Seeking Understanding

Last week I attended a reading of Townie, the fabulous new memoir by Andre Dubus III. While it was wonderful hearing him read from his work, it was also enlightening listening to him talk about writing.

One quote about writing resonated with me in particular; it was from Hemingway who said, "The writer's job is not to judge, but to seek to understand."

With that statement I felt like a window was opened in a sauna, delivering me a much-needed cool breeze. For I have been obsessively judging one of my characters in a serial drama I'm currently writing. I've even told my students, "I hate her. She's such a bitch." And because I judge her to be selfish and mean toward her fiance, I can't begin to write her properly.

Until now. 

The quote completely frees me to examine this character's life and to seek to comprehend what she lives and experiences. I don't have to like her, but I do have to understand her. And through better understanding of her, I hope to empathize with her enough so that I can honestly write her story.

I'm actually already there. That one Hemingway line has illuminated my path. And reminded me of my job: to record the lives of my characters as they grow and breathe and live both in my head and, eventually, on the page.

"Our job is not to judge, but to seek to understand." Wouldn't it be nice if more than just writers would take that mantra to heart?

{And a small note of apology to those of you who check in for the weekly scriptwriting tip: I have been battling bronchitis for more than three weeks, and it has now developed into a sinus infection. I've never had bronchitis before; I had no idea what a walloping punch it delivered. Be well. Write daily. And read twice as much. Oh, and drink plenty of fluids....}

Show, Don't Tell

What does this really mean?

Consider that we're writing for a visual medium, and answer this: would you rather have one character tell another character about an accident that just happened, or would you like to see that accident unfold on the screen? You can substitute accident for another event, and you still have the same idea. Do you want to be told how two lovers met, or do you want to see it happen?

In my Introductory Scriptwriting course at the University of New Hampshire at Manchester, each student is required to pen a dialogueless short screenplay of one to three pages. There's no better exercise than to write an all-visual script. It's also a strenuous task.

For playwrights, the challenge tends to be how to describe what's happening in the scene. For novelists and even short story writers, the difficult task is often how to reduce the amount of description while writing on the page what will occur on the screen once the script is filmed.

If you want to try this, you might attempt to write a scene between two people who each want the same thing, but only one person can have it. Want more specifics? Fine: Two seven year olds. Twins. One brand new bike. What will each do to get the bike?

Here's another exercise: try to take a scene from a favorite story and write it without dialogue. I'm picturing the fence-painting scene in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. How can Tom get the other kids to paint the fence for him without using any dialogue?

Finally, stop and notice next time there's a scene in a film where no dialogue is exchanged, yet the story is clearly advanced. Or did the lack of dialogue not work? If not, why do you suppose that is?

Until next time, write on!

Writing Dialogue: It's about listening.

Yesterday as I sat and talked script notes with a director friend of mine, I scribbled down every suggestion he had for me. It didn't mean that this morning as I edited I used his notes verbatim, but it meant I had the essence of his vision, which is so close to mine that sometimes he and I can't even recall whose idea a favorite line of dialogue originally was.

But he said something else to me during one of our breaks. He told me about two people he chatted with who didn't listen to him. The experience, he said, has made him a better listener since he has a new appreciation for just how important the skill is.

The scriptwriter must be an acute listener, for not only must she hear what a director or producer is saying in a notes session, but she must hear her characters speaking to each other.  If a character asks a question of one character or makes an observation, then the next line from the other character needs to be in response to that (unless the character is known for his easily distracted tendencies).

As I revise some of my scenes today, I am also conscious of how each character speaks. The three buddies in my story each have a unique voice, and a distinct manner in which they interact with one another. You know you've nailed the dialogue when you can cover the name of the character and still discern who is speaking. If you can't hear the unique voices of your characters, it's time to go back and make sure you know who they are, and how each fits in with the others.

Listening in on everyday conversations is another skill the adept writer needs to embrace. I tell my students and workshop participants to listen in on their own conversations as well as dialogue around them. I have a slight hearing problem, so when I can overhear a conversation in line at the movie theatre, then I consider it a public conversation, inviting people like me to listen in and learn how different people speak with each other.  It's become a hobby of mine that helps my writing, especially when I discover a new speech pattern or a unique dialect.

So...you wanna be a scriptwriter? First rule (repeated from an earlier post) -- listen.