Charlie Kaufman interview

I read this in The Guardian today and had to post for posterity. It's an extract from his talk at the BFI, which I couldn't attend but would have liked to. I love writers talking about writing. (See? Told you I wouldn't quit thinking about it!)

I wrote Being John Malkovich while I was waiting for [the next sitcom] hiring season. My idea was that I would write a script and use it to get work. I had this idea that someone finds a portal into someone's head, and I had another idea that somebody has a story about someone having an affair with a co-worker. And neither one was going anywhere, so I just decided to combine them.

It got a really positive response. I started to get a little known. People would read it and tell me how funny it was, invite me for meetings, tell me nobody would ever make the movie. I had maybe 15 meetings like that, so I wasn't really expecting it to get made. Then it got to Spike Jonze, and he was in a position to get a movie made. I didn't really expect it to be anything. I don't think Spike did either. I remember it going to the Venice film festival, which was the first exposure it had. I wasn't invited, but they went: Spike and Cameron Diaz and Catherine Keener. I just got a phone call saying that it was this big thing, and then all these articles got written about it. It was exciting.

Storytelling is inherently dangerous. Consider a traumatic event in your life. Think about how you experienced it. Now think about how you told it to someone a year later. Now think about how you told it for the hundredth time. It's not the same thing. Most people think perspective is a good thing: you can figure out characters arcs, you can apply a moral, you can tell it with understanding and context. But this perspective is a misrepresentation: it's a reconstruction with meaning, and as such bears little resemblance to the event.

The other thing that happens is adjustment. You find out which part of the story works, which part to embellish, which to jettison. You fashion it. Your goal is to be entertaining. This is true for a story told at a dinner party, and it's true for stories told through movies. Don't let anyone tell you what a story is, what it needs to include. As an experiment, write a non-story. It will have a chance of being different.

I'll tell you this little story. There's something inherently cinematic about it. I run in my neighbourhood, and one day I ran past this guy running in the other direction: an older guy, a big hulky guy. He was struggling, huffing and puffing. I was going down a slight hill and he was coming up. So he passes me and he says: "Well, sure, it's all downhill that way." I loved that joke. We made a connection. So I had it in my head that this is a cool guy, and he's my friend now.

A few weeks later, I'm passing him again, and I'm thinking: "There's the guy that's cool." As we pass each other, he says: "Well, sure, it's all downhill that way." So I think: "Oh, OK. He's got a repertoire. I'm not that special. He's probably said it to other people, maybe he doesn't remember me ... but OK." I laughed, but this time my laugh was a little forced.

Then I pass him another time, and he says it again. And this time he's going downhill and I'm going uphill, so it doesn't even make sense. And I started to feel pain about this, because I'm embarrassed for him and I think maybe there's something wrong with him. And then it just keeps happening. I probably heard it seven or eight more times. I started to avoid him.

I like the idea that the story changes over time even though nothing has changed on the outside. What's changed is all in my head and has to do with a realisation on my character's part. And the story can only be told in a particular form. It can't be told in a painting. The point is: it's very important that what you do is specific to the medium in which you're doing it, and that you utilise what is specific about that medium to do the work. And if you can't think about why it should be done this way, then it doesn't need to be done.

Orange and Grazia writer's evening

In recent months, as you can probably tell from my heady mix of lack-lustre and barely there blog posts, I have fallen out of love with writing. There. I said it. When writing is good it’s amazing – getting excited over characters, striking gold with a lightning bolt of inspiration, and the lovely finished product filled with sweat and tears. But trying to make a living from the written word, whether it’s researching, editing or wiping the arse of the director general of the BBC it can be soul destroying. For legal reasons I’d like to point out the latter role does not exist (not since the cuts, anyway) but you get the gist. Writing is a hobby for so many people, and trying to turn it into a job only to be told over and over ‘no room at the inn’ or simply ‘you’re not good enough’ can make you forget why you don’t need to get paid to get satisfaction from what you create.

Last night I attended the Orange and Grazia sponsored writer’s evening at the Southbank Centre, London. Novelist Kate Mosse (who also founded the Orange prize for fiction) hosted a panel that included writer’s Sadie Jones (The Outcasts and Small Wars), Jean Kwok (Girl in Translation) and literary agent Claire Alexander. The panel were all encouraging, self-depracating and made for an enjoyable evening. Although much of their advice for wannabe writers was the usual: be patient, read like it’s going out of fashion, prepare for rejections but don’t give up, it is always inspiring to listen to people talk passionately about something they and you enjoy. A few nuggets stood out, and I’m beginning to understand more about the industry:

-When sending a manuscript to an agent always do a little research to find the name of someone to send it to. The personal touch can go a long way.
-When trying to choose an agent or a publisher read the author’s acknowledgements inside books you love. This will give you an idea of who is appropriate to submit your work to. If the same names are appearing again and again that should tell you something.
-Write a good letter to agents to go with your manuscript. Aim for something that stands out but doesn’t make you seem batty (my thought is that something like coloured paper might work. Try and link it with the manuscript you’re sending).
-In your letter you can include any details of a blog you keep, or your twitter/ facebook information. This can show you know how to self-promote using new media and social networking and thus potentially have a read-made audience.
-Saleability of an author has to be taken into account (although this never comes before the standard of the script) so if your personal story is something that resonates with the text don’t be afraid to include it.
-Claire Alexander claims she can tell if a writer is bad in less than a page. Bad dialogue, absence of craft and poorly constructed sentences are all immediate turn-offs.
-Most writers improve hugely by attending writer’s groups and having the input of other writers, not just friends and family. Although a friend may be able to identify a problem (if they’re brave enough to tell you) they won’t necessarily know how to fix it.
-Literary companies exist who, for a fee, will read and provide feedback on your work. (Nb, perhaps I could sign up with one of these for work? Just a thought.)
-Publishers and agents aren’t put off by length. Anything from 80,000 to 300,000 words is fine. Just make sure those words are carefully chosen and don’t submit your first draft.
-If you struggle with agents, Penguin Ireland accept unsolicited scripts though most publishers do not. Agents act as the first gatekeeper to getting published.

The evening was also in conjunction with the Grazia and Orange new writers competition, which I read the winning entry to in this week’s Grazia magazine. I don’t know if this is just sour grapes, but it’s absolute dross. Honestly. Any number of the writers I know (almost all unpublished) would be able to produce something infinitely better. I’m not sure whether the result makes me more confident in that writing is clearly such a subjective art, or if it depresses me to think that my piece is not even as good as this unstructured nonsense. I’ll try and go with my half full cup this time.

I once said two of my aims in life are to get a play produced and to publish a novel. These are goals with no time limits. Take a deep breath and keep going.

Elliot Grove Q & A at the BFI

The BFI Southbank is currently running a lecture series on screenwriting. Writers appearing in the series include: Sir David Hare (The Hours, The Reader), Simon Beaufoy (The Full Monty, Slumdog Millionaire), Peter Morgan (Frost/ Nixon, The Queen, The Special Relationship), Aline Brosh McKenna (The Devil Wears Prada, 27 Dresses) and Ronald Harwood (The Pianist, The Diving Bell and The Butterfly). Although I don’t have any particular interest in getting into film writing I am interested in all aspects of writing for the screen. The lecture I opted for was perhaps the most relevant to me, as it was about the art of writing rather than about films generally. Elliot Grove is the founder of the Raindance Film Festival, started in 2003 to support the British Independent film industry and they now provide training for writers and film-makers (which, as with all these courses, is extortionately expensive at £290 for two days).

Grove seems like a fascinating man, growing up in a rural Amish community he describes his first experience seeing a film and how he got into films via art school and set design. When it came to setting up Raindance he said he realised one thing: that Brits can be snobby about something new and unbranded. They like to know what they’re going to get. So to his first film few film festivals the audiences were mainly American or from elsewhere in Europe. However over the next few years it grew, and now is a huge event in the film lovers calendar. This got me to thinking – I don’t have to sit and whine, I have to set something up myself! It would be great to have some sort of support or networking system for young people who want to get into TV who are under 30 with limited experience. It’s all well and good to get advice from established professionals now, but let’s be honest – the nature of the beast is very different from ten years ago.

The rest of Grove’s talk was anecdotes from his work, and a good chunk of advice:

-Learn how to format correctly and uniformly.
-READ scripts. Look for patterns in the scripts, both good and bad. Most bad scripts make the same mistakes so make sure you recognise them in others to avoid making them yourself.
-The industry is surrounded in mystique. Try to break that down.

They don’t want to meet new talent. They say they do, but they don’t. They’re worried you’ll be good and steal their cheese.

-The reasons why people don’t write are i) Lack of confidence ii) Self-destruction iii) Procrastination.
-The best way to write is to write a little every day and to keep that time sacred. Don’t let other tasks get in the way.
-The biggest thing is to entertain; if you’re not doing that you’re in the wrong business.
-The four basic tools for story-telling are: the characters, what they do, what they say, and the setting. Weave them together so the seams don’t show.
-Fim-making is about commerce. A writer has to inspire everyone else making the film, and once it’s written let it go.
-Don’t put reality into your script as we see it every day. Shape it into a story.
-People are voyeurs, put something on the screen that they would want to watch.
-Writing is a very minimal art form, so select your words carefully for maximum impact. Think about the impact of walk versus rushes, dashes, limps etc.
-But don’t overwrite. Every time you write something down re-read and ask yourself: is there a quicker way to say that?
-You aren’t writing a screenplay for the audience. You write it for the reader (who is invariably white, male, middle-aged, middle class). The role of a film-maker is to illicit emotion in an audience but the role of a writer is to illicit emotion in a reader.
-You will stumble on misfortune, don’t take it personally. Ask yourself if every hit film good? And therefore is every good film a hit?

All in all very useful and, more importantly at the moment, very inspiring. I’m off to adapt Senses as a stage play and see if I can have any luck getting that produced.

BBC Continuing Drama Q & A

On Thursday 4th March I attended an event organised by the BBC writersroom in which representatives from their continuing dramas (Eastenders, Holby City, Casualty and Doctors) spoke about what they do. Or, as I like to call it: Pick Me, Simon Harper. The room was full of eager and, I’ll admit, somewhat mental wannbe writers.

On the panel, among others, were John Yorke (Controller of Drama Production), Ceri Meyrick who works with new writers, writer (and now producer) for Holby City Justin Young. I first met Justin during my placement at Holby City, and was lucky enough to sit in on an all day storylining meeting with him.

Many aspects of what they spoke about are covered on the writersroom website, and some of their tips I had already spoken to people about during my placement on Holby. However no matter how many times I have heard similar ideas (“be passionate” being the most common thread) I just love to listen to writers talk about writing. Here are some titbits I picked up - new gems and old pearls of wisdom:

General writing tips
-“Write that half hour like it’s the most important in your life.” John Yorke
-Don’t write a script that you hope will get you a job; write something that you’re passionate about. They receive lots of “competent but boring” writing.
-Make sure you love the show that you’re writing for.
-Too much exposition gives away bad writing. However most bad scripts are boring and just not memorable. Boredom is the worst thing for a script.
-The first ten pages give away if a script has potential, and all scripts submitted will be read this far.
-Send in the script you’re most proud of, regardless of what you think is most likely to get commissioned.
-Don’t take editorial notes personally.
-Screenwriting is less about the dialogue – storytelling should be in the stage directions as dialogue is about sub-text.
-Familiarise yourself with scripts, reading for TV, radio and theatre.
-They look for i) An individual voice, ii) The ability to create characters that resonate, iii) An understanding of structure.

BBC info
-Continuing drama is where writers learn their craft; it is likened to an emergency department, where you see and experience every eventuality and learn fast.
-Accept that continuing drama is a machine where you write collaboratively, but it is possible to retain your own voice.
-Scripts are only accepted from agents to specific shows. If you don’t have an agent submit scripts to the writersroom.
-Don’t submit a sample episode of an existsing show, send original work and remember that length (providing it’s over half an hour) doesn’t matter.
-Avoid gimmicks with your scripts, those sent in massive boxes or with money and gifts attached are viewed with suspicion and inconvenience people.
-The writersroom received around 10,000 scripts last year (eek!) and an estimated 5% of these were passed on.
-The Writer’s Academy receives around 500 applications for 8 places (double eek!). You can apply as many years in a row as you like.
-For Writer’s Academy submissions looking at the application form is left until the very end of the process, allowing the scripts to speak for themselves.
-Applications for the Writer’s Academy open from mid-April – you require at least one professional drama commission to apply, but don’t need an agent.
-Writer’s Academy is three months, with much of that time spent in a classroom, with visiting lecturers (past ones being Jimmy McGovern and Russell T Davies. Room for any more eeks?!) and one on one tutorials. A writer’s first episode of Doctors is developed in the classroom.
-They don’t get a massive percentage of applicants from screenwriting courses.
-Writer’s spend around 2 – 5 weeks on their first draft of an Eastenders episode, depending on where their commission falls on the production cycle.
-Don’t re-submit a script once you’ve received feedback unless the edited version is specifically asked for. Submit something new.
-On Doctors you get assigned your own script editor and you are then in their ‘stable’, whereas the others it can be a different editor each time.
-All BBC continuing drama focuses around A, B and C story strands.
-Each show has a lead writer and a core team of writers who are involved in the decision making for storys.
-Doctors works a little differently to the other three shows. Writers pitch story ideas as the show is designed to be something that new writers can bring their ideas to.
-Include directions, but not camera directions.
-Shadow scheme: if your script is successful they will give you a story document for an episode that has already run and do a test.