Monday, August 29, 2011

Collaboration moving story

This is an example of feedback and collaboration moving a story along. Here is what we got and how it generated change in the idea:

On 22 August 2011 12:37, Chas Fisher wrote:

Hey pirateers!

I have a challenge for you. Khrob and I are perilously close to starting a beat outline and then, shortly afterwards, a 1st draft. Exciting times. However, there is one sequence in the film that is troubling me.

Would you all mind reading the last three blog posts in the following order and then sending us your thoughts?

[I have removed the blog links because they are private.]
Many thanks and much love

Chas

From: Stu Willis
Date: Mon, 22 Aug 2011 14:04:10 +1000

While discussed by many authors and script gurus, it was Stephen Cleary in his VCA lectures that really clearly put across the principle that character creates plot (in that the character motivations and decisions lead the character from obstacle to the next) and that plot creates character (without sources of antagonism, the character would never change).

I haven't finished reading through the documents, but this stood out to me.

For my money, Cleary's "formulation" is this: Plot is character expressed over time.

In your particular instance, if you have a firm idea of who you want the character to be - but you don't feel it is being expressed - then the only way to fix it is to change the plot.

Sounds like to me that you're not happy with either Scenario 1 or 2.

So start with what you *need* the audience to understand about your character by this point and work backwards to find ways to show it.

Yeah, it might mean rethinking things like "the device" or "the papers" but so be it. That's the stuff at rewriting. But it shows that the process is working. Normally this kind of mismatches wait until first drafts or whatever to rear their ugly head.

On 22 August 2011 14:09, Chas Fisher wrote:

What do I need the audience to understand about Sam?

Simply that for her to be fulfilled in life, she needs to live for others - as her father before her did, as Aloysius regretted not doing, as Shah does. This does not mean she should never do anything for herself, but that leading her life only thinking about herself and what she needs only brings her short-term pleasure (if any) and leaves a lot of wreckage on the way.

So over the time of the film, she needs to:
a) Recognise the damage she does to others;
b) Recognise the value in living for others; and
c) Choose to live that life.

From: Stu Willis
Date: Mon, 22 Aug 2011 14:13:36 +1000

And how do you show the audience these*:

a) Recognise the damage she does to others;
b) Recognise the value in living for others; and
c) Choose to live that life.

*And, as far as I'm concerned, action isn't the only acceptable answer.

(And, how does showing these relate to the sequence we're talking about?)

From: Chas Fisher
Date: Mon, 22 Aug 2011 14:51:51 +1030

Man, I want your job Stu. Let's torture the writer with questions he obviously doesn't know the answer to. Possible answers in red below.

And how do you show the audience these*:

a) Recognise the damage she does to others; Aloysius is whipped and then killed. She kills Jock. Shah is sentenced to death because he had faith in her. Her recognition of this happens in the scene with Shah (like any great antagonist at the end of the 2nd Act, they can in dialogue describe the character's problem and choice.
b) Recognise the value in living for others; and
This one is tougher and possibly what is currently missing. Again, Shah could simply point out that if she had at any point truly committed to finding the murderer instead of looking out for her own hide, she would have prevented her current situation. While I am happy with question a) in how it is shown then told, I am less happy with this one. Not much showing and telling feels like my only option.
c) Choose to live that life.

Finding the killer. Confronting him. Risking her own life in the process.

*And, as far as I'm concerned, action isn't the only acceptable answer.

(And, how does showing these relate to the sequence we're talking about?)

The sources of antagonism become stronger in the 2nd half of the film (these sequences run from the end of Act II to halfway through Act III, just short of the climax). They are no longer satisfied with her doing the least possible. She must now commit, in this sequence, to doing more than what is necessary to survive or secure her best interests.

Just in case I sounded ungrateful: I do appreciate the questions and, yes, the process is clearly working. I would much rather be banging my head against the table now rather than between 1st and 2nd draft when it is so much harder to unravel.

Anyone have any out of leftfield plot points that could convey the same character traits?

From: Steve Goldsworthy
Date: Mon, 22 Aug 2011 15:01:16 +1000

As an extra rock-and-hard-place to throw at you:

Recognise the value in living for others:
Again, Shah could simply point out that if she had at any point truly committed to finding the murderer instead of looking out for her own hide, she would have prevented her current situation.

But is this living for others - or just pointing that if she'd made a different set of decisions, her own hide would be better off?

If the lesson is to recognise the value in living for others, then she needs to make sacrifices, not just realise that looking after other people is often better for her in the long run, too.

But this creates a bigger problem: berating your most vulnerable character (the hostage girl on the pirate ship in fear of being raped and killed) for not being willing to take more risks and make more sacrifices...

There has to a turning point where the audience go from simply wanting her to survive, whatever it takes, to wanting her to survive, with honour and altruism. Where is the turning point?

On Mon, Aug 22, 2011 at 5:13 PM, Stu Willis wrote:

I realise this is a question for Chas, but its far more exciting than approving timesheets.

For me, these kind of turning points are tough. To make them work I think you need to take a character turning point and frame it within a shift of point of view (ie to use cleary speak, to go from curious sympathy to concerned sympathy).

Mad Men does it in its first season by revealing the backstory of Don Draper. Don's reminiscing about his past is the character moment, but its revelation to us is a shift of point of view. We've gone from being curiously sympathetic to Don to being empathetic with him (or at least having as much knowledge as he does). Its a powerful moment because its the alignment of those things.

In the case of Creed, I think for it be the most emotionally effectively, we would need to be with Sam when she decides to act with honour and altruism.

just my US$1

From: Chas Fisher
Date: Mon, 22 Aug 2011 15:46:47 +1030

I hear ya Steve, but that said her alternative choices would have seemed to her to be sacrificial. Also, her decision to blow a hole in the bottom of the ship in order to save the crew and root out a murderer... very sacrificial.

In terms of berating the vulnerable character, I feel that by that stage of the film (once she has climbed the rigging to confront a banshee, used a dead body to find a secret compartment, etc) the audience will feel that it is ok to confront her decisions. Certainly would not be appropriate early on! But her power in becoming the investigator can shown in how the crew treat her in the interviews. Begrudging respect means that she has the space to make decisions, rather than simply reacting to external forces in the only way possible. And the making of decisions reveal her character: her need to preserve her own interests at the expense of all others.

From: Steve Goldsworthy
Date: Mon, 22 Aug 2011 18:37:46 +1000

Actually, I've changed my mind on this - because of the opening scene where Sam callously abandons her fellow actor to the pirates. So right from the start, the audience is thinking 'I hope she survives, but I wish she wasn't such a bitch.' No need for a turning point.

So then it's a question of balance - Sam has to be sympathetic enough for us to want her to survive, but not so sympathetic we don't want her to change.

On 22/08/2011, at 20:10, Chas Fisher wrote:

I think we can hit that balance.

There are other scenes where she becomes less "bitch-like" (i.e. less self-centred):

  • Where she tends to Aloysius' wounds
  • The interviews where she is embarrassed and slowly exposed to the callous evil of the society she herself has been expelled from
  • Where she seduces Shah but they genuinely connect
  • Her reaction to Aloysius' death
  • Her climbing of the rigging to possible death
  • Her discovery of the compartment
  • And then the final push - confronting Nathaniel, being blinded, stopping a massacre and delivery unto Nathaniel his just rewards.

The "turning point" as such is the issue. Where to put it and, as Stu asks, HOW to put it.

On Mon, Aug 22, 2011 at 3:54 PM, Stu Willis wrote:

Man, I want your job Stu. Let's torture the writer with questions he obviously doesn't know the answer to. Possible answers in red below.

Ha.

a) Recognise the damage she does to others; Aloysius is whipped and then killed. She kills Jock. Shah is sentenced to death because he had faith in her. Her recognition of this happens in the scene with Shah (like any great antagonist at the end of the 2nd Act, they can in dialogue describe the character's problem and choice.

In dialogue... Hmm.

How could you do it without dialogue?

b) Recognise the value in living for others; and

This one is tougher and possibly what is currently missing. Again, Shah could simply point out that if she had at any point truly committed to finding the murderer instead of looking out for her own hide, she would have prevented her current situation. While I am happy with question a) in how it is shown then told, I am less happy with this one. Not much showing and telling feels like my only option.

Again, how could you do it without dialogue?

c) Choose to live that life.

Finding the killer. Confronting him. Risking her own life in the process.

How is this a consequence of (not just subsequent) to (a) and (b)?

(And, how does showing these relate to the sequence we're talking about?)

The sources of antagonism become stronger in the 2nd half of the film (these sequences run from the end of Act II to halfway through Act III, just short of the climax). They are no longer satisfied with her doing the least possible. She must now commit, in this sequence, to doing more than what is necessary to survive or secure her best interests.

Hmm.

So how does either of your scenarios show her doing more than what is necessary to survive / secure her best interests? (Emphasis added because they're three discreet bits of info)

From: Chas Fisher
Date: Tue, 23 Aug 2011 10:38:06 +1030

Answers, such as they are, in blue.

How could you do it without dialogue?

I am already attached to this scene without even having written it. It is romantic, charged, full of antagonism and desire. Every film I have watched recently has this scene, where the protagonist's weaknesses and choice are enunciated clearly for him. I watched the Bourne Supremacy last night (total dialogue for Matt Damon is about 5 lines) and still the scene with Brian Cox in the hotel room is dialogue where an antagonist states the protagonist's conflict: "You'll always be a killer Jason. Do it! - She wouldn't want me to". A wonderful scene.

Nevertheless, considering you took 8 seconds to type "how could I do it without dialogue?" and "what can you do to show her doing more than what is necessary to survive", I will try to do the exercise:
- She finds the papers. She now has (in Jack Sparrow parlance) leverage. She can have her cake and eat it too. Jock is dead. She can hold the papers ransom to protect Shah and herself. That way she doesn't feel guilty and she is safe.
- She makes her way to see Shah. Only Mister is guarding the door. No matter what she says, he won't let her in. This complete lack of faith in her, his complete certainty that anything that comes out of her mouth will come to no good, breaks her down. She sees that it is true. She breaks down and sees her choice...
- All the audience see here is her discovery, her ingenuity and determination in getting to see Shah only that she is stopped. Completely. For the first time in the whole film, we see her sad, distraught, broken. She rails against Mister, slapping, hitting, crying as loudly as she dares that it is not her fault. He is not moved. Finally, one the cleansing tears have passed, she can simply say: "All around me people suffer for doing the 'right' thing. But no one else is going to die because I do the wrong thing."
- This leads me to the realisation that, as a little girl, she subconsciously blamed herself for her father's death. Maybe her father actually asked her (an 8-year-old girl) what she should do and she told him he should do the right thing. She feels, secretly, that it is her fault her father died. And then with Aloysius, and now with Shah...

I feel like I am getting somewhere...

b) Recognise the value in living for others; and

Again, how could you do it without dialogue?

So: to do it without dialogue we need to present examples of the value in living for others positively (Shah, Mister, Aloysius), examples of living for yourself negatively (Sam, Jock, Nathaniel) and then again present Sam with two courses of action, and show her choosing something that, at the beginning of the story, she would not have chosen. Agreed?

Into all this comes Nathaniel's offer. I really like it as a choice because it highlights her plight well. Do I let the crew and Shah rot with a murderer on board or do I try to find out who it really is? So the timing of this proposal in the plot and her decision is pivotal. I have always been in favour of her accepting (because I think she must be a real bitch before being redeemed) but maybe, maybe, it is the litmus test of her change. That she leaves Nathaniel hanging. That at the beginning of the film we see a sailor propose to her and she says yes if you have money and security and means. Then, when offered another proposal with money security and means, she says no.

What do you think? Maybe the order has been bugging me because I was always set on Sam saying "yes", when in fact she could just say no.

c) Choose to live that life.

After having watched Bourne Supremacy (and the same applies in Kiss Kiss Bang Bang or in LA Confidential) it is expected of a thriller that the protagonist simply commit to a course of action, risking life and limb, without doubt. If Sam were to do the same, it would be in stark contrast to her plotting, scheming and calculating actions previously. This could be deliciously highlighted by her taking Nathaniel into her confidence (much like the detective sidekick to explain what the detective thinking, a "Watson" if you will), explaining to him (and the audience) her machinations.

This is a very round-a-bout way of saying that once the leaps into action, tumbling towards the climax, uncaring of her own safety, she is choosing to live for others in a very real way. Plus the audience tends to stop caring and just wants the baddies' uppance to come at the hands of the protagonist.

How is this a consequence of (not just subsequent) to (a) and (b)?

It can only be a consequence if it is presented as a choice. She could chose to continue notwithstanding knowing that she is responsible for what has happened and now values living for others. Which is why this sequence is a series of choices. She could knock Nathaniel back. Admit to Mister (and to herself) her role in the events and commit to a new course of action.

From: Stu Willis
Date: Tue, 23 Aug 2011 13:39:28 +1000

I watched the Bourne Supremacy last night (total dialogue for Matt Damon is about 5 lines) and still the scene with Brian Cox in the hotel room is dialogue where an antagonist states the protagonist's conflict: "You'll always be a killer Jason. Do it! - She wouldn't want me to". A wonderful scene.

The scene works not because of its dialogue. It works because (a) its the midpoint of entire trilogy; and (b) the dialogue merely summarises what we have already seen. Brian Cox's character CLEARLY is convinced that Jason Bourne is nothing but a killer; meanwhile Jason's whole journey is about not being a killer. The film is very careful to show him NOT kill people.

When they beated out this scene it wouldn't have been written; "Jason talks to Brian Cox", It would have been "Jason pulls out a gun, sticks it to Brian Cox's head, who begs for him to kill him, but Jason walks away". The scene could've played without dialogue and it still would have been clear.

I know thats what you're going for here. I'm just tying to push you in a place where you go beyond mere dialogue, and the dialogue becomes an expression of what we've already been feeling.

NB: I realise I'm a hypocrite here. The deal scene of Payload is pure dialogue, and I knew I'd get away with it because of the story's structure.

NBx2: I actually agree with David Mamet and think dialogue can be action.

Nevertheless, considering you took 8 seconds to type "how could I do it without dialogue?" and "what can you do to show her doing more than what is necessary to survive", I will try to do the exercise:

8 seconds? Seems I spent more time thinking about it than you did ;) (Two can play at facetious)

I feel like I am getting somewhere...

Still sounds

So: to do it without dialogue we need to present examples of the value in living for others positively (Shah, Mister, Aloysius), examples of living for yourself negatively (Sam, Jock, Nathaniel) and then again present Sam with two courses of action, and show her choosing something that, at the beginning of the story, she would not have chosen. Agreed?

Yeah.

What do you think? Maybe the order has been bugging me because I was always set on Sam saying "yes", when in fact she could just say no.

That seems better to me.

It can only be a consequence if it is presented as a choice.

And boom.

[I, Chas, added the bold on the boom because I found it so satisfying.]

Saturday, August 6, 2011

To adverb or not to adverb - Line by Line participant response

Adverbs - On Writing

So yeah, last Line by Line found a few of us in a sporty exploration of the use of adverbs in our writing. I walked away genuinely puzzled as to what the hell I thought about them. If they are evil. If it's a witch hunt believing they're evil? Why do I have this idea in my head that it is? I know a few writing teachers have taken me to task before but is this legit or not?

What i'm talking about is (typically) words that end in ly. "She glanced at him resignedly." "He shrugged wryly"

- He flashes his finger towards her aggressively, "Don't tell me what I'm thinking!"

I googled around a couple of scripts. I went for Lost In Translation and The Kings Speech (which won the last best screenplay). In these I found rules being broken all over the shop.

Rules.

If they are good rules or not I started to wonder…

I think it's one thing to write unplayable subtext, it's a bit different I think to use a few adverbs. I think there's reasons to try to avoid them both but think there's a couple decent counter arguments.
~
Firstly, on unplayable directions I found a host of fantastic examples in Lost In Translation. I should say first that I love the film. I thought it was fantastic. It seemed a film where so much is not being said that I wondered how Copolla had gone about writing these scenes.

A few examples were:

We see Bob's POV of tables of people talking. JAPANESE WOMEN
SMOKING, AMERICAN BUSINESSMEN tying one on, talking about
software sales. A WAITER carefully setting down a coaster,
and pouring a beer very, very slowly. It's all very foreign.

INT. CHARLOTTE'S ROOM - DAY

Charlotte lies on the floor with big headphones on, listening
to a book on tape. After a corny music intro, a very serious
scholar man's voice speaks clearly :

(text removed)

Charlotte tries to get into it, but can't get past feeling
like a loser listening to a self-help tape.
~
I reckon these, particularly the second one, is a real good example of writing that is unplayable. I remember watching the scene where she is listening to the tape and she is gazing off.

I gleaned that maybe she doesn't care for what she is hearing or her mind is elsewhere or that she is unhappy/lonely. I didn't get that she couldn't get into it cause self help tapes seem lame to her. Maybe some might in that moment but I think it's so ambiguous and unplayable that without a real caricature you wouldn't be able to make it clear. Even then you might misread the caricature.

Again with Bob's scene I remember him sitting there looking around glumly but I didn't particularly get at that MOMENT that everything felt foreign. At this point in the movie I didn't yet know where he was in his head.

So is it just bad to right stuff like this? I reckon yes and no. I think it could be useful because it informs the director and actors (and producers) of the subtext that the author at least has in mind. That can be useful in helping them build a picture of the character and how they might approach the scene or subsequent scenes.

Ultimately I think it's dangerous, particularly for those who don't have Hollywood opening up to them you cause of your last name. I feel it's writing moments that very likely wont land as you see them. We get so used to our work and what it all means.

Perhaps it doesn't matter so much whether the full meaning comes across to most viewers all the time. It wont stop Sophia's film from working if we just get that Charlotte is distant and sad at this point.

The habit is threatening I think cause we might not see really key things, elements might be starting to blur and not land and it really is important that they do. I feel I want to be trying to script stuff that is going to read for an audience through the actions, images and words alone.

The other benefit though, apart from suggesting subtext is that it is shorthand for producers and anyone in a funding body or pretty well anyone who could be trying to get through your script fast and make assessments on it and what you're trying to do. People who read 100s of scripts every month are going to hammer through ours also and clarifying subtext like this can help them get the point quickly.

Again though it is maybe troubling if they can't get that point without you signposting it? :( If it isn't in the actions and diaologue it's maybe not the best?

Again though, Kings Speech had a handful of unplayable subtextual notes and adverbs in the snatch of scenes I read and this won best screen play. So yeah; grains of salt.
~
In regards to adverbs, I think i've been swayed by a few influential figures who have published reams on why not to use them. I notice in my own scripts that I continue to use them and a lot of writers do. This is all your sadly, shyly, softly etc.

I was really influenced by Stephen King's book "On Writing" and wish i'd made more notes on what he had to say… He hates adverbs with such passion that he scans everything he every writes and tries to remove every single one. He's big on the idea that you don't even describe how a line is delivered but if you have to then try not to use more than "he said". The reason as far as I can recall - and this is on novel writing though the man has written a lot of screenplays as well (most of them pretty weak though he did write The Shining and whether you like him or not he has sold a TRUCKLOAD of novels - Sorry… point is, he's of the opinion that in what a character is doing and saying you should know what is going on. You should know how the line is being delivered by virtue of the context, what has gone before and the logic established by the writing craft and through their actions and words.

Maybe there is something to this. I did count a few adverbs on Lost In Translation & Kings Speech though...

I put my finger on the other source that had me trying to avoid adverbs lately and that's a director by the name of Judith Weston. I've been reading a text of hers on performance that i've found ridiculously good. Honestly i kinda feel like i've learned more from a few chapters of this book than I did from 3 years of Actor Director at VCA.

While I feel the passage below isn't gobsmacking stuff I think it is fairly solid. If you really can't be bothered reading it then i'll try to sum up as imperfectly as I can.

Using adverbs is a means of making a clear, defined line reading (or meaning) to all your lines. It's saying: "when he says this he is just joking and when she responds she is a bit nervous" It's how we control the logic of our scenes and make the drama clear.

There are two reasons why it might not be the best idea to do this. One, is that in using adverbs it's easy to make a scene seem to convey something that perhaps is not there so clearly in the actual material (discussed later). Two, and this might seem contentious at first, but it discourages interpretation. It pushes the writer's instincts of structure and control onto every moment of the film. What we see while we are writing is "This is the moment where he goes from not caring to caring. He starts off cavalier as hell and is offending her but the way she responds and charms him makes something change. This is what is important. This is what i'm going to make work every line and fibre of this discourse. That is it. Here is how it happens. Done."

The subconscious currents in the act of writing however can be deeper at any point than we realise. We might see two main things as happening in a scene but we might be missing some really fascinating dynamics that could also be at play. In fact I think it's almost probable that we will. A way of seeing is a way of not seeing.

Since we are so concerned with the arc of the scene or this portion of the film we might be missing something fantastic that could be happening at the same time and it could be as simple as the attitude applied to a line.

So can't this be found on the day? Isn't that the "director's" job? To work the material and find whatever can make it better? Yes. Damn straight. The only problem is that spattering everything with adverbs can really start to straightjacket the writing. If the director or the actor is struggling just to get a shot in the can then time and time again they might play with the most SURFACE read of each line. You're handing it to them in a lunch box. If there is no time in pre for script analysis then again everything might be played straight as arrows.

So what? Maybe we know what it is we're trying to say and what our character's are feeling and if it's directed the way we write it then relax, it's gonna be great. In fact, with luck it'll be me directing it and I like it meaning what I want it to mean.

I think this is a danger again. Same reason as why it can be bad to edit our own films. We get so locked into seeing something one way that we don't look as hard for other clues. I know that personally if i'm directing someone elses writing I look over the whole thing and every moment and examine how I think it can be turned into flesh and blood and work as action. It's surprising how often the best way to play something turns out to be skewed from what you first thought when you wrote it. Chemistry in performance, magic in filmmaking tends not to come from closing down possibilities from the beginning.

This is moving a little sideways from the discussion of clarity. Where we started the discussion the other night was around whether adverbs are clouding a scene and making it less playable. Now we've been looking at freeing up a work on one hand but what about clarity?

Well trying to avoid adverbs isn't to say you shouldn't try to right a clear, defined narrative where you know what is happening and what your character is feeling (to you) and you want to communicate that. I think adverbs though are the writer constantly tapping the director (and actors) on the shoulder and saying REALLY. PLAY THIS RESULT TO THE LINE/SCENE. YOU ARE ANGRY. It's another layer to push beyond to find the best film buried in there. In fact Weston's approach is to cross out every adverb in a script before you start directing it. Paradoxically they can sometimes act as a barrier to finding the truth and playability of a line because it's suggesting a result. Play this line sexy. Play this line angry. Play this line sad. Adverbs put that barb in before each line or gesture. They're performance notes, line reads, and get in the way of finding the overall objective and through line of a scene
. It's really the stuff of directing.


BUT

However. And this is a really big but. Honestly. Weston herself admits it can make a lot of sense to use adverbs in the writing just to be sure that when that script is being read at 100 miles an hour by some funding body, producer, etc, that what they need to see happening is clear. This is a reason why maybe scripts tend to have these but maybe directors then go and cross them out.

I tend to feel (even with the real valid point that this script could be read FAST) that again Stephen King is watching me and saying that "it should make sense and play right without the adverbs explaining what is right there already. If you have to explain what it means then it quite possibly isn't transmitting on its own.
"
~
Having said all this I do find myself using them myself because it is just EASY sometimes and seems so damn natural. I don't think they're the devil with horns.

My feeling is just that I think it's worth being cautious with them as we all approach feature writing cause it is such a taxing business writing a script AT ALL that we could find ourselves slipping in to them when the actions and dialogue really are NOT saying what our descriptions are suggesting. They can sometimes start blurring scenes towards something playable on a very basic level (play it angry/sexy) or straightjacketing a director and actor one day from doing something greater because we want to make sure we're making story point A perfectly in each and every line of the scebe. It could be a contributor to the writing not working as well one day as it might.
~
This is just the journey i've gone on in my head and poking around these last couple of days. Feel free to disagree. At the end of the day two amazingly strong scripts were written that were littered with adverbs and unplayable directions. Though I am talking out of my arse there a little since I have only read a snippet of those scripts.

Below is a passage from Weston's book that describes her approach as a director to adverbs. She is a lot more clever than me so if you are still reading I reckon check it out. I know i'll keep writing flourishes that I think are worth writing, to suggest MY TAKE on subtext and performance and i'll be a hypocrite in this way : D but oh well!

Still.

Richard Williamson
Line by Line paritcipant

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Airing a screenwriting argument

Sharing scenes last night spaked off an interesting argument. I had written: "She was happy to be surprised." The debate that followed is the ye old "only write what you can see". There were, as always, two sides.

In one corner: the only-write-what-you-can-see, only write actions or dialogue. This discipline will force you to create meaning through subtext, so that the reader imposes only the meaning that the writer wants. This is something I aspire to.

In the other corner: those who believe that you can write certain emotions into a text because (a) an actor can play those emotions and (b) it provides the reader with a tone and feeling in as little as one word that could otherwise be missed.

For example, it would be alright to say "He held out his hands reluctantly" because no matter what subtext has been created by the actions, the way a character holds out their hands could be in contrast (signally a beat change or turning point) to the existing flow of the scene.

However, we were all agreed that "She looks out the window praying to all deities that this Sunday would end" is not playable and not appropriate.

The example I used that sparked the debate was:

Joshua, unmoved, waits for the point.

What do you think? Unplayable? Possibly. But is it acceptable in a script to use lines such as this to create feeling in the reader? I personally prefer it to:

Joshua does nothing.

Addressing nagging doubts...

One thing was clear: Thus far, the incredible speakers kindly donating their time had inspired us all to write and participate in the crazy industry of filmmaking. We at Line by Line could see we were being of service by putting writers together in a room with individuals experienced in the art of story-telling.

However, as much as we would love to pat ourselves on the back, a suspicion was beginning to nag: Was anyone actually writing?

Exploring the nagging doubt...

Each session, we were spending more and more time listening to these incredible people and not actually working on writing or collaborating on ideas. Each session, we would set proposed development goals that could assist people in moving their story or script along and yet we could not see or hear any results...

One of the commitments we made when we started Line by Line was that we would provide a structure and support for participants to reach a treatment or a first draft of a feature by the end of the eight session program. To this end, we had set up an online forum so that people could upload their work and share it with the community, get feedback and keep moving on the story.

However, no one was sharing.

Addressing the nagging doubt...

So, we decided that the following two LxL sessions were going to be about us; we were going to be the speakers and we were going to inspire each other to write. The task: bring a key scene from your project and have it read out loud and work on it.

Before we started on that though, we conducted an inquiry as to why people were not sharing and what Line by Line could provide to support and inspire each other in writing. What was interesting was that people felt very comfortable sharing within a room in person but not uploading their work and receiving a barrage of email feedback. So it became clear that the community in the room was working for everyone but the online community was not.

Solution: Community

When asked what we could do to support each other, the proposed solutions turned out to be pretty simple:
  1. That everyone post in the online community each week what goals they were setting for themselves in the coming week and whether they had met their goals from the previous week;
  2. That we provide chocolate as a reward for people meeting their goals.
The barrage of online sharing that came the following days was wonderful. The following week presented a steep fall as no one had made their goals and everyone was too scared to share that fact. Ironic, when it would only have made everyone feel better to know that we were all human and that some writing, some movement, some progress was inspiring.

Solution: Collaboration

Needless to say, the reading of the scenes out loud in a room was a wonderful exercise. The writers got to clearly see - objectively - what worked and did not work in the scene. The feedback was generous and considered and constructive.

And, best of all, everyone who had not written a scene left the room committed to going home and churning one out for the next session.

Lesson learnt: all that is needed to inspire writers is sharing, collaboration and chocolate!

Chas