I'm awake at 5am. 5. A. M. And my watch is telling the correct time. I blogged Day 2 at 1.30am, for god's sake. What is wrong with me? I suspect it's the curry and the beer, and the general adrenaline buzz of being around such great screenwriting folk. Whatever the case, I'm awake.
Anyways, I don't feel too bad, and I watch the repeat of Match of the Day to keep me going 'till brekkie. I'm all bright eyed and bushy tailed, and make it to the festival just after 9am. I'm the first in the green room, and all seems quiet enough, but there's plenty of fresh coffe and I get stuck in.
The first session I attend is 'Hollywood Pitching' with David Reynolds (Pixar), Jonathan Newman (Foster) and Stuart Hazeldine (Exam). It's a lively, funny and informative session, full of tips on pitching in general, regardless of whether it's Hollywood or not.
Plenty of networking opportunities between sessions, and I enjoy an early lunch with Philip Shelley, Roland Moore, Lawrence Timms and Evan Leighton Davis, and grab some quick hellos with new friends.
After lunch, it's straight to the 'You're Commissioned!' panel (smoothly hosted by Jan Gilbert) with Roland Moore and Red Planet's own Robert Thorogood where they share their experience of creating and writing their own series, the lucky bastards. It all seems so simple. Well, um, not really. But it is possible! At the end of the session, I do a sneaky announcement of the impending launch of this year's Red Planet Prize (full details next week!).
I take it easy for a while, allowing myself some sugar to keep me awake, and then it's to the main stage for my final session (and the last of the fest) about 'Your Script and The 20 Most Common Pitfalls'. Hey, I started the festival on the main stage hosting a session and now I'm finishing it on the main stage as part of a panel. Now THAT'S the Chicago way. Or something.
It's a cracking panel that includes Paul Andrew Williams, Daniel Eckhart, Evan Leighton Davis and Steven Russell. We do a broad chat on some common mistakes, covering plenty of ground between dodgy creative choices in a script to equally dodgy approach tactics when you're trying to get a producer to read your work. There's some really good questions from the audience, too. Very enjoyable.
The discussion ends, and everyone gathers for the final send-off from festival guru Chris Jones. Sadly, I don't have time to stick around, and I head for Waterloo to get the train home (with Dom 'Schmoozer Is My Middle Name' Carver for company).
My phone is still playing silly buggers with its Bluetooth so, with muchos regret, I have no photos to share. My favourite photo of the festival is on Tim's iPhone, where he happily poses with his new agent Janice Day. But I'll let him fill in the details there.
HUGE thanks, and hats off, to Chris and his festival team for staging a terrific event; really slick, friendly and well-organised. Let's hope the festival becomes a firm fixture in the screenwriting calendar for many a year to come. As for now, time to go offline, go to bed, and tomorrow - get writing.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
London Screenwriters Festival 2011: Day 2
Had to endure truly appalling weather on my way to the train on Thursday night. So much so that once I hit the nation's capital, I had to buy a new pair of shoes to avoid walking around the whole weekend with squelching feet.
On Friday, Day 1 (keep up, yeah?), I had dutifully broken in these substitute shoes (£25, JD Sports, BARGAIN) by shlepping around Regent's College and Maryleborne High Street, happily teasing fellow delegates with the promise of delicious kebabs.
Saturday morning, then. Day 2 of the Screenwriters Festival. I'm ready to rock. That is, I'm ready to write! Instead of going directly to the mother ship, I stay put at my hotel, trying to make up for a few hours of work that the shenanigans of Thursday and Friday sucked up.
Despite being mildly hungover and not having much sleep, I have a Full English and load up the laptop. I put the #LondonSWF on standby to keep me up-to-date on anything that I might miss, and I get cracking on my current rewrite. Three hours later, and I've done solid writing work, and am ready to join the throng.
First up, at 2pm, 'Don't Wait to Be Discovered' by Christian Routh. Here, Mr Routh laid down his key tips about sales and marketing, and what a writer might need to consider when packaging or developing a script. Loglines, taglines, synopses, teaser trailers, etc. Useful stuff all round.
A brief networking break followed, and I was all set to attend 'Writing Fantastical TV' with Messrs Arnopp et al, until a unexpected twist of fate right at the last moment found me at the 'Failure to Launch' session, about why the first ten pages of your script are crucial. This had some golden nuggets of wisdom and advice, which was suitably packed-out in the main hall.
The subtext to the whole day though was 'FREE BAR' and this affected many people's choices of attending the final sessions of the day. Unsurprisingly, a good handful of delegates (me included) formed a random queue for the free bar that was being lined up by the Wellcome Trust at 6pm. There was a sudden scrum of orders, and poof, just like Keyser Soze, the free bar was gone, just like that. Cheers!
Lots of networking and good banter available here, and I finally get to catch up with Robert Thorogood, writer of Death in Paradise (via Red Planet Prize!), who I literally haven't seen since we had one too many cosmopolitans at Working Title's Christmas party in 2007.
By 9pm, with beer flowing, I need me some food. Luckily, Tim Clague agrees, and we rope in writing pal Rudolf Kremers for a curry down the road. It turns out the to be the BEST CURRY IN THE WORLD, no word of a lie. Tim's photo proof:
As I digest, I try to programme my new digital wristwatch (seen above) to accommodate the clocks going back but I get myself into a muddle, and suddenly, by my reckoning, it's 8pm. Tim and Rudolf mock me for my pathetic understanding of time, and we head for our hotels.
On my way back, I bump into fellow writing Corkman, Brian McEvilly, who tries to tease me into a local pub where a merry band of screenwriting delegates are enjoying a nightcap. Do I accept? HELLYES. Hey, you only live once you know, 8pm or not. One pint later and the barmaid says it's midnight and we have to go. MY WATCH SAYS IT'S 9PM, SHE HASN'T A CLUE, HAHAHAHAHA!
I fix my watch to the right time and return to my hotel, having a good chinwag with punk-haired Sean Kelly on the way (not Irish, or Cork, as far as I know).
For some reason, my WiFi service at the hotel is improved but my Bluetooth on my phone isn't working, so I can't update my photos of the day/evening. Instead, I can only regale you with photos stolen from Tim's Facebook. What time is it again?
(Me and an empty tub of yoghurt. It was raspberry.)
(I share an HILARIOUS joke-text with Chris Hill but he remains unmoved)
On Friday, Day 1 (keep up, yeah?), I had dutifully broken in these substitute shoes (£25, JD Sports, BARGAIN) by shlepping around Regent's College and Maryleborne High Street, happily teasing fellow delegates with the promise of delicious kebabs.
Saturday morning, then. Day 2 of the Screenwriters Festival. I'm ready to rock. That is, I'm ready to write! Instead of going directly to the mother ship, I stay put at my hotel, trying to make up for a few hours of work that the shenanigans of Thursday and Friday sucked up.
Despite being mildly hungover and not having much sleep, I have a Full English and load up the laptop. I put the #LondonSWF on standby to keep me up-to-date on anything that I might miss, and I get cracking on my current rewrite. Three hours later, and I've done solid writing work, and am ready to join the throng.
First up, at 2pm, 'Don't Wait to Be Discovered' by Christian Routh. Here, Mr Routh laid down his key tips about sales and marketing, and what a writer might need to consider when packaging or developing a script. Loglines, taglines, synopses, teaser trailers, etc. Useful stuff all round.
A brief networking break followed, and I was all set to attend 'Writing Fantastical TV' with Messrs Arnopp et al, until a unexpected twist of fate right at the last moment found me at the 'Failure to Launch' session, about why the first ten pages of your script are crucial. This had some golden nuggets of wisdom and advice, which was suitably packed-out in the main hall.
The subtext to the whole day though was 'FREE BAR' and this affected many people's choices of attending the final sessions of the day. Unsurprisingly, a good handful of delegates (me included) formed a random queue for the free bar that was being lined up by the Wellcome Trust at 6pm. There was a sudden scrum of orders, and poof, just like Keyser Soze, the free bar was gone, just like that. Cheers!
Lots of networking and good banter available here, and I finally get to catch up with Robert Thorogood, writer of Death in Paradise (via Red Planet Prize!), who I literally haven't seen since we had one too many cosmopolitans at Working Title's Christmas party in 2007.
By 9pm, with beer flowing, I need me some food. Luckily, Tim Clague agrees, and we rope in writing pal Rudolf Kremers for a curry down the road. It turns out the to be the BEST CURRY IN THE WORLD, no word of a lie. Tim's photo proof:
As I digest, I try to programme my new digital wristwatch (seen above) to accommodate the clocks going back but I get myself into a muddle, and suddenly, by my reckoning, it's 8pm. Tim and Rudolf mock me for my pathetic understanding of time, and we head for our hotels.
On my way back, I bump into fellow writing Corkman, Brian McEvilly, who tries to tease me into a local pub where a merry band of screenwriting delegates are enjoying a nightcap. Do I accept? HELLYES. Hey, you only live once you know, 8pm or not. One pint later and the barmaid says it's midnight and we have to go. MY WATCH SAYS IT'S 9PM, SHE HASN'T A CLUE, HAHAHAHAHA!
I fix my watch to the right time and return to my hotel, having a good chinwag with punk-haired Sean Kelly on the way (not Irish, or Cork, as far as I know).
For some reason, my WiFi service at the hotel is improved but my Bluetooth on my phone isn't working, so I can't update my photos of the day/evening. Instead, I can only regale you with photos stolen from Tim's Facebook. What time is it again?
(Me and an empty tub of yoghurt. It was raspberry.)
(I share an HILARIOUS joke-text with Chris Hill but he remains unmoved)
Saturday, October 29, 2011
London Screenwriters Festival 2011: Day 1
The second London Screenwriters Festival got underway with a lot of style today. Here's what I did:
10:30am I'm hosting the first session of the day, after the keynote speech. The first session! And it's in the main hall! No pressure, then. Hey, pressure's for tyres. OK, so I'm a bit nervous.
I've never actually moderated a panel before and the line-up's pretty impressive: Martin Gooch, Vadim Jean, Berni Corbett and Chris Hill. We're there to deliver 50 tips about breaking into the business. It's officially 'Another 50 tips', as they had a similar session last year, but they only got through around 7 tips and had a general chat.
I'm determined to get through 50 tips, so, with the help of my fellow panellists, I've compiled a list beforehand so that the audience get bang for their buck (list available as handout via the festival). Tim bets me a tenner that we won't get through all 50 tips. We get through around 40, which is pretty good going, but the chat doesn't feel like a dull list checkpoint. I think it went OK. I officially brand it THE BEST SESSION OF THE FESTIVAL, mainly because it's the first session, and there's no other session to compare it to yet, but hey, whatevs.
We have a scriptchat afterward with a few eager scribes who have questions, and then it's lunch already. I bulk up on the salad bar. It's this kind of detail that keeps you glued to the blog, I know.
(Tim tweets for @UKscriptwriters!)
After lunch, it's straight to the cinema for a Q&A with Edgar Wright, a last minute addition to the schedule. Edgar is easygoing, charming and candid, and gives good detail about how his career started, how it developed and how he's got to Hollywood.
(Photo of bald man with hat, watching Chris Jones & Edgar Wright)
The next Q&A, in the main hall, is with Joe Cornish, the perfect sequel to Edgar's Spaced-out chat. Joe is equally easygoing, charming and candid, and gives good detail about how he wrote Attack the Block, and what it was like writing for Spielberg (for TinTin, which he wrote with Edgar). The key theme that I take away from both their talks, however, is the VALUE OF RESEARCH, and how it can inform everything, even the most mundane or trivial research topics.
(Joe Cornish hides his pet hamster inside his jacket before the Q&A begins)
There are half hour gaps in between each session, which gives everyone plenty of time to network, get caffeinated or take time-out, or all three.
Tim's hosting a talk about writing for games, so I head along to that with Chris Hill, and we enjoy the wit and wisdom of Tim's vastly experienced panel.
(Tim finally figures out what hashtags are for on Twitter)
Time for the bar! After a couple of sherberts, I duck out for a kebab on Maryleborne High Street - delicious! - but even though I'm only gone for a half an hour, the bar crowd has significantly thinned-out on my return. Me, Chris Hill, Alli Parker and Andy Conway stick around till closing, and are the last to leave the bar. We're, like, so not tired, so we grab a nightcap on Maryleborne High Street (although we lose Alli along the way). I pitch Chris and Andy the delights of my earlier kebab and now they want a piece of the action but when we follow the trail, the kebab shop's just closing up. Denied!
There you have it. A terrific day of screenwriting buzz, and in great company with new and familiar faces. Roll on day two!
10:30am I'm hosting the first session of the day, after the keynote speech. The first session! And it's in the main hall! No pressure, then. Hey, pressure's for tyres. OK, so I'm a bit nervous.
I've never actually moderated a panel before and the line-up's pretty impressive: Martin Gooch, Vadim Jean, Berni Corbett and Chris Hill. We're there to deliver 50 tips about breaking into the business. It's officially 'Another 50 tips', as they had a similar session last year, but they only got through around 7 tips and had a general chat.
I'm determined to get through 50 tips, so, with the help of my fellow panellists, I've compiled a list beforehand so that the audience get bang for their buck (list available as handout via the festival). Tim bets me a tenner that we won't get through all 50 tips. We get through around 40, which is pretty good going, but the chat doesn't feel like a dull list checkpoint. I think it went OK. I officially brand it THE BEST SESSION OF THE FESTIVAL, mainly because it's the first session, and there's no other session to compare it to yet, but hey, whatevs.
We have a scriptchat afterward with a few eager scribes who have questions, and then it's lunch already. I bulk up on the salad bar. It's this kind of detail that keeps you glued to the blog, I know.
(Tim tweets for @UKscriptwriters!)
After lunch, it's straight to the cinema for a Q&A with Edgar Wright, a last minute addition to the schedule. Edgar is easygoing, charming and candid, and gives good detail about how his career started, how it developed and how he's got to Hollywood.
(Photo of bald man with hat, watching Chris Jones & Edgar Wright)
The next Q&A, in the main hall, is with Joe Cornish, the perfect sequel to Edgar's Spaced-out chat. Joe is equally easygoing, charming and candid, and gives good detail about how he wrote Attack the Block, and what it was like writing for Spielberg (for TinTin, which he wrote with Edgar). The key theme that I take away from both their talks, however, is the VALUE OF RESEARCH, and how it can inform everything, even the most mundane or trivial research topics.
(Joe Cornish hides his pet hamster inside his jacket before the Q&A begins)
There are half hour gaps in between each session, which gives everyone plenty of time to network, get caffeinated or take time-out, or all three.
Tim's hosting a talk about writing for games, so I head along to that with Chris Hill, and we enjoy the wit and wisdom of Tim's vastly experienced panel.
(Tim finally figures out what hashtags are for on Twitter)
Time for the bar! After a couple of sherberts, I duck out for a kebab on Maryleborne High Street - delicious! - but even though I'm only gone for a half an hour, the bar crowd has significantly thinned-out on my return. Me, Chris Hill, Alli Parker and Andy Conway stick around till closing, and are the last to leave the bar. We're, like, so not tired, so we grab a nightcap on Maryleborne High Street (although we lose Alli along the way). I pitch Chris and Andy the delights of my earlier kebab and now they want a piece of the action but when we follow the trail, the kebab shop's just closing up. Denied!
There you have it. A terrific day of screenwriting buzz, and in great company with new and familiar faces. Roll on day two!
Monday, October 24, 2011
London Screenwriters Festival 2011
Who's going to the London Screenwriters Festival this year? I'll be there for the whole weekend (The. Whole. Weekend. *giddy laugh*) and will be talking on a few panels, too, namely: Another 50 Ways Into The Biz, 20 Common Pitfalls of Scripts and possibly one or two others yet to be finalised, plus news on this year's Red Planet Prize. We'll also try to grab a few soundbites and/or interviews for the UK Scriptwriters podcast. It's all kicking off!
The schedule is shaping up HERE, and it all looks to be bigger and better than last year. If you're thinking of going but still haven't bought your ticket, then hurry up as it's 95% sold out. Get £30 off with discount code SCRIPTWRITINGUK (all caps). See you at t̶h̶e̶ ̶b̶a̶r̶ the various inspiring and informative sessions!
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Short Film Festival Strategy
Origin, my supernatural short film, is going to screen at the Purbeck Film Festival on Friday 21st October (WAHEY!). Details here. Never heard of Origin? Watch the trailer, or read all about how I went about making it.
ORIGIN Production Diary, Day 1
ORIGIN Production Diary, Day 2
ORIGIN Production Diary, Day 3
ORIGIN Production Diary, Day 4
ORIGIN Cast & Crew
Purbeck Film Festival marks the sixth festival that Origin has played. Coincidentally, someone asked me about what kind of festival strategy you should have once you have a short film in the can, so here are a few thoughts on that very subject. But first, here's a photo of me directing a few trees on the set of Origin. Look how I get them inspired to act!
You can never start too early with a festival strategy. It helps to know what kind of festivals you have in mind while you're prepping the script, never mind post-production.
So, the first consideration is: what type of film is my short? Of course, we all think our films are great, or will be great, but the answer needs to come with cold perspective and slicing honesty.
For example, is it, or will it be, a perfectly well-made short that's decent and presentable but not particularly original/distinctive with its idea, story or execution (the majority of short films). If a short falls into that category, then you can plan to go far and wide with the festival submission, load up your details on Withoutabox and cry as your credit card gets stung as quickly as a swarm of a thousand bees pouncing on your sensitive skin.
If you've got a short that you genuinely, GENUINELY, think is something special, then you can plan to be a bit more ambitious. For example, hold out for the BIG festivals that only accept a short if it receives its world premiere at its festival, like Cannes (NOT Short Film Corner, any schlub can upload a film there), Edinburgh (although I think their premiere rules have changed), Sundance (who, surprisingly, don't have premiere rules, but they are big) etc. The downside of this is WAITING for these festivals to come around (you could have your film ready, essentially doing nothing while you wait for the likely rejection), and you've wasted valuable time in your short film's festival lifespan (typically around 18 months after your film is finished).
Most filmmakers think they have a short film that falls somewhere between the first category (a decent short) and the latter category (this will win an Oscar!!). This pushes you to submit to the bigger festivals but also hit the well-established (Raindance, London Short Film Festival etc). A lot of filmmakers get disappointed and disillusioned when they can't get in to any of these (competition is FIERCE with a capital FIERCE), and end up having to be content by getting into some local film festival being held by a bunch of students in a barn.
It's good to be ambitious with submitting your short to big festivals, especially if you really believe in your film, but be realistic, and go for the well-established and boutique festivals (lots of smaller but well-respected festivals around, like Brancharge and Berlin British Shorts).
It all depends on how much budget you have for festival submission, and if your strategy matches your funds. Sending it to the big festivals, and as many as you can find, will cost a lot of money; not to mention the DVD duplication and promotional materials. Try to allocate a budget now so you know you have the money to go for the festivals you want, when the time comes. The submission/acceptance ratio goes something like 1 festival entry to 6 festival rejections. So that's a slog of seven submissions before you get into just one! And the cycle continues!
For Origin, I had such a nightmare trying to finish the film that it sucked up all my resources. When it came to festival submission, I could only afford a good handful, and naturally I went for the big ones. I took a chance and submitted it to other festivals, and I thought whatever festival came first got the premiere (which was at Brancharge).
I would have loved to have had wider festival exposure but I simply ran out of funds and energy (festival submission is exhausting and demoralising). On the plus side, there are well-respected festivals that are FREE to enter, so that's good, but a bit hit and miss.
While getting your film into a festival is exciting and a great boost of confidence, the actual experience of the festival can be quite flat and disappointing, as the audience is either full of the other short filmmakers in your line-up, or worse, the screening is barely attended. But if your film gets nominated or wins something, then that's the real kicker to help promote your film to execs and the industry at large.
For much more information, check out Film Festival Secrets. There's also a great download from Scottish Screen called 'I've Made a Short, Now What?' and Chris Jones has an excellent online seminar, which is very practical and inspirational (I did it before I started Origin).
Also, the British Council help short filmmakers by submitting the film to various festivals on your behalf. Of course, you have to apply, and they're quite picky, but the festivals they have lined-up usually qualify for BAFTA and Oscar consideration, so it's well worth a punt. If the British Council say no, you can always apply to the BAFTA/Oscar-credited festivals yourself, which is what you'll probably be doing anyway because, well, your film is special, right?
ORIGIN Production Diary, Day 1
ORIGIN Production Diary, Day 2
ORIGIN Production Diary, Day 3
ORIGIN Production Diary, Day 4
ORIGIN Cast & Crew
Purbeck Film Festival marks the sixth festival that Origin has played. Coincidentally, someone asked me about what kind of festival strategy you should have once you have a short film in the can, so here are a few thoughts on that very subject. But first, here's a photo of me directing a few trees on the set of Origin. Look how I get them inspired to act!
You can never start too early with a festival strategy. It helps to know what kind of festivals you have in mind while you're prepping the script, never mind post-production.
So, the first consideration is: what type of film is my short? Of course, we all think our films are great, or will be great, but the answer needs to come with cold perspective and slicing honesty.
For example, is it, or will it be, a perfectly well-made short that's decent and presentable but not particularly original/distinctive with its idea, story or execution (the majority of short films). If a short falls into that category, then you can plan to go far and wide with the festival submission, load up your details on Withoutabox and cry as your credit card gets stung as quickly as a swarm of a thousand bees pouncing on your sensitive skin.
If you've got a short that you genuinely, GENUINELY, think is something special, then you can plan to be a bit more ambitious. For example, hold out for the BIG festivals that only accept a short if it receives its world premiere at its festival, like Cannes (NOT Short Film Corner, any schlub can upload a film there), Edinburgh (although I think their premiere rules have changed), Sundance (who, surprisingly, don't have premiere rules, but they are big) etc. The downside of this is WAITING for these festivals to come around (you could have your film ready, essentially doing nothing while you wait for the likely rejection), and you've wasted valuable time in your short film's festival lifespan (typically around 18 months after your film is finished).
Most filmmakers think they have a short film that falls somewhere between the first category (a decent short) and the latter category (this will win an Oscar!!). This pushes you to submit to the bigger festivals but also hit the well-established (Raindance, London Short Film Festival etc). A lot of filmmakers get disappointed and disillusioned when they can't get in to any of these (competition is FIERCE with a capital FIERCE), and end up having to be content by getting into some local film festival being held by a bunch of students in a barn.
It's good to be ambitious with submitting your short to big festivals, especially if you really believe in your film, but be realistic, and go for the well-established and boutique festivals (lots of smaller but well-respected festivals around, like Brancharge and Berlin British Shorts).
It all depends on how much budget you have for festival submission, and if your strategy matches your funds. Sending it to the big festivals, and as many as you can find, will cost a lot of money; not to mention the DVD duplication and promotional materials. Try to allocate a budget now so you know you have the money to go for the festivals you want, when the time comes. The submission/acceptance ratio goes something like 1 festival entry to 6 festival rejections. So that's a slog of seven submissions before you get into just one! And the cycle continues!
For Origin, I had such a nightmare trying to finish the film that it sucked up all my resources. When it came to festival submission, I could only afford a good handful, and naturally I went for the big ones. I took a chance and submitted it to other festivals, and I thought whatever festival came first got the premiere (which was at Brancharge).
I would have loved to have had wider festival exposure but I simply ran out of funds and energy (festival submission is exhausting and demoralising). On the plus side, there are well-respected festivals that are FREE to enter, so that's good, but a bit hit and miss.
While getting your film into a festival is exciting and a great boost of confidence, the actual experience of the festival can be quite flat and disappointing, as the audience is either full of the other short filmmakers in your line-up, or worse, the screening is barely attended. But if your film gets nominated or wins something, then that's the real kicker to help promote your film to execs and the industry at large.
For much more information, check out Film Festival Secrets. There's also a great download from Scottish Screen called 'I've Made a Short, Now What?' and Chris Jones has an excellent online seminar, which is very practical and inspirational (I did it before I started Origin).
Also, the British Council help short filmmakers by submitting the film to various festivals on your behalf. Of course, you have to apply, and they're quite picky, but the festivals they have lined-up usually qualify for BAFTA and Oscar consideration, so it's well worth a punt. If the British Council say no, you can always apply to the BAFTA/Oscar-credited festivals yourself, which is what you'll probably be doing anyway because, well, your film is special, right?
Thursday, October 13, 2011
The Rule of Hard Work
There are no shortcuts to success. If you want to progress in the world of screenwriting, you're going to have to put your head down and write. However, writing a script is just the basic essential. Now you have to pitch and hustle for work, and start writing a new script (or two). It's an endless and demanding cycle. It's bloody hard, and the constant rejections slice a dagger in your heart at every turn.
We're not really programmed to seek out difficult situations in our lives. The human condition prefers to take the path of least conflict so it's only natural to lean on books, courses, opportunities and technological devices to make our screenwriting lives easier. These sideshows of support are useful, of course. They provide some knowledge and inspiration, and sometimes even lead to work, but don't get sucked into embracing this milieu as the way to live your life.
Whenever people can't access the internet, they wail in anguish that they can't do any work (the recent Blackberry meltdown led to some people 'unable to function' as they couldn't message each other, or update Facebook, or whatever it was they needed to do, and some of these complaints from companies in the City!). This form of reliance on an external influence gives a false sense of importance to your personal working habits; a necessary distraction to maintain a decent display of being busy.
But how busy are you really being? Are you reading (and developing envy) about other people's luck rather than forging your own success through your own hard graft? Spending too much time online ostensibly networking but essentially not working? Or even seeking out blog posts like these to stir the screenwriting muse? If these questions strike a chord, then be brutally honest with yourself in terms of how productive you are with your writing habits and modes of procrastination. Change your routine accordingly. Write. Work. Repeat.
If you examine any person's success, there is one guaranteed element that helped them earn their place at the table: they worked extremely hard. Their sheer focus and grunt effort will far outweigh any slice of luck or favour that may have helped them along the way. Indeed, it's only through proactive endeavour that favours and opportunities arise ('the harder I work, the luckier I get', a fitting quote from Samuel Goldwyn, film producer). So, by all means embrace the technology or opportunities that may help you gain screenwriting success but there is no substitute for constant hard grind - not just to get ahead, but to stay ahead, too.
We're not really programmed to seek out difficult situations in our lives. The human condition prefers to take the path of least conflict so it's only natural to lean on books, courses, opportunities and technological devices to make our screenwriting lives easier. These sideshows of support are useful, of course. They provide some knowledge and inspiration, and sometimes even lead to work, but don't get sucked into embracing this milieu as the way to live your life.
Whenever people can't access the internet, they wail in anguish that they can't do any work (the recent Blackberry meltdown led to some people 'unable to function' as they couldn't message each other, or update Facebook, or whatever it was they needed to do, and some of these complaints from companies in the City!). This form of reliance on an external influence gives a false sense of importance to your personal working habits; a necessary distraction to maintain a decent display of being busy.
But how busy are you really being? Are you reading (and developing envy) about other people's luck rather than forging your own success through your own hard graft? Spending too much time online ostensibly networking but essentially not working? Or even seeking out blog posts like these to stir the screenwriting muse? If these questions strike a chord, then be brutally honest with yourself in terms of how productive you are with your writing habits and modes of procrastination. Change your routine accordingly. Write. Work. Repeat.
If you examine any person's success, there is one guaranteed element that helped them earn their place at the table: they worked extremely hard. Their sheer focus and grunt effort will far outweigh any slice of luck or favour that may have helped them along the way. Indeed, it's only through proactive endeavour that favours and opportunities arise ('the harder I work, the luckier I get', a fitting quote from Samuel Goldwyn, film producer). So, by all means embrace the technology or opportunities that may help you gain screenwriting success but there is no substitute for constant hard grind - not just to get ahead, but to stay ahead, too.
Wednesday, October 05, 2011
Crowd Dialogue
In the latest UK Scriptwriters podcast, Tim and I discuss dialogue: the good, the bad and the exposition. I got this follow up Q, which might be of interest:
"If you are creating dialogue that reflects a crowd's uttering and you want the speakers to be heard but not seen can you put them under a title of 'Various' and how do you separate each speaker in the dialogue text?"
Yes, you could put 'Various', that would work, something like:
Or you could put 'Crowd' instead of 'Various'. Or space out each line to an individual crowd member:
As long as it's clear and doesn't disrupt the story, or the reader's understanding of what's happening, then you should be fine.
"If you are creating dialogue that reflects a crowd's uttering and you want the speakers to be heard but not seen can you put them under a title of 'Various' and how do you separate each speaker in the dialogue text?"
Yes, you could put 'Various', that would work, something like:
Or you could put 'Crowd' instead of 'Various'. Or space out each line to an individual crowd member:
As long as it's clear and doesn't disrupt the story, or the reader's understanding of what's happening, then you should be fine.
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