Category: Animation

May 18th, 2010

Six Deadly Script Sins Part 2 – Writing Edition

An old article of mine “The Six Deadly Script Sins” has recently resurfaced,  and some of the comments were that writers wanted less about the do’s and don’ts of “presenting” your script to agents / prod co’s  for consideration, but rather they wanted to know about the do’s and don’ts of writing. So, here are my newest Six Deadly Script Sins, only these are about the craft of screenwriting, not the submission process.

1) Have one endingJaws ends beautifully.

The end. There’s no more, just one end. There is no need for a tag, and then a tag’s tag, and then a button on the end of the final tag. Just decide what the end of your movie is and commit to it. It’s exhausting trying to navigate more than one proper conclusion. It also makes you seem indecisive and amateurish as a writer.

2) Have an active protagonist – You character should always be doing something. They have to be the catalyst that propels the story forward. Allowing supplemental characters to cause havoc surrounding the main character is good story development and excellent to add plot complications, but you can’t rest on that alone. Set up your protagonist with a singular goal from the outset and have him work towards achieving it the whole script. It will give your protagonist interesting depth as well as create a built in plot device. Also try a MacGuffin if that better suits your needs.

3) If you don’t outline you’ll die. Well not really, but it is serious. Always. Always. Even if by the end of your first draft you’ve completely gone another direction, write the outline anyway. It’s good homework for you to know what the story is. It’s important that you, the writer, understand the full breadth of your characters and the over arching story. An outline is a horrible, tedious thing, but it’s good for you. It’s the brussel sprouts of writing. Just eat them and shut up.

4) Stop worrying about the writing and start worrying about the content. Yes your script should be well written. It should be properly formatted and in the correct font. But that isn’t the end. Your script needs to be concise, visual and above all convey a complete story. Spend less time worrying about how beautifully your action passages read, and think more about the content. You’ll find that you’ll feel less stressed when you realize pretty prose is for novels.

5) Don’t be vanilla. Yes, 90% of movies have the same beats and structure. I know you’re all “But my script…” yeah yeah, no. Your script is the same basic structure as everyone else’s whether you choose to believe it or not. It’s not that your story isn’t special, it’s just that there’s everyone else in the world with a story in their heart that probably touches on some similar beats. What will make you stand out are the details. A utilitarian scene is often necessary to give information or move the story along. That is the perfect time to add weird, quirky details if it’s a comedy. Throw in extra layers to your joke by building in visual references to complement your dialogue. That way you’re effectively hiding the fact that you need this scene to move from A-B, but at least it was interesting and unexpected. That way you’re getting more bang for your buck. I love when you get more for your money. Add the details. It’s worth your time.

6) You’re not Tarantino. You’re not Diablo Cody. You’re not either Gilmore Girl. I don’t care how cool your friends think you are. I don’t care that you once waited on Jane Lynch while you were a cashier  at a Bookstar. You are you and as such you are special. Quit trying to write preciously clever dialogue that is pervasive throughout your whole script. If you have one mouthy teenager who says the coolest, hippest street ever. Awesome. Give her her own voice. She deserves it. But if mouthy teen’s mom, the green grocer, and an alien from Neptune all have the same patois, it grows immediately tiresome. Find a voice unique to each character. Allow each character to be rich and full. Don’t make them spew semi-cool dialogue out of every pore just so you, as a writer, can seem relevant. It’s just totes, lame peeps.

There’s tons more. As I think of them or as people comment I can certainly write more and expand on this as requested.

April 12th, 2010

You Can Be As Creative As You Like, While Staying Inside The Lines

The last time I wrote a feature script, it was 5 years ago. I wrote an outline. I sat down and stuck to it. 10 days later I had written exactly the movie I outlined. I had produced 101 brand-spankin’-new script pages. It was cute. I was very pleased with myself.

The logline: An upscale NYC chef returns to Montana to open a restaurant, after she is publicly dumped and fired by her celebrity chef boyfriend.

It was all feelings, and quips, and beautiful food imagery. The characters were a little cloying, but on the whole it was charming. And it got good traction. Good enough traction, in fact, that along with some of my other specs, I started getting serious TV work.

Where’s the drama in this chain of events? Here’s the drame: after writing for television for 5 years, it was super difficult to around and remember how to write a feature script. Television is its own animal. Shows have to maintain consistency. They have to keep your favorite characters occupied for 22 to 44 minutes a week. And don’t forget act breaks, teaser and a tag. But just like Mr. T probably wouldn’t miss an A-Team mission to babysit, you have to make sure you stay true to the show before anything else. (p.s. this episode did not air… but it could’ve on “A-Team: Babies.”)

In TV, you basically have the creative freedom to do what ever you want, provided it fits within the pre-established confines of the show, such as characters, locations, plot points and the world in which they live. The show “mythos” is already establish. You are merely responsible for the machinations of the plot and clever character quips. That’s writing for television. It’s like an open book test.

When I was a kid, I loved to color but while my work was always beautiful and creative and interesting, it was always inside the lines. I wouldn’t cross those thick black lines with my crayons, not even at gun point. Writing for television is getting a coloring book page, and being told “You can be as creative as you like, provided you stay within the lines.”

Take a look at series bibles (here’s a pdf link to the series bible for Batman: The Animated Series) and you’ll see. The show runners have already fleshed out the world in vivid detail. They’ve given you some basic premises to give you a sense of what to pitch. And at the outset, a writer receives the character bios, the plot points they’re looking to hit,  and any other materials required to immerse yourself in a pre-established world.

Back to feature writing. So, 5 years go by and I have no movie ideas, until recently. As it’s not done yet, I still have 18 days to finish 50 pages (I’m feeling good about it) I’m not divulging any of my current Script Frenzy script secrets other than to say, it’s a comedy and well within my skill set. That being said, this has been the hardest “writing assignment” I’ve ever had!

I wrote my outline like I always had. An outline is an outline is an outline. It should always be basically the same, no matter what form or genre you’re writing. It should have broad strokes, and enough detail to keep you writing swiftly, a fully fleshed beginning, middle and end. You outline should cover basically every scene in the script, what happens, what is learned and then on to the next. So, I had one.

Then I started writing. The first 10 pages were like being constipated after eating fondue; uncomfortable! I was rigid and I wrote to the outline but it just laid there, flat and plain. There was no pizzazz, no sparkle, no Xandy. I had left myself no wiggle room to imagine, no creative freedom to try the unexplored. I knew my idea was good, in fact it’s already been pitched and there’s interest. I realized I was doing this all to myself because I was trapped in the boob tube.

This went on for a couple of days, until I found myself with my friend Merrel (he’s my story analyst) and I told him about my problem. He had read the outline already, so he was familiar with the work.

(more…)

March 29th, 2010

Most Common Questions from Twitter’s #scriptchat

Yesterday, I had the delightful pleasure of being a guest on #scriptchat’s professional reader’s panel, on Twitter, and my fingers have only just cooled down from all that speed typing!! It was amazing how many questions everyone had and how fast they all came! What an amazingly inquisitive bunch of writers!!

I found that the scriptchatters had a lot of similar questions. These were the most common. What do professional readers look for in a script? How many pages in before I know I want to pass? Why is working with a professional important? / What should I expect to get out of my coverage experience?  I figured I would take the time now, to answer those three questions again in a little more detail than the 140 characters Twitter afforded me. Here are my answers:

Q: What do I look for in a script?: This question could be both literal and metaphorical, so here’s both answers. I check to make sure that the script is properly formatted, that the font is correct, that the cover page appears professional –all sorts of critical minutia. After my “white glove” inspection, I start reading. While I am reading, I look for concise, breezily written action passages. I look for fully realized characters. I look for a complete story filled with appropriate structure and act breaks. And finally, I look for typos.

Q: How many pages in before I know I want to pass?: I know on page one, if this is going to be a script that I will be engaged by or one that is going to be an uphill battle. I’ve read enough scripts in my career to know which writers will tell a compelling story and which ones won’t. Very rarely am I surprised past page 1. But when I am that’s great! That’s why I keep reading.

Q: Why is working with a professional important? / What should I expect to get out of my coverage experience? A story analyst much like a personal trainer or a therapist, is there to tell you what to do to get you healthy, not do the work for you. Why you want a story analyst, is exactly why you want a trainer or a therapist; you have things that are bothering you and you need some help fixing them. Your reader will ideally provide you timely, unbiased notes, which are constructive, a path to resolve whatever problems are found, and an open line of communication to discuss everything. While you might get a lot of those things with a friend, a friend isn’t a pro… unless your friend is a pro and then by all means, enslave them. However, if you are not friends with a professional story analyst, it’s wise to seek out help before you start submitting. A pro will be able to spot industry standards that your friends might overlook. Also, friends and family tend to love or hate whatever you write simply because you wrote it. And while that loyalty is super adorable, a pro is going to tell you like it is, always. And isn’t that really why you’re there to being with?

Ultimately I feel like a reader / writer relationship is one based on trust. Like any therapist or trainer, a reader is privy to the writer’s deepest, most personal feelings of self-consciousness and with that comes great responsibility for your pro. You and your reader should agree to the terms prior to starting to read. You should know exactly what services you’re getting and make sure that your needs are met. If you don’t want a synopsis but they’re included, speak up. If you need your script expedited, speak up. The clearer you are with your needs, the easier it is to have them met.

Should you ever have an issue with your reader, which shouldn’t ever happen since you took such care in selecting them, you should be able to explain your point of view, and allow the reader to work with you to find some sort of solution. We’re writers too, for the most part. We understand how tough it is to get notes. It’s exhausting, but it’s a necessary part of a writer’s growth. So, figure it all out in advance, go into it with an open heart, hear what the reader has to say, and work on a plan of attack together. That’s the best way to make the most of your time with your story analyst.

One of the other panelists from #scriptchat was Merrel Davis, my story analyst. He has the tough job of keeping my writing on the straight and narrow and making sure that I don’t get testy while hearing his notes. Hey, it’s a tough gig, but someone has to do it! He and I have shared clients in the past, someone comes to me and him at the same time, gets two sets of notes, but no way to reconcile them. Merrel and I thought, like so much an infomercial, that there had to be a better way!

I’m so thrilled to announce that I will be partnering up with Merrel Davis, my good friend and colleague, to bring a REVOLUTIONARY NEW SERVICE TO YOU! We’re calling it: “DOUBLE FEATURE.”

We offer two professional story analysts working on your project, at the same time, and then collaborating together to help you get the most out of your development experience. We plan to offer this amazing service to both screenwriters and novelists of every genre. This service is the first of its kind. There are NO OTHER SERVICES QUITE LIKE IT.

Merrel and I share a passion for story development and a keen eye in which to help writers push through to reach their goals. I chose Merrel to partner with for this project, because we share the belief that it’s essential for writers to trust their story analysts, be able to get what they need in order to grow, and he has the same no-nonsense approach that I look for when I hire a reader to review my work. I felt, without question, he was the right person to bring on board.

So, Merrel welcome to CoverMyScript.com! And to all of you, please check out the #scriptchat transcript for the other panelist’s answers. And  I can’t wait to see you, at the “Double Feature.”

March 24th, 2010

Interview: Getting Started in Screenwriting with Xandy Sussan

Getting Started in Screenwriting with Xandy Sussan

(Reprinted with permission from AllFreelanceWriting.com)

Today in our “Getting Started” series, screenwriter / television writer Xandy Sussan stops by to talk to us about screenwriting. Whether you’re looking for a way to freelance in fiction or you simply want to pursue a screenplay or teleplay as a creative side project, there are some things you should know before jumping in.

Here’s what Sussan had to say:

On How She Started in Screenwriting / Writing for Television …

“I had a day job working for the story editor / producer on an animated series as his writer’s assistant. As soon as I found out there were freelance slots open, I went in with 10 premises and pitched to him. I sold three in the room, wrote them, and got into the Writer’s Guild. It seems so simple when I read how it happened to me, but those three sentences took 5 years of plugging away, working for pennies on the dollar, skimping and starving to achieve my goal. But, ultimately, I did and when I saw my name up there, when I held my WGA card in my hand, it was all totally worth it. “

On Needing Specialized Education or Experience Before Starting…

“I went to NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts’ Dramatic Writing Program, and I graduated with a dual BFA in Television and Screenwriting. When I first graduated from NYU, it seemed like that was enough. “Oh, she must be great, she went to NYU…” but it turned out that where I went to school was really of little relevance. NYU had me believing that “they” (the producers of the world) were handing out sit-coms at LAX to every New York transplant. That just wasn’t true.

While being an NYU grad helped people recognize I had some worth and an excellent education, the only thing that really mattered, as far as my screenwriting was concerned, was what was on the page. And if my samples weren’t impressive, the door was closed to me.

The only education that really helped me progress was doing. By producing an indie film in 1999, I learned I knew nothing. I didn’t know my ass from my elbow, but when you’re in charge of a 20 person crew and they’re all looking to you for the answers, you learn on the job. Screenwriting is the same. You don’t get to be a better writer by only doing it once. It takes years to develop a voice, a style, a concise and inventive way to tell a story that is both marketable and innovative. That comes with practice.”

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March 10th, 2010

Didja get that thing? Searching for your MacGuffin

My sister, Spenser, and I go on the same highly anticipated adventure every time we’re together. We drive from our parents’ home in Connecticut into Manhattan for a quick, food hit-and-run on Original Ray’s on 9th between 23rd and 22nd and then on to Billy’s Bakery, half a block away between 22nd and 21st. It’s my favorite two blocks in Manhattan, next to Zabars and H&H. Mmm. Delicious! The drive usually takes us one hour and forty five minutes roundtrip to complete and then there’s forty five more minutes of scarfing pizza and cupcakes while we giggle. We are on a mission, specific solely unto us, which can only be satisfactorily concluded with that first bite of pizza and end with the last moist bite of a chocolate cupcake with vanilla frosting.

Like Peewee and his bike, Citizen Kane and his Rosebud, Lt. Aldo Raine and his Nazi scalps, Spenser and I wanted something so much that it prompted us to act just to get it. That slice and cupcake, in the movie of our cross-state adventure, is our MacGuffin: the “thing” we seek.

A MacGuffin, plainly and simply is everything and nothing at the same time. It is the object of your character’s desire; it’s the thing that drives him and forces him to act. It is the carrot at the end of your plot’s stick. It is an excellent character motivator and every movie has one, regardless of genre. Some movies have a tangible thing, like Harold and Kumar’s White Castle, while others can be intangible, like Dorothy wanting to “go home.” While she’s not yearning for a “thing,” she’s yearning for “something” and that’s enough to motivate her to act.

The term MacGuffin was coined by Alfred Hitchcock while working on Notorious. The spies were originally going to be hunting diamonds, but then Hitchcock decided Uranium would work better. The thing about MacGuffins is that even though there’s a huge difference between diamonds and Uranium, there’s really no difference at all. Hitchcock recognized that all that needed to remain constant was the characters’ desire to obtain the “thing” not what the “thing” is. The “thing” itself is really just a random thing. Sam Spade had his Maltese Falcon, The Terminator has John Connor, Neo has his whatever The Matrix is about. Everyone wants something different. What they want doesn’t matter, just that they want something does.  It’s really a spectacular revelation when you think about it.

Hitchcock dubbed this concept a “MacGuffin” after a joke: Two Scotts are on a train. One points to the other’s case. “What’s in the case?” “It’s a MacGuffin. It’s an apparatus used to trap lions on the Scottish Highlands.” “But there are no lions on the Scottish Highlands.” “Well, then sir, that is no MacGuffin.” And that’s it. A MacGuffin was born.

According to Hitchcock, a MacGuffin can really be as varied as the character. My cupcake, is one spy’s papers is another thief’s diamond necklace. But what that “thing” is, isn’t important. What is important is the character’s desire to possess that “thing.” Because it is desire that drives us as people, and it is desire that makes for relatable and accessible characters.

It is this desire that will prompt a cross-state adventure to satisfy a food craving, but it is also this desire that puts your character on their journey to self discovery. The MacGuffin gives your character something to focus on, to strive for, to be pushed to the limit to have. It is through this process that your character will develop and ultimately grow as a result of participation. The MacGuffin is such an integral piece of all writing, fiction and non, because it is a comment on the human condition. Everyone wants something… that “thing” that they want, isn’t important. Their hunger for it is everything.

Just because your character is on a quest for some “thing,” it is really how he gets it and if he gets it that is important. So while it might be of the highest importance to eat that slice and cupcake, it’s the getting there, and the trip with Spenser that makes the movie exciting. It is the minutia of what happens to us in the car ride that makes the movie special.

Whereas the object of your character’s desire can be as varied as the landscape in which you create it, the one thing that will always remain constant is that the MacGuffin is the most important thing to your character. It is this unabashed love of something that drives your character to act, to journey, to grow. So no matter if it’s a waffle or a sports car, whatever the “thing” your character wants, should inform their choices to obtain it.

The MacGuffin also allows you to show a little bit of character in a fun and clever way. The Dude’s attachment to a small throw rug in his living room is odd. It was weirdly sized, awkwardly placed and grungy. It was something of little consequence to basically everyone in the world; everyone in the world but The Dude.

You see, if The Dude hadn’t so seriously wanted his rug back, he might never have met The Big Lebowski, nor been sucked into the caper of The Missing Bunny Lebowski. It was his desire for his rug’s safe return that lead him to Maude, it was the rug that led him to the Nihilists. If Jackie Treehorn’s porno-actor thug hadn’t micturated upon the rug “that really tied the room together,” The Dude might not have realized how important this item was to him. He might have done his bowling Thai Chi over it for 10 more years as it gathered dust, unnoticed below him. But it was the loss of this rug, the ever present desire to reclaim it that forced him to realize how important it really was to him. That this rug didn’t just “really tie the room together,” it really made him whole, it defined him.

So, when you’re crafting your character think about what they want. By giving them a MacGuffin, you’re giving them something that explains something about their personality while also giving them a built in goal. The item itself is immaterial, as it can be anything. But what makes it so exciting and so mysterious, is that while it’s so important, it’s really of little consequence. Ascribe them something strange and different, make the object a poignant character point rather than some throw away. Use your MacGuffin to center your journey around, and let it inform your character’s choices.

I believe that when you employ an interesting MacGuffin, you’ll find the same satisfaction I find in my slice and cupcake, as your character will find in their adventurous expedition to get the “thing” they’re after. It is in the hunting for that “thing,” the lusting for that “thing,” the obtaining of that “thing” that your character will find their happiness. It is in the adventure to get the “thing,” their MacGuffin that will actually force your character to grow.