Sunday, March 22, 2009

Pages Not Promises!

This week I banged out the phrase “PAGES NOT PROMISES!”
Run with it, people. There are enough opportunities to rant and blather (such as my blog!) in our busy 21st Century Universe. But for writers, it’s pages not promises that count.

So why is it so hard for writers to actually get the content of their work down on paper? By content, I DO NOT mean emails, ideas, journal entries, brainstorming sessions, etc. I mean prose (or dialogue if you’re a scriptwriter).

Oftentimes it is because writers are so horrified by how foolish their prose or their plays look when printed out (forgive the alliteration). We want our words to come out polished the first time. Or at least the second or third. Oftentimes it takes much, much longer.

In this weekend’s New York Times Arts & Leisure section, the paper featured a dual interview with actors James Gandolfini and Jeff Daniels who are co-starring (along with Marcia Gay Harden and Hope Davis) in Yasmina Reza’s Broadway play, God of Carnage. Check out this excerpt:

For awhile, Mr. Gandolfini said, he felt “pretty lost” and made that clear to the others. Finally he said “Jeff said, ‘Look, we’re all going through the same thing. It’s just the way it is. You’ve got to feel like you don’t know what the hell you’re doing for a while. It’s going to settle down. Shut up!’ … in a nice way.”

First of all, who doesn’t love the idea of mild-mannered Jeff Daniels telling tough lug James Gandolfini that basically every one of us is shaking in our boots when we are first making art. Give over to this fact. And shaddup!

Reading this piece reminded me of the Charlie Rose interview with Frank Langella that aired the night before the Oscars. The brilliant Langella was nominated for his completely absorbing portrayal of Richard Nixon. But playing that role was probably a cakewalk compared to how the surly Rose badgered him “at the table”. Basically, Rose wanted to know how Langella “did it.” For much of the interview Langella shares elegant generalities:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UhQJ_1JdTyw

but after these well-chosen words Rose starts hammering the poor guy, demanding he reveal the secret to his performance. Langella keeps saying things like he had to “go deeper” and just keep working hard, but Rose wouldn’t let up. Finally Langella said something to the effect of, “I had to make a fool of myself!” He explained how he showed up on the set, early on, and did a Nixon imitation that sounded like Jimmy Stewart. And it only got worse from there. But eventually, he found his way. And what a beautiful job he did.

Now I seriously doubt any of us couch loving, cookie eating, complaining and uncoiffed writers could have showed the guts Langella did in taking on the role of Nixon, or the guts that Gandolfini has, playing live nightly on B-way with hi-falutin’ actors, after so many years of being only thought of as Tony Soprano. But somehow these guys have the stones to do it. So can’t we be just a little bit brave, fellow key-bangers, and risk making total fools of ourselves in the spirit of creating art that matters, or just simple “entertainments”?

Yes, we can! And here’s how. Try these exercises, and as always, pass ‘em along to your scribey pals. For more: www.bangthekeys.com Good luck, fellow fools!

Exercise #1: Runaway Character

Imagine one of your characters runs away with your story. Example. You know that the young son of your protagonist is going to steal money from another kid. That’s how you’ve seen the story and the character. Well, what if you write a version of the scene in which the kid makes some other choice? Step 10 minutes or write 500 words or a few handwritten pages on this. Really take some risks!

Afterwards write a note to yourself about what you can use from this exercise to help your piece and your process.

Exercise #2: Most embarrassing scene

Write a scene (for your eyes only) that you’d be absolutely horrified to show to someone (pick a specific person) in your life. Example, your spouse would call you a disgusting psycho or your brother would call you a vindictive liar if they read it. You get the idea. Write the scene that you would least like to reveal to a living person, and write it with all you’ve got.

Afterwards, circle or underline the great little nuggets that jump out at you from this perverse little exercise in letting go of your inhibitions!

Let me know how it goes!
Jill “Bang the Keys” Dearman

7 comments:

Paperback Tourist said...

I've got a mob in my head, all chanting "PAGES NOT PROMISES!" and carrying placards with "WE DEMAND STORIES!" and "WRITE, NOT FLIGHT!" written on them. Excellent incentive and wise exercises (as always).

Paperback Jack

Jill Dearman said...

Right on!

Juliette said...

I have "pages not promises" taped to my laptop! You are a modern day guru with supernatural and inspirational powers. (Not to mention a pinch of jewish guilt!)

Diana said...

good advice for artists too. How'd you know about the cookies?

Jill Dearman said...

Thanks! I am always fascinating by the way writing and visual art (and music) overlap. As for cookies: I plead the 5th, Diana!

David J. Pollay said...

Hi Jill,

Great references to the challenges we all face when working our craft. Your references to Gandolfini and Langella are great. And your exercises are very creative. Thanks, Jill.

David

bewareofgarbagetrucks.com

Jill Dearman said...

thanks, David. And momentum project sounds cool!