A Random Rattle Bag of Thoughts

I was drafting a new, and let’s face it, long overdue, blog post with an update on where I am with my screenwriting comeback(!) and with some thoughts on writers’ block, which is obviously floating in the air as a topic at the moment. (I’m not blocked, by the way, but I have found that on resuming writing, I needed to relearn a lot of basic skills, like actually writing one word after the other – more on that another time.)

But, a few things have happened that I couldn’t let pass without comment, rant. So, this will be something of a random collection of scraps. Firstly - and I know everyone's talking about it, but I can't let it go by completely - there was the ridiculous and short-sighted decision by the ConDems to abolish the UK Film Council. Needless to say, I'm in agreement with Mike Leigh et al, and I do wonder about the thinking of a government, or any institution, that announces what it's going to tear down before it announces what it's going to build. Still, time will tell how/if any new system will work. Good luck to all of us in our funding applications yet to come...

...we're going to need it.

As some kind of compensation to writers, this year sees the return - in all its austerity-defying glory - of the Red Planet Competition. It is almost certainly the best screenwriting opportunity out there, particularly as it's free to enter. The deadline fast approaches, and my script and 60-word synopsis are being buffed up now, nearing completion despite all that writers' block that I didn't have. Another good luck to all who enter.

Next, and I know I'm late to the party again, but wasn't Sherlock absolutely excellent? I wasn't as blown away as I thought I'd be by the writing in this year's series of Doctor Who, so it's good to see the the Moff be fully Grand again. I've read a few online criticisms about one small aspect: Holmes seemed unnaturally slow on the uptake about the profession of the killer. But this allowed for a big, fantastic "He's Behind You" moment later on, so it was forgivable, I think. The ratings were good, so I'm looking forward to seeing some more.

Finally, it seems churlish to celebrate much, but Displacement Activities has quietly crept past it's three year anniversary as a going concern; and yes, I know there have been times when I've pushed the definition of 'going concern' to its absolute limit, but survival is all that matters: I'm still typing. A moment's reflection then (something along the lines of "Three years, and that's all the posts I managed? Sheesh") and then onwards.

Displacement Activities will Return in - I dunno - a bit, with:

"I done busted my writing bone, and other tales of Writer anxiety".

Sixty Minutes

After multiple distractions working on other things, I finally completed the retooled version of the 'Life Support' pilot last week. All the fantasy sequences are gone, as are most of the flashbacks and voice over. I have set myself strict rules about how the 'story within a story' aspect works, and it no longer seems overdone. The first ten pages are tighter and get to the point quicker. All in all, I hope I've learned a bit from crashing-and-burning out of Red Planet at the first round. Whether it's a saleable commodity or not, only time will tell - it's very bleak and not very high concept, not the best combo in times of recession, so says Conventional Wisdom (but I prefer his brother Norman).

Talking of RP, I assume the word will be out soon as to who's got the glittering prize; good luck to those still in with a chance! I'm glad I did it - definitely a worthwhile exercise, and now I have a hard-earned pilot script for an hour-long drama series. Everybody wins. Interestingly – alright, semi-interestingly – a 60-minute script is harder than anything else I've tried to write, much harder than 10, 30, 45, 90 or 120. I don't see why this would necessarily be, but I've heard it from other writers too (so it must be true!). Now I know why Holby City has a musical montage at the beginning and the end of every episode!

Since completion of the script, I have done another half draft tidying things up, and the script is at exactly 60 pages, which is probably a little too long for a broadcast slot, so I'll review with a mind to cut two or three minutes of dead wood. Then, it will be ready for a good duffing up's worth of peer feedback before I rewrite it again. Hooray! Onwards and upwards...

Televisual Autopsy - Part 2

So, I was writing a 6 x 60 minute drama about people in an evening class, all trying to write their first novel. My aim was to produce something without any formal shenanigans or fantasy elements (good for the competition, and good for me). I liked the idea, and I was excited to be exploring it.

I spent most of my time for the next few weeks building up characters, their back-stories, how they interacted with the rest of the group, what their arc was going to be, and so on; but, I didn't write a word of screenplay. Perhaps I spent too long on this stage, given the constraints I was working to (although it's very useful material to have now I'm rewriting). A self-imposed deadline was approaching fast: I had to complete my first ten pages soon, as a number of writers, including myself, were taking part in a peer feedback exchange at the end of August.

Just before I started on the script proper, a thought occurred. The format of the show was that each episode concentrated on a single character - would it work if each episode covered roughly a week of their life, the week that their novel would be the focus of the group's attention, being read out and criticised by everyone else? And how about the theme of each character's novel in some way mirroring their main story? This tickled me. I had turned the idea of peer feedback into the structure of my Red Planet Competition entry. Mild worry: was I falling into the trap of making a post-modern joke of this work, already?

I decided not: if you're dealing with characters that are facing some sort of conflict or crisis (and of course I was), and these people are aspiring writers then whatever they are writing is going to – in some way – be affected by what's going on in their life. It was psychologically true enough for me to be satisfied, and it gave the work a Unique Selling Point – each week, a new character, a new story, a new book: nothing over the top, but the character writing the spy story is living a double life, the fantasy author is off in a world of their own, and so on. I was keen to have a USP, as I had remembered the Channel 4 Series The Book Group from a few years back, and wanted to make sure my pitch wasn't too similar.

Still, I didn't want to overdo the literary angle, or else I'd risk creating the over-structured style of story I was trying to avoid. So, I set a rule – you would hear the 'story within a story' occasionally, but only when a character was genuinely reading out a section. Sometimes it would carry on in voice over through the following scene to give an ironic juxtaposition. But nothing more – no fantasy sequences, no sections of adaptation, and no scenes of people at typewriters or computer keyboards if I could help it (that's always death).

My first ten pages and series outline were put together quite quickly, and sent off to a number of very knowledgeable and helpful people. I then carried on working on the remaining 50 pages, but they were basically in a very sketchy outline form at that point, when I was asking for my first ever feedback. So, this is probably where klaxons are sounding in your head. In a perfect world, I would never have sent out the first ten pages of anything, if I hadn't finished it, as things in those first ten pages were bound to change as I kept working. But it isn't a perfect world. And besides: I wanted some feedback on the premise at least. I wanted to see if people said “Is this too much like The Book Group?” as that was obviously a slight concern (no one did).

I got very good feedback and lots of potential notes from people who are out there making a living writing. As usual, I looked for any points that three or more people picked up on. There was one biggie: three people all said (I paraphrase): “Based on your outline, I thought there would be more of the literary genre stuff: fantasy sequences, that sort of thing – you should go for it”. I became very worried that I was being too tentative in my first draft, avoiding the main thrust of what I should have been doing, because it might upset a reader. But with 20:20 hindsight, I now see how I could easily address this threefold note:

Change the outline.

Get rid of the 'story within a story' from the outline as it's distorting people's expectations. But, I did not change the outline, I went against my initial instincts, and embarked on a rewrite of the script, dialling up the literary style and emphasising the ironic counterpoints between the lives the writers lived in reality, and the lives they lived in their prose. And - to be fair - it could have worked. But it was preventing me from doing what I should have been doing, which was finishing the next 50 pages and rewriting to make it more like the thing I set out to write. By the time I submitted them, the first ten pages had voice over, flashbacks, and fantasy sequences; this, as well as introducing my ensemble and setting up the first focus character's plot. I hadn't a chance in hell, frankly.

I still hadn't finished the remaining 50 pages to my satisfaction when I submitted to the competition. I really shouldn't have sent anything in at all, as I didn't have faith in the material. But it's easy to say that now. After submitting, as I kept on writing, I desperately wanted to fix things in those first 10 pages, but obviously I couldn't.

So, I didn't win a competition with material I wasn't happy with: in some ways, this has to be better than not winning with material I am happy with. Plus, I've learned (or relearned) some lessons. I shall publish them here, so I can look back in a year's time before I enter the Red Planet Comp 2009:

1. Keep hold of your project's core idea or ideas. Work out in your mind what you're okay to change, and what you'd fight like hell to keep. Don't be inflexible, but don't let the rewriting process tear your idea part either.
2. Don't get seduced by a new direction if it takes you too far from that core idea.
3. Try not to get feedback until you're finished.
4. Consider not sending something in to the competition at all if you aren't happy with it: hard, I know, but if you don't feel something's ready, chances are a reader won't either. And there will always be other opportunities.
5. Consider all notes carefully. Don't rush in to a rewrite: the most obvious way to solve something isn't always the best.

Televisual Autopsy - Part 1

There's a book by Douglas Hofstadter called Le Ton beau de Marot. It covers verse and verse translation, amongst other topics, and uses examples of poems written by Hofstadter himself (an academic, but hardly a poet) to illustrate the creative process. I remember the Poetry Review being very sniffy about this at the time of its publication: the level of detail gone into was, the reviewer felt, unseemly for poems which were previously unpublished and produced by not much more than a hobbyist. I suppose it was a fair enough point, as Hofstadter was probably more surprised at some of the mysteries of the writing process he uncovered than his readership were likely to be, given that they were inevitably poets and writers themselves, and would be engaging in that process every day, for their jobs and everything. It's still a good read though.

I preface today's post with the above tale, because I am aware that it might seem odd to go into detail about a work of mine that has proved a bit of a failure. But I am going to go ahead anyway, and explain what I felt went wrong with my Red Planet script, Life Support. I hope this is useful as an example of things it's probably best not to do. If I'm teaching you all to suck eggs, please forgive me: mine is a cautionary tale, that - no matter how many times one's been told the pitfalls - it's still easy to come a cropper. To put in context exactly how this came to be, I need to talk about the genesis of the idea.

And just in case this seems like me self-administering a public whipping, let me reiterate: I'm not giving up writing. Danny's latest post in his wonderful sequence on professionalism says it all: you have to deal with rejection, and learn from it. Read on for what I've learned this time...

The Red Planet competition was launched at this year's Screenwriters' Festival, and I started working immediately. In a rare quiet moment later that day, I sat on my own and started a mental inventory of possible ideas, but I didn't like any of them. I knew I wanted to do something naturalistic and straight. There were many reasons for this: partially it was inspired by The Wire's brilliant wonderfulness, but mainly it was because most of the longer example scripts in my portfolio have some fantasy elements, or voice overs, or tricksy structures. I was getting a bit tired of that kind of stuff and wanted to do something purer. Plus, all those things can put off a reader unless they're done really, really well.

I also knew I wanted to do a series in a character anthology style (i.e. the genre with no name). I like those kind of shows, and - as this was the first TV drama series I was to write - I thought it might be a more gentle learning curve to start with a structure that allowed me to write six mini-movies, one for each of my characters. I also thought it was a good thing to concentrate most of my time on creating the ensemble and let the plots arise from their characters. After watching all the BBC continuing dramas for so long, I'd firmly decided that characters, and in particular regular characters, are all. A good guest plot is a bonus, but people tune in to watch people, people they know and love.

I needed a linking device to bring my characters together. The idea finally came from one of the speakers at the Festival. There had been an infamous session with a life coach (she of the 'Baby steps, baby steps...' comment). I was musing on this afterwards, and it tickled me to think of what happens to you if you're going through life coaching, and your coach dies. Bing! Light bulb moment.

I still had problems to solve, though: was this a realistic precinct to get my characters together? This was important, as I was going to explode the precinct in episode one, by killing off the mentor character, and then explore whether the group dynamic could come back together and function again. So, it needed it to be a solid and realistic group to begin with; but, life coaching is usually a 1-on-1 activity. Though I did check, and you can get evening classes where groups go through something like life coaching, I didn't know if an audience would buy that.

Did it have to be life coaching? Surely any evening class would become some kind of support group after everyone's been going there for a while. How about a writing group? Write what you know, and all that. It gave me wonderful opportunities for conflict - in life coaching each person's goals would be different, so there would be no real room for jealousy at that level; it would be hard to dramatise 'you're getting yourself together faster than I am' but 'you've got published and I haven't' - everyone can understand that.

This was something I was wary of, though: some readers and script consultants will advise against anything that involves writers or writing: too in-jokey and incestuous. But, as I was avoiding screenwriting and concentrating on wannabe novelists (most of the general public don't think they have a screenplay in them, in fact they probably think the actors and director make it up as they're going along), and as I was working hard to make a distinct group of characters (different ages, different goals, inner and outer, i.e. it wasn't just going to be a bunch of arty twenty something media types), I thought I could get it to work.

In fact, this is the one thing that I'm not attempting to change in my rewrites - I like the novel writing class idea. It may well prove that it's a hard sell, and might not have been the best choice for a competition entry, but I'm sticking with it. Besides, the script had greater problems than that. I'd already sown the seeds of my own destruction (okay, okay, really I'd only sown the seeds for not getting into one competition and having to do a major rewrite - but that doesn't sound so good).

Next: how really really not to deal with peer review feedback...

Taking Stock

Congratulations to all those who got through to the next (and final?) round of the Red Planet competition. Jason has handily collated all those winners from the blogosphere here. Well done, y'all.

But: hmm...

When a competition is held, and a large number of fellow bloggers and drinking buddies get through and I fail to get through, it's hard not to think: I should give up.

There, I've said it. No dancing around 'they were looking for something else' or 'it's not the right time' or 'I'm on some kind of different wavelength': despite spending a lot of time on it, my work wasn't good enough. I have to make it better, or quit.

We all need a certain amount of encouragement to keep going, otherwise we'd be insane to keep going. And though I'm not claiming not to be insane, I could do with some official encouragement at the moment, but it's thin on the ground. Maybe I'm missing something that's being told to me, loud and clear.

But I'm not giving up: I'll give it at least six more months before I start trying something different. And I'm not talking wildly different: I'm not going to be learning the ukulele, particle physics or African pottery: I'll just try writing novels, maybe - see how that pans out.

Nobody on their deathbed ever regrets not spending more time at work

Worry not, Phill – I'm still alive! But my computer isn't quite yet. After getting a new desktop to replace my ever malfunctioning old one, I was in the middle of rebuilding it from various back ups and other sources . This took quite a while, and some things are possibly lost for good. I had to type the pilot episode script for my Red Planet entry in from scratch, copying from a paper copy, because the last time I backed things up, I'd hardly started it.

It was quite amusing: after having desperately searched every scrap of paper in my office, finally finding my activation key code, then chatting to a Final Draft support techie in the U.S. using some rather nifty InstantService web-chat instant messenger doodad, and getting the software un-registered from the broken down PC, and re-registered to my new one, I then copied the backup files from my portable hard drive, and – trembling,and with bated breath – clicked to open the file marked 'Life Support – Episode 1' . This is the extent of what I'd written before backing up:

INT.


That was it. Thank the Great God Aethismo I'd printed it out, that's all I can say. Except to add: if anyone who gave me notes has still got a copy of my one page series outline, could they send it to me, please? Don't seem to have that at all, any more. Do regular backups, ladies an gentlemen: learn from my stupidity.

Anyway, I was in the middle of rebuilding the computer when my monitor stopped working. I couldn't afford to replace it until pay day (this Friday just gone – it arrived today) and before that I was making do, using my old RGB projector hooked up to the PC and blasting the screen image all over one wall of the room – it's hard on the eyes (and the screenwriting process: see your script's faults writ large!), so progress has been slow.

I had the natty new netbook too, of course; but, enter another thief of my time: the day job. Don't get the wrong idea - I love my day job. But this time of year is always frantic and fraught. I work as a project manager for a team designing web sites and web applications. It's work I like, and I always find that the writing I do is better when I have a stable and enjoyable job of work to pay the bills; so, it contributes to my proper job too.

And, despite working for a financial institution, my day job seems for now to be unaffected by the credit crunch - fingers crossed. Certainly there's a lot of work coming in for the team. Too much. The problem is that big institutions, even in the web technology area, err on the side of caution (except, obviously in the area of mortgage lending, but let's not go there) and a change freeze operates throughout December when I can't put any websites live.

So, the year end rush of projects happens in November as people use up their budget, instead of in December when people want to be on holiday. It's nice in a way. But it means that round about now I'm horribly busy. It was the same last year too – I had a working computer then, but I was also writing a feature; I seem to remember a November of the comments section bursting with chides for my not posting enough. Plus ca change.

Anyway, all is fixed up now, and by the end of Friday the day job will have settled down too. Expect more blather here then.

A Voice from Beyond the Grave (Well, the New Forest Actually)

I've only just realised that blogger has a facility where you can post-date a blog entry, and have it automatically populate on a particular day and at a particular time. Woo, and as is custom, hoo!

So, I'm writing this minutes before I get in the car to go off for a break in the New Forest (I'd love to pretend I'm staying in Autumnal England for carbon footprint reasons, but alas it's only because I still haven't got round to getting the little 'un a passport).  But, if all goes well, you'll be seeing this on Thursday midway through my break.  Ain't technology wonderful.

I'm sure I'm enjoying myself, and I hope you are too.  Only a day or two left to get that Red Planet application off: good luck!

See you in October!

Out of Office Autoreply

I don't normally need to make a fuss when I go away for a while, as I usually post so infrequently that it can go unnoticed.  But, having made an effort to up my game of late, it is probably necessary to tell you all that I am off on holiday for a week with the family, so there won't be any posts for a while.

I have left the blog's downstairs light on, so people will think I'm in (and staying up all night every night, without moving from one spot).  If you come by to water the blog's plants, and spot that the freebie newspaper is hanging half-out of my blog's letter box, please do me a favour and knock it all the way through, or else blog thieves may notice, break in, and make off with all my best posts.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to the break, as work's been pretty full on recently. My Red Planet entry is finished, sealed and sent.  I'm keeping everything crossed - I'm pretty pleased with it, and to be honest, just producing the material is enough of a win for me (not that I'll be knocking Tony back if he wants to invite me to the next round, of course).  

Also, once I get back, as well as lot of other ideas that are nagging away at my mind wanting to be written, there's another round of digital shorts to think about.  The scheme is opening for submissions in all the screen agencies across the regions, and I'm thinking about putting in a longer script this year.  While I'm away, if you're also thinking of entering, my posts on the scheme and my experiences with it are as linked below, and may be useful:

Digital Shorts - Part 1: Submission

Digital Shorts - Part 2: Selection

Digital Shorts - Part 3: Script Development

Digital Shorts - Part 4: Shooting

Have a great week: see you soon!

Notes on Notes

 have just finished reviewing two other writers Red Planet scripts, as part of this script swap feedback challenge that a group of us are trying out. It's all timeboxed, as it should be: the scripts had to be completed and submitted by August 31st, and the feedback returned by midnight last night. The second deadline was much harder than the first, and I finally finished the feedback by about 11pm last night, exhausted.

This was because script reading is hard. I salute you, script readers all over the world - I could not do this for a living. The major problem is being careful not to give notes for the sake of it just to look like one is giving good value. Also, there is the constant paranoia that one's own style and preconceptions are colouring the impression of material (and, of course, they are). Anyway, I am safe in the knowledge that the writers I was critiquing are big enough and good enough to ignore my notes if they don't suit.

Now, I have the still pretty difficult task of taking the responses to my script, searching for the sticking points which were mentioned by most or every respondent, and formulating ways of fixing those without getting rid of too much I like. Another run through the 60 page script, and a few more passes on the first 10 and the outline by the end of September in time for the Red Planet deadline. Easy.

Of course, I have a family holiday starting on the 20th, and I promised The Wife that there would be absolutely no writing interfering with my duties as husband and father on that holiday. So, I've actually only got twelve days! Oh shit. Better get back to work then.

A post a day...

As I am often criticised (in a friendly manner, mind) by my blog-o-peers for the somewhat sporadic nature of my posting, I set myself a challenge recently to do a week straight of daily posts, without skimping too much on content. Hooray! I managed it. Well, you can make up your own mind about the content: without days and weeks to ponder, I do tend to rant on occasion, apologies for that.

The interesting thing about this is that I have done more and more focused writing during the week I was strenuously blogging than I have for a while previously. It might well be coincidence, or something to do with having a birthday, but I seem to have upped my game a little. Does this mean that I can't use being busy as an excuse anymore? Well, no...

As I'm doing a script report on two Red Planet entries, brainstorming some ideas for 'Santa Baby' and continuing my work on 'Life Support' I am going to revert to posting every couple of days. But please feel free to drive by and blog-o-insult me if it all gets too quiet round here again.

Life Support Progress Report, and sad news

I'm surprised at how very energised I'm feeling to be working on a TV project. Maybe this is vindication for my decision to concentrate on non-film work from now on, or maybe it's just the freedom of working just for myself (for now) on spec work; whatever it is, I'm enjoying myself.

Progress so far: my computer is fixed, I've developed lots of background material on characters and world, and I've plotted out my pilot episode.  So, finally, I get to do what I've been putting off, and start producing some pages.  Sitting down and writing a draft can be fun, as Jason and Danny have posted about, most informatively and entertainingly, recently.

And, as part of a writing challenge with a group of other writers, I'm going to complete the first ten pages (and one page series outline) by the end of August, and get feedback from the group, as well as give feedback on other people's scripts.  To be honest, it's probably a bit early for my script, but a challenge is a challenge; and all notes can be useful, one way or other.

ADDITIONAL: I've just read the very sad news that Geoffrey Perkins has died in a car accident at a ridiculously young age.  I'd never met him, but his name was on the credits on pretty much every comedy programme that meant anything to me in my youth. A terrible shock.

This thing I'm writing... what the hell is it, exactly?

I'm glad to end the radio silence of the last week or two; there was a good reason for it - I was hard at work on my series pilot, which I'm planning to enter into the Red Planet competition. In fact, I don't know why I'm being so coy about it: it's called Life Support, it's a 6 x 60 minute contemporary drama TV series and it's one of those thingummy types of one that there isn't a proper term for, or at least not one I know.

I recently met up with a bunch of writers and bloggers for a few drinks in that London. I canvassed opinions then, and no one there could think of a convincing moniker either. This is my personal view on how the categories break down:

Soap (Coronation Street, Eastenders, Emmerdale) - in it's purest form a soap opera has a group of characters, each of whom will take the protagonist role in a running plot line, several of which will be running at one time, overlapping, and they'll never all end at the same time. Programme runs till it gets canned (and if they see it coming far enough in advance there might be closure, like Brookside or Eldorado managed). There are no guest protagonists coming in for one or more episodes. Corrie occasionally doles out guest roles for multiple episodes (e.g. Ian McKellan's stint) but they won't be protagonist of a plot in the same way as the guest(s) of the week in a Casualty episode.

Precinct drama (Holby City, Casualty, The Bill in most of its incarnations) - has running soap plots for its main cast ongoing, but also has guest protagonists coming in for an episode or more. These guest plots might well reflect on or complicate a main character's ongoing soap plot. Can be running all year round, or can run in series with breaks, like Heartbeat for example.

Drama series (Bonekickers, Ashes to Ashes, Doctor Who) - do often tell one loose story over a series, or one story over all their series, but each episode stands on its own merit, more or less. Might have guest protagonists, but will definitely have one or more regular main characters. Obviously it's a broad spectrum - some series' episodes will be more self-contained than others.

Series where one year's run equals a serial (The Wire, 24) - special case of the above, quite popular nowadays. Each episode of a series can't be taken on it's own, but there's closure for some plots every year, and something of a jumping on point at the beginning of any new series. Some UK drama series are experimenting with this form for their latest runs (Torchwood, Spooks).

Anthology Series (Tales of the Unexpected, The Twilight Zone) - Diametrically opposite to a soap, I suppose. No running protagonist, new guest plot every week. Not that fashionable on British television at the moment. Unless I've forgotten a really obvious example, which I might well have done. I'll kick msyelf, I'm telling you...

Drama serials (Criminal Justice, Burn Up). One off multi-episode dramas. Could be multi-protagonist, but is the most likely of any of these to be single protagonist, as they are generally shorter and more focused.

Telenovella (the original Ugly Betty) - a long serial with soap style plots for its protagonists, but it eventually will come to a definite end.

But what I'm writing isn't exactly any of these. It's another type of beast, something like The Street, currently, or historically Boys from The Blackstuff as well as many others. It's a series of linked, sole protagonist episodes, based around a connected group of people, one of whom is centre-stage each week. The leads of other episodes might be in the other stories, substantially, or as walk-ons, or not there at all (in Life Support, I've taken the decision that they will all appear in every episode, the continuation of their individual plots still hinted at in the background.)

So, what I'm writing isn't totally unprecedented (phew! I'd be worried if it were) but what's it called? Is there an industry or academic standard term? The best the London Meet could come up with is Character Anthology, but that doesn't encapsulate the connectedness of the protagonists. And does it really matter? Suggestions to the usual address.

Delete As Applicable

After having been working, then having my son's second birthday party, then being ill, then going to a screenwriting festival, being ill again, sleeping for an entire weekend to recover from said festival, then working again... this weekend just gone was my first chance to get a power unit for my PC. But I didn't.

This means I can't yet load up photos to do Jason's meme (I'm not sure of the verb here, does one 'do' a meme?) but I will in due time.

The reason for not fixing the computer, aside from sheer laziness, is that it's forcing me to fill lots of notebooks with longhand about my Red Planet entry TV series idea - character biogs, back-story, episode ideas, and so on. Despite a strong urge to do so, I can't fire up Final Draft and start typing a script. And because I don't trust my sense of discipline, I am holding off from fixing the computer for a bit to keep it that way.

This, if you don't recognise it, is part of Robert McKee's method. Predictably, McKee took a few verbal beatings in different sessions at the Screenwriters' Festival, but I like his book 'Story' - it has some useful practical advice, and it's clear and well-argued with good examples. I also loved the lampooning of some of his excesses in 'Adaptation' too. As, I'm pretty sure, did McKee himself.

I don't agree with anyone who says 'Don't read any of the screenwriting manuals'. Read them all: Vogler, Field, Parker, etc., etc. All of them. And ignore them all if you want, or ignore bits of them, and use other bits.

None of them holds a secret or formula, but I think a lot of (probably old school and self-taught) writers worry that youngsters are going to be unduly influenced by these texts, and write too predictably. But let me tell you this: if you read anything and take it all at face value and never question it - you will never be a good writer anyway. That's our job, isn't it? To question everything, to pull at the seams of the visible and obvious and discover what's hidden. Why should it be any different just because we're reading a book about screenwriting?

And anyone who thinks McKee offers easy options has not read his book. It proposes research, thorough, thorough research on all aspects of the world of your story, trying out various options and discarding them to insure you are not slipping into cliches. For a feature, I think he advises a minimum of four months amassing material before typing so much as a 'FADE IN'.

Whether this is a good idea or not is entirely up to you. But I always find my work is better the more prep I do, and the more notebooks I fill up beforehand. Of course, I'm planning out an 8 x 60 minute series and I only have two months. But that's deadlines for you.

It is possible to do too much research as well, I suppose: a whole room filled with books about Napoleon - that's just crazy/genius.

Thanks to Tony Jordan

I am currently working on a TV drama series outline for the first time. I've done pretty much every other kind of spec work - sketches, shorts, features, radio plays, sit coms, 2 x 90-minute part TV serials - but I haven't before sat down and planned out characters and story for 6 or more hours of popular drama.

I've been putting it off, I suppose - I've got a folder full of ideas, but it never seemed worth doing before. Until Tony Jordan told me to.

No one, I calculated, was going to commission a series from me until I'd done more sketches, shorts, features, radio plays, sit coms, etc. So, I felt my time was probably better invested elsewhere. But Tony Jordan just might. I saw that gleam in his eye during Cheltenham - he is just about crazy wonderful enough to produce a drama series by a newcomer.

So, it's worth doing now. But it always was, I think. As an exercise, it is very challenging - I am planning enough material for 4 or 5 movies, and I can literally feel myself becoming a better writer as I work to craft it all into a satisfying whole. So: thank you Tony, for the inspiration.

At the launch (read all about it in Lord Arnopp's jolly good write up here), Mister Jordan said something along the lines of 'Not many people will have a spec TV series ready in a drawer'. Whereupon I saw a number of people in the audience, most of whom I knew, visibly suppressing the urge to thrust up their hand and say 'Me sir, me sir! I've got loads'. And as I've said, even I have a stack of ideas. So, the question was: what to pick?

In a quiet moment at the festival (yes - there were a few quiet moments, believe it or not!) I took out pad and pen and wrote down every one of my series ideas. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, the sore throat, or the alcohol poisoning, but they were all shit. I couldn't see the legs in any of 'em. So, I have gone with something completely new that occurred to me, bit by bit, in the days following the festival and that I've been developing since. A gamble? Yeah, but it's all a gamble anyway. And I think Tony would approve.

Besides, the Red Planet prize, as fun and important as it is, is only one target. Realistically, I have to be prepared that only the first ten pages will get read. But I will have a pilot and series breakdown to continue working on and refining. So everyone's a winner. Hooray and - if I might be so bold - marvellous!

Cubed

The Red Planet script I recently submitted was my first that utilised the ‘Power of Three’ peer review method, or at least a Chinese Whispers passed-down version of it. The experience was useful, but flawed. (This may be because I was using a Chinese Whispers passed-down version of it, having never attended Adrian Mead’s celebrated seminars where he expounds upon it properly).

Yesterday, I was musing about posting sometime soon about my experiences, as it may help someone learn from my mistakes (e.g. don’t use a Chinese Whispers passed-down version of it, you idiot!). Then, I read English Dave’s amusing recent post lambasting the whole process, even down to its name! So, it seemed timely to get my thoughts out there. And they are here:

In Robert McKee’s infamous tome, 'Story', he talks about pitching your script to someone, and watching their reactions: when are you losing them, when are they looking confused, excited etc.? This is a very useful thing to do for testing a pitch, and for testing the quality of your story. But, for a spec script, it’s all about how it reads, and – as anyone who follows Lucy Vee’s blog, will know – that read can go well or go badly, and this will often have nothing to do with the quality of your underlying story. So, what’s to do?

Amusingly, McKee tells us that the best reaction we could hope for is a hushed silence at the end of our pitch, as the pitchee takes in the God-like genius of our work. Anyone who has ever asked for peer review will know: this never happens. Never. (Or, at least, not to my scripts; and I suspect I am a God-like genius.) The reason for this is that, if you ask people what they think, they want to give you value. And blanket praise seems a bit empty; except to your Mum, maybe. (Your Mum – not mine: she’d give the late Alexander Walker a run for his money.)

Everyone thinks they’re a critic. And everyone is, of course, exactly right. So, who should review your work before you send it to the important someone who might want to make it?

1. You. You’re best placed to get this script right, but you’re biased. The only real way I’ve ever found to get the right objectivity is to leave a script in a drawer for a lengthy period. By then, though, that important competition deadline will probably have passed. Plus, there’s a lot of dick-swinging that goes on about rewriting. Yes, it’s important never to send out first drafts. But whenever I hear “I never show anything to anyone until I’ve done at least twenty drafts", I always think “What - no one?” All scripts are made for collaborative media, after all, or else you wouldn’t need a script; so, there’s something amiss to me in writing something so hermetically. But then, I’m not a rich, world-famous writer, so don’t take my advice.
2. Punters. There’s no shortage of them - we are all punters of TV and film, and we are all knowledgeable about what works and what doesn’t. But, unless you’re prepared to hand out scripts on the street, you’re going to have to know the person first. And that brings the problem of familiarity.
3. Friends and family with no screenwriting knowledge. Let’s face it - they’re probably going to be too easy on you, or too hard on you. The balance is hard to find, but not impossible.
4. Script reading services. Prohibitively expensive if you’re going to use them for every single draft of every piece of work you do. And readers employed by these services have their prejudices too. And it’s probably best to get more than one set of coverage on a screenplay to get a wider idea of its merits.
5. A screenwriters’ group of your peers. Screenwriters’ groups have two purposes: 1) to help people’s work become better with assistance and critique, and 2) to act as a friendly support group for aspiring/desperate writers. These two aims can end up being contradictory, and you often find ‘rules’ like “you must always start on something complimentary”. Which is no help to the writer if it’s a lie. You might find yourself in the position – as I have been – where you really want to say “This script has absolutely no redeeming features, and you should give up on it now”. But you keep quiet, and try to say bland things about what needs to be developed. Then, in the next session, it’s your turn and no one holds back. They tell you your latest opus is rubbish, and you’re wasting your time. You get upset. You leave the group never to return. True story. Ish.
6. Professional writers, producers or mentors higher up the chain that you. It’s hard to find someone who believes in you, and has the time enough to give feedback more than once in a while. I have been lucky enough to find more than one professional person who has offered to read my work on occasion, and has even tried to get it to people who might want to make it. Nothing’s come of these efforts, so far, but those contacts are there for ever (I hope). Whether they would still be speaking to me if I sent them scripts on a regular basis, though, is unlikely.
7. A virtual screenwriter’s group (i.e. your peers in the blogosphere). Similar issues to the screenwriter’s groups, but people find themselves able to be more honest in print, I think. And, there is the possibility that you might make contacts here that are in the process of becoming professional writers / producers / mentors, and will review and champion your work because they remember when you were very complimentary about them on their blog. (Everybody go to English Dave’s and say nice things. He might offer to read your work!)

As for the Power of Three method: I think it has many advantages, and specifically addresses some of the drawbacks I’ve mentioned above. The idea is to have three rounds of review, with three different people each time: 3 x 3. Hence the name – it’s got nothing to do with empowerment. It’s got nothing to do with the power of three, either, but it’s only a name, and it would be hard to sell a review method where you have to find 27 people to comment on your script.

The main drawbacks I found were mostly of my making: I’d missed the rule about only getting questions back from the reviewers, not comments or suggestions. Even if I had known, it’s hard to stop fellow writers making suggestions, so you need to be aware of it, and as disciplined as you need to be. A very wonderful, and much appreciated, PO3er gave me the note “I’d like to see more of the mother”. There’s not a lot I can do with that, unless I interpret it as “Where does the mother disappear off to?” But that might not be what he meant exactly.

Also, I hate the unbearable feeling of a being a clod. I get loads of notes in the first round saying “use less adverbs” and I always feel like I should have spotted that myself. Why do I use too many adverbs? I always do it. It’s my first draft sin (alright, one of them). Still, it’s cheaper for this to be pointed out by a scribo-mate than a professional script reading service.

I was unlucky with not getting stuff back in a timely fashion, and this seriously limited the time I had for my third round. I think it was my mistake for using this method for Red Planet. It’s a free competition, so obviously all my reviewers were working on their own entries, and I don’t want to be interrupting their script every five minutes to remind them to do feedback on mine.

Lastly, people sometimes argue. It didn’t happen to me, but I’ve heard tell of writer’s sending email after email explaining the intricacies of the screenplay that the reviewer has missed. You may even be tempted to reply clarifying something yourself. Don't. No one will thank you for it.

One final word about peer review: find a jaded cabbie.

I took a cab to the shoot of ‘Lent’ - a big deal for me, the first ever time a screenplay of mine was being professionally made. We were shooting near Pinewood (not actually in it, though - so near but so far) , so the driver had welcomed many film types into the back of his taxi over the years. He insisted that I pitch him the story while we drove, and I gave it my all. I'd been working on it solidly, and knew it inside out, and I swear it was the best I've ever told it.

I finished, dramatically, just as we were pulling up to the house where we were shooting. There was the crew, there were the vans, there was the camera. Best of all, there was the crane they'd just used for the opening shot. It looked very impressive, and I swelled with pride. The cabbie ruminated on my pitch for a second, then gestured towards the house, crew, crane, and camera, and said "This seems like a lot of old fuss, just for that." That's the last time I'm pompous enough to swell with pride, I can tell you. Welcome to the movies!

Links:

I’ve always wanted to put links at the bottom of a post, and feel like a big shot. So here they are. Hope they’re useful.

Adrian’s official, non-Chinese Whispers handout on Power of Three posted on Lucy’s blog

One of the reputable script reading services recommended therein!

English Dave’s recent post on Power of Three, and the informative comments made in reaction to it

David Bishop’s thoughts

An interview with Adrian Mead (Shooting People members only)

Robert Mckee’s Story Seminars

Can't think of a witty title about Red Planets to go here...

I have finally finished and sent off my entry to the Red Planet competition. Thank you to everybody that reviewed it for my Power of Three: you were all incredibly helpful. Cheers! Keep everything crossed for me (and yourself, because I assume almost everyone reading this will have submitted, or will be submitting, something too).

No time to rest: I'm - still - putting the finishing touches to my radio play 'Lollipops and Samaritans', and have another draft of a short film to do at the weekend. Then there's the small matter of researching and writing a period feature by the end of October. Phew!

Challenges

There’s been a bit of a gap between postings. Mea culpa - I’ve been busy. Work on many projects is continuing apace. My Red Planet script is shaping up nicely. Thanks to all those who've provided Power of Three feedback so far. I'm still waiting for some people to get back to me, though. They know who they are! (If you're reading this, I'd love to hear what you think of the script, so please do let me know.)

I don't really need any more challenges, so obviously a couple of wonderful ones are presenting themselves, and tempting me. The first is 2 Days Later which James is posting about, and judging this year. I would love to have a crack at this, and could probably find some suitably insane collaborators. But, even though it's only 48 hours, I'm not sure I can spare the time.

The second was a foolish drunken undertaking made the same evening that Christine (her cat likes Elvis, you know) committed herself to writing a Steam Punk film. I have until the end of the month to pull out, otherwise I must write a feature-length period screenplay through September and October (I'm not doing Steam Punk, though - that's just silly!). If I fail to produce said screenplay, I will be roundly mocked by my peers. Especially Piers. I probably won't also have to jump off any piers, but I wouldn't put it past them.

I've got a great idea, which has rolled around my head for a while. But the amount of research required to get period right has put me off until now. This would be a good impetus to get a first draft written. Or I could just drive myself mad. And sometime in September I wanted to have one of those holiday things that seem to be so popular nowadays. Dear reader, what should I do?

Progress Report (and ‘Power of Three’ Call Out)

It’s August already. Phew! I’m still keeping busy and have lots of projects on the go, which is great for my morale but doesn’t do much for the frequency of postings to this blog – I apologise for any breaks in transmission you may be experiencing. Still, there are already many (almost too many) lovely things out there to read and view: Robin Kelly has been posting on a method for developing a screenplay to enter into the Red Planet prize that I recommended highly. And head Shooter-scribe Andy Conway’s podcast with Tony Jordan is a must listen.

Besides enjoying those, here is what I’ve been up to:

Shorts. I’m in development on two 10-minute shorts with two wonderful directors, ‘Santa Baby’, a comedy, and a drama, ‘Second Date’. More details as things progress.

Radio. I’m currently finishing the latest draft of a 45-minute radio play, ‘Lollipops and Samaritans’. This will be sent in to the BBC Writers’ Room as my “Invite Next” script.

Features. Through August I will be redrafting ‘Sold Out’, the film screenplay that was short-listed in the Euroscript competition this year. The producer that I met through the Cheltenham Festival ScriptMarket wants to see the next draft, and Screen South may well be prepared to provide some development funding for it. This is encouraging, and makes up for some less good news on the feature front - the separate, paid feature gig that I had a chance of getting seems to be on hold at the moment. I still have hopes that it’ll happen one day, though.

TV. I’ve submitted something for the TAPS Nations and Regions showcase for Soap Writing. Has anyone else taken part in this scheme in the past, or applied to it this year? Fingers crossed for you, if you have.

Red Planet. I’ve completed a first draft of a 30-min TV screenplay called ‘Normal’ which is a possible entry for Tony Jordan’s screenwriting competition. I’m looking for kindly bloggers who are able to give me some Power of Three feedback on this script: if anyone is interested, please e-mail me (the address is in my profile). I will, of course, be prepared to return the favour. Cheers m’ dears.

That all seems much more impressive written down. I thought I was being lazy over the last few weeks: for a start, I took a couple of days out to read the Harry Potter book when it came out, to avoid seeing any spoilers posted on-line by insensitive souls. Great read. Can you believe that she killed off [censored]?