Writing + Directing Flashcards
Scheduling a Movie Night -Spike Lee
Schedule a movie night with your crew and have an
informal discussion afterward. Gathering your team
in a relaxing environment is not only a great bonding opportunity, but can help you, as the director,
set the tone for your set.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Do research.
If you know you want a scene in a library
for your novel, start visiting libraries. You may know
everything about libraries already, but being on the scene
will give you critical sensory details that you can use later.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “You learn more from finishing a
failure than you do from writing a
success.”
“You learn more from finishing a
failure than you do from writing a
success.”
Aristotle on Plot
- Plot
Aristotle put plot as the first essential element of storytelling, referring to it as the life and soul of any story. He often referred to plot as action — the arrangement of incidents. Without action, there can be no character. Without action, there can be no implementation of an idea or concept.
“If you string together a set of speeches expressive of a character, and well finished in point of diction or thought, you will not produce the essential tragic effect with a play which has a plot and artistically constructed incidents.”
What Aristotle is saying in that passage — and about the importance of plot over everything — is that a great character can not hold the weight of a story. That character must be forced to take some form of action, be it external or internal, in order for the story to come alive. And that action is a direct result of the plot that you, the writer, conjures in the form of conflict thrown at the character.
He further states that all plots must have a beginning, middle, and an end. This is likely the root of the three act structure writers know today.
Acting -Spike Lee
Spike admits that even though he knew a lot of
technical information when he left film school,
he had a lot to learn regarding how to communicate and work with actors.
Acting is a craft
and actors must be directed with sensitivity and
respect. It bears reminding that being an actor is an
act of vulnerability, both in the work of portraying
characters and in the audition process. These artists are judged not only on their talent, but also on
body shape, hair texture, features, skin tone, etc.
A director begins dialogue with his cast well before
the camera starts rolling. Spike likens his role to
being a coach of a sports team. That said, just as all
athletes are not the same, neither are actors. The
job of a director is to quickly recognize how to draw
out the best performance. Sometimes that means
watching an actor’s past work.
Another must-do
before filming? Read-throughs. Have your actors
read the screenplay aloud—without acting. This can
help the director better know what works in the
script and what doesn’t. When Spike does a read
through, he’s listening to hear how the language
sounds. Do the jokes land? Does the language seem
natural? Take notes, which you will incorporate into
the rewrite.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Internal monologue,
Internal monologue, though not strictly a type of
dialogue, is a technique that conveys a character’s
voice on the page. It means letting the reader see a
character’s thoughts as they happen, and it often shows
the things they won’t say aloud: She stood in front of
the restaurant, wondering if he would be late, hoping
he would. She realized suddenly that she didn’t want to
meet him.
Whether you’re new or experienced, The Fiction
Writer’s Guide to Dialogue (2015) by John Hough,
Jr. will help you craft dialogue that is authentic and
natural. It will also help you avoid many common
mistakes.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Choose memorable details
As Neil said, most people
already know what a tree looks like, so describe a tree
that has a unique feature, or explain why a particular
tree is important to your character.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “You can have your plot, you can
have some characters, you can have
an idea, you can have a starting
place. But what’s it about?”
When expanding your narrative, you’re going to need
to create conflict for your protagonist. For this, you’ll
need forces of antagonism that work against them. In
genre writing, antagonists are usually arch-villains, but
they don’t have to be people—they can be any oppositional element that thwarts your character’s main
Neil Gaiman on Writing - descriptive details
In his book The Art of Fiction (1983), John Gardner
says that descriptive details are like the elements of a
mathematical proof—they are necessary to convince the reader. The writer “gives us such details about the
streets, stores, weather, politics, and concerns of [the
setting] and such details about the looks, gestures, and
experiences of his characters that we cannot help
believing that the story he tells us is true.” Specific and
concrete details are critical to successful storytelling,
and the best way to make details concrete is by appealing to the reader’s senses.
Neil uses the following techniques to rev up descriptive
prose.
David Sedaris on Writing
LOOK TO OTHER WRITERS TO WRITE BETTER YOURSELF
As David says, “you can’t write unless you read.” Find your own way to books you love and trust
yourself if you have no one making suggestions. Read people you can understand and evaluate, not
writers who might intimidate you when you are starting out. And when you love someone’s work—a
phrase or a paragraph or an entire book—really take it apart and be able to say why you like it.
Memorize endings that thrill you and speak them out loud. Let the work get under your skin. Know
why you love something and let it live inside you as inspiration.
Aristotle on Reversal of intention
Reversal of Intention is a “change by which action veers round to its opposite.” This is essentially a turning point in a story. For example, you look at First Blood where we see John Rambo trying to reconnect with a fellow soldier from the Vietnam war.
He discovers that his last remaining brother-in-arms has died, leaving Rambo left standing alone. As he is clearly trying to move on from the horrors of that war, he is confronted with the turning point of being wrongfully arrested.
This leads to Rambo having to return to his warrior ways, as opposed to him trying to move on from them when the story began.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Turn
In traditional storytelling, every scene should have a
turn. This means shifting the emotional charge of the
scene to its opposite. For example, if your protagonist
is delightedly anticipating the arrival of his fiancée,
the scene doesn’t turn until something has altered his
delight, such as his fiancée showing up with another
man. This shifts the emotional charge from positive
to negative. However, there is a debate among writers
whether or not scenes must turn in a short story.
Sometimes your protagonist will resist all change, or
decline a critical moment of transformation. Some
short stories offer snippets of experience that don’t
adhere to traditional forms. For a fuller discussion of
this topic and of structuring short stories in general,
read “The Shapely Story” in Alice LaPlante’s The
Neil Gaiman on Writing “If you’re going to write... you have to be willing to do the equivalent of walking down a street naked. You have to be able to show too much of yourself. You have to be just a little bit more honest than you’re comfortable with...”
Essays are a natural way to learn more about individual writers and how they view their subject matter.
The voices you’ll encounter in essays tend to be more
personal than the ones you’ll find in novels or short
stories. The essay collections below provide plenty
of great topics to encourage your own thoughts. Do
you agree with the authors’ opinions? If not, write a
response or an essay of your own. Try to “show too
much of yourself.”
Film is powerful —SPIKE LEE
Film is a very powerful medium. Films can help people. Films can hurt people. It’s not something to play with. Images are very powerful.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - FOR YOUR NOVEL
A historical event related to your world
An artist, poet, or writer related to your theme
A clothing style
Landscape
A branch of science
A religious or spiritual belief
Important physical locations in that world
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “Dialogue is character. The way that somebody talks, what they say, how they say it is character. And dialogue has to show character. It also has to show plot. And maybe it can be funny along the way.”
On a technical level, there are numerous ways to
convey dialogue in writing. Just remember that at the
heart of dialogue is a character’s voice.
Direct dialogue is when you quote the character:
“I wish I could see you tomorrow,” she said.
Indirect is a narration that doesn’t show quotes but
often gives the feeling of being there: Had she agreed
with him already to meet at the restaurant at six
o’clock? She couldn’t remember. He’d said he had a
meeting at five and it might run over.
Summary tells the reader what happened from a
distance: They’d discussed meeting up tomorrow.
David Sedaris on Writing
GET READY TO REWRITE
Writing is rewriting. David writes an essay 12 to 18 times before giving it to an editor. He takes it
as far as he possibly can on his own and then rewrites it yet again after an editor has seen it.
When you’re in the midst of a tough revise, keep the following in mind:
• Don’t be afraid of “breaking” your piece. Chances are a rewrite will make it better, not worse.
• Expect a first draft to need major retuning.
• Often all of the “ingredients” of a good piece are there. Sometimes a revision is less a matter of
rewriting and more a matter of reordering, digging deeper, slowing down here, speeding up there,
and giving the reader the guts and odors on top of the skeleton and shadow.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Make sure that your story provides a satisfying
answer to the major dramatic question
Make sure that your story provides a satisfying
answer to the major dramatic question. Ask yourself, if you were a new reader of this book, would its
ending satisfy you? Would you feel that the promise
you started out with has been fulfilled? If not, go back
through your manuscript and find ways to buttress
your major storyline. This could mean suggestions for
significant revisions.
EDITING -Spike Lee
In BlacKkKlansman, Spike intercut between three
seemingly unconnected scenes to create a stark
contrast between love and hate. In one scene, a
Black professor recounts the story of a lynching to
a group of Black students. The other two scenes
show the Klan: one shows an initiation and the other shows a group of Klansmen watch The Birth
of a Nation. Spike ties the two worlds together by
including a voyeur in each—characters looking
on with horror at both the lynching and the Klan
screening. But it’s not enough to shoot all of these
scenes. You have to work with your editor to bring it
all together to tell the story you want to tell.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - WRITING EXERCISE
Go to a busy, public place where you can observe other
people. Choose one person and invent a few details
about them. What’s their name? Why are they there?
How do they feel? Now write a one-page description
of them. Find one detail that will make them distinct
for a reader. Show their thoughts, but try to blend
it in with the world around them. Don’t be afraid to
make their inner world completely different from their
appearance or surroundings.
MUSIC IS KEY -Spike Lee
Jazz dominates the scores for both Spike’s blackand-white classic She’s Gotta Have It (composed by
his father Bill Lee) and Mo’ Betta Blues (composed
by the Branford Marsalis Quartet and Terence
Blanchard).
Sometimes a director uses music to juxtapose the
action. This use of contrasting elements is called a
“counterpoint,” when the music is the opposite of
what’s happening in the scene. Spike employed this
in Jungle Fever in the scene where John Turturro is
walking down the street dressed for a date with his
Black girlfriend. His friends follow behind him, ridiculing and insulting him for his choice. While Frank
Sinatra’s “Hello Young Lovers” plays in the background, a brawl between the guys ensues, lending
a potent emotional intensity to this key scene.
Historical Story-Spike Lee
If you’re telling a historical story, remember your
audience. You want your audience to make the
connection between the period you’re depicting
and today, so that it has urgency. Humor is a powerful tool that can help you make this connection;
don’t be afraid to use it if it’s there and it feels natural
to do so. Endeavor to make your story more than
just a history lesson.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “‘And then what happened?’ Those words, I think, are the most important words there are for a storyteller. Anything you can do to keep people turning the pages is legitimate.”
“‘And then what happened?’ Those words, I think, are the most important words there are for a storyteller. Anything you can do to keep people turning the pages is legitimate.”
Aristotle on tragic incident
The Tragic Incident is a “destructive or painful action.” This is an event of large causalities, destructiveness, or overall danger that is ensued. Movies like Titanic, Patriots Day, The Towering Inferno, Deep Impact, and Independence Day are prime examples. Such stories can be based on true events — as is the case with Titanic and Patriots Day — or are fictional events which we now refer to as Disaster Movies. Characters are forced to deal with these tragic incidents and their character arcs are solely embedded within that framework.
David Sedaris on Writing
Exaggerate
Stretching a scenario into the most ridiculous version you can imagine
can be another way to get a laugh.
APRIL 28, 2019, MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA
At last night’s signing I met an emergency room doctor. We got to talking and she told me about a patient she’d
seen earlier in the week who had shoved a dildo too far up his ass. The door shut behind it, so he tried fishing it out
with a coat hanger. When that proved the wrong tool for the job, he snipped it with wire cutters, then went after both
the dildo and the cut-off hanger with a sturdier fresh hanger. You hear this from doctors all the time: their patients
shove lightbulbs up inside of themselves; shampoo bottles; votive candles and they always concoct some incredible
story to explain their predicament. “I tripped,” is a big one.
And OK, I’m pretty clumsy. I trip all the time, but have never wound up with a pepper grinder up my ass, not
even a little bit. I’m pretty sure I could tumble down all the stairs in the Empire State Building, naked, with a
greased up pepper grinder in each hand, and a box of candles around my neck, and still end up in the lobby with
an empty rectum.
STORYTELLING WITH
CAMERA COVERAGE -Spike Lee
According to Spike, film is all about movement.
Telling a story isn’t just about recording the
action, but how the images are captured. So
much can be conveyed through basic camera angle. You can shoot a weak character from
above so that they appear smaller. Conversely, you
can shoot a strong or heroic character from below
to make them appear larger than life. A volleying
camera suggests rising tension. A character facing
the camera suggests intimacy with the audience.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Revisit your notebook
Go back to your compost heap
and look for things that inspire you. Sometimes a single
word or object can trigger a whole scene or setting in your
world.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Do a cold open
Opening your scenes in the middle
of the action draws your reader into the story right
away. You can then weave in description throughout
the scene
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Let your reader know things your characters don’t.
This is the opposite type of suspense and is known as
“dramatic irony.” When your reader knows that the bus
roaring down the highway is headed for an elevated
freeway junction that hasn’t been completed yet, it fills
the audience with anticipation and dread for what they
know is coming: the passengers’ horror and shock.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Remember the rules
Every world has rules, and ideally
your characters will discover those rules the hard way.
Come up with a quick list of rules that might exist in your
world, and remember that you’ll probably discover more
as you go along.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Neil shares Heinlein’s list of rules—often called
Heinlein’s Business Rules—because they regard getting
published.
- You have to write.
- You have to finish what you write.
- You have to send it out to someone who could
publish it. - Refrain from rewriting—except to editorial
request. - When it comes back, send it out again.
- Neil’s rule: Then start the next thing
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “You get ideas from two things coming together. You get ideas from things that you have seen and thought and known about and then something else that you’ve seen and thought and known about, and the realization that you can just collide those things.”
One of the big questions Neil raises in this chapter is
the origin of ideas and inspiration. Neil posits that
ideas come from confluence, or the peculiar combinations of thoughts and experiences that are unique
to you. Many writers would agree. Others have found
ideas in dreams (Stephen King and Stephanie Meyer),
in sudden flashes of inspiration (J.K. Rowling), in a
casual joke (Kazuo Ishiguro), while doing a mundane
task like visiting a yard sale (Donna Tartt) or while
grading papers (J.R.R. Tolkien). Still others find
inspiration in the people they know (P.G. Wodehouse,
Agatha Christie, and Ian McEwan). Roald Dahl kept an
Ideas Book (his own compost heap) and found an idea
for a novel from an old comment he’d written many
years before. In her book Big Magic (2015), Elizabeth
Gilbert goes so far as to say that ideas are a “disembodied, energetic life form” and that creativity “is a force
of enchantment…like in the Hogwarts sense.” In order
to collaborate with these life forms, you must simply
engage in “unglamorous, disciplined labor” and write.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Ernest Hemingway
A pioneer of the concise, “masculine” style which came about because of his background in journalism and his general disillusionment
about war.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - epic story
In classical terms, an epic story was an adventure,
often written in poetic form, like Homer’s Odyssey.
Today, epic stories tend to be referred to as “hero’s
journeys,” and often include works of fantasy or
historical fiction. Joseph’s Campbell’s influential
work, The Hero With a Thousand Faces (1949),
analyzes the monomyth behind this genre.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Make your descriptions do more than one thing.
You’re not just describing a tree, you’re moving the
story forward by creating a sense of foreboding or
developing the character who is looking at the tree.
Having a voice -Spike Lee
As a writer-director, it’s important to have
your own voice. This means having a distinct
approach, whether it’s via a favored camera
angle, lighting, or the city or culture your
stories explore. Voice is what gives your work style.
One way to have a unique voice is to tell unique
stories, and no better way than to mine your own
life for material. Many of Spike’s earliest films were
inspired by his personal experience. She’s Gotta
Have It originated from conversations he and his
friends had about women. School Daze was reminiscent of his college days at Morehouse College
and Clark Atlanta, both HBCUs (Historically Black
College and University).
In Do The Right Thing, Spike
recalled a time in New York City when race relations
were at a fever pitch, particular between African
Americans and Italian Americans. He knew versions
of those characters growing up in Brooklyn—how
they spoke, their mannerisms—and recognized the
growing cultural tension. The result was a powerful
story that not only resonates, but is sadly reflected
in real life to this day. Stories which originate from
your own life will often be the ones about which
you’re most passionate and know intimately. Let
this passion carry you through the tough but rewarding task of taking your film from conception
through to completion.
Trust your instincts when writing your screenplays.
Don’t be afraid to break the rules.
For example,
when Spike writes, he doesn’t think about his work
fitting into a three act structure. Some may consider
this blasphemy, but Spike believes it’s important to
question the norm. It also takes courage to create
characters whose thoughts and opinions may be
wildly different from your own—unsavory even.
But if you can write two characters who are at odds
and yet they are both somehow right, you’ve hit the
drama jackpot.
David Sedaris on Writing
F
or a nonfiction writer, connecting to your reader hinges on your ability
to be honest with them. Emotional honesty, embracing who you are,
and admitting what you don’t always want to admit are a few things that
distinguish a great essay from a good one. A reader knows when a writer is
being fake or dishonest. It takes practice to let go of the urge to paint yourself in a good light.
“I hope you understand that this is some hard sh*t to do. It takes dedication, it takes love, it takes compassion... It’s a continuing process of educating yourself, getting experience, and being the best you can be.” —SPIKE LEE
“I hope you understand that this is some hard sh*t to do. It takes dedication, it takes love, it takes compassion... It’s a continuing process of educating yourself, getting experience, and being the best you can be.” —SPIKE LEE
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Genre
Readers are always looking for something fresh,
so you must sail against the expected, but at the
same time, readers expect certain things. To
navigate these tricky waters, you’ll need to understand
reader expectations, which means having a grasp of
the genre your story belongs to. Only once you’ve
mastered the promises you make will you be able to
subvert your audience’s expectations and provide the
kind of surprises that readers adore.
Any genre—or category of story—is made up of
conventions. These are specific characters, events,
settings, or outcomes that define the type of story
you’re telling—and that the reader will be expecting.
For example, a romance is generally made up of two
people who fall in love and who cannot express or
fulfill that love until the end of the story. You must
assume that your audience understands genre thoroughly, and therefore you must understand it more. In
every scene you write, you are raising a question or
making a promise to your reader. Most people know
instinctively what promises are being made. If you’ve
got a dead body in chapter one, and an investigator
comes to look at the scene, you’re making an implicit
promise to the reader that they’re going to find out how
that person died. You must be able to anticipate the
audience’s reactions and expectations—only then can
you keep their interest and deliver surprise.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Find the emotion in it.
Description can be dry, but if
it carries emotional weight for you or your characters,
be sure to include that to engage the reader
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “You always have to remember, when people tell you that something doesn’t work for them, that they’re right. It doesn’t work for them. And that is incredibly important information. You also have to remember that when people tell you what they think is wrong and how you should fix it, that they’re almost always wrong.”
Once you’re ready to share your work, it can be
a challenge to find the right reader. If you haven’t
got one, consider joining Writer’s Café online. It’s a
resource that will help you connect with other writers
who are willing to review and edit your work. Usually
you’ll read their work in exchange. The site also
provides writing groups and courses in the craft.
David Sedaris on Writing
EXCERPTS FROM “THE SPIRIT WORLD”
•“Unlike Lisa and Paul, who are on the west side of the house and could probably sleep on burlap without noticing it,
Amy likes nice sheets.”
•“Amy sat up and moved closer, so that her head was between my seat and Gretchen’s.”
•“If I’m right about the sister as well, the person I’m talking to will become like a cat released into a new setting, very
low to the ground and suspicious.”
•“We were returning from a walk and came upon our father in the middle of the street a quarter mile from the house.
He was dressed in jeans and had a flat-topped cap on his head. His flannel shirt was untucked, and the tail of it
dropped from beneath the hem of his Windbreaker.”
•“Her shoes looked like she’d found them in a trash can.”
24
EXCERPTS FROM “UNDERSTANDING UNDERSTANDING OWLS”
•“The man who owned the shop was so much taller than me that, in order to look him in the eye, I had to throw my
head all the way back, like I do at the dentist’s office.”
• “‘Me?’ For some reason I looked at my hands. ‘Oh, goodness no.’”
• “The taxidermist invited me to guess again, but before I could, he blurted, ‘It’s a Pygmy!’”
•“The three of us can walk into a crowded party and all zoom in on the person who’s missing a finger, or who has one
regular-sized ear and one significantly smaller one, while my sister Lisa will pick up something else entirely.”
Characterization
One of the most common pieces of writing
advice—“show, don’t tell”—is a good rule to keep
in mind when introducing characters. You have
a choice between direct characterization, which
is a simple description that tells your reader what a
person is like—“Jane was a horrible girlfriend”—and
indirect characterization, which creates a scene that
shows exactly what makes Jane such a horrible partner.
The second method is usually more powerful when
introducing characters because it allows the reader
to experience them firsthand. It requires more of the
reader, asking them to the do the work of visualizing
the scene and forcing them to ask questions about the
character. Neil’s jinni coming out of the lamp is indirect
characterization: “I stretched my neck to get out the
last of the cramp. It didn’t just feel good. It felt great
actually. I’d been squashed up inside that lamp for so
long.” It gives a sense of the jinni’s relief at being free,
and at his previous isolation and loneliness. It wouldn’t
have been as compelling if Neil had written, “The jinni
was relieved to be free.”
financing -Spike Lee
There are a multitude of ways to approach finding
the capital you need to make your film. Here are a
few points of entry:
— Sundance offers a variety of funding opportunities and creative labs for directors, screenwriters,
producers, and independent storytellers of all
genres. Review their opportunities here.
— Similarly, Tribeca All Access offers funding and
support services for independent filmmakers.
— Creative Capital provides artist grants to fiction
and nonfiction filmmakers.
— IFP is a non-profit that offers grants, fiscal sponsorship, community, and resources to filmmakers of all genres.
— Cinereach is a nonprofit that offers developmental funding and filmmaker support to fiction and
nonfiction filmmakers.
— PBS offers a comprehensive grants database for
documentary filmmakers. Dive into it here.
— Documentary filmmakers can consider partnering with a fiscal sponsor like IDA. Review their
funding opportunities for nonfiction filmmakers
here.
— Kickstarter and Indiegogo are the go-to crowdfunding platforms for creatives. Crowdfunding is
not only a revenue source, but it also puts your
film on the radar of sales agents and investors, and
serves as a proof of concept to potential buyers.
— Spike references a “bond company” in regards to Malcolm X. In independent film, a producer
can work with a bond company to get upfront
financing for the a film. It works like this: the producer gets a distribution contract that promises a
minimum distribution guarantee payment upon
completion, but needs that money up front to
fund production. So, they use their distribution
contract as collateral to get a production loan
from a bond company. The loan is essentially an
advance on their minimum distribution guarantee. The producer—along with the distributor and
the bond company—all sign a completion bond
agreement (also known as a completion guarantee), which is a promise to complete the film as
per their contract and deliver it to the distributor.
The bond company then takes the minimum
distribution guarantee as repayment of the loan.
Under this kind of agreement, the bond company
has the right to take over the film if it is going over
budget—such is the situation Spike faced with
Malcolm X
Aristotle on beginnings
The beginning of your story often isn’t the result of something that came before it. The complexities of character (see below) can surely point to previous moments in that character’s life not shown, but the beginning of the story is where the actions first begin to take place. You show the character’s world and then confront them with some form of conflict that they must take action on.
Aristotle Diction
“The expression of the meaning in words; and its essence is the same in both verse and prose.”
Dialogue is an important element that can not be taken lightly. Too many scripts suffer from on-the-nose dialogue — words that are more interested in relaying information and exposition, as opposed to displaying the emotions, fears, struggles, and intentions of the character. The verse is the chunk of dialogue and the prose is the way it is written.
We’ve said before that there is no secret answer to great writing dialogue — but that doesn’t mean there is no place to find it. And the way you find great dialogue is by living through the characters that you write. What would they say? What would they not say? How would they say it? What would they gain from saying it? What would they gain from not saying it?
On a secondary note, verse and prose can be a vital part in scene description within a screenplay — or novel for you authors out there. The diction of your scene description can play a vital role in how the read of your material is experienced by the powers that be.
In both cases, pay particular attention to each and every line of dialogue or scene description. Ask yourself, “Does this need to be there? Am I saying the same thing twice or more? What repercussions are there for my character saying that line and am I ready to go down that road with them? Does the reader need this much detail or can I say more with less and let them fill in the rest?”
David Sedaris on Writing
Once you’re in the habit of writing everything down, you might be tempted to whip out your notebook in the middle of a particularly juicy conversation. But resist the urge. “You don’t want to end it,”
David says (of “the moment” in question). “I was in London and I was in a taxidermy shop. And the
owner of the shop showed me these owls that he had for sale. And then he showed me a pygmy
skeleton. And then he showed me an amputated arm. And then he showed me a girl’s head. So he
had some human things that were for sale. And by that time my life really felt like a story. But I
knew that if I pulled out my notebook, everything would have ended.”
Instead of ending the moment, let a situation play out naturally instead of drawing attention to it by
taking notes as it’s happening. People might feel self-conscious if they see your notebook, or, even
worse, they’ll become aware of the way they’re being observed by you. That will alter or shut down
what might have happened without the notebook. You can always jot down notes once the moment
is over
Neil Gaiman on Writing - climax
Traditionally, a book’s ending delivers on the promises
you’ve made to the reader throughout the story. When
Neil suggests thinking of a short story as the ending of
a novel, he means that much of what you’re creating
in terms of your characters and world will not make it
into the final story. Instead, you want to hit the most
important moment—the story’s climax. At the same
time, you need to convey enough information that
your reader is not lost. In order to do this, consider in
medias res—a writerly practice that means opening the
story in the middle of the action and filling in details
later. This takes you straight to your important scene.
Casting I -Spike Lee
Choosing the right cast for your film is critical
and should not be rushed or taken lightly.
Taking time on the front end to audition actors
can save precious time and money on the
back end, as it can be difficult and costly to fire an
actor or edit out a bad performance. Do not be
afraid to ask an actor to audition more than once.
It is through this process you can witness the actor’s
approach over time and ultimately trust them with
the role. Don’t be afraid to cast people who might
not look the part, as Spike learned with Halle Berry
in Jungle Fever. Spike initially believed Berry, a former pageant contestant, was too attractive to convincingly play the role of a crack addict. He and his
casting director, Robin Reed, called the actress back
to read five or six times.
On one of these auditions,
Berry dressed the part to convince them she had
the acting chops, which won her the role.
When casting two leads, Spike believes it’s integral
for the actors to read together before they get the
role to ensure there is chemistry. He asks these
fundamental questions: Do they get along? Do they
interact? Is it believable that these people
Neil Gaiman on Writing - allusion
A
n allusion is a short reference to another story,
usually through the use of well-known elements.
For example, you can quickly reference Alice’s
Adventures in Wonderland (1865) by mentioning a
white rabbit. Allusions generate interest because they
set a context for the story you’re reading while hinting
at the similarities or differences in the two works. Neil
uses allusions often, and they are just as wide-ranging
as his storytelling interests, referencing Egyptian and
Greek mythology, Victorian fairy tales, Beowulf and
Norse mythology, Shakespeare, Tolkien, and modern
cinema, to name a few
Neil Gaiman on Writing - ritual
When rejection begins to weigh you down, the simplest
things can keep you going. One of those is ritual.
Murakami said, “The repetition itself becomes the
important thing; it’s a form of mesmerism. I mesmerize
myself to reach a deeper state of mind.” If you’re feeling
deflated, set up a routine for yourself and stick to it.
These tools can help you organize and stay on track:
• The online Writing Schedule Calculator can give
you an estimate of how long it will take you to write
your novel. Answer a few basic questions, and you’ll
have an idea of what to plan for.
• The Marinara Timer from 352 Inc. is an online,
customizable productivity timer that you can use to
create sessions for your writing.
• Streaks is an app that allows you to create daily
goals for yourself and them gamify those goals by
winning credits when you reach certain milestones.
• SquareSpaceNote is another useful app. It will sync
all of your electronic information and writing so
that you can have everything in one place for when
you sit down to write.
For help on building positive routines, check out
Atomic Habits: An Easy and Proven Way to Build Good
Habits and Break Bad Ones (2018) by James Clear.
This book is full of practical advice based on the idea
that making large-scale changes will happen through
small, manageable steps.
Writing Process-Spike Lee
The story that you keep thinking about over
time is the story you’ve got to write.
Spike begins his writing process by jotting
down ideas about the story in a notebook—character names, dialogue, plot points, et cetera. Once he
feels like he has everything down, he transfers his
notes onto index cards. He then begins the process
of ordering. Using cards allows him to order and
reorder until he feels that he’s gotten it right. This
work—plus research—gives him an abundance of
material, which he eventually transforms into a
script.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “As a writer, you’re always going
to be rejected, and that’s basically
healthy.”
“People ask me, “How do you cope with rejection?”…And there are only two ways to do it—one of which is you go down. You get sad. You put the thing away. You stop writing. You go and get a real job, go and do something else. And the other is a kind of crazed attitude that actually the most important thing now is to write something so brilliant, so powerful, so good nobody could ever reject it.”
Aristotle Spectacle
Aristotle lists spectacle as the least important element of storytelling.
“Spectacular effects depends more on the art of the stage machinist than on that of the poet.” That is an amazing line to read considering the text was written thousands of years ago — but it rings true today, doesn’t it? How many special effects-driven studio tent poles have failed at the box office — and why did they fail?” Because they are void of the principles listed above.
The spectacle can be intriguing and certainly does draw in a certain audience, but it should never prioritized above any of the other principles. It doesn’t matter what great action, horror, or comedic sequences you can conjure. If the story is void of plot, character, thought, diction, and yes, even some music — wink wink — the spectacle doesn’t matter.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - genre
Think of genre as a set of expectations that your reader
already has, based on the type of story you’re telling.
In a murder mystery, for example, the reader expects
a murder, an investigation, and a resolution of the
crime. It doesn’t mean you have to provide all of those
things; you only have to be aware that your reader
will be expecting them, and that if you don’t provide
them, you risk disappointing your audience. While
there are hundreds of genres, it’s important to start by
understanding the three primary ones: epic, tragic, and
comic.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Focus on your character’s sensory experience
Use
the strongest description sense for the scene. If your
character is in a gutter, smell may be more provocative
than sight
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “What is a story? Eventually what I decided was, the
story is anything fictional that keeps you turning
the pages and doesn’t leave you feeling
cheated at the end.”
E
very story has a big idea, the thing that you
would say your story is about. Deciding on your
story’s big idea is generally straightforward—it is
the thing that prompts you to start writing in the first
place. However, this will evolve over time. For Neil,
Neverwhere came from a desire to write about a world
beneath London. He soon realized that the story was
about homelessness and the people who are overlooked
in big cities. It can be challenging to come up with a
fresh big idea that is meaningful to you. Often, it will
come about through the merging of disparate topics
that you weave together because of your particular
obsessions or interests. Keep going back to your
compost heap to find those things, and begin to draw
threads between your various interests.
Neil Gaiman on Writing. WRITING EXERCISE
To practice honesty in your writing, choose one of
the following moments and write a few paragraphs in
your journal about it. As you write, pay attention to
your inner register about what you’re writing, noting
the particular things that make you uneasy. Try to be
a little “more honest than you’re comfortable with.”
Remember that being brave doesn’t mean you’re not
scared; it means you do it anyway.
• A time when you were deeply embarrassed.
• When you regret something you did.
• The saddest moment of your life.
• A secret you are afraid to talk about.
Take the work you wrote above and either read it aloud
to someone you trust, or read it alone and pretend that
you have an audience. Listen to the way you sound and
pay attention to the sensations in your body as you’re
reading the difficult moment. Consider what you’re
afraid of being judged for, or afraid of saying out loud.
Write those things down.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - rules
Even if the world you’re building is exactly like our
world, it’s going to have rules. In the real world, those
rules are built-in, since most readers already know
what they are. In a fantasy world, the rules may be different—and part of what makes your setting interesting.
Maybe magic works differently in your world, or
your characters must obey certain laws. Because your reader doesn’t know those laws already, you’ll have to
make them clear. (Ideally, only the important ones.)
It’s good not to spell them out directly to your reader,
rather let your characters grapple with them. In the
best cases, rules create drama and character conflict,
so let the rules become apparent from your characters’
experiences.
If you’re going to have magic in your world, know that
a lot of writers argue that magic has to make sense or
have some sort of internal logic, even cause-and-effect
behaviors (all of which undermine very old notions of
magic). For those who argue this, placing pseudo-natural restrictions on magic is practically a requirement.
You don’t have to create a super-system that can stand
up to scientific scrutiny, but it’s good to remember that
there are different types of magic. To create any system,
consider these laws of magic for crafting a story with
this trope.
THE ART OF THE TRAGICOMEDY
David Sedaris on Writing
When David started writing, he wanted to make his reader laugh. He learned how to do that well.
Then he wanted to do more—he wanted to suffuse comedy with tragedy. When sorrow is attached to
humor, an essay has more gravitas and is more memorable. The sadness can’t be forced or formulaic, but it’s important to always look for a way to move people, to add meaning, with more than
laughter. David found inspiration for this in his own work by watching Whoopi Goldberg: Direct From
Broadway (1985). Goldberg created monologues and stories that made the audience laugh before
turning to something surprisingly painful or startling or tragic. You’ll notice that David has become a
master of this as well: He can make you laugh and cry all within the confines of the same 12 pages
(consider essays like “Now We Are Five,” about his sister Tiffany’s suicide, or “Why Aren’t You
Laughing,” about his mother’s alcoholism)
David Sedaris on Writing
Don’t get lazy
After many years of reading on a stage, David
has a sense of who his audience is, which
makes it easier for him to connect with them.
But he never goes for the low-hanging fruit
by making a joke that appeals to a particular
audience’s sensibility. Sacrificing cleverness for
something people will applaud and agree with
will never be the most satisfying laugh.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Go back to your influences for inspiration.
Make a list
of your favorite childhood books and authors and try to
recall what you loved most about them. Write all those
things down, and then brainstorm ways to use that inspiration while avoiding any clichés.
David Sedaris on Writing
A diary can be a recording of details that make up your days. It can be simple events or facts,
especially when you begin. In fact, let yourself
start with those things. A diary can train you to
write every day and to notice the world around
you. Don’t judge what you are putting down or
worry about whether it’s good or clever or funny.
Recording anything in your diary is enough.
Let your diary be the beginning of writing every
day—of developing habits that will sustain the
compulsion to write. But don’t read what you’ve
written at first. Don’t review it. David sees his
diary as a warm-up exercise in the same way a
musician might play simple scales ahead of a
more complex piece.
David Sedaris on Writing
• Say yes to every invitation to read.
• Always read something new—don’t hop from
open mic to open mic with the same piece.
(Chances are some of the same audience
members will be there, and you don’t want to
bore them.)
• Don’t let the audience see how many pages
you have, and don’t announce how many
poems or essays you’re about to read.
• Don’t go over your allotted time.
• Dress up for the occasion
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “When you begin any story, you
have an infinite number of forking
paths. Every decision, every word,
every paragraph is a fork.”
Every story decision you make puts you on a path, and
the choices for your characters will narrow as the story
draws to its conclusion. Let’s say you begin a novel
with Richard hoping to go to outer space. At this point,
your novel could be about a number of things. Perhaps
Richard falls in love and discovers that marriage is
more important to him. Maybe he gets injured and puts
his dreams of space exploration away. Maybe he joins
the air force and goes to war instead. In the beginning
there are a vast number of forking paths. But as
the novel progresses, it should become clearer in the
reader’s mind not only what climax your protagonist
must reach but how that climax will probably occur.
If you spend 200 pages following Richard through
training to become an astronaut, then the reader will
be expecting him to get on a rocket—or tragically fail at his quest. Crucially, this resolution is the only climax
that will satisfy the audience. The climax does not have
to mean fireworks, but it does have to mean a profound
change, either for your protagonist or for their world.
Whatever that change is, you’ve been building the
whole story toward this moment. You’ve been making
a promise to the reader that this conflict would eventually occur—and get resolved—and good storytelling
will deliver on its promises.
In his book, How to Write a Damn Good Novel: A Stepby-Step No Nonsense Guide to Dramatic Storytelling
(1987), James Frey describes the crucible effect, which
is when an environment or situation becomes inescapable for your characters and forces them toward
a story’s climax. This crucible usually comes about
as a result of a character’s decisions, which is a result
of the pressures put upon them. Not every story will
have a crucible, but most of them do. For example, in
Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings (1954), what if Frodo
had decided not to bring the ring to Mordor? Tolkien
spends a great deal of time showing that Frodo is the
only one who can carry the ring, and suggesting what
might happen if he fails. All of this work creates the
crucible effect for Frodo, making him (and the reader)
feel that he has no choice but to reach Mordor, no
matter what it might cost him.
Withhold information.
This is the most common
way to raise interest. When your character is driving
frantically down a dirt road in a Winnebago wearing
nothing but his underwear and a gas mask, your audience is going to have questions.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Suspense
No matter what type of story you’re telling, suspense
is a valuable tool for keeping a reader’s attention and
interest. Suspense involves raising a major dramatic
question that the reader wants answered. It is usually
based on a character’s desire, and if it is not answered
by the end of the book, the story will not feel complete
for the reader. For example, Tolkien’s The Lord of the
Rings (1954) is driven by the reader wanting to know:
Will Frodo be able to return the ring to Mordor and
defeat Sauron? Multiple subplots engage the reader throughout the book, but this is the central storyline
that touches all the others. This “What’s Going to
Happen?” game drives any story forward. There is an
implicit promise that you will answer the questions
(at varying paces), but in order to sustain interest, you
must continue to raise questions.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Reveal less
As you saw in Chapter 10: Character Case
Study, painting pictures in light brushstrokes can be
evocative because you’re asking the reader to do the
work of imagining.
David Sedaris on Writing
Write Everyday
David wrote every day for 15 years before his first book was published. You don’t need to have a particular story to tell. You don’t have to be special or important. Your experience doesn’t have to be unique. You just have to be compelled to write, and you have to write every day. If David wasn’t published and selling books, he would still be putting pen to paper every day because he is obsessed with the act of writing itself. You have to write because you can’t not write.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “Each story has its own voice. But
the attitude, the soul, the thing you
take away from it, hopefully that’s
all me. And that can be all you.”
“Each story has its own voice. But
the attitude, the soul, the thing you
take away from it, hopefully that’s
all me. And that can be all you.”
Casting II -Spike Lee
As an independent filmmaker, be open to working
with new acting talent. If you’re able to hire a casting
director, utilize their resources to help suss out new
talent.
Good casting directors often have connections to agents and talent, as well as a sharpened
eye for choosing the right actors for your project.
Several famous folks got their first movie credits
with Spike, including Halle Berry, Martin Lawrence,
Rosie Perez, and Queen Latifah.
Spike found Rosie Perez at a dance club in LA. She
was dancing on top of a speaker, and when the
bouncer told her to get down, she cursed him out—
in a Puerto Rican-Brooklyn accent that captivated Spike. He cast her as Mookie’s girlfriend in Do the
Right Thing, and made the character Puerto Rican
for her.
David Sedaris on Writing
Forcing yourself to rely on other people is one way to create built-in encounters with strangers.
David, for example, has never learned to drive a car. As such, public buses, Ubers, planes, and
trains are all opportunities for meetings that can lead to diary entries and essays. These are situations that you don’t choose or orchestrate, but they can lead to a chance connection that you might
end up writing about. These fortuitous interactions are part of what makes life worth living for David.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “Whether or not you write an outline or you don’t write an outline, you are still going to be moving from point to point with a lot of things that you don’t know happening on the way.”
If you’ve reached that chapter where you’re not sure
what happens next, take Neil’s advice and write
the next thing you know. It may be a scene from six
chapters in the future. It may even be the ending, but
go ahead and write it. Try writing it in your notebook
by hand. Sometimes the physical act of writing can
stimulate new thinking.
When you’re stuck on a scene, try listing all the characters who are not “onstage” at the moment. Describe
briefly what each of those characters is doing offstage.
Sometimes brainstorming what the novel’s other
characters are up to can trigger fresh ideas for how to
proceed.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Pacing
It’s important to keep a balance between two types of
narration: dialogue and exposition. Dialogue refers
to the things that characters say, while exposition
refers to descriptive narration. If you have a very long
section of dialogue, it’s good to insert brief sections of
exposition to keep your reader grounded in time and
place—and the reverse is true as well, so break up passages of exposition with brief dialogues. Generally, dialogue tends to speed up the pacing of your story, while
exposition will slow things down. Pacing means how
fast or slow the story is moving for the reader. This
is determined by the length of a scene and the speed
at which you distribute information to your reader.
To prevent the pacing of your story from becoming
monotonous, strive for a balance between dialogue and
exposition.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - READING EXERCISE
Read Chapter 1 of American Gods, and identify the suspense questions being raised. What are you wondering
about? What makes you curious to see what happens
next? What things are left unsaid? Finally, take a guess
at the book’s major dramatic question.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Tragedy
traditionally shows someone’s downfall
and is supposed to provoke pity and fear. For much
of Western history, this type of story was restricted
to powerful and wealthy characters only, but in
modern times, tragedy occurs with all sorts of
protagonists.
Aristotle on Recognition
Recognition is a “change from ignorance to knowledge.” This change takes place within the character(s) of the story and can either lead to positive or negative results after the knowledge is attained. In The Lord of the Rings, Frodo and his fellow hobbits have never stepped out of the Shire.
When they do, they are confronted by darkness and evil. They are forced to gain knowledge from those around them in order to survive.
Frodo in particular is taken on the greatest journey as he experiences the worst conditions and the worst evil while tasking himself to destroy the ring once and for all
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “Find one thing that is memorable, one thing that’s important, one thing that’s different, and then look at that using a sense. It may be touch, it may be smell. Smell is often ignored in writing, and smell in the real world is subliminal, rolling, evocative, and very, very likely to take you to very strange places.”Do a cold open
Two basic types of narration make up exposition.
In a scene, you show the characters in action
or having a conversation. For the reader, it’s
like being in the action. In dramatic narration (or
“summary”), you simply describe what the characters
did, while the events you’re describing seem to
occur offstage. You can think of this as the difference
between “showing” and “telling,” and as you saw in
Chapter 10: Character Case Study, you should find
a balance to both types of prose—one that is suited
to you. To keep a balanced pace, it’s good to switch
between scene and dramatic narration. Use scenes to
speed up the pacing, and be sure to choose the ones
that are interesting or necessary. Use dramatic narration when you want to describe things or to move over
the less exciting bits.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Come up with details from your own life for inspiration
Make a list of the top ten places you’ve visited and
loved. It doesn’t matter what they are, as long as you loved
them. Next, make a list of the places you’d like to visit.
Then come up with ways to inc
“The danger is writing something that just
stops instead of something that ends.”
David Sedaris on Writing
To successfully end an essay with weight or substance, you have
to understand the difference between sentimentality and truth.
Sentimentality is manipulative and unsurprising. It’s the Hallmark card,
the easy words that have always been used to signify certain emotions
without actually moving someone into feeling them. Oscar Wilde said,
“A sentimentalist is simply one who desires to have the luxury of emotion
without paying for it.” In a similar vein, James Joyce said, “Sentimentality
is unearned emotion.” Truth, on the other hand, convicts you to your core.
David Sedaris on Writing
Quote funny people
When the people around you are funny, you can bring them into your
work. They know they are being witty, and you are taking them with you
into the essay as part of the humor.
OCTOBER 18, 2019, GREENSBORO, NORTH CAROLINA
The doctor who performed my colonoscopy a few years back came to last night’s show and stood in line to
have a book signed. “Do you have to get up early tomorrow morning?” I asked.
“At the crack,” he said, which I guess is a common joke among gastroenterologists.
MAY 21, 2016, EMERALD ISLE, NORTH CAROLINA
Over dinner last night, Amy recalled her sixth grade health teacher, who separated the girls in class one day
and asked, “If you were naked and had only a washcloth, which would you cover, your top or your bottom?”
Amy’s answer: “I’d cover my face,” is, I think, the best possible response. But still, what a question.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “There’s always a tiny part of you,
as a writer, who, metaphorically,
or really, is standing there with a
notebook, just taking notes.”
Sometimes the first step in writing a novel is
developing your world. This is not just the actual
landscape that your characters will inhabit, but
the tone of your story, its major preoccupations and
themes, as well as the nature of its morality. You will
probably not know all of this up front, but setting
down the basics will help you start writing. Research
plays a vital role in this development, but you’ll also
refer to your compost heap and sources of inspiration.
Don’t be afraid to borrow details from your own life.
Leaning on your personal experience and knowledge
of things is one of the keys to crafting believable places.
Even the smallest moments can help you visualize
a world more clearly, and you may find yourself
answering odd questions, like where do your fantasy
characters go to the bathroom? Along the way, you and
your characters will learn the rules and nature of your
world.
One part of worldbuilding happens with characters
and actions, but a critical part also happens with
description. When you’re starting out, don’t limit
yourself. Explore your world to its furthest reaches.
Only later will you need to edit. Along the way, focus
on the memorable details, and keep them grounded in
a character’s sensory experience. Everyone probably
knows what a tree looks like, so if you’re describing
one, tell the reader what makes it different or why it’s
important for your characters.
As a director, you
should find out in the
rehearsal process who
can improv. -Spike Lee
The best directors don’t just tell people what
to do. Quite the opposite. This is a job where
spontaneity and intuition are just as important as following the script. A good director
both commands and surrenders to the moment.
Sometimes surrender means trusting the actor and
allowing them to lead. For example, in He Got Game,
the culminating scene is a high-stakes game of oneon-one between father Jake (Denzel Washington)
and son Jesus (Ray Allen). Per Spike’s screenplay,
Jesus is supposed to beat Jake single-handedly,
10-0. Unbeknownst to Spike, Washington–
a former athlete—decided his character should
not and would not lose by so wide a margin.
When
the cameras started rolling, the Academy Awardwinning actor immediately scored four points on
Allen. The son eventually wins the game 10-4, but
the father made him work for every point. Spike
kept the camera rolling because although Denzel
was going off-script, the actor’s instincts were right.
The drama was heightened by the close game,
which made for a better film.
It is important to remember, however, that not all
actors are great at improvisation. Spike advises you
find out in the rehearsal process who can do what.
The artfulness of a director also comes in how you
pull a performance out of your actors.
In School
Daze, which deals with classism and colorism in
the Black community, Spike wanted to avoid the
camaraderie that often happens with young actors
working on location films. To create the tension
Spike felt he needed between the movie’s two opposing groups—the Jigaboos and the Wannabees—
he housed the actors in different hotels. The fairskinned, weave-wearing Wannabees were put up
in a nice hotel; the darker-skinned, natural-haired
Jigaboos’ lodgings were not as nice. This roll of the
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Comedy
is often built of the same materials as
tragedy but ends on a positive note (usually with
a wedding). The genre’s primary interests are to
amuse and entertain, but there is a strong tradition
of mocking social conventions, institutions, or
beliefs in the popular subcategories of parody, satire,
and farce.
David Sedaris on Writing
Don’t build an essay around a laugh
All writers become intimately familiar with the
phrase “kill your darlings” sooner or later. The
idea is that we all have to sacrifice particularly
self-indulgent lines or passages for the greater
good of the piece. For a humorist, this means
that you’ll inevitably have to let a laugh go. You
might have crafted a really good line that makes
people laugh, but that line alone isn’t enough to
carry an entire essay. If you try to work around
that one laugh, you will lose the audience before
you even get to that line.
David Sedaris on Writing
Let go of perfection Don’t compare yourself to other writers—comparison is the thief of joy. Instead, find a way to be you. You may not write like David or any other writer whose work you admire, but you can find your way to your own best work. Perfection is not the goal. Wanting to be perfect won’t make you perfect, but it could stop you from trying.
Prepping locations -Spike Lee
. Flexibility and preparation are crucial to independent filmmaking. Losing locations is inevitable, so be prepared with a cover set, which is
essentially an alternate location. Extra places to film
in case of unforeseen circumstances can save your
day and keep your shooting schedule and your
budget on track.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “Humor is that moment where you see something
that you’ve always thought, but now somebody has
articulated it. And they’ve articulated it in a way that
you’ve never seen before. And sometimes it’s
just the joy of the unexpected.”
Humor is another crucial tool in setting the tone. It
often involves subverting reader expectations, and so
leans heavily on surprise and the unexpected. This
requires a basic understanding of cliché and how to
twist it around, essentially allowing you to generate a
reader expectation and then undermine it. Sometimes
words themselves are funny, and just as often, their
placement in a sentence can make a difference.
While clichés are something most writers try to avoid,
it’s important to recognize them. Humor relies in part
on twisting a cliché—transforming or undermining
it. You do this by setting up an expectation based on
the cliché and then providing a surprise outcome. For
example: “What doesn’t kill you makes you stranger.”
In humor writing, this process is called reforming.
You can also reform with structural elements. The
whole idea of genre is based on a series of expectations
in a story. Genre stories hit those expectations, but
attempt to do so in a way that feels fresh—usually with
new characters, new settings, or new twists. Sometimes
these novel features have a humorous effect. For
example, Guy Ritchie’s 2009 Sherlock Holmes movie
took a staid, nineteenth-century character and added
CGI to make him a Matrix-style fighter, which many
audiences found amusing.
David Sedaris on Writing
Read the ending to David’s essay “The Spirit World.” He achieves a weighted end beautifully by
revealing a story about something that happened with his sister Tiffany, the last time he saw her
before she committed suicide. He stopped worrying about what people might think of him for writing
this and stayed vulnerable and honest, even when it seemed risky. This is gut-wrenching truthfulness,
not sentimentality, and it is what you must be brave enough to strive for in your own work.
It seems there was a perfectly good explanation for all the butterflies in our Sussex House the previous winter. From
what I’d read since Amy brought it up, they flew in through our windows in early autumn. Then passed into a kind
of hibernation. Hugh and I were away until right before Christmas and when we returned and cranked up the heat
the butterflies, mainly tortoise shells, dozens and dozens of them awoke, wrongly believing that spring had arrived.
They were on all the second floor windows, batting against the panes, desperate to get out.
As symbols go, they’re a bit too sweet. Right for Lisa, but all wrong for Tiffany, who’d have been better represented
by something more dynamic. Crows, maybe. Two big ones flew down the chimney of my office that winter and tore
the place apart, systematically overturning and then shitting on everything I cared about.
What, I wondered, placing the cucumbers back over my eyes, would my symbol be?
The last time I saw my sister Tiffany was at the stage door at Symphony Hall in Boston. I had just finished a show
and was getting ready to sign books when I heard her say, “David. David. It’s me.”
We hadn’t spoken in four years at that point and I was shocked by her appearance. Tiffany always looked like my
mother when she was young; now she looked like my mother when she was old. Though at the time, she couldn’t
have been more than 45. “It’s me, Tiffany.” She held up a paper bag with the Starbucks logo on it. Her shoes looked
like she’d found them in a trash can. “I have something for you.”
There was a security guard holding the stage door open and I said to him, “Will you close that, please?” I had filled
the house that night. I was in charge—Mr. Sedaris. “The door,” I repeated. “I’d like for you to close it now.”
And so the man did. He shut the door in my sister’s face and I never saw her or spoke to her again. Not when
she was evicted from her apartment, not when she was raped, not when she was hospitalized after her first suicide
attempt. She was, I told myself, someone else’s problem. I couldn’t deal with her anymore.
“Well,” the rest of my family said, “it was Tiffany. Don’t be too hard on yourself. We all know how she can be.”
Perhaps like the psychic, they were just telling me what I needed to hear, something to ease my conscience, and
make me feel that underneath it all, I
David Sedaris on Writing
Tell us what your characters look like with just a single unusual detail. The color of a character’s eyes or hair are facts that won’t necessarily define a character memorably. Look for the
unique details about that person. Are their nails bitten? Do they cut their own hair (and badly)?
Are their teeth perfect? Are their eyebrows over-tweezed?
Neil Gaiman on Writing - WRITING EXERCISE
While building your story, you want to encourage confluence. Go back to your compost heap and read over
your entries. See if anything you wrote there makes
you think of something else. Perhaps an entry will stir
an old memory, or make you think of something that
happened to you recently. The connections don’t have
to be logical—trust your instincts.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - economy
“The first place that I start is just with the idea that instead of being paid by the word, I am paying by the word, that the fewer words I can use to tell my story, the better, that compression, that economy, all of these things are good.”
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Jane Austen:
Jane Austen: Master of irony and dialogue, Austen’s
preoccupation with social divisions, and the witty and
insightful tone with which she reveals hypocrisy and
parodies people contributed heavily to her voice.
Neil Gaiman on Writing. Avoid technical mistakes:
If you’re writing about
the real world, get the facts straight. If you’re writing
a magical world, stay consistent with the laws of your
creation.
David Sedaris on Writing
“You need to be in the world and you need
to be engaged with the world. It’s my job to
collect jokes. It’s my job to collect startling
images. And so when I’m out in the world,
I’m at work. And I’m a professional.”
Neil Gaiman on Writing. Incorporate the familiar alongside the unfamiliar:
Keeping the reader grounded in things they recognize
is just as important as introducing new and interesting
elements.
Aristotle on endings
The end of your story is “that which itself naturally follows some other thing, either by necessity or as a rule, but has nothing following it.” A simple and obvious definition. But he goes on to say that the ending is everything — the most important element of the plot. Without a satisfying ending to your story, the audience that has invested their time and emotions will be left unsatisfied. And offering no closure to the characters and their arcs will leave them wanting more. While that notion is good for cliffhanger films that are building to a potential sequel, there still has to be some form of closure that defines the end. Where audiences can stop, knowing that the end presented “has nothing following it.”
Neil Gaiman on Writing - FOR YOUR NOVEL
Select a chapter from your work—ideally, your opening
chapter—and write down a list of the key questions
your reader will have after they’ve read it. What
questions have you raised? What will they want to
know soon? What are the bigger questions you’re
undertaking? These are promises you’re making to a
reader. Come back to the these promises at a later time
and make sure they’re fulfilled.
If you don’t already know your major dramatic
question, title a page in your journal “Major Dramatic
Question” and answer the following questions: What is
your big idea? What social messages lie beneath your
topic? What are the highest stakes for the protagonist
of your story? What is the primary question you are
raising for the reader (i.e. What issue do you promise
the reader you’ll resolve by the end of the novel?)
You are aiming to find a question that will sum up the
main storyline of your novel and will include your
main character and their goal. (If you’re writing The
Odyssey, that storyline will be: “Will Odysseus ever
make it home?”) Once you’ve found this question,
write it on a slip of paper and post it near your workspace. You will probably need to refer back to it along
the way.
David Sedaris on Writing
Diary Entry #1:
OCTOBER 21, 2019, COLUMBUS, OHIO
At last night’s signing I met a woman who’d just taken her family to a haunted house. “A ghost came up from
behind us and said to my twelve-year-old-daughter, ‘You smell different when you’re sleeping,’ ” she told me.
That is so perfectly creepy. I think that ghost deserves a raise.
This diary entry is often part of David’s live shows, where he reads a few pages from his diary on
stage. It’s possible it could be linked to something bigger and be part of a full essay at some point
in the future, but for now, it stands alone.
Diary Entry #2:
NOVEMBER 26, 2013, EMERALD ISLE, NORTH CAROLINA
Because I’ve accumulated so many miles, they bumped me up on the flight from Atlanta to Raleigh. I thought our
plane would be on the small side, but instead, perhaps owing to Thanksgiving and the great number of travelers, it
was huge. Usually, first class and coach are separated by only a curtain. But here, there was an entire galley between
them. I was seated on the very first row in front of a woman who looked to be in her early sixties and was letting her
hair go from dyed red to gray.
Shortly after settling in, she started a conversation with the fellow seated beside her. That’s how I learned that she
lived in Costa Rica.
“It’s on account of my husband,” she said. “He’s military. Well, retired military. Though you never really leave the
Marine Corps, do you?”
She started explaining how she went from North Carolina to Central America. But then the flight attendant came
to take a drink order from the guy beside me and I missed it. Just as I was tuning back in, a man across the aisle tried
to open his overhead bin. It was stuck for some reason. And he pounded on it, saying to whoever would listen, “This is
like Obamacare. Broken.”
Several of the passengers around me laughed. And I noted their faces. Vowing that in the event of a crisis, I would
not help lead them to an emergency exit. You people are on your own, I thought. Knowing that if we did go down,
it would probably be one of them who’d save me. Not that Republicans are braver or more clear-headed in times
of crisis than Democrats. Rather, it’s just my luck. After taking off from Atlanta, I pulled out my Japanese notebook.
Pretending to study, but actually listening to the woman behind me who continued to talk throughout the entire flight.
“And of course the cost of living is practically nothing compared to what it is here in the States—not that I don’t
miss anything.”
I guess she was drinking just as steadily as she was talking. Or maybe she’d gotten a head start during her layover.
She didn’t sound drunk exactly, but just shy of it. Loud and adamant. As if the person she was talking to wasn’t
listening correctly.
“I’m not saying I’ll spend the rest of my life there. That’s not what I meant at all. Well, what’s the rush as long as
we’re having fun, right?”
It was dark by the time we landed in Raleigh. And as we taxied to the gate, one of the flight attendants made an
announcement. The remain-seated-until-the-fasten-seatbelt-sign-has-been-turned-off part was to be expected. But
then she added that we had some very special passengers on board. Oh no, I thought. Please don’t embarrass me. I
was just wondering who the other important person might be when she said, “With us today is the outstanding soccer
team from Green Hope High School in Cary, North Carolina.”
The woman behind me applauded loudly. Cheering as she did. And when no one joined her, she raised her voice,
shouting, “You people are assholes. I mean, what the hell? You can’t even clap for a bunch of teenagers.”
19
I meant to applaud, but figured the team was back in coach. They wouldn’t have heard me one way or the other, so
what difference did it make?
“Pathetic,” the woman spat, sounding a little crazy now. “Too wrapped up in your smartphones and iPads to
congratulate a team of high school athletes.”
And you couldn’t say she hadn’t nailed us. Still, I had to bite my hand to keep from laughing. It’s so funny to be
called an asshole by someone who doesn’t know you, but then again, knows you so perfectly.
This entry from David’s diary is also something he’s read on stage. He considered fleshing out the
details to make it into a longer piece, but it isn’t details alone that build an essay. Once he began
turning the piece into an essay, he found that the story moved away from the plane incident and
toward meeting his family at their beach house after landing. As David wrote, he ended up surprising himself by finding that the essay veered toward the toxicology report that the family had recently
received about his sister’s suicide. The vignette became an essay called “A House Divided,” which
you can read in Calypso.
If you allow yourself to sit with and reflect on the things you write in your diary, you’ll start to see
ways that isolated moments might add up to something larger and fuller and more suitable for the
foundation of an essay.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Margaret Atwood
Her highly descriptive style is
inspired by her love for poetry, myth, folklore, and the
fantastic, and she weaves these elements into greater
themes of power, feminism, and technology to produce
a distinctly trenchant voice.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Voice
One of the voices most writers try to avoid is “writerly”
voice, which is an attempt to sound literary that can
come off as overwritten. This voice involves unnaturally complex sentence structures, too many adjectives
or rare words, and lengthy, unnecessary descriptions.
Unless a specific character is in fact pompous and
views the world that way, work instead to develop your
own voice. Don’t be afraid to be yourself, no matter
how quirky you are. Writing is one of the places where
your weirdness is welcome.
line edit
Once you’re happy with your draft, do a line edit.
This is not as deep as a regular edit. Here you’ll just
be looking at language, formatting, and style. One
good technique is to identify problem areas that you’d
like to improve, then mark all of those areas with a
colored highlighter. Set a goal for yourself to get the
entire manuscript back to colorless. Look especially for
sections where the writing seems different—maybe it’s
too sloppy, or something is overwritten—or sequences
where someone acted out of character. Search for
sections that are too heavy on dialogue, or too dense
with exposition, and try to balance them out. Let your
WRITING A SCREENPLAY IS A LONG PROCESS. USE THIS OUTLINE,
BASED ON SPIKE’S PROCESS, AS A BLUEPRINT WHEN YOU’RE READY
TO WRITE YOUR SCRIPT: -Spike Lee
Dedicate a notebook to your film. Jot down all the ideas that come to your mind—
characters, dialogue, plot twists, backstory, and the like. Continue to keep your
notebook, jotting down ideas as they come to mind.
• When your notebook is full, transfer the information onto index cards.
• Then organize the index cards in the order that you can visualize your
story unfolding.
• Begin writing your script with these index cards as a roadmap.
• Create a realistic writing schedule for your film, setting aside a certain number of
hours per day or week to write. During that time, eliminate distractions—especially
your cell phone.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “Everything that happens in the
living is going to wind up in the
fiction….You are going to need every
human being you ever meet.”
“Everything that happens in the
living is going to wind up in the
fiction….You are going to need every
human being you ever meet.”
David Sedaris on Writing
An essay or a story is more and does more than a short slice of life. A story includes a struggle that the listener relates to and becomes invested in. A story creates deeper involvement and
engages multiple emotions. And a story includes closure for the reader.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Make the stakes clear.
In any story, something of
consequence is at stake for your main character. It
could be as large as saving the universe, or as small as
keeping your family together. Make sure that you give
a clear picture of this to your reader. It doesn’t matter
what the stakes are, as long as they’re high for your
characters.
Lookbook -Spike Lee
Create a lookbook for your film. If you want to be
analogue, go through magazines and books and
tear out photos of what you’re drawn to and how
you want your film to feel. To go digital, consider
using Google Slides, Evernote, or Pinterest. These
visual references will greatly inform what you want
your story to look like and be of tremendous help in
describing the vision to a prospective DP.
David Sedaris on Writing
Portray yourself with honesty
When you’re writing a scene in which you’re
a main character, deploy one of David’s most
trusty humor tools: being harder on yourself
than any other character in the story. When you
make yourself a relatable character, your reader
will feel connected to you. Let go of thinking
about how you come across and just try to be
honest—learning how to laugh at yourself is
crucial.
COLLABORATING WITH
YOUR DIRECTOR OF
PHOTOGRAPHY -Spike Lee
— Be prepared to pitch your film to actors. Are you
able to tell them what your film is about in two
minutes? Rehearse your pitch over and over, so
that when opportunity knocks, you’ll be ready.
— As an independent filmmaker, there may be times
in which you can’t afford to hold a rehearsal for
your actors, but you need to build relationships
and shared history between characters. Once
you’ve cast your actors, you can ask them to
write letters to each other in character. You can
leave this open-ended or give them prompts to
inform their letter writing.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Neil’s advice for when you’re stuck:
Step away from the work and do something else for
a while.
• Return to your project and give it a fresh read.
Pretend you’ve never read it before. Start at the
beginning and read it through. This can make it
obvious where you’ve gone off track.
• Remember that your problem usually starts earlier
than the place where you’re stuck. Backtrack from
that place to find a scene or a story decision that
feels off.
• Listen to your characters. Don’t impose your previous plans on them. It’s a good idea to free-write a
conversation with your character. Ask them what
they need and listen to what they say.
• It can be helpful to create a deadline for yourself.
Time pressure can create focus and can force you to
make decisions that you may be avoiding.
• If you still can’t get past your block, write the next
thing you know in your story. It may happen five
chapters ahead of where you are, but you can bridge
that distance later. Just write.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Genres
Most genres will have a
“stock” lead character. A crime drama has an investigator, usually someone gritty, flawed, but eager to see
justice done.
The type of protagonist: Most genres will have a
“stock” lead character. A crime drama has an investigator, usually someone gritty, flawed, but eager to see
justice done.
Your antagonist: Genre will often determine how
badly your bad guy acts. A mystery villain may want
to murder a single person, but a thriller antagonist is
usually plotting to wipe out the human race.
Secondary characters: This category includes
anything from prominent sidekicks to unnamed minor
characters. In high fantasy, for example, readers will
be expecting elderly, magical helpers, while in crime
dramas, a sidekick is often a flat character.
Tone: Readers associate certain moods with certain
types of stories. Thrillers tend to be dark and engrossing, they very seldom include comedic elements.
The set-up: Most genres begin with expected set-up
scenes. In romance, you meet the two lovers, often
separately. In action adventure, you meet a hero in
the midst of doing something physically demanding or
heroic.
The catalyst: Early in most stories, a powerful change
will initiate the main conflict for your protagonist. In
horror, an innocent family might move into a haunted
house.
The resolution: The details of your story’s climax will
depend on your story elements, but genre will often
determine whether that climax turns out well for your
characters.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Kurt Vonnegut:
Famous for simplicity of language and
a dry wit, his voice has intelligence and a strong sense
of decency that comes from his concerns with social
equality. (His essay “How to Write With Style” offers
sound advice for any writer.)
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Give readers something they’re not expecting.
In
“October Tale”, Neil began with the conventions of
a fairy tale, the jinni in a lamp. Readers expect a few
things from this type of story: that the jinni will grant a
wish, and that whatever a person wishes for will turn
out badly for them or teach them a valuable moral
lesson. Instead, he undermined that expectation when
Hazel chooses not to wish for anything.Another thing readers expect from the
jinni-in-the-lamp tale is that the jinni, who has been
cooped up for thousands of years, wants freedom. At
the beginning of the story, Neil’s jinni gets free from
the dusty confines of the lamp, but his future is in
question: will he remain free from the curse that put
him in the lamp in the first place? The readers want to
know what becomes of this enslaved being, but instead
of having him break free of his magical chains, he finds
love with Hazel. This love is unexpected but manages
to satisfy the reader’s concerns about the jinni’s
happiness.
Aristotle on the middle
The middle of your story is “that which follows something as some other thing follows it.” That passage is a brilliant simplification of the second act. Some stories have a call to adventure while others merely present conflicts that characters must either act on or suffer the consequences. Regardless, the second act showcases the character following — or retreating from — whatever is presented at the end of the first act
Neil Gaiman on Writing. Focus on emotions that are true to your characters:
Your hero might be fighting an impossible beast, but
everyone will be able to relate to their fear.
Budget -Spike Lee
Before Spike writes a word of his script, he takes
into consideration how much money he can raise
to make the movie. He writes his scripts with that in
mind. If you write a script that you can’t realistically
shoot at this moment, shelve it until you can raise
the money needed to make it. Or, be ready to make
compromises that will allow you to make the film
for a realistic amount of money.
As an independent filmmaker, you’ll probably have
to make your budget yourself. To figure out how to
best spend the money that you have, seek out copies of budgets from other directors who have made
movies for an amount of money similar to what you
can raise.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Zora Neale Hurston:
Lyrical, spoken style of voice,
borrowing heavily from the dialects of her life and
experiences. Read Their Eyes Were Watching God
(1937) and you can hear the church hymns she grew up
with in the rhythms of her sentences.
COLLABORATING WITH
YOUR DIRECTOR OF
PHOTOGRAPHY -Spike Lee
Big mistake when you choose your DP based on a reel. Anybody can put together a one minute sizzle reel. Look at something they shot that has length to it
EDITING -Spike Lee
If writing is rewriting, then editing is surely a crucial component in shaping the story of a film.
Think of it like putting together the pieces of a
puzzle or chipping away at a sculpture until the
true shape of the work emerges.
Spike’s movies are layered and never about one
single thing, what he calls a “mixtape.” A good editor
can ensure your main story remains the main story
and doesn’t get too overwhelmed by subplots.
The edit room is also where you can uncover
improvised moments that were not scripted or
planned, but prove to be hidden gems.
Be resourceful in the edit to incorporate these surprises.
Spike works closely with his editors throughout
the production process, in particular his longtime
collaborator Barry Alexander Brown a.k.a. “The
Cut Creator.” For Spike, the editing process doesn’t
begin after he wraps the film. The process is happening simultaneously. Spike shows his editor the
dailies (raw footage shot daily) and gives him notes
on what works and does not. The editor then begins
cutting the film, showing Spike completed scenes
while the film is still in production. This process can
be essential when preparing for an early screening.
Seeing an early version of your film on the big
screen can also help you better see what’s missing
or where to trim the fat.
Hire an experienced editor, someone
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Neil suggests many tools for approaching an old
story from a new angle.
Change point of view: Choose an alternate character
to retell a familiar story. In the novel Foe (1986), J.M.
Coetzee narrates the tale of Robinson Crusoe from the
point of view of Susan Barton, a castaway who washed
up on the island in the middle of Crusoe’s adventures.
Modernize themes: A lot of classic tales get a gender-based upgrade, where an author will delve into a
female character’s head from a more modern perspective. Margaret Atwood’s novella The Penelopiad (2005)
revisits Homer’s Odyssey through the eyes of Penelope
and her chorus of twelve maids.
Switch a story element: This could mean taking a
story to a new location—Cinder (2012) by Marissa
Meyer re-imagines Cinderella as a cyborg in Beijing—
or changing the type of story—In The Snow Queen
(1980), Joan D. Vinge turns Hans Christian Andersen’s
classic tale into a space opera.
Make it yours: Take a familiar story and add in a bit of
your own background or experience. Mario Puzo did
this with panache in The Godfather (1969), bringing
elements of Shakespeare’s Henry IV to the world he
knew well: Italian immigrants in post-war America.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Consider using one of Neil’s humor techniques or any
of the ones Neil borrowed from Terry Pratchett:
Surprise the reader. Twist a cliché or undermine any
expectation you’ve set up.
• Put your funny expressions at the end of a sentence.
Humor is often a release of tension, so the sentence
builds that tension, and the pay-off happens most
naturally at the end.
• Use contrast. Are your characters in a terrifying
situation? Add something light, like a man obsessing
about his briefcase instead of the T-Rex looming
behind him.
• Find funny words. Some words are just funnier than
others, so make a list of those that amuse you the
most.
• Figgin—a story element that promises to be something horrible or disgusting but which turns out
to be humorous, and yet later has a pay-off, or a
moment where the item becomes important to the
plot.
• Sherbet lemon—minor details you put in a text to
make the reader smile. These small pulses are in the
text just for humor; they don’t necessarily have a
pay-off later
David Sedaris on Writing
• Describe your characters through their actions. How do they move in the world? If
they’re running, how do they run? How do they stand? Where do they go in a crowded room
at a party? Are they messy eaters? How do they speak to children? Would they ever pet a
strange dog? What would they order in a restaurant? Do they cross their legs every time they
sit down? Use an old glove to pump gas into their car because of a fear of germs? Do they
knock on wood?
Neil Gaiman on Writing - story
structure
Being stuck is the perfect time to dive deep into story
structure. Learning about the basic structures that
underlie most stories will often give you the tools you
need to carry on, and they will most likely save you
from numerous rewrites later.
Common wisdom holds that there are two types of
writers. Plotters are those who meticulously outline
every book before they write it, and pantsers are
those who fly by the seat of their pants, setting off into
a novel without a clear map. There are benefits to
both styles, and both types can get stuck at any point
in their writing. For plotters, problems arise when
their characters decide to do something they weren’t
expecting. It can be difficult to accept that your story
isn’t what you thought it would be, and there’s often a
tendency to force your way forward. Pantsers incline
toward a different problem: they get lost, usually in the
middle section of their work, because they haven’t got
a clear enough idea of where they’re going. Plotters
will benefit from a re-thinking of their story structure,
and pantsers will often benefit by building some of the
architecture their story needs.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - controlling idea
Maybe back in college you had to write an essay and
identify your controlling idea, the main argument
you were making. The same phrase is used in storytelling to describe the message that resonates with readers
at the climax of your novel. It can be positive or negative or even ironic, and it will come from you and your
beliefs about the world. For a full discussion of controlling ideas see Robert McKee’s chapter “Structure
and Meaning” in Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and
the Principles of Screenwriting (1997). McKee argues
that endings come in three forms: “up” endings express
optimism, “down” endings are pessimistic, and ironic
endings express “life at its most complete and realistic.” Like Neil, he believes you have one responsibility with
your controlling idea, and that is to tell the truth. Once
you find out what your controlling idea is (see the
writing exercise for your novel below) and you find
you don’t agree with it, toss it out and start again with
something honest
Neil Gaiman on Writing - editing
When you’re finally ready to go back to your manuscript, there are certain things you can do to maximize
your editing strength.
Pretend to be a reader. Be someone else entirely—
your best friend, your ideal audience member—but
read your book trying to imagine how they will see it.
Take notes on your re-read. It’s good practice to
print out a hard copy of your manuscript and read it
on paper (as most readers eventually will). This not
only gives you space to take notes on problem areas, it
makes a mysterious difference in how you read stories.
Ask what your story is about. In Chapter 5:
Developing the Story, you saw that the major dramatic
question usually involved the main character’s primary
desire. This will often be the driving force in your story.
For help determining what your story is about, go to
the Writing Assignments below to create a logline for
your novel.
OPEN YOURSELF UP TO A WRITING COMMUNITY
David Sedaris on Writing
Finding other writers and writing events in your community can make the writer’s life feel a lot less
lonely. If you’re not sure where to start with public readings, try looking up your favorite writers and
seeing if they’ll be doing a reading at a bookstore near you anytime soon. Local bookstores, and
particularly independent bookstores, have a calendar of events each month, from author readings
and signings to open mics and panels. If you live near a college or university, check their events
page to see if any writers will be swinging through.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - characters
I
n fiction there are two types of characters—flat
and round. A flat character is easy to spot. They
only have one or two characteristics that are relevant to the story. A round character has more complexity. The biggest difference between these two types of
characters is how much the reader understands of their
motivations. Round characters are simply those whose
motivations you choose to develop more lavishly in
your writing. While developing a round character’s
desires, keep the following points in mind
Neil Gaiman on Writing- WRITING EXERCISE
Choose a folk tale or fairy tale that you know well.
Select one of the characters from the story for the
following exercise and write a few pages about them,
using one of the following prompts:
• Pretend you’re a therapist treating the character.
Write a scene in which you discuss the character’s
life and problems, then arrive at a diagnosis.
• Write a newspaper article describing the events
of the story. For example, Snow White—Woman
Hiding in Woods for Ten Years Found by Wealthy
Hiker. Then write a story for that headline using
journalistic objectivity.
• Have your character explain their actions to a jury.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Create a map of your world
. No matter what kind of
artistic skills you have, actually drawing your own world
can make it more familiar and trigger fresh insights and
ideas
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Voice
While each writer has their own voice, sometimes a
story demands a voice of its own, called a persona,
which is different from the writer’s voice. The persona
is the voice that tells the story and can be any narrative
point of view from an omniscient, third person to a
close first person. You will generally find the persona
for a story in the same way you develop a setting or
characters. Neil gives three examples of persona in his
works:
• The “American transparent” in American Gods—
common among many authors, this style is so basic
that the author seems invisible. If style is made up of
“the things you get wrong,” then this style is technically perfect, clean, and conservative. It serves the
purpose of keeping the focus on the story so that
you might even forget that someone is telling a story.
• The old-fashioned “formal” voice in Stardust—any
writing style with syntax or vocabulary borrowed
from an earlier time period. Very often, premodern
ways of speaking or writing feel stilted to a modern
ear, and this style uses that quality, often to take you
back to a historical moment or to a different world.
• The cicerone in The Ocean at the End of the Lane—
this persona is informal, close, and often not very
literary. This style can mimic the feeling of being
with an actual person who is explaining their story
to you.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - compression
Attack wordiness: see how much you can cut and
still retain the original meaning and tone.
• Fine-tune your language by using select sentence
fragments—“Sounds great” is more natural than
“That sounds great.”
• Use contractions when possible—“we’ll go together”
is more comfortable than “we will go together.”
• Trim excess filler words, like “uh” and “well.”
• Remember it’s unusual for people to call each other
by name, so police those areas where your characters call each other by name.
• Also, not everything has to be verbal—body language is a real-life communication tool. Instead of
having your character shout “I hate you!”, show
them kick a chair.
• If your dialogue starts to feel repetitive, put your
characters in motion—walking, driving, or distracted by their environment.
Neil Gaiman on Writing. FOR YOUR NOVEL
Choose a page or scene from your work-in-progress
and analyze it for verisimilitude by answering the
following questions:
Are your descriptive details specific? Can you make
them sensory?
Is your character’s behavior in line with their personality? Do their responses make sense for them?
Can you fact-check anything? If so, do it now
Neil Gaiman on Writing - WRITING EXERCISE “I think it’s really important for a writer to have a compost heap. verything you read, things that you write, things that you listen to, people you encounter, they can all go on the compost heap. And they will rot down. And out of them grow beautiful stories.”
In your journal, begin creating a compost heap. Title
a page “Compost Heap” and write down the things
that have captured your attention in the past week
or month. These may become the source motivators
of your writing, maybe of your career. Any writing
project is an undertaking, and novels in particular,
because they take so long to write, will require a
sustained interest, so be sure to fill this page with your
truth: What interests you? This can be anything: a
word, a movie, a person, an event, so long as it inspired
you. It can be subjects (cactus species, muscle cars, a
voyage to Mars) or people/types of people (therapists,
spies, your Aunt Germaine). Try to include things from
other arts—for example, foods, music, or movies. In
the beginning, make a practice of sitting down at least
once a day to note things that interest you.
Neil Gaiman on Writing- Voice
Our writing will develop its own style and personality, or your writer’s voice. It is the sum of
all the elements of your work that would make
it possible for someone to pick up a page of text and
recognize that you wrote it. It is not necessarily your
speaking voice, rather it’s the voice that comes through
on the page. On a technical level, it is composed of the
choices you make regarding emotional tone, characters, settings, and the textual rhythms of your language
like diction, sentence structure, and even punctuation.
The sum effect of these things will be unique to you
and will reveal your personality and attitude to your
audience.
Aristotle Character I
Aristotle listed character as secondary to plot because “character determines man’s qualities, but it is by their action that they are happy or the reverse.” Thus, character comes in as subsidiary to the actions or plot.
Without a compelling plot, there is no action or reaction that will create a compelling character.
“Character is that which reveals moral purpose showing what kinds of things a man chooses or avoids.” Despite being listed as secondary to plot, characters are crucial to the development of the story. If readers and audiences aren’t compassionate for the main characters, the plot won’t matter. And if they’re not meant to be compassionate for them — which can be the case for biopics and anti-hero stories — they must still be engaged by the character. Either by intrigue, curiosity, or the pure entertainment of seeing a character do what normal humans can’t, won’t, or shouldn’t.
He also lists four things that should be aimed at in regards to character. Mind you, upon review of his text, he does list some dated concepts which point to the inferiority of women and how female characters should be void of valor as it is “inappropriate.” Even the greatest minds have their own flaws — even if it was a sign of the times and culture. Two words — Wonder Woman.
“What you’re doing is lying, but you're using the truth in order to make your lies convincing and true. You’re using them as seasoning. You’re using the truth as a condiment to make an otherwise unconvincing narrative absolutely credible.” -Neil Gaiman on Writing
Using the “lie” of a made-up story to reach a
human truth is one of the central tools of literature. Samuel Taylor Coleridge explained that in
order to sink into and enjoy a story, an audience must
have “poetic faith”—meaning that they must be willing
to accept that the story they are hearing is a facsimile
of reality. In order to encourage a reader’s “willing suspension of disbelief,” writers strive for verisimilitude.
(Today, Stephen Colbert would call this “truthiness.”)
The goal is to be credible and convincing. This can be
of a cultural type—a book that portrays the real world
is said to have cultural verisimilitude—or of the genre
type—a fantasy that portrays an imaginary world with
enough internal consistency that it feels real is said
to have generic verisimilitude. It doesn’t matter how
outlandish the world of your story is, it should feel real
to the reader.
Malcolm X and budget -Spike Lee
When making Malcolm X, Spike knew it
would take more than two hours to tell
the epic life story of the assassinated
Muslim leader and human rights activist.
He also knew he wasn’t going to have the money
to finish the film. When the crew inevitably ran out
of funds and the studio stopped production, Spike
asked prominent, wealthy members of the Black
community for donations to help him get the film
made. Early screenings of the film, combined with
the heavily publicized financial support, convinced
Warner Brothers to restart production. Spike even
put his fee for making the film back into the budget.
Spike’s story is a reminder that no matter how established you are, or how big of a studio is funding
your film, you may still have to pound the pavement
to raise more money.
Aristotle Thought
Aristotle defines Thought as “the faculty of saying what is possible or pertinent in given circumstances.” This is perhaps the most difficult element to interpret. Some point to it as theme. He goes on to say that “thought is found where something is proven to be or not to be.” One could argue that Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan questioned the theme of the glory of war that had been showcased in most World War II movies before it. His film clearly proved that no, there is no glory in war — just horror.
However, immense bravery and greatness can be found within the confines of that horror
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “Everything is driven by characters wanting different things, and by those different things colliding. Every moment that one character wants something, and another character wants something mutually exclusive, and they collide—every time that happens, you have a story.”
• Motivation is revealed in the choices someone
makes. The harder the choices, the more possibility
you have to reveal the character’s deepest nature.
• In choosing between good and evil, people will
always choose what they perceive to be good. You
must know your character’s mind in order to understand their beliefs and how they will justify their
actions—even the cruel ones.
• Conflict is essential for developing character. If
nothing is at stake, then a person’s choices don’t
matter very much, and the audience will begin to
lose interest.
• Ideally, your story should increase the conflict for
your character, so that their choices and responses
evolve throughout.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “Always know more than you tell.”
A popular adage for research is that worldbuilding
should be like an iceberg—90 percent of what you
learn or know will remain beneath the surface, only
10 percent should make it onto the page. Often, it will
only take a few small details to convince your reader
of the credibility of your world. For example, in The
Martian Chronicles (1950), Ray Bradbury introduces a
quiet night in a colony on Mars, where “here or there a
late supper was prepared in tables where lava bubbled
silvery and hushed.” Bradbury doesn’t explain why
lava is silver on Mars, or why it bubbles near tables, but
his confidence with this intriguing detail suggests to
readers that he knows his world extremely well.
Neil Gaiman on Writing. Take time to cover objections
: If something isn’t right
in your world, let your characters notice that it isn’t
right for them either.
Most of the time, truthiness is not something to strive
for, but in fiction it serves a higher purpose of conveying emotional truths to your reader in a way that
will entertain them, help them through difficult times,
make them think differently about the world, or even
change their lives.
To understand more about verisimilitude, study the
counterfactual genre. These books tackle “what if”
questions, such as “What if Hitler had won the war?”
They set their stories in a familiar reality that is twisted
in some meaningful way, coupling the familiar and
unfamiliar. The following books provide examples of
how writers can finely balance reality and imagination,
and transport their readers to amazingly believable
worlds
David Sedaris on Writing
Put yourself down
Be harder on yourself than you are on anyone else in a story.
NOVEMBER 13, 2015, SPOKANE, WASHINGTON
I was in a murderous temper yesterday. Part of it was lack of sleep, part was general tour fatigue, and part was left
over from the night before, when the producers in Olympia stuck me in a sweltering black box for my book signing.
Adam was supposed to collect me in Spokane at around noon but his flight from O’Hare to Denver was cancelled,
so instead he sent a car service to pick me up. The driver, a plump woman in her early thirties, met me at the baggage
claim, and when she asked how my flight was, I knew it was going to be a long ride. It’s not her fault, but I’ve had it
with small talk. The same lines day after day. I just can’t do it anymore.
I never caught her name, this woman. She wore a flat topped cap, and a hideous tan colored dress that looked like
she’d made it herself in the dark. On her left shin was a tattoo that was maybe four inches tall and looked freshly
done. “What is it, exactly?” I asked.
“Well, an anchor, obviously, surrounded by some scripture.”
“Hmmm,” I said.
She smiled. “I see you didn’t bring the sunshine with you!”
I gritted my teeth and was quiet until we got into her car, a big S.U.V that smelled like a Yankee Candle shop. “Do
you sew?” I asked as we headed into town.
“Me? Gosh no,” she said. “But that’s a funny question.”
I stayed at The Davenport. “How’s your day going?” the check-in clerk said.
“I’ve been here before,” was how I answered.
“Well welcome back. I wish you’d brought us some sunshine!”
I moaned.
This morning at breakfast I was escorted to a table by a beautiful young hostess.
“How are you?” she asked.
I said nothing.
“How are you?”
The third time she asked, I told her that I was no longer answering that question. “It’s just not important,” I said.
She gave me the look a person does when they work in the service industry and need to tell someone, as subtly as
possible, that he or she is being an asshole.
I returned her look with one of my own that said, “Actually, you’re the asshole.”
She walked away and as I lowered my napkin to my lap I noticed that my fly was down. Of course, I thought.
Adam was originally going to drive me to the airport at 8:20 this morning, but instead he changed his flight, so I
took a car driven by the same woman I had yesterday. “How was your stay?” she asked.
“Okay.”
“How was the show?”
“Fine.”
We were silent for a few minutes, and then I apologized for being in a bad mood. “I think I’ve been on tour too
long,” I told her. “I just can’t take the small talk anymore. Here it is, not even eight thirty and I’ve already been asked
how I am six times.”
She nodded.
“It’s just a lazy question,” I said. “Why not ask, I don’t know, ‘Have you ever donated bone marrow?’ or ‘What’s
the most you’ve ever spent on a pair of shoes?’ If the person you ask is in a bad mood it’ll still come back to bite you I
suppose. I guess there’s just no way to win.”
“I see your point,” the young woman said. “I’m not intellectual like you, so maybe I wouldn’t put it that way, but I
understand what you mean.”
8
“I’m not an intellectual,” I said. “Far from it.”
We were quiet again, and then I asked what she planned to do for Thanksgiving.
“I’m thinking I’ll get one of those kits,” she said. “The kind that has everything in them: the turkey and stuffing and
so forth, and then in the day I’ll maybe play football.”
“You play football?” I asked.
“Just tag,” she said. “Our family does it every year and I got boys.”
She seemed so young then. “How many?”
“Two,” she said. “One seven and the other eight.”
I asked their names and after she told me, and after I had winced, she turned onto the road that led to the Alaska
Air terminal. “My husband died nine months ago, so the holidays, they’re hard. I’m not sure if I should do the same
things we did last year or try something different, you know?”
If she was savvy, she’d say this every time she dropped someone off at the airport. It’s what I’d do—claim my
husband just died and rake in the tips— but she wasn’t like me. She wasn’t a snob or a grump, just a young widow in
an ugly dress who has two children and is trying to put one foot in front of the other. God, do I feel like an asshole.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Writers Block
“Start at the beginning and read it through. Very, very often, once you do that, where the story should be becomes obvious. Where you went off the rails becomes obvious. And you did go off the rails. The problem is always earlier.”
Writer’s block is often an overwhelming feeling
of being stuck. You’ve written part of a novel,
maybe you’ve even finished an outline, but you
just can’t move forward. Every time you sit down at
your desk, your mind goes blank, or you can’t decide
what to do next. This experience is common among
writers, and there are ample tools for working through
it. First, take a break from the work. Do something else
for a while, and return a few days (or week, or months)
later to view your draft with a fresh eye. Usually, your
problems come from an earlier decision you made in
the manuscript, so backtrack and look for any part that
feels off.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - trope
You’ll probably recognize most clichéd phrases—by
definition, they’re overused and easy to spot. Story
clichés are a little less obvious. These involve stock
characters, plot tools, and story structures that readers
have overdosed on. All clichés are dependent on your
age, background, and cultural context. Maybe comic
books are remarkably fresh to you the first time you
read one, but people who’ve read lots of them will spot
clichés more quickly.
A trope is a story element that any audience will
easily recognize. As Robert McKee points out in
Story: Substance, Structure, Style and the Principles of
Screenwriting (1997), “After thousands of years of storytelling, no story is so different that it has no similarity
to anything else ever written.” While a trope is an
element of storytelling, a cliché is when that element
has become overdone. Your storyline may have been
done before, but that shouldn’t stop you from doing it.
It simply means you’ll have to work harder to make the
story feel fresh.
Aristotle on episodic plotting
Aristotle points out bad plotting as being “episodic” where episodes or acts succeed one another, but without probable or necessary sequence. He says that bad writers stretch the plot or story beyond capacity, breaking the natural continuity.
In short, plots shouldn’t be overly complicated. They can be complex in their themes, but not at the expense of the core plot and characters.
As a bonus, Aristotle offered three parts of possible plots that writers can either choose from when plotting out a story or combine them to create an even better one.
KEEP WRITING NEW MATERIAL
David Sedaris on Writing
Writing ceaselessly is the only way to improve
your craft. Everything you write, even if it never
leaves the confines of your hard drive or your
notebook, is an opportunity to learn more.
Each page presents a new opportunity to try
something new or to try something you haven’t
mastered yet again.
Eventually you will build a body of work. Then,
stay open, say yes to opportunities, and imagine
every one of these opportunities leading you
farther down the path.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “It’s always a slightly strange process. Because there is something genuinely mad about it. If you are writing good characters, believable characters, glorious, larger-than-life characters—they do take on a sort of a life.”
A large part of real-life dialogue is non-verbal, and
these cues make their way into fiction through the
use of stage direction, which is any textual reference
to the physical movement of the speakers. The term
is borrowed from theater, where such directions are
necessary tools to help actors and directors envision
the physical set-up of a play. In fiction, stage directions
can often do just as much as dialogue to convey a
character’s mood, frame of mind, or responses. They
are highlighted in the sample below.
Scott came into the room and glanced
at the paper. “They misspelled ‘corpse’,”
he said, grabbing an English muffin and
shoving half of it into his mouth.
“It’s not corpse,” Leah said. “C-O-R-P is
short for ‘corporal.’” She was only eleven,
and for that Scott gave her a smack on
the back of the head.
“Hey!” she cried.
Dad lowered the paper and gave Scott a
warning look.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - FOR YOUR NOVEL
In your journal, write a list of the main character’s most
important desires. Beside each item, write down the
things that stand in the way of your character attaining
their desire. Consider especially how other people
stand in their way. Repeat this exercise for all of your
protagonists, if you have more than one.
Once you’ve decided on your character’s main desires,
begin to create an outline of those desires through your
story. This is called a throughline. Find each instance
in your story (or make them up now) when your
character either reveals their desire, gets thwarted in
attaining it, or changes their desire. Write each scene
on a separate index card or slip of paper and arrange
the cards in order. Look over the structure and ask
yourself: Is this progression working? Where does it
get stuck or seem to lag? Is there anything I can do
to make it have more impact? Rearrange the cards
and experiment with new scene ideas until you are
satisfied.
David Sedaris on Writing
In “The Perfect Fit,” an essay he wrote for a 2016 issue of The New Yorker, David gives
you an inside look at his shopping sensibilities:
Normally in Tokyo we rent an apartment and stay for a week. This time, though, we got a whole house. The neighborhood it was in—Ebisu—is home to one of our favorite shops, Kapital. The clothes they sell are new but appear to
have been previously worn, perhaps by someone who was shot or stabbed and then thrown off a boat. Everything
looks as if it had been pulled from the evidence rack at a murder trial. I don’t know how they do it. Most distressed
clothing looks fake, but not theirs, for some reason. Do they put it in a dryer with broken glass and rusty steak knives?
Do they drag it behind a tank over a still-smoldering battlefield? How do they get the cuts and stains so . . . right?
If I had to use one word to describe Kapital’s clothing, I’d be torn between “wrong” and “tragic.” A shirt might look
normal enough until you try it on, and discover that the armholes have been moved, and are no longer level with your
shoulders, like a capital “T,” but farther down your torso, like a lowercase one.
Jackets with patches on them might senselessly bunch at your left hip, or maybe they poof out at the small of your
back, where for no good reason there’s a pocket. I’ve yet to see a pair of Kapital trousers with a single leg hole, but
that doesn’t mean the designers haven’t already done it. Their motto seems to be “Why not?”
And later in the essay, after a week of shopping, David describes his family at lunch:
One afternoon toward the end of our vacation, settling into our seats at a tempura restaurant in Shibuya, I looked
across the table at Amy, who was wearing a varsity sweater from Kapital that looked to have bloodstains and bits
of brain on it, and at Gretchen, with her toilet-brush hat on. I was debuting a shirt that fell three inches below my
knees. It was black and made me look like a hand puppet. We don’t have the same eyes or noses, my sisters and I. Our
hairlines are different, and so are the shapes of our faces, but on this particular afternoon the family resemblance was
striking. Anyone could tell that we were related, even someone from another planet who believed that humans were
as indistinguishable from one another as acorns. At this particular moment in our lives, no one belonged together
more than us.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “You may need to write about types of people who you do not know. And for them, my advice to anybody starting out is just go find them, go talk to them. Talk to people.”
In terms of developing characters, Neil practices a
two-pronged approach. On the one hand, you should
listen to and trust your characters. You’ll need to know
what they want, and be flexible enough to accept that
their wants might change, and that your novel may
take on new dimensions or move in directions that you
weren’t expecting. On the other hand, you should also
research characters. Go out and meet people to feed
the compost heap that helps develop your cast. Being a
good writer is knowing the times when you are being
called upon to imagine, and when you need to immerse
yourself in new things.
David Sedaris on Writing
Writing is often described as a solitary pursuit—but it doesn’t have to be.
Going to author readings as well as finding places to read your own
work is an extremely important part of the writing process. If reading
your work in front of strangers sounds too intimidating for the time being,
consider joining a writing group or starting one yourself with a few writerly
friends. Use the group as a space to read aloud, give (and receive) critical
feedback, and expand your craft.
Neil Gaiman on Writing. Provide specific, concrete sensory details:
You can
make up an underground tunnel that doesn’t exist, but
if you describe the smell of sewage and the persistent
dripping of water, you draw your reader into a concrete experience that contributes to the sense of reality.
Casting III -Spike Lee
While it’s true that having the right actor attached
to your film can help get the project financed, as an
upstart director, you may not have the connections
to get a script into the right hands. In the event you
meet an actor on the fly, have a 30 second pitch for
your film already prepared. “You really can’t be
shy,” Spike says.
On the flipside, if you don’t get your first choice
actor for a role—especially if it’s a big star—don’t despair. Oftentimes a lesser-known actor will surprise
you—and it will work out for the better.
Spike cast Topher Grace in BlacKkKlansman at the
urging of his longtime agent. Even though Spike was
skeptical at first, Grace proved himself to be a great
fit for the role. Spike encourages you to be open to
letting the actors make what you wrote better—take
your ego out of it and give them at least one take to
try it their way.
Finally, when you have a strong instinct about
someone being right for the role—like Spike did with
John David Washington—follow your gut. Even if it’s
risky.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “You are going into yourself. And you have to not be afraid of yourself. You have to be willing, if you’re writing a murderer, if you’re a bad person, to go and find that part of you that is the bad person, that is the murderer, that would take pleasure in this thing, and go, okay, what would you say? What would you do? Who are you?”
Ideally, your characters will be distinct enough to be
memorable, but for all those minor characters who are
emerging in your novel, it’s good practice to provide
hints that will help the reader distinguish who each
character is, so they can remember their various story
arcs. Neil often gives his secondary characters a quirk
to make them unique and memorable—and thus easily
recognizable. He calls these traits funny hats and they
include:
Physical quirks: In Neverwhere, Old Bailey wears a
coat of feathers.
Verbal style: Mr. Croup is characterized by his
loquaciousness.
A memorable name: If it feels right, move your character out of “Jill” territory and into something different:
Lady Door Portico.
Extended metaphor: Richard Mayhew thinks Mr.
Croup is fox-like, and this imagery recurs throughout
the novel.
Past event: Sometimes a minor character is bestknown by a single life event, such as “the girl whose
family died” or “the widower.”
“The process of writing good dialogue is a listening
process. It’s the process of: you write the line
before, and then you listen, and find
out what comes back at you.”
When he’s developing characters, Neil doesn’t
make lists of personality traits. He approaches
character by listening to the way people speak
and to what they say, and his characters emerge from
the content of their speech.
Dialogue serves the triple purpose of revealing character, advancing plot lines, and providing entertainment.
Neil’s years as a journalist gave him experience
listening to people talk. In transcribing quotes, he
learned both to be attentive to the styles and rhythms
of individual speakers as well as the skill of rendering
natural speech into its more formal, written counterpart: textual dialogue.
People don’t speak in real life like they do on the
page, so there’s an art to writing speech to make it feel
real. One of its important tools is compression. By
trimming down your characters’ speech (unless they’re
loquacious, like Mr. Croup), you can convey realistic
sounds without dulling the reader. Take a section of
your own dialogue and experiment with cutting it
using any of these tools.
David Sedaris on Writing
• Show us who a character is through the use of dialogue. Dialogue can reveal so much about
a character. Do they ask a lot of questions? Do they complain about everything? Use too many
adjectives? Ramble? Cut other characters off when they speak? Use demanding phrases? Say as
little as possible? Repeat themselves?
Neil Gaiman on Writing - “light
brushstroke”
As you saw in Chapter 5: Developing the Story, one
of the keys to keeping a reader’s interest is to get
them to ask questions about your characters and the
situations they face. A common technique for doing
this is withholding information, giving the reader just
enough to help them understand what’s going on, to
hint at dangers or a possible situation, but not giving
the full story. By painting your story elements in “light
brushstrokes,” you give the reader a clear picture but
withhold just enough to keep them guessing at what
will happen next. In her book Word Painting (1999),
Rebecca McClanahan calls this the “striptease” method
of drawing out information. Give the reader one detail
at a time, luring them toward a greater picture.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Consider withholding information.
By revealing
details slowly over the course of a scene, you can generate curiosity and interest in your reader
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Avoid clichés and rip-offs.
You may absolutely love
Tolkien’s Middle Earth, but it’s been re-hashed shamelessly
for decades, enough to have become a cliché of its own.
When the camera’s rolling, that’s really to me a sacred moment. You should hear nothing but the actors. -Spike Lee
M
Make no mistake: There is an art to running a
smooth set. Doing so requires a combination of professionalism, leadership, good
humor, and respect for the crew on the
part of the director. This sets the tone for the entire
production and crew.
At the beginning of each shoot day, Spike gathers
his crew—the camera person, the first AD, the key
grip, gaffer, and script supervisor—to discuss the
day’s schedule. This way, everyone is on the same
page about what needs to happen and the team
can better transition from shot to shot.
Lay down the ground rules early on. For example,
Spike insists upon a respectful silence during takes
and even set ups, as the actors could be rehearsing.
Lastly, surround yourself with a diverse crew. An
inclusive set not only ensures there will be a variety
of cultures and opinions, it also means pushing the
needle of progress forward in Hollywood.
Aristotle Song
Because Aristotle’s text was written in reference to plays, the music played a key part in the storytelling. For screenwriters, you never want to dictate particular song choices — or more specific, you never want to build your entire story around a specific set of songs. Why? Because if you put so much story stock into certain songs, what happens when it goes to a studio that doesn’t have the rights to those songs? It’s okay to mention a song in passing and it’s certainly okay to listen to songs for inspiration, but as soon as you incorporate them into your work, it’s a battle not worth embarking on if you luck out and your script garners attention.
That said, music itself can play a vital part of your conceptual process as you begin your visualization of the story. Listening to and creating temp soundtracks taken from the musical scores of other films can give writers emotional context and atmosphere while writing. Much like the music from a play or silent film. So consider incorporating musical scores into your process. You’ll be pleasantly surprised by the outcome.
STORYTELLING WITH
CAMERA COVERAGE -Spike Lee
Spike’s philosophy about film as movement makes
sense considering some of the camera techniques
he and DP Ernest Dickerson employed have become signature. When Spike was shooting Malcolm
X, the slain leader’s widow revealed her husband
had a hunch there would be an attempt on his life
during his speech at the Audubon Ballroom.
To convey the emotion Malcolm may have felt in that
moment, Dickerson suggested a double dolly shot,
in which Denzel sits on a dolly and is being pulled,
giving the illusion that Malcolm is in deep thought,
moving through space and time as the world—and
possibly his mortality—passes him by. It’s risk-taking
techniques like these that give a director style and
distinction.
Spike is known to try different techniques in his
work. For example, sometimes it’s quicker and
more interesting to shoot a scene with multiple
actors in one take, such as what he did in Mo’ Betta
Blues, as opposed to setting up individual shots
with each actor which can take the lion’s share of
your day. In 25th Hour, Ed Norton’s character talks
to himself in the mirror, however when the camera
faces him, the actor appears to be speaking directly
to the audience. This is a cinematic technique called
breaking the fourth wall.
COLLABORATING WITH
YOUR DIRECTOR OF
PHOTOGRAPHY -Spike Lee
A cinematographer—also known as a Director
of Photography (DP)—is the person responsible for creating the look of your film. When
you find a DP who understands and can capture your vision, it is a relationship worth keeping.
A good DP will elevate your vision, and introduce
ideas and concepts you as the director may not
have considered. It’s no coincidence many directors and cinematographers work together repeatedly, such as Steven Spielberg and Janusz Kaminski
or Spike and his NYU classmate Ernest Dickerson,
who shot six of his films.
Make sure you do your homework before you hire
your DP. While their resume is important, audition
them the same way you would an actor.
Do not be
afraid to ask questions such as how do they envision your project, do they have thoughts about color, lighting, and camera movement? Do they work
quickly? All of these queries are pertinent to finding
the right person for your project.
When you have made the hire, communication
with your cinematographer is key. Before you start
shooting, go through the script scene by scene and
create a plan of action.
Get the most fundamental
shots before pursuing the more ambitious ones, yet
be flexible and to allow your DP room for improvisation and inspiration.
David Sedaris on Writing
Be a beginner Even the most seasoned and successful writers doubt themselves at times. Learning to trust yourself and your writerly instincts comes with time. You will feel lost, and that’s normal. You have to write through it. There is no reason to expect to be published right away or to expect to see improvement right away—let yourself be new at it, and commit to growth over time. If you started playing the piano, you wouldn’t expect to perform at a concert in two weeks or two months. It takes time to write well.
Aristotle Character II
It [the character] must be good. You could argue that not all main characters can be defined as good, but they must at least have some good traits for the audience to latch on to. He further states that “the character will be good if the purpose is good.” This notion is an excellent way for writers to find the center of their protagonists. If they are trying to do something good, that can and should reflect on their actions and reactions. You can also reverse that for antagonists and villains. If they are trying to do something bad, that can and should reflect their actions and reactions as well.
Propriety. Again, his dated feelings towards slaves and women should be discluded in the context of contemporary times, but the details or rules of behavior conventionally considered to be correct should reflect on whatever character that you choose to write. A police officer should do all he can to abide by the law. A lawyer should do all she can to adhere to the law and seek out justice. While this element can be bent and played with, the contemporary point is that writers should be true to the types of characters they choose to feature.
True to life. Similar to propriety, characters should be written in a realistic fashion that audiences can relate to. How many times have you watched a movie or television show and reacted to a character moment by saying or thinking, “Come on, no one would do that.” Exceptions to this rule would clearly be found in the horror genre where victims make questionable choices as far as where they go and what they do. Don’t answer the door!
Consistency. He muses that some characters should be consistently inconsistent, meaning that if you, the writer, commits to character flaws, those character flaws must be consistent throughout the story. Unless, of course, the character eventually gains knowledge to rectify those flaws. Regardless, characters must be consistent in their personalities, actions, and reactions in order to create a reliable vessel for the plot.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Follow your character’s natural attention.
Most
people take in their surroundings with a traveling gaze,
so imagine where their attention will rove. Looking
at the world through their eyes in a plausible way will
add a subtle effect of believability.
Neil Gaiman on Writing - Raymond Chandler
Famously wry, full of wisecracks, and partial to pithy similes, Chandler’s voice
grew tougher over time, thanks to his increasing
disillusionment and social criticism. His alienation and
bleakness came to epitomize the noir genre. Read The
Long Goodbye (1953) for the richest of his work.
Stand up apatow
Judd suggests that you watch stand-up if you want to perform it. Learn by observing, then develop your own angle.
Judd believes that stand-up gets better as it becomes more personal—that comics who lay themselves bare to the audience
are often the strongest performers. The same is true of comedic writers. He sees Knocked Up (2007) as the first time he became comfortable with drawing upon his own life for material. Judd contends that when you are being personal as a comedian, you are actually expressing your opinion about something or highlighting
an absurdity in your own life. He gives the following example: One
of his two children has gone to college. His remaining daughter is unhappy that she is the only one left in the house with Judd and his wife, because four people is a family, but three people is a child
observing a weird couple. Judd calls this a short observational joke. Judd has learned that the audience will cue a comedian as to which part of a joke is relatable, understandable, and meaningful. You get
the most laughs when the audience recognizes themselves in your
story or joke.
Your job as a stand-up comedian is as much writing as it is performing. You need to be disciplined in your writing, dedicating
a few hours each day to sitting at a desk and writing jokes. To kickstart your joke-writing process, come up with a topic and
write down as many jokes about it as you can think of. You’ll likely use only one or two of them, but you need to write a lot in order to find the true comedic gold.
You can turn one joke into many by building a story around a basic punch line. Once you know the core of the story, you can illuminate different parts of it. For example, in his Netflix special, Judd tells a story-form joke about throwing the first pitch at a Mets game.
He identifies his punch line: he threw the baseball very badly. To build a story around that punch line, Judd describes
every moment leading up to the pitch, relating to the audience his nervousness and confusion prior to the throw. Judd also brings in a visual—an utterly ridiculous photo of himself throwing the ball— which he analyzes in depth. All of these different components added up to a 10-minute story-form joke.
Acts are built incrementally, and Judd sees many similarities between writing a screenplay and developing an act. Both require first drafts, rewrites, and rounds of edits. Judd thinks of a stand-up act as a speech that is written line by line over a number of years, to which you methodically add and subtract jokes.
Stand up Apatow
When Judd decided to perform stand-up comedy after a long
hiatus, he watched Patton Oswalt’s acts to jog his memory for
writing jokes. Watch Oswalt’s stand-up and see what you think.
• Watch or listen to some of your favorite comedians’ stand-up
and pay attention to the anatomy of their jokes. How do they
set up ideas, and how are those ideas transformed into
punch lines? Record your observations in your comedy journal.
• Watch Judd’s special Judd Apatow: The Return on Netflix. Pay
special attention to how he opens his act, how he transitions
from joke to joke, and how he closes his special.
• Judd discussed the essence of the story-based joke with
comedian Mike Birbiglia. Watch Birbiglia’s stand-up, keeping
an eye out for how he tells his own comedic stories.
• Judd cites Sarah Silverman as an example of a comedian who
has become more personal in her jokes over time, and as a
result, her stand-up act has grown stronger. Watch one of the
earliest of Silverman’s stand-up acts that you can find, then
watch one of her most recent acts. How has she grown? In what
ways have her jokes become more focused on her personal life?
Take notes in your comedy journal.
• For the stand-up comedian:
–Judd Apatow
Write an observational joke, similar to the one in the chapter review. Analyze one of the primary relationships in your life—with a partner, child, boss, employee, or friend—searching for humor in a basic
observation about it. Make sure your observation is not dependent on context or knowledge the audience won’t
have—for example, it shouldn’t be an inside joke that only people in your line of work will understand. Once you have written your short observational joke, share it with your classmates in The Hub.
• Begin to build a story around a punch line. Think about the funniest thing that has ever happened to you, and
identify the core of that story. Then illuminate different parts of the story by describing the situation and your
feelings in detail. What were all of the events that led to that moment? Write down ideas in your comedy journal.
You’ll continue to build around the punch line in the assignment for Chapter 4: Performing Stand-Up Comedy.
• Continue to build around the punch line you came up with in the assignment for Chapter 3: Writing Stand-Up Comedy. Now think of five more ways to approach the story. Examine everything about the situation. Read all of your jokes (each of which should illuminate a different part of the story and support the basic punch line) aloud. Time yourself. How long is this story?
Keep writing new jokes from different angles to stretch out the length of your story-form joke.
Stand up–Judd Apatow
Becoming a good stand-up comedian means spending a significant amount of time on stage. Early on in his career,
Judd realized how important it is to take advantage of every opportunity to be on stage, even if it’s merely to keep the
audience’s attention for the 20 seconds in between acts. He used these moments to try out new material.
Judd suggests dealing with stage nerves by talking to the audience
as if you’re just having a conversation with them, instead of focusing on getting laughs—this will likely be more enjoyable
for everyone, including you. Make it your goal to simply be worth hearing. Performing on stage is about more than telling jokes—it’s about creating a persona. You want the audience to connect to your character, not just to what you’re saying. If your act is not going as planned, embrace it.
Learn to look at your nerves from a different perspective and lean into the bomb. Keep in mind that as a comedian, you don’t have to be funny atcevery moment. You can work your relationship with the audience in many ways. Judd says that you might want to make the audience
unhappy or deeply uncomfortable, then pivot back to comedy.
It’s a viable technique, and you’d be in the company of Andy Kaufman and Norm Macdonald in trying it. When Judd was young, he was told by veteran comedians that it would take seven years to
shape his comedic persona, so get comfortable with the fact that
for a long time, you’re probably going to suck. Be patient and keep
working.
Personal Comedy–Judd Apatow
It’s hard to believe, but early in his career it never occurred to Judd
to mine his personal life for material. Now excavating his own neuroses has become a hallmark of Judd’s films and television
shows. Think about personal moments in your own life and see if you can apply them to your comedic characters or plotlines. The moment can be as mundane as eating a grilled cheese sandwich
and chocolate cake while watching television, something Judd did
consistently in his youth and which he and creator Paul Feig wrote into Bill Haverchuck’s character on Freaks and Geeks.
Judd likens taking movie-worthy moments in his life and reworking them for the screen to making cinematic “soup”;
everything you remember, all the things you’ve heard, and the
moments you’ve observed are the ingredients. Combine them, and
make adjustments to help spark ideas for a film or a television show Judd’s approach to developing a story based on real life—either his or someone else’s—is simple: start with the truth.
When developing the protagonist’s journey and plot for the first season of Crashing, Judd sat down with creator and star Pete Holmes to discuss the details of his personal life and why he wanted to become a comedian, in order to suss out the essence of the protagonist, who was based on Holmes. Then, Judd and Holmes tried to figure out what would get people invested in watching the show.
They realized that viewers would watch to see if the protagonist could find a way to succeed, and that helped them
write multiple plotlines that fueled the television show across several seasons. Judd advises you not to get too attached to your episode ideas, as some of the plotlines you come up with might
be thrown out the window in service of the larger thematic story goals. But so be it—it’s just part of the development process.
Another tactic for developing story ideas that draw upon your life experience is to start with the kernel of an idea from a situation in your own life, and tailor it to fit the personalities of your characters (and actors if you have them already). For example, Seth Rogen once pitched a complex idea for a comedy to Judd, who in turn told Rogen that he didn’t need such an intricate story to be funny—he was hilarious all by himself. In fact, Judd told Rogen, it’d be funny to see you do something as simple as accidentally getting a woman pregnant and watching you deal with the aftermath. Thus, the idea for Knocked Up was born (pun intended).
Writing Stand up –Judd Apatow
• Identify a particularly challenging, amusing, or humorous story from your life (or pick one from your friends’ questionnaires from Chapter 5: Developing Life Into Story). Imagine who would be the worst possible person for it to happen to. How would that person handle it? What about his/her personality would
exacerbate the situation? How can you design the situation to deliver maximum conflict and, consequently, comedy? Take notes in your comedy journal and use what you’ve come up with as additional
material for your class project.
• Television and film provide writers with the unique opportunity to show the mundane, strange, and inherently hilarious actions we all perform on a daily basis, often times in private. Think about a habit—like Judd’s eating grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate cake at the same time—that is natural to you but might be completely ridiculous to an outside observer. Come up with five of these kinds of behaviors in your own life, write them on index cards, and file them away for use in
a later assignment.
• Write a 30-second bit for your stand-up act. Analyze one of your odd behaviors or habits, or one of your most embarrassing moments. Then try performing it,
imagining you are the emcee at a comedy night and this 30-second spot is meant to be a segue and introduction to the next comedian. Record your performance and upload it in The Hub for peer review. If you feel inclined, offer your classmates constructive feedback on their acts as well.
Comedy and Drama–Judd Apatow
When you’re writing a comedy, Judd recommends approaching it as
a drama. Your story should be strong enough to stand alone, sans
jokes. Judd feels that love and the obstacles those in love encounter
are at the root of every story, comedic or not. Keeping this in mind as you write will help you develop your plot and characters.
Everyone is stumbling blindly through life, trying to figure out how to live, find love, and work through their problems while
being forced to learn along the way. This happens to the characters in Knocked Up, and it should happen to your characters, too. The stakes in comedy need to be high, otherwise the audience simply won’t care about the characters. Stakes consist of what your protagonist is worried about, what he or she is trying to attain, or what he or she stands to lose.
Comedy is the result of the mishaps and misadventures along the way. Your characters must learn a lesson, otherwise there is no story. A good story is reinforced by rich supporting characters. As a comedic writer, specificity is your best friend. The details are what make a story funny and unique.
In The 40-Year-Old Virgin, much of the comedy is in the distinctive setting and character quirks. Everyone has a boss, but
the 40-year-old virgin’s boss is inappropriately sex obsessed. Most
stereo stores have something displayed on the televisions at all times, but only in Judd’s film does an incessantly played Michael McDonald DVD drive Paul Rudd’s character crazy. The best way for a film or show to be original is to be specific. Try to tack onto your stories what Judd calls a grace note, a moment or line of dialogue that expresses a human truth which touches the heart of the viewer, but stays true to the sense of humor and personality of the character(s) involved.
Case studies –Judd Apatow
Look back at your first assignment from Chapter 6, Case
Studies: Developing Life Into Story. You should have paired a challenging, amusing, or humorous situation with a person who is perfectly unsuited to deal with it. We’ll call this your comedic “premise.” Now, ask yourself—What are the dramatic underpinnings of this premise? What is at stake for the person involved? What do they want and/or what are they trying to accomplish?
What are the obstacles they face? How do their flaws exacerbate the situation? If stakes do not exist, how can you introduce them? If dramatic elements are not
present, how can you incorporate them? If the person in question is not flawed, what flaws can you give them?
The incorporation of these additional elements will help transform the situation from a comedic premise into a story that “has a reason to exist.” To use Judd’s example as a point of reference, the premise for The 40-Year-Old Virgin is just what the title implies; a man who has not had sex by the time most people have. But Judd and his writing partner, Steve Carell, approached it as a story about shame, embarrassment, and the human desire for fulfillment and connection. Take notes in your comedy journal and use what you’ve come up with as additional material for your class project.
“A lot of times jokes don’t work because you can tell that joke is just there because it’s a joke. And it didn’t come from character or the situation. Someone’s just hammering a funny line in. But the jokes always work much better when, in your gut, you know that character would say that.” —Judd Apatow
Once you know who your characters are at their core, it’s much
easier to write what they’ll say on screen. Each character in a scene
wants something. Oftentimes the wants and needs of one
character will conflict with those of another. Judd suggests you
think of dialogue as a mask that your characters wear to conceal
their genuine feelings. Why might a character act cocky? Because
on the inside, he’s terrified. Why does Steve Carell’s character lie
in the poker scene in The 40-Year-Old Virgin? Because he wants his
co-workers to think he’s cool and to keep his secret from them.
Your characters’ jokes should be rooted in their personality and
demeanor. Moreover, the uniqueness of a character should drive
the jokes he or she tells. If you don’t know in your gut that your
character would make a particular joke, then it’s not going to ring
true. If you’re at a loss for how a character would respond to
something, start by asking yourself what you would say in that
situation. Then refine it so that it fits with the voice of your
character. Jokes are powered by the distinct qualities and
temperament of a character. When you approach dialogue through
this lens, the character’s lines will always be original and fresh.
Read your dialogue aloud as much as you can so you get a sense of
how the scenes will work when brought to life.
structure –Judd Apatow
The structure of The 40-Year-Old Virgin maps very closely to Syd
Field’s model. The first act is 30 pages and serves as the “Setup” in which Steve Carell’s character, Andy, is introduced. There are strong visual cues—a bachelor pad full of action figures, breakfast for one, his reticence around colleagues—all of which signal exactly who the character is. Toward the end of the first act, the inciting incident takes place, or as Judd says, “a problem lands” when all of Andy’s coworkers discover that he is a virgin.
The second act, or “Confrontation,” spans from pages 30 through 90 and consists of two separate sections. The first section, pages 30 through 60, revolves around Andy’s coworkers’ quest to help him lose his virginity. By the midpoint of the movie that has failed and Andy takes things into his own hands by pursuing a relationship with Catherine Keener’s character, Trish. The second section of the Confrontation, pages 60 through 90, follows the unfolding of their relationship. The third act, or “Resolution,” occurs between pages 90 to 120. This part of the screenplay focuses on the meltdown Andy has when he realizes that he actually has to sleep with his girlfriend, and the arguments that follow. In the end, he reveals that he is a
virgin and Trish decides that’s something she can handle. They have sex, and this is followed by a big musical dance number to
“Let the Sunshine In” from Hair.
The ending is just as important as the beginning, and every scene
in between should serve a purpose in the story. Judd recommends identifying all possible endings to your film and choosing the one closest to your heart that also leaves the audience with the
message you hope to impart.
Character Arcs–Judd Apatow
If you’re attempting to crack problems with story or character arcs,
think about where your “set pieces”—energetic, extended sequences that contain the film’s biggest laughs—should be placed. A set piece in Knocked Up, for example, is Seth Rogen’s and
Paul Rudd’s characters taking magic mushrooms before a Cirque du Soleil show. Judd has found that about every 10 to 15 minutes in a film, he wants something “special and hysterical” to happen—a
“tear down the house” moment. This helps him figure out the pacing and placement of his set pieces. There’s one rule you should
follow regarding set pieces: you need one in the last 10 minutes of the film. A film’s resolution needs to be as funny as its best scenes.
Sometimes a comedy’s structure can be unconventional, like that
of Funny People, which takes an unexpected turn halfway through
the movie in order to reveal a more complete picture of Adam Sandler’s character, George. Instead of adhering to a
traditional structure in which George would get sick and then get better, thereby resolving the conflict and ending the movie, Judd wrote a narrative in which George’s character is even more messed
up after he recovers his health.
Right when a conventionally structured movie with this story would end, Judd has George pursue an ex-girlfriend on whom he cheated. Seth Rogen’s character, Ira, comes with George on his journey, which of course blows up. At that point, Funny People becomes about whether or not George and Ira will salvage their friendship. The film’s structure doesn’t really set the audience up to root for George. Rather, it paints a picture of the human condition
Stand up workshopping
• Workshop your five-minute act with an audience of
friends to test out your material. Also feel free to pitch
them jokes you’ve been mulling over for a while but
haven’t quite perfected. Listen to their ideas and
feedback—but remember, you are the ultimate decider
about what goes in your act.
• Record yourself performing your five-minute act and
share the video in The Hub for peer review. Learn what’s
working and what isn’t, then change or add material
accordingly. After you’ve tweaked the act based on your
fellow classmates’ notes and your friends’ feedback,
practice, practice, practice, then take it to an open mic
night.
“It’s emotionally very taxing to be an actor. And it is a gift. They are giving you a gift. They’re giving you a piece of themselves. So a set should be built around respecting that.” —Judd Apatow
Actors have the difficult job of being emotionally vulnerable on
camera, and as a director you have to show them great respect.
On set, Judd tries to maintain a pace at which no one feels rushed.
When actors feel rushed, bad acting happens. Setting expectations
up front helps build confidence, so Judd lets the actors know before
the camera is rolling that they will begin with a couple of takes
to find the scene. When they know how to prepare and that they
have a few chances, an energy comes to the scene that brings about
great performances.
Judd learned from David Mamet’s book on directing that giving
actors detailed prescriptive direction doesn’t work. You have to be
subtle. Respect your actors and their ideas, and be truthful with
them. They want to be able to trust your judgment. Take the time
to build rapport before the shoot. Don’t force actors to work in a
style that doesn’t allow them to deliver their best performances.
Respect their individual processes and adapt your directing style to
accommodate them.
Writing Habits –Judd Apatow
Writing habits are completely personal—some people thrive in a group setting like a writers’ room, while others need solitude. Judd likes both, for different reasons. What’s essential is that you force yourself to actually write. Don’t just sit there and think about writing. Habits such as writing at the same time every day can
support your workflow and create an ideal environment for you to have that lighting-bolt moment of creative inspiration.
Also know that part of the writing process is giving your brain time to work.
Even if you’re not working, your brain is working on your story. Trust it and allow it to do so. Once he has a draft, Judd likes to read his script aloud in order to spot what is and isn’t working.
DIRECTING: TONE “I’m generally going for realism. There might be a color palette. There might be a sense of ‘let’s have this movie be a little colorful and fun.’ Or another time, we might say, ‘No. It’s just totally real.’” —Judd Apatow
Judd recommends that you begin establishing the tone of your film
in preproduction. Sometimes it’s helpful to compare your film to
existing ones so the people working on it understand the world in
which it exists. Is it straight realism or is it something more
conceptual? Setting the tone early on in the process will help
everyone working on the project, from the actors to the costume
designer. Tone might continue to develop throughout production,
all the way through shooting. Part of the director’s process is
deciding whether a scene adheres to that tone. If it doesn’t, cut it or
adjust accordingly.
Film characters
–Judd Apatow
• Write detailed backstories for all the major characters in your story. Really take the time to flesh out who they are by asking yourself: What are their psychological underpinnings? Where do they come from? Why do they conduct themselves the way that they do? What do they want? The more details you have the better. Now look back at what you’ve written in your first draft and see how these details can be incorporated into the characters’ interactions.
• Pick three characters from the first draft of your screenplay and analyze how you introduce them. Are these the strongest possible introductions that these characters can have? Challenge yourself to rewrite these scenes in a way that highlights the characters’ distinct
personalities and senses of humor in the most impactful way possible.
Developing character
–Judd Apatow
For the stand-up comedian:
• Develop a character that you can perform on stage in your act. Consult this list to learn about four up-and-coming stand-ups who portray characters in their acts, then seek out videos of their acts online (or in person, if you’re able). Then use Judd’s tip on writing characters to develop your own character in your stand-up act. Who is this person? How can you give him or her a strong introduction on stage? What aspects of their personality will people relate to?
Write down ideas for your character in your comedy journal. As you progress through Judd’s class, you might find that inhabiting a character in your stand-up act doesn’t work for your brand of comedy, and that’s okay. But don’t limit yourself in the beginning. Try it out and see if the
character is a fit
CASE STUDIES:
IMPROVISATION
• Using the shooting schedule you created in Chapter 23,
Directing: Production, identify a scene from your short
that will involve a lot of improvisation. Hold a rehearsal
in which you ask your actors to improvise, maintaining
the spirit and narrative goal of the scene but changing
the dialogue, making it up or transforming it on the
spot. Record the rehearsal, and then review the video
and transcribe the improvised jokes and good dialogue
that are born from this rehearsal in your mega
document.
• It’s time to shoot your short. The night before you shoot,
refresh your memory by looking through your comedy
journal. What new jokes were improvised during
rehearsal that you might like to try out on set? When
you begin shooting, tell the actors to perform the scene
as scripted, then open it up to improvisation. Allow the
actors to play around. Try yelling out lines to your actors
if they come to you, and pull from your running list
of alternate jokes. After the shoot, you’ll be left with a
wealth of directorial options and variations of
performance, which will work in your favor in the
editing room
“Every scene in a comedy is an experiment. No one knows if something’s funny. You cannot explain why anything is funny. There’s no science to it whatsoever. So every time you tell a joke, you’re guessing.” —Judd Apatow
Judd has his editors start cutting the movie while he’s still
shooting, so that he can review and give them notes on a weekly—
or even daily—basis. Reviewing cuts in addition to dailies allows
Judd to get a feel for what the movie is becoming. It also allows
him to give feedback to the editors early, so that the first full cut of
the film is already more in step with Judd’s vision.
Even still, the first time Judd sees a film is a painful experience.
The movie inevitably needs a lot of work, so Judd first concentrates
on the scenes that are in the worst shape. Then, he addresses the
ending. Judd likes to cut the ending early in the process so that he
can determine if he needs to reshoot. Sometimes a scene that he
was banking on for big laughs simply doesn’t produce them. In that
case, Judd has to do some thinking to figure out if the scene can be
transformed.
When testing a comedy film, you’re always looking for laughs.
If the audience isn’t laughing, Judd knows there’s a problem. A
smaller focus group will reveal more in-depth insights about
how the audience is relating to the film’s characters. Do audience
members hate a character they’re supposed to like? Judd uses that
information from testing to rework the character, often cutting
jokes or swapping takes to make the character more relatable.
Testing also allows you to see how far you can push the envelope
with controversial material.
One of Judd’s testing strategies is to create two cuts of a film: the
A cut, which is the one that he’s working to polish and tighten,
and the B cut, also known as the “Frankenstein Monster.” Judd
uses the Frankenstein Monster to take big swings—which could be
misses, or could get even bigger laughs than anything in the A cut.
Throughout testing, Judd keeps an eye out for dead spots, pacing,
and momentum. If a scene needs saving, Judd uses voice-over to
replace or add jokes.
Table Reads
–Judd Apatow
read carefully, and be aware that a miscast reader can affect how you interpret a character or dialogue. If one of your readers isn’t working in a part, have them switch with someone else. At the end, have a discussion about the jokes and the story. Is every scene as funny as it can be? Is the story working? Why is the big scene at the end falling flat? Ask everyone to be brutally honest. You
want your script to be the best it can possibly be.
Stand up workshopping
–Judd Apatow
• Workshop your five-minute act with an audience of
friends to test out your material. Also feel free to pitch
them jokes you’ve been mulling over for a while but
haven’t quite perfected. Listen to their ideas and
feedback—but remember, you are the ultimate decider
about what goes in your act.
• Record yourself performing your five-minute act and
share the video in The Hub for peer review. Learn what’s
working and what isn’t, then change or add material
accordingly. After you’ve tweaked the act based on your
fellow classmates’ notes and your friends’ feedback,
practice, practice, practice, then take it to an open mic
night.
“If you’re not obsessed, you don’t have any shot at all. Hopefully, you have talent. And hopefully, you have some luck. But if you’re not working harder than anybody else, just stop right now.” —Judd Apatow
When Judd was young, he was the only person he knew who was
interested in comedy. He became obsessed, devouring all comedic
material he could lay his hands on—from watching every comedy
show on television to looking up Lenny Bruce’s obituary on
microfiche at the public library. Judd’s lesson from this period in
his life? Pour all of your energy into your passion.
Judd learned that developing multiple skills in the business
—writing, directing, producing—allowed him to keep working
where someone with only one skill might have had a dry spell. Judd
recommends that you have multiple projects going at once. Write a
pilot for a television show while you’re working on your film script,
and write stand-up comedy jokes on the side. If you’re just
starting out, get a job that will teach you about your craft and
about the business.
When you’re interviewing for a job—especially one in which you’ll
be working in a group setting—you’re being interviewed not only
for the work, but for the dynamic you’ll have with everyone else in
the room. Nobody likes a room killer, so make sure your potential
future colleagues see you won’t drag everyone down with
complaints or weird habits.
Make yourself indispensable to the people who hire you. Go the
extra mile for them. Strive to be helpful. Even if they don’t use
everything you write, they’ll appreciate and depend on your effort.
How you handle notes is one of the greatest challenges of creative
work. It’s a bit of a catch-22—if you take a bad note, your project
will be bad and no one will pick it up; but if you reject a note, you
may take on the wrath of executives. You have to learn how to
manage your relationships with note-givers while also protecting
the integrity of your project.
When Judd was a kid, he’d go home and watch The Mike
Douglas Show, The Dinah Shore Show, and The Merv Griffin Show.
Track down episodes of these shows and watch them. Why do
you think Judd was so drawn to the kind of comedy in these
television shows? Do you find them funny? How have stand-up
comedy and late night television changed since these
comedians were on the scene?
• Now think about the comedy shows that originally sparked
your own interest in comedy. Put together a list and share it
with your classmates in The Hub. Seek out episodes of shows
they suggest that you’ve never heard of
“If you want to take that risk and put in that time to see if you have the talent, to see if everything can come together, at the end of that road, if you are great, they will find you. It will work out.” —Judd Apatow
The impulse toward comedy is a complex one—it perhaps stems
from a need to be seen, but it also involves the risk of humiliation.
Like every art form, comedy is a way for people to work through
what’s bothering them. Through comedy, people can find a
supportive, creative community.
You have to be ready to get your heart broken, though. You’ll have
plenty of great ideas that never get picked up. You’ll get the plug
pulled on what you’re doing halfway through. If you’re good and
you’re determined, Judd urges you to stick with it. The world needs
more good comedy.
