I've been writing for the screen since 1999. I moved from Seattle to Hollywood in November of 2004. Three of my five screenplays are making the rounds.
My latest comedy, FALSE SECURITY, took 2nd place in the WriteSafe.com contest for the third quarter of 2005.
I wrote, produced, and directed a short film titled, Memoir.
I gained representation as a screenwriter in 2006.

Anhedonia is where you can end up when your journey becomes miserable. I think I've been on the outskirts for a while now and my ardent attempts to find the proverbial interstate have finally landed me in the middle of downtown.

I still enjoy writing well enough, but screenwriting isn't remotely fun anymore. I'm sure I'd like it just fine if I'd become remotely successful as a screenwriter. I'd like screenwriting now if I could expect any success with it in the future. The operative word here is "expect." I didn't stop expecting a good outcome all at once. My level of positive-expectancy has been dwindling for some time. I'm finally noticing now that my metaphorical tank is nearly dry.

Looking up and seeing Anhedonia's city hall forced me to choose a route out of town. There were only two. Route 1 is passable only with a full tank of high octane expectancy. Route 2 requires the opposite--sell the proverbial car and simply float away on the breeze.

But seriously, it harks back to that sarcastic definition of insanity where the insane person repeats the same behavior but expects (that word again) a different result. I no longer expect a different result. It's a disappointing realization but the relief I felt softened the impact. The nice thing is I don't have to tender a resignation or give HR two-weeks notice.

I'll leave this wee-blog up because it contains essentially what I have to say on the subject of screenwriting and requires no further effort on my part. All my decisions and the results of those decisions are here--over four years worth--for whatever they might be worth.

People have been asking me if I've heard from the producer I wrote about in my last article. Yes, I have.

The upshot: SCRATCH is a pass but I have an open invite to pitch anew.

Here's a bit of what she had to say:

First, I think you are a very talented young writer, which is why it's no surprise that you have a manager and/or additional representation. Your presentation is professional and accomplished, both personally and on the page.

I was surprised at the caliber of writing in your screenplay in a good way. In certain ways, you're better than the story you ended up telling (if that doesn't sound too moronic.) You set up your premise well, the pacing and tone were consistent, the characters felt more than one-note, your humor and language were edgy and rang true to the ear, and concept-wise, you did have fun with it.

But this piece, to my mind, is a 'close but no cigar'...

Don't worry, I assured her she's not old enough to be my mom. I also assured her she didn't sound like a moron (to me anyway). I think she picked up on my struggle to fit the original story idea into a space a bit smaller and tighter than the screenwriting process would otherwise require--if that doesn't sound too moronic.

I am NOT saying that Blake Snyder's beat sheet killed my cats. I wrote the screenplay by myself from my own idea. I am the sole author and I bear sole responsibility for the outcome. Period. Besides, I think the beating is responsible for the following sentence: "You set up your premise well, the pacing and tone were consistent, the characters felt more than one-note, your humor and language were edgy and rang true to the ear..."

I re-read SCRATCH after digesting the rest of her notes. I still like the premise and script. What I'm not sure of now is whether I'll submit it anywhere else. I haven't had a chance yet to talk to M about the notes--she's been super busy lately. But I'm not in a hurry. Hey, it's summertime...

The inevitable outcome is I return to the trees as a spec monkey. That in itself isn't so bad, but I'll have to eat my own words, to wit: I won't write another spec until I sell one.

See what happens when you shoot your mouth off? Consider yourselves warned.

Summertime also means reading-time and with all the hubbub lately I've not had a chance to mention my current summer read: Writing Drama by Yves Lavandier.

Mr. Lavandier's publisher sent me a review copy recently and I've been wearing the tip off my highlighter. Here's a line I marked: "...drama is an art and will never be an exact science, and because the rules are rich and complex, these cannot be simply reduced to a series of formulae."

He's also put his efforts where his words are. He wrote and directed a feature in 2001 titled, Oui, mais... (Yes, but...) that earned a few awards. The publisher told me a DVD will be available from Amazon on July 17.

So, between writing and reading I'm gonna be one busy little spec monkey.

Enduring Readers of this wee-blog have seen the notes I've received from Biz folken--the few left in Town who still write them. I always appreciate receiving them and even when they're not even close to glowing. I'm a writer, so I appreciate someone taking the time to write me notes.

I received an email from one of my Pitch Fest contacts. I didn't pitch this exec in person. I emailed her my 3 synopses based on her company's Fest sheet. Anyone over the age of fifteen has seen one or more of the films she and/or her company have been involved with. Some of these films cost a lot of money and made a lot of money. She was at Universal when Universal was big.

Here are her notes to me:

Dear David,

Okay, one at a time.

I'm having trouble with SCRATCH conceptually, because ultimately, I'm not sure who the audience is for this film. It's not enough to say "everyone loves cats"--indeed, I have three. Is it a male fantasy to have a larger relationship with a feline? Do women wish they were loved by men who see them no more than pets? Is this THAT DARN CAT meets the SHAGGY DOG? Once the gimmick is on the table, does the piece lose its steam? CAT WOMAN with Halle Berry, great casting, was a bust. This sounds like a high-concept, but at the end of the day, I believe it to be very limited. (By the way, I had a similar problem with SPLASH, and look how that turned out.)

FEAR OF THUNDER doesn't work for me, because I really don't know why Paul Shannon has to play dad to an eighteen year old he's never met nor cares about--he's a bad guy. And does this film take place on sea? Is this a thriller like CAPE FEAR or DEAD CALM? Or a drama? I'm just not intrigued with this premise.

FALSE SECURITY is, to my mind, LADY KILLERS/OCEAN'S THIRTEEN REDUX. In other words, the worst crew on a heist for statuettes? Again, I'm not jumping up and down for this concept.

As such, I'm going to pass at taking a look at these scripts, but I do thank you for the introduction and wish you sincere good luck with them.

I read the notes and thought. Then I forwarded the email to M, let her know I'd send a thanks, and thought some more.

I didn't feel defensive. None of the notes were necessarily wrong, nor were any of them necessarily right. I might change my one-sheets in one or more ways to prevent misunderstandings about some of the aspects mentioned in the notes. I cringed at her use of Catwoman. I knew that exact comparison was going to be made by a producer one day as soon the show tanked. And I knew there was nothing I could do about it.

I wrote her a thank you note--and I truly hope every writer who gets notes thanks the note-writer. I send thanks no matter what I think of them. Too few producers write notes. A simple note of thanks can ensure the ones who do remain willing to continue.

I couldn't help but mention the double irony of the producer's example using Splash. I related the "Splash with a cat" episode. Perhaps an appreciation (or complete agape) of irony is a requirement for success in Hollywood. Regardless, the producer appreciated the irony enough to request the first 15 pages of SCRATCH.

I know, it's ironic.

I stumbled upon it by accident. It's a word unlike any other and orders of magnitude more powerful than any f-word you've thought of all ready. The amazing thing is it's a word you know.

But this word is like a gun. We know what a gun is, and some of us have handled and fired them. But the vast-vast majority of us have never used a gun to terrify someone. But you know a word that can terrify a person every bit as much as presenting them with a view down the barrel of Dirty Harry's cocked and loaded .44 magnum.


BEGIN DISCLAIMER
Parents: Please make sure your minor children are not within viewing distance of the screen.
Those persons with pulmonary conditions making them sensitive to emotional shock are advised to STOP READING NOW.
The author of this essay, his agents and/or assigns offer no warranty real or implied for anything and especially not the f-word about to be revealed.
And that's in perpetuity and forever too.
END DISCLAIMER


Okay, now that my butt his covered I can reveal the word and it's a big load off my shoulders to do so. I won't play the Frodo part in this little tale. Nope. You won't find me climbing either a real or imaginary volcano to dispose of the metaphorical power of the f-word.

I'd rather share it with you, the gentlest Readers in the known universe. You decide what to do with the awesome power the f-word holds. Just please-please-please don't try to rule the world--things are just too much of a mess right now.

The word is: F A I L U R E

See? I told you you knew it. You've even used it. But, like the gun, we're careful when using it. We never point the word at someone. We don't point it at ourselves either and for the same reason: It's terrifying!

I discovered this word by accident at Pitch Fest. Things got slow at registration and we got to joking around. I said I was going to offer a class next year titled: What's Your Plan 'B'? Preparing for Failure in Hollywood

Wow, talk about a buzz-kill. I glanced around at the widening stares in my direction. But not being one to quit when I'm behind, I said matter-of-factly, hey not everybody with a script is going to sell one.

A couple people went pale and another's breathing was quick and shallow. Then someone said, it's just a matter of trying hard and really wanting it.

But fear had raised their voice an octave and they didn't reassure anyone. Soon there's 4 people all telling me how failure is simply not inevitable. Ever. For any one. For any reason. Not even me. So shut up.

Now these were all writers I was talking to and every one old enough to know better. They should have known this is an old theme and rendered most brilliantly in Eugene O'Neill's, The Iceman Cometh. I recommend the AFT production starring Lee Marvin as Iggy.

Cripes, it's going to be a long hot summer. Let's start by lightening up.

Link: The Great American Pitch Fest 4

I didn't plan on going. I got email Wednesday night asking for volunteers starting Friday to help over the weekend. I'm still not sure why I agreed to volunteer. I'm not one who jumps at chances to volunteer and especially not to assist a for-profit convention in Universal City.

Curiosity was a big factor. I felt like I had to get off my numb ass and at least see what those Canadian organizers were up to. I was also curious to meet some of my fellow screenwriters and the Biz folken who would hear their stories. I wanted a reality check. I thought maybe I might pitch a screenplay or two.

- The Pitchers -

In three days I interacted with more writers than I have in my whole life. There were over 400 attending the fest. They came from all over the U.S. and Canada. I met a few from Australia. The age-range was significant. One was a 10-year-old girl there to pitch a comedy. Another was a man in his eighties. Most were friendly, considerate, and energetic. A few were complete assholes.

The average IQ of the writer attendees was well above the median. I expected that so maybe I'm biased. Same goes for the average level of neurosis: definitely off the the proverbial shoulder of the metaphoric curve. Bear in mind however that this group contains mostly people who aren't gregarious by nature. For many attendees it was the social equivalent of drinking from a fire hydrant.

I didn't expect as many women to attend. My rough guess from working the pitch floor on Sunday: about 50%.

The average age was significantly higher than expected. My rough guess: 30-35.

Most were non-smokers.

- The Batters -

There were many late additions to the roster bringing the total to nearly 100 prodcos and agencies/managers on the floor by 10:00 a.m. Sunday.

Most prodcos sent actual working execs. Maybe 30% were proxies from the lower ranks.

Most were friendly, considerate, and energetic. A few were complete assholes.

Most were non-smokers.

I spoke with an exec from IFC/MFilm Sunday afternoon. I asked him if he was hearing good pitches. He said he'd heard many. I remarked that writers aren't always "good in the room," and bless his heart he said he never holds that against a writer--he doesn't expect one to be comfortable in that kind of meeting. I don't know if his attitude is common among execs.

Several first-timers told me they were very impressed with the event. I can only imagine what they expected--something akin to an epic fuster cluck I bet--hey, it's Hollywood after all: a town where too many clichés are all too true.

- Me -

Yes, I pitched some scripts. I concentrated on prodcos looking for comedies--I have two gathering dust and would love to know if either one or both are anything more than brass-bradded doorstops.

I'm happy to report that I got actual laughs several times while relating the antics of Kitty and Dr. Will, and Luther Wyatt's crazy crew's plan to steal gold. I also pitched FEAR OF THUNDER a couple times and got some genuine-seeming interest.

No one's called me to make a preemptive purchase so far, but those execs were pretty burned out by Sunday afternoon. I probably won't hear anything until later in the week--they need some time to recover.

I was mostly friendly, considerate, and energetic. A few times I was a complete asshole.

I smoked more than usual.

I've been trying to think of a good example of a writer-as-role-model. So far, not so good. I can think of various writers I like and none of them are good role models. I wouldn't want a child of mine emulating the attitudes or lifestyles of any of the writers on my short list:

1) Ernest "Papa" Hemingway
A boozing womanizer with no visible means of support. And why the nickname? He never had kids. I see him drunk on rum and sweaty from the Florida humidity coaxing some underage local to count the toes on his kitties...
Sorry Ernie you're not role-model material, but thanks for all the books.

2) William Faulkner
An alcoholic from the south who liked to date much younger women. He must have believed his compromised liver had finally landed him in heaven when his hungover self came to in a writer's bungalow in 1930's Hollywood. Oh well, at least he became a good screenwriter.

3) John Updike
John who? Exactly. He won two Pulitzers from the Rabbit series after writing short fiction for the New Yorker forever. He writes 3 hours a day six days a week. But he's never left the east. Even my aunt left the east--the most eastern east coaster you will ever meet! Mr. Updike is just too weirdly eastern and obscure to be any kind of role model.

And the list just goes on like that. I'm thinking that maybe writers become writers simply because they're not qualified to do anything else. And I suppose that qualification-less qualification includes me. Can you imagine Melville working as an accountant? Or Poe as a roofer? How about Hunter S. Thompson, M.D.? As for me? I'm not putting myself in the class of those listed above but still, you wouldn't want me drilling your teeth or managing your portfolio.

So parents, the message is clear: Don't let your babies grow up to be writers.

I'm in a pissy mood. Maybe it's hormones--yes, we Y-chromo types get fluctuations too. I think there are extenuating factors beyond the biological. Here's an excerpt from my affidavit:

I recently received two (2) direct inquiries about my current level of "creative" output; i.e. am I making pages and if so, what are the gist of those pages. These inquiries came within a 48 hour period from two different and unacquainted persons causing me a high degree of concern and emotional distress...

But seriously, I did get the inquiries I describe above but I have not retained counsel on the matter. I'm in a snit because my honest answer was in the negative. I have not made "creative" pages since finishing The Princess and the King way back in December of last year. I haven't really wanted to. I don't have Writer's Block by any description I've read or heard. I have notes on dozens of stories any one of which could be my next "creative" project. Screw it. I'm through with showcasing. I refuse to write into a void. I'm tired of writing for the entertainment of flakes. I don't suffer from hypergraphia so I'm not compelled to go through the motions--and that's what writing feels like lately: going through the motions, grunt work.

M was one of my creativity inquirers. As my manager she has every right to make that inquiry and my obligation as her client is to answer honestly. We discussed my apparent apathy. I know she'd like another drama spec--we don't even talk about comedies these days--it's a very serious subject. We reached a compromise: M will review the loglines I have collected on disk. If something jumps out at her I'll do it, otherwise I'll send her the latest list and we'll see what we'll see.

Maybe I'm overdue for another spleen venting: I'll just open up those proverbial ducts and let the metaphorical bile flow. The feeling of angst-ridden pressure is what prompted the writing of The Princess and the King--it was three days of cathartic bliss I could appreciate a lot right now, to wit:

I was reminded recently that my best screenplay (TRISTAN AND ISOLT) is at best a writing sample. I felt pissed off when I was hit strongly by the fact that I'll never get to see that show. Not a chance. Won't happen. I'm still pissed off. I like all my screenplays and believe they're all worth their respective budgets. But T&I is different and writing it was too. I know I have a few more "best" scripts in me but my next best won't be a spec. Nope. I'd rather do my next best work as an uncredited but paid screenwriter. It's become a matter of principle--a corrupt, twisted principle by some standards but I'm utterly okay with it.

That's how I feel since the past 4 years: Like I've been riding one bubble or another and each one has burst in its time.

My bubble-riding coincides with the beginning of this wee-blog way back in May of 2003. No grand bubble-riding plan involved, just happenstance. Perhaps my bubbly-bursting journey will make for a good story one day--it all depends on the ending.

I can't help but notice as I look back at the past four years and even further, that the only endings I have control over are for the stories I write. So many endings so far, so many chapters closed already, and it feels like I had nothing to do with any of them. That's not true of course--I probably had more influence on more endings than I'd care to realize. I mean: Who wants to be intimately involved in the making of a bad ending? The only thing worse (or at least as bad) is waiting for an ending, and especially waiting a long time for one.

I spent a week out of Town 10 days ago. I visited my mother and did some yard work for her, real Farmer John flannel shirt with suspenders kind of work. I was glad to return to SoCali. Washington State is too unrelentingly green. I prefer looking out my window to see a palm tree, a live oak, and eucalyptus all at once. I prefer both flora and fauna that can live in a semi-arid basin as opposed to rain forest.

And so year 4 A.B. leaves me waiting atop yet another bubble over a chasm of uncertain endings. I suppose things could be worse. The bubble hasn't burst yet.

I'm referring to the word "guru" of course and its specific connotation for screenwriting and screenwriters.

But before I jump into those muddied waters of unknown depth here's a quick update on me, the most unguruesque writer you'll ever read:

My manager, M has mounted a major assault on the readers of the Town to put FEAR OF THUNDER under some appropriate noses. We talked the other day about the current state of affairs and, despite our best efforts, we're both anticipating the relative famine to become something akin to a feast. The Town is hubblin' and bubblin' lately and the proverbial lid is about to lift off the metaphorical pot. Now you're up to date. Onward...


.: Introduction :.

Question: Would the art and/or craft of screenwriting suffer if one person became the de facto standard (guru) for narrative structure and plot?

In other words, should screenwriting be dominated by a specific method? Do screenwriters need a creative Microsoft®?

I intend to answer those questions. This essay will document the process.

I'm writing an essay about screenwriting and gurus now because I might be too busy to write it next month--hell, I might be too busy to write it later this month. We'll see. And perhaps most importantly for me, I'm going "on record" before I make a sale: I want readers willing to add as much intellectual salt to my opinions as they require.

First off, let's get our terms straight. Here's what the Word Wide Webster lexicon says:

Main Entry: gu·ru
Pronunciation: 'gur-ü, 'gü-rü also g&-'rü
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural gurus
Etymology: ultimately from Sanskrit guru, from guru, adjective, heavy, venerable -- more at GRIEVE
1 : a personal religious teacher and spiritual guide in Hinduism
2 a : a teacher and especially intellectual guide in matters of fundamental concern b : one who is an acknowledged leader or chief proponent c : a person with knowledge or expertise : EXPERT

This essay will concentrate on the use of the word as denoted in definitions 2a through 2c and my focus is on the most recent screenwriter to don that heavy mantle: Blake Snyder.

Begin Full Disclosure
I'm acquainted with Blake and have been since 2003. He's always been friendly, considerate, and helpful to me, i.e I have no personal beef with the guy. We haven't talked in awhile--he's been super busy, and I've either been busy or waiting to be and when I'm waiting to be busy I'm not always good company.

I attended Blake's book signing in 2005 for Save the Cat! and my signed copy is presently resting atop Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States. On pages 11 and 12 of Save the Cat! Blake writes about my battle with SCRATCH (a romcom). I'm the screenwriter who "bitched and moaned" about having to rework my logline and the entire premise of the story. And in my own defense I'll say I moaned a lot more than I bitched.

I met Blake's manager, Andy Cohen at the book signing. He was completely uninterested in me as both a writer and fellow Homo sapiens. He wasn't rude or unkind, just utterly uninterested. We haven't spoken since that night in 2005 and I've never corresponded with him. Mr. Cohen read SCRATCH in late 2005 or early 2006--a copy sent to him by Blake. He didn't like it.

Blake read the outline, and later a draft of my next screenplay, FALSE SECURITY (a comedy). Act III was a bitch-kitty. Neither of us liked it nor knew what to do to fix it--a case where even the Beat Sheet® didn't reveal all the narrative flaws. I finally came up with a version we liked. I still like it--for better or worse. I don't know if Blake still does.

I wrote FEAR OF THUNDER on my own. I dimly recall using the beat sheet but my current hard drive contains no copy of an outline and I've been too lazy to dig into my deep archives. Neither Blake Snyder nor Andy Cohen have read FEAR OF THUNDER as far as I know.

I have never read a screenplay written by Blake Snyder. I have read a weekly column he used to write. It was hilarious. I won't reveal the name of the column because Blake never put his name to it. I don't know why. Like I said, it was hilarious.

I have no plans to write a book about screenwriting ever in my life. I am not now, nor have I ever been employed by a writer. I have no financial interest in any writing seminars or workshops being conducted anywhere on this planet.
End Full Disclosure

.: On Becoming a Secular Guru :.

There may be many paths to that raised and rarefied place, but at minimum one needs at least one person, preferably a journalist, to bestow the title. It appears that Blake was first bestowed in September of last year: Blake Snyder, Screenwriting Guru, Answers 3 Questions
Next, the bestowee must accept the title and begin using it. Blake used his as recently as February of this year. In this interview with ScribbleKing Blake says, "I am unlike other screenwriting gurus out there."

So it's official: The title of screenwriting guru was bestowed upon and accepted by Blake Snyder.

One might argue, and correctly so, that it takes more to become a functioning secular guru than a journalist's bestowment and the bestowee's acceptance of guru status. It helps to have a book or two published wherein one pontificates. It also helps if one's guru book(s) are being read by their target audience. According to Blake's blog, "Save the Cat! is now outselling Robert McKee’s Story on Amazon, making Cat! the #1 screenwriting book overall." Blake's got the books and readers aspect totally covered.

The seminar circuit is the next path to travel: The guru must manifest himself unto those who thirst for his proverbial fountain of knowledge and seminars/workshops are the perfect watering holes for acolytes.

.: Which Manifests First, The Guru or the Title? :.

The question begs one or more questions, but I don't feel like riding a slippery slope just now. When the question is applied to chickens and their shelled ovums the answer is easy: The egg came first because chickens come from eggs. I don't see the answer nearly as simple for gurus of any ilk: Eggs are physical, gurus are conceptual. There are some tells that separate the functional gurus from mere poseurs: Reviewing the guru's credentials is a good start.

Blake Snyder has credentials. He's on record as writing 78 screenplays and selling exactly 39 of them including his latest horror/comedy. He states that two of those 39 screenplays were produced, to wit, Blank Check and Stop or My Mom Will Shoot.

The consistency of the guru's statements over time are also a good way of determining if the secular guru-in-question is functional. Blake has been mostly consistent but this Blake Snyder interview with Jenna Glatzer is a lot more like the Blake I corresponded and spoke with in 2003 through 2004. The interview is undated but Glatzer states in the intro that Blake had sold 10 screenplays (including the two I mentioned above) and NUCLEAR FAMILY to Amblin Entertainment--still unproduced. Blake states in the interview that he'd written 74 scripts--that's a difference of 29 screenplays sold based on his most recent tally.

If my memory is remotely reliable, I read that interview back in late 2002 or early 2003 and the beat sheet (BS1) was linked there. It's not linked from there any more possibly because the BS1 has been deprecated by the current BS2.

There are other inconsistencies. Here's a few that caught my eye from the Glatzer interview:

"I never took a screenwriting course until after I sold my first screenplay."

"...I'm self-taught and, frankly, I think everyone is."

"... I'm still convinced that concept is king. No matter how good a script is, if no one is in the mood to buy a "giant alligator" movie (or whatever) they won't."

.: The Guru's Message: Does it Parse? :.

A diligent acolyte will objectively compute the guru's parse index (PI). The PI is more an intuitive exercise in logic than a mathematical task.

A simple example: Is the guru under test directly contradicted by one or more peer gurus?

One must of course verify that the comparator guru is of equivalent stature to the one in comparison. A positive response will lower the guru's PI.

My favorite question: Is the guru always right?

By definition, gurus should always be right. By "right" I'm saying that every statement the guru makes must be verifiable as 100% correct. I'm not denying that people make mistakes and gurus, no matter how exalted, are people. Yet I expect anyone accepting the title to always be right within their area of expertise. The answers a guru gives to legitimate questions must always be 100% correct. I don't expect a guru to always have the correct answer immediately in mind. I'll accept a guru's need for time to research and verify their answer before giving it. They can take as much time as they need. That way there's never an excuse for a guru to be wrong. A guru's PI goes to zero if he gives a wrong answer.

.: Guru Theories, Guru Rules :.

Some will say my last test question is unfair no matter how eloquently I argue for its validity. So be it. How about this:

Does a valid example exist that disproves any theory propounded by a guru?

My example is from Blake Snyder's own book: The film, Miss Congeniality is sited as a $100 million dollar success and Blake shows how the film hits all his 15 beats, QED.

Then what about Hidalgo?

It hit all 15 BS beats to the minute. Hidalgo was a fast and resilient mustang but only $100 million worth of dog food at the box office. No QED there.

A disproved theory should be considered the same as a wrong answer. The same goes for any rules, like the page number of a screenplay where some aspect of a narrative must appear. Axioms must withstand the same tests.

.: In Conclusion :.

The title of guru should be taken seriously by anyone accepting it. Whereas it's only one of many foreign words adopted for use in American English, the word "guru" strongly connotes an unassailable status. I don't consider anyone truly deserving of the title: screenwriting guru. None who have claimed or accepted the title are even remotely unassailable.

The art and craft of screenwriting would be harmed by a creative Microsoft. The medium is too broad, too malleable, and too personal for both the creator and the audience to be legitimately bounded by any but the broadest definitions. No expression of talent within the medium deserves to be excluded by anyone's theory or rule.

There is no perfect operating system for computers. To understate: every available OS has flaws. Bill Gates, as an OS guru, fares no better when tested with the questions in this essay than Blake Snyder does as a screenwriting guru.

Perhaps Blake nailed it when he said he thinks we're all self-taught. Perhaps every creator must teach himself to create before learning from others how to create better if at all. Perhaps it's human nature to desire a guru: they typically promise to enlighten and smooth the acolyte's path. Perhaps creation of any type will never be easy and always inscrutable.

Perhaps Herman Melville was right when he wrote, "And perhaps after all, there is no secret."

The cinemarati will know I've slightly mangled Colonel Kurtz's advice to Captain Willard about befriending horror in a horror-filled place. Perhaps better advice to Willard might have been: "You're up to your ass in alligators. Regardless of what you think about alligators--good, bad, or indifferent--there they are. You don't have to like large carnivorous reptiles, but since you're surrounded by them I suggest you make nice."

Good advice for Hollywood dwellers too and I offer it here just in case the seminars don't cover it.

I understand better now the difference between waiting and being expectant. Being expectant is far more proactive than merely waiting. Entering a state of expectancy is often the final stage of waiting: You wait in the proverbial waiting room, but once you're escorted to the exam room you tend to expect the metaphorical doctor to arrive at any moment--yes, that's often wrong, but we do it by reflex. Waiting is usually imposed on us by people and circumstances despite our best efforts but we willingly become expectant with little or no prodding.

I'm aware of the common advice about waiting: Stay busy!

Staying busy helps: If your mental bandwidth is utterly consumed by various tasks you don't have the capacity to indulge in waiting. But since it's nearly impossible to consume all of one's mental bandwidth for any length of time we will tend to wait even while staying busy.

Kipling mentions waiting in his poem, If:
"If you can wait and not be tired by waiting..."

That's a huge "if," an epic "if," an "if" of alligators.

And so I tiredly wait. I wait while staying as busy as I can tolerate being. I wait while hoping for a reason to be expectant. It sucks.