John August

QandA

Rewriting based on other people’s notes

QandA, Writing Process

questionmark I am about to begin work on a new draft of a script of mine that is currently under option with an Irish Film Production Company. I have been seriously writing for two years (since finishing up my Film & TV studies at college) and haven’t to this day had to rewrite one of my scripts based on outside suggestions.

I was just wondering, what tips you would have on re-writing? Are there any tips? Is there even a standard way of re-writing at all? How should I attack this new challenge?

— Kevin Lehane
Cork City, Ireland

The bulk of screenwriting is really screenrewriting. Whether it’s your second draft, or your seventeeth, you’re constantly trying to make the script better/faster/cheaper/funnier while not forgetting what made you write it in the first place. Here are some things to keep in mind:

  1. Be bold. You always have the old version saved on the hard drive, so why not try that radical idea? The worst that can happen is that it doesn’t work. Even if it’s a disaster, you may discover some great things you can use in the less-radical version.

  2. Have a plan. If you know what you’re trying to accomplish, you’re less likely to hit dead ends.

  3. Don’t confuse rewriting with polishing. Rewriting means ripping apart scenes and sequences and rebuilding them piece-by-piece. Polishing is finding ways to make the writing subtly better: changing words, moving commas, and breaking up sentences. Both jobs are crucial, but don’t polish until the scene accomplishes its function.

  4. When considering other people’s notes, focus on why they had an issue, not how they proposed solving it. If it’s not clear why a beat didn’t work for them, keep asking questions.

  5. Always be willing to kill your favorite moments. To paraphrase Spock: The needs of the movie outweigh the needs of the scene.

Researching and writing The Circle

QandA, Television

Question MarkI just finished reading both episodes of The Circle, and I was wondering if you could answer a few questions about writing for television.

  1. How much time did you spend doing research for each episode?
  2. How long did it take you to write an episode?
  3. Seeing as how you created the show, but would have not written every episode during the season how are the episodes handled by other writers?
  4. Do you as the creator set an outline for the season as to what each episode would center around and where you wanted to show to go?

Thanks for your time, I enjoyed reading them both.

-Josh
Federal Way, WA

I probably spent three weeks researching Alaska for The Circle, most of that before I started writing the pilot. By the time I started working on episode 2, there really wasn’t anything new I needed to research.

Television scripts are short, at least by feature standards. An hour-long drama will clock in below sixty pages, so it’s no big chore to write one in a week. Unfortunately, in the real world of television production, you often have to write one in a weekend, and that’s where it gets ugly.

Since The Circle never went to series, we didn’t end up hiring a writing staff, although Matt Pyken and Michael Berns did pen a follow-up episode. Had the show been picked up by ABC, we would have hired an executive producer to ultimately take the reins of the show. Although I would stay on to consult, he would have supervised the writing staff, setting the course for each episode and the series as a whole. This would include meeting with the writers (both individually and as a group); approving beat sheets, outlines and scripts; and rewriting scripts as needed.

This executive producer would be considered the showrunner, since all the creative decisions would ultimately rest with him. I knew this going in. I deliberately created a show I felt could flourish without my day-to-day involvement. Although I love TV, I prefer features. That’s where I make my living, and the time table is much more relaxed.

Four Seasons, Five Season or just some fancy hotel

QandA, Words on the page

questionmarkMy question involves specific locations. How specific can I get without it becoming a problem? For example, what if instead of a murder in a “nice city hotel”, I set it in the Four Seasons Chicago, for example, is it legally alright for me to do that?

I’m sure the Four Seasons wouldn’t appreciate a memorable murder scene set in their hotel lobby, but what’s my other choice? Create a fictional prestigious hotel called the Five Seasons to give me total creative license?

–Matthew Bradley
Chicago, IL

Standard advice applies: do whatever works best, and don’t worry about it. Let the lawyers decide whether it will need to be changed before production.

If it’s crucial to the scene, just say The Four Seasons. If you simply need to indicate that it’s a luxury hotel, say luxury hotel. Either way, remember that the burden is still on you to give enough flavor in your description.

You’re better off coming up with your own name for the hotel if a lot of your story will take place there. This way, you’re not competing with the reader’s expectations, and have wider latitude in creating the logistics you need.

Backing up is hard to do

QandA, So-Called Experts

questionmarkI just had the unfortunate happen: the dog pulled my laptop off the table by tripping across the power cord. Yeah. Anyhow, I lost a bunch of screenwriting materials because the fall damaged my harddrive beyond repair.

I’m learning the VERY hard way that backing up is not just a good “insurance policy” but a MUST. I thought it might be a subject you might shed some light on from your personal experience.

— Eric
Indiana

Like flossing, stretching, and updating your will, backing up your work is one of those unquestioned Good Ideas that’s pretty easy to ignore. It’s the law of delayed consequences: people tend to put off work that doesn’t have immediate gratification.

Honestly, I don’t back up nearly as much as I should. Or, “should.” If you read any computer magazine, they’re constantly harping on you to back up every night to a redundant RAID, then weekly to a tape drive, with off-site storage and whatnot.

Bah. My philosophy can be summarized in six words: What’s the worst that could happen?

It’s a revelation that came to me the last time I switched to a new computer. I dutifully dragged my files onto an external hard drive, ready to migrate them to their new home, when I realized that pretty much everything I needed on the new computer was either…

  • already installed, or
  • would need to be redownloaded for the most recent version.

The only item that needed to make the move was my “Projects” folder, a mere 500 megabytes. So why was I bothering with everything else? It was time to apply my new philosophy.

What’s the worst that could happen if I didn’t back up my applications and system software? Well, it would take a little more time to re-install them. But, I’d be saving a lot of time by not bothering to back them up every day/week/month.

What’s the worst that could happen if I didn’t back up my old projects? Well, I’d hate to lose them; they’re like old friends frozen in 12pt Courier. Beyond the emotional cost, I do occasionally need to refer back to them. So it’s worth the effort to periodically grab the folder off the server and copy it to my local hard drive. Likewise, every few months I burn a copy of the whole thing onto a CD-ROM and mail it to my mother in Colorado, figuring that if an asteroid wipes out California, at least future generations will be able to read what SCOOBY-DOO was like before they cut it down to a PG rating. (Answer: much funnier.)

What’s the worst that could happen if I lost the current version of the project I’m working on? This is probably the worst-case scenario, because I’m generally on deadline and working for people with very little patience for technical difficulties. If I’m using my Powerbook, I’ll often email the file to myself as a backup, and also save it to my keychain drive. When I’m at home, I’ll often do the email trick, or copy items to my .Mac iDisk.

And then there’s the backups you don’t even plan. In Guns, Germs and Steel, Jared Diamond makes a convincing argument that the best place for a tribal chief to store his surplus food is in his neighbor’s stomach. The same is true for data. (Go with me here.) Most of the scripts I work on these days travel around as .pdfs. One side benefit of this digitalization is that for any given script, some friend or assistant will invariably have a copy sitting in her mail. I sleep a little more soundly knowing that I could simply ask her to send it back.

In conclusion: Backing up is a waste of time, except for the few items for which it’s crucial. So worry about those, and not the rest.