Under Pressure

Yeah, that’s pretty much what it feels like…My first job in this town was copywriting for a boutique ad agency that did nothing but promos for CBS. It was a nice entry to the business; I learned about television and marketing and the bottom line.
I also learned how to write a large quantity of material in a very short amount of time that would conform to various demands and specifications. More importantly, I was accountable for that material. Responsible. I learned to surf my own adrenaline in that job, and it’s a skill that has served me well for many years now.
Writing under pressure is a symptom of the vicissitudes of this business. It’s not an inevitable curse; it’s like smallpox. We could definitely wipe it off the face of the Earth if we all really tried, but frankly, it’s not really a priority for the people spending the money.
There’s an old saying my ad agency boss had on her door. “Good, Fast, Cheap: Pick Two”. That cutesy little saying has proven to be one of the truer things I’ve ever been taught, and it occurred to me early on that the guys who are Good and Fast are the most useful. After all, who wants to be known as Cheap? And when you’re writing studio films, Good and Fast writers are the ones everyone wants to be in business with.
The problem, though, is that sometimes “Fast” is “Too Fast”. When you move at lightspeed (as I’m doing on my current project), frustration sets in. The deadline is pushing down on you. Your need to do your best work (otherwise known as your need to avoid doing work you know isn’t your best) is pushing up.
The resulting squeeze is enough to make you insane. Still, it’s amazing what you can accomplish if you simply commit. I’ve had producers make demands of me that I thought were nuts. On the other hand, part of me simply says “I can do it” no matter what they ask.
That part sometimes gets me in trouble. More often, though, it allows me to accomplish goals that even reasonable doubt would have forestalled.
Writers who haven’t yet experienced the pressure of the Good and Fast deadline haven’t really tested themselves yet. There’s a crucible phenomenon that occurs when you’re chucked into the fire of some hellish time frame, and I’ve often done my best work in those situations. Conversely, when given months to write, I sometimes lose myself in my own head, and the work suffers.
I mentioned earlier that pressurized writing doesn’t need to occur. I wonder, sometimes, if it isn’t best that it does. It’s not particularly fun or pleasant or Zen or fulfilling as much as it’s exhilarating and maddening and nuts.
Still, if you squeeze a lump of coal hard enough…
Whether you’re a pro or an aspirant, it’s worth a try. Blank page to first draft in five weeks, including a treatment. When you’re racing the clock like that, there’s no time for self-doubt. No time to go backwards or decide the whole thing’s a mess.
And there’s a wonderful built-in excuse if no one likes it. That alone ought to be enough to recommend the Pressure Draft.
Besides, if it turns out you’re Good and Fast, then you get to be a little more Expensive too.

Craig-
I can’t recall where I first heard that phrase, but it always seemed to ring true to me. However, the only experience I have with writing deadlines is college (which I just finished, go me!) so I can’t even begin to imagine the pressures of real-world demands on writers such as yourself. Hell, I’ve become accustomed to paying others to give me deadlines, so the “cheap” label is sorta mixed up in my world.
I plan on moving out to California at the end of next month, and I’ve been trying to force myself to get some stuff done before I get out there. Figured a real deadline would help push me. Turns out, self-motivation isn’t working so hot. Coming down off three straight semesters of 20 credit-hours worth of 300-500 level English classes, it’s hard to find the juice to do my own stuff. I keep finding reasons to read this or that book, or rewatch this or that movie or TV series. Ideally, once I settle in out there, the atmosphere will get me off my lazy butt and get me working. Here’s to hoping…
Pick two, that’s an incredibly apt saying …
Five weeks for a first draft. Is that a real first draft for yourself, or a first draft to be submitted (which is really the 17th or 18th personal one?)
Craig:
Magnificent post. Does your family ever see you?
Dear Craig,
Interesting to read your post when I just put myself through writing a first draft in a week. I wrote it from a treatment I did years ago for a company that abandoned the project because of a rumor, which turned out to be false, that Alejandro Amenabar was developing a script along the same lines.
Anyhow, I had a week to spare, wanted to write something during that time, and didn’t want to waste time choosing which project I was going to do. So, I jumped in. I must confess that I could write a few scripts during the same time I might take to make up my mind about what to do next.
Is that first draft any good, you might ask? I’d answer that it being good or not is irrelevant at this point. I don’t care how good a writer is. First drafts are shit (even when they’re not, they are in comparison to what they can transform into). That said, there are different kinds of shit. There’s shit then there’s manure. Manure is very rich and can provide the nutrients to grow a great project. A writer who knows his shit can tell the difference. That and the will to rewrite may very well be what sets the good writer apart from the bad.
Daniel L
On the other hand, working fast really reveals how much talent you actually have as a writer. It would be really nice to believe that simply EVERYBODY produces lousy first drafts but unfortunately, I don’t think this is true.
I don’t have any experience as a screenwriter but I have worked as a reporter at one of those understaffed small-town newspapers - the kind where the staff was expected to produce four to five articles a week. A lot of us, to be frank, churned out unreadable drek but maddeningly enough, there were a couple writers who shined week after week. Great stuff, well reported and brightly written. Inevitably, these stars worked on what were regarded as the worst beats (like county government) and of course, eventually went on to work for national newspapers.
Anyway, I think my long-winded point is that one can’t fool yourself about the level of competition out there. Sure, you might be the best player down at your local courts, but hey, are you really ready to play in the NBA?
Jon:
They do! I write a lot at night.
Forgot to sign off my earlier comment with… “in my humble opinion.”
“Anyway, I think my long-winded point is that one can’t fool yourself about the level of competition out there.”
I remember a discussion that took place years ago on American Zoetrope. Everyone was complaining about how bad the scripts they reviewed were, but everyone felt they, themselves, were in a different league. Which led to the question: “If everyone who complains of the bad scripts believe theirs are good, then, who wrote the hell wrote the bad scripts?”
There needs to be a level of talent to work in this business, but talent is only one of a set of many essential elements of which talent is not even the most important. I still don’t understand how, in regards reality, so much focus is put on the actual writing talent. Can somebody explain that?
DL
Like others, I love that “pick two” saying.
I’m co-writing (first time!) a new piece, and right now we’re four weeks into the project and maybe 80% completed on the initial draft, with very clear and doable ideas for what the remaining pages are to include (praise be to good outlining!). What’s funny is how much BETTER this rapidly assembled piece seems compared to a lot of stuff I’ve muddled with for months, and how much better it already seems compared to a sickening percentage of stuff I read from other newbs and nobodies.
There’s no reason that fast need preclude good.
Great post. Great site. . . . B
William Goldman advises writers to write their first draft as fast as possible. Take as much time as you need in researching, outlining, etc, but when the time comes to actually write pages, he recommends churning them out at the maximum rate you are capable of.
I’ve found that to be pretty good advice. Momentum can be a powerful force. I learned in college that I wrote my best papers the day before they were due; my worst grades were always on the stuff I gave myself tons of time for.
Working on a live weekly TV show was pretty good for reinforcing this.
I’m still really good at writing to a tight deadline. The only trouble is, fake deadlines don’t work that well for me. I can tell myself that I have to have a spec script done within one month—but some part of my brain knows it’s a fake deadline. I need something real (like a live show, or a contractually mandated delivery date) to give me that adrenaline rush.
i have no problem putting together a 1st draft quickly. i think that’s a matter of technique, or craft, or whatever you want to call it.
it’s the polish where i take my time. most polish fixes are so subtle, they can’t be ‘crafted’ or ‘techniqued’. they present themselves or they do not.
you could do a ‘crafted polish’ - zap on the nose dialogue, superfluous narrative (even if it’s only one word), replace bland descripton of action - that kind of thing. but, the subtleties of final draft have to be allowed to make themselves known. you have to wait and hope they will occur.
the most delicate of fine tuning, true quality, can’t be rushed. it certainly can’t be done quickly, at will. you don’t sense that a scene needs some change, you don’t know what, but something’s wrong - and just come up with the fix by force of will, right then, right there. you have to just sit and wait (unfortunately, possibly, for days or weeks [and let’s face it, maybe for years]) and hope, perhaps, for divine intervention
craft and technique are actively applied. the highest quality writing, however, is passive. if you’re lucky it occurs to you and you jot it down (quick). it seems to me that this stuff, these fine whispy ideas, come from someplace outside of me. really, to take credit for it just seems wrong