So someone asked me how I come up with my characters.

As self derived creatures in this culture, we were raised to focus on ourselves, not the people around us. So as a writer, its important to observe, note, observe, and note some more. I can imagine what someone would do, and that is helpful, but if I haven’t done it myself, how well do I know their thinking? And when it comes to writing, you have to know characters.

Now I will admit, I have known quite a few characters in my life. People that I have sat back and thought: there is no way that person is for real. And as well, I will say I have been guilty of putting some of those same characters in my writing. And so here is where the fun starts. Because, eccentricities are nice. But as writers, we have to get to the heart of the matter, and surface value isn’t nearly enough.

I came across a book not too long ago written by Victoria Lynn Schmidt, who was fed up with watching movies dominated by male roles. She wondered why females didn’t have more dominant roles, and why it was taboo for the film industry to capitalize on them. And lets face it, she had a point. Sure there were movies like 9 to 5, Broadcast News, and Annie Hall, but in these the female role wasn’t taken seriously. It was a lighter take on a woman’s journey. This bothered Schmidt. So she went on a journey of her own, to explore character not only for the female, but the male as well. and her book: 45 Master Characters, is a book that I think every writer should have on their shelf.

Schmidt's book


Schmidt delves into the mythological models of characters, and then relates them to characters we know through TV and film today.

Now mind you, this is a basis, not a complete walkthrough of characters. The creative aspect is up to you, but it is nice to have guidelines when you’re in a rut, and this book has been incredibly useful. Don’t get me wrong, I love to create characters, but understanding the archetype of your character will allow you to hone in on who that person really is.

So I am trying to stick to a blogging regime, even if it is writing crap. But lucky for you, tonight won’t be crap. Tonight, I am here to talk to you about something very important.

I got a call this week from a friend of mine to come over to his place and participate in a table read. Some of you might not know what this is so I’ll explain. A table read is when someone writes a script, then decides to have some of their friends come over and sit in while the script is being read aloud. The point of this is to get constructive criticism from the group as well as help the writer work through some of the problems in the script. Now, if there’s one thing that’s incredibly helpful with writing, its having other people read your writing aloud. I’ve never been a person to read my own stuff aloud, it doesn’t work out for me that way, though some people can hear it better (my inner voice doesn’t listen to itself to well). However, I highly recommend having other people read your writing aloud.

When I first was invited to the read, I was intrigued. I wanted to read my friend’s script on my own, give my own criticism without having to discuss my thoughts with everyone else in the room. So as interesting as this seemed, I was a bit leery. But this turned out to be one of the best things I have done in a long time. While I was there, listening to the collective, I realized there was so much to learn. I was in a room with people who had worked in the industry, people who knew what they were talking about. People who knew story. People that wanted to understand someone’s writing. They broke down things so much more simply that I ever could have imagined. They were incredibly helpful to my friend’s writing process, and more importantly, to mine. They answered questions I had about my own pilot (It was a TV pilot we were reading) without me having to ask. I learned that other writers were going through the same problems I had gone through in my writing process.

The more you put yourself out there, the more help you’re going to get…if you ask the right people. And that’s where the Catch-22 comes in. You can’t ask your uncle and brother and best friend and sister’s best friend to sit in on your table read. You need to ask people who can provide creative input – people who know, understand, and respect your craft.

I honestly learned more about writing a TV pilot in one night, than I had learned over the last couple years on my own. I was so impressed with the thoughts one person was putting out, I asked them if they’d do me the honor of reading my pilot and give some thoughts. They gladly agreed, and I cannot wait to get their feedback.

One of the thoughts I have toyed with for a long time but have yet to dive into is a writing group. Just another example of getting your writing out there in front of people, getting feedback, learning to take it on the chin. Sometimes it works for people, sometimes it doesn’t. I’ve heard of writer’s groups that are pretentious, and others that just get together and gab, and others that actually learn from the people within. Understandably, if you don’t find a proper shoe that fits your foot, don’t wear it. But its good to test the waters. (I’m all about analogies today) I, personally haven’t joined a writing group for a couple different reasons. One, I find it would force me to write, perhaps when I’m not ready to write (which may be a good thing). And two, I’ve heard too many bad stories of bad writing groups here in LA (something I should probably get over and just do it!)

Overall, the whole point is, in order to become a better writer, I think its important to get people to read your stuff. Its important to get criticism. Its important to learn from people that know what they’re talking about. It’s important to get positive or negative feedback, to see how others react to your writing. Its important to put your work on display so people can break it down, and eventually make you a better writer. In fact, I heard two people tonight specifically say, its an education they could have never gotten in school.

So I have been doing a lot of stuff lately outside of writing and it really slipped away from me…blogging, writing, taking photos. There’s really no excuse, just been busy. Sometimes all the technological fun has to take a backseat to life. But things have shaped up a bit and now its time to hop on the horse, settle in, and dig in my heels.

I had writer’s block for a long time. I’m not big on figuring out what to do once I have writer’s block. I see it as a way of my mind telling me I’m stressing too much about writing. When I stress, I draw a blank. When I draw a blank, I really draw a blank. But I never feel like the well is dry. It will rain. It will fill up again, and thoughts and ideas will flow. I must say though, when I have a deadline with subject I have studied, within parameters I know (like say if someone told me to write a spec for Dexter) then I could do it. That is much more different than coming up with completely new fresh ideas that have significance. Anyway, the writer’s block is gone, and now I feel like I barely have enough time in the day to get the writing/research done I need. There are some exciting things on my horizon.

The first being a short I am going to shoot. I wrote a short that’s about 8 minutes long. Its just all around fun. It pertains to the adventures of trying to sell a piece of furniture, and loosely based on my own experiences. I was going to try and shoot it by Thanksgiving, but this month has flown by so fast, I haven’t had time to even think about casting, storyboarding, gathering crew, etc. But as I do, I will post my trials and tribulations as they happen, and will have a shoot journal posted up her on the blog, so check back in…and of course I will put up the final product. I would like to get into preproduction in December, and get it shot early January.

I am working on another TV pilot. I will not divulge anything pertaining to my idea, as it must gestate for a while. But I will attempt to take you along the journey with me, so you get an idea of what its like to write a pilot, from concept to final product.

Finally, I am working on a movie script idea that I have had – the one I had in the dream not too long ago – and am researching. See, I should tell you the idea pertained to Northern Ireland and the IRA during the turf wars in the 50’s and 60’s. However, my Manager has told me “It would be too hard a sell”, so I am doing research on how to put it into modern day terms, perhaps somewhere here in the US. If I cannot do this, then Northern Ireland in the 50’s and 60’s it will be. It is something I am fighting myself over because overall the story works so well that it fits perfectly in that time and era. But honestly, how many movies have you seen pertaining to Northern Ireland and the IRA? And how successful have they been overall? I’ll answer that. Not many, and Not very. So it would be another example of me tackling something that would go against the grain of the industry. So who knows. The rebel in me wants to write it the way I dreamt it. The other part of me says hey, “You’re not gonna make any money in the industry if you go against all the rules in the way things are supposed to work.” So we’ll see.

A lot to blog about. A lot to keep busy with. I’ll keep you posted.

I have recently been given the ability to peer into my life. The retrospection has been big. It hit me with everything it had to offer, and I can look back with a big smile. You see, we can all live a life, but we can’t all live it well. And when afforded the opportunity to go back to the start, well, I think I will. I’m glad not to be running in circles in a room, watching my life unfold on a television, unable to do much about it. Running on the treadmill of life, another step, another breath. I’m so glad that isn’t me. And as I look back at things, at what coulda been, I can’t help but imagine what mighta been. There’s a different me, and I’m proud of the person I’ve become. Because I could have been sucked into something different, and not know the difference. That’s the scary part, not really knowing the difference. But I’m not better, no, just different. And thankful for the difference. Because nothing else compares to being happy with who you are, and who you know you will become…nothing.

This is supposed to be a blog about writing. And in order to write, a writer must understand themselves. That is what I am working toward.

So I’m trying to get back into the blogging thing. It’s been a while, and well, teacher, I’m tardy. But to be honest, my inspiration has been lacking, and I have no audience, so where’s my motivation again?

Its within. And its been a copout to say anything else.

So onto the next thing.

I was over at a buddy’s house tonight, watching his dog. While I was there, I was really trying to figure out how to get my fantasy football scores up on my computer, and how to get the Internet running on my laptop. Also, I had turned on the TV in hopes of catching the big Minnesota vs. Green Bay game, but the TV wouldn’t work for me either. So I was left with small blips of audio here and there, and a dog. And me and the dog kept sharing looks. She was bored, as was I. She was waiting for something to happen, as was I. She was excited for a treat, as was I. And I started to think about what life would be like if I were a dog.

I’m gonna imagine I’m a dog now.

Oh boy oh boy. Someone’s at the door. I need to bark so my master will hear me. I need to let him know that I am attentive, and who the hell is this guy all loud and noisy trying to sneak up on my lawn anyway?

Wait, my master’s leaving. Where…where’s he going? And whose this idiot whose watching me? Excuse me? I need to bark my disapproval…nothing. Nothing at all. I could pee in his shoes…but I won’t.

LATER

I gotta pee. I’m gonna yap until I get his attention. Whoa, Whoa, whoa, whoa. And what makes you think I can understand that silly language of yours? I hear you talking but you ain’t sayin’ nothing…

I gotta pee. I’ll stare at him.

I gotta pee. I’ll whine by the door. Whoa. That pillow belongs on the couch bud…

I gotta pee and now poop. He’s not watching. Come on dude, I gotta go. For reals this time.

He’s not looking. I’m not sure what to do. I know. I’m gonna fart. I’m gonna fart next to him. I’m gonna sit down right here next to him and…wait, wait….ahhhhhh. Now look directly at him. Wait. wait…come on….

Dammit, he got up to go to that other room and run his human faucet. Its not fair. I wanna run my doggy faucet. Bastard.

I gotta go, I gotta go, I gotta go. Okay. He just sat down. I’m gonna curl up next to him. I’m gonna squeeze and….uh…ahhhhh. Yes. Oh, wait he just looked at me. I don’t know what he said, but I heard my name. Yes. Victory. We’re goning outside!

OUTSIDE

Oh boy. I’m so excited to be outside. Never give a dog too much water or…..ahhhhh.
I hope he doesn’t take me on the short walk. I’m gonna hold out on him if he does. I can wait to go poop, I really can. In the meantime I’m gonna sniff at everything.

Oh hey, Max from down the street was just here. His master gave him beef.

Sniff, sniff, sniff. Oh wait, that’s Hugo. I hate Hugo. He bit me by my collar once. I’m peeing directly on his pee. Teach him to come into my part of the neighborhood!

And while we’re walking, I’m gonna walk up every walkway I see. Why? I dunno, because I can. Wait, watch this, watch this. I’m gonna walk up and bend down like I’m gonna poop….and then…I’m not. Ha! Look at him get so excited!

Okay, now I’ve really gotta go. I’m looking…circling…looking…no, not there. Okay, onto the next yard. Looking, sniffing, circling…there. There. Wait for it. Wait…oh yes….

you know what I love about this gig? That guy at the other end of the rope? He’s gotta stop and pick it up. He’s got to literally bend down and pick it up. My poop. Yuck! Ha. I’m gonna pretend I’m gonna go a couple more times and watch him bend over and look for it, then take off.

I can’t wait till we get back, I wanna treat…

And so on and so forth.

Well, that’s what I saw when I dogsat for my friend’s dog…what do you see?

Music has always been a large part of my life. No matter where I’ve been, and at what time, there’s always been music to accompany it.

One of my favorite summers was when I returned from Korea and chose to move back in with my mom and younger brother in Nashville, TN.

He taught me a lot that summer. Before I moved out from LA to Korea he was barely driving, barely had a grip on the music he liked, barely knew anything about women, barely knew what it meant to be someone. But he was on the verge of finding it all. When I returned from Korea he was driving a nice car, had his music picked out – which we will talk about soon, had a woman and lost his virginity, and had found his place in the world…had allowed his teeny rebellions lead him to the proper place in his life at that time.

When I got back from Korea, he and I didn’t really have a lot to share. We were in two different places in life. He was finding out who he was…I was looking for myself. He drove me around town. We checked out the cool places, the spots where we could play football, basketball, volleyball…finally frisbee golf. But one of the best things about that summer, is my little brother was jamming out on the same music I had fallen in love with while in college. Tupac mostly. But we would roll around town singing “Me Against the World” with our fists up, understanding exactly what Tupac was singing about. And somewhere within the days of that summer, I found my brother. The same little brother whose 18 years younger. Same brother who I had no association with in any way, except the same mother. Same brother I used to pick on all the time because he was the little guy that annoyed me. The same guy who now drove me around, showed me his town, cranked Tupac, and understoodd what it was like to finally feel freedom. That summer I not only gained my bearings once again in life, I also gained a brother.

So, I know, I’m no good at writing to the crowd. The masses, and I’m working on it, seriously. You know, the interesting thing about a blog is that you really have to keep up with things, or you lose your audience. Which I think the only 2 people reading this are Steve and Gayle T, and so for this I thank you.

I’ve recently had some big things in the works. I just wrote a short that I’m planning on shooting by Thanksgiving, which has gotten rave reviews thus far. It’s a small part to a bigger whole, but something that I am excited to invest my time and effort into.

As well, I’m working on the script mentioned in the previous blog, and…

A friend has combined a group of people to work together on a low budget project that will scare the shit out of you, and I am assigned as one of the writers on the project. The inspiration came from Paranormal Activity, and we decided we can make a full budgeted movie from a smaller budget with a bigger impact.

New things on the horizon.

I’m planning on posting the process as it occurs, so check out the blog if you have the time, and thanks for reading…

The mind works in mysterious ways.

as many of you may know, I am a self-proclaimed screenwriter. I have been paid, once, for writing, and so technically I am a (working) screenwriter, though it certainly is not my job (yet).

Unfortunately for the last 6 months or so I have been on a dry streak. Road block? This has been a drive-around-the-state-to-get-home sorta road block But that’s the way it works sometimes. The hardest part about writing for me is coming up with gripping enough stories to write, not creating the stories themselves. I can write just about anything once I know the parameters of the story. And lately the floodgates have opened.

I had a dream the other night. After 6 months of no inspiration whatsoever I had a complete script unfold within my dream. However, while dreaming, I reached the point where my conscience told me it was only a dream and to not wake up. And so I finished the dream as an observer. As soon as I woke up from the dream, I immediately walked over to the computer and laid down an outline. I called my brother to help fill in the political gaps, and within a couple hours of waking, I had a new script to write.

It’s pretty amazing how the mind works sometimes. It really wants to work for you, even if you decide to block it from doing what its supposed to. I’m chalking up my road block to something I did, not something my mind was trying to do. I was very excited to find inspiration once again, and am excited to get it all written out. I’ll keep you posted. But overall, the point of this is, in life when you are meant to do something, it will come to you. I have read so many stories of people who have wanted something so bad, but could not come up with the solution, only to have it come to them in passing…their mind working to make it happen. So keep working on whatever it is you are working on, and if you can’t get it? Don’t worry, it will come to you if you were meant to find the answer.

The logline to the script: Two Irish Brothers want to get rid of the IRA gang that ruined the border town neighborhood they grew up in, only to find their own bloodlines run deeper than they realized…

I’ll keep you posted.

Until then…

So I’ve been thoroughly frustrated lately with work. Can I say that? I just did.

Will I do anything about it? There’s a new resume in the mix.

How many egomaniacs does it take to run a company? Duh, none. They’ll love themselves so faqr outta the company it won’t matter anymore.

I was dealt a fairly devastating blow today. While I was having a “conversation” with my boss, he dropped the F-bomb on me…twice. And I have to ask myself, what cross of professionality does this mofo bear? Like more of a Chuck Norris cross who kicks everyone’s ass, or more of a Michael Scott (from The Office) cross? I don’t care what school this man went to, he skipped out on Ethics. He was out getting rejected by his cheerleader girlfriend when they discussed the proper way to treat your employees. And as I was dealt this double fisted blow, I was forced to summon up the sensei and reassess my life and think…I wanna tussle. I wanna feel pain. I want to create it. I wanna understand what its like to spit blood and bask in the damage I’ve done. I want some sort of primal satisfaction. I wanna tussle.

I loved Fight Club, and have loved it forever, I want it to have all my babies. But the recent events only shed light on how brilliant Jim Uhls (and Chuck Palahniuk) really are to capitalize on that one moment when we feel the ultimate frustration and turn it into something we all really would perceive as a legitimate way to get a fix on our frustrations.

That’s the genius behind great writing. I’ve really missed it, but I’ve really been holding back a lot of what I’ve been wanting to say. Why? Because I have felt carefree and reckless this summer. Because there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to share. Because there’s a part of me that’s been saving up for something big.

You take your pick, and when you’re ready to discuss, bring your sparring gloves and a towel, I’m ready to tussle for the answer.

I want you to hit me as hard as you can…

Yes, its been ages since I’ve actually sat down to write in this blog. This summer was a whirlwind of events peppered in with all sorts of surprises. I have to say, overall, it was a fantastic summer, one of the best in ages. It reminded me of those summers I had as a kid that I thought would never end. Alas, this one is winding down, but am looking forward to looking back and reflecting on it. So, humble apologies for my lack of show, and I will get back onto the writing train.

I went on a road trip this week. The first road trip I had been on in ages. Mostly because I used to drive a green beaten up VW Jetta – The Green Goblin – and, well, it wouldn’t make it out of the city of LA, let alone on any road trips. however, that all changed this summer as I finally got a new car, and it was time to take a trip. I had yet to drive up the coast here in Cali, so my girlfriend and I drove from Los Angeles, through Santa Barbara, up to Santa Cruz (the surf capital of the landlocked US) and then back down. Why not to San Fran you say? Well, because we didn’t feel like we had ample time to explore SF and that will be dedicated an entire week when the time comes.

I used to love road trips. growing up in Indiana where the roads are windy and their end is unknown, we used to road trip all the time and try to get lost, only to realize where we were when the road finally hit a turnpike or highway. There was something about not knowing where you were going and heading that direction as far as you can. It was the first time I realized how small the world really is. Because no matter how far we thought we had gone, sooner or later something would look familiar and everything dumped onto a Stat Road of some sort, and we’d find our way back home. But now that I’m in LA its a bit different. There are some places you don’t wanna go on a road trip. There are certain places you don’t wanna get lost in. And the terrain is a complete concrete jungle. So the idea of driving around in the Green Goblin wasn’t too appetizing. And so I was incredibly excited to take a road trip with the new car.

There’s nothing like the expanse of the open road. Especially up and down the Pacific Coast Highway. Chilly breeze blowing in off the coast with that ever slight hint of fog and haze. The lines in the road, the reflectors at night, egging you on, summoning you to greater lengths and speeds. That state of serenity as you step on the gas and hit your turn signal to cruise past the guy in front of you. The radio drowning out the sounds of the wind. There’s a moment while you’re on the road in the middle of all this when you look up at yourself in the rearview mirror and think, “God this is beautiful”.

I hadn’t been able to do that in quite a while, and I missed it. It gave me the spirit I needed and had been searching for. It sparked my desire to get behind the computer again. It woke me up to the things that have been lacking in my life. It provided me with inspiration and thought…in some ways, it gave me fulfillment.

I’ll be back on the blog soon. There’s a lot to talk about, and I look forward to presenting it to you.

Until then…

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