Nicholas Thurkettle

Hoo Boy.

I know that one of the reasons I am on this writing path is that, at certain moments in my development, people offered to take a gamble on my potential – and even if I wasn’t sure I could live up to it, I said yes and threw myself at the challenge. I believe that you need to watch for those moments in life, because there aren’t many of them, and they are the moments that can change everything.

There’s another piece of wisdom I’ve tried to follow in the last few years – screenwriter John August’s precept that the time you quit your day job is the moment when you absolutely, positively, cannot keep working at it and fulfill the creative obligations around you. Speculative work does not count – he’s talking about real, professional responsibilities in the arena where you want to be full-time.

Is it possible to follow both tenets simultaneously? I sure don’t know. I know I’ve gone without steady employment before in my writer’s life – sometimes it’s viable, sometimes it isn’t. The non-viable times have consequences.

The chance has arisen that I’m going to be offered a commission to write a play. A real, full-length play that would definitely be staged in a well-publicized (for the area) world premiere exactly one year from now. I would get paid to do it – not enough to live on between now and then, but certainly more than sandwich money.

This would not be a simple project. There would be travel, research, some very challenging performance elements to which the story would have to be tailored, and a branching structure that could as much as triple the length of the script. The concept is thoroughly, innately theatrical and I absolutely love that, even if the amount of labor that would go into just making the thing hang together is terrifying. If I had total freedom I would say that I needed, at absolute minimum, six months with nothing on my plate to come up with a solid first draft. As it is, they would need something they can start rehearsing and building something like 9 1/2 months from today; and I have a job to wake up for and a novel to finish and screenplays to get out to the marketplace. And, like I said – what they’re likely to offer is not enough to live on for that time, even as lean as I know how to live.

Now – there may be a way to stitch this together, and believe me I will be doing serious stitching, because I want to do this something fierce. A lot will depend on what commission they actually offer. My research into the matter has given me an expected range, and it could pay for a few months’ survival.

Financially speaking, the wisdom would be to hold the job absolutely as long as I can. My instinct as a writer tells me, though, with a hard deadline looming for something I’ve never done before, I should clean my desk of other obligations as soon as I can. The longer I hold the job, the bigger the gun I will be under to pull this off when I finally leave. And once the play’s over with – what? Will there still be a job for me? Will something else have opened up?

So much that is unknown – but I can’t let that frighten me. I know how rare a moment like this is.

That opportunity comes not through open competition, but because of a personal connection of mine. It’s not that they have nothing upon which to base their opinion that I can do the work, but I also didn’t exactly have to beat out the masses. The ultimate satisfaction for me has always been to have the work speak utterly for itself – no personal bias, no author’s note, just another clump of words pulled off the stack and studied only on its merits.

Early last month I was building an attack plan for America’s second- and third-tier literary journals with my short stories. I have no connections at all in that world, and the short stories I’ve written have not been exposed to anyone outside a few friends, so this is about as cold and naked as submissions get.

I set that goal aside when I got off on my recent writing streak; but before I did, there was one on-line quarterly that was accepting stories with a particular theme, with a deadline that was about two days away. The story that best suited it was the one I felt was the riskiest, the most esoteric, the most out of my comfort zone, so since it seemed so unlikely it would get published anyway, it would cost me nothing to just take that shot.

Last night, while at a birthday dinner with my family, my phone buzzed – they want the story for their upcoming issue; which is publishing next week. My first-ever submission of fiction, and it connected. I am still trying to fathom that. I gave myself a 5% chance at best after my plan of submitting four or five stories across forty or fifty publications. By that standard, this is simply not a sane result.

I admit I was in a grumpy mood most of the day. I didn’t sleep well, I’m pessimistic about my birthdays, and I was unusually out-of-sync at work. But during the family dinner expedition, my phone buzzed, I saw that e-mail, and suddenly everything was re-oriented in a positive way.

In one week, I will be a published author of fiction. And I did it without networking or nepotism or because I just happened to be around with a pen. Gifted as I am at kicking the pillars out from under my own accomplishments, it’s hard to wreck this one.

I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday present. Although I did get some books and Blu-Rays and an iPod dock after that.

Chuck Klosterman and I had the same observation about a certain highway sign in New Mexico.

Klosterman, in a pretty hilarious 2005 Esquire profile of Val Kilmer:

“The drive to Santa Fe on I-25 is mildly Zen; there are road signs that say, GUSTY WINDS MAY EXIST. This seems more like lazy philosophy than travel advice.“

And here’s me, after Day One of my 2007 cross-country road trip:

“There’s a sign that appears regularly along I-40 in New Mexico. It reads “Gusty Winds May Exist“. I find that unusually philosophical for a highway warning.“

Of course, Klosterman spun a better joke out of it, and effectively used it as a wraparound for the whole piece. But that’s why he makes the big bucks.

I guess it’s about time I confessed: Yes, I helped develop Piranha 3-D.

I am definitely bound to see it this weekend. Whether I see it in 3D or not is questionable, since it’s so unreliable these days. But I’ll be there, hoping for packed, laughing houses of moral degenerates. That’s what we were aiming for from the start.

Will my name be in the end credits? I have no idea, but odds are way, way against it. Will I make any money if it is successful? Not a dime. But I still feel a measure of pride, and hope the final product is something like what we envisioned back at the start.

So what did I do?
(continue reading…)

I hit 88 pages the other night, which means that at my next writing session I should cross 90 – and that’s a benchmark I prize. Since the rule is that one page approximately equals one minute of screen time when it’s all averaged out, 90 is about the minimum length at which a screenplay can be taken seriously as a feature. I’ve seen less – hell, I’ve written less – the first draft of Snowblind was 82 pages and I do believe margin cheating was involved – but 90 is really the no-arguments edge of the strike zone. Hit too close to 120 – or, God forbid, beyond – and the professional reader who flips to the last page for the number before he starts reading will hate even starting your script. I know the sound of that sigh – I’ve made it.

So, for practical, reader-friendly spec writing, 90-115 is the range. Comedies, thrillers, and horror movies traditionally run on the shorter end of that scale since they are meant to be more energetic than hefty dramas or romances. As I’ve said before, I targeted 105 for this one but am bound to overshoot that – but that’s what happens in first drafts and I don’t fear the cut-down that will undoubtedly follow.

When I cross 90, basically at any point I could make a bomb go off, have someone say “Good night, sweet Prince!“, write “FADE OUT” and BINGO – I’ve written a feature screenplay. There’s a sense of power in that, because it’s like the labor part of it is accomplished triumphantly, now it’s just about writing the pages the story needs to be the best first draft of itself it can be.

I read an essay by Francis Ford Coppola today where he underlines the oddity that people write screenplays on spec at all. A screenplay is, after all, in great measure a technical document, filled with jargon, whose purpose is to tell the lighting department what to put on the truck each day. And to spend so much time creating that document without writing a good STORY first is startlingly premature.

This falls under the pick-your-poison heading – outline, treatment, prose summary, what have you – but what he’s advocating is that you get the creative elements right before you start swimming in the jargon. Because it’s so very easy to get all that stuff right and fool yourself into thinking that because of it you’ve written a good script.

Since Hollywood is relying more and more on stories from other media on which to base their movies, and there’s little market left for spec, this is not such a terrible thing to keep in mind. The last short story I wrote, as it happens, had been living in my brain for many months – as a short film idea. And if I ever do film it, I think having written it down like this first is going to make it better.

Now I’m not going to pretend everyone is wired to understand the awesomeness that is Chromeo, but some people work far too hard at hatin’. This comes from the Amazon.com page for their upcoming album:

Check a corresponding box or enter your own tags in the field below.
lame(12)
crappy music(10)
craptacular(8)
overrated(6)
funk(7)
electro(5)
electronic pop(5)
music for morons(3)
pure garbage(2)
gay music(2)

Although, honestly, I bet they would wear “craptacular” as a badge of honor:

You are a writer in LA. You are probably poor, so you’re looking for ways to save money. You do not aspire to murder anyone, so you’re looking for ways to reduce your time in the car.

A vital part of building your routine in LA will involve finding sanctuary places – places where you can kill time between meetings and hopefully access your three lifelines – free-or-cheap parking, electricity, and Wi-Fi.

Coffee shops come to mind. Many will validate, and unless they are trendy they won’t kick you out after a half-hour. But all those Chai smoothies add up – in a month you could end up spending the equivalent of two tanks of gas.

Going to the movies is an option – you are a writer, so seeing a movie is ALWAYS an option. But once you factor in travel time, parking, and the show itself, it’s likely to eat up three hours. Sometimes that’s too big a block – your next meeting might be before that, or maybe you’re just trying to wait out rush hour.

Now the Beverly Hills Public Library – that’s a Sanctuary spot to always keep in mind. It’s close to West Hollywood, Beverly Hills, and Westwood, which is a pretty healthy concentration of potential meeting sites. They have a large, rarely-full parking deck that provides two hours of absolutely free parking during the day. Since you are a normal human being who doesn’t carry four dollars in quarters in your pocket, this is a great alternative – I’ve had to duck out of meetings to feed parking meters before. It does not make a good impression. I had to borrow change from a manager before – that made an even worse impression.

Their study room has plenty of outlets, the Wi-Fi is free, and the atmosphere of quiet is enforced by the most ardent shaming glares. You will seriously feel self-conscious if your mouse button is loud.

If you arrive after 5pm, the parking is free – you could keep your car there all night if you need to. If you’ve got a dinner or drinks meeting in the 90210, that takes care of one of your biggest headaches right there. The library may close at 6, but there’s a Coffee Bean seven minutes’ walk down the street – again, free Wi-Fi.

These are the pieces of knowledge that will help you navigate here – knowing that you can park along northbound San Vicente just below Melrose for two hours during the day; knowing that the north-south streets north of Sunset near LaBrea are permit-only at night, but there’s an east-west street that is free. This town can nickel-and-dime you to death before you’ve even had your first $9 cocktail. You’ve got to find ways to save your brain for bigger problems.

If you count either a one-line role in a webisode that featured at least one SAG performer, or a deleted scene in a direct-to-DVD feature film (and surely one of the two could count), then I have a Kevin Bacon number of only 3, according to the rules of the classic Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon game.

I did not imagine it would be that simple for someone who keeps denying he is an actor to get to 3.

I went to an Eels concert in Santa Ana last night – a small warm-up date for their upcoming world tour. I have never owned an Eels album and have no songs in my brain connected to their name. But Adam bought the tickets, they are one of his favorite bands, and it was his last night in town before a long Cincinnati sojourn, so I came along and sprung for dinner/drinks. It was an expensive springing.

I loved the show – heard some great blues/roots influences and appreciated that there was absolutely no lolly-gagging, they just stomped their way from song to song with style and joy. It was exuberantly lo-fi without being punk; but E (lead singer/songwriter/rhythm guitarist/only permanent band member) could turn it lush and melancholy in an instant with no warning. They made at least one new fan in the crowd.
(continue reading…)

Looks like someone wants to sit out training camp again.

Wow, did not intend to go two weeks without a post here. It’s not that I haven’t been blogging, but for some reason everything I have written has felt more comfortable on my filtered blog. Maybe I’ll dredge some of it over here, but since I don’t really know that anyone reads this other than Russian spambots, the incentives aren’t there after I’ve already posted it once for the people who I know do read.

For the last two weeks I’ve been deep in to a good quality writing binge. It may have been triggered by the rush of creative energy from doing the Fast & Loose show – even if that didn’t play a role, the amazing experience is still paying dividends in other ways. But since then I’ve pinned 32 new pages to this screenplay, and we’ve got lots of daylight left over here. 2-3 more weeks and I should have a draft; and so much of my creative energy has gone into the novel over the last year (for obvious financial reasons) that it’s been far too long since I got to celebrate a finished screenplay.

The other impetus I’ve considered is that I’ve just reached a point of uncontainable annoyance that this script doesn’t exist yet. Every producer to whom we’ve mentioned the idea has one of those YEAH, why isn’t THAT a movie yet? forehead smack moments. That’s one of those subtle signs that you have an idea that could be worth money; and I’ve been beaten to the punch on those more times than I care to count.