September 27, 2007

The Inside Scoop on Front-Page News

This blog is allegedly about scriptwriting, not me, but right now the two topics have intersected. In a brazen show of self-promotion, I'd like to announce that my (and co-writer Michael Curtis's) pilot at Disney Channel has been green-lit for 13 episodes. Hooray, question mark!

Here's the news as it appeared on page 1 of the Hollywood Reporter. Page 1 is the front page. There is no page zero.

By Kimberly Nordyke
hr/photos/stylus/10406.jpg

From left: Nick, Kevin and Joe Jonas (Getty Images photo)


After making stars of singer-actors like "Hannah Montana's" Miley Cyrus, Disney Channel has set its sights on a trio of young hyphenates, greenlighting a series, movie and concert special starring recording act the Jonas Brothers.


The teenage siblings -- Kevin, Joe and Nick -- are set to star in a live-action spy comedy titled "J.O.N.A.S." that has just been given a series pickup, targeted to go into production early next year for a 2008 premiere.

The single-camera comedy, from Turtle Rock Prods. and executive producers Michael Curtis and Roger Schulman, stars the brothers as young operatives for the government -- aka Junior Operatives Networking as Spies (J.O.N.A.S.) -- who thwart evil while working undercover as a superstar teen rock band. The number of episodes has yet to be determined for the series, the pilot of which was ordered in May (HR 5/9).

Meanwhile, Disney Channel also has officially greenlighted "Camp Rock" after having been in the works for a few months. The music-filled original movie, which is in production in Toronto, stars the Jonases as members of a leading musical group, Connect 3, who are celebrity guest counselors at a prestigious summer camp for aspiring musicians. "Camp Rock" is directed by Matthew Diamond from a script by Julie Brown, Paul Brown, Regina Hicks and Karen Gist. It premieres in summer 2008.

In addition, the network is set to air a concert special, "Jonas Brothers in Concert," originating from New York's Gramercy Park, at 8 p.m. Oct. 6. The special will feature songs from the group's self-titled sophomore album, released by Walt Disney Co.-owned Hollywood Records, which recently reached No. 5 on the Billboard 200.

All three projects also will air on Disney Channel around the world.

Gary Marsh, Disney Channel Worldwide president of entertainment, said the network is very high on the Jonas Brothers.

"We have become extraordinarily skillful at finding talent and creating stars," he said. "This is an extraordinary opportunity for us to take the talent of the Jonas Brothers that has been proven over the past six months and launch them into the stratosphere across multiple platforms."

Disney Channel does seem to have a magic touch when it comes to making stars. Along with Cyrus, it also has boosted the careers of such young actors as Shia LaBeouf, Hilary Duff, Zac Efron and Raven-Symone.

And the Jonas Brothers already have a following among the tween set. The trio -- who were raised in Wyckoff, N.J., and now live in Los Angeles -- came to the attention of Radio Disney in early 2005 and were added to its playlist in October of that year. Since then, they recorded the theme song to Disney Channel's animated series "American Dragon: Jake Long," and that music video and others have been regularly featured on the network.

The brothers also were showcased in summer 2006 in a concert special from the "Disney Channel Games" at Walt Disney World in Orlando and guest-starred in the record-setting episode of "Hannah Montana" that aired after the premiere of "High School Musical 2" last month.

As for "Camp Rock," Marsh pointed out that music has become a big part of Disney Channel's programming, citing other original movies such as the "High School Musical" and "Cheetah Girls" franchises.

"Music really has become a fundamental building block of the Disney Channel -- it's part of our DNA," he said. " 'Camp Rock' and the Jonas Brothers are a great next step in building that profile."

Next up for the Jonas Brothers is a 54-date arena tour as part of the Hannah Montana & Miley Cyrus: Best of Both Worlds jaunt that kicks off in October.

The brothers are repped by CAA; managers Philip McIntyre, Kevin Jonas and Johnny Wright; and attorneys Rob Cohen and James Adams. Curtis also is repped by CAA; Schulman is repped by Paradigm; both are managed by Jonathan Baruch at Rain Management Group.

September 15, 2007

Do You Commit This Style Sin?

Doesn't that sound deliciously Zen? I'm very proud of that headline. I should probably delete it.

Like "tone," "style" looms important and elusive in scriptwriting. Style can best be described as the judge said of obscenity: I don't know what it is, but I know it when I see it. Many of the most successful screenwriters push style: you recognize their dialog the moment you hear it. David Mamet. Woody Allen. William Goldman. In some instances, if you take the time and trouble, you could even break their styles down to component parts. Use of profanity. Run-on introspective sentences. Scenes of competition pitching the best of the best against the best of the best of the best. How then to achieve the all-important and unique style that is your own?

Avoid it at all costs.

I can't speak officially for Messrs. Mamet, Allen, Goldman, or any other screenwriter but myself; however, I venture to venture that they never once think about the style of their writing. They just write the best stuff they can dream up. Their style, like a baby's eyes turning from blue to brown, emerges all on its own. That's how one knows it's authentic, out of the DNA. "Crafting" or "adopting" a style is like buying colored contact lenses for the kid.

But achieving style is more than just not trying to. You need to actively -- trendy idiots might even say proactively -- fight style. Here's one way. Write a scene as stylishly and stylistically as you can. Think panache! Sophistication! Or: edginess! Crudity! (Or crudites, if you're peckish.) Give it all you've got. Don't settle for ordinary writing, make it extraordinary. And don't stop until you're spent, every beautiful fillip of phrase you can muster glowing on the screen.

Then take all that stuff out. Re-read your prose and whenever your eyes feel like stopping, even for a nanosecond, consider it a blinking purple light signifying that something must be excised. A wonderful turn of phrase? Turn it away. Amazing alliteration? For illiterates only. Prodigious use of "fuck?" Fuck it.

When you're done slicing and dicing, look at what's left. If there's nothing left, then you haven't been writing, you've been Writing: stealing, borrowing and remaining entirely in your head, not stopping once at the heart. But if what's left seems, well, kind of simple, lean and ordinary, unable to be deconstructed any further, then you've got the seed of your style. Because your authentic style must come from your unconscious. If you can spot it, it's bogus. But if it's real, everyone else will spot it and embrace it.

And style is a living thing. It will grow and change as does your writing -- and so will your attempts to muster an artificial style. So be sure to push back your chair every six months or so (assuming you've been writing constantly) and squint at your body of work. Notice any patterns emerging? It's possible that you've been sneakily crafting yet another artificial style in an attempt to be a Writer.

Happens to me all the time. For a while, it was long lists separated by semicolons. I eschewed them, and found myself writing in long lists separated by commas (oh, that's much better, Roger). I've done the sentence fragment thing. The run-on sentence thing. And of course, I've had an ongoing love affair with the clsoing clause set off by a dash -- not that there's anything wrong with that.

They say writing is rewriting, and I want to add to that that writing is unwriting. I'm a believer in Bauhaus prose, because when you think your stuff is as plain as it can get, others will see just how individual it really is. It's not easy deciding which of your words are contrived and which are natural. That's why it takes a long time to become a good writer.

But every once in a while you'll look back at something you've done and see a living phrase you never noticed. You didn't quietly beam with pride when you crafted it; you didn't even know you made it. But now in reflection you see it, and know that it's a rare glimpse into your style.

I remember one of the first David Mamet plays I ever saw. Maybe it was American Buffalo; I'm not sure. But one character said something like, What do you wanna do? And the other said something like, I don't know. We could this. We could do something else.

We could this
.

It wasn't dialog. It was someone alive, talking. It reminded me of so many people with whom I grew up in Brooklyn. And I hope, although I can't be sure, that Mr. Mamet didn't pause before he wrote it and ask himself, "What would be wicked real right here?" He just channeled it, and thereby added one more brick to the wall of his inimitable style.

Of course, he's gotten way over stylized since then. Lose the freakin' muffler, David. It's a hundred degrees in here.


September 12, 2007

A Bit of Back Room Business, If You Please

I'm told by Scriptwritarian Mitch that the RSS feed from this blog has not been working properly of late. I've checked and there have indeed been problems, which are now supposed to have been fixed.

If you do read the blog via feed and have been -- or have not been -- experiencing problems, would you kindly let me know via posting a comment to this entry?

Thank you. I now return you to your regularly scheduled computing.

Screenwriting Secret: Invisible Writing

My writing has seemed invisible countless times, say when I’ve given it to a studio or network to read. It just seems to disappear. But there’s a way to make your writing actually invisible that can help your craft.

This tip applies to pitching or brainstorming, when you know where you want to end up but don't know what road to take. It might be a snippet of dialog you're trying to create, or a "beat sheet" of story points. Most word processors are capable of rendering your text invisible. In Microsoft Word for the Mac, for example, you choose Format | Font | Hidden.

  • Render your text invisible via the appropriate commands, place your fingers on the home keys, focus on your goal, and start typing.
  • Do not stop typing.
  • Do not think (this is the easiest part for me). This is more of a meditative exercise than conventional scribing. You might type for ten seconds; it might go on for a minute.
  • Rather than deciding to stop, let your fingers stop you. They will know when they are sufficiently confused to be unable to continue.
  • Select the text you have written (you might use Edit | Select All since you can't see it) and reformat it to be visible again.
What you'll see is a mess of typographical errors, run-on sentences, fragments and strings of symbols that look like Popeye the Sailor Man cursing a blue streak. And perhaps, within this ore, a few nuggets of gold.

Unlike your text, the psychology behind this exercise is apparent: by short-circuiting your well-practiced and conventional writing process, you may tap into deeper portions of your creative subconscious. Your lobes are relieved of instinctively checking for proper spelling and grammar; your ego is robbed of its compulsion to rewrite a sentence even before you've finished it, lest someone see your terrible, awful work. And so a small voice, unheard in the din of your cerebral mechanism, may have a chance, for a few seconds, to be heard. It can be like having a writing partner in your own cranium.


Nowadays, some word processors permit you to turn already-typed text invisible, but won't let you type new text in the invisible mode. Under these circumstances, try formatting your page so that all text is white, on a white background. This achieves the same result.

Of course, you could just close your eyes while you type. But I don't trust you. You'll peek.

Let me know if you try this, and your results.

September 2, 2007

Hollywood Burnout

I'd like to share a recent exchange on my AllExperts site on a topic I frequently get asked about. So I will.

Questioner: Christina
Category: Writing Plays/Screenwriting
Private: Yes
Subject: Hollywood Burnout?

Question: Hi,

I am a 26 year old recent college grad, psych/English Ohio State.

I am seriously contemplating coming to Los Angeles to pursue a career in the entertainment industry.

My plan: So far I have two connections, I could possibly get a job lined up for me as some form of writing asst, or PA on a reality TV show. And go up and up from there.

Its strange though. Both of my friends (connections) whom are middle aged men,,,seem to be suffering from sever burnout. My one friend says that he is so sick of reality TV that he is going to quit altogether and is thinking about becoming a life coach! He says the shows are lame and so is the pay, yet he is willing to put up with it. This does not encourage me.

My other friend says that its hard to succeed unless you are Jewish and a Gay man! Whoa, thats harsh. They both sound really bitter and I don't want to end up like them. I don't want to burnout.

Well I guess my question to you is a personal one. Is it worth it? I know its up to me to decide that for myself. But seeing as you have all this experience I thought I would ask you.

If you could do it again would you, or would you choose some other profession that is more practical?

Thanks for reading my question.

Thanks!

Answer: Oh, Christina. Your question touches the heart and soul of every full-time Hollywood screenwriter. (I'm going to assume you want to be a screenwriter as well, although you didn't say.)

Speaking for myself, it's the question I ask every day, never expecting to hear a definitive answer until after I pass to the next world and get to talk to that big film producer in the sky. You see, "show business" is two very different words. The "show" part really is magic. When I complete a scene that feels just right, when I watch actors performing my words better than I could have imagined, and of course if I receive an accolade for my efforts, I feel like the luckiest man on Earth. Those moments are what all the show-business musicals are about (see "Singin' in the Rain").

Then there's the "business." I've had a couple of different careers, and without doubt the business of the entertainment industry is the most development-arrested, ass-backward, infuriating, soul-wrenching business I know. Everything about it is NOT appealing. Big companies cheat and come out on top. Writers are treated like potato chips -- break one, there's always another, and they're all just as good. I once spent a year and a half unable to find a job. I thought my life was over. And I'm a success!

As far as your friend's comments about being gay and Jewish are concerned, that's a little bitterness talking. Every business has its prejudices, and goodness knows entertainment is no exception. But if anything I feel your friend is out of date. Being Jewish is no special favor, and hasn't been for years. If anything, I would say that being female is more of a help. Being gay? I don't think that helps one way or another. Maybe in the fashion business or Broadway, but I'm no expert in either of those. The bottom line is, whatever product sells will get its creator success. Show business isn't about being gay or Jewish or male or female -- it's about MONEY, like every other business in our capitalist world.

The easy answer for me, but true nonetheless, is that this is a decision you're going to have to make for yourself. I will say that show business is much tougher and much more debilitating than its image allows. It's hard to complain to the average citizen when you make more money than him, get to meet stars and see your name onscreen. But the unvarnished truth is, none of those things are much fun. If the work isn't fun, if you aren't driven to do it, then all that other crap is just that. The bottom line is, if I tell you to stay away, and you get into the business anyway, then you know, like me, you really have no choice -- you have to be in it.

You may want to read William Goldman's books "Adventures in the Screen Trade" and "Which Lie Did I Tell?" They're fun, informative and he's a great writer.

Hope this helps.

Roger

September 1, 2007

Get an Extra Brain for Four Bucks

The phrase "the paperless office" has been so thoroughly exploded, it's impossible to think of it not immediately following the words "the myth of." But "the myth of the paperless office" is itself a myth. Certainly, for many years any decrease in paper consumption thanks to computers, scanners and other digitizing doohickeys has been outweighed by document-making machines: photocopiers, printers and faxes. As we grow more digital, we seem to grow more paperful.

The paperless office is neither truth nor myth. It's a goal, and a worthy one, I think, and one we are closing in on. The federal Forest Service says that, while Americans are using more paper than ever, this is largely due to the increase in population. On a per-person basis, paper consumption is on the wane.

I'm sure there are ecological advantages to the paperless office, but I'm a believer because I work more efficiently in a workspace that isn't a blizzard of Boise Cascade. When my office was a skyline of paper piles, almost every question began with, "Now where is that...?" And the answer was usually, "Dammit." Nowadays, I know the answer: it's on my hard drive.

Tools to search that drive are getting better by the day. I can't count the number of times I've felt a flush of satisfaction as I virtually reach into my digital archive and retrieve a two-year-old receipt for my accountant, or the last draft of last year's screenplay for my manager. In the olden days, I might have found that draft, but I could never be certain it really was the last draft. The digital equivalent, however, carries with it a Spotlight comment: "LAST DRAFT, WITH STARRED CHANGES, AS SENT TO STUDIO." For one shining moment, the "i's" and "t's" in my lifetime are well dotted and crossed.

Yet there are times that paper is indispensable (and will always be). Paper seems fragile, but actually is practically immutable. It catches fire easily, but it extinguishes just as easily. It requires not even the smallest of batteries to remember what is written on it. It is more rugged than a hardened military laptop. It's astoundingly cheap (check out the tag on a ream at Staples sometime). It's customizable (we in the paper business call this "ripping" and "folding.") And -- an advantage often overlooked -- it's tremendously high-contrast. What's easier to read than black ink on white paper? No matter how many drafts of a script I've written onscreen, I never send it to the Powers that Pay unless I've read it once on foolscap.

Paper was originally thought of as a permanent record, while digital information was seen as fleeting. After the UNIVAC finished spinning its magnetic hunches on how to best blow up the Ruskies, backups were made on punch cards and 16-pound stock. I propose that in the Information Age (due to expire in two years, by the way, when it will be replaced by the Age of Celebrity-Related Information), the opposite is true. Although electronic archives are more fragile than paper, they multiply like the Andromeda Strain. I may lose my hard drive. My external back-up drive might spin out of its aluminum case and lodge itself in the wall like a ninja star, and the data on my second computer may likewise go blooey. But odds are I'll still have the data that rests on the digital slack over at Amazon S3 (a low-cost archive service, and something of a miracle). Paper, on the other hand, I lose, or more accurately, can't find.

So I use bits of bytes for permanent records, and bits of paper for instantaneous and temporary recording of data where electronic devices would be impractical. On my nightstand, for example. As a writer, it really is true that you must have available at all times a way of putting down your thoughts, so if you don't have something next to your bed for this, find something and put it there now. I'll wait.

Personally, I use a Retro 51 turquoise Elite Traveler. (Photo from Retro 51)



My wife gifted me with this soft leather folder containing a steel pen and pad. Twisting the pen top to expose the point is like dialing up the volume on an old tube-receiver. It's a pleasure to use, but there are countless options, from the hoity-toity Moleskine to the pedestrian Mead top-spiral. Whatever the rank and serial number, this is a job for paper.

The other place I recommend you keep paper and pen is on your person. You're a writer. You simply can't be caught without the tools of your craft. If you use a PDA or smartphone, that's great, but they crash, run out of juice, fall and smash into two or more pieces. You need a backup. I recommend the PicoPad. (Photo from X-Treme Geek)


This smile-inducing invention is a thin pad of Post-It notes in a tough parchment folder with a pen that amounts to a truncated BIC refill with a tag glued to it. It's comfortable to write with for about four seconds. But it's slippable into, believe it or not, a credit card slot in your wallet. You'll never be without backup again.

The biggest kick about the PicoPad is that it achieves the goal many personal electronics designers have coveted: you'll actually forget you have it with you until you need it. And then, you'll grin that your life is not yet totally paper-free.

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