Advice for Writers

This week's wisdom comes courtesy of two rather different sources. The first is recently unearthed memo to the writers of the TV show The Unit, from its creator and executive producer, David Mamet. There's a ton of practical wisdom here, and you should definitely check it out yourself, but here are some highlights:

QUESTION:WHAT IS DRAMA? DRAMA, AGAIN, IS THE QUEST OF THE HERO TO OVERCOME THOSE THINGS WHICH PREVENT HIM FROM ACHIEVING A SPECIFIC, ACUTE GOAL.

SO: WE, THE WRITERS, MUST ASK OURSELVES OF EVERY SCENE THESE THREE QUESTIONS.

1) WHO WANTS WHAT?
2) WHAT HAPPENS IF HER DON’T GET IT?
3) WHY NOW?

And, similarly:

THE JOB OF THE DRAMATIST IS TO MAKE THE AUDIENCE WONDER WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. NOT TO EXPLAIN TO THEM WHAT JUST HAPPENED, OR TO*SUGGEST* TO THEM WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.

ANY DICKHEAD, AS ABOVE, CAN WRITE, “BUT, JIM, IF WE DON’T ASSASSINATE THE PRIME MINISTER IN THE NEXT SCENE, ALL EUROPE WILL BE ENGULFED IN FLAME”

Obviously this is aimed at TV writers, but the lesson in dramatic writing and scene construction can be cross-applied to those writing novels and short stories as well. And so we thank you, David Mamet, for writing in ALL CAPITALS about these lessons that we definitely need to learn.

Our second piece of advice comes from Carson at Script Shadow, another one of my favorite sites. This week was "alternate draft week" over there, where Carson compares and contrasts (and whenever possible, posts links to) alternate drafts of well-known screenplays. Yesterday he posted a review of an early, alternate version of The Empire Strikes Back by Leigh Brackett.


Brackett is a Hollywood legend, having written The Big Sleep with William Faulkner and Rio Bravo for Howard Hawks, among many others, and she was working on Empire for George Lucas when she died. I haven't had a chance to read Brackett's draft yet, but Carson gives us a pretty good synopsis of how it differs from Lawrence Kasdan's finished and produced revision, and along the way he has some pretty insightful things to say about how the final version works better.

Carson?

"Comparing these two drafts, in the Brackett Draft, we meet Vader hanging out on his throne, waiting for information. Compare that to the film, where he’s in his Star Destroyer, gung-ho searching the galaxy to find Luke. Which is more interesting? Or let’s look at the rule on a much smaller scale. In Brackett’s draft, when we meet Han, he’s sort of rummaging around the base, running into people and occasionally talking to them. Compare that to the film, where he’s desperately trying to get his ship fixed so he can get the hell out of here! Which one is more interesting? At the beginning of every scene, take every character and ask yourself, “What are they doing right now? What is their goal in this scene?” You do that and you’ll have a bunch of interesting characters engaging in an interesting scene. You don’t, and you’ll have a bunch of characters standing around doing nothing, waiting for their turn to talk. Which one is more interesting?"

Now, just as a hypothetical, say you happen to be in the middle of rewriting a Star Wars novel with a compelling antagonist...could you ask for a more penetrating diagnosis of how to go about the job?

Why I don't write a lot of short stories

Last week I finally had a chance to watch Dreams with Sharp Teeth, Erik Nelson's excellent documentary about Harlan Ellison. I've never met Ellison personally, although I've been reading his stuff for almost thirty years -- I think my first exposure to his work was in fifth or sixth grade, when I found an illustrated version of Ellison's famous short story "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream" stashed in the corner of the school library. To say that the darkness of that story stained my sensibilities permanently is to badly understate the case -- I remember feeling excited and terrified by the narrative voice, and the sense that it was going too far, and I didn't just like it...it resonated with me. I wanted to write that kind of stuff...urgent, vivid and extremely dark.

Ellison's work continues to be profoundly inspiring to me. His stories and essays are remarkable models of imagination and raw nerve. Not surprisingly, when I was starting out, most of my own short stories sounded just like his stuff. Like Stephen King and Peter Straub, and later Jim Harrison and Elmore Leonard, Ellison was one of those writers that I actually spent more time learning how not to write like...if that makes any sense at all.

And then I stopped writing short stories completely.

It wasn't a conscious decision, as far as I can tell. I just started writing novels, and stuck with that. Ellison, of course, is famous for his short stories. He has written novels, including one of the truly great rock 'n' roll novels of all time, Spider Kiss, but he's gonna be remembered for the short stories. Nelson's documentary touches on this briefly, the notion that his career would have been different if he'd written more novels...but that wasn't what Ellison was about. He seems to thrive in the short form -- heightened bursts of high-intensity prose, three or four or five thousand words.

I can't do that to save my life.

Fun Fact: I was recently invited to contribute short stories to two very different genre anthologies -- one, a "romantic thriller" story, and the other, an anthology of speculative fiction. I said yes to both offers, because I'd never done anything like that before and I'm in the habit of saying okay to new experiences, just to say I tried it.

Fun Fact #2: I've probably only written three decent short stories in my life.

Not that I haven't tried. Heavens knows I have. Every so often I get an idea that I think would make a good short story, and sometimes I even try. But usually the results are so utterly unsatisfying -- either too much or too little -- that I end up stashing it in the hard-drive file labeled "Cripples and Orphans." This little folder is just as bleak and depressing as it sounds...it's full of unfinished short stories and ones that I did finish, but they suck anyway.

Fun Fact #3: Sometime in the next few months, I better learn how to write short stories.

Good thing I don't have anything else going on.

Let's Split

Ever since I watched the red band trailer for "Kick-Ass," I can't get this song out of my head. Their cover of "Nights in White Satin" is pretty rockin' too.

I...am...Bearsharktopus!

What does that mean? Well, I'm a terrifying creature of many parts. And what exactly does that mean?

At the moment I'm working on -- or awaiting notes on --

A) Star Wars: Black Orchid

B) My ultraviolent John Hughes/Luc Besson YA mashup Au Revoir, Crazy European Chick

C) My television pilot script Black Rocket

D) My something's-in-the-water family horror novel Stillwater

E) A top secret project that's actually paying me to pretend like a corner of my world right here in Pennsylvania is being overtaken by a plague so horrible that I can't go into anymore details at the moment.

All this, plus the Bearsharktopus costume that I have to get ready for Halloween this fall. First, you start with chicken wire...

Oh yeah, and speaking of having many parts, do yourself a big favor and check out Norman Partridge's awesome new blog American Frankenstein. Besides being an all-around great guy and new father, Norm's one of the most captivating, compelling and outright damn entertaining writers out there today. His novel Dark Harvest is a classic Halloween novel, and he's got a new kick-ass, take-no-prisoners collection coming out next month, Lesser Demons.

This ain't just the whiskey talking, either -- Norm's the real deal. I've read this collection cover to cover and got right back in line to ride it again. Do yourself a favor and check him out.