How a Big Life Leads to Better Writing
The other night I read a script that could be simply and, without question, described as one thing and one thing only: Derivative.
The first act was almost 100% a poor man’s INCEPTION, the second and third act had bothersome parallels with EDGE OF TOMORROW, conceit and all. I had communicated with the writer previously, who wrote to me passionately about the pursuit of his chosen profession. I knew how badly he wanted it. But as all the movie references started to unfold before me page after page as I was reading, I had to admit that I wasn’t surprised. And I wasn’t surprised for one single reason: I knew the writer was young. Not-yet-legal-to-drink sort of young.
The writer had reached out to me about “finding his voice,” and I knew first-hand that voice is very hard to harness when you’re young and haven’t yet experienced much. By some miracle, I managed to have my own script set up a million years ago when I was just 23. Mind you, by the time I was 23 I had lived on my own for 6 years. Worked production for 4. Traveled all over the world. And back then, I thought I knew EVERYTHING. I was convinced I understood my voice. I knew what I had to say. It was only when I looked back from the safety of my 30s that I began to understand just how little I knew back then.
Don’t get me wrong: In my many years doing what I do, I’ve met plenty of young, talented writers. I’ve seen those writers, who jumped into their chosen career in their early or mid-twenties go on to become staffed writers in their late twenties, show creators in their early/mid-thirties, land writing assignments and sell their feature scripts around that same age. But the one thing those writers had in common? An abundance of life experience, to set them apart from the pack and help crystalize what it was that they had to say.
Writing for film and television is tricky; after all, you’re often inspired to do so by other movies and TV shows that first blew you away, that enlightened a truth, that spoke to your desires, your hopes, your humanity. Today, when my writers, be they professional or emerging, develop new work, the question often comes up: “What’s the comp here?”, i.e., what are some comparable titles in the same space? The directive then is deceptively simple: Go watch it. Learn it, so that you are fully aware of the tapestry you will be adding to. Then write something wholly your own and original.
But a new project, be it a screenplay or television pilot, should not be an homage to all the TV shows and movies that inspired it (STRANGER THINGS notwithstanding). Instead, it should take guidance from story mechanisms, characters or themes found previously and set the writer off on a whole new path. Because the last thing you want your script to be is too much of This meets That. You want your screenplay or TV pilot to be the same, to have a clear place within a genre, but decidedly different. You want it to be wholly yours. You want it to never, ever be… DERIVATIVE.
In the industry, DERIVATIVE is akin to a kiss of death. A dirty word. It speaks to a lack of originality, a blandness, an absence of original voice. It is, then, and as I previously blogged, the one thing you don’t want your screenplay to be (LINK TO BLOGPOST).
But how do you avoid it? How do you make sure that while fitting within a genre and drawing inspiration from works that came before it, your work is in no way derivative? The answer is again, deceptively simple, and seemingly one that is ripped right out of the title sequence of FX’s POSE: The answer is to LIVE.
You can’t develop a wholly unique voice, become the interesting storyteller you want to be, without knowing and experiencing that hard-to-define thing that is your self. Your self not in theory, but in action. Your self as it shows up in challenging moments. Your self that shows up in the choices you make, and how you experience the world.
A few months ago, a frustrated writer I’ve known for a while showed up to lament feeling in a creative rut. He felt like he had little if anything left to say, nothing to bring to the page anymore, despite the success and opportunity previous projects had generated. To use his words, he felt like he’s just chewing the same old very stale gum. The writer turned to other working writer friends for advice. Their two cents? Pack your bags and go travel. The writer had been single for six years, so… sign onto a dating app and get out there. Fall in love. In short? Go fill your well of experience. That is the surest and fastest way to infuse your writing with your own interests, world view, and unique stories, moments and themes prevalent in your own life.
When I interviewed working TV writer, novelist and TV writing teacher at Script Anatomy Hollie Overton for my WHEN ARE YOU READY TO STAFF? blog post, she aptly stated:
“If you’re right out of college, then I’d wager (your first script) isn’t the one. It’s not impossible. Maybe you’re a Lena Dunham prodigy, but usually, you still have a lot to learn, not just about writing, and the business, but about the world in general. Your ideas need more time to mature. This is the time to get life experience, get a job on an agent or manager’s desk and build your contacts. Do zany jobs that will make you interesting in a writer’s room and give you a unique outlook on the world.”
It may sound overly simplistic, but it’s true. Living a rich enough life beyond the writing, one that continues to affect, influence and shape your interests and your point of view is ultimately what is bound to keep your writing vibrant, dynamic, and fresh. In an industry that is eternally looking for those voice-y and noisy writers, getting a sense of the writer, not only the unfolding story, on the page is critical for initial interest that can one day turn into ongoing screenwriting success.
I agree, lots of script writers and script consultants need to live life and get a full life. And push themselves to get married, take adventures, take risks, makes friends , start a business, move out of the parents home, date a lot until you find an okay soul mate (lol), but overall, you must understand your script plan and your work plan and your social plan – might not go as plan. Reason – that’s life. So the best director work with a tight budget – and when the are supervised that’s when they do their best work. Money , easy from others, are are sin. You will not progress as a script writer if your life was made easy or easy. Take yourself out of your comfort zone. And live life and write to escape misery.
To further add – life and writing is not a science. People and producers and directors will agree and disagree with you. And we will boss each other. And we will fight. The trick is to roll with the flow. And find leaders who are not afraid to see both side of the coin. And take risks. If think you know all about script writing – well – you will a rude awakening when producers don’t like you or you writing. But they might like you if you have the clout. But before you get the clout – you must mature up and understand personalities in Hollywood. The good, the bad and the ugly. Those with big money will always call the shot. So, be patient and learn and make big money. Then afterwards you can break the rules. Because – presenting a movie like THE MATRIX is an art. It’s not a business or a science.
I live a secluded life as a spec script writer ever since I’ve suffered a dissapointment in love life…
I often dream and wonder what could have been like, what life would I have had.
I always thought that if I was to stay with her and live like most people(marriage, regular day job, going out, etc), perhaps I would not have had the time or interest to keep writing and rewriting the screenplays I wrote in the meantime..
But reading this, I just had a question for you, and it would mean a lot if you could answer it:
Does it mean that not only did I had time for these screenplays, but they would have actually been a lot better?:) Would that life experience actually increased their quality or how interesting they were?
Thank you for doing this!
Hi Joseph –
Thanks for sharing this with me. I am sorry to hear about the loss that you suffered. I find that life experience informs can inject the work with authenticity and meaning. This doesn’t mean that inexperienced people can’t write a great script, or that a great script will come from anyone with meaningful life experiences, but overall, I do think that sowing your own emotions and experiences into the work can go a long way to setting it apart.
I agree that life experience is crucial in developing something to write about. Otherwise the only scripts would be about high school, bad music and coffee shops. It’s interesting, though, that many of the people in the writing “business “ seem to be very young – a recent online video I saw (can’t remember where) of people offering advice from the standpoint of people in the industry was “cast” by people in their twenties at the oldest. It gives those of us who are s bit older pause to consider how viable we are in that version of reality. I am going to keep trying though, in the last year and a half I’ve written seven screenplays (and 2 novels) and once I pull back from pouring out my backlog of ideas, we’ll see what can happen.
Agree – I call it ‘self disruption’! Always finding ways to challenge yourself and get out of your comfort zone. Stasis is death – as they say…. but also it’s important to know when to pull back and get back on the dream boat. Some people don’t need at lot of experience to ‘fill up’ so to speak – emotional substance and memory. Others crave a lot of it. Perhaps it depends on what sort of personality type you are and how much life and craziness you want to grab hold of.
Thanks for this article, Lee. As a late-bloomer finally getting her ass in the chair to write, it’s assuring to know I have well of life experience to use and share. I know ageism is a real thing but fingers crossed, something might actually transpire. Thanks for what you do!