Nick BANGS the keyboards, tries to make sense of what appears on the screen.
NICK
Sweet! Act One is done!
He raises his fist in solidarity for all other screenwriters sitting alone in a room.
INT. WORK ROOM -- DAYS LATER
Nick TAPS the keys with a dancer's grace, smiles.
NICK
Act Two, I'm through with you!
His cheeks flush red as he realizes that he's a huge dork.
INT. WORK ROOM -- WEEKS LATER
Nick SLAPS his palm to his forehead.
NICK
Act Three, why are you being such a fantastic pain?
He stares into
THE BLANK NOTHINGNESS
and his soul DISSOLVES.
You see, since my Secret Screenplay Idea (t'ain't new no mo') is a apocalyptic tale, I was zooming along ninety-to-nothin' on the open freeway when I slammed into an abandoned car on the clogged bottle neck of Act Three. The only chance I had of finding the other side was negotiating little gaps in the wreckage.
It turned out that Act Four was just as treacherous, if not more so. The problem getting through the borderland was the fact that I'd spent so much time laughing about how easy it was to get through the first two acts that I found myself lacking in the solutions and weapons departments when the baddies attacked me in the middle of Act Four.
I made it through the wilderness. Somehow I made it through. Yet I can't help but feel that I haven't found a new utopia or even a safe haven. I feel more like I've found a dilapidated house with a basement full of flesh starved zombies.
Guess we'll see when I get to the second draft (after tackling draft numero dos of "The Next Big Lance", of course).
A lot of people tend to think that I think I know everything. While I admit, my opinions can sometimes be delivered with a bit of arrogance and a touch of snark, I don't for one second think I know everything...or really anything for that matter.
This is why I don't post about how to write. Cause I really don't know how to write. I'm just banging keys on a keyboard, trying to make sense of what appears on screen. There's quite a few nameless bloggers who are also keyboard bangers, who think they know everything. I just want them to know I hate them, and I'm tired of their blogs. You people are idiots and do not deserve my readership.
This morning, I read one blog post that said it was gonna teach me about something that it never mentioned again and another that was trying to point out the differences between two movies and ended up just talking about the similarities. These people are trying to teach me how to write. I don't try to teach them how to be coherent and make sense. So what gives them the right to teach me how to write?
I shall repeat: You people are idiots and do not deserve my readership.
I'm tired of people who don't know squat pretending that they know squat. I am hereby taking a stand and telling you that I don't know squat, and until I know squat I won't pretend that I do.
Someone once told me that when you finish a draft, it's a good idea to set it aside for a month or so and move on to something else.
With "The Next Big Lance", I was planning on only giving it two weeks and forgetting about the something else.
But then, last week, I opened up a Word doc and started outlining the plot for my New Secret Screenplay Idea (which I feel is still too juicy -- or evil -- to even mention by name). Then on Wednesday at work, I opened up Notebook (don't have Final Draft there, and Notebook windows are easier to hide on my screen) and started writing.
Yesterday, I finished the first act.
This one is flowing out of me. I've only had a couple of other writing experiences like it:
When writing the script for "Sometimes They Come Loose". I feel it is my best short film, and I've had quite a few people tell me the same.
When writing "Baby Got Bacchus". A short script that has yet to see production or even a second draft, but people who've read it have given me a lot of good comments.
And when writing "A Friend in the Business". A feature length script that will never see production or a second draft. I wrote it in 2003 or 2004 over a single weekend. I was telling a friend about it and he said, "Sounds kinda like that Julia Roberts movie, Notting Hill." I rented the flick and sure enough, I'd written Notting Hill about five years too late.
I mention these instances to prove a point. Writing just goes better when it flows.
All three of those examples have earned positive feedback (even "A Friend in the Business" sounded like a Hollywood movie). And that makes me happy for the future of this one, because I really love the idea, the characters, the theme, etc. It also makes me happy because I get the feeling this could be the script that gets people to notice me.
So, if anyone was waiting to read the second draft of "The Next Big Lance", you'll have to wait a little longer. Sorry, but destiny calls.
Kelly and I took in the new Star Trek flick on Thursday. I really enjoyed it, and I left with the impression that there will be a day, very soon, when J.J. Abrams becomes one of those rare directors, like Spielberg, who achieves house-hold name status.
But aside from that, there are a couple of scenes in the film that, from a writing standpoint, left an impression on me.
SPOILERS BEYOND
Both scenes involve the Star Trek staple of beaming people from one place to another. And both are fairly simple set ups for bigger, more important scenes. In lesser hands these scenes would be would be unremarkable.
In the first scene, Kirk and Scotty are being beamed aboard the Enterprise. Since their mission is covert (they're there to confront Spock, who is acting captain), they are being beamed into a secluded area of the ship. So, they get on board, blast their way on to the bridge, and confront "that pointy eared bastard". Right? Well, like I said, in lesser hands...
But here's what they did to make what could have been a throw away scene into a memorable scene. When they arrive on the Enterprise, Kirk is alone. He calls out for Scotty. The only response is a knocking sound coming from inside the metal tube he's standing next to. As soon as Kirk realizes Scotty is in the tube, the tube is filled with water and poor Scotty is flushed out towards a large turbine. Kirk has to save him by opening a valve. That act alerts the crew that Kirk is back on board. Kirk and Scotty are ushered on to the bridge where Kirk has his confrontation with Spock.
It plays as a quick comedy / action scene, and it is. But it serves a greater purpose.
Actually two purposes:
One, it keeps the viewer intrigued by adding suspense. Imagine if they'd just beamed aboard and stormed the bridge with phasers set to stun. How many times have we seen that in the innumerable space adventure films since Star Trek first beamed into American homes back in 1966? No one would care about that scene. The way they handle it makes it serve the purpose of keeping the viewers interest. But more importantly...
Two, it keeps things moving by economically by getting the characters where they need to be faster. How much time would the "storming the bridge" scene have taken? Again, the way it is handled, Spock has the guards march the intruders on to the bridge. No extended, unnecessary, boring fire fight between people not trying to kill each other. Instead we get to the point.
But speaking of fire fights...
In the second scene, Kirk and Spock are being beamed aboard the Romulan ship to confront the alien baddies and save Earth. Right before beaming them, Scotty says he's sending them to the cargo bay...that is if the Romulan ship designers built it using common sense. Sure enough, our heroes end up smack dab in the middle of armed Romulans, and so ensues a real fire fight. There are no phasers set to stun here. There's real danger. So instead of having to sneak around the ship for a couple of minutes, we get beamed right into the action.
The reason I found both of these scenes noteworthy is that both scenes flipped the action in a humorous way to not only make the moment more interesting but to also keep the pace of the film moving. It also doesn't hurt that both scenes involved the comedic stylings of Simon Pegg.
As I enter into a second draft on The Next Big Lance, I want to start utilizing this tool in my own writing -- give simple scenes a little flip to make them more interesting and more mindful of the pace of the script.
