Trust the Process? A very human guide to writing your screenplay
Written by Jess Sweetman
Hi my name is Jess and I am a frustrated artist.
I’ve made films from time to time, but for every screenplay I’ve birthed, I’ve spent even more time arranging my possessions by colour, age, and sentimental value.
But despite my excuses, my complaints, my wandering off mid-sentence in order to follow a really good squirrel, I still dream of actually completing one more screenplay, or making another short. Plus I’m a middle-aged woman now, damn it, I’ve done some cool stuff - and it’s time I threw some more art into the collective unconscious.
In trying times, or any times really - how does a writer find the gumption to take them all the way to the end of a project? I’m going to need help with this.
1. First things first - inspiration:-------------
“Yo, inspiration!” I scream at the sky, upsetting my neighbours who crabbily suggest that I should Google “How to shut up and start writing?” I get the usual stuff: “Take a walk in nature, meditate, join a writer’s group” which, honestly, seems a bit boring and certainly not something to base a hilarious but ultimately heartfelt blog post on.
Instead I Google John Waters’ movie making advice and nofilmschool brings the goods:
“Think of something f@%&ed up every day and write it down.” - John Waters
I picture a sandwich, white fluffy bread, delicious cheddar cheese - all ruined with a long, disgusting, wobbly beige pour of mayonnaise. Oh god it’s everywhere. It’s flowing into the tomato - rendering it tainted by the sludgy flavour of humiliated egg yolk, it’s ruining the lettuce, dripping into crevices like a landslide of angry condiments obliterating the once perfect sandwich. “Noooooooo! I scream like I’m in a Star Wars prequel.
Yeah that worked. I used some adjectives. I feel my journey into writing is beginning, it’s time to hit up Werner Herzog - as per my life’s motto - when in doubt, Werner Herzog:
“Roll up your sleeves and work as a bouncer in a sex club, or a warden in a lunatic asylum, or a machine operator in a slaughterhouse. Drive a taxi for six months and you’ll have enough money to make a film. Walk on foot, learn languages and a craft or trade that has nothing to do with cinema. Filmmaking — like great literature — must have the experience of life at its foundation.” - Werner Herzog
Sweet. “ Werner hat mich Geschickt!” I triumphantly exclaim, signing up to Duolingo. Maybe I’ll send my CV to the local slaughterhouse later on this week.
But before the writing begins in full - I heed a warning from experimental filmmaker Kenneth Anger:
“Movies can also be evil – although, of course, my definition of evil is not everybody else’s. Evil is being involved in the glamour and charm of material existence, glamour in its old Gaelic sense meaning enchantment with the look of things, rather than the soul of things.” - Kenneth Anger
The man has a point. A major derailment of my creative process does seem to happen when I spend more time picking my Oscar win outfit (it’s gold) and interviewing myself for Vanity Fair (“Sweetman demures on the settee, nibbling delicately on mozzarella sticks like a chubby Dorothy Parker.”)
I clearly need to connect with the soul of my writing. The spirit - if you will. Avoid all of this Hollywood nonsense…
I dust off my copy of Starhawk’s “The Spiral Dance, If I want to be inspired, surely “A rebirth of the ancient religion of the great goddess,” featuring a book cover that Marilion would think was cool, is going to be my way in. Luckily I have a copy to hand as I keep it on my shelf in hope that people will think I’m more interesting than I am.
Page 291 deals with creative work: Apparently I’m supposed to start on a waxing moon - which is no good for me, Starhawk, as the next one is on Sunday and I have to finish this article by Friday. Deadlines, Starhawk, some of us have them.
Maybe a goddess can help though, apparently a major player in the creativity goddess scene is the Welsh Goddess Ceridwen, keeper of the cauldron of inspiration.
I need to get me an inspiration cauldron to keep around the house, and luckily, according to R/Paganism, I can build myself an altar to Ceridwen and Ebay sells a pack of ten small cauldrons for only €12.99. That is very reasonable. Thanks Ceridwen!
But for those who are too afraid to dabble in beginner Paganism - don’t worry, there’s always Brian Eno. I have a songwriter friend who swears by everyone’s favourite rural British, hairline defying musical genius - Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies cards. According to the website “The Oblique Strategies constitute a set of over 100 cards, each of which is a suggestion of a course of action or thinking to assist in creative situations.”
“Go slowly, all the way round the outside” says Brian Eno via a piece of card. Honestly I thought that was what I was doing anyway. Cheers Bri!
Brian Eno’s website is very ugly and the cards will put you back by 50 quid - so if you’d like some fluffier and more reasonably priced inspiration, you can pick up the Cat Gurus deck by British illustrator Mr Peebles (shout out to my friend Grace for her excellent gift skills here!)
“Featuring some of the world's famous cats all illustrated by Mister Peebles and published by Laurence King. Including Beerbohm the Globe Theatre's furriest Thesp, The Cheshire Cat and his grin, Maneki-Neko beckoning you towards good luck and brave Félicette, the first cat to go to space.”
This is an easy one for me, because as the custodian of three ridiculous felines myself, I’m accustomed to having to make decisions based on the whims of my furry friends, where they chose to sit, what they chose to vomit on, and what they pick - in their infinite wisdom - to destroy in my flat.
I draw the Ai Weiwei cat:
“To put something back together, first you must break it.”
Yeah, that’s what a cat WOULD say. I look around my desk and casually bat an empty cup onto the floor, staring with my new-found power.
I think I’m ready to start THE PROCESS.
2. the process
So now I’m so inspired. Inspired for days. A well of inspiration. I have ideas coming out of my ears. What’s next?
I open my laptop and surround it with a wall of post-it notes upon which I will map out the plot and character points of my screenplay.
The blank page stares at me. I stare back at it. I’m pretty sure it just said something rude but I’ll let it slide. UGH! How do I get through this bit?
Jackie Collins (RIP) was a prolific writer whose character naming conventions seem to be plucked from literally looking out of the window - see Nova Citroen, the Ice Queen character in her “seminal” novel “Rock Star”. Two mid priced cars from the early 90’s and it was a best seller? She’s gotta have some good nuggets to share.
"I wake up at 7am, go straight to my desk and write one sentence. That’s the secret." - Jackie Collins
Yup, that’ll do it.
When it comes to slogging to get your film made, Spike Lee is the man to talk to. I have owned his diaries from the making of She’s Gotta Have It for a long time and I must think about them at least once a week as they give amazing insight into the process of someone making their first feature and what it actually takes. The man is a MACHINE! He wrote the script in a week, and only took a break for March Madness, (a sporting event several Americans have taken real time to try, unsuccessful, to explain to me. Apologies to them.) He’s also a tenured professor at NYU’s Steve Tisch Film School, so he’s used to dealing with upstart writers:
“I understand how hard it is, that first day when you start writing and you’re looking at a blank piece of paper. You just gotta start.” - Spike Lee
See. He gets me. Okay. I can do this, just sit down and stare at the blank page and hope my inner demons don’t - OH MY GOD - they’re screaming at me!
Luckily it seems like there are a myriad of schemes I can sign up to to keep me honest. My favourite is Jamie Attenberg’s Mini 1000. Sign up for free and you can join one of the several “mini 1000”’s that happen throughout the year. For a week you commit to writing 1000 words a day. Nothing more, nothing less. And to add you receive a daily email filled with inspiration. I believe that there’s a book on its way as well.
And if you’d prefer a little spiritual sustenance with your writing challenge, there’s always The Artists’ Way by Julia Cameron. Cameron leads with an insistence on writing “morning pages”, 3 pages that you handwrite every single day, helping you plug right into the collective unconscious.
And if the blank page haunts my dreams? I guess it’s time to shake things up.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
3. how to shake things up
Sometimes I genuinely find it harder to use my words or tackle the empty pages of a notebook than to lay something out visually.
What does Kelly Reichardt say? She’s not only a filmmaker whose talent shines through in the silence of her work, but also a professor of film studies at Bard College since 2006 - throughout her entire movie making career.
“You make what you can afford to make…shoot something by yourself…[This kind of filmmaking] allows [me] to practise and think about film and editing.”
- Kelly Reichardt
For years I called myself a writer until it became a millstone around my neck. I’d torture myself with this one thought: “if you say you’re a writer, why can’t you write?” Until a few years ago I downloaded a few photo apps and set myself the non-writing challenge of making something each day during my forty minute commute to work. What emerged was a series of fake album covers, distilled from manipulated photos I’d taken that week, for musicians who didn’t exist, complete with salacious backstories and industry infighting.
One highlight from this project was taking a selfie on the U9 train across Berlin, then cutting out my own head, distorting it and fitting it to a lot of worms while the stranger sitting next to me on the train cheered me on.
Switching mediums reminded me of the overarching lesson that I otherwise ignore whenever it comes to writing. Because, after all of this slogging, this googling, this searching - at the end of the day - it’s supposed to be fun. Isn’t it? Isn’t the reason human beings create art, alongside expressing our desires, exploring ourselves, trying to look cool, or pouring our souls out to others, is that the process is supposed to feel good.
David Graeber ponders the capitalistic beliefs that humanity’s goal is merely survival of the fittest in his essay “What’s the point if we can’t have fun”, positing that perhaps life has evolved with little more whimsy than the capitalist world gives it credit for. And maybe it’s always worth putting this front and centre - asking myself WHY do I write? Away from the grind, the hustle, or any other habit named after a gay club, isn’t this supposed to be fun?
Okay fine. So once I’ve found inspiration on Ebay, or by working in a slaughter house, the trick is to sit down and just bash it out while enjoying the process.
Because no matter how you dress it up or make it pretty, no matter how many trinkets you can buy - you just have to carve out that time and do it every single day, but driven by the singular joy of creation itself.
Ugh.
Fine. But I’m buying a really pretty notebook first.
