Q: So, Who Do Screenwriters Hang Out With?

craig

i far prefer ‘textual’ interaction. i can know a person from just a couple sentences. it keeps the things from getting tangled up - no uncomfortable pauses, no inappropriate comments (unless you’re just that bad a writer)

well, that’s…um (uncomfortable pause)…all for now. till next time

z

Aw, c’mon Craig. We’ll get a big group together at a Round Table Pizza. You can even be Dorothy Parker, if you bring the shoulder pads.

Huh. I was in a writing group back in LA (“The Sacred Flying House of the Blessed Virgin Mary”). TV writer, three novelists, a feature writer and a comic book writer. It was fantastic.

Here in Montreal, all I have a is a poker game…

Because I’m a hyphenate (Writer/Director/Producer), most of my work friends share something in common. While it can be a bit weird to hang out with other Director/Producers, there’s definitely no one worse to be friends with than a Writer—With the exception of Actors and who the hell wants to be friends with them?

Most of my work comes from producing, so I’m definitely not a successful writer. But I certainly know a bunch of them and man…complete looney tunes. I know, I know, I’m making sweeping generalizations here but most sweeping generalizations are based largely on facts. To say that most writers are weird and insecure is an understatement. But that’s not the worst thing about being friends with a writer.

It’s a moment. A decision. We’ve all dealt with it and it usually turns out very badly. It’s called, “When Writers Give You A Script”.

For me, there’s nothing worse. It’s so scary, I try to avoid it like the plague. And my brain is split into two halves. One half is thinking:

Dear God, what if it’s horrible?

But worse than that, my other half is thinking:

Dear God, what if it’s great?

If the script is horrible, I stupidly give them an honest critique, they laugh it off, and I don’t hear from them for a couple of months.

If the script is great, I stupidly think of producing it. But then the relationship changes. It becomes Employer, Employee, and how do you “boss” around your friend? He thinks we should go after Al Pacino, I think we should go for an unknown. He loves the ending where the White Samurai lives at the end even though he’s riddled with bullets—I don’t. It’s weird and uncomfortable.

I’m sure it’s mostly my fault but I just can’t seem to be friends with other Writers…

Another drawback to spending too much time with writers is the fact that writers don’t live normal lives. When you have friends that work regular 9-5 gigs, aren’t worried about getting an agent, and don’t spend the bulk of their time talking about movies and TV, then you’re bound to find more material. I have friends that work in government offices, drive delivery trucks, teach, practice law, and an array of other non-creative endeavors. They always crack me up and inspire me with stories of their lives that are much different than mine.

I have more actor friends than any other kind, but I do have some writer friends - most are either much higher on the food chain or lower, if there is such a thing.

I like writers, the good ones, anyway …

Ah, butcha see now THIS is why the directors and cast have all the fun. :-)

As writers we really need to start working on our romantic sex appeal before the public.

First - we need a place to hang out. Not just any place, a really spiffy place, a photogenic magical place. (Hey if ya can’t be good lookin’, and lets face it, most of us ain’t exactly leading man or lady types, dressing to the nines and hangin’ out in a ‘dreamy’ place is a good second best).

I suggest the Chuck E. Cheese up on San Fernado, or, for when we’re stuck in L.A. and the trip to Burbank seems like a bit much, the one on LaTijera could do.

And of course such a place would simply HAVE to have exclusive seating arrangements. I mean allowing the rabble a separate place to sit and ogle us is all fine and dandy, but we can’t allow ourselves to mingle with the common folk, that just wouldn’t do. One of us is going to have to talk to the manager about setting up a rope line, and holding a few tables in reserve, perhaps the ones nearest the Galaxy Gumball Machine would be best.

Next - and I know this can be a touchy subject with some of us, but we have to talk about it, how we dress, in particular before our public, MATTERS. It’s a well known fact that writers have little or no sense of fashion, and that has to change.

Tuxedos and evening gowns, at least imo, are out. After all we don’t want to be confused with directors or cast. How we dress before our public should say something about who we are as a group. We need to project an image of being “bold” and “edgy”.

I say Speedos or thongs with a fedora and choice of flashy boots with heels is the way to go.

Lastly - who is, and who is not, a “writer” has to be settled. Since this can be an exceptionally complex determination to make, I suggest we keep any test as simple as possible. For example, we could settle on a secret model and brand of fountain pen we all carry. Preferably an expensive classy pen, and one that’s of little or no use as a writing implement, but one easily recognizable at a distance as a “writer’s pen”. Such pens, of course, should remain in our possession at all times, for the purpose of being able to definitively identify ourselves to each other. After all we’re going to have to count on the fact that a few wannabees are going to be donning fedoras, boots, and Speedos or thongs, in order to look like writers, so we’re going to need some means of more positive identification to recognize our fellow scribes.

If we do this, I think we can at least create the illusion of writers all sitting around at a mythical form of Algonquin round table all having very deep conversations about the nature and form of story, but hey, this is a town of illusion, a town where dreams hold more power than substance. We don’t HAVE to talk about writing. Since when have writers ever sat around talking about writing? At our exclusive roped off tables at Chuck E. Cheese, all decked out in our bold and edgy “writer’s finery”, we can sit and talk about all the things writers REALLY talk about anyway.

We can still regale each other with really bad dirty puns, complain about the traffic, bullshit about how we did in an online poker game, and the fact that there’s nothing to watch on the tube tonight, or in short, gab about all the same inane crap everybody else does, but do it in a way that creates the ILLUSION of us being in deep conversation about deep writerly subjects.

Oooo. Look who that is over there. Where? Right there! Right next to the Galaxy Gumball Machine! Isn’t that the guy that wrote Scream 3? Nooooooo. You think? I think so yeah. Who do you suppose that is with him? I don’t know but she can’t be a writer. She’s not wearing a thong. Maybe she’s a studio exec, or an agent.

Of course we’ll all know it’s just Craig talking to a dental insurance saleswoman. But don’t tell. We don’t want to ruin the illusion.

;-)

Oh sheeeeIT!

“Scream 3”. Kay, so I’m an ass. Shoulda been “Scary Move 3”. Craig, first time we all meet at our tables you can slap me up side the head with a cotton candy and dump a coke with lotsa ice down my Speedos.

What the hell. It’ll add to our rep as being “tempermental” ‘n give folks a story to tell.

Heh. Don’t worry. Happens all the time, and I’m not sensitive about that stuff at all.

Jesus, Craig… I thought you’d have a more subtle way of telling me why you blew off my breakfast invitation. You don’t have to write a whole article about it. I get it. Shit.

Well, up yours, Mazin! (See you at the WGA thing tomorrow night.)

Craig, I could use your help. I figured comments are the fastest way to get your attention. As a blogger, I know that sadly, it’s certainly one of mine. Thanks. That’s assistantatlas@yahoo.com

“Friends” may not even be the right word for what we’re talking about. Most of the other writers I hang out with aren’t friends in the “hey, let’s go bowling” sense. Rather, they’re colleagues, with whom I can bitch about how annoying a certain executive is.

Although Josh Friedman and I also talk about baby vomit.

And quite a bit more than you’d think.

CRAIG:

Are you ever jealous of Ted and Terry’s relationship? Like, maybe Ted and Terry collaborate better than you and Ted?

(If my 10th grade English teacher ever saw the sentence I just constructed she would have me shot.)

John:

Colleagues. Much better.

Kevin:

No. In fact, I think Terry should be jealous of MY relationship with Ted, since I get to be friends with Ted and never ever ever have to fight with him. :)

Also, Ted and I don’t collaborate on screenplays. We mostly talk about WGA stuff and the state of our profession, best practices, production travails…colleague stuff, as August would say.

Good stuff.

JEEEEZ!

Last week you tell me that I need to go out and get me some “benefactors” and “mentors”, and NOW I return to find that I need to add “colleagues” and “friends” to the list, as well. next week you’ll likely add “candied ginger” and “electrical tape” to my shopping list.

Back to COSTCO go I…

(this screenwriting stuff is getting expensive) . . . B (whose writer buds are all of the virtual type, and whose IRL pals are all civilians…)

Kevin: don’t worry about it, based on your comment up there, I doubt many writers would want to be friends with you…

There are insecure loonies in all walks of life, not just the writing world. And there are arrogant blowhards, too.

JIMBO:

I also can’t be friends with people who are betting looking than me.

I can’t wear certain pants because they make me look to fat.

I only do seminars on the left side of the stage because hey, that’s my good side.

I only hire writers who are shorter than me. But if they’re really good, I’ll just make them walk alongside me in a ditch; that way we look the same height.

And occasionally I write posts on websites that are meant to be ironic and sarcastic. Then I laugh to myself when people take it seriously.:)

Kevin: I withdraw my previous comment, and substitute this one: Sorry, I suck at teh intarnet…

I hate it when people take my online sarcasm seriously, but then I go and do it to someone else. Sheesh. Please forgive me - unless you are taller than me, in which case I want nothing to do with you.

Jimbo:

Just so we can be clear…how tall are you anyway?

Not only do I forgive you but I’m quite jealous that you got a rockin’ name like Jimbo. I wanted people to call me, “The Kevster” but I was sued by the RIAA for copyright infringement.

Anyone have any objections to “Kevarino”?

Do people really ask you who you hang out with? This seems silly to me, but what do I know.

Craig,

I get what you’re saying, 100%. The problem with me is, well, my friend writers are not very good most of the time (not many in the WGA). It’s awkward, and to be honest, annoying. I give notes when they ASK - 9 out of 10 agree with my points, but then most say they don’t want to make changes right now, or they’ve moved on. This is a week later, mind you. So why did they ask, ya know?

The only way I have found having writer friends works: it’s great to have writer buds to bounce ideas off of mid draft - when I’ve painted myself into a corner. I like to create situations for characters that would have any reader asking, “Holy crap, how are they going to get out of this one?!” Only problem is, I’m so tough on my characters, my planned solution isn’t good enough and I get stuck asking myself the same question.

But outside of a brief “Hey, how would you get Character A out of Situation B,” I try and keep my writer relationships to beer buddies and war stories. Guiness anyone?

By the way, it was great meeting you last night at the WGA.

Michael Tabb

Michael:

Likewise!

I think I’ll probably do a little post in here about free rewrites again. There was one we did back when…but it’s time for an update.

So I guess the wee hours of late Fridays and Saturdays at Canter’s on Fairfax is no longer the cool hip hangout for cool hip writers? Not that it was a convenient drive for me anyway, all the way out here in Malibu brush fire country.

I love the freak show at the Starbuck’s on PCH in Malibu. The last time I was there, a “movie producer” was insisting that I have a look at his latest movie - he was selling the videos from his grocery cart (where all his other worldly possessions were piled).

Kevarino: I’m one inch high, and four feet wide.

I think the solution is clear here - hang out with normal, decent writers, but avoid the crappy wannabes. You can spot the decent ones, they don’t burst into tears when you dare to suggest their latest work isn’t quite a masterpiece.

Huh.

This seems to be something with features specifically.

I know that novelists for the most part, love to hang out with other writers. Without wanting to escape.

Same goes for the TV scribes I’ve encountered, including myself.

Perhaps it’s because TV isn’t as singular as features - there’s always a staff of writers.

But then that doesn’t explain why prose writers enjoy it…

Artists - that’s where I reckon it’s at.

Since striking out for pastures new (i.e. non-screenwriting) I’ve had the pleasure and privilege of getting to know (and working with) a bunch of talented artists. They all have wonderful imaginations, great storytelling ability, but for the most part they can’t (and don’t want to) write. So not only do they come up with stuff that I want to steal, they want me to take it.

Craig, I also withdraw my last comment.

People in the scribosphere are so friggin’ helpful that I actually had an answer BEFORE I completed the post asking for help/ideas. Ah, the power of the Internets. I do look forward to helping other youngsters to get in good with the Guild some day soon. Like, the day we’re treated like grown-ups.

Alone, Atlas laughs hysterically, transitions into sobbing.

You know what? The Algonquin Round Table isn’t even that romantic. I just went there last week with a friend of mine and had a four hundred dollar vodka tonic. Also I was dressed in my usual thuggish way and I received a number of bad looks from the clientele, who were all riding high on how wonderful it was to have the privelege of eating “Dorothy Parker Burgers” (yes, it’s on the menu: $14.95) in the moribund hub of Manhattan literati.

I see what you mean though, I’d much rather have friends who don’t ask me about what I’m writing. My life is boring.

Ahhh, occasionally while wallowing in spec-monkey self-pity, you need a group of friends that do so understand. As non-writer types, go “huh, wotchatalkingaboutwillis?” and change the subject as fast as possible and/or move away with weird glances. And you want people who don’t freak out over the usual way way extreme over-technical analysis. But then I get sick of the eternal angst too.

Basically, it’s like an investment strategy, be diversified. Cutting off writers, will slice out vital oxygen and needed feedback. But a steady diet of writers will drive you insane and make you a horridly boring elitest.

But talking shop is dreadfully banal in reality. Shop talk is what I get from the books, scr(i)pt and blogs. It doesn’t always hold up very well in real-world translations. Though a more successful mentor would be great, but first you have to be a success itself. ;)

By the time they re-convened in Hollywood to whore themselves out, the Algonquin folks weren’t about writing, or even being witty. Only about drinking. They hung out at Musso & Frank’s, where Faulkner would wander behind the bar to mix his own mint juleps. Writing just hasn’t been the same since alcoholism went out of style. JGTH, “THINGS THEY WON’T TELL YOU IN FILM SCHOOL”

Planning the escape route. Yes, I’m familiar with that. Especially when other writers go into hyper-intellectual mode, speak slowly looking up at the ceiling and waving their hands around. When all I want to talk about is what happened on ER the night before. Otherwise, I’d be at home writing, not sitting around and talking about writing.

Craig,

You may not be unique, but you’re hardly the rule. The majority of my friends are writers - some in the same arena (features) as me, some not. Most of them have plenty of other writer friends as well, and, in fact, one of the things I know we’ve all laughed about in the past is the absurd notion that writers are all competitive with each other.

I’ve found that nobody is as supportive as other writers because nobody else really understands what we go through.

In fact, most of the writers I know are all good friends with other writers. Your specific situation may not be universal at all…

Alcoholism is out of style?