I've talked a great deal about the folly of writers over the
last few weeks, and now, with the help of a group of melancholy violinists, I
thought it was about time we focused on the real victims of sub-par
screenwriting - those who have to read the work. Whilst some may question if
the present integrity of my sanity even permits me to hand out such advice, on
account of "all dem scriptz", I'm more than happy to share my top
tips on how I've been able to stare into the endless void of writing existence,
and still keep one foot grounded in reality. The only question I have for you is, "Why are the violins
playing the people?"...
1) Tire Yourself Out
First
Reading a bad script with a surplus of energy is about as
safe as ingesting hallucinogens during a double rainbow. You'll be bouncing off
the walls and chewing on your furniture quicker than you can write
"miss-speling". The majority of my personal script reading notes
consist of more shouty capital letters and inappropriate language than a
YouTube comment section. The trick is, if you get an early sixth sense from,
say, the first two pages that you're going to be in for a bad time, you must absolutely
destroy your body and mind by doing whatever intense activity you can think of
as quickly as you can.
Ride a bike up a severe hill, engage in some coital activity
with a kind neighbour, turn the "down" escalator in your local mall into a
treadmill - whatever gets the job done quickest. By exhausting all of your
excess energy on something as pointless as exercise for staying in shape,
you're mind is now numbed from engaging in extreme emotion (editors note: a lot
of "e" words in this sentence so far, James. Please calm down),
allowing your objectivity to flourish like a beige-wearing librarian during
National Book Week. Even if you do find yourself using the CAPS LOCK while
writing your notes, you won't be as mentally drained by your frustration this time
around.
2) Set Yourself
Mini-Targets and Rewards
Ahhh, the old corporate motivational tool of mini-rewards,
as all the mindless office drones compete in meaningless micro-competitions to
see which rat can truly run the maze the fastest. Laugh all you will at these
losers, but the formula is proven to be effective. When you're undergoing such
a horrific trial-by-fire, like reading a script that is "less than
good", you want to be safe in the knowledge that you're going to be
adequately compensated (besides maybe a little cash) for your suffering. The
best way to do that is to reward yourself.
I'm talking more than just patting yourself on the back, which feels more awkward
than successful.
"Right, for every 20 pages that I read, I get 10
minutes of gardening time". "Every 2 paragraphs of a report I write,
I eat a three course meal". "Each time I read a word, I get to buy
something new for my Honda Civic". These are just a few of the thousands
of possibilities you could be enjoying today! Breaking down something
unenjoyable into smaller, more digestible unenjoyable segments allows you to
seamlessly jump between work and pleasure, without having to undergo long
spells of one or the other. Just, y'know... Make sure you actually get it done.
3) Walk Away For At
Least An Hour
ON THAT NOTE, give yourself some cool-down time, kid. If the
whole "reward" thing isn't quite working out for you, on account of
the fact that your new souped-up Honda Civic just made you vomit your finest
Sunday lunch all over your beautiful hydrangeas, try just shutting off all
external stimulus and chilling out. Turn off your mind, relax and float
downstream. Let your mind forget about all that icky characterization,
non-sensical plotting and atrocities in the name of all things grammar, and plug
your ears into the relaxing sounds of whales doing their thing, or something
else that doesn't make you as thirsty.
Upon returning to work, you'll find one of two things. Either
everything that insulted you so much about the script previously isn't seeming
quite as bad, and you're able to be more open and supportive of certain
"creative" decisions. Or you'll continue to hate it. If it's the
latter, take another hour or two. Get yourself into that Zen state, no matter
how much brute force you have to take to achieve it. I often find that
returning from a mini hiatus with a fresh batch of reluctant optimism affords
me the ability to be more positive in the long run. Just, y'know... Get it
done. Can't stress that enough.
4) Pretend That It's
"Less Than Good" Deliberately
Well, now we're getting creative! Providing you can fool
yourself into having an open sense of humour for a few hours in the day, you
might start to find that reading "less than good scripts" can
actually be an enjoyable experience. Gasp! The script becomes a
"deliberately bad joke" that you're in on, as if you're infiltrating
the system with the writer to see how high up the food chain you can pass this thing.
Therein lies a powerful sense of camaraderie, allying yourself with the budding
scribe as opposed to creating a new enemy for yourself. They've fulfilled their
side of the joke, now you have to make good and produce your
"serious" report, telling them why they are naughty *wink face*.
Your faith in humanity always rests on the comforting
thought that everyone else knows what they're doing. This coping mechanism
complements that, possibly naive, train of belief, allowing your critical
feedback to come from a place of positivity and acceptance. The only danger is
if the script has been written to be
"less than good" deliberately - suddenly some clever clogs who has
turned terrible writing on its head to create something brilliant and hilarious
is greeted with script coverage that, well, didn't get the joke. To all those
post-modern, coffee-slurping, bespectacled, seven-layers-of-irony writers who
have tried this approach - bravo, but you're going to have to include a
disclaimer for all us bespectacled, seven-layers-of-irony readers.
5) Read It In A Place
Surrounded By People
Whenever I'm reading alone in my home, I get surprisingly
vocal about my general disapproval of people who are, honestly, probably doing
their best. With no one else around to bounce off my escalating insanity, my
feedback runs the risk of becoming an indecipherable smörgåsbord of inconsequential
shouting, mild threats and a surprising amount of Gloria Gaynor lyrics. Now,
I'm not saying you should only ever read around your friends and family,
because you want to share your continued suffering with others like a normal
member of society. No. I'm instead suggesting that you bottle that madness up,
and surround yourself with total
strangers.
That's right - pack up your laptop, a couple of red bulls
and a serious desire to kick some scriptwriting ass, because you're hitting the
road, Jack. Get yourself into a local library, cafe or acupuncture clinic, set
up your little workstation and quietly get to reading in the corner. If readers
are anything like writers, we're absolutely not going to run the risk of
causing a scene, let alone drawing any sort of meaningful attention to
ourselves, and that crippling social pressure, in this instance, is totally a
good thing. You can knuckle down, get the gruelling work done, and go home to
scream into your bedroom mirror to your heart's content. That, my friends, is
called turning a weakness into a strength... You can thank me later.
6) NONE OF IT IS WORKING. OH DEAR.
OK, change of plan. Now would be a great time to panic. Yep,
turns out that no matter how prepared you think you are to cope with the work of
"less than good" writers, YOU
ARE ALWAYS HORRIBLY UNPREPARED.
Now, if you excuse me, there's a mirror over there that
needs a good old fashioned yelling at.
James Cottle, a
Scriptwriting Mega-Scholar™, is now a real world Freelance Writer, in between
intense bouts of Script Reading. Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc, "like"
the Anti-Scriptwriting page on Facebook, and share this blog if you want his
opinions on your work to be completely unbiased.
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