Some days stuff pops out of the matrix that says hello to a stream of thought you're already swimming in, and generally such a synchronicity, random though it may be, suggests paying attention. Though not too much attention, of course, otherwise you may end up pushing a shopping cart down Venice Boulevard in your pajamas explaining to all your invisible friends why pundits from the Planet Zygon are sending you messages encoded in the waves of Donald Trump's combover.
At brunch I met a fellow from London who's left a lucrative job in advertising to pursue a screenwriting career here in L.A. (brave lad -- tried to talk him out of it, but no go), and he asked a question that had a familiar ring: "Should I try to write something personal, do you think, or should I go after a commercial, thing-that's-gonna-sell kind of screenplay?"
Familiar because just last night this comment came up on my last post: For writers like myself that attempt romantic comedies, is it better to be more conventional when trying to break in, or can we stray from the blueprint a bit ala "Spotless Mind?" This from Scriptweaver (whose own neat screenwriting blog posts some of the best movie cheesecake on the web -- but I digress). Anyway, given the intersection of these 2 questions within the same 24 hours, let me respond with a question.
When a reader (professional reader, producer, actor, director, civilian, et al) reads the first page of a screenplay, what is the last thing this reader wants to see?
Something they've read before.
As a reader and a writer, nothing deadens my soul, puts my hope and imagination to sleep faster, than the sense that I'm being told One of Those Stories in the Same Old Way. Now it's true that what the studio is looking for is a project that's "commercial," which by common wisdom is a story deemed to be a familiar, acessible, sellable. But in truth, the studio ideal is a story that's the same, only different.
So what makes the difference?
First, to define "the same," let me try to readjust a subtle misconception about conventionality. Here's the thing about a conventional script that's meant to be commerical (i.e. a workman-like version of what's already been done and what's done all the time to fill programmer slots on a studio slate). There's a lot of established pros doing exactly that, and chances are, they're already better at it than you are.
Yes: if you're an aspiring screenwriter, you really ought to familiarize yourself with traditional form and structure and the requisite craft stuff that goes with it, so that you're literally and figuratively on the same page as the professionals working in the industry. Every storyteller ought to understand the basic time-honored fundamentals of how to tell a story, and it behooves you to know how it's done in this medium.
But while writing a formulaic, by-the-books script might give you a grip on what works and what doesn't, that doesn't have to be the spec script you go out with. In fact, I'd highly recommend it, not. The industry doesn't need it.
What makes a script stand out from the crowd is the difference.
What makes the difference?
You.
You and only you can write the story that only you know how to write, and this is where "personal" becomes key, in terms of breaking into the biz.
And what's the difference between personal and who cares? The nightmare version of "a personal project" is that script written by a struggling widget salesman from Ohio that's all about a struggling widget salesman from Ohio and widgets, widgets, widgets. It's the equivalent of the guy with the shopping cart on Venice Boulevard getting messages from the Planet Zygon -- I call them OPI specs -- they come from someone's Own Private Idaho.
This is where craft comes in. I'll wager that someone who understands screenwriting craft and how to keep an audience involved could make even a widget story interesting -- the problem with OPI scripts is that their writers, who often aren't really writers, aren't really interested in creating a good movie. They've just got a lot to get off their chest about widgets. No, you -- the pre-pro screenwriter -- want to tell a good story that people will respond to, and you've got the chops to tell it well.
And how do you know that your personal story, told well, has a shot at getting a response from the industry? How's this: say you're with some people at a restaurant. Guy on your left wants to tell you a story about how he met his wife. Woman on your right, when asked about her last relationship, blushes a bit and says there's nothing to say. When pressed, she says it's a story, alright, but it's not the kind of story she really can repeat. Which story do you want to hear?
I want the unrepeatable.
What the audience wants is the secrets -- the inside dope, the hidden scars, the don't-know-whether-to-laugh-or-cry truths about what it feels like to be human. We want to know the thing about you that might even be more outrageous than what we know about ourselves -- in essence, we want to recognize all the possibilities that are there, in all of us.
So instead of writing what you think is the thing that sells, try taking the risk of really owning what's different -- what's unique -- about your world. Show us the difference. Surprise us with your weirdness.
Personal means repeating what's supposedly unrepeatable. And of course the more you're really yourself on the page when you write, the more honest you are about your point of view... the more universal your story gets.
Ultimately we're all walking mysteries, unknown to ourselves and each other, eternally unable to be one another. What a great movie does is give us the sensation of piercing that veil. An Unrepeatable story acknowledges how shockingly familiar our secrets and feelings are. Your personal story, if it's a true and honest down and dirty one, is everybody's tale.
The mystery of what makes a person strive and thrive is one of the most primal fascinations in storytelling. I'll wager that the movies you love are the ones which remind you of both what you know and what can't be comprehended, about being in these bodies.
Seems to me those are the movies you'd want to write. They're surely the ones we really want to see.
(top photo from jen at Law of Sympathy)
Love the cards, Billy. Cool style. I like that the images in most of you posts.
Couldn't agree more with you on most of what you said: writer's SHOULD try to give their audience a unique, memomrible expercience in whatever genre they write in.
I've heard the questions you've raised before, Billy, and it begs the question, "how many screenwring hacks are out there?"
Personally I have tremendous admiration and empathy for ANYONE who tries to write, because it is hard work. You poor all you've got into it, refine like crazy till it shines, then hope someone takes a liking to it.
Writing is hard work. I know the srcipts I've written I went, over and over again and again unill they became toxic to me. Doesn't mean I did it right or caim greatness, BUT I did do my best, and hang my head because of that. The more I'm in this writing thing, the more I see its a consuming artform.
- E.C. Henry from Bonney Lake, WA
Posted by: E.C.Henry | March 27, 2006 at 05:57 AM
Nice post, Billy.
You wrote: "the problem with OPI scripts is that their writers, who often aren't really writers, aren't really interested in creating a good movie. They've just got a lot to get off their chest about widgets."
This seems so true about people in all genres of writing today. They seem like people who are more interested in their personal grievances than in the craft.
I'd suggest your man in Ohio start a widget blog rather than turn his struggles into a screenplay.
Posted by: Dean | March 27, 2006 at 06:33 AM
If I've filtered your coded comments through Trump's combover correctly, I think what you're saying is there is still hope for my script for The Kama Sutra Murders about the forbidden love between a serial killer and the FBI agent tracking him.
I'm having a little trouble getting past the "boy loses girl" part because he kills her but I'm digging deep into the RomCom black bag and I'm sure I'll come up with something - maybe a wacky best friend or an eccentric father - before I get my big break dressing up as a clown for Ari Gold's kid's b'day party next week.
Wish me luck, Elders of Zygon.
Posted by: JJ | March 27, 2006 at 11:47 AM
Right on, E.C.
So Dean: how do we get these OPI screenwriter to turn their scripts into blogs? Meanwhile, I think "have you thought about blogging?" may become the 21st century feedback comment that's the new equivalent of "don't quit your day job"...
Wait, wait, JJ: You GOT an access pass to Ari Jr's PARTY?!!!
Posted by: mernitman | March 27, 2006 at 12:44 PM
Interesting post. I was talking to a friend who'd read one of my scripts the other day and she made a comment that was along the lines of "I didn't know you were such a romantic." I think she was surprised to see that side of me in what I wrote because I rarely display a tender side in my real life (outside of romantic relationships). I wasn't surprised that she saw it there and not in my real life, because I believe that writing, all writing, reveals bits of who you really are. Brilliant or prosaic, I don't believe you can hide who you are and how you really think in your writing. The question is; is it REALLY interesting? Cause if you can make it interesting, then yeah, I wanna know about those widgets but if you can't, then I really don't care how you stopped traffic on the Friday before the fourth of July...during rush hour. (A true story which I will one day post on my blog).
Posted by: writergurl | March 27, 2006 at 02:21 PM
Love the cards. Love the post. Just one question: where did you have brunch?
Thanks for plugging my book and the resulting spike in hits on my site. Guess I owe you twice now. Your "Clouds In My Coffee" posts inspired me to approach the writing portion with a slightly different slant. Let me know when you're free for lunch. My treat.
Posted by: chesher cat | March 27, 2006 at 05:24 PM
Writergurl: From past posts I've noticed you've got killer wit, interested to see how you merge that with romance. So hurry up break in -- I wanna see your work on film!
Posted by: E.C.Henry | March 27, 2006 at 07:35 PM
Thanks for the answer and the plug, Billy!
I guess deep down we really know what we need to do. It's just hard to watch drivel like "Failure to Launch" and know I have material far superior than that (trust me, that's not a cocky statement when referring to that movie). I mean - isn't that why many of us started this crazy attempt in the first place? To write better than what's up there?
And I guess that's where the "difference" comes into play...
Posted by: ScriptWeaver | March 27, 2006 at 09:24 PM
ECH: Thanks for the compliment! Just don't hold your breath, waiting for my rom/com... I'm still trying to get the first draft written. It's harder than you think, and THEN, I had to go read someone's book, (*cough*Billy*cough*) which made me back my azz up and look at a buncha movies while trying to disect them and man, did you catch all that shit in "When Harry meet Sally" the first time around? cause I gotta tell ya...me? I just laughed. ESPECIALLY at "I'll have what she's having."
Posted by: Writergurl | March 27, 2006 at 09:41 PM
The worst are when writers try to write something commercial in a genre they don't actually like. So not only do they rarely bring something personal or different to it, they just wind up regugitating the same old cliches -- under the impression that the people who like the genre must like them.
Posted by: Scott the Reader | March 28, 2006 at 02:05 AM
WriterGurl: not surprised that you stopped traffic, but bring on the details!
Chesher Cat: I had brunch at Back on the Beach, and I'll be happy to meet you there, with my attorneys, to discuss the "Clouds" issue...
Scriptweaver: Writing better is the best revenge -- for those hours (wasted in bad movie-viewing) having been stolen from your life.
Scott: So true. And unfortunately, so often...
Posted by: mernitman | March 28, 2006 at 08:44 AM
Writergurl: Glad you're getting into the genre. No, I didn't catch all the stuff in "When Harry Meet Sally" the first I watched it. The first time I watched, I didn't like it. Do like it now, but it took a second look after Billy's book and some others I've listen to over years sung its praises -- and rightfully so, it is a good piece of art.
Hope you have fun with your first draft. And hope it does well for you when it starts making the rounds.
- E.C. Henry from Bonney Lake, WA
Posted by: E.C.Henry | March 28, 2006 at 05:39 PM
Billy, I've gotten some hearts pounding with my next to last post on my blog. (It details the trevails I encountered trying to meet the deadline for the Writer's Arc competition last winter.) People have claimed to have "racing hearts" over that post, I think the "stopped traffic" post will have to wait for things to simma down. ;)
Posted by: Writergurl | March 28, 2006 at 08:49 PM
Hello ! This is very www.google.com.bb497 good site !!
Posted by: Billy | April 03, 2006 at 02:26 PM
The Austin Film Festival blog has linked to this post -- in case you didn't know.
http://austinfilmfestival.blogspot.com/2006/03/billy-mernit-on-conventionality-and.html
Posted by: MaryAn | April 18, 2006 at 06:30 AM