Just Keep Breathing

You can feel it. You really can. The freedom to breathe again. Whenever something horrific happens, I often feel like I suck in a deep breath and don't exhale until there is some kind of ending, resolution, or long enough passage of time that I am forced to exhale.

The afternoon breeze today is not so much the clouds giving way to sunny skies as it is the collective sigh of relief from thousands of people who have been hoping and praying that the bloodthirsty Chimera prowling about Kaufman County would not be unstoppable, untouchable, and anonymous forever.

Today, Kaufman County is exhaling. It's not over yet. But we can breathe.

The terror inflicted on officials, their families, and the Kaufman County community cannot be overstated, especially for those of us with close ties to law enforcement. In the beginning, each theory about who would murder ADA Mark Hasse and District Attorney Mike McLelland and his wife, Cynthia, had its impediments to probability. Could it be a cartel-type revenge for interfering with meth trafficking? Could it have been that disgraced Justice of the Peace who lost the bench last year? Maybe it's that gang of white supremacists who swore bloody repercussions for thirty-something multi-jurisdictional convictions last fall?

The gargantuan horde of investigators was tight lipped and smartly so. The FBI, ATF, US Marshals and Texas Rangers descended on Kaufman County like a swarm of rootin' tootin' locusts and never have I been so glad to see so many suits, badges, and ten gallon hats.

Each theory was ridiculously thin and fantastic but plausible in its own way. But there was no arguing that people were being murdered. Who would have this kind of training and equipment? Who would know where Mark Hasse parked every day and know the best and fastest way to escape downtown Kaufman? Who would be able to put in motion the strategic murders of the McLellands on the weekend that they were expecting Easter company and happened to have put away the guns kept in every single room of the house? And who would be prepared to show up on short notice? Like maybe when the thunder started clapping loud enough to disguise gunshots?

Yeah. We all knew somebody was either close or was watching closely.

Judges, prosecutors, and important elected officials were under tight guard. But the rest of us spoke about the murders privately and in hushed voices. Who was watching? What was the motive? Who might follow us home if they knew we were a county receptionist, court clerk, or had a uniformed officer or public official living in a house that was not being guarded?  There was no limit to where our fearful imaginations went.

And, as expected, online comments erupted on posted news articles. Some comments were vicious and said that Kaufman got what it deserves. Some were sympathetic and hopeful. Some were political and made it about gun control. Some said the investigation was going nowhere. I'm guessing that is because the Feds didn't friend them on Facebook, create a Twitter account, or put evidence pics on Instagram.

Shortly after ADA Mark Hasse's death, a friend of mine told me that DA Mike McLelland was certain former Justice of the Peace Eric Williams was behind Hasse's murder. Williams was the guy convicted of stealing computers from the courthouse and using county library funds to supply his own private law office. My friend was close to the McLellands and suggested I review the Eric Williams trial so that I, too, would know what the former Justice of the Peace was capable of.

I was skeptical. I thought my friend was running on raw emotion because she was too close to the situation but I did what she asked. I reviewed the trial. And yeah, Williams had a history of being a mouthy bully but murder? Tough to believe. Even after the McLellands were murdered, I had doubts that Eric Williams would kill three people over two years probation and a $5000 fine. But when you dig a little deeper, you realize he lost a lot more than that. He lost the bench, his reputation, his law practice, his income, his health benefits and retirement benefits and probably his military commission. And, he knows weapons. He has the training. He knows Kaufman County.

Then one afternoon, I saw a video excerpt of Eric Williams being interviewed at his front door. There he was. Blue polo. Giant smirk. Extending his condolences to the McLelland family. Wait. What? A smirk while he was extending condolences? Then it was blah blah blah bringing justice for this incredibly egregious act and he's STILL smirking.

A chill - - a physical chill - - darted up my spine. That cliche exists for a reason, people!

REPORTER: Anything you'd like to tell the community or somebody who might think, you know, this Eric Williams guy, you know, has an ax to grind and this Eric Williams guy might have done this? What would you say?

ERIC WILLIAMS: I would say ask someone who actually knows me from the past and they'll tell you that that's not me.

Smirk gone. It's a full blown smile.  It had only been FOUR days since the McLellands were found dead and he was smiling while he talked about it. And then I knew. Yeah. He did it. Maybe not alone. But he did it. And, if I knew, I knew the swarm of local, state, and federal investigators knew. They were taking their time amid rumors of white supremacist boogieman, they were tracking down all other leads, and they were arresting anyone and everyone who made a terrorist threat but they knew. They just had a job to do and a method of doing it.

And now, even though formal capitol murder charges still haven't been filed, Eric Williams is all over the news and the evidence is piling up against him so everyone else knows, too. And, the online comments? No change. The story may have changed but the comments from the public are the same.

Meanwhile, the world is still mad and violent. Two explosions just went off at the Boston Marathon finish line and a lot of people are down. I can barely conceive something so horrible and violent. And yet, I can.

Deep breath . . .

Eye of the Beholder's Camera

My Canon is low end beginner equipment so my pics are not hyperbole worthy. But, for me, chasing wildlife with a camera and taking fun pics around the house relieves some of life's stresses better than bicycling, smelling flowers, yoga, meditation or any kind of chi balancing exercise. Photography is also a nice break from writing when you've been at it several hours. So, if you need a break and don't have a camera, herewith I share with you some of my favorite photos. They are not photo-shopped or color-altered or edited in any way. Most of them aren't even cropped. These are raw images the way your eyes would see them if you were a digital camera.

Why So Many Faith-Based Movies Don't Work

This is a post I've long needed to write and long delayed writing because there's just no way to do it without offending somebody or even alienating people. But there are issues related to writing Biblical, family-oriented and spiritually uplifting films that need to be said. So, here we go.

First, let me make it clear that I am a NOT attacking Christianity or Christians. Christianity is not the topic here. Christian films, faith-friendly films, family-oriented films and spiritually uplifting films are the topic. And, just so we're clear on this, I will remind anyone who doesn't remember that I am, myself, a Christian - a fallible and imperfect person doing my best to live out what I believe.

Okay, so why oh why oh why are so many faith-related films so stinking bad?

• Nobody else gets it - Let's start with this. Most faith films are made for other church-going people. Biggest mistake. Christians make them. Christians watch them. Christians like them. They use situations, themes, and even church-y jargon that are unfamiliar to an audience that doesn't attend church. That makes the non-church-going audience outsiders looking in. If people cannot relate to a film or empathize with its characters, the film disaffects them. 
• Too much message and not enough art. Films are artistic expressions. But a lot of faith films are all message and very little art. Victor Hugo's book which has been adapted a gazillion times for stage and film, Les Miserables, is a story of redemption and atonement and a lot of other positive messages. Lots of good stuff going on in there. But, it's also artistic. It's visual. It's poetic. And no, it's not overtly a faith film but can anyone doubt the Christian charity that changed John Valjean from a bitter, resentful and selfish man into an unselfish lover of humanity? This story is a fine example of a message revealed through artistic expression, not in an on-the-nose sermon or in-your-face kind of way.
• Funding low expectations. Everyone is looking for money and let's face it, faith films are not usually strong contenders. One reason is that they have an automatic handicap as they must overcome a history of and expectation of low quality. Even funding platforms like Kickstarter can do more harm than good if the pitch does not demonstrate a skill and knowledge that will make investors want to participate. Done poorly, it could perpetuate the expectation that great aunt-so-in-so will get a lead role since she once played Lady Macbeth 40 years ago. .
• People want to be entertained, not preached to. We've seen some great message films in recent years that attracted large audiences. Facing the Giants met the expectations of its target audience and crossed over into mainstream audiences. The opposite is true with the The Blind Side which was made as a mainstream film that attracted Christian audiences. Both were football stories. Both were successful. But, the real common denominator here is that the films were entertaining and got their point across without being sanctimonious. 
• Weak writing. Faith films are guilty of some of the worst writing I've ever seen. Not all, but many of them are littered with cliches, poor dialogue, lack of structure, and characters with no dimension. Regardless of the genre of the film, that's disaster. Okay, maybe porn is the exception. But you get the point. Being a preacher does not make you a screenwriter unless you're a preacher who actually IS a screenwriter. The very romantic film, The Vow, was based on the experiences and memoirs of a Christian couple who, in their book, very clearly demonstrate their Christian faith and values but the screenplay was written by people who knew how to take something designed to be read and transform it into something designed to be viewed. Again, it goes back to the art thing. Storytelling is an art. Screenwriting is a craft.
• Theme - Many faith films try to say everything there possibly is to say about something in the ninety minutes they hold the audience captive. They've got multiple themes competing for the alpha dog role. No workie. Like any other film, faith films need a theme, a direction, a focus. Is there any doubt whatsoever what the theme of Crash was? It was a very strong message film and that message won it an Oscar for Best Picture in 2005.
• Unrealistic View of the World - Sometimes, I think faith filmmakers believe they are sacrificing beliefs or selling out or watering down their message if the film includes anything less than G rated material with some Bible verses and a few prayers thrown in. By the end of the movie, everybody repents and lives happily ever after. In the real world, there is ugliness. There is violence. There is conflict. There is sin. The Bible doesn't pretend it's not there. Why should we? I was not a fan of the film Joyful Noise. I believe it nailed the entertainment value but compromised its message so much that it subsequently lost its identity in order to get butts in seats. What was it trying to say exactly? The theme was butchered by the comedy. Doesn't have to be that way. But I give this film credit for entertaining the audience. And, I also give them credit for showing some real life. I, too, on more than one occasion, have wanted to throw hot dinner rolls at my choir director but I was not thrilled with how bitter and petty and selfish the real life ultimately made people of faith look.

All filmmakers must find ways to entertain, earn back the cost of making the film, and still express themselves thematically and artistically. Regardless of the film genre, the goals are the same. What I'm saying here is that a faith film is still a film. It still needs all the elements of strong filmmaking to make it a strong film.  The spiritually uplifting value of the film doesn't change the fact that it's still a film and that's what people want to see.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

If you don't get that title, don't worry about it. You're young and you won't get my other references in this post either. You probably ought to just move along or get a pencil and be prepared to write down the stuff you'll need to Google.

So here's the break-up. Sort of. It's with Dexter Morgan. Oh yeah. I'm genuinely concerned divorce is on the horizon.

My affair with the Showtime series, Dexter, began when friends kept telling me it was some of the strongest writing on television. I was eventually forced to succumb to peer pressure and experience this phenomenon for myself just so I could participate in the myriad of conversations about theme and character complexities and sub-plots and sub-sub plots and sub-sub-sub plots.

For six seasons, I have been hooked -- hanging on every episode and watching each one several times to make sure I don't miss anything. Yup. A hopeless Dexter-holic. That show was the television writing love of my life. I thought it was flawless. Even when I found a flaw and had one of my lovers' spats with the show, that flaw was explained in a later episode and I was forced to kiss and make up out of sheer awe.

Our relationship was perfect.

But it was too good to last. With the show's final two seasons ahead of us, the romance is over. I'm now stuck in a loveless marriage with this show -- with Dexter. I watch now because I must, not because I want to. I am bound to this show because of unanswered questions and possibilities that I cannot risk missing. But the thrill is gone

WHY??? 

I want to be in love again!

Maybe my fellow viewers aren't there with me but it feels kind of like when Mulder and Scully became a couple on The X-Files and that sexual tension was over. I was over, too. Same think happened on Mork and Mindy, Moonlighting, Boy Meets World, and an abundance of other shows where the chemistry just petered out for me.

Welp. Back to Dexter. What happened here was not sexual tension released when the principals became a couple, but tension that was released when the principals were no longer facing each other from opposite sides of a cavernous gap of a secret. I won't explain the secret (no spoilers here) but if you watch the show you know which wall was torn down. That conflict, once resolved, left me without an ever-present conflict on the back burner, simmering, waiting to erupt and keeping me fearful, excited, and expectant at all times.

Or, there's another possibility. Maybe the show has run its course as all shows eventually do. Maybe I'm burned out the same way you get burned out on a favorite song you've heard one too many times. It's sad when your heart no longer flutters at the sound of the opening instrumentals. 

Journey - Don't Stop Believin'. 

I rest my case.

So, what's the solution here? The writing on Dexter is still solid but instead of the giant claw gripping my chest week after week, year after year, I'm being swatted at by a bunch of little claws. They're thrashing aimlessly at me hoping they'll land one good slap. 

Yeah, "breaking up is hard to do" so not much choice here but to fall back on that favorite song that says "don't stop believin', hold on to that feelin'" and then hope against hope that Dexter and I kiss and make up on Episode 8.

Re-post - That Would Never Happen

A teacher recently emailed me a request to re-post this article so it would be easier for her students to find. Enjoy. But know this. I'm not qualified to teach writing. I'm just a know-it-all full-of-herself busy-body wannabe with a lot to say. Good luck, class.
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JULY 11, 2007

We've all done this. We're watching a film or reading a screenplay, rockin' happily along in our la-la land, when "No way! That would never happen!" We're brutally yanked out of story land because our brain refuses to accept some fractured piece of logic the film tried to feed us.

Welcome to the land of broken magic.

Often, in the course of reviewing screenplays and critiquing films, reviewers comment about how a situation was too much of a suspension of reality to work for them or that it simply could never happen at all. Suspending reality is a good thing. That's what we do in screenwriting. Suspending it beyond recognition is something else. The trick is to to create an orderly and logical suspension of reality that can be followed and understood. That's, I suppose, what separates the masters from the apprentice writers.

In storytelling, reality is a product of the author's pen, not the reader's existence. One of my complaints about online peer review forums is that while writers certainly have a burden to create a reality that works in the imagination of the reader, too many of these reviewers, I think, are subjecting stories to litmus tests based on their own environments. That's not to say that there's no merit in arguing that something would never happen. But the argument has to be based in the story world, not in the reader's world.

That would never happen moments, for me, fall into three categories: legitimate screwups, spoofs, and misinterpretations.

LEGITIMATE SCREWUPS - These are genuinely messed up moments where somebody blew it and the magic was lost. In Swimfan, a male arresting police officer gets in the back seat of a squad car with a handcuffed female prisoner about to be transported. That would never happen. Sorry. It just doesn't. Officers don't ride in the back seat with dangerous criminals and they certainly don't ride with females. They call in their beginning and ending mileages when they transport women. Departure and arrival times are then recorded so if they're accused of something inappropriate, a time line can be established. Oh, and as for prisoners being cuffed in the front? Yeah, that happens when cuffing is a formality or the officer is really stupid.

SPOOFS AND COMEDIC BEATS - These moments aren't supposed to really happen. They're just there to make us laugh but some people have no sense of humor and take them entirely too literally. The result is a that would never happen moment. Of course, that would never happen! That's what makes it funny! Or, not if it the timing is off or it's poorly written.

MISINTERPRETATIONS - These moments are the ones that actually would happen in another time or place or culture or religion but maybe the filmmaker didn't do his job well enough to convey this to the audience. Or, maybe the reader or viewer has such a narrow outlook on the world that he wouldn't find the magic no matter how well the filmmaker did his job. But if the majority doesn't get it, the problem is probably not with the recipient.

SCREW-UPS, SPOOFS, MISINTERPRETATIONS, So, how do we keep our readers and viewers from doing that annoying Homer Simpson "DOH!" thingie when they look at our work? For you sophisticated non-Simpsons viewers (Mom), that "DOH!" is like the "Wow, I could have had a V-8" forehead thump but from a beer bellied bald guy who would only have a V-8 if he confused it with a teeny tiny Duff beer can. But to answer the question -- there is one back there some place -- I have a few self imposed rules.

The Roller Coaster Rule - Reality is organized chaos. Roller coasters look like a looping, twisting, mess but every turn, climb, and drop has been carefully designed and engineered. Whatever reality we create in our story worlds has to be planned, purposeful, and organized even if it looks like chaos and feels like chaos to passengers along for the ride.

The Pluto Rule - Reality isn't for Indian givers. Don't establish a reality and then yank it away (unless that's the story itself). There are still a few questions left unanswered and a place or two left to explore in this universe. But the boundaries of the unknown are shrinking with every book published and every film released. Whatever I create, readers and viewers will probably still accept regardless of how fantastic it may be but they have little patience for situations where it's obvious the writer didn't establish a cause and effect that's logical within itself. Once a story contradicts itself, even commonplace facts lose credibility among the suspect ones.

Huh? What did she just say?

Okay, try this. I've never been in outer space. I've been accused of it, but alas, no. However, for as long as I can remember, nine planets have orbited the sun. Nine. I accepted this because there was scientific proof. My teachers said so. My text books said so. Plus, I made a mobile out of Styrofoam balls and tempera paint so it had to be true. If you had told me two years ago that one day in my lifetime, there would only be eight planets orbiting the sun, I'd have said that would never happen because Pluto isn't just going to disappear or get blown to bits by a meteor. But it happened. There are only eight planets now. Pluto has been voted off the island. Reality as I once knew it has been yanked away from me and now all astronomy is suspect in my mind. They're Indian givers. They can't take that away from me. I will ALWAYS think of Pluto as a planet. Always. Pluto has to be a planet. Come on. We named a beloved Disney character after it. It's a planet -- the people's planet.

I digress.

The point is - don't do that to your viewer mid-movie. Don't establish a reality in your story and then contradict it or erase it. Or, if you MUST for artistic reasons, then make sure you're a genius and can craft the story so that your reader/viewer doesn't cling to the original reality the way I cling to Pluto.

I've mentioned before that one of the most annoying suspensions of reality in film for me is the "disturbance of nature" theme in Failure to Launch. The film sets up a certain romantic comedy kind of reality. We get comfortable in it and settle in for a light hearted Nora Ephon-esque romantic story. Suddenly, we're jerked into various Chevy Chase-ish skits where animals attack the main character. In this case, it's because he's is a freak of nature still living at home and it just doesn't work with the reality already set forth in the film. If this was Caddyshack, it would work. If this was Mr. Deeds, it would work. But the reality established by Failure to Launch doesn't support angry chipmunks.

The Equator Rule - Reality is because I said so. My pen is the final answer. How much inaccurate information did we all learn about dinosaurs from Jurassic Park? I'm sure more than one paleontologist said "that would never happen" during that film but does that make it a flawed film? Or, does that make it a film that established a reality that viewers could feel engaged in even if it took liberties with prehistoric animal behavior? The important thing about Jurassic Park is that most viewers didn't sit there thinking "that would never happen". They were too busy marveling, screaming, laughing, and enjoying the ride in an open jeep while experiencing the terror of being pursued by a T-Rex.

If my story establishes that the temperature is twenty degrees below zero at the equator and the abominable snowman lives there, then that's the reality of the story. It's as much the reality of that story as a talking droid in Star Wars or a hobbit living in middle earth in Lord of the Rings.

Somebody mentioned on this blog that the wedding scene during Pirates of the Caribbean At World's End was too much of a suspension of reality to accept. I found that odd considering the myriad of outlandish characters and inconceivable events taking place in the film. We've got dead people in boats, ghosts floating under water, barnacley and shell-headed fish people, a titanic squid, an undead monkey, a live heart beating in a chest, a tentacle-faced guy walking around with a gaping hole in his chest, a sea goddess who turns into a hundred thousand crabs, and a pirate licking the brain he just removed from his own skull but it's a wedding amid a swordfight that bugs ya?

Still, most men I've asked said they didn't like the wedding part in this film. The reality established in this film wasn't stretched or suspended for a swordfight wedding on a ship in a spinning vortex. I think the problem with these guys is the REALITY of marriage. Period. A wedding is still a wedding and men in the audience don't want the cold, hard reality of marriage to momentarily wreck the adventure. They aren't annoyed because that would never happen. They're annoyed because they know darned good and well it could.

The Aunt Lizzie Rule - Reality isn't stagnant. It changes with time and culture and continents. My Aunt Lizzie cleaned house in a dress and apron every day. She got out of bed an hour before my uncle to put her make-up on so he wouldn't see her without it. Even when she was in the hospital dying of Cancer, she begged my cousin to help her with her face and hair before my uncle arrived to visit. If I was writing a devoted immigrant housewife from Austria, my Aunt Lizzie would be it. A modern 2007 woman wouldn't do any of those things but Aunt Lizzie's characteristics would work in a spoof, a period piece, or a 2007 story if my character is old and set in her ways, daft, senile, caught in a time warp or suffering from Alzheimer's.

Events that happened twenty, thirty, or fifty years ago may not happen today but they work in stories if set in the proper time and context. Too many writers put today's behavior, statutes, standards, and environments in their period pieces and vice-versa and then wonder why people say that would never happen. They might even point to my equator rule and say if they write it that way, it must be so. True. But that doesn't mean it's logical or that it will work. Remember the roller coaster rule.

My high school journalism teacher, Mrs. Hooper, who went by Hoop because it was more newsroomy than "Mrs. Hooper" and less masculine than "Boss" or "Chief", took me aside one day for what I assumed would be her customary "go get 'em, Tiger" speech before a writing competition. She pointed out a young honor student from Highland Park High School who had transferred from Austin and said he was a brilliant mind by all accounts, the son of a former press secretary to Lyndon B. Johnson himself. A press secretary's son! Oh, my gosh! She was surely about to warn me that he was my toughest competition. Nope. She told me not to talk to him or make him angry in any way. He was a killer.

No way. That would never happen! I was in competition with a killer? It was all very hush hush. The teachers weren't allowed to talk about it. He was a minor. But they were terrified of him so the teachers secretly talked about it anyway.

Hardly two and a half years had passed since John Christian had walked into a Murchison Junior High School English classroom and shot his teacher three times with his father's .22-caliber rifle in front of 30 students. He had been only thirteen at the time. Now here he was, barely sixteen, and his slate was technically clean even though he had supposedly been found schizophrenic and suicidal and even though a judge (Hume Coker) had ordered him to a Dallas psychiatric hospital until he was 18 years old.

Whether it was privilege or family ties or his age or his father's connections, I don't know. Nor do I have all the facts. But John Christian appears to have spent a short time at Timberlawn Psychiatric Hospital and then lived under the foster care of a Dallas physician while he finished public high school and went on to graduate with a law degree from the University of Texas.

Can you even BEGIN to imagine a child today strolling into school and killing his teacher and then going on to graduate from a public school as if nothing had happened? That would never happen today but I was there. I sat in a desk three feet away from him as if he was just any other student because he WAS just any other student even after killing Wilbur (Rod) Grayson, Jr., a 29 year old first year teacher, in front of his entire class.

If I wrote a character in a 1981 story who had been a teacher killer and for whatever reason managed to get back in public schools and graduate, who is going to read my screenplay and NOT say that would never happen? The cruel reality of our daily existence with recurring violence in schools will certainly affect the way anyone receives a story like that one.

So, if people are going to draw conclusions based on their own lives anyway, is there really anything we can do?

Reality is organized chaos
Reality isn't for Indian givers
Reality is because I said so
Reality isn't stagnant

Okay, okay already, so I'm not McKee. But the reality of story reality is that even with our best effort, there's a limit to what we can do to prevent the that would never happen moments. No amount of engineering prevents roller coasters from breaking down, Pluto really isn't a planet anymore and charming aunts who once vacuumed in checkered dresses will eventually lose their battles with Cancer.

Unless somebody finds a cure.

That may never happen.

But it doesn't stop us from making the effort.

You Cliche, I Cliche, We all Cliche

It's no secret among my family and friends that "bingo" said in a film will draw forth all manner of grunts and teeth grinding sounds from my side of the sofa. I often respond the same way to any version of "I just don't know you anymore", "we've got company" or "you just don't get it, do you?". Think I'm over-analyzing? Being difficult? Fine. Watch this.

And this....

And let's do this one just because.

I'm not saying that there is no place for a cliche or two in writing. Humans speak in cliches. We relate to cliches. In some way, cliches may even evoke an empathetic response. But a cautionary note: just like our favorite song becomes dull after 500 listens, sometimes (let's end this on a cliche, shall we?) enough is enough.

May I Steal That?

Plagiarism is always the biggest thing in Hollywood. Clint Eastwood 

Sometimes, I am able to overlook certain minor thefts as newly coined phrases or colloquialisms or common cliches that have made their way into American jargon. But when plagiarism is so blatant that it jumps off the screen at me, I am left wondering how do they get away with it?

I could tell you which writer's rhythms I am imitating. It's not exactly plagiarism. It's falling in love with good language and trying to imitate it. Charles Kurwalt

Huh? Okay but what if it's nearly word for word?

If you steal from one author, it's plagiarism. If you steal from many, it's research. Wilson Mizner

Oh, okay, so if you steal a line from, let's say, a film with multiple screenwriters credited, then it's research?  I don't think so. I really, really don't think so. Shame on you, "Once Upon a Time". Shame on you.

A "Pen"ny for His Thoughts

Worst blog title EVER so I just broke rule number eleven on the list that I am begging you to read. Go right now and read "Pen's 10 Secrets to Writing Success" by Pen Densham, screenwriter and producer of all kinds of ridiculously awesome awesomeness. Seriously. Go read it now. While I wait, I'll listen to this:

This is the overture that made me fall in love Michael Kamen (because until Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, all I knew of his music was Die Hard and Lethal Weapon) and introduced me to Pen Densham. Say what you will about Kevin Costner's performance, everything else in this film was and still is, to me, utter perfection. I doubt many film intellectuals agree with me but they don't really count, do they? The wallet of the viewer speaks louder than the voice of the critic and twenty-one years later, the son who made me take him to see Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves six times in the theater, frequently asks if "something vexes thee?" If a kid quotes your film for twenty-one years, you've probably made an impact.

So read Pen Densham's list (because I know you didn't go do it when I told you to) and consider buying his new book, Riding the Alligator; Strategies for a Career in Screenplay Writing. The man knows a thing or two about story crafting. There is a link at http://www.ridingthealligator.com/ that allows you to download a free chapter. I bought the book on my eReader.

Now, even though Pen Densham's writing and producing credits amount to a lot more than this one film, merely discussing him makes me want to go right this minute and watch Alan Rickman cancel the kitchen scraps for lepers and orphans and call of Christmas.

And They Will Know What We Can Do!

Battle speeches. They have fascinated me for years. Breaking down all my favorites and exploring what each battle speech accomplishes for film would fill a book. I love them so.

Much greatness missing from this mash-up because, really, who can get them all? One absent speech that speaks the universal language of the underdog is Meatballs. "It just doesn't matter! It just doesn't matter!" Regardless, this clip makes you FEEL what battle speeches are about. For me, the primary point of the battle speech is to make sure the viewer is in on the plight, is climbing that mountain with you, and is invested in the outcome. Sure, it reveals character and advances the story into high gear but it also puts your viewer in the front seat and makes them want their own hands on that steering wheel.

This is your time!

Seize the day!

Never surrender!

Victory or death!

That's the Chicago way!

Who's with me!

What Are The Odds?

The Nicholl has tallied the entries and we now know that a whopping 467 more entries were submitted this year than last.  Now, my math is not very good but is that not a 6.93 percent increase? That's huge.

Let's do more math.

There are 7197 entries. What are the odds of advancing to the quarterfinals? Assuming the exact number of screenplays advance to the quarterfinals as last year (351) , that would give you a 4.8 percent chance of advancing out of the 7197 screenplays entered.

But wait. That 4.8 percent is not really accurate -- it can't be -- because with regard to odds, the playing field is not level. Great storytelling has better odds of floating to the top than good or average storytelling. Duh. Good writing has less of a chance than great writing and screenplays that are poorly crafted all around won't float at all. Unfortunately, neither will a lot of other screenplays. Last year 4554 screenplays sank to the bottom.

So what are the odds, really?

Well, regardless what I do with the numbers, my entry is still ONE out of 7197.

My, Nicholl, how you've grown!

Screenwriting Bucket List

The floodgates are closed. The Nicholl application deadline is now a thing of the past and I am curious how many entries there are. Since I"m sure it is a ridiculously high number in the 7000-ish range, I have long since given up any hope of winning the thing. I would, however, like to advance before I die. It's at the top of my screenwriting bucket list, a list that is rather short and contains goals that are unlikely in my real world. But in my sometimes delusional and often contrived reality, I would like to ---

• Advance in the Nicholl at least once.
• Attend a big Hollywood premier and sit in the audience.
• Watch an epic beast of a film get shot.
• Hear one of my favorite screenwriters say about my work, "what a great story".

If I reach those goals, I have a secondary list.

• See my own film get made.

If I reach THAT goal, I do have yet another list.

• Witness a great actor begging on his hands and knees to portray my character.
• Author a screenplay that gets caught up in a bidding war.
• Receive a phone call from Hans Zimmer or James Horner saying he just finished my score.

Once I'm dead, there is still one more list.

• Be remembered by my children as somebody who left a positive footprint on this earth. 

You know what? I think my last goal may actually be the only one that really matters. After all, we only have one life, one earth, and two feet. But yeah, I'm one of those 7000-ish. I don't really believe in luck but best of luck anyway to all my fellow screenwriting buddies who entered!

Nerdist Writers Panel

Have you discovered this, yet? Nerdist Writers Panel is hosted by Chris Hartwick and offers up podcasts with professional writers. Translation = they know more than us.

The most recent addition to the page is Podcast #36 recorded on March 25, 2012 with Bill Lawrence (creator, Scrubs and Cougar Town), Ken Levine (Mash, Cheers, Wings, Fraser, The Simpsons), and Richard Hatem (Grimm, Secret Circle).

You can also get tickets to attend live podcasts. July 20th is in Houston and July 21st in Dallas. Either one looks good to me!

What Your Characters Want

You're safe. No Spice Girls references ahead.

Instead of feeling like I had found a golden ticket when I ran across this gem at Script about creating characters that actors will want to play, a writing fog lifted and I realized that this was something I already knew, something I had heard before, and something that shines a harsh light on the wrinkles in my writing complexion.

I hate wrinkles.

The Script article challenges writers to know their characters beyond the adjectives we use to describe them and suggests that characteristics do not define character because characters are, themselves, an action verb. While the analogy doesn't work for me (adjectives describe nouns, not verbs), the point being made does. Characters are not a handful of descriptions.  Those are characteristics. Who characters are is demonstrated by what they want more than anything --- at that particular moment.

In this Wordplay column, Situation-Based Writing, Terry Rossio explains it this way, "Circumstances come from the world and impose onto characters from the outside, so to speak. Character wants come from inside the characters and push out at the world." He also says that once you know a character's "want", the situation exists. Be sure you read the entire column because he first discusses creating situations and how situation relates to character by being (1) immediate - somebody wants something or will be forced to want something right now and (2) imperative - somebody wants something badly.

Unknown Screenwriter once advised me to know the basic wants of each character before I ever put my fingers on the keyboard so their behavior in their circumstances will be consistent and logical, regardless of the situation. See what he did there? He, too, tied situation to character.

Our screenplays should reveal character by the characters' pursuits of what they want. In this way, there is no need to ever create a scene for the sole purpose of establishing character. Furthermore, in every single scene, somebody should want something.

So I ask you --  do you know in every scene what every character wants?

Reading through my Nicholl submission (just a few more days before the deadline), I am not only looking for typographical errors but I am also checking each scene to see if I've made it clear to the audience what my characters want. I know what my characters want but will a reader?

I hate wrinkles.

Destiny's Merry Pranks

Weirdest spring ever.

In "All About Eve", Margo Channing refers to running out of gas as one of destiny's merry pranks. She has no idea that the reason she's missing a curtain call is because her friend drained the gas tank to teach her a lesson in humility. My little town has suffered a bizarre series of misfortunes and every time I receive another blow of bad news, that line is the one I hear and Margo Channing's image, swaddled in her fur and puffing on a cigarette, is the one I see.

Yup, my little town has been the butt of many of destiny's merry little pranks.

What's that you say? Mrs. Cunningham crashed her Buick into the Piggly Wiggly and landed in the deli? One of destiny's merry pranks.

I only wish the blows had been that funny. Oh, and that we had a Piggly Wiggly since neither my Brookshires or Walmart carries fresh spinach. Plus, it's fun to say Piggly Wiggly.

Say it with me.

Piggly Wiggly.

Piggly Wiggly.

Piggly Wiggly.

Now, wasn't that fun? No? Well, you didn't say out loud, did you?

Okay, actually the first gigantic prank played on my town WAS kind of funny. A pipe broke in the ceiling at the high school and flooded the building for hours and hours and hours before it was noticed. The school sat in three feet of water and the district incurred millions of dollars in building and equipment damage. That part wasn't funny but the videos of the high school seniors on their second spring break are genius -- music videos, message videos, art projects, photo journals -- loads of fun. These kids made great use of their free time while other grades had to attend classes in the gymnasium and makeshift classrooms because it was the week of STAAR (State of Texas Assessments of Academic Readiness) tests. 

Next prank, a tornado. Not just ONE tornado but TWO. An FE3 tornado that wiped out multitudes of homes, hit the OTHER high school and took out an elementary school (I think the school district has a target on its back), and its baby brother tornado that simultaneously hit our downtown area. Seriously. Two tornadoes at the same time. One small town. Ouch.

The next pranks? Too painful to even call pranks. They were tragedies. Tragedy after tragedy after tragedy. A motorcycle accident. A four wheeler accident. A teenage suicide. People we know. People we loved. People who mattered to the community. Loss of life in the most horrible ways.

I know. Loss of life happens. Accidents happen. Crime happens. Tornadoes happen. (but in Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire, hurricanes hardly ever happen) This is the world we live in. But I don't like it.

Perhaps one of the things that makes writing so attractive to writers is that we have absolute control over destiny's merry pranks. We are the creators and the manipulators of our own universes and destiny plays no merry pranks lest we author them. Fate has no power over us. Karma is our slave.

It's therapeutic, don't you think?

As for destiny's merry pranks played on my little town, I blame myself. I should never have started watching "Murder, She Wrote" on Netflex streaming video.