I started to write my first treatment. In screenwriting terms, this is, basically, a screenplay written in long form. There aren't any rules in how you write treatments. You can include dialogue, you can write detailed, to the second, descriptions (back story) of your characters. The writer can describe scenes in as much detail as they would like. For them (damn) screenwriters that get paid for writing screenplays, a treatment is all that it may take, pre or post pitch, to get it sold.
Are treatments necessary? No. It’s the screenplay (story and characters) that gets sold. But can it help? I am in the process of learning this. In reading anything I can get a hold of, in regards to successful screenwriters, I have read that this can be part of their process. Some screenwriters don’t write treatments, some write outlines, and others write both (or a combination of both 'scriptment"). Some of my heroes just stand in front of a computer, or pad of paper, and write scenes and let the story/characters take place in front of them. I have read that some professional screenwriters will write 40 to 50+ page treatments. Other screenwriters are solely into outlines (I hate outlines). I read a treatment of a 2+ hour movie that was written in about twenty five pages where ten or more of those pages had nothing to do with what we saw on the screen.
What am I to do? Are treatments only pertinent to screenplays before they are written? Is this a clue that my current (45 page) screenplay I’m writing isn’t worth the hours I’ve spent at the computer combined with the hundreds of hours thinking about this screenplay? Am I trying to find something that isn‘t there? Is my main character, the story is based on, relevant? Does he have a voice others want to see?
Crap!
Friday
Monday
The Oscars
I have many comments about the outcome of the Oscars. Since this blog is specifically and intentionally about writing, I have a few comments…
First of all, I thought it was a brilliant show - good writing (yes, even the Oscars are written). Well done.
Second of all, I was so happy to see that they decided to do the categories in steps… from the beginning to the end, of how movies are made. As a screenwriter, I was happy to see that the screenwriting categories were given out early in the show (see my earlier blogs regarding the nominees). I was most proud to see how the writers of the show decided to go about presenting the screenwriting nominees by including the words of the screenwriters along with the actors, on screen.
My mom, whom every word I write goes through first, always says how hard it is to read screenplays. I hope this presentation, the Oscars deciding to go with, helps her be more comfortable with the words I, proudly, give her to read. Screenplays are written for the screen. It is hard to see the words unless you are able to connect the words with images. The 2009 Oscar show was able to do this. I only hope she was watching. I value her opinion more than anybody.
The last, and most important comment I would make… is a big one. Endings.
Every person who wants to be a (successful) screenwriter, reads Syd Field’s “Screenplay - The Foundations of Screenwriting”. It is the first book I bought and read regarding screenwriting. The first thing that made me think that reading his book wasn’t necessary, was that he insisted (my words) that you know the ending of every screenplay you write.
Bullocks, I thought.
I reached back into my memory of watching the Oscars. Every time, I can remember, they rushed through the last three categories… Best Lead Actor, Best Lead Actress, and Best Picture.
In a three hour extravaganza, why do they rush the three most (excluding the screenwriting) categories in a ten minute period? The answer is simple… they want to keep the audience’s attention as long as possible. That is why the break up the categories in between musical/crap pieces.
RE: the Ending.
We are all waiting for the winners. We want an ending. We want to know the winners and losers of the biggest races. We want to turn off the TV with an answer - a solution. It’s the same with movies.
Oh Crap! I just made a discovery (in my own mind). The Oscars are presented just like a movie. It is structured just like a film (My fascination with screenwriting structure continues). There’s an introduction (the main character/host invites us to take a journey with him)… our interests are peaked by giving a Supporting Actress award (inciting incident)… They tease us with the Best Directing award, until finally giving it… and they go to the end of the second act by presenting the audience with those great actors that pasted away - in a montage. We are all, emotionally, engaged with what will happen next. One more twist before the big categories go out…
The Supporting Actor category followed by…
The ending.
God Bless movies/story
First of all, I thought it was a brilliant show - good writing (yes, even the Oscars are written). Well done.
Second of all, I was so happy to see that they decided to do the categories in steps… from the beginning to the end, of how movies are made. As a screenwriter, I was happy to see that the screenwriting categories were given out early in the show (see my earlier blogs regarding the nominees). I was most proud to see how the writers of the show decided to go about presenting the screenwriting nominees by including the words of the screenwriters along with the actors, on screen.
My mom, whom every word I write goes through first, always says how hard it is to read screenplays. I hope this presentation, the Oscars deciding to go with, helps her be more comfortable with the words I, proudly, give her to read. Screenplays are written for the screen. It is hard to see the words unless you are able to connect the words with images. The 2009 Oscar show was able to do this. I only hope she was watching. I value her opinion more than anybody.
The last, and most important comment I would make… is a big one. Endings.
Every person who wants to be a (successful) screenwriter, reads Syd Field’s “Screenplay - The Foundations of Screenwriting”. It is the first book I bought and read regarding screenwriting. The first thing that made me think that reading his book wasn’t necessary, was that he insisted (my words) that you know the ending of every screenplay you write.
Bullocks, I thought.
I reached back into my memory of watching the Oscars. Every time, I can remember, they rushed through the last three categories… Best Lead Actor, Best Lead Actress, and Best Picture.
In a three hour extravaganza, why do they rush the three most (excluding the screenwriting) categories in a ten minute period? The answer is simple… they want to keep the audience’s attention as long as possible. That is why the break up the categories in between musical/crap pieces.
RE: the Ending.
We are all waiting for the winners. We want an ending. We want to know the winners and losers of the biggest races. We want to turn off the TV with an answer - a solution. It’s the same with movies.
Oh Crap! I just made a discovery (in my own mind). The Oscars are presented just like a movie. It is structured just like a film (My fascination with screenwriting structure continues). There’s an introduction (the main character/host invites us to take a journey with him)… our interests are peaked by giving a Supporting Actress award (inciting incident)… They tease us with the Best Directing award, until finally giving it… and they go to the end of the second act by presenting the audience with those great actors that pasted away - in a montage. We are all, emotionally, engaged with what will happen next. One more twist before the big categories go out…
The Supporting Actor category followed by…
The ending.
God Bless movies/story
Friday
Poetry
Two things happened to me I never thought was possible. One is that I wrote some poetry last night. The second is that I am actually going to share it.
This is my "Smile" collection:
Down around the corner, just outside the carnival lined streets…
Under the lighted sky, sits…
One with a wilted, second hand dress and long, blackened eyelashes…
The carnival crowd, dressed in smiles, holding cotton candy…
doesn’t recognize her.
It rained. Others left. She, with a dress and long blackened eyelash sits…
In the front row - with a smile.
The bike was built for three. Three seats. Three pedals.
In the front seat, with his feet moving… round, and, slowly… round again…
Is a man riding uphill.
The top of the hill seemed so far when he started.
Now he sits, out of breath, with a smile looking…
…downhill.
The tarp covered a hundred people…
Except for one.
She liked rain. She liked the feeling of being on the outside.
“Come in. We have room.”
With a smile, she says…
“No thanks.”
It was the differences she hated.
Why were others different from me?
I am beautiful, but they take difference to me.
Why don’t they see me… my beauty?
“Freak!”
That’s what I’m saying. Why does that boy say that?
“He doesn’t smile the way you do. He’s jealous.”
She thanked her friend by giving him a high five with her left hand.
Her other arm and legs stopped functioning after the accident.
It was the smile that gave him away.
He tried to hide it, but it always came out.
The good looking girl across the room saw his smile and…
Turned away.
The next girl around might like his smile, but…
Maybe not. Oh well.
Halloween.
The mask was picked out several months before.
You can’t be passive aggressive in the fall before the Christmas season.
Ghost, Goblin, Superman, or his favorite comic book villain…
The Joker.
I want to avoid the crowds. I’m not one for the crowds.
In his mirror he’s had since forth grade, the man smiles in a way…
Only the Joker could admire.
Falling down never crossed her mind.
Spelling is spelling.
Rehearse. I must rehearse.
I know the words. I know the words. I know the words.
There are rules. I know the rules.
Grammar. I “am” grammar. I see things in my mind.
Letters become pronouns. Pronouns become…
Stop that! Syllable by syllable.
Listen to yourself. You know this.
What will I wear? Will it distract me from spelling?
My mother groomed me to be special - what I should wear.
I am special. Exceptional, festive, out of the ordinary, primary, peculiar, first…
“You’ll be late. Get your butt out there. Don’t make me look stupid.”
That’s my mom. She smiled when I won my first prize.
Line dancing was really great when my grandfather joined me.
With Grandma’s 100th birthday, he wasn’t able to come this time.
Too bad for him… it was two for Tuesdays.
Grandpa loved two for Tuesdays. He would often dance his best on these nights.
“Two dances in one was a bargain.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but I understood his smile when he said it.
I’m sure Grandpa likes Grandma but…
I know he likes my smile more than hers.
He talked about marriage the day after meeting my mother.
It was the smile and the warm greeting she gave him, I think.
In a way I think he missed it - my smile.
My best friend warned me of this.
“Don’t let him meet your mother. She has a smile bigger than mars.”
My friend’s astrological inclinations aside, I think she was right…
He liked what I could not give him.
She pardoned herself from her company that evening.
She had to smile. She had to smile.
“I’m sick of those that don’t smile.” She says.
He didn’t smoke, but he was caught outside of the employee entrance on his way to work…
listening to some happy person talking about something between each inhale and exhale.
“I’m sorry, but I really want to see a smile.” She says.
“I smile”, says the man on his way to work.
“You hide it well.”
“I only share it to those that really need it.”
She tried to sleep off her smile from the night before. She couldn’t.
You can’t blame her, it was a long day of smiling. It started in the morning.
The tenth smile in an hour, her new child gave her, was only the beginning.
It continued when her life partner brought home a dozen chocolate cupcakes and….
A new attitude.
She wanted her more than she ever thought was possible.
This is my "Smile" collection:
Down around the corner, just outside the carnival lined streets…
Under the lighted sky, sits…
One with a wilted, second hand dress and long, blackened eyelashes…
The carnival crowd, dressed in smiles, holding cotton candy…
doesn’t recognize her.
It rained. Others left. She, with a dress and long blackened eyelash sits…
In the front row - with a smile.
The bike was built for three. Three seats. Three pedals.
In the front seat, with his feet moving… round, and, slowly… round again…
Is a man riding uphill.
The top of the hill seemed so far when he started.
Now he sits, out of breath, with a smile looking…
…downhill.
The tarp covered a hundred people…
Except for one.
She liked rain. She liked the feeling of being on the outside.
“Come in. We have room.”
With a smile, she says…
“No thanks.”
It was the differences she hated.
Why were others different from me?
I am beautiful, but they take difference to me.
Why don’t they see me… my beauty?
“Freak!”
That’s what I’m saying. Why does that boy say that?
“He doesn’t smile the way you do. He’s jealous.”
She thanked her friend by giving him a high five with her left hand.
Her other arm and legs stopped functioning after the accident.
It was the smile that gave him away.
He tried to hide it, but it always came out.
The good looking girl across the room saw his smile and…
Turned away.
The next girl around might like his smile, but…
Maybe not. Oh well.
Halloween.
The mask was picked out several months before.
You can’t be passive aggressive in the fall before the Christmas season.
Ghost, Goblin, Superman, or his favorite comic book villain…
The Joker.
I want to avoid the crowds. I’m not one for the crowds.
In his mirror he’s had since forth grade, the man smiles in a way…
Only the Joker could admire.
Falling down never crossed her mind.
Spelling is spelling.
Rehearse. I must rehearse.
I know the words. I know the words. I know the words.
There are rules. I know the rules.
Grammar. I “am” grammar. I see things in my mind.
Letters become pronouns. Pronouns become…
Stop that! Syllable by syllable.
Listen to yourself. You know this.
What will I wear? Will it distract me from spelling?
My mother groomed me to be special - what I should wear.
I am special. Exceptional, festive, out of the ordinary, primary, peculiar, first…
“You’ll be late. Get your butt out there. Don’t make me look stupid.”
That’s my mom. She smiled when I won my first prize.
Line dancing was really great when my grandfather joined me.
With Grandma’s 100th birthday, he wasn’t able to come this time.
Too bad for him… it was two for Tuesdays.
Grandpa loved two for Tuesdays. He would often dance his best on these nights.
“Two dances in one was a bargain.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but I understood his smile when he said it.
I’m sure Grandpa likes Grandma but…
I know he likes my smile more than hers.
He talked about marriage the day after meeting my mother.
It was the smile and the warm greeting she gave him, I think.
In a way I think he missed it - my smile.
My best friend warned me of this.
“Don’t let him meet your mother. She has a smile bigger than mars.”
My friend’s astrological inclinations aside, I think she was right…
He liked what I could not give him.
She pardoned herself from her company that evening.
She had to smile. She had to smile.
“I’m sick of those that don’t smile.” She says.
He didn’t smoke, but he was caught outside of the employee entrance on his way to work…
listening to some happy person talking about something between each inhale and exhale.
“I’m sorry, but I really want to see a smile.” She says.
“I smile”, says the man on his way to work.
“You hide it well.”
“I only share it to those that really need it.”
She tried to sleep off her smile from the night before. She couldn’t.
You can’t blame her, it was a long day of smiling. It started in the morning.
The tenth smile in an hour, her new child gave her, was only the beginning.
It continued when her life partner brought home a dozen chocolate cupcakes and….
A new attitude.
She wanted her more than she ever thought was possible.
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