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03/12/2006: Aboutitude


I went to my local bookstore/coffee shop today and bought one of their seasonal novelty coffees. The Hazelnut Mocharoon. Seriously, it was called that. But when it was ready, they didn't put a lid on it. They instead directed me to a selection of self-serve lids. Well, I did the best I could, but I'm no professional. And the only way out of the parking structure was up the steepest exit ramp in L.A. This resulted in half my Mocharoon peeing neatly and very gradually into a velvet-lined sunglasses case that I was very fond of.

But you've got real problems. You hate your script. At least it's a fair assumption that some of you out there have suddenly realized that something feels wrong. Scenes that sounded fine in outline form are flat or awkward or simply unwritable when you try to turn them into dialogue. And it all just seems so pointless...

All right. Let's talk about the most likely option for why you're feeling this way. I'd love to say that the most likely option is that you're panicking about nothing. But I suspect that's the second most likely option. The actual most likely option is that the script is not ABOUT anything anymore. You probably started out with nice clear small little premise. You know, something like: This episode is about our hero giving up his life's work and then realizing that his own moral core won't allow him to do so. Or: This episode is about our heroine rejecting her mother's advice and later realizing that through that very independence she's acting just like her mother. Or: This episode is about our couple fearing they're growing apart and then realizing the time away from each other is strengthening the relationship. Or: whatever you've selected as the journey that best makes for a shimmering knockout episode of your show.

The process of turning that simple core notion, the about-ness of the episode, into a series of scenes, can result in its being obscured. Most of the time, just THINKING about the about-ness will suddenly make it clear which scenes have lost focus. Bring the about-ness back to the front of your brain, keep it in mind as you write every scene, and things will suddenly be much easier.

Sometimes, though, you'll realize that the reason the about-ness went away is because it got lost at an earlier stage of the process. Go back. Don't try to push ahead. If you need to go back and adjust the outline, well, then, you have to. And do it thoroughly. Don't cling to anything you've already written. In the long run, it'll be faster starting entirely over, if it results in the RIGHT outline, than it'll be to keep forging ahead with the wrong one.

I should've gone to the counter and asked for help selecting the proper lid for my mocharoon.

Lunch: a tiny rare filet mignon with barely-steamed corn-on-the-cob, sliced heirloom tomatoes and crusty oven-warmed bread. Mm-mm-mm.