New projects

I can now happily draw a line under my first manuscript. It is edited, double spaced and wending its way to the BBC writersroom as we speak. They receive around 10,000 scripts every year, which is not surprising as they are one of the few companies who offer this kind of reading service. They read the first ten pages of every script, rejecting most at this stage. Of those that they read all the way through they will go on to offer feedback on most. At this stage I think feedback is the best I can hope for, but even that would be gratefully received. Well, obviously a personal phonecall begging me to write for them would be the best I could hope for, but let’s be realistic here. It should at least give me an idea as to whether this is something I’m good at, or if I’m barking up the wrong tree entirely.

Now it’s time to start a new project, this time focussing on a stage play. I’d love to get something commissioned, and with all the independent theatres in London this should be a lesser challenge than getting a job script writing for the BBC! But after being focussed on one script for a while I now feel a little lost. Here’s what I should be getting on with:

1) Working on new play script You Can Never Go Home.

2) Asham Award short story, due 30th September on the theme ‘Ghost or Gothic’ – not really my specialist genre, but will see what I can do.

3) Read How Many Miles to Basra, a BBC radio 3 play by Colin Teevan.

4) Read Story by Robert McKee, apparently the Big Daddy of screenwriting books.

5) Research and contact HBO. After my work placement for the BBC last October I am interested in doing a placement with an American TV production company, for the experience (and the CV points!) and as HBO are pretty much my dream company I thought I’d give it a go. Any company that produces Angels in America, The Sopranos, The Wire and Sex and the City would be the numero uno to work with as far as script writing and editing is concerned. Plus a lot is talked about the differences between the UK and US scriptwriting methods, so would be interesting at this stage to compare the two.

6) Adapting TV script submitted to the BBC for the stage.

Best get on it!

Feedback 2

Again this came through the Feedback Exchange, and I read a script by this writer called Care and completely ‘got’ it. He writes fantastic little moments, and nice jokey dialogue, so I feel that was a good indicator that he would be able to provide thoughtful feedback on my writing.

His feedback is below:

"For TV, this script seems to have a pattern of 'too much information'. There's very little cheesy exposition - nobody saying 'Oh, do you remember when our mum died of cancer one year ago today?' etc - but still there could be some tightening throughout. There's a really overused, often repeated tip that Tony Jordan talks about a lot. He gives an example of two characters, they've just been to the pub, and there's a line of dialogue that says 'Alright mate, well, I had a good time tonight, see you later.' His tip is to take away words so that the line still makes sense, but gets shorter every time. You quickly get to 'See you later' and then, simply, 'Later.' which is what the line should probably be. Remove everything superflous and just get it said. Even if we look at your very first line alone, I think it works better if you just take away the first word - 'Andrea'. Opening with a character's name said aloud, to me, reads like 'Dear Audience, This Character Is Named Andrea' - which is fine, and no audience member would care, but I think so much of a great script is confidence.

That advice is particularly tailored to TV. Perhaps by way of dialogue that gets a bit long at times, I don't feel that there's enough visual going on. You use parentheticals wisely for the most part, but on some occasions they indicate a character is (laughing) or (teasing) when, I don't know if you realise, but your dialogue is strong enough to make that pretty clear!

Another dialogue issue, now and then, is following a character's logic. In scene 3, Tom says 'she left her credit card for our joint account and I found another, A VISA, but we both have seperate accounts too. I can't be sure. I found her passport with mine in the dresser'. That's a long line, especially given that it doesn't have a lot of dramatic content, it's more about the doling out of information. Two options, with things like these - either trim it back, don't track his entire thought pattern, just say 'She left the card for the joint account. I don't know, we have our own accounts too.' OR break up those three bits of information (joint account card is here, so is a random Visa, they have seperate accounts) by making it three seperate lines, prompted by questions from the police.

Those were the initial issues with dialogue, which you asked me to pay particular attention to. Moving on, though, there's so much great stuff in this script. Your scene structure is consistently excellent. Nothing is wasted - every scene advances the plot and every scene moves towards a point where it reaches a climax. You have a very good talent for coming into a scene at the right time and getting out as soon as the scene is done. That helped the whole thing have momentum, which is, for me, one of the hardest things to do.

Scene seven in particular, has a lot of great dialogue. Just goes to show that all the things I've said above, you probably know already. In scene seven we have unique and unusual turns of phrase - Andrea's 'sexy time', the wife 'wailing like a banshee', the 'slag tastefully daubed on the front door'. Because of that, this is where I first really got a sense of these two characters and what they're like - particularly Andrea's growling guard-dog business which sums up her function in the story. I think what happens here is, for whatever reason, your confidence goes through the roof. In the beginnings, there was something very uncertain about the way you'd written the script - it wasn't quite ballsy enough, didn't reflect a personality or 'voice' (the vaguest word in the world, sorry!). The things I mentioned above, to do with overwriting dialogue, flow of logic, making things too wordy - I really get the sense that this is because you don't realise that when you do short, punchy lines, they're completely understandable, completely true-to-life but also completely engaging.

Overall, despite my focus on dialogue, I should say something about the plot and the whole notion of the story. It was great, if a little odd. I say odd because what plays for the most part like a whodunnit is a crime that wasn't committed by any of the main characters - instead, our focus is on Emily, and her relationship with Tom. That's where my investment was throughout and it paid of really well with the idea that whatever physical torture Elise was experiencing, the mental torture of hearing Tom with Emily must've been even worse. That's a great idea and it worked very well."

Overall the feedback has been really positive, and definitely gave me a bit more confidence in my dialogue writing. I was aware of that Tony Jordan advice, though didn’t know it was attributed to him, but having it pointed out meant I was even more brutal with my culling. Again, there’s the comment about ‘not enough visual’ which is clearly something I need to work on. As I read more television scripts moving forward this is something I’ll be looking out for. Hopefully I started making use of visual more as the script progresses, with a scene featuring Tom alone in his flat:

Int. TOM, alone in his house again looking worse than we’ve seen him before. No longer dressed so smartly and hair ruffled and clearly isn’t sleeping well. He’s pacing the lounge and listening to loud classical music. He picks up his phone from a side table and pauses the music with a remote control, then starts flicking through numbers on his phone until he gets to the name Elise and pauses, looking at the lettering. Then he dials the number and we hear it go straight to voicemail.

VOICEMAIL – ELISE
Hi, you have reached the voicemail of Elise Stuart. I’m afraid I’m not available to take your call at the moment but leave me a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.

TOM hangs up the phone and dials again, just to hear the voicemail, but partway through he hears a noise that sounds like it’s coming from outside. He takes the phone away from his ear and darts over to the window, looking out into the night but sees nothing. Flicks the music back on and sinks onto one of the sofas, hands over his face. He is a man under pressure and about to come undone. He sits up and picks up his phone again, pauses the music with his remote control, and calls another number on his mobile.

TOM (leaving a message)
Emily, hi, it’s me. Just wondering what you’re doing and if you wanted to meet up. I could do with some company and would really like to see you. Come over if you’re free.

TOM hangs up the phone and as he does so hears another barely audible thud. He’s now very alert and twitchy, goes over to the back door, unlocking and opening it.

TOM
Hello? Anybody there? (Pauses and listens again, maybe hearing a rustle but it’s difficult to tell) Elise…Elly? Are you there? (Gradually getting more desperate) Elise…ELISE

Shouts her name loudly into the night and waits, but no response apart from silence. A moment later we hear the faint noise of a baby crying – not loudly, but audible. Tom looks upwards, as if it’s coming from the neighbours. He pauses, the crying stops, and from somewhere else the very faint beat of music starts. Tom shuts the back door and locks it, leaving the key where it was in the back of the lock.

After reading this feedback I also spent a lot of time reading aloud, to work out which lines felt long and stilted. The line in scene three the feedback refers to went from:

She left her credit card for our joint account and I found another, a VISA, but we both have separate accounts too. I can’t be sure. I found her passport with mine in the dresser.

To:

Her card for our joint account. We have separate accounts too. And I found her passport with mine in the dresser. (He pushes these documents across the table to Jen, who picks them up to examine)

See? More of the visual! These are small changes, but hopefully make a massive difference to both the flow and the confidence of the piece.

I’m relieved, and a little surprised, to hear that the structure was fairly sound even in the earlier stages. This was a major concern for me – you can tweak dialogue, but if there’s problems with the basic foundations I wouldn’t know exactly how to go about fixing them. Similarly the plot, which I agree is a little odd, seems to get the thumbs up from both feedbackers too.

I am concerned that the first few scenes (sadly the first few pages the BBC will read and use to decide whether to continue) aren’t that strong. I tried to change them, but found it really hard – it felt like pulling out Jenga blocks from the bottom row, and that it could cause the rest of the scenes to come crashing in around me. But for now I’ll leave you with scene seven, which received the best feedback of them all. Enjoy!

Int. Andrea and Emily’s flat. ANDREA is in her pyjamas watching the television and snacking. EMILY enters, slamming the door.

EMILY
Worst night EVER.

ANDREA
Not the sexy time you were hoping for? (Holds out her bag of sweets)

EMILY
He’s being all weird with me. Not even a little light petting. Nothing. (Takes a sweet from the bag and eats it despondently)

ANDREA
Maybe he’s a bit distracted. His wife just left him. What’s the story on that, anyway?

EMILY
All very strange. She literally just left. Poof (motions with her hand) – in a puff of smoke. As far as I can gather no note, nothing. She just walked out.

ANDREA
He doesn’t know why?

EMILY
She never said. Actually, I’m a bit worried she found out about me. That would be awful, if some crazed wife turns up on our doorstep in the middle of the night wailing like a banshee ready to tear out my extensions with her French manicure.

ANDREA
Don’t worry; you’ve got your guard dog (she pulls a fierce face, growling.)

EMILY
(Growls back) Yeah, that’ll scare her away. She’ll be peeing her pants as she loads her revolver and guns me down when I’m taking out the rubbish.

ANDREA
Hopefully the worst you can expect is to get your tyres let down, or ‘Slag’ tastefully daubed on our front door. (Offers more sweets)

EMILY
Thanks, mate. (Takes another)

ANDREA
Seriously though, why would she leave and not say anything? If my husband cheated on me with some tart-

EMILY
(Interjects) -Hey!

ANDREA
No offence.

EMILY
Hmm…some taken.

ANDREA
But I’d seriously kick off. I wouldn’t leave – I’d change the locks while he was at work, or besmirch his good name all over the internet. Minimal damage would be cutting the flies out of all his suits.

EMILY
You’re kind of a handful though. Normal people don’t behave like that.

ANDREA
Normal people behave worse – I’ve seen Jeremy Kyle.

EMILY
She’s hardly Jeremy Kyle material.

ANDREA
What’s she like?

EMILY
Pretty. I used to be jealous of her, but Tom says she’s gotten sooo boring. Hot but boring. And she’s got nearly ten years on me.

ANDREA
And they never had kids?

EMILY
(Shakes her head) Tom never says why though. It’s funny - they have this perfect little life, only it’s not perfect. The police must be wracking their brains over why she disappeared.

ANDREA
He’s called the police? Do they know about you and Tom?

EMILY
Pretty sure they don’t. Tom’s quite a secretive person.

ANDREA
He must have to be. What with all the affairs.

EMILY
It’s not all the affairs. Just one.

ANDREA
You sure?

EMILY
Yes, I’m sure. I’d know if there was someone else.

ANDREA
That’s probably what his wife says. Unless it turns out she does know. (Pauses, looks up from her sweets and turns to Emily) You don’t think…

EMILY
What?

ANDREA
Ok. Don’t go mad at me, I’m just saying, but you don’t think he’s (slices across her neck with her index finger and pulls a face) y’know…

EMILY
(Laughs) Oh god, of course not! You are silly, Andrea.

ANDREA
Fine, but I want you to be careful.

EMILY
Tom’s not going to kill me.

ANDREA
I mean be careful of the whole thing. It’s getting a bit serious now. Police are involved and her name will be on the missing persons register. I don’t know anything about Tom, but I can guarantee he won’t have your feelings front of his mind.

EMILY
(Hugs her playfully)
Don’t worry about me, little one, I’m a big girl now and I can take care of myself.

ANDREA
(Ruffles Emily’s hair) I think we both know that’s not true.

Feedback 1

This feedback came from a writer on the Feedback Exchange who sent me his script Angels. It was a great script, and a bit sci-fi which isn’t my usual genre but definitely testament to the fact that if a script is strong it will appeal anyway.

He wrote to me:

"Thanks again for sending me your play (sorry couldn't resist giving it a title). I thought this is a clever story with a great "twist" ending. I enjoyed the relationship between Emily and Andrea and the dynamics between Tom and Emily.

The dialogue is for the most part very good and I enjoyed the witty parts. Some of the dialogue is a little too "on the nose" in some areas, but I think this can be improved by re-reading sections and realizing that some information can be conveyed in a more subtle way (through gestures). Take a look at these small changes on what you wrote:

JEN
So? First impressions?

SIMON
Hard to call. Bit of a Hooray Henry, but I don’t think he’s done anything.

JEN
I don’t know. He seemed very suspicious of us. You think she’s....

SIMON
Left him? (nods) Happens all the time. Wife finds someone else, or realises he’s banging her best mate or something. She’ll be back once she realises she left their joint account credit card behind.

OK, now thinkig outside the box: maybe it's my twisted mind, but with the two cops Jen and Simon I think you have an opportunity to create an environment where the audience thinks, but is not quite sure, that possibly Jen and Simon are having an affair! Of course you never disclose whether this is true or not, but this could add some irony to the story and put a different complexion on the investigation as much of the dialogue between Jen and Simon would have a double entendre.

Let me know if you're interested in a co-writer to work on this part of the story! I'd love to see this on the stage! I think you should try and get this produced. Here in Toronto we have a great indie scene and a lot of indie plays and it would be easy to get your material on the stage."


I’m really pleased with the positive feedback about the relationships between the main characters. That’s what this story is supposed to be about; although it centres around a missing woman it’s actually about a train of events that force a lie out of control. The script is designed to make us think about the hypocrisy of tragedy – similar to the death of someone like Jade Goody, who was mocked when alive, but dead is now venerated. Tom treats his marriage with little respect, but once Elise goes missing is keen to act as the concerned husband. He isn’t supposed to be a villain, just someone flawed who gets complacent with his lifestyle.

It took ages to find a name in the end - see previous post! - and I used Him and Her (the suggested title on the feedback) as a working title for a while. I like it, but feel it doesn’t quite encapsulate the contents. If anything it should be called Him and her. And her. Actually I quite like that too! But will stick with Senses for now. What’s in a name, eh?

I agree that sometimes, because of how used I am to writing prose, I vocalise a character’s thought process in a way which isn’t wholly realistic. The differences suggested in this scene are small, and in some cases I thought almost too small. This is what the scene originally read as:

JEN
So what do you think? First impressions?

SIMON
Ah, I don’t know. Hard to call. Bit of a Hooray Henry, but I don’t think he’s done anything.

JEN
I don’t know. He seemed very suspicious of us. Do you think she’s left him?

SIMON
Most likely. Happens all the time. Wife finds someone else, or realises he’s banging her best mate or something. She’ll be back once she realises she left their joint account credit card behind.

I understand what the feedback is suggesting, and agree it’s something that needs work. I cut out the excess words, which is something I had to do a lot of. Realised I have some sort of writing twitch and often start lines with “Oh”, “So” or “Well”.

And I absolutely love that the feedback suggests a relationship between Jen and Simon, the police officers. This is great news, because there was supposed to be the implication that there is something between them. Hopefully the suggestion means this is subtle and subconscious for the audience. I don’t think we need to know any personal details about Jen and Simon, though hopefully their characters do come through but just with no biographical details. As a result of this suggestion I wrote one tiny moment into the very last scene:

From a distance we see SIMON reach down and pick up Jen’s hand. There is no close up on this, and neither one acknowledges the moment.

They just leave the flat and close the door firmly behind them.

This is the pay-off for the eagle-eyed audience member if they’ve suspected something’s going on. I thought it was too cheesy to clearly signpost that working on this case has taught them both something, but hopefully that comes through in a less Disney-esque way.

Senses.

So, turns out my writer's block lasted about (*checks date of last blog entry*) oh, just over twenty days. Work has been busy, so I've been skipping my usual Wednesdays off with alarming regularity. My boss is going to get a shock when he realises I'm saving the time up for days in lieu. However had my first Wednesday off for 3 weeks this week, and finally finished my first script! It now even has a title - 'Senses'. Which came about due to the thread running through the script of see no evil (Elise, able to hear everything going on but see only the walls surrounding her), hear no evil (Jake, confined to a wheelchair watching the action unfold from his window). There's also a lot of very instinctive behaviour, with the way PC Jen Bayliss works out what happened - as well as observing everything around her and noting it down.

I finished my script using feedback from initial drafts. I read the first few scenes to my writing group, and though some of their feedback was incredibly helpful they criticised some of the shorthand I used, which was designed to be colloquial and mimic every day speech. This conflicting advice confused me a bit, however once I received my two reviews from the Feedback Exchange - in particular one who references a famous bit of Tony Jordon advice - I felt much more secure about my original choices. In fact I even made the language a little more casual, if anything. I imagine it's because writing dialogue is very different to prose, which most of my writing group focus on, and actually I feel as though I'm more suited to the script. It really lets my imagination run away with itself. I will publish the two bits of feedback, and my responses to them, in later posts.

The fallacy of writer's block

What a crappy, crappy day. I don’t really believe in writer’s block - just force yourself to write SOMETHING. However if it does exist, today I have it. Maybe I’m tired after finishing work at eleven last night, it could be that I’m distracted by moving house, or perhaps it’s just that the planets aren’t in alignment; Mars isn’t parallel with Venus in my house of Doing Some Fucking Work. Or something. Either way the result is the same: my page is empty. I’ve done some reading, searching for 90s novels for adaptation, and then have written one lonesome paragraph for the Guardian short story competition.

It reached thirty-seven degrees, the weathermen said. It was hot everywhere. Indoors was stale and thick with black dots of flies, driving neighbours onto patchy front lawns. They draped themselves languidly around the timed spurts and dribbles of hosepipes for relief. Outdoors the sun throbbed down and sat fat and heavy over the grass. Buses were the worst. PVC stuck to bare legs, leaving red grooves on bare thighs and partially-clad bottoms as they peeled away from seats with a sticky slurp.

And I think it sucks. Maybe I shout write off this afternoon and watch some telly. It’s about the only thing I will have bloody written.

Martin Amis' Money

I don’t know what to say about the BBC’s recent adaptation of Money, apart from that it was brilliant. But as well as being refreshing and engaging to watch it also goes to show I need to re-think what I see as being unsuitable for TV adaptation. I assume a plot needs to be more or less linear, and with a traditional tie up of the story. I see amazing novels that take focus on one a short period of introspection, such as Hanif Kureshi’s Intimacy or On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan, as ones that would be boring an lifeless on screen.

Sometimes suspending your disbelief is easier in text, where imagination can run wild and you aren’t so critical of the visible pulleys and levers that mobilise a plot. Recently I’ve been looking into texts that would be suitable for on screen adaptation and disregarded fanciful tales by Angela Carter or Jeanette Winterson (bar the autobiographical Oranges are not the Only Fruit). Maybe I need to reconsider: what makes a text a text unsuitable for screen adaptation?

Amis apparently criticised early drafts of the Money script, suggesting they stick more closely to the original dialogue. A little arrogant, you might think, but if the source material is strong perhaps there’s no reason to meander too far from it.

Money was written by Tom Butterworth and Chris Hurford, both of whom wrote for Ashes to Ashes and Hustle.