metaphorically, physically, and psychically.
Bop bop shoo-be-doo-wop.
(Don't send me your answers. This is just a little way to expand your horizons. Honest.)
Darin and I went out to lunch with Brent today. We discussed the Saturday Night Live 25th Anniversary show (which only Darin had seen) and the Buffy issue of Entertainment Weekly (this week's issue; all Buffy-fans should run out and buy it).
During the discussion of Saturday Night Live I mentioned that I'd seen a Biography of Richard Pryor, which mentioned the time that Pryor hosted SNL and the censors delayed the broadcast by 7 seconds, in order to bleep out any bad words Pryor might say.
How old am I? I remember that episode. I didn't know who Richard Pryor was--though some friends had told me about this totally hysterical movie Silver Streak--but I knew that he might do something the TV people might not like. I watched it.
Brent paid for lunch. This surprised me, because usually we divide up things pretty equally. But as Andy Swartz (a co-worker at Apple Computer once said) once said, paying for lunch all works out karmically in the end: you buy lunch for someone, they buy lunch for someone else, and so on until someone else buys you lunch.
There was a time in my life where I absolutely wouldn't let anyone pay for anything for me. This was at roughly the same time that I could not take a compliment and actively fought receiving them. A couple of things changed my attitude: one was reading an Agatha Christie novel in which Poirot simply says, "Thank you," in response to a compliment--so simple! so elegant! so polite! so ego-boosting!--and somehow coming up with the following philosophy:
If someone offers to pay for lunch and you feel as though you should object, do so once. If they still offer to pay for lunch, say "Thank you" and accept. Either
- they honestly mean it, in which case it is a nice gesture and you should be grateful, or
- you will help break them of a really bad habit of making a big gesture over the cheque when they have no intention of actually paying it.
I wouldn't say I've gotten comfortable with either compliments or bought lunches, but I've learned to keep my feelings to myself. 'Cause no one wants to hear it.
I've been having baby dreams. I've had one in which the baby was pretty much just a head--and a doll head at that--and I knew there was something wrong, but everyone assured me the body would grow in. (This comes from my sister telling me that pretty much you deliver a head; the body is trivial to deliver.) And I've had a dream in which I misplaced the baby and hadn't a clue where to go look for it.
I don't think I've had that many baby dreams. Most of the dreams I've had recently have really sucked (in addition to being Heavily Symbolic). I can't remember the last time I had a really happy dream, or a dream that I woke up feeling good from. It's rather draining.
My sleep schedule has gotten all messed up recently, which isn't helping. Darin's sleep schedule has gotten seriously wacky, which has affected mine. He's been involved in a heavy-duty contract negotiation, which is always stressful, and the way he deals with stress is to stay up late, because he has so much extra energy. I don't fall asleep as easily when he isn't with me, so I've been staying up later than I normally would (though not as late as he is), and waking up around the same time he is--11am.
Darin's also gotten frenetic, particularly about all the changes we have to make to the house for the baby. It's not just that he's making lists of stuff we have to do--but when he starts thinking about it, he needs to start doing something right then. We discussed stuff to store in the garage...and the next thing we knew he was taking boxes out of the interior storage closet to put in the garage storage closet. (Of course, he didn't finish this, so now there are a bunch of boxes stored on top of our washer/dryer.)
One thing that has been made clear as we try to find room to put a baby in this house is that we have a lot of stuff. We have a four-bedroom house and the two of us have filled the whole damn thing. Partially this is because I bought an apartment full of furniture to live in while at USC, and we all know that lasted 6 months. Plus when we moved in we bought some new furniture, without getting rid of the furniture from our condo from up north. (We're not good at getting rid of big stuff--Darin's solution is always to give it to Goodwill, which drives me nuts; I want to sell it, which is simply too much work for him and not worth the time/effort ratio.)
God forbid we have a second child. We'll have to buy a new house.
Damn. I haven't worked out a complete story for my new script yet--hereafter referred to as (yes) the Baby Script. (Mary had one of these too--she came up with her Disney script idea in her first trimester because she wanted to work on something nurturing.) I really want to get the first draft done fast, 'cause I know it's going to change once I get it done. This is how I put a script together:
- Get an idea. This is harder than it sounds, since it should be both a good idea and one that excites me. I've abandoned an idea recently because I don't think it will go over big, even though I still think it's a good idea. I have to come up with that one twist that will make it a stellar project for everyone else.
- Figure out what the ending is. This is key in a screenplay. You should know where you're going. Maybe it gets changed later. Usually I come up with the final bit of dialogue or the final shot, which (I'm sure this surprises you) is usually something really sarcastic or ironic.
- Work out the characters. Sometimes I start with a character, but usually I start with a "what if"--"What if the US decided to make Great Britain a colony?"--and then figure out what characters I would need at the very least to get this story in motion and what they're like.
An intensely important part of this process is figuring out who the main character is. Yes, there are plenty of movies where there are several main characters, yadda yadda. Usually, however, there is a main character who drives the action.
- Work out the major plot points. Plot points are the places where major plot elements are introduced and the action spins in a new direction. "Oh my, I have discovered an asteroid heading toward Earth" would be a plot point.
There are all sorts of formulas as to when plot points should occur. A good rule of thumb is: fairly often, or your audience is out getting popcorn. (That was Len's phrase for "You're boring me out of my mind.") These should be major points and not just "insert car chase here," because the plot points have to be a)important emotionally and b)organic--not just grafted onto the story. You have to keep developing the story and making things tougher and tougher.
- Work out what happens in between plot points. You know, Plot Point A is she discovers her husband is actually a woman and Plot Point B is she runs off with the husband's brother (who isn't really the brother--he's the husband-who's-actually-a-woman's lover). A few things have to happen in between those moments. I jot down ideas for scenes/happenings.
I just start writing then. I know all the major signposts, I know most of the scenes I want to be sure to write, and I'm going to think of more as I write. I keep an eye on how many pages are going by--if I'm on page 50 and nothing's happened yet, I'm in trouble. Actually, if I'm on page 15 and nothing's happened yet, I'm in trouble.
There are some writers who can evidently outline the entire script and work out how many pages each scene should get even before they start writing. I am not one of these people. In fact, I hate these people and wish they would die.
There are also writers who get lost in the minutiae and forget their story. I know one writer who keeps coming up with little bits she wants to be sure to include. When I ask, "What does that have to do with the story?" she draws a blank--because it has nothing to do with the story, which she hasn't gotten a handle on yet and has a very hard time doing so, because she keeps grazing off a cliff with these unimportant side issues.
(I just saw a post on one of my screenwriting lists from a friend talking about getting lost in nitpicky stuff. I just want to say: this last paragraph is not about you. You know that.)
That is one thing USC was very good for, as far as I'm concerned: I really learned how to focus on the story and what drives it. I'm sure there are many ways--less expensive ways--to learn that, but that's definitely what I got out of it. I can now articulate what's working and what isn't and why.
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Copyright 1999 Diane Patterson
Send comments and questions to diane@spies.com