Writing the Goddamn Screenplay Already

Hellooooo, Readers!

And helloooo, Autumn. NEPA winters are long so I don't mind when summer ingratiates itself well into October and November. On the other hand, who doesn't relish the break in humidity? Last night, it was a sauna in my house. This weekend, it might only be in the 60s. The pendulum of air pressure can wreak havoc on a girl's sinuses, but who doesn't love changing leaves and apple picking?

And now all my kids are in school. That's right. It's just me and my dog from 9 to 4. I've been working on a little porch decor project, finishing my outline for a detective fic, scouring the job listings, AND finally writing that screenplay.

For years I have been wanting to write a television show, which probably sounds impractical. I'm a mom of three who lives in the Poconos. I'm not getting staffed on a Netflix series. But it is a dream. I think I'm well-suited for TV writing, I just realized it too late. And, sadly, there is such a thing as missing the moment when you have three kids. And yet, screw it.


I asked for Syd Field screenplay books for the holidays. I studied the pilot scripts of my favorite programs. I would listen to film and TV podcasts. But I never got the courage to start my own script. I kept thinking I should just focus on my novel writing. And only novel writing.

But the lure kept tugging.

I deliberated taking a screenwriting workshop, but couldn't justify the expense.

I was afraid it would all be too hard. That I'd get bogged down by the formatting, overwhelmed with camera directions. That I would struggle to describe what was in my head because I would have to write it all from the viewpoint of a camera lens.

I thought, I know I can write, but can I write this?

But I have spent so much time analyzing and examining television. Trying to figure out exactly how a scene I am watching might look on paper. And then I googled screenwriting software and found Writer Solo (shout-out!), a free cloud-based screenwriting program. It's dummy proof. I'm the proof.

Two weeks ago, I opened up the app and set to work adapting my latest novel. After all, I am very familiar with the source material. I know the heroes and the villains. I know what it all looks like. I know the murderer and the string of events to get there.

Do I know how to turn a novel into an eight-episode season? No. 
Have I constructed subplots to round out the story? Not yet.
Am I overwriting? Probably.
Will this ever get picked up? Not in a million years.
Am I having fun? Yes.
Do I want to keep doing it? Yes.

As of now, I have drafted 47 pages of a roughly 60-page script. That's a one-hour show!
It's a draft. I have to go back and see how it compares to proper, finished scripts. I have to have a screenwriter read it, tell me if it's amateurish (which I'm sure it is) and where I should revise.

But the point is, I freaking did it. The thing that scared me is no longer scary.

I seized an opportunity (free software + chunks of uninterrupted time) and did the thing I wanted to do.

I am incredibly proud of myself.

There are lots of writers who work in various mediums--novels, screenplays, journalism. Maybe I can be one of those people.

Because scouring the job ads when you've been out of work for a decade is demoralizing. Because living in a rural area where there isn't a lot of job opportunities for over-educated moms means I need to think bigger than I used to.

It means I need to do the shit that scares me. Now. And not later.

Trying something new

FADE IN:

INT. SUBURBAN HOME OFFICE -- MORNING 

KIM, in her late 30s, sits at a cluttered desk in a guest bedroom/office space and types furiously on her laptop. She stops and addresses the audience.

                      KIM
I'm trying to write a screenplay.
If it isn't obvious, I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

There are shouts and the sound of children squealing, their feet scampering across the floor, and then the sound of something crashing. Kim looks up at the ceiling.

                     KIM
That can't be good. I'll be right back.

She jumps from her chair and hustles upstairs.

***

Hey, folks. It's KGG. In case you haven't noticed, this little snippet is my attempt at screenwriting. Pretty pathetic, right? Well, this scene, yeah, if you can call it that. But not, trying a new format.

I've been itching to learn screenwriting. Not because I have a great idea for a film. [I wish I could back in time and tell my 22-year-old self to be adventurous and move to LA and work in TV, but that ship has long sailed.] But because I want to learn something new. To challenge myself in a way that is different from novel writing. To vary my routine and my work. Some authors might try a new genre, I'm going to try a new medium.

For Hanukkah, I got Syd Field's Screenplay: The Foundation of Screenwriting and The Screenwriter's Workbook, two must-have tomes. I was always a writer, but I had to teach myself story craft. I've spent years (still am) reading books on plot, characterization, world-building. No different with screenwriting. Would I love to take a screenwriting class? Yes! Can I afford to do so right now? No. So, right now I'm analyzing scripts and reading books and listening to the Writers Panel podcast. I do have an idea for a television show that would be fun to work on in between novel projects. In the meantime, I sort of walk around narrating things like in a screenplay. "Kim pushes the grocery cart through the store. She picks up a box of cereal, reads the ingredients, grimaces, puts it back on the shelf, and continues down the aisle just as a young boy comes running around the corner, knocking over a display of Corn Pops."

It's not Scorsese, people.

Some may be wondering why I'm bothering. I mean, I have limited time: shouldn't my focus be on novel writing? Except, screenwriting does inform my novel writing. Reading the Veronica Mars pilot script reminds me that I should incorporate more snappy dialogue into my scenes. Studying Don Draper's mannerisms tells me that my characters need more personality quirks to make them real. Studying Mickey Milkovich's speech in Shameless teaches me to build characters with a distinct way of talking. And goddammit, use props. I am always struggling on what people should do with their hands while they're having a discussion.

I do plan on writing a screenplay of my TV pilot. One day. It's a learning curve, but I plan to tackle it.

Plenty of novelists write screenplays. Do you?