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Happy St Patrick's Day from the Hoff! My brother sent me this today, and I'm sure you would agree, it is too fine not to share. For more Hoff beauties, check out www.hoffgallery.com.
On a slightly less surreal note, but continuing the Irish theme, here are a few Irish films I recommend. I'm too tired and a little bit too hungover to write much about these today. So you'll just have to trust me!
In no particular order:
1) I Went Down, 1997. Scr: Conor McPherson. Dir: Paddy Breathnach
Two hapless mismatched criminals and a very talkative hostage.
2)Disco Pigs, 2001. Scr: Enda Walsh. Dir: Kirsten Sheridan
Born on the same day in the same hospital, minutes apart, Pig and Runt's inseperable bond begins to crack days before their 17th birthday.
3)Intermission, 2003. Scr: Mark O'Rowe. Dir: John Crowley
A misguided break-up triggers a series of events between a disparate group of Dubliners.
4) Adam and Paul, 2004. Scr: Mark O'Halloran. Dir: Lenny Abrahamson
Laurel and Hardy on smack.
5) Angel, 1982. Scr/Dir: Neil Jordan
A musician witnesses the murder of a mute girl.
And if that's not enough Irishness, Barbican are celebrating the Beckett Centenary festival with Beckett on Film: The Plays.
Most professional writers start off squeezing in writing time around full-time jobs, and take the plunge to full or part-time writing once they get a break. Some people go the whole hog and work full-time right away, others work part-time initially and then gradually, as the work comes in, go full-time. There are numerous different motivating factors in making the decision to depend on income from writing, wholly or partly, but the common factor is that they are all risky. You might give it all up on the basis of that big-break, but you might never get the next break.
When I left university, I spent about a year constantly moving around and doing various temp jobs with small periods of unemployment in between. Writing was impossible in those conditions, because the circumstances were so unsettling and for a lot of the time I was literally living out of boxes or suitcases, with my temperamental but beloved laptop in storage or packed away beyond reach. Finally settled in one place, I took on a full-time job out of necessity - rent and bills needed paying, and writing wasn't going to do that. The idea was that I would do the job for a year, pay off the crippling debts getting an education in the UK incurs, enjoy the financial stability that a full-time job would give me and put aside time to write that I couldn't do before. The job had nothing to do with scriptwriting but it was an incredibly creative environment with interesting people who were knowledgeable about all things cultural, and I loved it. The problem was, the longer I was there the more responsibility I took on and as staff left, I gradually become the person that other people assumed knew all the answers, even if I didn't. Exciting though it was, it was also an very badly managed organisation with low morale among staff. What seemed on paper a fairly routine job soon became demanding and emotionally draining. My writing was sporadic and as much as I enjoyed the job, I wasn't happy wasting my expensive education and, more importantly, putting aside my creative aspirations. I thought about leaving many times until, eventually, the stress of the job combined with a sustained and overwhelming personal turmoil was the trigger I needed. I spontaneously handed in my notice without having any other job to go to, something that goes against just about every fibre of my being. I'm a cautious one!
Thankfully, I had been 'moonlighting' as a script reader for a while and having a direct, paid involvement in scriptwriting again gave me direction. I found a new part-time job and took on more script reading work which I did, and still do, from home. The couple of days I have working from home cuts out commuting time which has become writing time. There's financial pressure of course, as although I made a point of finding a part-time job that paid more, pro-rata than my previous full time job, script reading doesn't pay that much and I have to read a lot to make ends meet. Still, the time that working from home has freed up has been worth it in terms of my overall wellbeing, because I'm just happier when I'm writing, however little.
So, leaving a 'proper' job in favor of writing or script reading is a huge risk. Even though my decision was impulsive, it was something I had been quietly considering, and, true to my cautious ways, had set myself certain targets I needed to achieve before doing so. In the end I knew that for me setting these targets was just another way of putting off something I really wanted to do, because it was scary, so I'm glad certain circumstances collided to give me the kick up the arse I needed to move on. I haven't looked back and even though it is difficult always being broke, I wouldn't change a thing. I've learned some valuable lessons through trial and error and these are my tips to anyone about to, or thinking about taking the plunge to freelance work:
1) Consult your spouse/significant other. Their support is invaluable and if your income or lack thereof affects their life it will put a huge strain on the relationship.
2) If you want to work freelance full-time and have the means to, do it. Only take on part-time work if you need it to make ends meet. 2 or 3 days a week in a job you are not passionate about, when you have another job you are intensely passionate about, will soon become a horrible endurance test, and 2 days can feel like 5 if you want to be somewhere else doing something else. If you lack commitment to your part-time job, you may find yourself day-dreaming a lot about your freelance projects, and using the internet to look up things relevant to your freelance job when you should be working. In no way, whatsoever, not even a tiny wee bit does this apply to me and my part-time job. Absolutely not.
3) Have a good long think about what motivates you, when you work best, what factors you need in place to be able to work. If you need a quiet space where you are left undisturbed for hours, a conversation with the aforementioned spouse/significant other is needed, especially if there are other issues such as childcare to consider. If you work best in the afternoon, and need a part-time job, think about doing the 'proper' job in the mornings. Or use the mornings for researching or planning out work for the afternoon, whatever. Just find a routine that works for you and stick to it.
4) It's an obvious one, but contact the tax man. He gets cross if you are self-employed for more than two months (I think its 2 months, maybe less) and don't tell him. He doesn't like to be left in the dark and he punishes you by charging you money you most certainly won't have, just for ignoring him. The tax man also likes paperwork. Make sure you give him all the paperwork he demands, when he demands it. If not, again, you will be punished.
Those are my pearls of wisdom. And now, I have a rather inviting looking bottle of wine in the fridge, the PC to myself for the rest of the evening and at least two hours before I'm overcome with fatigue so I'm going to put it to good use by doing some writing.
Sent off my submission for Open Eye productions yesterday. Although I was skeptical about reducing my story to just 40 words, I enjoyed the challenge and was quite happy with the finished mini-synopsis and character description. As someone pointed out over at Writewords, it was a useful exercise for any writer to undertake, and it really helps to boil down an idea to its very essence. As with any submission, I'm optimistic about its chances but not exactly holding my breath waiting for a positive response either. I don't submit work often because I do write slowly and so I consider it an achievement just to complete something and send it out there.
Also over at Writewords, there is an interesting thread about rejection slips called the 2006 Rejection Pledge (it's in the Lounge forum though, so you have to be a member to view it). The idea is to turn rejection slips into a positive by setting a target for the year. I haven't yet 'taken the pledge' but I do love this idea. It's true that you can't get published/produced/commissioned if you don't submit work, and this is a good way of celebrating the effort and courage it takes to send your work out there, without getting too upset if you get a rejection. Every rejection is a learning curve, particularly if you get some constructive feedback with it. At the moment, I'm anticipating my first rejection of the year - at this stage I know I haven't got through, but I'm keen to get any feedback and I'll be interested to find if it tallies up with what I was uneasy about myself. There won't be too much time to dwell on it though, with Coming Up and the Kaos Short Film Script Competition around the corner, I have plenty to crack on with.
And on the subject of waiting for that big break, Writer's Room have an excellent new 'Script to Screen' with Paul Farrell, discussing the progression from a spec script to a commissioned episode of Silent Witness.
As I mentioned in a previous post below, I attended a writing for the screen masterclass at the London Book Fair last week with my friend Emma J, who stuck around for another masterclass in the afternoon, Writing for Children. Emma J has very kindly written a report on that event, so here it is:
"I've attended numerous author talks over the years and come away from most of them feeling that I have little in common with either the writer or their writing process. The only exception (until last Saturday) was hearing Philip Pullman once talk about how he always starts his books by getting an idea about a landscape first. I really identified with this (although, sadly for me that’s about the only thing we have in common!)
However, my general good opinion of author talks was fully restored at last Saturday's London Book Fair Masterclass on Writing for Children. The four authors (Geraldine McCaughrean, Philip Ardagh, Meg Rosoff and Siobhan Dowd) were inspirational in their approach to their writing, and their advice and anecdotes were informative and very helpful.
Geraldine McCaughrean talked about how not to let research slow down the narrative arc of your story. The temptation is to show off your in-depth knowledge of the subject matter, but this then detracts from the progress of the tale. Therefore, research, whilst important to stories set in other lands or periods in history, should never overwhelm the central story. GM admitted that she has never been to the Arctic or to China but still set her books in these locations, letting her imagination, and the willingness of the reader to be entertained, do the rest.
Philip Ardagh concurred, saying that by overwhelming your reader with your research all you do is make the reader think you are showing off. Whereas, one small, well placed piece of research can often impress the reader far more. He also talked about delivery of your material. He mentioned one of his books, where a boy called Fergal falls from a window on page one of the book, and dies instantly. The book then goes back through the Fergal's life, having attracted our attention to this character, and tells the story of how he came to fall. A tragic story is told in away that gets the child reader's attention. The way Fergal died is no longer important – he matters to the reader, he has a story and they want to know more about him.
The second part of the afternoon included talks from Meg Rosoff and Siobhan Dowd. Both concentrated on the actual act of writing. In Meg's case it was her resistance to writing that led to her taking up alternative careers in PR, advertising, and very nearly running her own cake making service. Then her sister became ill with cancer and it occurred to her that we all only have so much time in which to do the things we feel compelled to do. So, she started asking everyone she knew how on earth she could go about writing a book. The result was How We Live Today, an instant bestseller.
Siobhan Dowd spent 12 years patiently waiting for her big break. Three years ago she sat in the audience at the LBF Masterclass wondering if she would ever get her break. Now a writer for Random House, she was up on the stage. She talked about how to make your writing lean, mean and clean – all traits she had learnt through patiently honing her craft in her 12 year wait to be published. According to her, if you get the five C's right (Consistency (get the details right and give your writing credibility), Chapters (structure of your story), Cast (characters that interest people and that progress or change as the story progresses), Cutting (being ruthless about rewriting), and Cliché (finding new ways to say things), you won't go far wrong.
And, finally, all four answered my question about whether or not you have to be around children to be a good children's writer with the answer I wanted to hear. No, you don't, it doesn't matter, the story is key. And, as Meg Rosoff put it, "Don't trust children, they have very bad taste…." Philip Ardagh agreed. He once asked readers of a book he was particularly proud of to write to him and tell him which was their favourite character. They ignored all of his well-rounded, funny characters in the book that he had spent ages writing witty dialogue for, and instead overwhelmingly voted for a stuffed stoat that never said a word. "
Thanks Emma!
I want to read the book with the stuffed stoat ....
IWC Media have just announced details of the 6th Coming Up initiative for new writers. I've been zealously checking IWC's website for this information since the end of last year - I went to a Script Factory SCENE event on which Eileen Quinn of IWC was a panel member and she mentioned Coming Up (I posted a report for this onWritewords as there was some useful information for writers. You can read it here but you'll need to be a Writewords member). It's an excellent opportunity for new writers without a primetime television credit, and previous winners have gone on to have work commissioned for the BBC while one winner, Andrea Arnold, won an academy award for her short film Wasp. At the time I remember thinking it was a great thing that to enter, you "only" had to write a 1 to 2 page synopsis in the first instance. I set to work on my synopsis and after several attempts, came to a grinding halt. I had forgotten the trouble I have with synopses.
Writing a synopsis is not made any easier by the lack of a clear definition of what a synopsis is. Different companies and organisations obviously have vastly different ideas about how they define a synopsis. As I mentioned in a previous post, I've also been working on a 40-word synopsis for the Open Eye submissions. To my mind, a synopsis should give an overview of the story to its conclusion. In script reading terms, a synopsis is usually (though not exclusively, again different companies have different guidelines) kept to under 500 words and covers the main plot, main characters and the subplot. 40-words is more akin to my definition of a logline - a summary of the story in one or two sentences. Perhaps the reason there is such fervent debate among writers about the definition of these industry terms is because they are getting different explanations from different organisations - over on the writewords site for example, in the synopsis and outline group there seems to be a firmly rooted belief that a synopsis should not tell too much of the story. Perhaps it's the script reader in me, but I always want to know how the story begins, how it develops and how it is resolved.
Thankfully, the guidelines for Coming Up are fairly clear about what they want from the synopsis. I've made quite a bit of progress with mine but now feel I'm at the stage where I need to dive in and write a draft of the script and resolve any problems that way. Then I'll write my synopsis again and when I do, I will certainly be consulting these two excellent articles about synopses on Writer's Dock. In the first article, Pam McCutcheon lists the top ten synopsis mistakes, and she nails my two personal weaknesses at numbers 4 and 5 respectively: Too much detail, and not enough emotion. The former isn't so much a problem because I'll always go back and cut things down once I've got a draft of something, and I'm a fairly ruthless self-editor. The latter is a problem, however, as I tend to write emotional, character driven stories. While I don't feel I have any difficulty conveying the emotion in the script, getting that emotion into the synopsis enough to hook the reader is something I have doubts about. Still, I will persevere!
If anyone out there reading this is planning on submitting something for either Open Eye or Coming Up, remember the deadlines: Open Eye is just around the corner on 13th March (you can email submissions, which saves the postage time) and Coming Up is 18th April. Good luck!
It seems everything has become organic these days, even scriptwriting. At the London Book Fair Writing for the Screen Masterclass I attended yesterday, I counted at least 3 uses of the word ‘organic’ in relation to scriptwriting. Tim Firth said his approach to writing comedy was ‘organic’ in that he let the humour emerge from the characters rather than from one-liners he wanted to add to the script. Deborah Moggach spoke of the ‘organic’ feel to her recent adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. And Amy Jenkins, when asked if she first writes the dialogue and then adds further details, or if everything is written in parallel, agreed that it was the latter, and that this was an ‘organic ‘ process.
I’ve been to similar events as this before and though they are always incredibly useful, the limitation of the set-up is that there is never enough time to fully discuss specific issues that crop up. I’ve encountered the word organic in connection to scriptwriting a few times recently, though I can’t say that I can remember the context at this moment in time. Yesterday, after the third instance of the word ‘organic’ (there may have been more, but I stopped counting) I started to wonder exactly what they meant – it all seemed a bit vague. When I got home I decided to look up the word organic in the dictionary to help put it in context and this is what I found:
adjective 1 relating to or derived from living matter. 2 not involving or produced with chemical fertilizers or other artificial chemicals. 3 Chemistry relating to or denoting compounds containing carbon and chiefly or ultimately of biological origin. 4 relating to or affecting a bodily organ or organs. 5 (of the elements of a whole) harmoniously related. 6 characterized by natural development.
The latter two definitions proved useful. I liked Tim Firth’s assertion that he finds the comedy from the characters. As I mentioned in my first post, I get to read quite a lot of sitcoms and more often than not the characters are secondary to the jokes or slapstick situations and it just doesn’t work. When I think of my favourite sitcoms, I think of the characters and the way they relate to each other. I think Father Ted’s dreams of fame continually thwarted by Dougal, Jack or Mrs Doyle and Blackadder’s scheming destroyed by Baldrick. It’s the blueprint for any story – somebody wants something, someone or something stands in their way. In that sense, Amy Jenkins’ overall approach to writing (and it has to be said, most screenwriter’s approach to writing – why make extra work for yourself by going back and adding details, except if you are actually re-writing?) and Tim Firth’s description of creating the comedy in a story meet definition number 5 and definition number 6. If a story is about someone who wants something, then everything stems from that character which could be said to be ‘a natural development’. As such, the comedic value of a story and the scene descriptions should also be ‘harmoniously related’ elements of the whole story.
This all may seem fairly obvious but I had never really thought of describing scriptwriting as an organic process before. Certainly I agree that all aspects of the script, from the characters to the dialogue, the arena and the pacing should fit together with no one aspect of the craft of writing overtaking another. But perhaps because writing a script can so often be such a laborious, painful process I didn’t associate it with being either harmonious or natural.
On that note, I’m off to start chopping carrots for dinner (organic carrots, of course!).
I'm finishing up for the day and have had the kind of typical 'writing' day of not achieving very much in terms of words and pages, but lots in terms of progressing ideas. I've been working on a short script and have a grand total of, wait for it.... 3 pages. Something was niggling at me the whole time I was writing those 3 pages though, and I stopped for a bit, started working on something else and realised what it was I needed to do on the short script. The 'something else' was the excruciatingly difficult task of boiling down a 100 page screenplay into a 40 word synopsis and a 40-word character description for the upcoming Open Eye productions Open Doorsubmissions. I've got the 40 words for each, but not convinced what I've written gives any useful sense of the story. The deadline is 13th March though, so there's still some time to rework it a bit. There has also been a fair amount of the 'other stuff' that tends to distract me which today has largely been tinkering about with links on this site and a fair amount of general internet-ing.
Tomorrow I'm off to the London Book Fair Writing for the Screen Masterclass. There are presentations fromDeborah Moggach, Christopher Hampton, Tim Firth and Amy Jenkins. I've attended separate events with Deborah Moggach and Christopher Hampton before and their insight is worth the £25 cost alone, but I'm particularly looking forward to hearing what Amy Jenkins (who wrote This Life) has to say. Will try to post something about it over the weekend - if anyone happens to be reading this, 3 posts in one day should not be taken as any sort of precedent!
