Elmore Leonard's Ten Rules of Writing, or Against Hooptedoodle

ELMORE LEONARD'S TEN RULES OF WRITING: HOOPTEDOODLE EXPLAINED

Two weeks ago, I was lucky enough to hear Elmore Leonard speak in the renovated sunshine of Bryant Park. It, and he, were glorious. I think he actually convinced a young buck during the Q & A to stop writing his screenplay and start writing a novel. It was, Leonard said, lots more fun.

Elmore Leonard is the ultimate sexy grandpa. Writing turns him on, research turns him on, and even recounting a visit to the morgue, decades ago, brightened his bearded face.

Toward the end of the session, he read his 10 Rules of Writing. They include such gems as:

10. Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.

A rule that came to mind in 1983. Think of what you skip reading a novel: thick paragraphs of prose you can see have too many words in them. What the writer is doing, he’s writing, perpetrating hooptedoodle, perhaps taking another shot at the weather, or has gone into the character’s head, and the reader either knows what the guy’s thinking or doesn’t care. I’ll bet you don’t skip dialogue.

He went on to explain Hooptedoodle, but you'll just have to follow the link to find out.

Progress Report

Title of project: Underneath

Work completed: 6 3 x 5 cards, roughing out scenes

Research and prep: read a section of Marisa D'Vari's book "Script Magic." D'Vari urges aspiring screenwriters to create a "Magic Book," a multi-tabbed looseleaf notebook that allows the right brain to skip gaily amongst the elements of screenplays. Which sounds a sight more fun than most of the diagram-heavy screenwriting books that look more like road maps and flow charts than...writing.

DOES GOOD WRITING = GOODNESS?

I've read this essay, 'Envy' by Kathryn Chetkovich a bunch of times, and it still knocks me out. Chetkovich began dating Mr. Corrections Jonathan Franzen in the window of time before he was famous, as she was struggling to write herself. Then her father got sick, and Franzen got famous:

"It's not as though anyone thinks that being a good writer makes you a good person. But it helps. (Isn't this perhaps one reason why women, as a whole, are more apt than men to see writing and reading as therapeutic acts? All that private time spent rendering and transforming personal experience on paper is easier to justify if the writer and, ideally, reader is healed in the process.) If you're truly talented, then your work becomes your way of doing good in the world; if you're not, it's a self-indulgence, even an embarrassment. "

What do you think? Does your writing have to be good, or do good, in order for you to feel right?

And So, We Begin...

Well, it's official. I'm becoming one of those people who talks about her writing, rather than does it. But I hope not for long.

The shortish version is this: Despite the fact that I graduated from NYU with an MFA in Dramatic Writing, specializing in screenwriting, I haven't finished writing a screenplay in 21 years. I've helped lots of people finish their screenplays, in my jobs as script coach, development executive, and just plain pal...but other than a shortish "Sex and the City" spec episode I wrote for a class at Writers Boot Camp, nothing. This was not always so. In my two years at NYU, I wrote 2-1/2 screenplays while working almost full time, interning like a bastard, having a boyfriend, adjusting to being in New York, and getting the news that my father was dying of brain cancer.

Yes, there might be a clue there.

I've written lots of other things. I've published short stories and essays and I'm about to publish not one, but two books. I've developed content for a sign at Times Square, informational design for a library/theatre in Charlotte, North Carolina...

Okay, I'll stop writing about how smart I want you to think I am, and get to it.

Why this blog, amongst all the other blogs that are blogging away in the bloggy blogosphere? Because in her book about writing, "Bird by Bird," Anne Lamott talks about a necessary rite of passage in order to get to a finished manuscript. Before you write your beautiful book, she counsels, you have to write a Shitty First Draft. Until you have embraced how truly bad your first draft is going to be, Lamott warns that you may not ever finish anything. And I deeply believe that, and have written many, many Shitty First Drafts that have gone on to be...well, pretty okay. Published. Paid for. Enjoyed by others.

I just don't think I ever quite got there, after my initial attempts, with a screenplay. I wanted it too badly to be Fantastic, or, to quote one of my favorite books about improv comedy, Something Wonderful Right Away.

So this is my attempt to..well, narrate that process. To talk about my progress and defeats while I write my cinematic version of a Shitty First Draft: The Worst Screenplay in the History of the World. Sometimes I may summarize scenes. Sometimes I may link to inspiration. Sometimes I may bow before a terrific movie. (Currently, I am obsessed with "Stander," directed by Bronwen Hughes.) Sometimes I will definitely make fun of all the writing and creativity books I have read in the service of this process. Sometimes I will talk about some of my more successful writing projects.

But in the end, what I am trying to do is simple: write a 90-120-page screenplay that just...reeks. But is complete! Finished! Done! Because, to quote another movie I like, the Japanese film "Ping Pong Bath House" (not a porn movie, honest), "To continue is to succeed."

I think it's a noble goal. Please join me. Tell me your troubles. Write your own crummy screenplay! Let us stink together!