hollywouldink


Leave a comment

Villians Are People Too

Every story needs an antagonist, and every writer needs to learn how to write them well. This is no easy task, as the point of the hero’s journey is usually to uphold your view of the world, and the antagonist – it should go without out saying – threatens that world view. Back in the day, you could just write good guy/bad guy scenarios where the lines between good and evil were clearly defined, and good always prevailed, but let’s face it: people are bored with that! No, no. What today’s audiences want, and frankly, what we as writers want too, is for movies to be living testaments to the human experience. Let’s take a lesson from the Impressionist painters and realize that black and white do not exist in nature: only shades of grey. Let us think then, if this is our pallet, what can we paint with it?

If our audiences are bored with good prevails over evil, then let’s begin with these two concepts. Good. Not that tricky. That’s what makes this dreary, drab, dull place called Earth seem tolerable. Evil. Also not that tricky. It is that which makes this glorious, euphoric, orgasmic place called Earth seem dreary, drab, and dull in the first place. Now how to take those things and turn them into unique and engaging characters?

It’s actually not that difficult. All you have to do in order to get into the mind of your antagonist is remember that there is no such thing as evil; rather that there is a dangerous propensity within the human mind for rationalizing even the most inhumane and illogical thoughts. Be it from he- said-she-said, to Nazi’s killing Jews, life is simply absurd.

Just like this is absurd. Funny only because that cat is harmless. I will point out to that the cat’s stash is just part of his nature. While environment and circumstances to play a huge role in shaping real people & fictional characters, NEVER FORGET that “born this way” is a real thing. The nervous system, taste buds, other senses, brain chemistry, genetic coding, pheromones…all that plays a huge part in making a person who they are.

So yeah, life is absurd, but there is some order amid all the chaos. Realize it. Recognize it. Write about it. The more sense you try to make out of your characters, the better, especially when it comes to your antagonists. In some respects, they should be more fleshed out that your antagonists since they come into the story on the losing side. “The losing side of what?” you might ask. Popular opinion, that’s what. That includes your audience’s opinion and your own. The problem then boils down to an issue of respect, and before you set pen to paper in the effort to describe them you must ask yourself, “Do I respect this character?” And to that effect, “Are they a force to be reckoned with?” The two are mutually exclusive: for your antagonist to be a worthy opponent, he or she must be powerful, and the concept of power – as we all know – is relative to our own weaknesses. As the documentors of these living testaments to the human experience that we call films, we need to ask ourselves these questions.

There will be times in your life of writing when the character that’s screaming their story in your ear is the type of person whose ideological beliefs differ from yours, and whose moral compass points in a direction you’ve never even heard of, or that you have, at least, tried to steer clear of. Take heart, for the question you should be asking yourself is not, “Should I write this character?” but rather, “How should I tell their story?” Villainous, devious, malcontent; these have been the cornerstones of some of cinema’s greatest protagonists since D.W. Griffith (not so much a nice guy himself) paved the way for gangster films with “The Musketeers of Pig Alley.” And it’s only natural. There is no light without the darkness after all, right?


Leave a comment

Becoming Memorable: Top 10 Things to Talk About in an Interview

Ever find yourself at a loss for words in an interview? If you’re a writer, this is an especially embarrassing occurrence as we are supposed to be great communicators. The following are a few tips on how to carry an organic conversation appropriate for the interview setting. As you read each suggestion, remember that the film business is all about connections, and making connections is all about being open and honest. The simplest way to go about presenting yourself in a way that will attract others, and entice them to connect with you is to learn the art of conversation. Just think “topics.” Start with where you grew up, where you went to school, what you studied, your hobbies, etc. etc. These are great icebreakers for a first conversation. If the conversation goes well, say with a producer or an agent, and they ask you more about yourself, do yourself a favor and tell an anecdote or two. As a writer you should have a few dozen anecdotes readily available in your mind’s back pocket. Here’s a list of the Top 10 Interview Anecdote Topics.

10. Tell ’em one thing that you have done or accomplished that most people haven’t. Have several accomplishments in mind, and pick the one you feel most appropriate to share based on context.

For example, if I were interviewing for a writing job geared towards women’s issues, I might take that opportunity to mention that I overcame anorexia and other eating disorders when I was a teenager. Furthermore, I’d give an example of how those experiences affected certain subject matter found in my writing. It may sound too personal for an interview, but trust me, it’s better to come off as flawed but interesting, than perfect but boring.

9. Tell ’em something about yourself that might surprise them (in a good way).

For example, I might segue away from eating disorders into a lighter topic by telling a joke in the guise of a little secret. “Shhh, don’t tell anyone,  but, I wear socks with sandals!” I don’t actually do that, and in all likelihood  I’d end up revealing that I’m a huge Trekkie just because I seem to always find a way to relate whatever I’m talking about to Start Trek. No lie.

8. Tell ’em the story about how you got into writing in the first place.

In my case, I would tell them about the life changing thought I had upon completion of my very first screenplay, which was, “I could do this every day for the rest of my life.” It was revolutionary. And it stuck. Luckily, I had a brilliant mentor, Fred Strype (pictured above), who guided me toward finding my voice, as well as helping me hone my art and my craft. I still hear him standing over my shoulder as I stare off into space, my mind a blank canvass. He says, “Cut the shit and do the thing!” and I jump into action.

7. Tell ’em one thing you’ll bring to the table that other cannot or will not.

You’re probably looking at this photo thinking, “what anecdote could Holly be about to tell?” It’s this: brand yourself! Okay, that’s not a story, but it’s a good image to start with. Let’s break it down. First of all, I’m a smart, ambitious, and talented woman. But I’m also really nice, a bit kooky, but most importantly, very nurturing (see the little panda baby? I like panda babies). It’s good to use descriptive words, but even better to paint a picture of how you are to work with (what you like, dislike, experience you’ve had in the past, hopes and dreams for your future, and what you consider the ideal work scenario to be). If you can give specific examples of times when you have displayed those qualities, now is the time to speak up about it.

6. Tell ’em what the most satisfying compliment you ever received was.

Now is a great time to direct the conversation back to how great you are as a person in general (like questions 1 and 2), but with a greater emphasis on your humility. How can a a compliment that someone else gave you show humility? Well, do you think Ayn Rand (whom I’m actually kind of a fan of) cared about compliments? No, and the point is that you’re showing that you value the opinions of others. What was the best compliment I ever got? It was when the most brilliant, talented and ambitious person that I know called and asked for my advice. Priceless.

5. Tell ’em one specific passion that drives you.

Chipping away at what’s between me and the Truth. ‘Nuff said.

4. Tell ’em one way in which you distinguish yourself in the marketplace.

You all know how much I love Jennifer Lawrence, and this is in part because she knows what she’s doing when it comes to positioning herself in the marketplace as a serious actress looking for longevity of career. Think of ways in which you are going to brand yourself. Remember to walk and talk the part.

3. Tell ’em about your experience – slash – credibility; what you’ve done and with whom.

If the conversation has gone on this long, you’re more than likely at the level of intimacy where you can name drop without coming off like a total twat. But still – proceed with caution, and do not try to ride on another person’s fame or glory. As always you should stick to things you are proud of and really worked hard for. This shows potential financiers that you, well, work hard, but also that you’ve been paying your dues. They like to see that in the biz. In my case, I interned 40 hours a week at Reeling: Chicago’s 30th Lesbian & Gay International Film Festival last summer. There I worked with Brenda Webb, a truly delightful woman who I would love to have the opportunity to work with again, as well as the other staff at Chicago Filmmakers. What I mainly did was curate the short film program, which was basically the best job ever. Watch movies all day, pick the best ones, color-coordinate my notes, and group like things together? Love it.  (Notice here that I stay positive throughout the conversation and NEVER EVER say anything negative about anyone else. EVER.)

2. Tell ’em how you think someone who really admired you would introduce you to a stranger at a networking event.

Remember that this is you as a writer, not as a person, but try to use descriptive words that apply to the "you" in both senses. If you're unsure of how people admire think of you, try asking said people, or pulling from letters of recommendation.

Remember that this is you as a writer, not as a person, but try to use descriptive words that apply to the “you” in both senses. If you’re unsure of how people admire think of you, try asking said people, or pulling from letters of recommendation. In the case of moi, it has been said I am “fearless,” have a “distinctive writer’s voice” and that my “ability at presenting the details of life while characterizing the broader themes of the human condition reminds one of that ability in the writing of F.S. Fitzgerald.” Nice. It had also been said, by an entirely different person, that my writing “seems at first to fluctuate between the wacky and the excruciatingly lowbrow…” – just wait, it gets better – but “…her excruciatingly lowbrow is always artfully commenting on how the ordinary can have such a powerful over us.” Ergo, I’m like sugar water that tastes like red, and a vintage ruby engagement ring coexisting interestingly together. Or something.

1. Tell ’em who you’re going to thank most of all when you win your first Oscar.

Yous guys will def get a shout out, but moms gets the biggest.

Yous guys will def get a shout out, but ain’t no’ne getten more’n Mom. (Oh what? You didn’t know I’m from Jersey? Cape May, hun.)

There’s no denying it. If you get through all these topic points and you’ve still got their interest, you’re probably a shoo-in. If I were you, I would copy these prompts and jot down a sentence or two for each one, or key words and phrases to help you come up with and remember your anecdotes, or “talking points” as we like to say in the parlance of our times.

Happy connection making!


Leave a comment

Tips for Rewriting Your Screenplay

Does this look familiar?

Congratulations! You're balls deep in the writing process!

So you’ve just finished a draft, or you’re getting near to that anyway, and you’re starting to think about rewrites. Before going back to the beginning and trying to fix every little problem over and over again ad nauseum, here are some tips to help guide you through this next phase in the writing process.

Tip #1

Finish your draft!

Be fearless.

My writing mentor, Fred Strype, used to say, “At some point you need to just cut the shit, and do the thing.” Inspiring stuff, right? I mean, nobody is going to read your script unless it is complete. And nobody wants to read what you, the writer, are dissatisfied with, so why not just allow yourself to write a shitty first draft, take some time off, then come back to it with a fresh perspective?

Tip #2

Stick it in a drawer.

Don't worry if your drawers aren't as cool as these Leman ones.

Putting your work down for a while is essential to the rewriting process, because you need time for your thoughts to marinate, and for your draft to stand a lone as a completed project. That’s the old. You’re focus now is on the new. The what will be. And if you’re anything like me, you won’t be able to stop thinking about it, even while the pages are tucked neatly away in a drawer.

Here’s how to think about it while you’re trying not to think about it: if character, structure, and theme are your foundation elements, you should have those in place. That’s awesome. Pat yourself on the back. That done, focus on laying “pipe” (expository information) next. How will you get out the information across in interesting and cinematic ways? Once you lay your pipe you can put up the walls. Those are your individual scenes. Paint and decor is imagery and dialogue.

Tip #3

Put a bow on it.

Treat your screenplay to something pretty.

Once I finish a first draft I make a few extra copies and send them (via snail mail – yes, the old fashioned way) to some of my closest and most trusted friends. These are people who value and respect my work, but still able to see the flaws in it and offer constructive criticism. I try to do this as soon as I finish because it usually takes a while for people, even those who love you, to make time in their busy lives to read your fledgling script.

Waiting and being patient with them is good practice for when you start sending your screenplays out to agents, managers, and production companies. Even if someone says they’ll read it as a favor, don’t expect that favor to happen on your time. That’s okay. Remember, these people aren’t going to fix your screenplay for you. And the only thing you should be concerned with is producing a piece of work that you are proud of and satisfied with.

Tip #4

Work it out.

That's what she said.

Writing should be an Olympic sport for all the stamina, and mental gymnastics it requires. Writers often find themselves hitting the wall somewhere in the rewriting process. One way to avoid this is to know exactly what your doing. Run the route several times in your mind before sitting down to bang it all out.

Here are questions you should have pretty concrete and concise answers to before starting a new draft. This list is borrowed from John Truby, and is the one I use to help sort out general character, structure, and thematic elements. I like it because it mixes Act Structure with Mythological Structure.

Try printing out this page and answering each question as economically as possible. The more you can crystalize your story idea down to it’s very essence, the better off you’ll be when trying to work out the specific cinematic elements that will help you weave all your thoughts and intentions together. I suggest focusing on the questions you have a more difficult time answering, but don’t let those minor road blockages stand in the way of making changes you know need to be made.

REWRITE CHECKLIST

(from John Truby)

The End: self-revelation

What does the hero learn about himself/herself at the end of the story?

What beliefs are challenged during the course of the story?

How is the hero wrong about himself/herself at the beginning?

The Ghost

What is the event in the past still haunting the hero?

The Predicament

What is the difficulty that the hero finds himself/herself in at the beginning of the story?

What are the weaknesses of the hero?

The Need

What is the psychological need of the hero?

What must the hero fulfill to have a better life?

The Inciting Event

What event from the outside forces the hero to take action?

The Desire

What particular goal does the hero have in the story?

What motivates the hero?

What are the stakes?

What values are at stake?

The Ally (-ies)

Who is helping the hero reach his/her goal?

How is the ally helping the hero overcome the opponent?

Is there a false ally working “under cover” for the opponent?

The Opponent

How is the opponent blocking the hero from reaching his/her goal?

Does the opponent want the same thing as the hero?

How does the opponent attack the greatest weakness of the hero?

What values come in conflict between the opponent and the hero?

The First Revelation

What information forces the hero to decide on a new course of action?

What adjustments of desire and motivation are involved?

The Plan

What is the set of guidelines that the hero will use to reach the goal?

How and why does the plan go wrong?

How is the plan altered during the course of the story?

The Opponent’s Plan

What plan will the opponent use to prevent the hero to reach his/her own goal?

What is the main counter-attack?

How and why does the plan go wrong?

How is the plan altered during the course of the story?

The Drive

What are the specific actions that the hero takes to defeat the opponent?

How do the actions of the hero change when the conflict intensifies?

Does the hero take immoral action to defeat the opponent?

Does the ally attack the hero on the issue of “immoral action”?

The Apparent Defeat

Is there a moment when the hero feels he/she has lost to the opponent?

In what way is that a devastating experience to the hero?

How does the second revelation prevent the hero from giving up the goal?

The Second Revelation

What information restores belief that the goal can still be reached?

What decision does the hero take because of that new information?

In what way does the hero become obsessed to reach the goal?

Does this obsession mean a continued moral decline?

How does the motivation change?

The Audience Rvelation

Does the audience learn something that the hero is unaware of?

Is there an “ally” working for the opposition?

The Third Revelation

What important information makes the hero equipped for the final battle?

What decision does the hero make because of that new information?

Why is this a “point of no return.”

“Visit to Death”

How does a feeling of morality motivate the hero to enter the final battle?

How is the pressure on the hero reaching its peak?

The Battle

What values are the conflicting characters representing and fighting about?

In what ways are the opposing characters similar?

In what ways are they different?

The Self-revelation

How does the life-shattering experience of the battle change the hero?

What does the hero learn about the world?

What does the hero learn about himself/herself?

What does the hero learn about what it is to be human?

What does the hero learn about how to behave towards others?

What does the hero learn about how to live “the rest of his/her life”?

Happy rewriting!


1 Comment

What I Didn’t Know About Novel Writing (until about an hour ago)

Normally, in screenwriting the gurus say that story begins with character or possibly structure, but what I learned today in my nifty fiction workshop is that novels begin with setting, and that location begets character not the other way around. Whodduh thunk it? Now, in the land of common sense this might seem to be obvious. You can’t have a person existing in a vacuum, and thus it would be a logical assumption to make that they have to have ground under their feet before you can plunk them down and set them off running on their journey. But somehow I missed that.

On the bright side, my background as both a screenwriter and a visual artist puts me in a good position to come up with proper settings for characters as fast as you can say…

Cracker Jack.

So, I’m working on my first novel, and surprise surprise, I’m basing it on an idea that was originally for a screenplay. The thing is, I know all the secondary locations, but not where the meat of the story will be set. Worse still is that all I can think about is this 7 ft. mixed media installation that I did a few years back during my undergrad days at Sarah Lawrence. It looked like this…

Yeah, get a load of that one.

The most interesting thing about this piece, which you can’t see from here, is that in the very far right corner, right where the tunnel meets the plaster outcropping is a faint but distinct silhouette of a man in a tuxedo offering a woman in a Victorian bustle a rose. Well, that, and that this piece came to represent what my brain must look like when I’m suffering writer’s block. As I was telling a friend earlier this evening, I’m not sure how or when it was that I began to conflate the issue of true love with my work as an artist, but there it is. Plain as day for all to see.

Okay, okay, in typical Holly fashion this may all seem very tangential, but I actually have a point to make. I think. The point being that the novel I’m writing is about Cupid, the god of Love, and a young female demi-god who is coming in with the aim to restructure Love as it have been done through the ages (very much an “Up In the Air” knock-off). So what I’m thinking is… do Cupid and the demi-god need to spend the majority of their journey in a desolate limbo place like my brain on writer’s block? Obvi, they spend some time on Olympus, and some time on Earth, but as far as each one of them going through a self-as-artist self-discovery journey, do they need to be in a place that only exists within the human soul? Because, if the story is about Love, where else could it be set without it being about love in, say, New York City, or Bangladesh? This story is not about Love in a place, it’s about Love within the human condition. So that makes sense.

But. But. Okay, so there’s this fantastical place that may or may not exist within ourselves. The next task is how do I ground that in sights and sounds and smells and tastes and PLACES that are familiar to us all? This is where I ask ya’ll for your help. If you have an inner-life what does it look like? Or does it not matter? Should I just write what my inner-life looks like and assume that people will be able to relate because anyone who would pick up a copy of my book will have a rich inner-life and can just imagine what it would be like for them?

While you think about that, here’s a beautiful video to watch. It’s by William Kentridge, and is a stop-motion video of him erasing and drawing over the same images. Words cannot describe.

Click the link below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJ-c4N2njwg

P.S. I swear by next week I will be offering more information rather than asking a bunch of unanswerable questions. In the meantime, enjoy the video.


Leave a comment

How To Turn a Dream into a Screenplay

The woods behind the house illuminated by the porch light.

Last Night: Abridged

Last night, during a house party, a complete stranger came up to me and drilled a hole in the base of my spine. First my knees buckled, then I lost all feeling in the left side of my face. Drool dribbled down my chin as my lips flapped in a pitiful attempt to ask, “What’s happening to me?” It sounded more like, “Wuh appelang oo ee?”  I proceeded to flail around, trying to get any one of the dozens of party goers to help me. They believed me to be drunk and began to murmur about cabs and bad form. I was humiliated and scared, but no one would listen to me because no one could understand me.

I began to shake people. They shook me off. I stumbled around saying something that approximated “hey” and got a lit cigarette shoved in my mouth. I coughed so hard on it that not only did I choke, but I pissed my own pants. At that point, a good and trusted friend led me away from the party and left me standing under a patch of moonlight by the woods. All the while, the pea-sized hole in my back gaped open, mocking me in its dryness, its lack of oozing blood or anything that I could point to as proof that I was hurt. The unknown person who had done the damage stood on the stoop holding up the electric drill, whizzing it to life for the benefit of saying,”Don’t you dare come back.” 

Standing alone in the darkness just beyond the reach of the porch lights, staring back at this person that I didn’t even know but hated to the core of my person, my whole body went numb. My knees threatened to give way, but I managed to hold my ground. Probably just for spite. My feet planted themselves in the freshly dead leaves, and refused to move from that spot, until, one moment after many moments very much like it, I began to move. Step by agonizing step I trudged and wobbled my way back to the party. Back to the lights. The noise. The people. The person. Back to confront my worst fear…

And then I woke up.

Yep, you guessed it. That was a dream. But I’d have been an idiot to preface it with that.  That’s Rule #1, and pretty much the only “rule” when it comes to translating one’s dreams into a dramatically told story. Repeat: do not let us know that the story you’re telling us is a dream either at all, or until the proper moment, which absolutely is not at the beginning. I’ve seen even seasoned writer’s make this mistake, and there’s just no excuse for it. Did you know, for instance, that Frank Darabont had originally written a dream sequence into the 3rd Act of The Shawshank Redemption that was never shot? Old Frank thought it was perhaps his best bit of writing in the entire script (which is saying something, since the script is phenomenally good), but the producers and execs took one look at it and said, “Cut it.” Or something along those lines. As much as I admire Darabont’s writing, I have to agree with the big wigs. The reason that and most other dream sequences don’t work is simply this: when we know it’s a dream, the stakes are so low as to rob us of drama, tension, and conflict. Unless, of course, we’re talking about Nightmare on Elm Street where the consequence of dreaming is death, or Inception where one is invading dreams, and again there is the possibility of fatal injury.

Okay now that you have that rule down let’s look at some helpful hints.

Helpful Hint #1

Pick your poison.

If you’re going to pull more than a moment from your dream, and are in fact trying to create a work of any length, there are a few writing styles that dreams really adapt to well: Expressionism, Surrealism, Magic Realism, and Horror. I would suggest that you take a look at the most inspiring moment from your dream, figure out which style it naturally lends itself to, and after you’ve chosen one of these styles, try to work within that particular “box.”

Having trouble deciding? Here’s a rough breakdown of these styles that might help. Horror, for instance lends itself nicely to nightmares when we, the audience, either don’t realize it’s a dream or, like, in Nightmare on Elm Street there are real stakes to the characters falling asleep. Magic Realism tends to lend itself to dream-like stories full of fantasy and the sort of fantastical imagery that sparks the imagination and doesn’t need to play by the logical rules of the universe. (However, if you’re going to write in that style you do want to force your story into some sort of logical box lest you stray into the territory of Surrealism.) Expressionism is handy because you can get away with a lot of things like writing stereotypical characters (and in a dream, people tend to be like that), plus you have the whole “am I insane or is just this world?” thing going for you. Surrealism is an obvious choice considering that’s what it was made for and the farther you get from logic, the better.  On the subject of logic…

Helpful Hint #2

Put your poison in a glass.

The glass is structure. Like any screenplay, your dream-story must have structure (see previous posts for structure breakdowns). No matter which of these styles you chose to write in, you must establish a sense of order or “logic”(a.k.a the rules of the world), and the writing conventions you’re using in the 1st Act. This is key, otherwise people will feel like you’re cheating, using cheap tricks to get your protagonist in or out of trouble, or that you have tone issues. That’s actually true of any cinematic story, so please do file it away.

Helpful Hint #3

Don't drink your poison.

Dreams, as much as they can be inspiring are death to internalize. Do not, under any circumstances try to analyze your dream. Don’t look up the meaning of your dream on the interwebs, don’t pretend you or your best friend is Freud, and definitely do not try to write your dream exactly as it happened (unless you dream in perfect story form, which I highly doubt, because stories are organized and structured, whereas dreams are free flowing). Instead, think of your dream as a jumping off point. Pick the moments that stand out in your mind, and had the most resonance with your feelings, and build a story around them. Not on them, but around them. If you build the foundation of your story on a moment from a dream, the problem is that people likely won’t get it. Usually there’s a lot of backstory and personal baggage that come along with dreams and help the dreamer get their bearings. Those are lost on outsiders. Remember too that just like any other screenplay, you have to establish and maintain conflict, tension, and dramatic visuals. But the main thing to take away from this hint is that YOU, the writer assigns meaning to the story; the dream does not.

Helpful Hint #4

Stir in the antidote.

The antidote is the same for writing a dream-story as it is for writing any other story. First, figure out who your protagonist is, then what they want (their goal), and their need (the thing they need to learn). This will help keep you track, and make your screenplay read like it should. Without a clear protagonist set on a journey, all the cool visuals you’re working with will corrode all your good intentions down to nothing. Secondly, like in any other screenplay you need a strong inciting incident to get the ball rolling. Thirdly, remember that a story, unlike a dream, has to have a beginning, middle, and and end.

Helpful Hint #5

Give your poison to a friend and tell them it's Kool-Aid.

This last bit goes back to Rule #1. Ask a friend to read your screenplay, but don’t tell them it was based on a dream. If they come back to you and say, “Wow, you have a really active imagination,” then you know you’re on the right track. The last thing you want to do is give credit to your subconscious, because, remember, the dream is just the jumping off point. It’s your diligence, active thinking and plotting that will turn that inspiration into a full fledged screenplay.

And with those 5 simple hints, you’re off and running.

Happy writing!

Holly