Look, I’m not trying to inject the world’s writers with a healthy (read: hearty) dose of crippling paranoia - Writers have that in spades anyway. But if we all took a moment to really consider the intentions of the person sat next to you (or lying on the adjacent sofa, if that’s a favourable configuration), the one you call your “writing partner” may be plotting something far more sinister than your latest pseudo-intellectual slasher horror. Maybe not the M word or the K word or even the Q word, but that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be Gary-Busey-In-A-Mankini Scared right now.
1) They Know About “Getting Rid Of Things” Creatively
Let’s say, hypothetically, that your writing partner is a demented psychopath, hypothetically. Whilst you slurp away on cheap store-brand coffee, staring at your joint script notes and looking for potential stories, they’re sat there watching you. You’re their first line of validation, in charge of their fate. They aren’t thinking about the script – they are thinking about the ramifications of your reaction to the script. So, hypothetically, they play out certain “scenarios” in their head...
It sounds morbid, but you need only look at the hundreds of crime shows out there, each with hundreds of episodes, each with a dozen or so theories as to how the victim was “disposed of”, whether it be poisoning-made-to-look-like-something-else, an elaborately staged suicide or just a simple “goat / cliff” affair. All of these were thought of by writers, putting themselves in the Doc Martens of demented psychopaths who they have created. Guaranteed, there’s a crime show out there that’s had an episode about a writer struggling to deal with rejection. Now my hypotheses don’t seem so ludicrous...
2) They Can Enter Your Mind
You know that amazing creative flow you get, where you’re happily bouncing ideas off of another writer, to the point where you start finishing each other’s sentences? That definitely means you’ve stumbled upon a winning idea, right? Wrong. Your writing partner has goddamn psychic powers. Every second, they are learning more and more about you, compiling data into their mental Excel spreadsheet, and cataloguing it for future exploitation. That way, when your discussion about your Act 2 Turning Point gets a little heated, they’ve got the ammunition to burn you alive.
Now you see that your suggestion to have “Protagonist #1” lounging around in their underwear after a brutal romantic rejection says far more about you than you’d like (not that it’s an example I’ve mentioned in past articles or anything). You’re starting to regret letting your fellow scribe into your house for today’s session, as further clues to your psyche lay strewn around the living room – your quirky heart-shaped cushions, pictures on mantelpiece turned face down, an empty box of Kleenex on the coffee table, Les Miserables on DVD... They now know far more about you than you know about them, and that’s a dangerous game in this industry.
3) The “Discussions” Are Becoming “Debates”, Which Are Becoming “Arguments”
It’s possible at this stage you’re thinking, “This doesn’t apply to me! I have a great working relationship with Killian! We agree about practically everything, especially that he has a funny name!” – This only means you’re in even more danger. A healthy split in opinion is natural, given how everyone has unique tastes, so if they are agreeing with you about practically everything, there’s three possible explanations: 1) They’re spineless, 2) They’re romantically interested in you, or 3) They’re going to explode all of their opinions all over you in a frenzied bloodlust, something often characterised in TV by the spineless, overly-romantic types.
If you are both disagreeing about stuff regularly then that’s good, as it means your violent reckoning will just come a little later. People like to claim that “there are no wrong answers” in the brainstorming stages of development, but when your partner suggests “Alien Ducklings” in an early meeting and later, during the 7th draft, becomes fixated on working them into your gritty Western, the problem is exponentially exacerbated. From the moment you spurn his idea, you’ve made an enemy, and that enemy is a ticking time bomb.
4) They Are Probably A Better Writer Than You
I’m not saying that you’re not amazing, but these are competitive times that we writers live in, and, frankly, if you’re facing competition as early as the ideas phase then there is simply nothing sacred within the profession to call your own. Ask yourself – Do you really think that your writing partner will keep your name on the title page if they have been instrumental in your sudden, mysterious disappearance? Your embittered ghost will be forced to haunt the movie theatre where the seminal “Ghost Croc VS Inter-Dimensional Mallard” plays on repeat without your name in the credits.
Even if your partner does keep you around for another draft or two (script, not drink), you’ll have to bear their subtle smugness and inherent “talent” when they come up with the film’s winning twist (turns out the Mallard was also a ghost). You may not admit it, but this deflates you as much as it inflates them, fuelling the confidence with which they’ll eventually stage your “goat / cliff” accident. At this stage, your partner is a God in comparison with you, and you’re now left with no choice but to even the playing field. Especially because...
5) They’ve Noticed All These Things About You Too
Like I said at the start – all entirely hypothetical...
James Cottle, after studying Scriptwriting for 4 years, is now an embittered real life freelance writer, and seeks to unlearn everything he knows. But he needs your help... Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc and share this blog to help spread his anarchic plight for reform amongst the writing masses.
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