Whew! Okay, I'm back after quite the hiatus. Where have I been, you ask? I've been face-down in the pages of a script. I received a follow-up E-mail from one of the Script List folks, basically asking me, "Dude, where's your script?" I decided it was time to stop putzing around and get the thing done.
And now, it's done! I sent in all 120 pages, rewritten to death and resurrection, this morning, and now, there is so much potential ahead. With this weight taken from my shoulders, I have leaped a thousand feet into the air, but it is important, on my way down, to find a place to land.
Writing a really great script requires a firm grasp on human emotion, something I struggle to understand on a daily basis. The way to reach the intense anger, joy, and sadness depicted in movies is foreign to me, owing to spending so much time isolated in my head. I can handle complex systems; I can create cultures down to the assistant to the middle shaman in charge of sprinkling shaved rodent hair over the heads of ceremonial dancers, but for the life of me, I cannot be satisfied with my characters' reactions. I can write "She YELLS" or "He breaks down," but I can never tell if the situations surrounding those short statements would, in the real world, elicit such responses. I have no gauge, and it's made writing an incredibly frustrating process.
Emotional people fascinate me. When I see someone cry or laugh out loud or really lay into someone, I'm almost paralyzed with wonder and sometimes end up having to give account for my staring. When friends are emotional, I struggle to relate, but being unable to do so, I resort to intellectualism. "Interesting" is a favorite, non-committal word. The roots of this are many, but the fact of the matter is, while I can feel emotion inwardly, my inability to express it outwardly, like those fascinating people I observe, is inhibiting me from getting my work to reach beyond the system and touch the heart of the reader.
I used to write scenes that made me want to cry, but I believe they were in prose. When I can get inside the character's head (my realm), it works, but in the screenplay format, where all is visual and audible, without scent, touch, or thought (which must be depicted visually on film), I'm stuck. I cannot convey the emotion as I want, nor can I get my readers to understand the emotional depth that I had envisioned. So, sticking with New Year's Resolutions, I've got to figure out how to open the bottle of tears and let the words flow out. This next script had better make someone react, or so help me, I will figure out how to express my annoyance off the page.
And now, it's done! I sent in all 120 pages, rewritten to death and resurrection, this morning, and now, there is so much potential ahead. With this weight taken from my shoulders, I have leaped a thousand feet into the air, but it is important, on my way down, to find a place to land.
Writing a really great script requires a firm grasp on human emotion, something I struggle to understand on a daily basis. The way to reach the intense anger, joy, and sadness depicted in movies is foreign to me, owing to spending so much time isolated in my head. I can handle complex systems; I can create cultures down to the assistant to the middle shaman in charge of sprinkling shaved rodent hair over the heads of ceremonial dancers, but for the life of me, I cannot be satisfied with my characters' reactions. I can write "She YELLS" or "He breaks down," but I can never tell if the situations surrounding those short statements would, in the real world, elicit such responses. I have no gauge, and it's made writing an incredibly frustrating process.
Emotional people fascinate me. When I see someone cry or laugh out loud or really lay into someone, I'm almost paralyzed with wonder and sometimes end up having to give account for my staring. When friends are emotional, I struggle to relate, but being unable to do so, I resort to intellectualism. "Interesting" is a favorite, non-committal word. The roots of this are many, but the fact of the matter is, while I can feel emotion inwardly, my inability to express it outwardly, like those fascinating people I observe, is inhibiting me from getting my work to reach beyond the system and touch the heart of the reader.
I used to write scenes that made me want to cry, but I believe they were in prose. When I can get inside the character's head (my realm), it works, but in the screenplay format, where all is visual and audible, without scent, touch, or thought (which must be depicted visually on film), I'm stuck. I cannot convey the emotion as I want, nor can I get my readers to understand the emotional depth that I had envisioned. So, sticking with New Year's Resolutions, I've got to figure out how to open the bottle of tears and let the words flow out. This next script had better make someone react, or so help me, I will figure out how to express my annoyance off the page.
"Emotional people fascinate me" he says. Well, then, I would fascinate the hell out of you.
ReplyDeleteI mentioned I read the book Look Me in the Eye. It was very interesting reading the author's description of his difficulty in relating to people, in empathizing with them, of seeing them as more than abstractions.
Like it is with you, it was clear from what I read that this guy was really, really intelligent - clear because he basically said as much. But, I imagine how difficult it must be to want to relate and understand and just not be able to.
Good luck with your writing. Perhaps fantasizing, or maybe imagining has a better connotation, that you are one of those outwardly expressive folks you see would help. Isn't that what "method" acting is?
Anyhooo, good to see you posting again. I look forward to reading your pearls whenever I see a new one.