The 24 Hour Writing Experiment

How My Writer's Group spent our Carmaggedon.

With warnings of apocalyptic scenes on the Los Angeles Carmaggedon freeways this past weekend, my Writer's Group, the Deadliners, undertook a different nightmare scenario:

We decided to write for 24 hours.

I had participated in 24 Hour Plays at George Washington University, in which writers receive 12 hours 8pm-8am to write a series of one acts, and then the cast and crew receive 12 hours to produce them. I had also heard of 24 Hour Film Festivals. But what about 24 Hour Writing Sessions...

At noon on Saturday we arrived at the Chamberlain Hotel. There were six of us, each undertaking individual projects. Two plays, two features, and two TV spec pilots.

The rules were simple. It must be a new idea. You cannot have written more than a page on the idea. You cannot have started to write 'pages'.

The participants were the ever so talented Adam Aresty, David Case, Marissa Jo Cerar, Annie Hendy, Enio Rigolin, and myself. Six Heroes and Villains Writers on a mission.

We discussed our ideas at lunch when we started, and again at dinner time.

We wrote by the pool during the afternoon, laptop next to laptop.

But by 11pm, we were digging deep into the evening.

By 2am, a sense of exhaustion sets in. How long can I be this creative and on point?

By 4am, delirium sets in. We lose two participants. Four more continue...

By 6am, it's blind momentum. This is why we do it.

As writers, we become so used to planning everything out. Taking time with our decisions. Sometimes when you prepare to write, you've already lost that passionate kernel you had. You fail to consider theme and style until your rewrites. You are too busy plotting.

The Experiment prevented us from being able to plan. Every decision must be made in an instant, or you will not finish. Every page must be vomited out. The whole is more important than any individual part.

I emerged with a TV outline, and the Teaser and first 2 Acts of a TV one hour drama spec pilot.

Overall it was a huge success. There was a sense of camaraderie and unity. An atmosphere of fervor and excitement. And the chance to turn a single idea into a conceptualized project.

Sunday we slept.

How I Decipher 8 Studio Lingo Terms

"We're looking for something four quadrant. Universal. Franchise-able. But not necessarily high concept."

Tentpole. Four Quadrant. Universal. Commercial. Brand-based.

You might have an idea what these various words mean. I kind of thought I did too.

But on my latest couch tour (a series of studio meetings) with Graham Funke, I've learned there are big differences between these words.

And it takes an understanding of the lingo to communicate.

So I thought I'd take a brief glossary of terms I had run into and discuss my impressions of them. Because there is a big difference between them:

Four Quadrant - The four quadrants are men and women, old and young, and when a movie is four quadrant, it has broad appeal to all four demographics. But guess what? Your latest cop thriller or your sci-fi adventure. Those aren't four quadrant. That's geared towards teenage and 20-something guys. It may be a huge market but it's not four quadrant.

Universal - A theme is universal if it is something nearly everyone can relate to. Feeling persecuted. Wanting revenge. Feeling unrequited love. If like most people you've felt the impulse to do it, then it's probably a universal feeling. But a movie can be geared towards a certain quadrant and still be universal. It can be a certain niche or genre. Or it could be a big budget movie in which you root for the hero, but don't relate to the situation he faces or feelings he has.

Tentpole - These are specifically giant movies, usually summer or holiday, that the studios plan on propping up their revenue streams. And in today's market, these are pre-existing materials. Not original specs. This is Harry Potter. Transformers. Your movie may have a 100 million dollar budget and may be poised to make even more, but it's not really gonna be tentpole unless it's adapted. You write a tentpole-sized spec to show you can handle that scope, but it's not really a tentpole unless it's already a franchise.

High Concept - High Concept doesn't just mean someone can visualize the entire story from a concise logline, it means they get it from the hook. From the title even. Lost Sex Tape. Zombie Pet Shop. It might need a little more description, like Bait and Switch: Couple house-swaps with world's most wanted secret spies. Virgin Territory: Dad must stop his virgin daughter from losing virginity on Spring Break. You get it all. A lot of people think because their scripts are 'Commercial' that they are high concept. But unless you only need ten words to pitch the whole thing, and it's the kind of idea that could sell as a pitch, it's not that high concept.

Commercial - Commercial just means you write with an interest in being Studio-produced and making money. It doesn't mean you don't also have a great story or something to say, but it is, in a way, the lingo for "I'm willing to partially sell out," or "buy in" as I'd rather say. Yes, I would like to write a movie everyone pays to see and makes a lot of money. A movie that tries to walk a familiar line with slight differences to appeal to the marketplace is commercial. High concept is always commercial, but commercial is not always high concept.

Brand or Brand-based - It's based on pre-existing material or pre-existing property. The Magic 8-Ball. That's already got an identity, so it people know it. Board games, old TV shows, top selling books, all have brands. Nowadays, studios will take something pre-existing, like a more obscure book or comic, and turn it into a movie in hopes of branding the pre-existing material on the heat of the movie development.

Franchise(able) - Funny thing about this one. Something franchise-able may not be franchised yet. This is merely something that could become a franchise. A movie about a hero or group of heroes, a story about an imaginative world, or an antagonist that keeps coming back for more, all of those have franchise-able possibilities. This just means that the story is written in a way, that if successful, it could be parlayed into a sequel. Most commercial specs can easily be franchise-able, so this doesn't carry as much weight as being based on a pre-existing franchise or brand.

World Creation - This one could arguable be just any movie, but there is an inference from producers here that they really want to see worlds in the story that aren't only original, but immersive and expansive. Tron to Narnia, Inception to Cowboys vs Aliens, they don't just create new worlds, they immerse the audience in that world. It's almost indicative to adventure movies, but it also exists in action, thriller, or even comedy, as long as the world continues to expand as a character. Mission Impossible may take us into the world of MI:6, but after our initial foray, it does not expand in that world, but rather takes us to ordinary locales to the the extraordinary circumstances unfold there, so that's not exactly world creation.

How Long Does A Brand New Spec Take?

A Look @ A Schedule for a New Feature Spec

I can't tell how many times I've heard writers talk about finishing a brand new spec in a month or two. I can never get my head around it. Blows my mind. I'm not a slow writer, but I try to be realistic about the speed at which a spec progresses. I thought it would be helpful to finally sit down and chart out an average, perhaps fast, spec's journey, from start to finish.

So here it is. An ambitious writing schedule for a brand new spec:

First Draft

Idea & Brainstorming - Two Weeks

Treatment & Outlining - Two Weeks

I'm assuming that a month might elapse between the time inspiration hits and the time you begin writing pages.

First Draft - Four Weeks

Now you need to get notes. You may have one fast reading friend, but most people require two weeks to read a script and get back to you. And then it takes a week to go get lunch/coffee with everyone and collect their feedback.

Rewrite

Notes on Rough Draft - Three Weeks

Processing Notes and Re-Outlining - Two Weeks

Rewrite - Four Weeks

We have a rewrite! And we're going to assume you are right on track and only need one more rewrite here.

Second Rewrite

Notes on Draft Two - Three Weeks

Processing Notes and Re-Outlining - Two Weeks

Rewrite - Four Weeks

Okay. We're close. But now we need to polish dialogue and tweek a few more things.

Polish

Notes on Draft Three - Three Weeks

Processing Notes and Re-Outlining - One Week

Rewrite - Two Weeks

And we're done!

That's 32 Weeks. 8 Months.

That's assuming you can commit five days a week to writing. That's assuming you don't travel or have any vacation weekends like 4th of July. That's assuming you don't run into a snag and require a rewrite draft just to put you back on track.

So I guess I can see how a fast writer might pull out a drat in a month or two, but it seems naive to assume that draft will be "industry-ready". I guess if there are writers out there that can write "industry-ready" drafts in under three months, I'm just out gunned. But I think a fast spec can be done in 6-9 months. And standard time is 1 year.

How do writers finish more than one spec a year? They transition back and forth between several projects and they write full-time. But I haven't met many writers that can consistently pull that off.