30 Tips To Get You Writing Your Screenplay

1. Set a timer on your phone. Let's say an hour. Sit and don't do anything for that hour. Don't look at your phone again, don't turn on the TV. Don't tweet. It's just you and the chair. Don't write down ideas that come to you, don't do anything. Sit, think, dream. But no action. 

As creative people we often snap into action the second we feel we have a seed of an idea. So often, it's a false alarm, a restless brain. Take the time to sit with your ideas. If you want to write them down, tough. Not during this hour. 

2. Write a feature film in less than an hour, by outlining it scene by scene as it comes into your brain. Like this:

MARK is at the office, bored and depressed. 

SALLY is working a double shift at the cake shop. She hates it. 

MARK walks into the CAKE shop. He's depressed. SALLY tells him to buy a cake. He does so.

MARK walks out of the store, wishing he'd got her number. 

The cake shop EXPLODES. 

MARK sprints inside, he hunts for SALLY in between the flames. 

The example above is me being silly -- that wouldn't make a good film at all. But a good shortcut with writing is just to outline ideas as they come to you. To throw caution to the wind. Don't write a masterpiece, just find the next sentence. 

Before you know it, you've outlined a whole movie. If it sucks, who cares? You've lost nothing but an hour or two. If it's good? Go back to it and build from it. 

3. Write a bad script. Even if your ideas are AWFUL, or NON-EXISTENT, write it anyway. You'll learn from it. Some people spend five years writing no scripts because their ideas aren't good enough. But in fact, if you wrote 15 bad scripts in that time, you'd learn so much about yourself and your writing. 

4. Quit. Go do something else. Become a shepherd, get into a relationship with a trout. If you quit for good, then it probably wasn't for you -- but if you come back to it some day, then maybe the break is exactly what you needed. Some people write their masterpieces in their 70's. Some people have great talent, but have nothing to say. Rather than sitting in your room trying to force a script out, go volunteer in Africa. Go visit a friend in France. Anything is better than sitting around not writing. 

5. Be around people who make you laugh. 

6. Do things that make you uncomfortable. Just past your comfort zone is where you have the interesting experiences, and meet people that you didn't think you'd ever come across. 

7. When a friend asks you to do something that you don't want to do --- instead of making the excuse that you're tired, or have work in the morning, say 'yes' to the offer and go and do the thing you don't want to do. 

8. Work on the script that's been circling around your brain since you were 13. You know the one; the script you've been destined to write because it's so personal yet have always stayed away from because you don't have enough clarity. Attack it like you know exactly what to write. And guess what, you do know how to write it, you're just a scaredy cat. That's right. 

9. Realise your inner-critic has absolutely no jurisdiction over your life. What has it ever done? All it does is shout at you from some self-righteous position within your own brain. Tell it to go for a long walk. You can actually train yourself to listen to your inner-critic. You'll actually hear that voice in you that says, "you suck, you're a fraud, you have no talent", or maybe it's worse, maybe it says, "your parents were right, you're a waster, and your girlfriends that dumped you had the right idea too....". 

Stop and think for a minute. With that voice in your head, you'll never get any work done.

You have to understand that the inner-critic is there to save you from perceived threats, from embarrassing yourself. But when you're 89 and dead, you won't regret being embarrassed. But you will regret not writing a script because some bitch on Facebook thought you had no talent, and you'll regret not sending your script to a producer just because an inner voice said you're talentless. 

Get your act together and stop listening to that bullshit. It's nonsense. 

10. Take a moment to look around, breath; and realise that it's only screenwriting. It's make-believe, a bit of fun. 

11. If you're stuck on a particular script, then write some random scenes for fun. For example, if you're writing a tense FBI thriller; write a scene where your characters are at the zoo for no reason. When your FBI agents and detectives are taken out of their context, and find themselves at a zoo for no reason other than to look at penguins, you'll find yourself amused by them, and you'll see them in a different light. 

It doesn't have to be the zoo. It can be anywhere. Just take your characters out of the story and write a random scene for fun. 

12. Stop asking for people's opinions every five minutes. A lot of people out there will stop you from writing. Sometimes it's jealousy or competitiveness, but mostly it's because --- all people have different ideas. Writing is about having your own ideas, your own vision. EVERYONE THINKS THEY KNOW what a good story is, EVERYONE. Why? Nobody knows. But people will talk you out of anything. 

STEPHEN KING 

I want to write a story about two guys in a prison called Shawshank. It's about hope, and friendship.

BOB

I can't see how that would work.

STEPHEN KING

It'll be great. 

BOB 

No Stephen. A story needs something more interesting -- like a love interest, or maybe a conspiracy at the prison --- maybe, I know, maybe one of the inmates is a former boxer with a drug addiction who wants to join the CIA. 

This is what people are like! They're mental! They think your ideas suck. And even when they think they're good, they'll still offer suggestions! And these things throw you -- because some people can speak so authoritatively. 

Stop asking for opinions and get writing, get it done. 

13. Shut up. Sit down. Write. 

14. Write about the personal stuff. The insecurity you feel when you're around people who intimidate you, or the confidence you feel when you're doing what you love, or the heartbreaks you felt when people left you. I know that stuff is painful, but it's where the gold is. It's where you have to mine for insight. Your experiences are PERSONAL. They're YOUR OWN. But they're also universal. 

If you're not sharing who you really are, then you're not doing a good job. 

15. Get dumped. 

16. Dump someone. 

17. Dump someone. Get back with them. Dump them again. Get into an argument. Propose to them. Make them cry. Get beaten up by their family. 

All that stuff helps. Creativity comes from chaos. 

18. But you can't be your most creative in the midst of chaos. You need to find your place. Your room. Your ocean. Your garden. Wherever it is. You need to find your place where the omens are good, where the world says "Write, and be yourself!" Stop making excuses and make sure you go there to do your work. 

19. Come on, get off of Twitter. Leave Facebook alone. 

"@kidinfrontrow is five pages into my screenplay, YAY."

Who cares? No-one. Don't go for short and quick gratification. Save it for when you can say "I WROTE THE WHOLE BLOODY THING! YEAH!"

Social networks are a distraction. They have their purpose, sure, but they don't help you get into your imagination. Study after study has shown that these distractions stop us from focusing. Neuroscience has proved that we can't multitask, that it takes 25 minutes to refocus after a distraction. 

You can be the exception to the rule if you want, but instead I think you should shut out the distractions and focus on your writing. 

20. Think about dying. Will you say "I wish I had tweeted more", or maybe, "I wish I had done more browsing on the internet of a morning". Or will you wish you had spent more time on your passion, writing? 

21. Realise that your script doesn't have to be perfect. People get huge writers block due to perfectionism. Some of the most imperfect things can be perfect. The mistakes can resonate with people. Don't waste your time fearing it's not the best it can be. Just do what you can, then let go. 

22. Reconnect with an old friend. The one you haven't seen in seven years, who six months ago you emailed about catching up. There's something in those old friendships that, when you re-connect with them, they open up parts of you that you forgot about. There's something warm and exciting about rediscovering who you were and where you've come from. Again, this stuff is a Godsend, writing-wise. 

23. Read/Watch/Study your guilty pleasures. Because they're the things you really love. They hold the key to who you are and what you want to write about. 

24. Use a pen and paper. 

25. Go for a run. Do it regularly. It's good for your health, good for your memory, good for creative ideas, good in every single way. 

26. Get a pad and paper and just write. Write nonsense! Write anything. Just make sure words come out. It's like clearing out the trash --- eventually patterns will form, things will link up -- within the randomness, there'll be a message. 

27. Surround yourself with positive influences. Hang out with friends who love that you're a writer, watch YouTube videos of people who inspire you. Watch movies that you love. Have adventures with people who make you laugh. 

Writing is tough. It's hard work. It's gruelling and there will be so many things in the world that say "you're not good enough", and "you'll never make it!" You have to overcome these by yourself, but it helps to be surrounded by good people who believe in you. 

28. Figure out when you write the best. Is it early in the morning? Is it at night after everyone is asleep? Is it in the afternoon when you're fully awake? 

Think about your eating habits too. Does caffeine make you more, or less creative? Does pasta make you tired? Do you keep getting ideas after eating chocolate? 

Don't get too obsessed with this stuff, but look for patterns. 

29. Find your own voice. 

You do this by writing. A lot. 

And don't be afraid of your influences. Embrace them. You'll sound like them at first, but eventually you'll find your own way. It's all part of the journey. 

30. Realise it's a journey. A long and winding road, full of ups and downs. You have scripts you haven't written yet that will ABSOLUTELY SUCK.

But that's what it is to be a writer. 

Sometimes nobody believes in you, and your shitty writing proves them absolutely right. 

Until you get up again, write something new, and improve a little. 

Bit by bit, day by day. You keep writing. 

You keep finding your voice. 

Write, write, write. 

And enjoy it. Because, as I said, it's a journey.

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How To Have Authority On Set When Directing a Film

I remember it clearly, and it still kind of haunts me. The actress wanted some more direction, but she didn't look to me, the director, she looked at the actor who was standing next to me. The actor pitched in with his comments, "Yeah, you should look to the left, think about it, then shout the line as if you're really angry". 

The actress shouldn't have asked the actor what to do. 

The actor shouldn't have given her a direction.

And I shouldn't have allowed any of this to happen in the first place. 

But I was young and this happened ten years ago. Every director goes through this stage. The stage of losing control, of losing the trust of your actors, of losing your authority. Basically, it's when the actors think you don't have a clue what you're doing. 

And it hurts. 

So I'm here to tell you that you need to be confident, you need to know what you're doing, and you need to have authority. 

It's not about being dictatorial. It's about management, but more than that -- it's about creative vision. Anyone can have an idea in the room that feels great. Especially with comedy. Everybody thinks they know what is funny, there'll never be a shortage of voices chipping in, but it's of no help to you when you're in the editing room if it doesn't fit in with your vision. 

When you're making a film, it's your job, as a director, to know your characters and the story inside out.  When the actors are not quite nailing it, or they're insecure about what they're doing, they'll look to you for feedback. If you are not available to give it to them, they'll look for it elsewhere. And the worst case scenario is that the make-up artist is telling her what her character should be, or her boyfriend is giving her acting tips on the way home. When this happens, you lose your authority, you're an empty vessel.

Two years ago, I travelled across the country with the producer of my film, to read through the script with an actor who we were considering casting, and the actress who we'd already given a role to. It was going great -- and then the actor asked me a few questions about the meaning of the scene. I did what I like to do; I dreamed into the scene a little bit, allowed it to resonate with me and bring up some feelings. The producer, sitting next to me, saw what I was doing and made the assumption that I didn't have the answer. So he said, "What I think he means is, the character is really upset here, and struggling to get out his emotions." It was, of course, absolutely not what I meant to say nor did it have anything to do with the meaning of the scene. 

The problem wasn't that I didn't know what I was doing. The problem was that the producer was new to working with me and didn't know my process. I turned to the actors and said, "that's a really interesting viewpoint, but it's not what I mean at all." I then went on to explain very specifically what I wanted from the scene, and then the actors nailed it. The long journey home with the producer was rather heated as we discussed what had happened. But after that he knew not to meddle in what the actors were doing, as that wasn't his job. 

Which brings me on to an important point. We all direct in different ways. I recently wrote a screenplay for a director who loves to have ideas from all sides on the set. He loves hearing people yell out, "how about she wears a funny hat!?" or "Maybe we should film this scene with no sound!" He loves it. I am the opposite, especially with regards to the actors -- I don't want the sound guy talking to the actress about what he thinks her motivation is. There needs to be one director, that's how I work. And as I said at the beginning, it's not about being a dictator, it's about having a singular voice shaping the material. 

Take a Cameron Crowe movie. I guarantee there are moments in his films that the sound guys and the make-up artists just don't get, but then, they don't need to, because Crowe knows what he's doing. Those little subtle moments that are about a look, or a wave, or a smile. He knows what they need to be, even though everyone on the set might be thinking, "is that it?" and "do we really have it?". You'll have a lot of those moments yourself where you, as director, can see something that nobody else can see. That is what directing is, honing in on what you think is important. And when you really find something in a scene that MATTERS, it will almost certainly be the bit that half of the people on the set don't understand. At that moment, you need to be working with your actors. As long as they can grasp it, and as long as the Director of Photography knows what he's doing --- you're set. 

The title of this article is 'How To Have Authority On Set When Directing A Film'. The way to do that, is to make sure that everyone knows what you're about, how you work. If you need silence between takes so you can think, then you need to communicate that. If you need chaos, then let people know you need chaos. The set needs to be run in a way that suits your temperament. 

One of the secrets about film sets, especially when you're starting out with low-budget films, or (and especially) student films, is that everyone wants to be a director. Not only do they want to be a director, but they think they are already the greatest director in the world. The runner will want to chip in with a line change, the camera assistant will want to replace the joke about bananas with a wisecrack about apricots. You need to make sure that the people on your set are on the set to do the jobs they've been brought in to do. 

The more you direct, the easier it gets. Now, if I have a problem, I immediately deal with it by halting what we're doing and addressing the crew. Another thing that comes with experience is a reputation. When people know you can deliver, and that you have your own style, they'll be less inclined to chip in with needless ideas. And that's why I wrote this article; because you can't nail your own particular style if you get drowned out by others. There is nothing worse than losing the trust of your actors or crew on the set. It's a sinking feeling that is very hard to recover from. 

Be confident. Be strong. Make sure everyone on the set knows that you know what you're doing. 

But a few notes of caution. 

What I am talking about is artistic vision and direction, not dictatorship. If you think you know absolutely everything, you're clueless! There'll be stressful filming days when you're utterly confused. And there'll be times when it's 4am and you've been shooting for far longer than is legal, and you'll NEED the production assistant's help to remember what the character's motivation is. 

The point is to be open and transparent about what you need, as a director. It's about knowing your strengths, but it's also about knowing your weaknesses. My weakness is that I can't think on set if everyone is making small talk between takes -- my brain just can't process it. Rather than be a crazy loon who yells at everyone, I just make sure that everyone knows how I work. I have certain things that need to happen around me for me to be able to get in the zone. The more you make films, the more you'll find your own limitations and needs, and that's how you grow as a director.  

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Shoot Your First Short Film In Your Home On Your Phone

Are you a first time director? Are you struggling to get funding? Here's a tip:

Shoot everything in one location.

How? Why?

• Everyone is locked in the house. 
• Everyone is locked out of the house. 
• Everyone is waiting in the house for the thing to arrive. 
• The house is where the treasure is. 

Or perhaps:

•  There's a break-up (remember that episode when Ross & Rachel spent the whole time breaking up in Monica's apartment?)
• It's the rendezvous point (remember 'Reservoir Dogs'?)
• It's the place to muse about life (Reminds me of a great episode of 'One Foot In The Grave', where Victor spent the whole time in a Doctor's waiting room)
• They're stuck there (Saw? Big Brother?)

You can't afford a big beautiful HD camera to film it on?

Film it on your video phone:

• The world is about to end, there's a poisonous gas outside, and you video it for evidence. 
• The film is about someone secretly filming someone in a house. 
• It's a video of someone doing an audition via their iPhone, when suddenly; horror-type-things-happen, or there's an argument, or an unwelcome visitor. 

Film it on your Dad's old video camera:

• It's a rare-look-what-we-found-footage-film (Cloverfield, Blair Witch Project, The Troll Hunter)
• It's made to look like old camcorder footage (a film about memories, or a dead person, perhaps)
• It's a YouTube style sketch.
• It's a documentary/mockumentary

 The point is -- it's not about equipment. It's not about amazing locations. Ever seen a great viral video? We love them because they have heart. They surprise us. The same goes for short films. You don't need the latest HD camera to do something great. Pick up your iPhone, shoot your first movie.

"Perhaps it sounds ridiculous, but the best thing that young filmmakers should do is to get hold of a camera and some film and make a movie of any kind at all."

-Stanley Kubrick

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Finding Yourself As An Artist and Surpassing Blocks and Disturbances

Your agent is sitting on his ass. Your producer is strangling your creativity. Your co-writer is making negative remarks about your dialogue. 

Regardless of your success levels, everyone has these problems. The problem is that these issues come home with you, they eat away at your energy, they affect your life and creativity in a big way. Too often we forget about the dreaming behind our creativity and focus too much on the disturbances. 

Your dreams and aspirations are the guiding principle behind why you are an artist. It's important to get in touch with them as often as you can, because they really help keep you on the right path. 

We all have peak experiences -- when we are firing on all cylinders, and nothing can stop us. We feel happier, lighter, and our artistic selves are prospering. And there are other times when we're refusing to get out of bed, we tell everyone we're thinking of quitting, and we convince ourselves that we're talentless and that our work is embarrassing. 

Focus on your peak experiences. Can you remember a time when you felt fully alive and full of possibilities? FOCUS on that experience. Fully bring it alive in your memory. Stop reading for a second, and truly visualise it. 

Where were you? Who was there? How did you talk to people? Did it feel like there was a presence or a force supporting you? (Call it God, call it a good caffeine rush, whatever it was, for you). If you are able to strongly visualise this pleasing memory, it will make you feel good, you'll get some of those feelings back.

I have had many of these experiences. Many of them are from when I was a teenager and began making films. I was full of possibilities, extremely experimental, and everything made sense every time I wrote on a page, or pointed a camera at actors. 

Another time was in New York a few years ago. I felt super-powered. Like New York is my spiritual home and the world wanted me to be there. I would walk out of the apartment I was staying in and within five minutes I'd make a new friend, a new creative soulmate, it seemed to happen nearly every day. It was a magic time; the world seemed to work for me in every way. 
When was your peak experience? How did it make you feel? 

When you feel that you are fully in that experience, that you are not only remembering it but you are feeling some of its essence in you now --- how can you use that feeling in your work right now, today? Does that energy help you overcome some of the blocks and resistance you have been feeling? 

Let me know how it goes. 

What we have a tendency to do, is focus our energies on the roadblocks, whether they are external problems (i.e. investors, landlords, YouTube comments) or internal (lack of confidence, second-guessing, depression). This exercise is to help you get back some positive energy, by focusing on the dreaming processes that shape who you are as an artist, and what your goals and intentions are).

As a way of ending the exercise; it is good to write down a few words about yourself and your work, and the dreaming behind it. For example, I could write, "I have always strongly related to the work of writer/directors like Chaplin, Wilder, and Woody Allen, whose work as artists created meaning for themselves and the world around them. I believe that art lives forever and that my dream is to create work that will last, that will cheer people up and brighten their days for a long time to come."

Don't allow yourself to be critical or embarrassed about what you write, because it's a part of you and it's important to bring it out in you. An actress friend of mine yesterday was telling me about how she wants to work with disabled people to help give them a voice by using drama, another friend of mine was telling me a few days back about how books helped him understand the world when he was a kid, in a way that nothing else ever had -- and he wants to be an author so that he can bring that same feeling to future generations. 

Our dreams are important. When we fully access them, own them, and believe in them, we are able to step forward with more purpose and confidence. 

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Five Question Interview With Actor PETER JAMES SMITH

Peter James Smith is a terrific actor whose work I have enjoyed for many years. He's done stints on all the shows you love-- CSI, 24, Friends, and as as a regular for seven years on The West Wing. Five question interviews are great because we get to skip there 'where did you grow up' talk and get right to the heart of the work, the acting. It's a topic that Peter knows plenty about.

You have this habit of turning up in nearly every TV show I watch. I think I mentioned to you that I was casually watching 'Friends' a few weeks back, and there you were! I am always interested to know what it's like, as an actor, to work for one or two episodes on such iconic shows as 'Friends', 'E.R.', '24', etc. How is the experience? Is it daunting to step into --- and is it sad when the job is over?

Every experience is different. On Friends, the thing I remember most from being on the set was how friendly Jennifer Anniston was. From E.R., I remember how efficient the whole process was. From 24, I remember staying up all night long and watching them film a car crash. That was cool.

These experiences aren't necessarily daunting--I think it depends a lot on the friendliness of the cast, crew and director of the show/episode. I have had some wonderful welcoming experiences and experiences where I felt less than welcome.

I do tend to go into a little depression after the end of any job I have--whether it's an on camera job or an on stage job.

I also remember little lessons I learn on each job and audition to help me on future jobs and auditions. Out of the jobs mentioned above, I think the lesson I use the most is the one I learned on the Friends audition. The lesson I learned there was that one's personality is at least equally as important as one's acting ability. If I can show a bit of my personality... my wit, my friendliness, my banter, my willingness to work with changes... I think it makes the people in the room want to work with me. They not only want someone that can do the job, but someone they would enjoy working with.

How do you like your relationship with the Director to be -- what is the ideal? Do you like to be left alone, or do you like lots of access to the director?

I'd love access to the director. However, I find--especially in television--there is so little time to get an amazing number of elements to come together, that the director may find the technical elements a lot more attention-consuming than the acting. So, most of the time I feel my job is to come in with my choices made. If the director wants any adjustments, it seems best if I'm able to do them quickly and smoothly.

There have been times where I do feel that the director takes the time to talk to me about what I'm doing --and I love when that happens-- but it feels like an exception rather than a rule.

I'd like to mention theater here. I think one of the things that a theater director told me that I think is brilliant is the director's job is to guide the actor into what the director wants the actor to do, but to do it in such a way that the actor thinks it was the actor's idea the whole time.

How is preparing for a stage role different to comparing for a screen role?

I think, again, because of the fast turn around in television--one's best tool is oneself. Be as natural and reactive as you would be in that actual situation.

Whereas, in theater, I feel one has time to build a different person entirely.

Why do you love acting?

Thanks for this question. It's been a while since I thought of it. I believe that acting, at it's highest, can put an audience into a character's shoes. In that way, a type of person that an audience member might not know much about, or perhaps even fear or dislike in some way--the audience could get to know this person and become more understanding of this type of person and, as a result, there is a little less ignorance and a little less prejudice in the world.

There are so many ups and downs when working in this industry. Especially for actors; one minute you have a heap of offers and projects, the next you're unemployed and nothing is coming your way. How do you deal with that? Has it gotten easier over the years?

It's funny. I don't think of how I deal with it. I just live my life in the every day and take what life does bring me--whether it's a heap of offers or a free day to go walking on the beach. It hasn't gotten easier. There is a certain level of acceptance... but there are also moments of panic when thinking about money or about making enough as a union actor to qualify for health benefits.

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Whose Screenplay Is It Anyway? How Screenwriters Go Insane

You're seven years old, and you think "I really love laughing, hahahahahaha." You're 11 years old and you really really like Mary-Jane, who lives down by the place near the big tree, and you think "I really really love her and I want to be in love forever yeah it's great." You're sixteen years old and you look up at the sky and you're just amazed by how clear the stars are and how big and beautiful the moon is and you think "Holy marbles! The world is incredible! It's a miracle! I can feel it. Wow. Wow. Wow." And then you laugh hysterically, hahahaha. Not because you're insane, but because you really love laughing.

And then you become a screenwriter. And you write your first script in seven minutes. How you did it, nobody knows. But you did. You wrote a 100 page script in seven minutes, and it's wonderful because it's got soul but it's awful because you've never written a script before.

And then your friend Patrick says "dude, it's way too romantic. Nobody likes that cheesy bullshit," so you take out a bit of the cheese because maybe it is a bit touchy feely. And then you meet a guy who wrote two episodes of that thing on that channel nobody ever watches, and he says, "the joke about the pencils isn't funny. Pencils aren't funny. Lemonade is funny." So you take out the joke about the pencils and replace it with a joke that isn't about pencils.

The thing that is great about your script though is that you captured that really incredible feeling you had that time you and that girl went to that bench by the field near where the hill overlooked the big tall building near your old school, when you were looking up at the big beautiful sky. But Mr Singh who works in the shop near the place where they used to sell like a million different types of envelope says to you "I think you're being a bit silly if you think the sky is magic, there's so much pollution, and films that are about the sky don't really sell unless you have a machine blow up and fall out of it."

You know you're right, deep down, you love going hahahahaha and you love that girl and going to the bench near the thing and you love how amazing the sky is. But then you meet a guy called Zack who worked as an extra on that pretty funny thing that used to be on after that famous show and he also directed one episode of a webisode called "LOL @ Life!" which had at least a viewer, so he knows his stuff and he wants to 'develop' new ideas with you but he says "don't write about the moon because it isn't marketable," and he reminds you that pencils don't put people's asses on seats and what you really need are big guns. You're not sure about the big guns but Zack has lots of weird shit in his hair and he has a nice wristwatch so you figure he must really know his stuff so you say "okay, so you don't want the moon?" and he says "no, fuck the moon, that's bullshit," and then you take out the moon and replace it with a scene where the chick with the big breasts blows up the village with her nipples.

But the film never gets made because your script is really shit and the guy with the gunk in his hair is actually an undercover underachieving understudy in a play called "Chipmunks on Skates," so you stop listening to him and go about your day.. and you start to think again about working on a new screenplay.

You have this idea in your head but you don't have much clarity but you think maybe it's something to do with the moon and the magic of the night and a pretty girl with a smile but there's this voice in you that says "that's not marketable you fucking shitfuck!" and then you meet this guy in a suit who says "if you want funding, then you need to know that we need a script that can be branded towards a person who would wear clothes made out of iPhones and eat food made out of Facebook statuses, so you really need to write something current." You keep trying to write it but it's really fucking terrible and you keep asking yourself, "why can't I write?" and you keep trying to feed the magic into your writing somehow but it. just. isn't. there.

You keep looking and you keep trying and you keep hoping that you'll stop being such a bad writer. And some guy who's a big shot says "we really need a film where a guy in his twenties owns a gun and overcomes obstacles by saving the girl from the cheer-leading thing and then he falls backwards in slow-mo and a black man delivers a line about choices and then a woman gets her breasts out in close-up." You write it and it's exactly what they asked for but they don't make the movie-- and you don't know why and they don't know why and nobody knows why and instead someone makes a sequel to that thing with the Vampires.

This part of you starts jumping up and down and screaming at you --- and it's saying, "write a movie about a girl and a tree and the moon," but there are a thousand voices of everyone you ever met saying, "it's not marketable, it's not brandable, there's no breasts, what are you doing, don't you want to be marketable?"

You take a moment to look at your heroes, you look at the essence of what they did and how they achieved it -- and every sign points to people stepping out and saying "HEY, I AM ME, this is how I SEE THE WORLD!" - and you realize, you need to do that very thing.

And it's your choice and it's your choice and it's your choice. You look at your writing over the last few years and the only time you say hahahaha is when you realize the absurdity of the crazy pointless adventure you've been on. You run around, and you search your home and you realize there's just one thing you need and then it will all come together. You run downstairs, you look under the pad next to the table by the chair; and there it is, exactly what you need: a brand new pencil.

Hahahaha you say to yourself, as you write your new screenplay.

What do you want, Mary? You want the MOON? Just say the word...

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Advice, Instinct & Penguins - Reconnecting with who I am.

“When I get logical, and I don't trust my instincts - that's when I get in trouble.”
-Angelina Jolie

Advice is a dangerous thing. I say this, having spent most of the last year writing this blog, which; by and large, is a place where I give advice. That's kind of the reason I stopped. Advice can be great, and motivational - but also, it can be a huge problem. When you give advice, you are stating your belief systems, you are claiming to know how the world works.

When a successful writer says "you need to be disciplined," a less successful writer is likely to listen. That less successful writer might thrive on chaos and spontaneity. They'll spend the next five years battling that, because they look up to the successful writer. Likewise, a young film director might be about to make a feature film in his house with his friends which could be the next 'Paranormal Activity', but then he reads an article on the internet by a successful producer who says "you're wasting your time if you make a film for less than a million dollars, and nobody wants to see another horror film set in a house." So it doesn't get made.

I really liked Dawson's Creek. Loved it. Still watch it to this day. But there's a big part of me that says "dude, you're lame, stop watching that cheesy shit!" I get annoyed at myself for watching it. Why? The stigma of watching it is based on the notion that it's too cheesy, too soap operatic, too predictable, too touchy feely, not edgy enough. So then I spend months annoyed at myself for watching cheesy bullshit that nobody else relates to; and I keep trying to watch the things people recommend to me, and in the process, get further and further away from the show that resonated with me. Why do I do this? Because of values held by other people.

When I look at me as a writer, and a director; do I want to be influenced by the things that truly resonate with me or do I want to be influenced by the things I've learned to love because filmmaker's, critics and society think they are the right choices? When I look at my biggest influences; Charlie Chaplin, Billy Wilder, Bruce Springsteen and Woody Allen - I see people who were ruthless at following their own instincts and beliefs.

I can do one of two things. I can follow my heart and follow my deeply held interests and passions (after-all, those were the things that got me interested in this line of work), or I can learn what is marketable and what isn't, I can write based on a 22 step procedure I was told about and I can listen to the research that says nobody will want to see my film about a bunch of penguins who take over the Vatican.

In case there's any mystery here, I am going for the first option. I have spent recent times completely and utterly reconnecting with all the things that excite and inspire me. Be they Dawson's Creek, Nora Ephron flicks or Tom Hanks movies from the eighties. What is important to me is to do what feels right, and feels important, to me. Cowering in the corner with my passion for Bruce Springsteen music and my love for films with Jack Lemmon standing around awkwardly and Jimmy Stewart winning a girl over isn't good enough. Those passions shouldn't be hidden or oppressed. Ever.

Advice, if it is useful to you, is great. But I think advice should make you feel warm and supported. If someone says "You will never be cast in a leading role" or "You're more of a sitcom writer than a feature film writer," you should only accept the advice if you believe it, if it speaks to the very essence of who you are and what you believe. And, of course; the same goes for everything I'm saying here. If believing in what I'm saying means you're going to feel conflicted or oppressed or polarized in any way, then my advice is not for you.

The only way I am ever going to be happy is to be creative on my terms. To write what I want to write, and then do everything in my power to make it happen. The more I celebrate my uniqueness, my passion, my influences, and my beliefs, the better I am going to do and the more likely audiences will respond to it. If they can re-boot Spiderman, I can reboot myself; and it's starting today.

What this means for this blog, I don't know. I have a big edge against me spouting off advice on how to write or direct or even how to make a good tea, because it's so subjective. I would hate to harm anyone's creativity or beliefs. So right now, I'm searching for some new paradigm, some new way of being useful and relevant. I am doing this whilst gearing up to direct a feature film later this year; so I am not sure how often I'll be blogging in the near future.

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Kevin Costner On The Animals That Understand You

"I knew what I wanted to be. I was really really happy. I didn't care if I took out trash. I just knew in my psyche, that it needed to be movie trash, it needed to be stage trash, I needed to be close to the business. And I think that's what you have to be, you have to be close, you have to talk with the animals that understand you."

-Kevin Costner

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Screenwriter SCOTT ROSENBERG Interview.

Scott Rosenberg wrote 'BEAUTIFUL GIRLS.' With that alone, I am happy to stop right there and declare that he is one of my favorite screenwriters. But, as it happens, he also penned 'CON AIR,' 'THINGS TO DO IN DENVER WHEN YOU'RE DEAD,' 'GONE IN SIXTY SECONDS,' and many others - as well as creating one of the best TV shows of recent years, 'OCTOBER ROAD.'

I'd like to start by talking about 'Beautiful Girls,' because it's one of my favorite films. I wish there were more films like this. Did you know it was going to be something special when you wrote it?

“BEAUTIFUL GIRLS’ came about because I had been working for months on the script for “CON AIR”. In those days, the studio would make you write a detailed treatment before sending you off to script (it was a way for them to avoid paying a step). Between “THINGS TO DO IN DENVER WHEN YOU’RE DEAD” and “CON AIR”, I was fully submerged in a kind of nihilistic porn: violence, anger, racial epithets, death. I was numb as a statue. And I found myself, back in my hometown outside of Boston, during one of the worst winters ever. I was waiting for Disney to approve “CON AIR”. I had just broken up with my girlfriend of seven years. The snow plows were driving by my window. Many driven by my buddies from high school. When it occurred to me: “there is more quote “action”, going on with my buddies here -with turning 30 and not being able to deal with the women in their lives - than in twenty Jerry Bruckheimer movies. I remember very clearly, saying to my kid brother: “I am going to go into my room and write a script called “BEAUTIFUL GIRLS” but it’s going to be all about guys.” Five days later I emerged with the script. It just poured out. I didn’t think it was special. It was a piece of catharsis. It was entirely written for myself. Which is probably why it resonated with so many people. And, inexplicably, still does to this day...

I think it's the kind of screenplay that everyone tries to write when they begin screenwriting, the script about a bunch of friends in a small town figuring their lives out. But rather than having the complexity and subtlety of 'Beautiful Girls,' they tend to be quite boring and soap operatic -- were you concerned about this when you were writing yours? How confident were you?

Nah. Because I don’t think it was such a common trope then as it is now. There was the gold standard, of course, Barry Levinson’s “DINER”. But I tried never to even think of that one. Because then I would have just been paralyzed. Because that film is nearly perfect. A few years ago, I was skiing in Colorado, and I was in a bar and some snow-boarders in their early 20s came up to me. They had heard I was the dude that wrote “BEAUTIFUL GIRLS”. And they wanted to tell me that their whole group of friends watch the film once every few months. I told them that is so cool. And that MY friends and me used to watch “DINER” once every few months. And the snow-boarders shrugged and asked me: “What’s ‘DINER’?” And I realized that “GIRLS” was for these kids, what “DINER” was for some of my friends. And that was perhaps the coolest thing of all...

The film feels like it's been made by a writer/director - you can really feel a singular voice coming through. What interests me, is that it's really hard to know what is your voice, and what came from Ted Demme. What was your working relationship like with the Director; and what things, for you, did and didn't work out how you wanted in the film?

The journey of that film was insane. Originally, James L. Brooks was going to direct it. Which was kind of like we’d hit the lottery? Huh? James L. Brooks? The living legend? Who never directed a film he didn’t write? How is this possible? And why? I worked with Jim for 5 months on the film. Meeting actors. Hearing them say the words. Refining the script. And then, Jim dropped out. It was rather devastating. I think he just felt, end of the day, that he was a Jewish in his 50s, who’d been rich for a long time, how much commonality did he really have with a bunch of blue collar mooks from Boston? But working with him had been like the screenwriter equivalent of going to Harvard Business School. It was amazing. After he dropped out, we flirted with some other names. And then the idea of Teddy came up. I wasn’t that familiar with his work (he had only done a few films; and worked at MTV), but upon meeting him, one thing was clear: he WAS one of the guys I grew up with. He just had this amazing one-of-the-lads quality about him. And his enthusiasm was infectious. And he loved the script.

Were there disagreements? Sure. There will always be. But most of those came during post. Teddy and I agreed whole heartedly on every piece of casting. On locations. On set design. If we argued it was over some things in the final edit. But nothing terrible. A perfect example of how we worked was the day Teddy came to me and said there should be a sing-a-long a la “THE DEERHUNTER”, in The Johnson Inn. Wouldn’t that be a great way to introduce Uma’s character and show the guys’ special bond. But what song? Teddy was thinking maybe “HAPPY TOGETHER” by The Turtles. I knew, immediately (and this was well before it became a karaoke favorite and Boston Red Sox anthem), that it had to be Neil Diamond. “Sweet Caroline”. Teddy wasn’t so sure. One night, we took the cast to a bar in Minnesota for some after-wrap cocktails. There was a piano player there. I surreptitiously gave him ten bucks and asked him to play “Sweet Caroline”. He did. The place went crazy. Everyone singing along. Including Matt Dillon and Noah Emmerich. But Teddy always said, it was when he saw a waitress, gliding by, holding a tray laden with cocktails, wailing to the song, that he “knew Scotty was right... And that it had to be Neil Diamond..." That was how it was with us. He made a wonderful film. I miss him...

Do you think you would have worked together again? Were you close friends?

Teddy and I were good friends. We had a complicated relationship. Sometimes we were as thick as thieves, and planning on doing our next thing together. Other times, we were at each other's throats. He was the one who first convinced me to do television. We did a pilot based on a novel I wrote, called "GOING TO CALIFORNIA". Sold it to the WB. We shot a pilot but it didn't get picked up. Years later, Showtime bought it. We recast and did 20 episodes. So, you see, Teddy and I were always looking for shit to do together. His passing was great tragedy, as he was really starting to happen; to really come into his own as a filmmaker.

It's amazing how you went from 'Things To Do In Denver When You're Dead' and 'Beautiful Girls' - to working on a giant blockbuster like 'Con Air.' How did you get involved in the project?

“DENVER” was the hot script that year. It was one of those “No One Wants To Make It But Everyone Has To Read It” things. And I got a ton of attention. Disney brought me in and handed me an “L.A. TIMES” article about the real Con Air -a Federal Marshall program that transports prisoners across the country. They wanted me to come up with an idea. But they “didn’t want ‘DIE HARD’ on a plane. Good luck.” So I just noodled on it for a while. Listened to a lot of Lynyrd Skynyrd and Allman Brothers records. And once I happened upon the notion of the guy who had never met his daughter - that his wife had been pregnant when got busted - I saw how I could make this thing work. That sightline was so clean. It allowed me to adorn the thing with the craziest motherfuckers; the most absurd dialogue and set-pieces. Because, when all is said and done, he was just another man trying to find his way back home...

There's a big myth for writers trying to get into the industry; who feel that to work on anything with a big producer or studio, means no creative control and constantly having to incorporate other people's ideas - has this been your experience?

The script is always going to be co-opted. Because with a budget that big, it’s the only thing they can constantly tinker with; it allows everyone to sleep at night, knowing that, somewhere, someone is working on the script. I think you have to do your best work, and hope much of it flies. But you also have to be realistic: “SPIDER-MAN” or “GONE IN 60 SECONDS” or “THE GENERAL’S DAUGHTER” -these are not the sad, sweet personal stories about my ancestors coming over from the Old Country. So I can be mercenary. I have to care. I have to make it deeply meaningful for me, so I can do good work. But I also have to divest myself emotionally. Because chances are good you will be re-written. My motto has always been: "Don’t Fuck With My Small Movies. Do What You Need With The Big..."

With 'Con Air,' you were writing about characters who were murderers, rapists, pedophiles -- is that particularly challenging?

First things first: I have never understood why people thought Buscemi’s character was a pedophile. He was described as a mass murderer who killed a bunch off people up and down the Eastern Seaboard. And that the way he killed made “the Manson Family look like The Partridge Family.” There was never a single mention of children. Somehow, when he has the scene with the little girl, people just jumped to that conclusion; that he was pedophile. It was the strangest thing to me. I was simply ripping off “FRANKENSTEIN” -monster with little girl. Did anyone ever accuse Frankenstein’s monster of being a pedophile? Nope. I think Garland Greene deserves the same respect. Ha-ha.

As far as writing murderers, rapists, etc., I have always believed one has to find the humanity in even the most dreadful of characters. No one - not even Son Of Sam - is without a shred of decency; Ted Bundy had a mother who loved him at one point. If you can find an access point - a way to give make even the most unsympathetic of characters mildly sympathetic in places... Then you will have a fully dimensionalized villain. Or so it seems to me...

I noticed when watching 'Highway' that you also produced it. Did you hire the director yourself?

I did. Along with the execs at New Line. Todd Phillips was originally going to direct it. It was called “A LEONARD COHEN AFTERWORLD” -which is a terrible title, but is a part of the lyric from the Nirvana song “Pennyroyal Tea” (”give me a Leonard Cohen afterworld/So I can sigh eternally... “). This was before Todd was Todd. And he eventually bailed because this movie he had been trying to get set-up finally got a green-light. That was “ROAD TRIP”. Which was rather ironic. Because my film was a road trip picture, too. Albeit a much darker one. Involving drug dealers, mobsters, circus freaks, hookers and the weekend Kurt Cobain killed himself.

After Todd dropped out, and we were looking for his replacement, a short film made by an NYU student came across our desk. It was called “ATOMIC TABASCO”. We were rather knocked out by its balls, its bombast, its confidence. We met with the director, James Cox. And were rather knocked- out by his balls, bombast and confidence. There was something about his manic madness that I thought was perfect for this film. The tone I wanted the movie to have, was sort of the manner in which James Cox lived his life. So we hired him. And we made a pretty cool film. Jared Leto, Jake Gyllenhaal, Selma Blair, John C. McGinley. And, in a show-stopping scene, Jeremy Piven (who replaced Vince Vaughn at the eleventh hour). But the exec at New Line who had championed the film left just after we delivered it. And the head of the studio never liked it. So they re-cut it; replaced all of our dope songs with lesser versions. And sent it straight to DVD. I have actually never seen the new version. And never will. It’s too painful. But I learned a lot making that film. And had a good time doing it...

Are you interested in directing at some point?

I think I would like to very much. I am not sure if I would be any good at it. Have come close a number of times. And for various reasons, it didn’t happen. Having spent a lot of time on many sets, watching many directors, there are some days you say to yourself “God, I could do better than this moron!” and then other days, you think: “wow, this guy is talented. I could never do what he does!” So I go back and forth. The “year of your life” thing kind of freaks me out. Insofar as I could work on so many projects in a year as a writer. But as a director, you are basically eating, drinking, sleeping and fucking that one film for at least an entire year. But we’ll see...

I was re-watching 'Gone In Sixty Seconds' the other day, and during the big car chase at the end, I wondered-- how the hell do you write something like that? How do you make a chase scene or a fight scene exciting? Whenever I try to write them scenes, they read like instruction manuals.

Funny that you ask. I wish I had a copy of my first draft handy (I can find it for you eventually), because that is exactly what I wrote in the stage directions. I wrote something like “look, I ain’t lazy. But chase scenes are like sex scenes - the only thing more boring than reading them is writing them. So I’m not gonna do it. We’ll hire a director and he will make shit happen!” Or something like that. For the final chase - the big one - I actually scripted all of the beats... But not for any of the earlier ones... I, quite literally, wrote, “and now DIRECTOR’S CHASE SCENE #2 begins... “ It actually gained a bit of notoriety.
A lot of people thought it was ballsy of me. It wasn’t. I just had no desire to waste my time. But that movie turned out to be a huge disappointment to me. The original script was very, very cool. It got that amazing cast. And then we hired a director who just wanted to shoot car porn. Another film I have never seen the final cut of...

What is it about not seeing a final cut, would it be that painful? It reminds me of Woody Allen, when he says he's never watched any of his films again, I'm never sure I believe him. I bet he has 'Annie Hall' on DVD..

With some of these films, you sort of grok that they are going to be shit; that they are not going to be what you intended when you first got that tiny spark. Which is why, yeah, I don't buy the Woody Allen thing. 'Cause he has made so many amazing movies. But I have not. So things like "DISTURBING BEHAVIOR" and "KANGAROO JACK" and "GONE IN 60 SECONDS". Yeah. Easier to just not watch them. And remember what they once were. And what they might have been. (mind you, not a one was on its way to being "HANNAH AND HER SISTERS". But still... )

Small, character based dramas, or big action films, which do you prefer writing?

I love it all. I really do. At this moment, I am deciding on what I should write next. I have six ideas I am currently toying with. Three of them are small and entirely character- driven. One is a whacked-out sci-fi horror thing; the other two are hugely commercial, big ideas. So I really am all over the map. What I’m most interested in is that the next one is different in tone, scope and story than the one I wrote just before. That’s all.

Nick Hornby is another writer with a really distinct voice, did you consult with him at all when adapting 'High Fidelity' or did you take the book and go your own way with it?

I didn’t. I wish I had. I am such a fan. But I was working with the director, Mike Newell, who was attached to it at the time. I am sure he met with Nick. But I didn’t. That was a case where I was sent the book in galleys. I had no desire to take on another project (I was way overbooked at the time). But I read it anyhow - because I was a fan of Newell’s (who had directed “FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL”) among other things. And the book just spoke to me. I was, like, who is this Nick Hornby and why is he living in my brain? Because I am a huge music guy; and I have had lots of struggles with girls and commitment and all that stuff. So I took the job. And did several drafts I thought were pretty good. I moved it from London to Boston, of course.

But I don’t think Mike was ever going to really direct it. Because “FOUR WEDDINGS” had been such a huge success. I think he, too, wanted to do something different. Not another romantic comedy. So we both sort of left it at the same time. Then John Cusack and his gang came in. And Stephen Frears. The movie is excellent. But let’s be honest: nearly everything that’s great in the film came from the novel. The novel was just so damn good. I hope to meet Nick someday. We’ve had several near-crosses but it’s never happened. But I continue to read his novels. Always awaiting the next one with delight...

“October Road' was something really special. How did the opportunity arise to make the show?

My friend, Gary Fleder (he directed “THINGS TO DO IN DENVER WHEN YOU’RE DEAD”) was in a meeting with the ABC president, Steve McPherson, when McPherson commented that “BEAUTIFUL GIRLS” was one of his favorite films; why doesn’t someone do a TV version of that? Gary called me and asked me what I thought.

I was coming off of a few years where I had sold lots of scripts, but none had gotten made... And if actors aren’t saying your words, then the process isn’t complete, I don’t care how much dough you’re making. So I said “sure”. I brought in Josh Appelbaum and Andre Nemec, who I had worked with on a short-lived Showtime show I created called “GOING TO CALIFORNIA”, which ran for 20 episodes in 2001, before Showtime was cool. Josh and Andre had been working on “ALIAS” and they were game to create a show with me. We were sort of looking for a way in, an access point, and then Andre said: “why don’t we dramatize what happened to you, Scott, in the wake of ‘BEAUTIFUL GIRLS’?” Because “GIRLS” was based entirely on my buddies from home. And some of them really got their feelings hurt and felt exposed (we are all pals again now; in fact, I am on the train to Boston as I type this, for this is the weekend of our annual ski trip!). We all collectively thought that was a great idea. Changed it from a movie to a novel; added the whole “is he your son is he not your son” and went to town. That was a great experience. I loved that cast. I loved that world. We had a very small but very rabid fan base by the time we went off the air. People still freak out when they find out that was my show. They gush in ways they never gush about any of the other stuff I’ve done...

There's something very dramatic and compelling about someone coming home, and the effect that has on him and the people he originally left behind. We see it again and again in your work - in 'October Road', 'Beautiful Girls' - and even in 'Gone In Sixty Seconds' --- is it coincidental that you've revisited this theme or is it something that fascinates you?

I jut think it’s something that is so utterly universal and relatable. It’s not a clerical error that perhaps the most famous line of dialogue in the history of movies is” “there’s no place like home.” We all come from somewhere. And we are always trying to get pieces of it back; no matter how good or bad it had been. Youth is a state of grace. Even if you were impoverished or abused or infirmed. You were young. You were unformed. You were home. It’s funny because we played with a lot of those themes in “LIFE ON MARS”. I find myself writing these overlong tone poems about the exigencies of “home”. And, yes, all through my work “DENVER”, “GIRLS”, all the TV shows, “GONE”. Hell, even Cameron Poe in “CON AIR” just wanted to get the fuck home.

But I don’t think it’s very unique. It worked for Homer. Why shouldn’t it work for the rest of us?
I can never put my finger on what it is exactly, but when watching your films, I always think of Billy Wilder - is he a big influence on your writing?

Well, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I am sure there are a lot of film and TV critics that would beg to differ with you on that one. Wilder is my all-time favorite. An old girlfriend of mine and I used to have “Billy Wilder Night”, where once a week, we’d watch one of his films, so we were sure to see the entire canon. And it’s rather astonishing that the same guy made “DOUBLE INDEMNITY”, “THE APARTMENT”, “STALAG 13”, “SOME LIKE IT HOT”, “SUNSET BOULEVARD” “THE SEVEN YEAR ITCH”, “THE LOST WEEKEND”, “WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION” and “SABRINA”. I mean, really? Are you kidding me? The range of subject matter; all of it, no matter how hilarious, suffused with a kind of darkness, a skewed morality that was just so bold and compelling. And the dialogue! I mean, the guy was just off the charts. I devoured that Cameron Crowe interview book with Wilder. And it is my second piece of advice I give to neophyte writers (the first being: “just write!”): watch Billy Wilder movies. Watch them all. And try not to be intimidated but rather be inspired...

It disappoints me when perfect shows like 'October Road' get taken off the air. Would you have liked to have taken it a lot further?

Of course, I would have loved that. “LIFE ON MARS”, too. But television is a funny thing. There are so many variables. So many factors. In both cases, we hadn’t begun to scratch the surface of those characters, nor the places we wanted to take them. But the good thing about the creative process is that no character ever truly dies; parts of them are reborn into other characters. In the new show, “HAPPY TOWN”, you’ll see some traces of some O-ROADERs. As well as in the script I am currently writing. It’s like some weird form of Buddhism. The souls of a character is reincarnated long after he is no longer a corporeal being...

Despite the fact that 'October Road' seemed very much like your baby, there were a lot of different writers working on the show -- how do you work with writers on your TV projects?

We have a staff. A writers room. Storylines are generated out of the writers room. Approved by the network and studio. And then a writer goes to script.

But every script goes through my computer. I am in charge of “the top edit”. The “voice pass”, as it is sometimes called. So all of the scripts feel like they are of the same piece. Sometimes I have to rewrite 80% of a writer’s script. Sometimes it’s only 20%. But we have been blessed, in that we have managed to assemble some truly talented, truly splendid writers on all three shows. We really are just hoping for a hit, so we can keep these people coming to our
offices rather than to someone else’s..

What can you tell us about 'Happy Town'?

“Happy Town” came about during the writers strike. We were still working on “OCTOBER ROAD”, but we could read the tea leaves. The was walking the creaky steps of the gallows up to the waiting hangman’s noose. But we so loved the world. The small town aspects. And we thought: what if we did a version of “OCTOBER ROAD” where shit actually HAPPENS? Wouldn’t that be novel? We were also thinking that nobody does scary on TV anymore. And I mean scary but not “CSI” or “CRIMINAL MINDS” forensic porn scary. And not vampires and werewolves and zombie scary either. I mean, just scary. My partners, Josh and Andre, were degenerate “TWIN PEAKS” fans. I was not. But Stephen King’s novel, “’SALEM’S LOT” is, for my money, one of the most perfect horror tales ever written. So you can find much of the “HAPPY TOWN” DNA in those two works. Plus “OCTOBER ROAD”, of course.

It’s a small town spook show, centered on bucolic Haplin, Minnesota, a place that knew darkness years ago - when seven disparate people disappeared, over the course of seven years. Locals called it the work of “The Magic Man” -so named because he “had the ability to make people vanish that bordered on the mystical.. “ Well, by the end of the third episode, he returns. And he has returned at the worst possible time! It is a very cool, very unique piece of television. It stars Geoff Stults, who played Eddie on "OCTOBER ROAD" (as well as other O-ROAD alum Jay “Physical Phil” Paulson and Warren “Big Cat” Christie), and Amy Acker, Sam Neill, Lauren German, Robert Wisdom, Francis Conroy, M.C. Gainey, Steven Weber and Abe Benrubi. A truly wonderful cast. I hope you’ll watch...

Of course! Definitely. What advice can you give to upcoming screenwriters? What is the biggest mistake you see young writers making?

The biggest mistake I see young writers doing is thinking they are ready to be read after writing one or two scripts. Bullshit. You ain't. You are still learning your craft. Learning to crawl. And don't let that story you read in "VARIETY", about the college freshman who sold his first script to Warners for 3 million dollars. Sure, he might have. But God also made Michael Jordan and Eddie Van Halen and Alex Rodriguez. There are always gonna be Talent Freaks. You ain't one of the them. How do I know? Because they are rarer than rare. Keep writing. Always Be Writing. I wrote ten scripts before I got an agent. 14 before one was made. If I look back at those old scripts, sure there were some decent parts. But most of it was crap. How could it not be?

The other mistake made is to try and get a job in show biz while you are paying your dues. Jobs in show biz are for the folks back home. So Ma can say to the ladies in her book club: "Petey is working for Ryan Seacrest!" The problem with working for Ryan Seacrest? It will be a 16 hour day. And you will think about it when you are getting ready for bed. No. Get a job bagging groceries. Or driving a truck. A job that you don't give another brain cell to when you punch the clock at the end of the day. So you can go home and focus on what is truly important at this phase of your life: which is writing.

When a writer is convinced they have a great script, or two; what should they do?

When you think you have a great script - if it really is great - they will find you. The town is starving for great scripts. It sounds awful and pat and overly simplistic: but if you want to succeed as a screenwriter, write a dope script. I am not saying that shitty scripts get made. Of course they do. More times than not. And a good 65 % of working screenwriters should have their laptops revoked. But at some point, they wrote that one. That one that people noticed. A Zen approach is a good one. Don't do a mass mailing introducing yourself to every agent in town. Don't foist your script on the guy at the next table in the diner, who happens to be reading "THE HOLLYWOOD REPORTER". Just know that they will find you. It sounds strange. It's not. L.A. is a city fueled by the frantic frenzy to find the next great script. The key is write it. And then watch them tumble...

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