As someone who hopes to go off into the wild blue yonder and be a writer, I pay some attention to the Writers Guild.

For those not in the know, Hollywood has a writers guild, an actors guild, a directors guild, and then the 3 or so huge media conglomerates who own everything. And all these folks need to sign agreements and decide how money gets worked out.

I think a lot of people’s default reactions now a days is to sort of instinctively hate unions, and so I’m sure the concept of a bunch of wealthy writers in a union sounds pretty stupid. But it makes a lot of sense when you realize how insanely far the studios are willing to go to cheat movie makers out of, what is to the studio, tiny amounts of money.

Anyway, the next time there’s a writers guild strike, you can be sure it’ll be over exactly this. This is as crystal clear an example of what’s gonna happen as you can find. Basically it’s all about the internet and other forms of digital transmission.

Essentially the studios are supposed to pay writers residuals for their work (when it appears on TV and in DVDs and whatnot), but the current contracts don’t cover the internet at all, so studios have taken the stance that writers shouldn’t get money for things like having their movie sold on iTunes.

The example I’ve linked to is especially interesting because you’ve got a TV show (Battlestar Galactica) which released miniature episodes of the show on the internet, and the studio has not only refused to pay residuals, but in fact claims that the mini-episodes do not count as writing because they were only made for "promotional purposes." 

Hopefully these sort of things get worked out fairly, but I think the studios are probably going to be willing to put all the writers out of work for a year just to money grub for as long as they can (perhaps hoping to fill time with reality TV or god knows what else, which would be awful since reality TV is pretty terrible right now).

Maybe if I’m lucky they’ll have all this stuff worked out by the time I don’t suck anymore and can sell stuff (though it’s worth noting that my first ever sale of anything was, in fact, web content that falls exactly under this sort of trouble). 

My Favorite Moments

    •    Tennessee puts in their second string during the third quarter, which immediately gets several first downs and touchdowns.
    •    Cal finally scores a touchdown. Several members of the Tennessee squad pat Cal players on the back and congratulate them, perhaps even saying while clapping their hands "Oh, good work! Nice job! See, just keep practicing."
    •    I briefly cheer that Ayoob is entering the game, then realize what I just did.
    •    Tennessee replaces their third string lineup with several make-a-wish children. It still takes 7 Cal players to tackle little Timmy Weinshraub, their honorary running back.

Short Dialogues:

Time to Show All Those Doubters
Cal Fan: Sure, maybe we’re a little overrated but I’m confident that…
[No punchline necessary]

Nate Longshore
Team: "Hike! Hike! Hike!"
[Longshore stands around, confused, possibly thinking this is a practice game. When no big play opens up, he throws a 3 yard pass that would be worthless even if anyone tried to catch it]
Cal Fan: "FUCKING AYOOB!"
Ayoob: "Wait, what?"
Cal Fan: "Sorry, force of habit."

Ayoob’s Shining Moment
Ayoob: "Okay, this is perfect. I come in for the other guy, we’re down 35 to 0. I can’t possibly fuck this up … oh no, people are running at me! I better throw the ball sideways across the field 20 yards short of the closest Cal receiver and into that giant bulls-eye the Tennessee player is holding up!"
Cal Fan: "FUCKING AYOOB!"

Well, my senior year is zooming towards me at a frightful pace. I have to admit a great deal of melancholy towards it. Beware, here comes the dreaded PERSONAL POST! My girlfriend Anna has long complained that my blog contains no personal posts about my feelings or my life. I’ve told her quite plainly that this is because I’m not “a girl or a ***.”

Girls make blogs that are all about their feelings and emotions. This is not necessarily bad, it’s just different. They’re like online diaries. On a normal blog, some vague event is necessary to trigger the post. You post about SOMETHING. On a girl blog, the mere act of feeling anything is justification for a post. This is one of those posts:

Unlike many college folk, I’ve known what I wanted to do "when I grow up" for quite a while now. With only two classes left till I can technically graduate, it’s strange to have to think about waiting another full year before actually getting down to the struggling to get a career phase of my life. I mean I know I should cherish this time while I have it, but I feel pretty mixed about it.

Over the summer I wrote a screenplay with my writing partner Aaron. It’s not very good, and I certainly don’t think one screenplay qualifies as a career, but it was a really great experience. Even though I know how flawed it is and that there are many drafts to go, there is something very special about being able to hold 105 pages in your hand and say "This is mine." I’ve struggled again and again to get into a creative writing course in Berkeley, but because I’m not a Film major or an English major, it’s been essentially impossible. I’m making one last go at it this semester, but if I don’t get into anything (and the English department already rejected me) then college presents an unfortunate dilemma: I’m not studying what I want to do. I’m studying things related to what I do (film courses and courses about novels and whatnot), but I’m not actually studying the craft I want to live by.

My only real study experience for the world of writing is my position as Editor of the Heuristic Squelch. Now I love the Squelch. It more than anything has shaped my relationship to humor and it definitely took me from “thinking about writing” to “writing 20 fucking pages by Tuesday because fuck we forgot the issue was due.”

But burnout is a big factor. Aaron and I were Editors-in-Chief all last year. We were “Deputy Creative Editors” the year before that. And now we’ve got another year ahead of us, with frankly, few obvious candidates to pass the magazine onto. If you’re a young Squelcher for some reason reading this, don’t take that as an insult. Running the magazine isn’t about being funny necessarily, it’s about devoting a huge amount of time to the magazine and ideally a senior should be doing it because they should theoretically have more time than a junior. The Editor-in-Chief has to do fun things like email egg donor advertisers to see if they’ll run ads in the Squelch and other embarrassing, tiring minutiae like mailing out subscriptions in bulk and getting reimbursed later. I’m told that this “always works out” and that people always show up to take over the magazine, but when a quarter of the people who write for the magazine are alums, another quarter are sophomores/freshmen, and the last half is me, Aaron, and John, it feels less than certain.

Plenty of former Editors have had to run the magazine for more than one year, but it’s definitely a grinding experience. I’m not saying “oh, pity poor Aaron and Simon,” I’m just saying that you eventually find yourself looking at it less and less like something neat and more and more like a job you don’t get paid for. I think this is a natural part of getting older. Suddenly you think you should get paid for things. And staying up to 5 AM on a Wednesday to photoshop that last bit of vomit into an image no longer feels like a badge of honor.

The risk is saying “Fuck it!” and not doing a good job. Not that you stop caring (I suspect I’ll care for quite some time, if the former Squelchers who still haunt us with their presence years later are any sort of indicator). It’s just that after 2 or 3 years of writing 400 words articles like What If Quentin Tarantino Directed the Bible or Top Ten Signs Your Professor has a Ferret Down His Pants, you really start to get punchy. I spent the whole summer struggling to write a film, and it’s a very strange experience to be sitting on my couch with a notepad trying to think of ferret jokes.

I suppose I’m just aimlessly bitching. Scratch that. I’m definitely just aimlessly bitching. But I’m definitely not sure how this year will go and whether the magazine will be at the same level next year as it was last year, though I know it’s quite debatable whether it was any good last year.
That concludes my whining. If I write anything that’s too awful and unfunny for the magazine, I’ll put it on the blog.

Warning: Not everything I post is about ASUC politics… 

So I downloaded a random Lost script from last season. I spend a lot of time reading scripts because I figure it’s a good way to understand the basic structure and flow of stories.

This script is from episode 212, Fire and Water, a really bad episode in my opinion. I only mention reading it because there’s something very strange about it. I’ve read "conversational" scripts before. I don’t know what they’re really called, but that’s a script where the writer peppers his action descriptions with little asides to the reader. Things like "He opens the briefcase revealing more money than I’ll make when I sell this screenplay." Sometimes it’s a good descriptive technique. Traditionally you only stick to adjectives you can film, but sometimes a clever description that references outside the script can be useful to paint the proper image for the reader. Other times though, it reads as really cloying and annoying.

Here’s what’s so weird about this script. The word fuck appears 54 times in a 56 page script. And that’s all in the action text. Lost has no swearing in its dialogue. It’s bizarre. I can’t get through the script. Every piece of action invariably goes like "Liam stands — something in the music fucking activates a part of him." or "Locke spins around and PUNCHES CHARLIE in the FUCKING FACE."

Being a shitty wannabe writer, I don’t think it’s my place to criticize a sold script so, hmm, yeah nowhere to go with that. Take a look. It’s pretty distracting. If you’re interested in more Lost scripts go here.

Frankly, the Daily Cal staff seems overworked. To help them out, I’ve created this handy editor’s guide. Using this impressive formula, you can create at least one Daily Cal story a week (note, I’m more making fun of the city of Berkeley than the Daily Cal in this instance, so don’t be too disappointed):

 

Critics Weigh in on UC Proposal
By [name]

A campus plan to [do anything] is drawing sharp criticism from city officials as the 60-day review period for the project’s [type of environmental report] comes to a close tomorrow.

Berkeley City Council members [attacked, condemned, or criticized] the UC Berkeley [anything] at their  meeting, saying the plan would create [traffic] and [noise problems].

"[overly dramatic and incoherently paraphrased quote about fighting this to the bitter end]," said [Mayor Tom Bates or Local Store Owner] at the council’s meeting.

The plan includes [something incredibly sensible] to [help everyone] and [improve the campus].

The plan would result in a net gain of [number] parking slots, which [Mayor Tom Bates or Local Store Owner] said would lead to [noise] and [traffic noise].

"It just seems to me to be really [unfair reduction of issue]," he said.

Several city commissions with interest in the project’s impact have offered input on the plan, and some area residents are circulating a neighborhood petition in opposition, particularly with regards to [best part of the proposal].

Campus officials, however, said [bland statement vaguely contradicting the city].

Some council members said [completely unrelated argument, perhaps about Berkeley in the 60’s].

"I want to look seriously at [unrealistic solution]," said Councilmember [insert name of Daily Cal reporter’s friend, who’ll notice?], whose constituents live in proximity to the proposed project.

The project would cost the UC system more than [meaningless number] million. [sentence saying it’s completely up to the UC System and everything we’ve just read was pointless and meant nothing].

The project’s draft environmental impact report, which considers the implications of new construction on [traffic or noise], [a rare species of fish found only in Asia] and [Cody’s Books] will be released [who cares when].

But [city official] said the city would not cooperate with university officials.

"It’s going to be difficult to negotiate with them until they come to their senses," he said.

The following is a transcript of my recent conversation with my Comcast Motorola Dual-Tuner HDTV Digital Video Recorder (or CMDTHDTVDVR for short):

Me: Hmmm, I wonder if the Simpsons is on.
CMDTHDTVDVR: [No Response]
Me: You there buddy? Hello?
CMDTHDTVDVR: [No Response]
Me: [louder] Come on, can’t you hear me? Do as I say: Play! Play! Play! Uggg, umm, Stop! Stop! Stop! Or maybe Info Button! Info Button! Gah, just Exit! Exit! Exit!
CMDTHDTVDVR: [No Response]
[10 minutes pass]
Me: Maybe if I try now…
CMDTHDTVDVR: [in rapid succession] PLAY PLAY PLAY STOP STOP STOP INFO BUTTON INFO BUTTON EXIT EXIT EXIT!
Me: What? I don’t understand, why can’t you—
CMDTHDTVDVR: WOULD YOU LIKE TO WATCH ONE MINUTE OF THIS SIMPSONS EPISODE WHICH I HAVE LABELED AS “” AND DATED “12/1/89”?
Me: Could I watch the rest of the episode?
CMDTHDTVDVR: PLAY STOP ENTER-BUTTON PAGE-UP HD-ZOOM [fifteen minutes of hissing from the speakers]

Kenny sent me the worst script ever. I was disgusted by it and didn’t plan to post anything, but I couldn’t believe the action text, so here are my two favorite parts (I’ll change the names on the off-chance the writer googles his own work constantly and wants to sue kenny):

1.

Cathy and Bobby eat and watch a movie. Then they have sex one, two, three times.

2. 

Two hours later Bobby walks in the house. He mistakes Tracy for Cathy on the couch. He wants to surprise Cathy and starts eating her out. Tracy wakes up.

                TRACY
    What the fuck is you doing to me?

Kenny, I hope you keep that script quarantined on your computer. Now let’s never speak of it again.

Aaron and I got distracted in the office today and briefly started work on the worst screenplay ever. I now present its brilliance (we didn’t save the original, I rebuilt this from memory):

 
          EXT. CORNFIELD - NIGHT
 
          Innumerable rows of corn stalks run off into the
          distance, eventually colliding with the distant
          twinkles of a starry night.
 
          The Lesbian Mothership hovers majestically over
          the field. From within, Lesbians are HEARD.
 
          BEGIN TITLES
          
          Several minutes pass, then a FAINT WHIRRING.
 
          Suddenly, without warning, except for the faint
          whirring, a rival lesbian mothership streaks
          across the sky, firing its mega photons in short,
          steady 3-shot bursts.
 
          INT. SECOND LESBIAN MOTHERSHIP - NEW YEAR’S EVE
 
                              COMMANDER KRIEG
                         (taking a drink)
                    Why is it we can promise never to hurt
                    others, but we can never promise to
                    never hurt ourselves?
 
                              GIANT TENTACLE MONSTER
                         (using its fifth and sixth mouths)
                    God not this again.
 
          JAYDEN HAMILTON (26 earth years) enters the room.
          He’s just as ruggedly handsome as you’d expect a
          super spy like Jayden Hamilton to be. Which is to
          say he’s very ruggedly handsome.
 
          He dives behind a table. He was born in Santa Fe
          to a childless couple, and as a boy he dreamed of
          being an astronaut, a congressman, or a secret
          agent. Little did he know he’d one day be all
          three and diabetic.
 
          Commander Krieg DISINTEGRATES Jayden with her MOON
          PISTOL.
 

 
          INT. SMASH HAMILTON’S BEDROOM - THREE YEARS EARLIER
 
          TITLE CARD: ONE YEAR EARLIER
 
          SMASH HAMILTON (29) wakes up in a cold sweat. It
          was all a dream … or was it?
 
          END TITLES

In my efforts to be not a complete hack, I’ve been reading a lot of books on screenwriting.

In the process of both actually reading these books and just flipping through them, I’ve discovered something odd. Several of these authors have included examples written by themselves, and with few exceptions, these are some of the worst things I’ve ever read. That doesn’t mean the books themselves are bad, but examples from the author’s own life seem fraught with peril.

Aaron has a book by Syd Field, the oft-cited guru of Three Act structure. He includes 8 or 9 pages from his own "yet unproduced screenplay." I know those in glass houses (read: someone like me whose only paid writing job was dialogue for talking cars in a web commercial) shouldn’t throw stones, but this is irresistable. Here are some excerpts from Syd Field’s screenplay The Run:

CUT TO:

HEADLIGHTS—MOVING

A pickup truck moves INTO FRAME. PULL BACK to reveal the truck hauling a large trailer, the puzzling-shaped cargo covered with a tarpaulin. It could be anything—a piece of modern sculpture, a missile, a space capsule. As a matter of fact, it’s all three.

[…]

INT. LEAD STATION WAGON

Three people are in the wagon. The radio plays softly, a Country & Western tune.

STRUT BOWMAN drives, a lean and expressive Texan who happens to be the best sheet-metal man and mechanical wizard west of the Mississippi.

JACK RYAN sits next to the window staring moodily into the predawn darkness.
Strong-willed and stubborn, he is considered by many to be a flamboyant boat designer, a crackpot genius, or a daredevil race driver; all three are true.

ROGER DALTON sits in the back seat. A quiet man, he wears glasses and looks like the rocket systems analyst he is.

———–

Wow. 

To recap, in the wagon are a man with the same name as Tom Clancy’s well known character Jack Ryan, James Bond, and, well, I think a name like Strut Bowman needs no introduction. Wow.