction at that time feels very approachable, where a normal person could do it. We don’t glamorize the art and craft of science fiction in the same way we do other genres.

Neil: Absolutely. I thought I was going to be a science fiction writer, and then I wasn’t. It took me ages to realize that I was never going to be a… I always felt like, “Okay, I’m probably still a failed science fiction writer, but look, I wrote this story that I love, and it’s not really science fiction.” Furthermore, really at the end of the day, my understanding of science consists of enjoying reading new scientists, but you don’t want to say to me, “Neil, we need to get to the Moon.” That is up to you. You will never get to the Moon.

Craig: There would be a delightful story that would have a brutally sad but also weirdly wistful ending, and I would really enjoy it. I wouldn’t get to the Moon. I would enjoy the story.

I want to talk a little bit more about young Neil Gaiman, because I have this idea in my mind about what it was like. My idea could be wildly wrong. But I imagine this incredibly, intensely intelligent kid, who perhaps maybe is also a little bit lonely, because loneliness is just constantly present in everything you write, I think. An observant kid who also starts to see very early on the similarity between stories in all genres, from all cultures, because of that thing.

And then there’s this other thing. You grew up in a family that was Scientologists. I did not know that. You yourself are not, I don’t believe, currently a Scientologist. I grew up in a religious family, Jewish family. Ethnically, I am Jewish and will forever be so, but I don’t practice. Growing up in a religion also I think impacts our understanding of stories and mythologies and how some are elevated above others. This is my interesting picture of a young Neil Gaiman.

Neil: I think for me, one of the things that, looking back, may have been the biggest blessing, although I didn’t really know or understand it in that way at the time, was the fact that I was attending, as a scholarship kid, a high church, Church of England school, with parents who were Scientologists, but Jewish Scientologists who were determined that I was going to be bar mitzvahed, so who sent me up to North London every weekend and for school holidays, to have the ultra orthodox-

Craig: Oh, god.

Neil: … incredibly frum Reverend Meyer Lev come and take me through my bar mitzvah stuff.

Craig: Sorry, side note for John and most others listening. Frum is a Yiddish term for extremely religious. When you see Hasidic people, not all of them reach the level of frum. That’s what Neil is referring to.

Neil: That for me wound up being this very strange and wonderful thing in its own right, because I wound up getting this… In a lot of ways, he didn’t do what he was hired to do. What he was hired to do was teach me my bar mitzvah portions, so give me enough knowledge of Hebrew and the tunes that went with the bit to get me through it. But he discovered this kid who was incredibly fascinated by myth and by the Jewish stories. He happened to be somebody who was incredibly deeply versed in the midrash, in the commentaries, in all of this stuff. I would be getting this continuous, rather glorious parallel bible. I’m learning all of these weird stories. This is my weekends and my school holidays. Then at school, everybody except me is high church Christian. I’m the one getting the full marks on the religious studies stuff, because I’m loving all of this stuff. Then my parents are Scientologists at home.

I wound up, on the one hand, feeling like an outsider to every kind of belief, which I think is probably a very good thing for a writer to be. On the other hand, I wound up in a huge puddle-like confluence of belief, in which I found myself perfectly capable of believing anything, including the existence of America, which I’d seen on televisions. They have these pizzas and things there. It was this weird kind of place. I could believe anything, but I was just standing in the kitchen, looking at the people at the party.

Craig: Observing.

Neil: Looking back on it, it gave me a love of myth and a love of story. I think it was probably also responsible in some ways for the loneliness. I read a lovely thing about self-insert characters. Somebody had pointed to an interview done with me about Ocean at the End of the Lane, where I talk about how I’d actually basically taken myself at the age of seven. The family in that story is not my family. The sister in that story is not my sister. The house is my house. The place is my place. The viewpoint character is me at that age. I was thinking about that. I thought, I didn’t do the thing of… People were talking in this article about how if you do a self-insert character, you can give yourself superpowers or you could give yourself magic or whatever. I’m like, “No, I didn’t do that.” Then I thought, “I kind of did, in a weird way,” which is I gave myself friends.

Craig: Wow.

Neil: I gave myself a friend, which I really didn’t have when I was seven. I wasn’t that kid.

Craig: That’s fascinating. When you describe this kid who’s in the kitchen, looking out and observing, and then you describe this notion of self-insertion, whether it’s intentional or not or subtextual, I think about, I guess, perhaps your most famous character, who is Dream from Sandman, and how that’s literally his purpose for existing is to observe the stories that people create and always be apart from them and be so powerful as to be not powerful at all, because it’s just endless. He is one of The Endless. It never ends. I don’t know if that felt like self-insertion, but hearing you talk about it, it starts to feel a little bit like that.

Neil: In my head, whenever I was writing him, I never thought of myself as Dream. But I remember a few years ago talking to Karen Berger, my editor, and she was like, “Yeah, that was always you.” I’m like, “No, I was funny. I was this. I was that.” I can point to kid in Ocean at the End of the Lane and go, “That was me,” because that was intentionally me. With something like Dream, you’re into the danger spot.

Craig: I know what you mean.

Neil: You’re into the dangerous place where people say, “Which of your characters are you?” You have to say, “All of them, even the really nasty ones, even the terrible ones.” In order to write a character who feels true, in order to write a character that you recognize, in order to write a character, you have to go and find that bit of you that can be them. Sometimes you’re blowing on an ember to get it red again. There isn’t very much of you here, but you can make that. Sometimes it’s, “If I was, in an alternate universe, a talking pumpkin with a machine gun, what would I be saying?” It’s like an act of puppetry or of ventriloquism. You are talking to your hand. I think that, as part of being a writer, is always true.

Are there bits of Dream, of The Endless that are me? Absolutely. But there are bits of all of the characters in Sandman who are me. Merv Pumpkinhead was absolutely me, because sometimes I just needed to stand there going, “Do you realize how ridiculous the story is? Can we just take a second to take a look at the fact that this is what he’s doing and that he’s an idiot? Now that needs to be said, and it’s been said. Let’s move on.”

Craig: Wonderful.

John: Neil. We were talking about you reading science fiction, and science fiction felt approachable, because those authors were talking about their process in ways that other authors hadn’t been talking about. When were you starting to actually put words together in stories, the first things that you’d say, “Okay, this is a story that actually has a beginning, middle, and end, that has characters that go through a process.” Was that in childhood? Was that later on? I know you studied journalism at a point too. When were you actually telling stories?

Neil: I remember the only thing that I loved in school. There were lots of things that I liked, and there were lots of things I was good at, but the only thing that I loved was English essays where they let you essentially write a short story if you wanted to. That for me was the best thing. I remember stories I wrote when I was 7, 8, 9, 10, 11. In my head, probably they’re a lot better than they actually were when they were written. Then I remember they all got finished, because they were proper school essays, even though they were all short stories. Then there was a period in my late teens when nothing ever got finished. I’d start short stories, and I’d start novels. Sometimes I’d write 30 pages of the novel, whatever. But nothing would get finished.

Craig: What was going on there?

Neil: Probably two things, one of which was I wasn’t very good, and the other thing ,which was probably more important, was that when I’d written those school essays, you just start somewhere and head out for somewhere and get somewhere, then you’re done, and maybe you wrote something that worked, whereas I didn’t have any understanding of the idea of actually planning a story. I think that was important.

I think probably much more important than that was the fact that I had absolutely nothing to say at that point in my life. That is probably the hardest thing for a writer. I don’t give much advice to young writers. I give the same pieces of advice over and over again. You have to write. You have to finish things or whatever.

Brian K. Vaughan came up to me once and said, “You gave me the best advice I’ve ever had.” I said, “What was it?” He said, “I came up to you at a signing, and I said, ‘Want to be a writer. Don’t know how to do it. It’s not working. What do I do? I’ve written journalism. I’ve finished things. I can do this. But nothing’s any good.’ And what you said was, ‘Good. Go and live. Stop trying to write. Go out into the world. Get a job. Get your heart broken. Go and see things. Get stranded a long way from home. Have things go wrong. Have stuff happen. You don’t have anything to write about yet. What you’re saying is you’ve got the chops. You just don’t have anything to say.'”

There’s another truth to that, which is that we are, all of us I think who write, in a lot of ways, probably all of the stuff that made us writers and all of the big important stuff that happened to us probably happened before we were 15 anyway, but we’re much too close to it when we’re 18. We’re much too close to it when we’re 21. We may get back there when we’re 45. On the way, you just need things to happen. You need things to say. You need to figure shit out on your own.

Craig: That’s absolutely true. Particularly in Hollywood, when you arrive here, and your aspiration is to write in television or movies, everyone is put on a clock instantly. If you’re not succeeding rapidly, you’re failing. If you’re not succeeding continuously, you’re failing. Everything is defined in terms of what just happened, never the now, never the present, never learning, and never preparing for anything. I think a lot of people that listen to our show, who are trying to figure out the same questions that you get asked all the time at signings, what am I doing wrong, or how can I do it more correctly, a lot of them are feeling that pressure of, why isn’t this working right now? I think it’s so valuable to hear that from you, that it takes time to figure shit out.

Neil: Let me also throw in here, there is nothing that I’ve ever done and got right and probably got awards for that I haven’t also done first and got badly wrong and got lousy reviews for. You have to do those too. It’s the Chuck Jones line about you have a million lousy drawings in your pencil, so draw them all, so that the good ones can come out. It’s okay to do the thing that doesn’t work. It’s okay to write the story that fails. You go, “That was weird,” because three years later, everything that you learned, but you didn’t know that you were learning when you were writing that story or writing that TV series or whatever, is going to be there for you when you need it, to write the good one.

Craig: I love that.

John: Neil, when do you first think you can identify yourself a consistent voice, where what the stories are about, the words on the page, where you can identify, “This feels like my fingerprints. This feels like my work.” What was an early example of that?

Neil: When I think I was just 22, I wrote my first book, which was a children’s book called My Great Aunt Ermintrude. I wrote it, and I sent it out to a publisher, and they sent it back. Because I didn’t understand if things come back, you keep sending them out, I put it in the attic, and I did other things. About 20 years later, Coraline came out, was incredibly successful. I thought, “I have a children’s book in my attic. I should pull it out, that book I wrote when I was 22. I’ll read it to my daughter and find out if it’s any good.” Went and found the manuscript. Actually, the original manuscript had vanished, but I found a carbon copy.

Craig: Oh, wow.

Neil: You remember those.

Craig: Oh my god, yeah.

John: That’s right.

Neil: I read the carbon copy. What was most interesting is, A, I had nothing to say, but I said it anyway. B, you could look at it on a page-by-page basis and go, “Okay, this is me doing a fairly competent Roald Dahl. This is me doing a fairly competent Hugh Lofting. This is me doing a now-forgotten writer named Noel Langley,” most famous for actually being one of the writers of the Wizard of Oz movie. “Look, I can do a fairly good Noel Langley here.” Then I remember around about page 100, there was a page that was pure Neil Gaiman. Looking at it now, it’s like, “Oh my gosh, look at that. That page, that’s all me. The logic of the thing.” I go back to that. Years later, I come back and I steal from that page. I do things, and I’d completely forgotten about it. “Look, there I sound like me.”

The thing about voice is everybody who starts out wants to start out with a unique voice. It’s absolutely possible that there are people out there who just have a unique voice. When they write, they write in their unique voice and they get there. I think for most of us, what we do is we start out sounding like other people, and we find our voice during the process of writing an awful lot.

There’s a lovely line that I’ve been quoting for decades now, which I was told was said by Jerry Garcia of The Grateful Dead, except that I’ve tried to Google to find the original, and the only thing that I can ever find is me quoting that and attributing it to him. For all I know, I made it up. It’s that style is the stuff you get wrong. If you were a perfect writer, if you were a perfect guitar player, it would be pristine. There would be nothing there. It would just be the sound of a guitar being played perfectly. But it’s the stuff you’re getting a bit wrong that actually gives you the style that makes people go… That’s what people are actually responding to. Again, I think you only get there by… Write 100,000 words. Write 500,000 words. Write a million words. Pretty soon, you’re going to sound like you.

The first comic I wrote, first important one was a thing called Violent Cases. I sound like me in that. Then I go and write Black Orchid. I look at that now, and I go, “It’s pretty good,” but it’s me halfway between Alan Moore, whose work I loved, and me trying to find the voice that isn’t mine, which these days looks more like Quentin Tarantino than it does like anything that’s Neil Gaiman. Quentin wouldn’t be writing for another… I wouldn’t run into his work for another five or six years. It’s a fun sort of voice. Then Sandman starts.

In the beginning of Sandman, I’m just doing all of these genres that I loved as a kid. The first one is Dennis Wheatley-ish, British haunted house horror. Then the second one is EC Comics and DC Comics anthology titles. The third is what Clive Barker and Ramsey Campbell were doing at that time. The fourth is really unknown worlds, back when people like Robert Heinlein in the 1940s were writing fantasy stuff, and doing one of those in the Hell one. Then I go all weird, and I’m trying to figure out what I’m doing.

Then suddenly in eight, the death one, I don’t have a model. I don’t have anything that I can do that anyone else has done, but I think I have a story. I’m not even sure if it’s a story, because stories are meant to have conflict, and in this story, you’ve just got a brother runs into his sister, and they walk around New York a bit until he cheers up, and on the way some people die. Yet that’s the one that I point at and I go, “That’s my voice.” From that point on, I become me, in my own kind of weird way. I’ve written enough, and I’m not trying to try on anybody else’s hat.

Craig: From a reader’s perspective, I don’t know if this is interesting to you or not, but I do remember getting to that issue and thinking – I don’t think in terms of the author; I just think in terms of the story – the story is relaxing. It’s relaxing, because you’re right, the first seven are throwing so many things at you. It’s dense, and it’s, in moments, extreme. Certainly, the John Dee story is extreme. It’s exciting, and it’s wild, and it’s wonderful, and it’s funny, but there’s so much. Then you get to that issue, and it breathes.

Then what I think is really interesting – and I don’t know if you felt this at the time when you were writing it – everything that comes after seems to move at the correct speed. When it wants to be fast, it’s fast. When it wants to be slow, it’s slow. It’s like you gave yourself permission to relax. What ensues is some of the most remarkable writing in any medium, I think.

Neil: I look back on it now, and I’m amazed at the incredible good fortune I had of doing what I was doing at the time that I was doing it. I was doing it at a time when you could do comics and exist under the radar, which was really important. I got to change the way that comics were told, and the idea of comics as a commercial thing changed. Nobody had ever done a comic at the time, in the mainstream, where they would anthologize what you were doing as you did it. That gave me an ability to tell much more complex stories that weren’t reliant on can you remember what you wrote a month ago. I knew that I was going to end the story.

I remember saying to Jenette Kahn, who at that time was the president of DC Comics, I said, “I will need to end Sandman when it’s done.” She said, “Neil, you know that isn’t going to happen. It didn’t happen with Batman. It didn’t happen with Superman. It’s an incredibly successful comics title. When you retire, somebody else will come in, and they will take over Sandman. That’s how it happens.” I thought, “Shall I argue?” Then I thought, “No, I’m not going to argue at all.” What I did from that point on was, every time anybody would ask me in interviews, “What’s going to happen with Sandman when you’re finished?” I would say, “One of two things will happen. Either DC will end the comic, and I will continue to work with DC, or somebody else will take over, and that will be the end of my relationship with DC Comics. One of these two things will happen.”

By the time that Sandman was wrapping up, I just remember getting a phone call, again, from Karen Berger, saying, “We can’t really keep this going after you’re done, can we?” I said, “No, you can’t.” She said, “Could we do something like a comic called The Dreaming, and just spin off some of these characters?” I said, “Sure, we’ll do any of those things. We can do a Lucifer comic or whatever. We can do all that stuff, but Sandman ends.” She’s like, “Okay.”

Craig: I would’ve been terrified to be the person taking over if they had continued it. That would’ve been the most terrifying thing to imagine. One of the reasons I would be terrified, because back to something you just said, which is, okay, this is anthologized, and you don’t have to remember what happened in last month’s issue, but sometimes you have to remember what happened three years ago in the issues, because your grasp of intertextuality is kind of unfathomable to me.

When you read the full length of The Sandman, there are things that happen, and it makes me think, “Either this man’s mind works on levels inaccessible to my own, or this was all preplanned in some insane room, which I doubt, or Neil Gaiman has a very good way of surprising himself with a connection and then making it work.” I’m curious as to which of those or what unmentioned alternative there is to explain how good you are at that.

Neil: Back then in Sandman days, I remember reading some Dickens and getting very excited reading Dickens, because I found myself recognizing what he was doing on a level of, “Oh, you are writing a serialized story.” There are things that you know, there are things that you have planned out, and there are places you’re absolutely going. There are things that you are doing because you have two pages to fill. There are things that you’re doing because you have two pages to fill where you’ve just brought something on that you don’t know is important, but it’s going to be a thing that you will use. Here’s a thing where you’re throwing a ball in the air that you know you will catch. You know the ball is important, but you don’t need to know right now why it’s important. You just need to know that it’s important while you’re writing the rest of the thing. It will be there for you when you need it.

I’m definitely not one of the people who sits down and does what I think of as proper plotting, where you do the architectural diagram of everything before you begin. In George R.R. Martin’s analogy, I’m much more of a gardener. I will plant things. It helped that until I got meningitis in 2003, I had the most amazing memory. I kind of lost that. After meningitis, I went back to having a normal human being memory.

Craig: Welcome back.

Neil: Exactly. It was like, “Okay.”

Craig: It took meningitis literally to make you mortal. All right.

Neil: It took meningitis. Before then, I had an amazing memory. I remember the entirety of Sandman was sitting there in RAM.

Craig: Wow.

Neil: There’s 3,000 pages of it by the end. It’s all there. I’m making all of the connections that I need to while I’m writing. There are things that I’m like, “Okay, I’ll do this, but I’ll put this down here.” I did them, but I also trusted future me, which I think is something that as a writer you have to learn to do sometimes. Future you is there. Future you will sometimes sort this thing out. You just need to know this thing happens.

The only time that future me completely let me down was in American Gods. I’d done this thing early in the book where Chernobog, this big, Slavic guard with a hammer, has said to Shadow, our hero, at some point, “I will do this thing, but you in turn have to come back here, and I’m going to smash your skull with a hammer.” I’m writing the book. Everything else is falling. Balls are tossed into the air, being caught. Everything’s working. I’m so proud of myself. That one, it’s just like, “Hey, future me, have we solved this one yet?” Each morning I’d wake up and go, “I’m still past me, apparently.”

I remember that one, I wound up in Gothenburg book festival. Terry Pratchett and I went over for the Swedish publication of Good Omens. We’re on a train back to Stockholm. I said, “Terry, I cannot work this one out.” I talked it through with him. I just said, “This is what’s happening in the plot.” He thought about it for a minute. He said, “What if he just taps his forehead with the hammer and lets him go? He could’ve done it, but thing happens.” I’m like, “Yeah, [inaudible 00:35:05].”

John: Neil, talking about the difference between American Gods, which was written as a full book, so you could’ve gone back and changed anything – you weren’t locked into decisions you’d made, compared to Dickens or Sandman were serialized and they were coming out every month and there was a responsibility to pay off those things before – all this reminds me so much of what the TV showrunner is doing. The TV showrunner approaches a season with a plan for how things are going to start, and then oftentimes in our favorite shows, it’s a few episodes in where it finally finds its voice, its footing, and it keeps going. That showrunner still has to trust future showrunner to keep things going, keep things running in the air. Can you talk to us about the process of delivering each new installment of something like Sandman? What was your timeline? Do you have, responsible every month for delivering the script for this and then seeing what was going to happen next?

Neil: Yeah. That was how it worked. You start out about six months ahead, but you burn that as you go, over the next year. Pretty soon, you’re only three months ahead. You don’t have that fabulous stash of time and stuff. You have to deliver. Much like TV, if I didn’t deliver Sandman on time, then the artist didn’t have anything to draw. Then the colorist didn’t have anything to color. The letterist wasn’t getting paid for lettering. They all had rent to make. There was an obligation there that I couldn’t really be late. I had to come through. Most of the time, I could do it.

I remember once having to finish a Sandman story before I went to a convention, and just finishing it and sending the script off, going to the convention, spending the entire convention being miserable, going, “I got the end wrong. I got the end completely wrong,” and getting home and just rewriting, doing a completely different last six pages and sending it in.

What I love about that is, on the one hand I had a great memory, and on the other hand, the day after I’d sent in the new script, I had forgotten what the old last six pages was. I’d tell people, “No, that issue had a completely different last six pages.” They were like, “What happened?” I’m like, “I don’t know. Something that wasn’t the story.”

Craig: Your body rejects it. I guess we’ve got some questions from other people that we might want to dig into here. But if there’s one thing that I think is essential for good writers to cultivate, it is that sense of knowing what is wrong, feeling it like a thorn in your skin, to the extent that it bothers you all weekend. If you’re not bothered all weekend at some point by something you’ve written, this might not be for you, and to then reject it like that. You’re absolutely right. When it’s wrong, the RAM flushes that. That’s gone. There’s no space for it. That’s why it was a thorn. It didn’t belong. Fascinating to hear. Look at this. We’ve got a big thing.

John: We’ve got a big thing here. We are a podcast about screenwriting and writing. It’s always so good when we can actually take a look at the words on the page and what they actually look like and what they were. This is from Sandman 24. This is just a look at what your script is like. With your permission, I’d love to be able to put a link in this to the show notes.

Neil: Of course.

John: We’re used to screenplay format. Most of what we talk about on the podcast is a very standard screenplay format. There is not one standard comics format. If you’ll look through, there’s similar things. They’re always talking about pages and panels, but the actual layout of stuff on the page is so different.

Looking at your thing here, it very much feels like kind of an email starting. You’re talking to Kelley, Malcolm, Todd, Steve, Tom, Karen. “Here we are at the third part of Season of Mists. We last saw the Sandman watching Lucifer walking away into the mists, having been given the key to Hell. This episode begins a few hours later.” It’s really chatty. It very much feels like you’re having a conversation with somebody about, this is what’s going to happen.

Then as you get into descriptions of what’s happening in the panels, it’s much more verbose than what we’re used to in screenwriting. There’s not this page-per-minute kind of assumption. It’s very full. You’re really trying to paint the picture for the artists and for everyone reading the script.

Neil: Bear in mind that in TV production terms, I’m the writer, but I’m also the editor. I’m also probably working very closely with people we’d think of like the production designer.

Craig: Going to say, yeah.

Neil: The artist becomes the camera crew.

Craig: Cinematographer, yeah.

Neil: The cinematographer and is also kind of all of the actors. They are also the production designer. You’re working with them, trying to get them every piece of information they need in order to do their job. What does this look like? What does it feel like? What emotions are happening here? What are people thinking? It’s stuff where if you were doing it in script form, you might be having conversations with people. You’re going to spend half a day with your production designer.

John: That’s what we talk about as a tone meeting, where you’re really sitting down, both a production and a tone meeting. You’re talking with all the different people about what you need to have done. But in talking with that director in the tone meeting, you’re really talking about, “This is what the intention is here. Let’s really think through what this is.” It feels like a tone meeting on the page here.

Neil: That’s exactly what it is. It’s an informal letter to the artist and to everybody else who might be involved. I write in order to try and get them complicit. I want to draw them into my madness so that we have a team, and we’re all making the same thing. I remember the first time I ever wrote a TV series. It was a TV series for the BBC called Neverwhere.

John: I loved it.

Neil: Thank you. I was the writer, but I didn’t have control. I didn’t have power. I remember the very first time I felt like the ground beneath my feet was slipping a bit was wandering into costume and talking to the costume designer. I’d specified very specific clothes for the characters in the script. She showed me something that one of the characters was wearing. I said, “Oh, but in the script she’s wearing a giant old-fashioned flying jacket, a big, old, leather flying jacket.” She says, “There’s too much leather already in this.” I said, “There isn’t anybody else that I’ve written any leather for.” I realized, okay, she’s doing her own stuff, and she’s showing it to the director, and the director is signing off on it. Nobody’s showing the costumes to the writer. Nobody’s actually looking at what it says in the script and going, “Oh, this is what we do.” They’re just looking at the script and going, “Okay, the writer is just saying stuff about what these characters are wearing, but we know much better.”

Craig: Welcome to the movie business. That’s what it is. I’ve worked in features. John has worked in features for so many years. You have just summed up precisely what it means to be a feature writer in the United States.

Looking at this and seeing the specificity of what you’re asking, first of all the level of specificity is glorious. You are absolutely doing the job of the showrunner here. This ties into our topic from, I think it was last week. You’re clearly seeing the page visually in your mind. You can see it. You are telling the artists and the layout people, “Left column. This panel above this panel. Right column. Full page.” You can literally see how everything is working, which I think is the hallmark of somebody that can do it all. You have done it all for both television and film but also so beautifully in this medium as well.

John: Neil, question for you, because on last week’s episode, we were talking about the way that Craig and I tend to write scenes is that we visualize the place, we put ourselves in that place, and then we write what we’re seeing, write what we’re experiencing around us. Writing something about this panel that we’re looking at for Sandman, are you placing yourself inside a space, or are you really just thinking about, “This is the page, and this is what I’m seeing on the page.” Because those are not the same things. Talk to us about what you’re seeing.

Neil: They aren’t the same things. When I write a movie script or a TV script, I’m definitely thinking of the experience on the screen, but also I’m there with the actors while I’m writing. I’m both. I’m trying to write, “This is what we’re seeing,” but I’m also trying to write the words and the action in a way that make me feel like I’m there and hopefully will make come alive for the actors.

For comics, the most important thing for me when I would do Sandman would be I would take eight sheets of typing paper, I would fold them over, and I would draw a little cover on the front cover, even though it wouldn’t look anything ever like anything that Dave McKean was actually going to do. Then I would go through and mark where the ads would be, because it was important to me to know where I could have double-page spreads.

John: The equivalent of the commercial breaks in television, basically, the structure.

Neil: Exactly. You’re working out, “Okay, I’m going to have a break here, so structurally it’ll be eight pages, and then there’s four pages, and then the left-hand page is going to be on even-numbered pages here. It’ll be odd-numbered pages for four pages. Then it’s going to go back to even numbers.” I needed to know that to know when people are turning the page, because one of the things that is incredibly important in any form of writing is to know what the unit of communication is and how you’re giving information to people. For me, I rapidly came to the conclusion that in comics you think the unit of information is the panel, but it’s not. It’s the page.

Craig: The page.

Neil: The action of turning the page is a physical action. That allows you to change scenes if you need to. That allows you to surprise the reader. I can surprise the reader. If I’m going to surprise the reader, it has to be on a left-hand page that you’re going to turn a right-hand page to, to go, “Oh my god, I didn’t see that coming.” You don’t want to try and surprise the reader on something that’s going to be on a right-hand page, that they will have turned over to and they may have glanced at, whatever. I think in a novel or a short story, it’s probably the paragraph, but it’s certainly not the page in the same way, because the page is mutable. The pages can change, just depending on how the thing is laid out and the typescript.

For me, the visual feeling of what am I trying to do on this page, what am I trying to do here, in Sandman I probably did, over the course of however many – there were 75 issues of the main comic and then, I don’t know, let’s say another 10 all together of various things – I would always be very aware of when I was going to use a double-page spread. I used them very, very rarely, but every time I did, they were important. You’d turn the page, and now you’ve got something that covers two whole pages. I had to use up two pages on that. I had to be willing to sacrifice two pages. I only had 24 pages to sell my story in. I now have 23, because I gave one up to have a double-page spread.

Craig: Needs to earn that.

Neil: It really has to earn that.

John: I’ve written three books, and I’ve written obviously a zillion screenplays, but I’m doing my first graphic novel right now. I’m loving it, but I’m also finding it strange, because I assumed I knew what it was going to be like, and it’s different than that. Your description that the page is a unit of information is so true.

A scene I was writing yesterday had an earthquake in it, so I had to really think about, “Okay, how am I showing an earthquake? I know how I’d do that in a book. I know how I would do that in a screenplay. But what am I actually showing here? What are the tools I can use that are specific to a drawn format that’s going to carry this off? How is the earthquake affecting the type? What all is happening in there?”

It’s really liberating, but it’s also very different, because so much of it can look like a movie script. There’s characters, there’s dialogue, and there are scenes, and yet you’re always thinking about what is the experience of the reader. That experience is just so different than it would be in a screenplay.

Neil: It’s so interesting when you look at it as control. A novel in a way is like telepathy. At its best, you’re doing something magical. You’re getting something out of your head. You’re putting it into some kind of code. Then somebody at the other end is reading it and decoding it and building something up, building pictures, building people in their head. You don’t really have control over what the people look like. You don’t have control over what the people sound like. There’s a lot of stuff you don’t have. But you do have this weird magic telepathy. With a movie or with TV, you have a awful lot of control over the actual thing that is being experienced. It is happening in real time. If you’re building it right, you know where you can get people to smile. You know where you can get people to cry.

With Season 1 of Good Omens, I would talk to the director. We’d be sitting in the editing room. He would say, “Nobody’s going to get that.” I would say, “No, they won’t get it on the first viewing, but they’ll get it the third or fourth time they watch it.” He’s like, “Neil, people don’t watch TV three or four times.” I’m like, “I think they’ll watch this. I think it’ll work.” He’s like, “You’re being an idiot.” For the second season working together, he’s like, “Okay, so they won’t get this the first time. I figure about time number four or time number five when they go through, they’ll certainly realize that this is also that,” because he’d realized that that was very much how it worked.

You have absolute control. The thing is happening in real time. There are real people in front of you. They are saying things. You can hear it. You can control the music. You can control an awful lot of things happening. In comics, you’re in a mid-zone. You have control over some of this stuff. You rapidly realize that you don’t have a soundtrack, so you start trying to compensate as a writer. You’re like, “I’ve got the picture track. I’ve got this thing.” I can give you information in ways that I wouldn’t want to give you information in a film, because you can’t just stop the film watching the film for the first time and nip back 10 pages and go, “Hang on. Was that the guy who came in?” You have to go, “I think,” whereas in a comic, you’d just go, “Oh yeah, that was the guy. Ah, clever,” and you can keep going.

You can also control things like turning a page. You can control the ways information comes. You can think of ways of doing things, like here with your earthquake, where you go, “Nobody’s ever actually done this before that I’ve seen. I need to come up with a way that’s completely cool and original,” which you don’t have to do in film. You know you’ve got an incredibly experienced crew, and they’ve already all done four or five different earthquakes in four or five different shows anyway, so they all know that you just get this heavy bloke over here to jump up and down while you shake the camera a little bit over here, and somebody back there is going to push the books off the shelves, and yay, we’ve got an earthquake. For a comic, you may be the first person writing this particular earthquake in this particular way, and you’re going to have to make it up.

John: It’s been fun to do.

Neil: That’s so much fun.

John: We could make up things all day here, but we do need to wrap up the show. We wrap up with One Cool Things. Craig, do you want to start with yours?

Craig: Sure. My One Cool Thing this week is the game Starfield. As everyone knows, I pretty much play all the big ones. This is going to be a weird One Cool Thing for me, because mostly, I’m going to complain about it. Normally, One Cool Things are just all positive.

Starfield is the latest game from Bethesda, the team that does the Elder Scrolls series and Fallout. It’s beautiful. It’s a beautiful game. Visually, it’s beautiful. The sound is fantastic. There’s this sound that spaceships make, our own rockets make when they take off. It’s that as they’re really getting up there, there’s this wonderful rippling of the air, this violent rippling of the air, this really specific noise that they just nailed. Every time it happens, I’m so excited to hear it. It really is awesome. They’ve gotten so much right. The planets you visit are beautiful.

But here’s the thing. This formula that they have, that they use for Elder Scrolls in a fantasy setting, and Fallout in a science fiction setting on a nuclear-ravaged earth, and now Starfield investigating, it’s beyond old. It is now fully a rut. There are multiple factions that you join. They all invite you to join. They all give you missions. Eventually, they will all conflict with each other, and you will have to make a choice that is based on some, I call it, quote unquote, morals, because you’re forced to eventually do something bad that just feels terrible. They do this thing where everyone, when they speak to you, they look right into the camera, which is really unnerving. Even when we’re talking to each other, we’re not drilling into each other’s eyes like this. It’s just this clunky method of doing things. It’s addictive.

It is addictive, because the game is built around giving you tasks that you can complete, which I think for writers is just pure crack cocaine, because we are so often just like, “I can do anything. How do I even define success?” This is like, “Great. Go here. Do this. You win. Good.” In ways, beautiful. But Bethesda, it’s enough. You’ve got to stop. You need to do something else. This is getting silly. That’s my One sort of Cool Thing.

John: Craig, you’ve saved Hollywood, because you have perhaps liberated a bunch of screenwriters, including myself, from feeling the need to buy the game and play the game. With the hundreds of hours that we now have, we can make film and television better.

Craig: Sure, or conversely-

John: Or…

Craig: … I’ve doomed legions of us to adapt video games that probably shouldn’t be adapted. Let’s just say that I’ve affected Hollywood. We will withhold all moral judgments until we see how it turns out, but probably poorly.

John: My One Cool Thing is an article I read this week by K.K. Rebecca Lai and Jennifer Medina. It’s the New York Times. It’s about how Census categories for race and ethnicity have shaped how the nation sees itself. It’s charting over the last 230 years how US Census data on race and ethnicity, the labels keep changing. The way the labels keep changing is actually really interesting. The way we group people is often contentious and sometimes transformational, because when you put people in a group together, it’s like, oh, we are this group or we’re not this group.

One of the most recent changes is a new category called Middle Eastern and North African, putting all those people from that area together. Over the years, we’ve kept wrestling with how to deal with Latino and Hispanic, whether it is a characteristic you apply in addition to something else or if it’s its own separate category. I think the bigger issue is really we’ve gone from race being a thing that a Census taker applies, they look at you and they say, “This is what your race is,” to something that people self-identify what their race is. That’s a pretty foundationally different thing.

It’s also interesting how as terms themselves change, things that used to be just descriptors become pejorative. We’ve seen that in other things too, like disabilities for example. Just a really good overview of where we’ve been over the last 230 years, talking about race in America, which of course, a complicated subject, and why we’re at this place now and how this is not the end of the story. We’re going to keep thinking differently about race and ethnicity in the decades to come.

Craig: This is a really well-done… I’m just looking at this. The New York Times has gotten very good at this sort of thing.

John: Really the infographic-y stuff that actually lets you explore.

Craig: It’s quite good.

John: So smartly done.

Craig: I will say this for the person that was filling the ledger for the first Census in 1790, penmanship, outstanding. Neil, I know that you are a big fountain pen guy. This guy I assume is feather. Is it quill? I don’t know what he’s using.

John: Perhaps a quill. Who knows?

Craig: Man, he’s good. He’s good and consistent, and particularly the capital D’s.

Neil: I love my pens.

Craig: Fantastic. Love it.

John: Neil Gaiman, do you have a One Cool Thing to share with us?

Neil: I do. I have One Cool Thing. I thought, “What should my One Cool Thing be? Because this is all about writing.” I thought, “I should pick One Cool Thing that is inspirational, because it’ll get people writing.” I thought, “Who is the writer who for me is the most inspirational who people won’t know about, and I can inspire people with them?” I thought, “Of course, it is Harry Stephen Keeler.”

Craig: Go on.

Neil: Harry Stephen Keeler is, depending on which way you look at it, either the worst good writer that America ever came up with or the greatest bad writer that America ever produced. Wrote from the ’20s until at least the ’50s. By the ’60s, he may have still been writing, but he was only published in Spain, in Spanish, for reasons that nobody ever understands.

Craig: Wow.

Neil: Harry Stephen Keeler plotted worse than any of us. Harry Stephen Keeler did dialogue worse than any of us. Harry Stephen Keeler was terrible in so many ways. This wonderful Chicago writer who you know that whatever he does is going to be awful. He used to write his novels by writing… He had 75,000 words to fill. By the time he’d finished his novels, he’d normally write 80,000 words, so he’d just cut 10,000 to 15,000 words out, and that will be the beginning of the next novel.

Craig: Wow.

Neil: Which often meant that the novels have the same kind of plot-

Craig: Oh, god.

Neil: … very often involving skulls in bags. I thought I’d just read a tiny bit-

Craig: Oh, please.

Neil: … for you.

Craig: We need to know.

Neil: This is from a book called The Riddle of the Traveling Skull.

Craig: Wow.

John: I love that. It sounds like a Three Investigators title. I love it.

Craig: The thought that a skull travels, it’s just wrong already.

Neil: And has a riddle-

Craig: And has a riddle.

Neil: … associated with it. He liked skulls. The Skull of the Traveling Clown is another.

Craig: More traveling.

Neil: Was it Traveling Clown, or was it the Laughing Clown? Anyway, “He irritated me, strangely,” says our narrator. “And in the hope of getting a line on the source of his abnormal interest in me, I began to review the events – such as they were – which followed my exit from the big new Union Passenger Station at Randolph Street and Michigan Avenue. For it must be remembered that at that time I knew quite nothing, naturally, concerning Milo Payne, the mysterious Cockney-talking Englishman with the checkered long-beaked Sherlockholmsian cap; nor of the latter’s ‘Barr-Bag’ which was as like my own bag as one Milwaukee wiener-wurst is like another; nor of Legga, the Human Spider, with her four legs and her six arms; nor of Ichabod Chang, ex-convict, and son of Dong Chang; nor of the elusive poetess, Abigail Sprigge; nor of the Great Simon, with his 2163 pearl buttons; nor of– in short, I then knew quite nothing about anything or anybody involved in the affair of which I had now become a part, unless perchance it were my Nemesis, Sophie Kratzenschneiderwumpel – or Suing Sophie!”

Craig: Wow. Wow. What an amazing list of things-

John: That’s amazing.

Craig: … he didn’t know. That’s awesome. That’s amazing. Here’s a list of things I didn’t know, all of which sound terrible. Now I guess I’m doomed to find to all of them, including Legga.

Neil: You will find out about Legga the Human Spider-

Craig: Legga.

Neil: … and everything else. This is a glorious joy to me.

Craig: Wow.

Neil: It’s very liberating just reading Harry Stephen Keeler, because I’m like, “Oh, everything about this is terrible. You are doing accents and race in the manner of somebody in the 1920s in Chicago in a way that probably would’ve been embarrassing even back then. The ways that you get through a sentence are not ways that normally people who get published get through sentences. It’s okay. I want to read you, because you’re going to leave me going either, ‘Somebody took so much joy in story,’ or you’re just going to leave me going, ‘At least whatever I write next is not going to be as bad as that.'”

Craig: That is valuable.

Neil: It’s so valuable.

Craig: Thank you for that gift, the gift of Harry Stephen Keeler. We’ll put a link in our show notes to make sure that people can read about him and his many skull-related stories. Oh, yeah, look at this list of skull-related stories. God, these are terrible titles. The Case of the Crazy Corpse. I would argue that that adjective cannot apply to a corpse. This is really, really bad. The Case of the Flying Hands.

Neil: The Mystery of the Wooden Spectacles.

Craig: Oh yes, of course. Oh my god, look. Wow. Also, very much about Asians. He’s really into Asians. That much is clear. A lot of Asian stuff. Okay, Harry Stephen Keeler. We see you. Thank you. Thank you, Neil Gaiman, for that. That was a lovely gift.

John: That is our show for this week. Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt and edited by Matthew Chilelli. Our outro this week is by Owen Danoff. If you have an outro, you can send us a link to ask@johnaugust.com. That’s also the place where you can send questions. You’ll find the show notes for this episode and all episodes at johnaugust.com. That’s also where you’ll find transcripts and sign up for our weekly newsletter called Inneresting, which has lots of links to things about writing. We have T-shirts and hoodies. They’re great. You can find them at Cotton Bureau. You can sign up to become a Premium Member at scriptnotes.net, where you get all the back-episodes and Bonus Segments, like the one we’re about to record on the projects we never get around to writing. Neil Gaiman, an absolute pleasure finally having you on the show. Thank you so much.

Neil: That was wonderful, guys. Thank you so much for having me.

Craig: It was a joy, and special. Special. You were a very special guest, at least to me. I don’t know about these other guys, but to me, special.

[Bonus Segment]

John: We’re back in the Bonus Segment. Not a surprise to anybody that I’m very organized. I have this database called Notion, which has lots of links to things that I’m working on, the active projects, but I also have a category called Ruminating Projects. Right now, there are 25 different titles that are in my Ruminating Projects, which is things that are not written but that are occupying some of my brain space. Every once in a while, they’ll take up a brain cycle, and I’ll think about that thing I never got around to writing.

I have a weird relationship with them, because some of them I will probably write, but most of them I will never write at all. They’re in this weird half state. I know enough about them. I know the characters. I know the setting. I know what is interesting to me about them. I also know I’m probably never going to write them. I thought we might spend a few minutes talking about the other stuff that’s in our heads that’s not ever going to be finished. Neil, what’s your take on that?

Neil: For me, there are two different kinds of things. There’s the one where you go, “Okay, it’s an idea, and it has legs. I don’t know how long I’m going to have to live, but if I live long enough, it’s a plane that I will probably eventually bring in to land.” Those ones, there are a few of them I’ve already managed. The Graveyard Book took me 25 years, mostly of not writing it, but going, “I wonder if I’m going to write that book one day. Oh, I think I am. No, I don’t think I am. Yeah, I think I will,” and eventually figuring out the voice of the book and getting there.

Right now, I’m writing – I started during the strike – a children’s book that was one of those projects, a very silly book about frogs in Central Park, that have been in the back of my head for a long time. It’s like, “How much longer can the strike go? I may as well write this, and it’ll be done.” Of course, the moment I seriously committed to it, the strike was over.

Craig: Naturally.

Neil: Then there are the ones that are really good ideas, but you realize you don’t really need to write, because obviously, whoever is in charge of sending ideas out into the world just sent the wrong idea to the wrong person.

I remember somewhere in the late ’90s getting incredibly excited for half a day. I think the movie Independence Day had just come out, and I thought, Presidents Day. You could make a film, and it would be a high-action adventure. It starts out in a futuristic Disney World where they’ve got a hall of presidents. Only all of these presidents are actually… What’s so exciting is that they’ve all clonally been built up from the actual DNA of the president in question. They’re actually all about 26, 27 years old, but to come on and say their bit in the hall of presidents, they’re made up to look like they’re in their 60s. They are wholly owned by Disney World. Because they are clonally built, they aren’t really even humans. This is about how Abraham Lincoln frees the presidents and how they have to get across America, going from Florida to Canada, where they’ll be free.

Craig: Yes, of course.

Neil: Three quarters of the way along, they’re going to be betrayed by Richard Nixon. Harrison, because he died so quickly and could’ve been anyone, he’ll be one of our leads. I remember just plotting this thing. It had explosions. It was big.

John: There’s a Bruckheimer quality to it. There’s a Con Air quality. I like it.

Neil: You get to the end, and you go-

Craig: They made it.

Neil: I’ll never. I have zero interest in ever making this thing. I never want to see it. Somewhere out there, there was a writer who got up that morning going, “God, just give me inspiration. What is the actual adventure movie that I should be writing?” They just sent the idea to the wrong person [crosstalk 01:08:47].

Craig: They sent it through the wrong tube. The other tragic thing that sometimes happens is you have an idea, and it gets you very excited. For me, I have ideas all the time, and if they don’t hit the level of, “I am compelled to do this,” then they’re just flushed. I don’t walk around with a list. Basically, I just keep hitting delete on everything as it comes in, like emails from people you don’t want. If I don’t get excited, I just hit delete, sometimes I suppose too quickly.

There was this idea that I had for a novel in the early 20-teens. I’d never written a novel before, but it seemed like it had to be a novel. It was the story of a man who could see how and when people would die. When his daughter was born and he held her for the first time, he realized at that moment he had seven years, and then she would die. There was nothing. He became obsessed with trying to stop it, and couldn’t, and has become now just basically the most fatalistic human in the world. Then he gets an opportunity maybe to intervene somehow in some other way and save someone. I became very, very obsessed with this.

I can’t remember who I was talking to, but I mentioned that I was doing this. They’re like, “Oh, Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose.” I’m like, “What?” They’re like, “Yeah, there’s an episode of X-Files.” It was an episode of X-Files in 1995, which was about, I don’t know, 20 years before I was thinking about this. It was great. I was like, “Ah, shit.” I didn’t watch X-Files back in the day. I watched it, and it was awesome. It was such a good episode. The late, great Peter Boyle plays Clyde Bruckman. It’s beautiful. The tone of it was beautiful. It was exactly what I was going for, this notion of just regret but also peace and acceptance and the confrontation of death. It was 45 minutes long.

I watched it and went, “All right. Well.” I had four chapters done. I was like, “Well, no,” because there are some things where it’s just too concepty to survive the thought that it’s just going to be out there in the world. People are like, “Have you read this vaguely fancy prose-ish version of Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose?” Alas.

John: I’ve had that experience where I felt liberated that I don’t need to write that anymore, because it’s already out there in the world, which is nice.

Neil: I’ve definitely had the, “What a relief. I don’t have to be the one who writes that.” I’ve also had, a few times now in my life, the feeling of, “Oh shit, that idea is a really good idea, and other people are going to have it too, so I need to get this thing out. I’m on a clock now. Now that I’ve had this idea, it is properly ticking.” The Serial Killers Convention in Sandman was that. I had the idea. I went, “Somebody else is going to be doing this if I don’t. I have to do it. I have to get it out. I can’t get it into Sandman for another 12 months. I don’t get to write it for a year from now.” I had to just hope nobody writes it in that intervening time.

Craig: There is a hundredth monkey syndrome thing that happens, where the moment something occurs to you, you do feel like it’s in the air now, clearly.

Neil: You know that the things that are out there add up to that. Terry Pratchett and I, after Good Omens, the thing that we actually plotted next, that was going to be our next novel, that then we decided we didn’t want to do, and then I was incredibly relieved, had that fabulous feeling of relief when I realized we didn’t need to do it any longer some years later, was the idea of a serial killer who hunts serial killers. We went, “Nobody’s done that. We need to have this kind of background. He has this, but he’s going after this… “ You knew that it was going to happen. You knew somebody was going to write it. Then there was a point where Terry was like, “I want to go and do another Discworld novel.” I’m like, “I’m busy with Sandman. Let’s let that one go.”

Craig: Then Thomas Harris comes along.

Neil: And Dexter.

Craig: Dexter, yeah. I guess that’s the thing.

John: [Crosstalk 01:13:25] that show.

Craig: See, this is actually an important lesson, because prior to Dexter, you have Hannibal Lecter. In my mind, as you’re talking, I’m thinking, oh, Hannibal Lecter’s a serial killer-

John: [Crosstalk 01:13:35]

Craig: … who helps them hunt serial killers. See, we’re probably too hard on ourselves, because the adage there aren’t new ideas is a thing. Maybe it’s possible that if I went back and started writing this novel, it would be so vastly different of an experience than Clyde Bruckman’s that nobody would give a shit.

Neil: Let me just say on that that I had plotted a Sandman story which wound up being called Game of You, and then I read Jonathan Carroll’s novel Bones of the Moon and went, “Fuck. That was my story. It’s the same thing, and you’ve just done that.” I love Jonathan Carroll. This is brilliant. I wrote to Jonathan Carroll, who I knew vaguely. I think we’ve met once. I just said, “I just want you to know I’m not doing this story because Bones of the Moon.” He wrote back, and he said, “Write your story. Write it. Tell it.” He said, “The job of a novelist, the job of a writer is to tell it new. Whatever it is, tell it new.”

Craig: Tell it new.

Neil: I thought, “Okay.” I wrote Game of You. By the end of it, Game of You wasn’t Bones of the Moon. It was its own thing. I was really pleased that Jonathan had said, “Go write it.

Craig: I don’t like where this is going. I don’t like where this is going at all.

John: Now Craig’s going to have to write a book, and we know writing books is terrible.

Craig: You’re sticking me back on some sort of hook for a thing I had merrily let myself free on. How dare all of you. This is very upsetting.

John: Craig, getting back to your notion of, if an idea doesn’t continue to excite me, then you just need to let it go, a thing I have found in my brain is that sometimes ideas will recognize, “Oh, John’s not paying enough attention to us by ourselves, but if we gang up together, we all come together, John will have to pay attention to us.” My movie The Nines is really three ideas that ganged up together like, “No, no, no, we can all be the same movie.” That became the thing. Part of why I actually write down the list and keep my little notes on stuff is so I can get those brain cycles not happening, because if you don’t write stuff down, your brain is responsible for remembering it. If you write stuff down, it gets it out of your head in a way that could be-

Craig: I haven’t had meningitis yet, so I feel like I’m going to be fine. Yet.

Neil: American Gods for me was one of those. American Gods was, I had this thing over here, and I don’t know what it is. I had these two characters, and they meet on a plane, and I don’t know who they are. I’ve got this thing here. Then one day, I just asked myself one weird little question about whether these Scandinavian explorers brought their gods with them when they came to America, and they left them behind when they left. Suddenly, all of these other things lined up behind. It was, “Oh, I have a story. I have a thing. It has legs. It’s moved from being a notion to being an idea to being a story.”

Craig: I love that. I love that at the heart of all of this is something that is common among – I’m not going to say writers, because I think that’s just too broad of a category – people who consistently write. How about this? We’ll call them people who consistently write. That is this constant desire. There’s a wanting, there is a need to tell a story. If you are currently in the middle of telling the wrong story, you may feel like, “I don’t like telling stories.” No, just don’t like telling this one. Go ahead and take a year off and see how that goes. It’s not going to go well. You will start again. We are defined by this hunger to tell a story. Inevitably, our brains do organize around something.

I think as I’ve gotten older, and I am running out of time – we’re all running out of time, rapidly probably – what I try to remember is the feeling of delight when I’m telling the story I’m supposed to be telling. If I don’t quite have that feeling of delight, then go ahead and sit on that egg a bit more. It’s not time.

Neil: The moment where you suddenly feel like you are the first reader, you’re typing even faster so that the words can get out, because you want to read them, and the magic is happening.

John: Maybe wrap this up on, I’m not sure how I feel about this, but this last week it was announced that James Patterson has finished a Michael Crichton novel that was not finished. It was not even clear how much of Michael Crichton’s novel was finished. Now they’re shopping the rights to this new James Patterson, Michael Crichton novel. In some ways, it makes me feel good, like, okay, maybe those things that I don’t actually finished, someone else can pick up and finish. I won’t feel like I’m abandoning these children. At the same time, I’m not going to be around to see it, so does it matter at all?

Neil: Bless him. I think James Patterson is a very sweet man, but I do not want him finishing anything that I’ve left unfinished, please. I go backwards and forwards on the Terry Pratchett thing of I want a steamroller to run over my laptop with everything, crush my hard disk, let everything be done. Then there’s part of me that goes, I don’t know, if I was three quarters of the way through a novel, and I had a heart attack, and it was a good book, there are definitely two or three of my friends I would happily say… I won’t say anything, because I’ll be dead, but I would not actually mind if my agent was to reach out to one of them and say, “Hey, do you want to finish this thing of Neil’s?”

Craig: That’s quite nice. It’s an interesting thing for writers to consider as they update their wills and trusts. Kafka lit quite a few of his manuscripts on fire. This is this self-destructive… It is an extension of some of the narcissistic aspect of what we do, which is, “I am God. I create a world. The world is designed by me, to my specifications. No other gods before me.”

In television or movies, you write something, and then other people are helping. There is a moment where somebody will show you something. “Here, I read what you wrote, and this is what I think it should look like.” It’s wrong, and it hurts. They didn’t try and hurt you. They’re trying to help you. They’re doing their job. They’re probably excellent at their job. But it’s wrong. It’s that thorn in the skin problem. It hurts. One thing that will deliver you from that pain is death, of course. I’d like the idea of maybe, in my will, going, “Okay, this one can go to that one. This one can go to that one.” But maybe also, I’ll try and finish things real fast before I croak. That’s probably the best method.

John: That’s all of our goals. Neil Gaiman, thank you so much for joining us on this Bonus Segment.

Craig: Thank you, Neil.

John: You’re the best.

Neil: Gentlemen, that was enjoyable as all hell. Thank you so much.

Links:

  • Neil Gaiman on Instagram and Twitter
  • Read Neil’s script for The Sandman #24
  • Starfield
  • An American Puzzle: Fitting Race in a Box
  • The Riddle of the Traveling Skull by Harry Stephen Keeler
  • Get a Scriptnotes T-shirt!
  • Check out the Inneresting Newsletter
  • Gift a Scriptnotes Subscription or treat yourself to a premium subscription!
  • Craig Mazin on Threads and Instagram
  • John August on Threads, Instagram and Twitter
  • John on Mastodon
  • Outro by Owen Danoff (send us yours!)
  • Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt and edited by Matthew Chilelli.

Email us at ask@johnaugust.com

You can download the episode here.

Scriptnotes, Episode 615: The Mind’s Eye, Transcript

November 9, 2023 Scriptnotes Transcript

The original post for this episode can be found [here](https://johnaugust.com/2023/the-minds-eye).

**John August:** Hello and welcome. My name is John August.

**Craig Mazin:** My name is Craig Mazin.

**John:** This is Episode 615 of Scriptnotes, a podcast about screenwriting and things that are interesting to screenwriters.

Today on the show, what are you seeing when you read or write or remember? We’ll talk about the importance of visualization for screenwriters, and the fact that some very successful writers can’t do it. We’ll also be answering some listener questions on choosing a medium and directors demanding writing credit. And in our Bonus Segment for Premium Members, what’s it like getting what you always dreamed of? We’ll discuss the pros and cons of answered prayers.

**Craig:** Oh, my. Answered prayers, oh, okay. We’re into the power of prayer on the show now. I like it.

**John:** Answered Prayers was I think the famously unfinished or unwritten book by Truman Capote. I always loved that as a title.

**Craig:** Apparently, his prayers to finish were not answered.

**John:** They were not answered. A little bit of a news hook this week. An article was in the Hollywood Reporter this past week talking about Marvel changing its whole television model, moving the way that they’re doing their series from the features division to an actual television division and really treating the TV shows more like TV shows. Craig, what did you make of this?

**Craig:** It was a little bit like reading about a restaurant that said, “You know what? We’re not going to make spaghetti anymore using beef. We’re going to use pasta.” Their method was… Look, I’m sure they felt it worked for them or that it was going to work for them. I think sometimes when a company is very, very successful, it can begin to embrace the delusion that everybody else is done and their way is always better, and sometimes break things, move fast, break things.

In the case of the way they were doing their television, it wasn’t working. It wasn’t working creatively, I don’t think, for a number of those shows, by their own admission, it seems. It also wasn’t working procedurally for the people that were working on the shows, neither writers nor directors. It was kind of good to see, but also a little bit like, yes, you mean you’re going to move to the way that the rest of us do it? Yeah. It works.

**John:** Yeah. Some of these changes will be actually calling the head writer the showrunner and making it clear that they are more the person responsible for the overall creative direction of the series, which makes sense. People always talk about television is a writer-driven medium. Thinking about the series not just as limited series, special events that have to work like movies work, but also thinking about the season-to-season, ongoing longevity of a series, it just makes sense.

**Craig:** To be clear, even though some of this is about empowering showrunners to be showrunners, the prior system wasn’t particularly great for directors either. Hopefully, this turn towards the normal will reap benefits for everybody involved, and of course for the audience too. Marvel is capable of making outstanding stuff. I have every reason to believe that this will go well for them.

**John:** I hope so too. Obviously, a lot of these things happened before the strike. In the story, they talk through some of the challenges these series were having and the issues they were facing with the way they were trying to make the stuff. It’s also worth noting that some of the changes that are going to be just put in place by the new Writers Guild contract would’ve had an impact anyway. In terms of going from a mini room situation to an actual writers’ room, that transition is different now. It’s more contractually mandated than it was before. If you’re going to make changes, this feels like the right time to make changes.

**Craig:** I suspect that the pause gave them a chance to evaluate, more than anything. Just having a few months to stop and say, “How are we doing this? And why are we doing it this way again? And why aren’t we doing it the other way that other people are doing it?” must have given them a little bit of perspective that they didn’t have before. It is helpful that we have new terms that will help them as they move towards the normal. But like you, I suspect the move towards the normal predated the contract.

I’ve never worked at Marvel. We’ve had Kevin Feige on the show. He’s a terrific guest on our show and obviously an incredibly powerful guy who’s overseen one of the most successful runs in Hollywood history, period, the end. I’m only talking secondhand, but my understanding was that there was this sense that it was the executives that ran the show. I find that the most valuable television executives not only don’t run the show, they’re not interested in running the show. What they’re interested in doing is being an advocate for their audience. More than anything else, their job is to say, “We’re supposed to reflect our audience’s taste. Here’s what we think about what you’re doing. Here’s a suggestion we have, a request we have, a question we have.” That what they’re best at. I don’t understand a world where executives are running shows. That’s not what they’re supposed to do. Seems like they’ve made the correction there. Very pleased to see it.

**John:** Obviously, a challenge with what Marvel was trying to do – and I’m sure they’re going to still be trying to do it, but maybe a little less a mandate and a focus – is their movies and their series were supposed to dovetail together in very specific ways. Things would be set up in a movie that would then pay off in a series and then go back to a movie. That’s really challenging to do. Dates shift. The needs shift. You’re trying to make each individual project the best it can possibly be. That’s very hard to do when they all have to fit together in a specific, magic way. I would not also be surprised if there’s going to be less of a focus on making sure everything pays off from this series to that movie to this next thing. Just that may not be the best way to make the best individual projects.

**Craig:** I’m probably going to get in trouble for saying this, but when has that ever stopped me?

**John:** It never has.

**Craig:** Never has. I feel like the universeness is smelling like a relic of the 2010s. I think as we are progressing into the 2020s, the whole extended something universe, it just feels kind of done. I don’t think the audience needs it. I think what they want is a good show or a good movie, really. I don’t know why everybody feels the need for everything to be interlocking that way. Yes, it helps you promote things, but nothing seemed to help the ones that didn’t work. I think just something good is good.

**John:** Good is good. Marvel was not the only entity making mistakes, apparently.

**Craig:** Segue man.

**John:** In this bit of follow-up here, we get to learn that actually, even I can make mistakes.

**Craig:** What?

**John:** Drew, can you help us out with this?

**Craig:** No, no, no. Don’t do this to me.

**Drew Marquardt:** Eliza writes, “On occasion, John misuses reticence and reticent. In the recent replay of Episode 463, John says, ‘Just to get over people’s initial reticence to read this different kind of scene description.’ Although reticence can seem like a fancy way to say reluctance, it’s not. Reticence is a reluctance to speak or share of one’s self. The words sound and function like cousins, but just like cousins, they are not interchangeable. Since John is so wordily wise, I couldn’t let him continue this spread of linguistic misinformation. But no one’s perfect, not even Duo SN.”

**Craig:** That’s right.

**John:** Eliza’s absolutely right. She’s right. I looked it up. I went back through the transcripts, and not only did I use it in 463, Episode 569 I said it wrong. I said, “I wonder if some people who would otherwise make shows are reticent to do so because they are just not social people and don’t want that responsibility.” I was using it as a synonym for reluctance. Instead, it is a very specific instance of reluctance. I’ve learned my lesson.

**Craig:** I want to say that I knew this and declined to say anything out of just the milk of human kindness. While I don’t think I’ve made this particular error myself, I also did not catch it when you said it. It just sort of flowed, and I didn’t notice it. By the way, if I did, here’s a question for you, John. Let’s say you do misuse a word. Do you like it when people correct you, or are you like, “Just shut up. Leave me alone.”

**John:** In a podcast situation that is fully editable, I think it’s fair for us to make those corrections. Occasionally, we will make those corrections, if a misstatement of fact. I’m glad to know that I was using this word incorrectly, and so I’m happy to have that be fixed.

A thing I’ve noticed about podcasts, listening to a lot of podcasts, is a lot of time you hear people use a word that they’ve never actually spoken aloud, like a word they’ve typed a lot but they’ve never actually spoken aloud, and they will mispronounce it. I find that fascinating. Sometimes I will look it up. It’s like, “Oh, that is an alternate pronunciation, so maybe it’s valid they did it that way.” But in many cases, they clearly just-

**Craig:** They didn’t know.

**John:** … didn’t know how to use the word in practice.

**Craig:** I’m not going to say I like it when people correct me, but I appreciate when they correct me. What I’ve noticed is, when people do correct me, I remember that correction much more vividly and reliably than I would if I, say, read it in an email. I still remember the screenwriter Stephen Schiff telling me that I was using comprise incorrectly. It’s very common to say, “This is comprised of blankety blank blank blank. This sandwich is comprised of peanut butter and jelly.” But in fact, comprise is a transitive verb. “This peanut butter sandwich comprises peanut butter and jelly.”

**John:** Comprises.

**Craig:** It contains peanut butter and jelly. I didn’t know that. He corrected me. I was like, “What?” He is correct. I’ve never forgotten it. I use comprise correctly all the time now.

**John:** I hear that, and also, I do wonder if it’s comprises and is comprised of. I bet if you actually were to look it up, “it is comprised of” is such a common usage that it’s become almost default usage. While I agree with Stephen Schiff that this is the actual, correct way to use it, in modern usage it’s not that. You and I, we haven’t fully given up on, but we’ve softened over the course of our 10 years of doing the podcast… You and I, over the course of the last 10 years, have argued about begging the question, and I’ve just sort of given up trying to point out when people are using it incorrectly.

**Craig:** It’s just me and Peter Sagal left now on that mountain, fighting hand to hand. I will never. Never! But yes, these little-

**John:** It’s always fun when you get a chance to use begging the question properly. It’s just delightful.

**Craig:** It is, and then no one knows what you’re talking about. There are certain orthodoxies that I think are just enjoyable unto themselves. Certainly, I guess this is unlike Stephen Schiff, if I hear somebody say, “It’s comprised of blankedy blank,” I don’t say anything, because I don’t know them. Stephen knows me, so he knows I’m going to enjoy it. But a lot of people are like, “Just shut up.”

**John:** I think what you’re pointing out though is, it’s pedantic if you don’t know the person. If you don’t have a relationship, then pointing it out is pedantic. If it’s Craig or Drew, you talking to me, saying, “Oh, John, you’re actually using the word incorrectly,” that’s not pedantic, that’s actually delightful and helpful.

**Craig:** Yeah, exactly. Great.

**John:** Craig, back in Episode 612, you talked through your diabetes diagnosis, and we have some follow-up on that.

**Drew:** James writes, “My mother was diagnosed with diabetes later in life than you, and no one thought to check out the state of her pancreas. Unfortunately, her doctors assumed it was type 2, and consequently, they missed discovering its underlying cause, which, unfortunately again, was pancreatic cancer. It might be worth listeners being aware of this. The people are getting fat and lazy narrative is too often relied upon.”

**Craig:** I am so glad that James wrote in about this. I am kicking myself, because when we talked about my diagnosis, which is this adult-onset type 1 diabetes, one of the things I failed to mention and should’ve mentioned is that there are two typical causes of certain elevated antibodies. One is type 1 diabetes, and the other is pancreatic cancer. In fact, we had to check that out for me to make sure that that’s not what it was. I don’t know why it slipped my mind, but it is absolutely true that it’s going to be one or the other, typically, when you have these certain elevated enzymes. Pancreatic cancer is brutal. It’s just a killer.

James has put forth one of the best arguments for antibody testing when dealing with evidence of diabetic pathology. I don’t care what age you are. If they tell you that you are prediabetic even or diabetic, you have to talk to them about testing these antibodies to see if indeed you are type 2 diabetic or if you are either type 1, which is a different treatment, or if you have hopefully what would be a very early stage of pancreatic cancer. Sorry to hear about what happened to James’s mother. I am terrified to imagine how many people this has happened to, but I suspect a lot. A lot.

**John:** One more bit of follow-up here.

**Drew:** Christopher writes, “I appreciated your openness in sharing your story about diabetes. It resonated with me, as I was also diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder as an adult, and similarly, only after a thoughtful doctor ordered proper testing. The diagnosis changed a great many things, but many months after life leveled out and I started feeling like myself again, I realized I was now one of around 27% of Americans who have a disability. And I mention this only because I didn’t hear you use that particular D-word during the conversation.

“I realize that being a straight white man with an invisible disability is complicated, but still, that shouldn’t be a reason to deny or minimize your experience. In my case, I initially dismissed the idea of being part of the disabled community, because I had always considered myself perfectly able-bodied and physically fit, and it felt incongruous with my identity to change that as an adult. I took great inspiration, however, from your episode with Jack Thorne. His advocacy motivated me to make some overtures to other disabled individuals to see if it was a place in which I fit. What I found was perhaps the most accepting group of people who I have ever encountered. None of them ever questioned my place among them or seemed dismissive of one’s struggles relative to another’s. We were all in it together.

“Publicly being willing to identify as disabled is a big step, and I’m not sure if you fully realized that when you volunteered the information about diabetes, that this is part of what you are doing. Going forward, it might feel a little ridiculous to say things like, ‘I am a disabled person,’ or check the accompanying box on standardized employment forms, but I encourage you to do so whenever possible. Put simply, when you identify as disabled, you naturally encounter more disabled people. You share stories together, and everyone’s experience is better off for it. We learn from and support each other most when we directly engage. You have already always demonstrated empathy in your work and a desire to be inclusive, so you should allow others the courtesy and opportunity to extend the same to you as well. Thanks for being so brave and sharing your experience with the Scriptnotes audience.”

**Craig:** Christopher, fascinating. I must admit, when I saw this statement here, the first thing I thought was, is it a disability? Obviously, we know diabetes is a disease, but is it also a disability? I went to the Googles, and the Googles sent me to the American Diabetes Association. And they have a page that says the following. “Is diabetes a disability? The short answer is yes. Under most laws, diabetes is protected as a disability. Both type 1 and type 2 diabetes are protected as disabilities. People with diabetes can do any type of job, sport, or life goal.”

That got me thinking about what Christopher was saying, because there are some bioethics here. Disability we can look at as a binary question, which I think is sort of the way Christopher is approaching it. Either you are disabled or you’re not. I’m saying all this to explain why I didn’t use the word disability. It wasn’t even a choice. It just wasn’t something that seemed in my brain to align with what was going on. It may be because I don’t necessarily see it as a binary, but more as a continuum. There are places you get to where, yeah, it’s a thing. Look, if I’m walking around with an insulin pump and I need time at work to go and change the pump or replace a tube, yeah, then I’m a disabled person who needs an accommodation to do my job. People around me need to be aware of that.

The question is, right now, given where I’m at, should I be checking that box, as he says, or not? The balance here is, am I going to be taking resources or opportunities from someone else who has a more impactful disability than mine, because there are some disabilities that are more impactful than others.

My instinct is, currently, Christopher – and I appreciate what you’re saying, and I thank you for it – but I don’t think that I’m comfortable checking that box yet, because I don’t need to. I don’t think I need any accommodations right now, and I’m very wary about taking them from somebody else who does. If anyone says, “Look, I have a disability. I want to check the box,” check the box. I have zero problem with that. But I guess this is mostly me explaining why I didn’t say it, because I don’t necessarily think I’m there yet. What do you think? This is a tricky one, John. What do you think?

**John:** I think you’re right that it’s tricky and that it’s hard to have blanket advice here. Looking back at Episode 530, we had Jack Thorne, and he was talking about how as somebody with an invisible disability, he’s had it hard to speak up for himself and advocate for himself. Then he’s really talking about the importance of having a disability advisor as part of a production, just to make sure that anybody who’s involved in production, be it cast or crew, feels like they have a person who they can go to, to talk about the accommodations they may need or to help them think ahead for a production going forward, which is great and smart. In the UK, they’ve been able to enact some of those rules, which is great.

I hear you, Craig, in terms of, I think the choice of how you identify is a personal choice. It applies to disability, but it also applies to many other issues. The fact that you have a diagnosis doesn’t necessarily, to me, mean that you have a responsibility or a requirement to identify as that diagnosis. I just want to make sure that we always leave space for people to say what they want to say about their situation.

**Craig:** Look, I have no doubt I’ll get there. Clearly, I don’t have any shame about it, because I talk about it on the show, nor do I think anyone who has diabetes, type 1 or type 2, none of them should have any shame. On that front, I agree. If Christopher’s point is you shouldn’t be ashamed, shame shouldn’t keep you from identifying as disabled, I completely agree, 100%. There may be other things, but shame is not a good reason. You do not need to feel shame about having any disease or disability.

**John:** Pulling back a little bit, I think your ability to publicly identify as what you want to identify as feels like a fundamental right. I just want to make sure that whether we’re talking about disability or someone’s gender, sexuality, or ethnic background, you are going to present yourself in the world a certain way, but you also should have some measure of autonomy in what you are saying about yourself. I just want to make sure we always leave space for people to be themselves and to speak up how they want to speak up. I honestly hear you, Craig, too, in terms of you don’t want to pull resources away from folks who may need more accommodation than you. It’s tough.

**Craig:** I certainly want to do my part to protect the workplace for people who need accommodations, but we do live in a world with limited resources and limited opportunities. I think we all understand if there is special consideration or opportunity for people of a certain class, I think we all understand that that protected class, that’s about helping people who really do need the help. It’s not simply about helping people who satisfy some superficial criteria. Steve Wynn, the guy who owns Encore, did he die?

**John:** Yeah.

**Craig:** I can’t remember. I think he died. But he was blind.

**John:** He was blind.

**Craig:** Did he need special financial accommodations? Probably. He was a billionaire. Yeah, I’m sure he did. Should he be getting grant money and such? I don’t think so. I think it’s reasonable to do a needs analysis, especially when we’re dealing with limited resources for a lot of people.

**John:** Agreed. Our last bit of follow-up is related to Episode 610, where we talked about what do studios actually do.

**Drew:** Mallory writes, “How do successes like Sound of Freedom and the Taylor Swift movie figure into the major studios being the only route to successful distribution?”

**John:** These are two examples of movies that were made outside of the traditional studio system. I guess Sound of Freedom was actually made inside the studio system, but then that got released outside of the studio system. Of course, the Taylor Swift movie is making a bazillion dollars. It was just self-financed and put together. I think there have always been those oddities of things that were just done outside the system, but when we’re talking about alternatives to the studio system, it’s really about an ongoing basis, not just one-off projects.

**Craig:** First of all, Sound of Freedom, the success is in dispute, because-

**John:** It’s a real question of how many people were actually in the theaters watching that versus buying tickets.

**Craig:** That’s right. Hard to say exactly. But yeah, there have always been these strange things. In the case of Taylor Swift, she really is an independent film studio. She has enough money to finance… I think it was $20 million budget. What that means is that she can finance anything and then release it however she wants. She’s also her own studio, because she can advertise and promote her own material. She goes on tour, and that’s how that works. Taylor Swift is her own business empire. That makes sense that she can compete with movie studios.

The major studios are not the only route to successful distribution. I don’t think we’ve ever said that. There are independent studios that do it. There are one-offs. We find them notable for a good reason, because they’re rare. Really, I guess the position that I’ve had, that I’ll maintain, is that major studios are, generally speaking, the most effective and most prominent way to distribute a film.

**John:** Yeah. In that episode, we talked about how, obviously, the studio is bankrolling things, but they’re also providing the marketing function. They’re providing the collection of funds function. Sound of Freedom, it made a lot of money. Did it actually pull that money back out of theaters? That’s going to be a little bit more challenging for them, because they don’t have the next movie coming down the pipe to say, “Okay, we’re not giving you the next thing until you pay up what you owe us.” Same with Taylor Swift. Apparently, it’s a deal with AMC Theaters, which was probably the bulk of the incoming money. But shaking that money back and bringing it home will be more challenging for her company than it would be for Sony, because she has no next thing coming out.

Obviously, the Sound of Freedom marketing function and the viral way they were able to make that happen was exactly perfect for their movie. Taylor Swift is her own marketing machine, so she didn’t need that function of the studio.

**Craig:** Correct. And she was smart, because what Taylor Swift, who is overtly, apparently a savvy businessperson, understood was that distributing the movie through a studio was going to cost way more than it would earn her. Way more. The studio’s cut is massive. Why do you need to go have a bank finance the purchase of your car if you are a billionaire and you want to buy a car? Don’t. Just buy it.

**John:** Just buy the car.

**Craig:** Just buy the damn car.

**John:** Our marquee topic this week stems from a series of tweets that John Green, the bestselling author, put out at the start of the month. He’s the author of The Fault in Our Stars, Looking for Alaska. Some of these books have become movies and series. His tweets read, “It’s baffling to me that some of y’all see stuff in your mind. You see it? The way your eyes see? I always thought visualize meant thinks of the words, ideas, feelings associated with the thing, not actual visuals. This may be why I’m so often wrong about what’s behind a particular cabinet in our kitchen, even though I’ve lived in this house for a decade. I also cannot tell you the layout of a room unless I’m in that room and looking at the layout. And I have no sense of direction. None.”

Somebody writes in the Twitter thread, “So when you’re reading, does it turn into a movie? Can you see the characters?” He says, “No, it’s just text. Very occasionally – I count the number of times it’s happened on one hand – I will suddenly feel as if I can glimpse something visually that’s in a story, but 99.99% of the time, it’s just text. Is that unusual?” And it is unusual, but it’s not actually unprecedented. It’s actually more common than I thought.

We’re not a science podcast, so aphantasia as a condition is not a thing we’re going to go into much detail about. But it’s hard for me as a writer to envision myself being able to do my work without being able to visualize. I thought we’d spend a few minutes talking about visualization as part of our process.

**Craig:** It’s an incredibly important part of my process. I can see how if you were aphantasic, being a novelist wouldn’t necessarily be problematic. The reason we who write for screen I think really do rely on our ability to visualize is because somebody’s going to have to actually make it.

Also, we are writing things for people to portray and act in three-dimensional space. Where are they standing? This is the great Lindsay Doran question that she would ask all the time when I wrote a script with her. Where is he standing? Where are they standing? How big is the room? How do they get from here to here? Describe the space, because there are going to be a thousand meetings where someone is going to have to figure out how to build that thing. The more you can see…

You may not be able to put every detail down on page. First of all, it’s not advisable to do so. Second of all, you just won’t have the room. The more you know, the more you can answer the question, and also the more internally consistent the work will be, because a scene is written in a space, and the scene follows the rules of that space. It doesn’t just change in the middle of the scene. For me, not only is it important, but it’s kind of essential. If I can’t see the space, I can’t start to write the scene.

**John:** 100%. I think one of the reasons why people may not immediately click to that in terms of screenwriting is because we’re not describing the whole space. Sometimes we are more, but sometimes it’ll be a slug line. It’ll say interior house, this, and it may give a little painting of what the space is like. But even if I’ve not put out all that scene description there, I have to, in my head, know where this scene is.

The first step of writing a scene for me is literally creating the space in which the scene happens, figuring out roughly the layout of the room, wherever this is, putting people in that space, figuring out their general blocking, and only then do I start being able to observe what are they doing, what are they saying, what is the movement, how does it all work. I call this looping in my head. I’m just seeing the scene play out. I can’t imagine writing a scene without that. If I’m doing a surgical rewrite on someone else’s script, I do need to build that space out in my head, or else I can’t do it.

It may have been Aline who said it first on our podcast, the joke that the screenwriter’s the only person who’s already seen the movie. Yeah, I’ve definitely already seen the whole thing before I’ve put it down on paper.

**Craig:** Oh yeah, I’ve seen it. This is this thing that’s happened to me a thousand times. When I get to a set or a place, everything’s always the other way. I don’t know why.

**John:** 100%, yeah.

**Craig:** It’s always the other way.

**John:** The phone is on the wrong side of the bed. How could you not know that?

**Craig:** It is so routine that I just laugh, and everyone’s like, “Wrong side?” I’m like, “Yeah.” Obviously, it’s not relevant. If it were relevant, I would make a point of it. The episode with Bill and Frank, I had their house in my head. This was the entrance. That’s where the dining room. That’s where the kitchen is. When you walked in the front door, the dining room was on the right, and then the kitchen was through the door, past there. And when I got their plan, they had put it on the left. They put it on the left for a reason. I couldn’t remember what it was. It had to do with something and building and blah blah blah. Every time without fail. Without fail, every single time. I think I’m very good at visualizing things, but I visualize them in the opposite direction from everybody else. The chirality is off.

But yeah, it’s essential. It’s just essential. Also, visualizing spaces allows you to write beyond the limitations of dialog. It gives you what are actors looking for, how to use the space, how to move through the space, picking objects up, what does it smell like, what is the humidity in the air, what do they lean against, can they tap their fingers on something that makes a sound, all of these things that you could do. None of them are there and accessible to you as you’re writing a scene if you can’t see the space. For what we do, I think it’s essential.

**John:** You said at the start that as screenwriters, obviously that visual thing is so important, but in writing the three Arlo Finch books, I would say that visualization was just as crucial to me, the ability to not only see what Arlo’s house was like and what the layout was and know where everything was in that place, but also what it sounded like, how the floorboards squeaked, and in the book, what did things smell like, what was the texture of stuff, how did things taste. In my head, I can do all those things. I can create tastes that I’m not experiencing. I can create smells that I’m not smelling. That was really important for me in writing those books, to just really ground you in what those spaces were, which in books have more than just what you see and what you hear. John Green is a very successful novelist who’s done all this without the ability to do that.

He’s not the only very successful person who has this condition. Ed Catmull, who’s a big Pixar director and animator, he has that same kind of mind blindness. Some very successful architects have it too. That doesn’t seem possible to me. Just me thinking about how my brain works is that these very, very visual people can’t see things in their head. They actually have to do it on paper to see the thing. That’s true. Clearly, the condition is a spectrum. They have a rating here from one to five. We’ll include it in the show notes. It’s not a disorder. It’s just a situation, like left-handedness. It’s not anything is necessarily wrong. It’s just that most people can visualize, and some people can’t.

**Craig:** Oh, I think there’s something wrong with lefthanded people.

**John:** Yeah, disaster.

**Craig:** Something needs to be done. We gotta get our country back, John.

**John:** This is just a wild theory I’m going to throw out there, and maybe somebody has tested this. I don’t feel a particularly compelling need to rewatch movies. Given a choice between rewatching a movie and watching a new movie, I’ll always watch a new movie. I wonder if some people who compulsively rewatch movies, it’s because they actually can’t see the movie in their head, and so the only way they can experience the movie is actually watching the movie, versus me, I can pull up any scene in one of my favorite movies and I can see the picture. I can tell you exactly what it is. I remember what direction characters are facing. A person who doesn’t have this visualization ability, it’s not just they can’t imagine new things. They can’t pull up memories of old spaces and times.

**Craig:** That may be true. If The Godfather comes on, I’m watching it, most Tarantino movies, and I can remember them. I can play them back. I can play back the entire scene where Samuel L. Jackson is yelling at Frank Whaley. I know where everyone is. But I still like watching it, because it’s fun.

**John:** I do wonder if down the road, algorithms will be able to figure out who is aphantasic, because it seems like the word choices we’re using and how we’re describing things ultimately may reveal… The same way they could figure out that Robert Galbraith was actually JK Rowling. I do wonder if there are certain patterns in people’s usages that will point to what’s actually happening inside their heads.

**Craig:** This is the next frontier, interfacing directly between our brains and the hardware that our brains have devised and created. I don’t know if I want to stick around for it or if I want to check out. I don’t know. The next few years are going to be nuts.

**John:** Ryan Knighton, a friend of the show – he’s been on a couple times – is a blind writer. He once had vision, but he lost his vision in his early 20s. I do notice that in talking with him and emailing with him, he uses visual words all the time. He was like, “I see what you’re saying. I’ll have a look.” He’s still using those things. I haven’t talked to him about this recently, whether in his writing he’s still seeing things in his mind, or if it is just all metaphorically seeing things rather than actually visualizing stuff.

**Craig:** I’m sure we have blind listeners. I’m curious. If we do have blind listeners who have been blind from birth, so they’ve never seen, I suspect they are doing some kind of internal visualization. Not all of them. Maybe some of them are also aphantasic. But what is happening for blind folks when they visualize things? Are they visualizing them based on the heard description or the read description? Curious. I’d love to know.

**John:** It’s good to see. Related, also there’s the phenomenon that some people don’t have internal monologues. They don’t hear things in their head. Sure. Again, there’s nothing wrong, but it’s just really unusual. I can’t imagine not being able to preview a conversation, not being able to have some ongoing chatter in your head.

**Craig:** I don’t actually hear it, hear it, but it’s there.

**John:** For sure. Let’s get on to some listener questions. Drew, help us out.

**Drew:** Oh, I feel the umbrage clouds on the horizon on this first one.

**Craig:** Here we go.

**Drew:** Greenhorn writes, “I’m a repped screenwriter but rather in limbo at the moment, since I’m switching reps, and I don’t have the appropriate person to speak to right now. A few years ago, I was introduced to a second unit director who has worked on some big movies. He’s looking to make his directing debut, so I pitched him a few ideas. One of them he loved, so I worked up a four-page outline and was in touch with him through that process. Indeed, he gave some feedback along the way, but to be frank, his contributions were minimal. The idea, title, characters, story, and set pieces are all mine. And indeed, every word on the existing document was written by me. As far as I understand, I am therefore the writer. All this writing I did pre-strike, by the way.

“He called me last week to say he just pitched the idea verbally to a major studio who love it and who want to see the outline. But he’s saying that he’ll only pass it on if I say he co-wrote it. This doesn’t feel fair, let alone true. From the conversation we had on the phone, I know that he’s doing this out of fear of the studio buying it from me and then just hiring a more experienced director to replace him.

“I’ve told him that the solution to this is for him to just option the project from me. I also told him that it isn’t fair for him to try to claim co-writer credit. He has responded petulantly and with a hostile tone, doubling down on his claim to being co-writer. And more worryingly, he said he’s now pitched the idea to another studio. But even though I’ve asked him, he won’t say which. I’m now concerned to protect my idea, since it’s the kind of high-concepty, laugh-out-loud kind of idea which you can imagine suspiciously resurfacing at a studio a little later down the line. And there’s no paper trail if he’s pitching verbally and indeed refusing to tell me where he’s pitching. So my questions: am I right to deny his claim to co-writer credit? And short of getting a lawyer on the case, how best do you reckon I respond to him while I don’t have a new rep yet?”

**John:** Greenhorn, a couple things to do right away, and then we can also probably back up to more general advice. I thought Greenhorn’s suggestion of, “You could option it from me, and that’s a way to attach yourself more fully to it,” that makes sense. He should’ve said yes to that. But he didn’t say yes to that. Now you’re concerned that he’s going to, having gone out to pitch this to different places, he’s going to try to set up this idea without you. That seems kind of like a thing he might try to do. This is a time where you actually need to make sure your outline, your four-page thing is actually… I would say actually register it with the Copyright Office, which we don’t often say. But you do need to protect yourself here and make sure that it’s clear that this really was your idea. You also have all the emails back and forth between the two of you. It sounds like there’s emails. That’ll also be in your defense. But you don’t want to be going into this planning for a lawsuit down the road. You want to stop this now if you possibly can. Craig, I’m curious what you think he should be doing right now.

**Craig:** Right now, we’re dealing with crisis management. Let’s jump in our time machine first and talk about what should Greenhorn have done. You pitched this idea that you had, and then you wrote an outline. Now, by the way, we’re not talking about an idea. Now we’re talking about a unique expression in fixed form. Now we have-

**John:** Literary material.

**Craig:** … literary material. “He just pitched the idea verbally to a major studio who love it.” I don’t believe him, by the way. Don’t believe him. I’m just going to say that right away, Greenhorn. Do not believe that.

**John:** He’s lying to you in other ways, so he’s probably lying about this.

**Craig:** “Verbally to a major studio who love it and want to see the outline.” They love it? Really? “But he’ll only pass it on if I say he co-wrote it.” Now, at that point, Greenhorn, I would have lawyered up, right then and there. I wouldn’t have offered options or anything. I’m like, “That’s it. You’re out. You’re done. Bye,” because he didn’t co-write it at all. That’s not what he did, nor do I understand why he needs to.

Greenhorn, your theory is that he wants to do this so that they can’t kick him off the project. They kick writers off of projects way easier than they kick directors off. They kick writers off of features on a daily basis. They hate kicking directors off of features. So, no, that’s not going to help him at all. At all. This is just lame. It’s not even a discussion, by the way. It’s literally not even a discussion. I’m sure he is petulant and hostile. Don’t care.

He’s a second unit director, so what do I know? I know then that he does not have experience necessarily developing material with writers as a first unit director. Second unit directors, by the way, are incredibly important, and the best ones are remarkably skilled, so in no way am I undermining what they do. They are necessary and amazing, but they do what they do.

**John:** We should say for our listeners who may not know, second unit directors generally, particularly on bigger action movies, they are filming a lot of this stunt work. They’re doing a lot of stuff that doesn’t involve the principal actors doing the main scenes. Every action movie you’ve seen has had an amazing second unit director doing that stuff. In television, they’re also doing a lot of pickup stuff for things that aren’t being hit by the main unit, so they’re crucial to things, but these are not people who are generally doing big storytelling scene work kind of things.

**Craig:** Yeah. If you go to a movie and you see a big car chase, all the shots where they’re cars, so not inside the car… Mark Wahlberg’s inside the car. The director, the first unit director is directing Mark Wahlberg inside the car. He’s going, “Whoa. Huh.” All the other stuff, zoom, ram, rah, crash, smash, that usually is the second unit director. Second unit directors sometimes are also stunt coordinators, because they are shooting fight sequences and things like that. The guys that went on to make John Wick were stunt coordinators who operated second units and then moved up to make John Wayne. It can happen, but it sounds like this particular second unit director does not have experience working with writers developing things, because if he did, he wouldn’t have said any of this.

Now, John is right, you should submit your work to the Copyright Office, and then you should call a lawyer. Now I know you say, “In short of getting a lawyer in the case,” but this is the frustrating part, Greenhorn. Sometimes I feel like John and I have a medical show, and people write in and say, “I’m bleeding out of my butt. Short of going to a doctor, what do you reckon I do with this?” You’re like, “I think you need to go to the doctor. You’re bleeding out of your butt.” You’re sort of bleeding out of your butt here. You need to go to a lawyer. It is going to cost money, but do you care or not?

The bottom line is, look, if you read about this thing happening in a newspaper, you can call a lawyer then and say, “Look, I’ve got this thing.” Then the lawyer will be like, “Great. Okay. I’m taking this on contingency, because it’s going to work, and we’re going to get money.” Or you can do it now. Personally, I would do it now. If that guy happens to be listening to this, if Greenhorn’s account is accurate, dude, act like you’ve been there before. This is ridiculous.

**John:** I would suspect Greenhorn’s lawyer will send a letter to this second unit director saying, “Stop misrepresenting your involvement in this project. To clarify, you did not write any of this project, and do not represent yourself as a writer on this project, and maybe don’t contact my client again.” There’s no salvaging this relationship. Greenhorn, I wouldn’t worry about trying to make good with the second unit director. You’re not going to end up in a happy place with this guy.

**Craig:** No. Also, to be clear, this guy is trying to sell property he doesn’t own. Once you start thinking about this like property, you can realize how offensive this is. He was like, “Hey, I want to be a car racer,” and you’re like, “Great. I like building cars. Here’s my plan to build a car.” Then he’s just going around going, to car companies, “I have a car that I made.” No. No. It’s not yours.

**John:** There are producers who are pitching projects they don’t own, but they are producers pitching projects they don’t own, and they’re not trying to claim that they are the co-writer on the project. That’s where they overstepped.

**Craig:** Correct. Also, producers that are pitching projects that they don’t write, generally speaking, have the consent of the writer. I’m not aware of any producer that’s going around there pitching IP that they have no association with. That’s just scumbag stuff.

**John:** There are a lot of scumbag producers who do that.

**Craig:** I guess that’s true. They’re scumbags.

**John:** Here’s the thing. They’re scumbags. This is a scummy thing to do.

**Craig:** Yeah, so lawyer up.

**John:** Sorry.

**Craig:** Sorry, Greenhorn. Lawyer up.

**John:** What else we got, Drew?

**Drew:** Ripley writes, “One struggle I continually have is what medium to write in. I feel with any idea I have, I can see how it would work as a cartoon or a horror feature or a comedy series. I’ve so far written a sci-fi comedy feature, an animated pilot, and a scattering of mostly drama shorts. I’m currently working on an idea that I’m on page 20 of and am still not sure what it is or should or will be. I suffer from ADHD and am often paralyzed with decision. I can see how a hundred different ways could work and never know how to narrow it down. Do you have any specific advice for this dumb issue?”

**John:** It’s not a dumb issue. I think a lot of people struggle with… I’m re-framing your question. It’s like, I don’t know what project I should write. Really, what it comes down to is you have a general story area, but you’re not sure what specific version of it you should write. That’s a really common situation. I think you just need to let yourself sit for a second, really think about what do you want to write. Is there a genre that particularly speaks to you, that you really enjoy writing, that you actually feel connection to? Is there something you’ve always wanted to try that you’ve not had a chance yet to do, that you want to experiment with? The things you write for yourself can truly be experiments. They’re a chance to take a flyer and see what works. Don’t be afraid to do that. Just try to be deliberate in your choices.

**Craig:** I think that’s excellent advice. I would only add this. Sometimes we struggle with the quantity of possible decisions, because we’re making the decisions kind of backwards. You have an idea, and then you say now, could be a cartoon, could be a horror, could be a comedy, could be animated, could be live, could be drama. Okay, sure, it could be a thousand things. We all have the same thousand things, so what’s the difference between people who are migrating firmly towards one thing, as opposed to you, Ripley, who are just like someone at Cheesecake Factory going through that massive menu, is that you are trying to stick that on top of what you’re doing. But it really shouldn’t be a decision. It should be a therefore.

You think about your idea, and you think about what the point of that idea is and what you’re trying to say with it and who you’re trying to reach, who you’re trying to talk to, and how you want them to feel. You think about all those things. As you think about them, it should begin to emerge that it would be best as blank. Anything that you and I have done could be a cartoon or a live action. Literally, Chernobyl could be a cartoon if you want it to. It wouldn’t be good, but you can do it. We make our choices for reasons. I think that’s the key is you need to figure out what it wants to be by asking what it is.

Sometimes the decision paralysis, and I’m not discounting the fact that you have an additional challenge because you have ADHD, but beyond that additional challenge, the reason you’re asking us is because you feel like, “Hey, I can get there.” I believe you can too, if you dig a little bit deeper into what exactly the thing is about. Then I think maybe you’ll have more clarity. I hope you will.

**John:** I agree. Looks like we have time for another question here.

**Drew:** Taylor from Arkansas writes, “I wrote an eight-page script that is part of an anthology feature film. The film is in post, and the producers are in talks with multiple streamers to buy it. I am not part of the WGA yet, and I cannot find on the WGA website how I should receive credit or maybe points. Any insight would be appreciated. To clarify, I wrote this script specifically for this film. These are not preexisting short scripts or films pieced together.”

**Craig:** Just to be clear, Taylor, at least this is how I’m reading your question, the project itself is a WGA-covered project. It’s just that you’re not in the WGA yet, I think.

**John:** Possibly. It’s not entirely clear from Taylor’s question. Let’s take that as the premise, and then we can modify at the end if we need to.

**Craig:** Taylor, you’re trying to figure out essentially how to qualify for full WGA membership, and indeed it works on a points system where certain kinds of work earn certain amounts of credits, like tokens, kind of, towards membership. And once you hit, I think it’s 24 of those, boom, you become a current member in good standing for, I think, seven years.

There is a manual that you can find on the WGA website, and we can, I’m sure, find a link for that that does show that. But you can also call the Membership Department at the WGA. They are there to help, because what you’re writing is a quirky little thing. It’s part of an anthology feature. Okay, so does this qualify as a short? Are you credited instead for the time you are employed? You need to call the WGA Membership Department and ask them this question, and they will give you the full answer.

**John:** Yes. Thinking about this project, whether it’s a WGA project or not a WGA project, your question of how you’re credited on the film is going to be relevant. I’ve seen anthology films where in the end, they list the different segments and then the writer and director of that segment and what the crew is, and they treat it like this was a bunch of shorts all put together. They may be an appropriate way of crediting writers in this project. Alternately, they could choose list all the writers together.

If it’s a WGA project, what’s going to happen is it’s going to be a list of participating writers, so you’ll be one of the participating writers in this, and then figure out how to assign credit. It’s tough in an anthology. Even having been on that committee, I’m not quite sure what the consensus decision would be, how they’re going to assign that credit. My guess is this is ultimately not going to be a WGA project, but we’ll see where it shakes out.

**Craig:** If it’s not a WGA project, then it doesn’t matter, Taylor, how much work you do. It’s not going to earn you towards membership. If it is a WGA project, the good news is, your credit credit, meaning written by or not, is actually irrelevant.

**John:** Absolutely.

**Craig:** It’s just employment. The question is, were you employed under a WGA contract? Even if you’re not in the WGA, if it is a WGA project, you have to be employed under a WGA contract. Let’s say that’s a yes. Then the next question is, what was the structure of that deal? Were you paid for time? Were you paid for a draft? Were you paid for a polish? What were you paid for? And then lastly, how long did that run for? Did you do two polishes? Did you do three rewrites? All of that stuff ultimately gets processed by the Membership Department.

Since we’re missing a whole bunch of details here, easiest thing would be for you to call the WGA. But don’t call them if this project is not covered by the WGA, because then it’s sort of like calling… You might as well call the US Post Office. We will have no more information or relevance to you if the production company is not signatory to the Writers Guild.

**John:** I would ask the producer or whoever it is who’s making the film whether it’s a WGA project. Also, take a look around as to who the other writers are. If none of the writers involved in the project are WGA writers, I think it’s a good guess that it’s not being done under WGA contract.

**Craig:** Agreed.

**John:** Cool. It’s time for our One Cool Things. My One Cool Thing is a series of, I think they’re originally TikToks, but I saw them on Instagram reels, by this comedian named Bonnie. I don’t know her last name. Her handle is Boobie Klapper, which is-

**Craig:** That was my handle.

**John:** That was your handle. The premise of these videos, it’s a class in teaching product packaging. It’s in that form where she’s talking to camera, but then she’s also playing the other two characters in this class. They’re really good. I’m going to play one little clip here so you get a sense of what this feels like.

**Bonnie:** Next on the list we have chips. They come in large bags, so most people aren’t going to eat the whole bag at once, and any exposure to moisture in the air will cause them to go stale. What are we going to package this in, you guys? Dylan?

**Bonnie as Dylan:** A resealable bag?

**Bonnie:** Good guess, Dylan, but no. Ruth?

**Bonnie as Ruth:** A non-resealable bag so that everybody has to buy other tools specifically designed to seal off the big gaping hole at the top?

**Bonnie:** That’s exactly right, Ruth. We want to create a headache so universal that an entire market of products emerges to try to address it. Well done.

**John:** She’s done this as a series, as an ongoing series of things. I just like the form of it. It reminds me of the Ikea cashier kind of thing. It’s just creating a premise and a situation, and the little three-man sketches are just the perfect way to manifest them. Loved it.

**Craig:** Excellent. My One Cool Thing is the most mundane One Cool Thing I’ve ever had. But John.

**John:** Yes?

**Craig:** I bought a whole bunch of socks.

**John:** You deserve socks.

**Craig:** I deserve them. I’ve always been just like, buy the white socks. I’m trying to spiff myself up. I want some colored socks. Dress socks are too thin. I don’t like the way they feel. They go too high on your leg. I like a comfy sock, but I also want a splash of color, John, so what do I do? I go to Uniqlo,Uniqlo in the Beverly Center, but they’re all over, of course.

**John:** They’re everywhere.

**Craig:** In the Beverly Center, they have a wall of socks, 5,000 different colors. The specific kind of sock, it’s called Uniqlo Colorful 50 Socks. I don’t know what the 50 stands for. Gotta be honest. Maybe they have 50 colors. I don’t know. Don’t care. They’re cheap. They’re comfy. They come in every possible color you can imagine. I bought a big mess of them. Secondary One Cool Thing. I get all these socks. I’ve never been to Uniqlo. By the way, I haven’t been to the Beverly Center in like 20 years.

**John:** Now that you’ve moved to our neighborhood, you’re closer to the Beverly Center.

**Craig:** There you go. I’m in there with Melissa. We bought our socks. She got something. I got a hoodie. All right. Great. So we have all of our stuff. Where do we go check out? Oh, no. All they have is self-checkout. That’s all they have. I’m like, “Ugh.”

**John:** Wow.

**Craig:** I have all these socks, because there was a deal where if you buy four pairs of socks, it cost $8, something stupid, which is great. We’ve got to scan all this. There’s a guy waiting there, and he goes, “Oh hey, have you used these before?” I’m like, “No.” He goes, “Okay. You just dump all your crap into this huge white bucket that’s connected to the machine, and that’s it.” John.

**John:** Amazing.

**Craig:** I am still freaked out by this.

**John:** Does everything have an RFID tag, which is how they know what it is?

**Craig:** No. They’re fricking socks. Here’s how the socks are packaged. There’s a sticker on them that you can peel off. Then there are these two little metal brackets to hold the socks together. That’s it. There’s nothing.

**John:** Does the sticker have an RFID [crosstalk 00:55:42]?

**Craig:** No. It’s a fricking sticker.

**John:** Wow.

**Craig:** Sometimes you could see inside, oh, there’s some sort of… No. I don’t understand what this machine is doing. We dumped in 20 pairs of socks, a hoodie, and a bra, and it somehow knew exactly what was in that bin instantly.

**John:** That’s incredible.

**Craig:** It’s amazing.

**John:** I like it.

**Craig:** I’m terrified.

**John:** When I was in Boston a couple weeks ago, I did buy something at Uniqlo, and the checkout was a hassle and a pain. I’m happy that they found some way to do it.

**Craig:** Get thee to the Uniqlo in Beverly Hills and try out this technology. It’s pretty remarkable. My One Cool Thing mostly is the socks, but secondarily-

**John:** Mostly the socks.

**Craig:** … the magic bin that knows what you bought.

**John:** I’m debating on how I think about this, because we mostly have white socks. We mostly wear white socks, and so we don’t have to match them. As we do laundry, any two socks are their pair. With colored socks, you do have to match the pairs. It’s not a huge hassle.

**Craig:** It’s really not. It’s really not.

**John:** I’m excited for your socks. You deserve colorful socks.

**Craig:** Thank you.

**John:** That’s our show for this week. Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt. It’s edited by Matthew Chilelli. Our outro this week is by Han Lundberg. If you have an outro, you can send us a link to ask@johnaugust.com. That’s also a place where you can send questions. You will find the show notes for this episode and all episodes at johnaugust.com. That’s also where you’ll find the transcripts and sign up for the weekly newsletter called Inneresting, which has lots of links to things about writing.

We have T-shirts and hoodies. They’re great. Someone actually wrote in specifically about the new Scriptnotes University hoodie and how much they love it. I’m so happy people love the hoodie. You’ll find them at Cotton Bureau. You can sign up to become a Premium Member at scriptnotes.net, where you get all the back-episodes and Bonus Segments like the one we’re about to record on getting the things you always dreamed of. Craig, thanks for a fun show.

**Craig:** Thank you, John.

[Bonus Segment]

**John:** Great. This had a prompt. Drew, somebody wrote in with a question for us.

**Drew:** Yeah, a photojournalist wrote in. She wrote, “Craig talks about his career and how he knew he could do something like The Last of Us but didn’t know or imagine he would ever be given the opportunity. I think about myself in a different industry. I spent years, jealously, I hate to admit, watching other people do what I wanted to do. I looked at their work and thought, ‘Just put me in, coach. I can do it.’ Then one day, while I was standing in the middle of a river, photographing migrants as they crossed into Mexico on their journey north, I had a realization that after 10 years of hard work, I’d made it to the opportunity I’d always hope I’d be given. And for a moment, it was like getting a case of vertigo, like glancing down while you’re extraordinarily high on a very dangerous mountain climb and suddenly realizing where you are. Can y’all talk about if you ever had that moment and how you emotionally reassured yourself so that you didn’t suddenly lose your footing and tumble back down from where you came?”

**John:** Oof.

**Craig:** Heavy.

**John:** I have a lot of stories, anecdotes, and related feelings about that. I became successful pretty early on in my career. I got my first movie made. I definitely remember walking up to set for the first day of Go! and thinking, “Wow, there’s all these trucks around. Oh, these trucks are for my movie. Oh, crap, I’m making a movie.” I felt like I wasn’t worthy to be there, and overwhelmed that I was going to be found out. There’s definitely a lot of imposter syndrome, and then realizing, “Oh, no, actually, I do know how to do this. This is going to be fine. This is going to be okay,” and a series of those sort of steps, like being on set for my first TV show and all those issues, being around famous people and being in those rooms and realizing, “Oh, this is sort of the dream. This is what I’ve always wanted. It’s kind of what I thought it would be, but also just a lot of hard work.” Craig?

**Craig:** It’s an incredibly common thing, and I think if you don’t experience it, you might be a sociopath. It’s pretty normal to think, “Wait, I’m the thing that I was dreaming of being. If I was dreaming of it, then I shouldn’t be it. That’s why it was a dream. Now what do I do?”

There’s a couple of things that hopefully will help. One is, at some point you begin to realize, I haven’t changed at all. The key is, like you said, “Okay, I had made it to the opportunity I had always hoped I would be given.” That’s a great way of putting it. What you didn’t say, and I’m glad for it, photojournalist, is, “I became a success.” You’re the same person. The circumstances around you are changing.

But one thing that’s happening is a re-balancing of the karmic scales. You’re being evaluated in a different way. Sometimes it’s not fair. Particularly early on in our careers, we can be discounted. Later on, we may be over-counted. There’s this thing that happens where suddenly you can do no wrong, until of course you do. Then it’s important to remember again, I haven’t changed; the circumstances have. The way the world evaluates you is not necessarily your worth. It almost always isn’t. It’s important to remember you’re the same person. That’s good news. What it means is what you were doing then, which they might have looked down on, came from the same brain as what you’re doing now. Keep that continuity in mind.

I run into this all the time when I’m doing interviews for press for our show. I can’t tell you how many times, a million, someone has said, “You used to make comedies, and now you do this. What? How? What? How?” I’m like, “Okay, here we go again.” See, have you never met anyone? You never met anyone who was a funny person who also felt sad sometimes or got angry or about something or had moments of seriousness? Do you think that Jim Carrey walks around all day like he’s in Liar, Liar? What? What do you mean? We hold multitudes with ourselves. But it’s hard for people. I understand why they ask me this question, because they evaluate us by what we do and then imagine that we had to change to do this thing. We did not. They did. They had to change.

Just reconnect with the consistency of who you are, and the fact that when you were doing the things that you were like, “I’m doing this for money. I wish I could have better opportunities,” that you did that work well enough to get you into this place, where people are now giving you the opportunity to do this. Just keep doing the work. Keep growing. Always be humble. Always remember you can get better, always. Study the people that do what you do, and do it so beautifully that you love it.

And never lose that excitement for other people’s good work. That’s so important. You see somebody else crushing it. Okay. You said you used to be jealous. Fine. But now you are where you are. Stop being jealous. Start appreciating it, because it makes you better when you see these things. It makes you better. You learn. It inspires you to up your game, which is fantastic.

Then don’t worry too much about the fact that you are, like you said, on a very dangerous mountain climb. You’re not. There is no mountain. There is just this long walk that we begin when we’re born, and we end it when we die. The walk is going well for you. Keep walking. Keep looking at it.

**John:** In the initial setup for this, I said answered prayers, that sense of, oh, you had this wish, this hope, this dream. You were a protagonist in the story. You had this vision of what you wanted to achieve. In that vision of what you want to achieve, you probably had markers and milestones and, “Oh, if I’ve done this thing, then I will have made it.” In the case of you as a photojournalist, if you’re being hired and sent off on these assignments to do these things, that’s great. In the case of people who want to make movies and TV shows, you’re on set, you’re at the premiere, where you have those pinch me moments.

The same way Craig was saying you’re still the same person, I think one of the dangers is that in that vision, in that prayer you put out there, you were going to achieve these things, and in achieving these things, you were going to be happy. You were going to feel good about yourself. You were going to feel like you were worthy, that life would be good. I think one of the things you notice over time is that the most successful people you end up meeting in their fields aren’t necessarily the happiest. In many cases, they are not happy. We know many very successful people who are kind of miserable.

There’s a certain thing that happens when you’ve achieved that success and, “Wait, I should be happy, but why am I not happy?” I can point to all these things that I have achieved, and yet I still feel like a miserable failure.” I think you’ve got to make sure that you are aware that some success, financial success, career success, the accolades of others, they feel good. They’re useful, but they are not going to fundamentally affect your own self-perception or your ability to feel good about yourself, and in some cases, that kind of success can only emphasize and magnify those feelings until you become kind of monstrous. Just be aware of that too. Success is not going to make you happy. That’s a crucial thing to remember.

**Craig:** It’s not going to change you fundamentally. It’s not going to cure your shame issues. They will still be there. Everything that John just said is really important to understand. We, especially in American culture, imagine that there is a win. It’s not really that way. Here’s the best news, I guess, is that when you become a success at the thing that you are compelled to do, because I assume, photojournalist, there are days where you’re like, “Oh my god, it’s hot, and I don’t want to go out there,” but also, “Oh, if I see that, I got to get my camera.” Okay, there’s the compulsion. That’s the way I am with writing. That’s the way John is. You’re compelled to do this thing. When you achieve a certain amount of success, it becomes easier to pursue your compulsion. It doesn’t become happier. It doesn’t become simple. You will still have moments where it hurts. You’re going to be doing it anyway, and now it’s gotten easier to do, because you can focus more on it. You don’t have to worry as much about other things, like paying the bills, being kicked out of a house, food, medicine, health care. Those things get solved by success, so that you can concentrate on the work you do.

With success also comes opportunities to work with better people. Working with better people is the instant Hamburger Helper to doing better work. Let’s say I get a call from Martin Scorsese. I haven’t, by the way, and I’m stunned. But let’s say he did, and he’s like, “Craig, I want to make a movie with you,” in his fun, fast-talking way. I would get better as a writer working with Martin Scorsese. How could I not? That’s exciting. There are all these benefits to success, but none of them include happy. That’s not the end result here.

**John:** Looking at this last paragraph here, she writes, “For a moment, it was like getting a case of vertigo, like glancing down while extraordinarily high on a very dangerous mountain climb and suddenly realizing where you are.” What I hear in that is also fear of loss, loss aversion, like, “I made it to this place, and now it’s all perilous, because I could fall from this high of place. I worry about losing it all.” I definitely see that happening among some of our peers. They’re really worried about, “If I don’t maintain this pace, if I don’t maintain this level of success, it’s all going to come crashing down.”

I think over the course of our 10 years, we’ve tried to be consistent about saying, “Listen, be ready to be successful. Here’s some things to be thinking about when you actually achieve some financial success, when you achieve some career success, but you can’t let that paralyze you, and you can’t get stuck or trapped in this way of thinking.”

Craig, that’s one thing I want to commend you for is that you were a successful comedy writer, you weren’t happy doing it, and you said, “Listen, I’m not going to worry about losing my status as a comedy writer. I’m going to do some other stuff here and scratch the itches I actually really have.” I would say the same to Photojournalist. Don’t worry too much about losing what you have. Keep thinking about the kind of work you did to get to this place, how do you keep that work going.

**Craig:** All true. I guess I’ll finish with my one last bit of, I don’t know if it’s advice, but commiseration, one human being to another. When you arrive at this place that you’ve imagined arriving at for so long, you can also get depressed, because there is no cake. The cake is a lie. If you have something to dream about, that is warm and comforting and exciting. If you get there and, as John suggests correctly, it doesn’t make you instantly happy, it doesn’t change who you are, transform you from inside, you can get depressed, because suddenly you start to wonder, what’s the point of all of this? We are trained to have a destination. There is no destination. If you think that you have, quote unquote, arrived, and then you look around and go, “Wait, is this it? It’s a lot like when I hadn’t arrived, just better hotel rooms,” that’s normal. You have to mourn the loss of that childlike hope.

Then on the other side of that hopefully brief spell, there is something better, which is an acceptance of the way things are and that the work itself is, he said cliché-ably, the work itself is the reward. That’s the reward. There is no other reward. Hopefully, we have helped a little bit there, photojournalist. We’re certainly very proud of you. Keep walking your walk.

**John:** Indeed. Craig, thank you very much.

**Craig:** Thanks, John.

Links:

* [‘Daredevil’ Hits Reset Button as Marvel Overhauls Its TV Business](https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/tv/tv-news/daredevil-marvel-disney-1235614518/) by Borys Kit for The Hollywood Reporter
* [Episode 530: The One with Jack Thorne](https://johnaugust.com/2022/scriptnotes-episode-530-the-one-with-jack-thorne-transcript)
* [John Green Tweet](https://x.com/johngreen/status/1708515024275189884?s=20)
* [Discovering aphantasia](https://austinkleon.com/2023/10/03/discovering-aphantasia/?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email) by Austin Kelon
* [Aphantasia – A Different Kind of Blindness](https://leelefever.com/aphantasia-blindness/) by Lee LeFever
* [Here’s What It’s Like To Not Have An Internal Monologue](https://www.bustle.com/wellness/does-everyone-have-an-internal-monologue) by Caroline Steber for Bustle
* [WGA Membership Department](https://www.wga.org/the-guild/about-us/contact-us/departments/membership)
* [Boobie_Klapper](https://www.instagram.com/p/Cwv-uusPR5D/) on Instagram
* [Uniqlo Colorful 50 Socks](https://www.uniqlo.com/us/en/products/E434187-000/00?colorDisplayCode=62&sizeDisplayCode=027)
* [Uniqlo RFID Automated Checkout](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GqPfYnVKwGI)
* [Get a Scriptnotes T-shirt!](https://cottonbureau.com/people/scriptnotes-podcast)
* [Check out the Inneresting Newsletter](https://inneresting.substack.com/)
* [Gift a Scriptnotes Subscription](https://scriptnotes.supportingcast.fm/gifts) or [treat yourself to a premium subscription!](https://scriptnotes.supportingcast.fm/)
* Craig Mazin on [Threads](https://www.threads.net/@clmazin) and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/clmazin/)
* John August on [Threads](https://www.threads.net/@johnaugust), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/johnaugust/?hl=en) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/johnaugust)
* [John on Mastodon](https://mastodon.art/@johnaugust)
* [Outro](http://johnaugust.com/2013/scriptnotes-the-outros) by Han Lundberg ([send us yours!](http://johnaugust.com/2014/outros-needed))
* Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt and edited by [Matthew Chilelli](https://twitter.com/machelli).

Email us at ask@johnaugust.com

You can download the episode [here](http://traffic.libsyn.com/scriptnotes/615standard.mp3).

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