Thursday, May 28, 2009

The Vomit Draft

That's what my latest screenwriting professor calls the first draft of any screenplay: the vomit draft. He says it's the draft where we just have to get it onto the page, and we can't take the time to make it look pretty, that's what the second through forty-seventh drafts are for. This draft, this first semblance of a story, is just the slightest hint of the skeleton that will become our script. The good news? Mine is done.

Yep. Done. At 4:30pm today. About eight weeks after I started writing it. Eight long weeks of vomiting. Eight long weeks of writing pages, reading pages, rewriting pages, throwing pages in the recycle bin, starting new versions, changing opening scenes, writing jokes that weren't funny, writing jokes that were funny, writing jokes that crossed the line, writing jokes that even I didn't get. Eight long weeks of sitting in the chair, staring at the wall, looking at the notes on my board above my computer:

  • Think about dilemma, subtext, context, progressive complications, and stakes.
  • What is the moment about? the scene about? the sequence about? the act about? the movie about?
  • "Each minute of procrastination robs you of a minute of accomplishment." (Damn you Jewel Quest!)
  • Have an attitude of expectancy.
  • What is the simple, emotional journey?
  • Comedy constants: be specific, remember the rule of threes, etc.
  • Summer 2011
  • Screenplay by Sarah Knapp
  • Directed by Sarah Knapp
And now I get to start on the list sitting next to my mousepad. The items I need to address/to fix/to change/to improve that I was not allowed to go back to until I finished the draft. The stuff I am dying to work on. The character I need to develop. The jokes I wrote "FUNNIER" next to. The hilarious scene that played so well in my mind and so badly on the page.

One hundred and five pages. And then I got to write those three little words that are glorious to any screenwriter: Fade to black. I wasn't sure it was gonna get done there for a while last week, when I was on page forty-seven. When I had no idea what the climax was going to be or how to get the main character to end up with the right girl. When I thought, and had written, the entire second act and part of the third in Hawaii and then decided to move it to Los Angeles and Vegas. But it happened. It got done. Deadlines are great motivators.

I'll let it sit tonight and part of tomorrow. I'll read a friend's screenplay, do some laundry, grade some papers. And then I'll dig back in. I'll see if the jokes are any good. I'll read the dialogue aloud and figure out if that's how these characters really talk to their best friends. I'll color in some of the blank spots and throw a few wrenches in for good measure. And next Tuesday, come hell or high water, I'll have a second draft. Because that's what us NBA players do. We bring it.

1 comment:

mommaof3 said...

I'm through with standing in line
To clubs we'll never get in
It's like the bottom of the ninth
And I'm never gonna win
This life hasn't turned out
Quite the way I want it to be

(Tell me what you want)

I want a brand new house
On an episode of Cribs
And a bathroom I can play baseball in
And a king size tub big enough
For ten plus me

(So what you need?)

I'll need a credit card that's got no limit
And a big black jet with a bedroom in it
Gonna join the mile high club
At thirty-seven thousand feet

(Been there, done that)

I want a new tour bus full of old guitars
My own star on Hollywood Boulevard
Somewhere between Cher and
James Dean is fine for me

(So how you gonna do it?)

I'm gonna trade this life for fortune and fame
I'd even cut my hair and change my name

[Chorus:]
'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars
And live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat
And we'll hang out in the coolest bars
In the VIP with the movie stars
Every good gold digger's
Gonna wind up there
Every Playboy bunny
With her bleach blond hair

Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar
Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar

I wanna be great like Elvis without the tassels
Hire eight body guards that love to beat up assholes
Sign a couple autographs
So I can eat my meals for free
(I'll have the quesadilla on the house)
I'm gonna dress my ass
With the latest fashion
Get a front door key to the Playboy mansion
Gonna date a centerfold that loves to
Blow my money for me
(So how you gonna do it?)
I'm gonna trade this life for fortune and fame
I'd even cut my hair and change my name

[Chorus]

And we'll hide out in the private rooms
With the latest dictionary and today's who's who
They'll get you anything with that evil smile
Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial, well

Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar

I'm gonna sing those songs
That offend the censors
Gonna pop my pills from a pez dispenser

I'll get washed-up singers writing all my songs
lip sync 'em every night so I don't get 'em wrong

[Chorus]

And we'll hide out in the private rooms
With the latest dictionary and today's who's who
They'll get you anything with that evil smile
Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial

Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar
Hey hey I wanna be a rockstar