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...

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.

Screenwriting and Scones

Event: Screen South Information Day

Date: Monday 14th May 2007

Venue: Friends Meeting House, Brighton. A church hall, basically, but a nice one with free refreshments including home-made scones. This is a first - I have never before been to a screenwriting or filmmaking event where anyone has provided home-made scones. God bless the Quakers.

The Set Up: Screen South periodically hold these events across the region. The morning session involved brief talks / Q&A sessions from various speakers (see below). Lunch - not provided, alas! - was at 12:30pm, and the afternoon was taken up with individuals’ one-to-ones with a Screen South representative. Upon registering, one could book this interview, the first step towards applying for funding. Registration started at 9:30am. I got there at 9:35am, and I almost missed out on a slot, they’d filled up so quickly. So, first piece of advice is to get there early.

The speakers

Screen South: Jo Nolan, Miranda Robinson, and Vanessa Cook each spoke about the agency, its aims, its production and development department, the funding awards available, and how to apply. I’m not going to repeat a lot of this information, as it’s available from their website. But a few points of interest:

1. Database: if you are working in film in the region, and you haven't already done it, get your details in the database on the Screen South website. If you’re looking for local crew, this is the place to look.
2. Digital Shorts: the scheme will be running again in September / October. There will a roadshow when the scheme is launched, which will visit Brighton and other places.
3. RIFE (Regional Investment Fund for England) awards: funding that’s available throughout the year. Small awards (up to £500) run to monthly deadlines; large awards (up to £5000 for an individual, £10000 for an organisation) run quarterly. Application forms and guidelines are available from the website, and the application process will involve an interview or interviews with different panels, depending on the amount sought.
4. Production funding: there is no production funding available through Screen South (except for specific strands like Digital Shorts). But the situation is being looked into, and this may change.
5. Training funding: Screen South would expect an applicant to have approached Skillset first before applying for training costs from the RIFE awards. Skillset can cover up to 80% of training costs (see below).
6. Distribution funding: Applications can be made for funding to take completed shorts to festivals.

The most interesting section for me was a discussion about the typical path for a writer to apply for feature film development:

Stage 1 - Apply for £40 from the Small Awards fund to get script coverage from a reader that Screen South would arrange. This will be a 2-3 page report, and will take approximately two weeks. If you have already got coverage of this kind, you can submit this to Screen South, and – if it is to the required standard - you may be able to skip this stage.

Stage 2 - the coverage will be the basis of a redraft of the screenplay, which would be expected in no less than six weeks. This draft can then be submitted for an in-depth Script factory report (£80, again applied for from the RIFE small awards). This will be a 5-6 page report, and will take approximately six weeks.

Stage 3 - Another draft, and then the writer can apply for funding for a script editor to work with them to develop the material. After that, the writer will need to get a producer attached to the project to apply for further development funding. Screen South can provide advice on getting a producer, where the film sits in the market, and tips for moving it into pre-production.

Lighthouse: Sarah Flint, CEO. Lighthouse is one of the key regional partners to Screen South. Twenty-one years old this year, they provide professional development support for filmmakers, screenwriters and artists. Some training is available to all, some selectively based on an application. Sarah talked about some very exciting schemes coming soon, so keep an eye on their website. Successful last year was the ‘Guiding lights’ mentoring scheme. They hope to be running this again in 2007.

Lighthouse also hire out equipment, and rooms for meetings, events or screenings. Monthly, they hold their own networking events (a write up of a recent one is here).

Skillset: Rachael Duke, Film Fund Manager. Skillset has a film fund, and a TV freelance fund available, bankrolled by lottery money. The list of accepted training courses is on their website, and is quite extensive.

For training up to £800 in value, Skillset can pay 80%. Applications can be made at any time in the year, but you must have written confirmation that you’ve been accepted onto the course when you apply, and they cannot fund courses retrospectively. It’s worth planning ahead if you’re going to apply, to ensure you have enough time for the application to be processed – on average it takes four weeks per request.

You need to have demonstrable professional experience in the field for which you’re getting training; they can advise you on eligibility if you’re unsure (contact by telephone or e-mail).

BBC Writers’ Room: Paul Ashton’s session was covered in detail here.

One-to-one: Mine was at 3:30pm, which gave me time for a long lunch at The Hop Poles where I planned out the details of what I wanted to discuss. The interview was with Miranda, who I already know from working with her on my Digital Short. She answered my many questions helpfully, and we talked about the feature project. I left feeling very positive about my next steps.

Value for Money? It was free, so a big, fat YES. In fact, if you have a project that qualifies, these people can give you money. And home made scones.

Definitely recommended.

Interrogation, without the Bright Lights

'The Dark Art of Script Development'
[NB: Jason Arnopp has also summarised this event, and the page is linked to from his blog here.]

The Date:
Wednesday 9th May 2007

The Panellists:
Dan MacRae (DM) was formerly Deputy Head of the Development Fund at the UK Film Council and an Executive at Working Title; his credits include RED ROAD and the forthcoming ATONEMENT.

Sarah Golding (SG) is currently Head of Development for Potboiler Productions and was previously Head of Development for Skreba Films, Development Manager at Zenith Productions and Script Consultant for Yorkshire Television and Fair Game Films. Her credits include THE CONSTANT GARDENER, DEEP WATER, BROTHERS OF THE HEAD and the forthcoming THE BEST TIME OF OUR LIVES".

The venue:
Lighthouse in Brighton: very nice squishy leather sofas, and minimalist studio-style décor. The administration was efficient (though perhaps some handouts with the speakers’ biogs on wouldn’t have gone amiss), and the bottle bar was inexpensive by Brighton standards.

Value for money?
The Q&A went from 7:30 to 9:00pm, with informal networking before and after. Dan and Sarah made time for everyone who wanted to speak to them, and were very pleasant to chat to. It cost only a fiver, and was well worth it. Lighthouse has an event like this on every month, though sometimes with focus more on direction than writing, and I will definitely be looking to come along again.

Why was I there?
The process of script development is very important, and something that any serious scriptwriter should be aware of, but what I – and probably many others – were interested in was how to get our scripts and ideas into development in the first place. This was covered to some degree. Others in the audience wanted to talk about the difficulties inherent in the UK Film Industry, which did tend to get a bit repetitive (there’s no money, too many films are being made, not enough are being seen) but again, the panel were happy to share their thoughts.


The Questions and Answers:

What is this intangible thing called Script Development?
DM: Working with writers to generate an idea, or adaptation of an existing piece, and turn it into a script that will attract talent, funding, and ultimately an audience. The script editor works to translate the feelings of all the interested parties, like financiers or actors, to define the right vision, and achieve consistency for the project. To make some parts stronger, say, or more comedic, as required, without unbalancing the script as a whole.

SG: A different approach if you are a freelancer, rather than working for a big company. Script Development can be more like writer development, helping the writer to hone their skills, project by project and sell themselves as a writer. Helping production companies to accumulate a slate of projects.

What’s the difference between script development and script editing?
SG: To edit something it must exist
DM: Development takes something up to script; after that, editing takes over.

How can an editor ensure that the aims of the piece remain the writer’s rather than the editor’s?
SG: Ask them lots of questions before starting, make sure you’re on the same page; it's an interrogation, but without the bright lights.
DM: Sometimes it isn’t the writer’s aims that need protecting. In ‘Mr Bean’s Holiday’ Rowan Atkinson and Working Title had more input than the writer or director, but the people employed to do those jobs are picked accordingly and aware of this.

What’s the process of development?
DM: It varies every time. You have to identify ambition, identify audience, identify the budget required, and identify how that budget relates to the possibilities of the material. Gain the trust of the team, find a shared vocabulary, identify strengths and weakness and where to go next with a new draft: are you developing plot, or tone, or the world of the story? You’re finding out what the piece is about ultimately, and that is very satisfying.

Should writers or editors try to second-guess the wants of an audience?
SG: Your own taste should be your guide. If I respond well to this, there’s a good chance other people will too. But ‘analysis’ is a better term than ‘second-guessing’. You have to provide security for the money invested. What satisfaction does the audience expect of the genre?
DM: Audiences are well served by TV. What is your film doing that’s different? Bleak and downbeat stories don’t sell so well, so you must be aware of this when thinking about your budget.

Are table readings of scripts important?
DM: Yes, both the UK Film Council and Working title have arranged them. They are usually helpful for comedies, but not so much for dramas where there might be lots of stage directions to read out.

Should the editor research more than the writer?
DM: Yes, it’s very valuable to have explored the subject (but this if you’re working for a company and therefore getting paid for it).
SG: As a freelancer, I wouldn’t expect to do as much research as the writer. There’s not enough money to be a researcher as well as an editor.

What potential is there for new ideas in a world of franchises, adaptations, etc.?
DM: Financiers like to have something more tangible than just a pitch. And an existing property has a built-in audience, which provides them more comfort. So make it a very good idea.
SG: Or write a spec script.
DM: The great thing about being a writer is all you need to do is write.

How would you work with a writer-director that used improvisation? How would you get budget to do this without a script?
SG: Detailed treatments are required. Funding would be based on the reputation of the filmmakers involved. Get a track record in radio or stage plays. Trust equals money.
DM: Establish a structure. Again it comes down to budget.
SG: Or just go out and do it – but you’ll need to find the right actors.

How do you identify a good script?
DM: Something enjoyable, compelling, with characters you can care about. There’s no elitism or mystery, just a response to the material. Write a good script, not a perfect script – something to start a conversation.
SG: It’s not just about good writing, but finding work with a specific voice. This needs to be taken to the right sort of producer.

How important is a good writing style?
SG: Quite important- clumsy technique can put you off a script you’re reading.

How important is 3-act structure these days?
DM: It’s at the heart of genre cinema, but you don’t hear as much about it in the UK as you do in the US.

How would you give advice to a unique voice / auteur?
SG: They need funding from an arts body. Financiers don’t usually want this kind of work.
DM: Auteurs need money from across Europe. Script editing doesn’t exist in France, for example. But the UK is not an auteur country, it’s a genre country.
What genres?
DM: Comedy, Action, Rom-Com, Teen Movies, Family Movies…
SG: Or something with a bravura performance from a star.

But unknown writers don’t stand a chance, do they?
SG: Everyone’s an unknown at first.
DM: There’s no desire to shut out new writers.

And what about getting paid?
DM: You priority must be to work with producers that have money.
SG: Producers with a track record shouldn’t be asking you to work for no money. But if both you and the producer are at the start of your careers, you can take a risk on a project together.

What can you do when the writer/editor working relationship goes bad?
DM: Who’s running the show? If it’s the producer, they need to step in and resuce the project.
SG: Find a new script editor. Go back to a draft you were happy with, and work from there.

Have you ever wanted to be a writer yourself?
SG: Absolutely not! That's why I do the job I do - I don't want to take over from the writer, I'd rather work with them.


Final thoughts
Through the evening, there was also some sharing of script development horror stories from members of the audience, and from the panel. In all cases, it seems it is best to be clear about your intentions from the off, and not be afraid to revert to a previous draft.

My experience (working on 'Lent' ) was very positive, but when I first went in, I hadn't fully formed my aims for the piece and written them down. I would advise anyone in the same position to do this, even if you change your mind about the content later. Luckily, I had a development exec that helped me to understand the strengths of what I'd written - and pull those intentions out of my woolly subconscious and onto the page.