10 For The Weekend

1. Alex Gibney is a great documentary filmmaker. "Client 9: The Rise And Fall Of Eliot Spitzer" is a telling documentary about politics, the banks, and how men throw away everything for high price call girls. The film will definitely get you thinking.

Today I watched "Taxi To The Dark Side," the film he won the Oscar for. It's a film about the brutality used by American forces towards terrorism suspects since the Iraq war. The more you watch things, or read things or investigate things; the harder it is to have any sense of who the good guys are in the world. Maybe that's always been the case. Remember in school? Nazi Germany was bad and everyone else was good. Now everybody's bad and nobody's good.

2. Mariah Carey has been irrelevant for years. Nobody listens to her music anymore. But in "Precious" she drops the big breasted diva act and does something incredibly human. Amazing.

3. I met Bill Nighy a few weeks back. I was sitting in the front row of the cinema and spotted him two seats away from me. At the end of the film we chatted for a bit. If you think I'm name dropping you should see the way he casually mentioned Judi Dench.

4. I still haven't seen "Black Swan."

5. When was the last time you watched a movie without a physical or psychological problem? Most of the time we're stressed because of our day, or worrying about tomorrow's meeting, or shifting awkwardly because of a back pain, or feeling restless because of hunger. When is it ever perfect?

6. Does your girlfriend/boyfriend understand your creativity and career choices? Can they support it? Do they know when to leave you alone? Or are you single because of these very difficulties?

7. Have you noticed how your favourite TV shows always have the best theme tunes? Its impossible to love a show and hate the music.

8. You ever been caught between creativity and laziness? You can't be lazy cause you wanna be creative.. But it's not there, not happening. So you don't create, and you don't chill, instead you aggressively log in and out of your emails and make five coffees an hour; the purpose being 'to get working as soon as the coffee is made.'

9. I won a bloggie award last year and It'd be incredible to win for the second year in a row. The realistic part of me says a blog is just a blog. But the ideological side of me says that this blog represents an idea. It represents and champions stories and independence and passion and pure enjoyment of the cinema. And when something represents those things, it needs support; because the other side are over-represented. They have money, advertising budgets, hundreds of staff; and they advertise brands; and they wipe outanyone with a unique voice. So these little awards and links from people, plus the positive word of mouth -- they really mean everything. You can vote for me in the best entertainment blog category here.

10. And point 9 matters and is worth believing in because things are changing. We're in control now, not the big corporate guys. Nobody knows how the future will play out. They're hoping 3D lasts forever, but it won't. The future is being decided by fifteen year olds with flipcams. We can hold on to old ideas of filmmaking and distribution, or we can reinvent things ourselves. The playing field is getting more even. If your video is genius; three million people on YouTube will see it. if you make a second one that's just as good, another two million will see that.

You created them videos. You own them. Some corporate guy will offer you a big cheque to make a commercial or to write a screenplay for the studios. But it's up to you now, not them. You're the kid with the camera. The corporate guy wants money, you want a career. You're in the driving seat. Don't forget that. Nobody knows anything. If you have the talent: keep making stuff until you're so brilliant that they'll be asking YOU how the future will look.

Do you have 10 for me?

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1974

"So leave us alone
So leave us alone
So leave us alone
We're busy being grown"
-Ryan Adams & Alanis Morissette - "1974" (live)

I first found this song in the middle of 2001. I loved music with all my heart. And I needed it too, because I was a miserable fuck back then. Music lets you know that other people are miserable too. Ryan Adams has a way of making misery an art. He makes it beautiful. When you feel the power of someone making misery into art, it's a big insight. It makes misery a good thing. You keep craving it, because it makes your writing better. It makes your singing real. It makes your movies profound.

This song was never recorded in a studio. It was only performed live, and only performed once. It's Ryan Adams, Alanis Morissette, and a piano. And it's luck that someone recorded it.

I was that geek who'd track down rare recordings. I was the kid getting old Springsteen obsessives to send me rare bootlegs in the post. It meant something back then. My friends were out drinking, I was sitting at home listening to Dylan rarities. It seemed sad at the time, or like I was deranged in some way. But it's me. It's those things that add up to make you who you are. I couldn't really say "I am the Kid In The Front Row, I go out drinking a lot and occasionally watch movies and sometimes like Springsteen." No, to be me, it was and is to love movies and music and creative things to the point of exhaustion. It's what I'm about.

This is the only recording of this song. I wonder if even Ryan Adams remembers it. Ryan is better at this than anyone -- at creating masterpieces in one evening and then moving on without ever looking back. The guy is the most prolific songwriter there is. He wrote a song called "Dear Anne" about Anne Frank; he recorded a demo, played it live about five times and broke everyone's hearts, and then he never played it again. Luckily the song survives on Youtube, too.

"1974" or whatever it was really called (not to be confused with another song he sang by the same name on an album); was about the two singers being born in the same year. They sing about themselves and they sing about each other. And I still don't totally get the song, but I love it. There's something remarkably simple, touching, meaningful, and beautiful about it. That's a lot of descriptive words, but it deserves them all.

It's amazing to me how they played it live, once, and that was it. Luckily it was recorded, and put on YouTube a while back for more people to love. It only has 12,000 hits. It'll never have more than 100,000. Music is great like that. Just like movies. What resonates resonates. How popular it is means nothing. I'll take my little Ryan Adams rarities over Lady Ga Ga or Black Eyed Peas any day.

A lot of screenwriters and directors have big ambitions; they wanna make Spiderman. They wanna make a billion dollars. I just want to make a Ryan Adams bootleg. Well, the equivalent. And don't get me wrong, Ryan Adams is successful and rich. But it's not because he's making radio hits -- he's just making his "1974" and "Dear Anne" - but people respond.

You find out who you are more and more by finding the things you love. And you lose a bit of yourself every time you pretend to love something more than you really do just to fit in and not seem different. There may only be nine people in the world who love these songs as much as I do -- but that's such a great and exciting thing! Imagine if one day I meet one!

"I want to thank you for your thoughts

Though they weren't mine to read

P.S. keep an eye on me."

-Ryan Adams - "DEAR ANNE"

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Advice From Screenwriter JOHN COLLEE - Guest Author MANDA DIAZ

Written By Manda Diaz. 

I started reading Kid’s blog about this time last year. It was the first blog I read regularly. (I don’t think he knows this. I wonder if it will frighten him?) Back then, I was just a uni student that loved writing and reading about movies. Two internships and a lot of volunteer hours later, I’m a film journalist.

I try to play it down when my friends make comments about it being the best job in the world, but the truth is, it’s awesome. Most days I stumble around feeling like the film geek equivalent of Cinderella. Shouldn’t I still be paying my dues behind the register at a supermarket or by folding clothes at a chainstore?

One of the best things about being a journalist is the chance to talk to some absurdly creative and talented people. From a 20 minute phone conversation with a composer, a producer, a screenwriter or a director, the feature I’m writing will only ever feature a few choice quotes and anecdotes. That means I have audio files on my computer and stacks of notebooks on my desk filled with gems that nobody but me will ever have access to. It feels selfish.

My favourite interview to date was with the charming Scottish screenwriter and former doctor, John Collee (Master and Commander, Happy Feet, Creation and the upcoming Walking with Dinosaurs.)

We spoke twice- because, mortifyingly enough, I couldn’t understand the recorded audio of our first, publicist-organised conversation. Luckily, John was kind enough to let me call his mobile that weekend. We spoke for more than half an hour and he had some wonderful things to say that didn’t make the final article. So you could say this is the journalist’s equivalent of a director’s cut. I hope you enjoy it.

John Collee On Structure

• Don’t just start at the beginning and try to muddle through to the end. Actually structure the story. Start with a short synopsis and build up to a longer synopsis and then a longer and longer synopsis. Break it down into sequences and work out how you’re going to get to those sequences and really work on the skeleton of the film before you commit to dialogue and detail and description.

John Collee On story

• Know the world of the story. So that’s all about research. If you’re adapting a book, it’s not just about reading the book, but it’s about getting to know the world and immersing yourself in the emotions of the people who you’re writing about. You have to put yourself in the head space of the people you’re writing about- you’re presenting it as a subjective experience.

• Expose your writing to as many people as possible so talk about the story rather than working away on your own. Talk about the story as much as possible and get responses.

John Collee On Life, Writing & Creativity

• I was once asked what's the best advice to give to a young writer and I said “Go out and get a life.” Go out and generate some life experience, it'll almost be better as a writer, rather than studying creative writing for three years, just go out and do wild stuff. A lot of the writers and novelists who I admire, like John Steinbeck and Graham Greene and Ernest Hemingway, first and foremost lived a life of adventure. I think that's the thing to do. The truth is, style in writing is relatively unimportant. Experience of life is all important.

• Having unique life experience is an extraordinary gift. Your wealth is your life experience- good and bad. Your real wealth is not money, it's the stuff you do. And the more extraordinary, the more engaged with the world- the better.

• I definitely believe that we're defined by what we do for other people and we have an obligation to do something worthwhile. And if you do happen to be a filmmaker, you have an obligation to make good and meaningful films and not just garbage.

• The best creative work generally comes out of being engaged with family, people and society. And if you're properly engaged, then great creative stuff comes out of that. Some of the best journalism I ever wrote was descriptions of the patients who I'd treated when I was working in the third world.

• Write about something that’s important. By all means, find the stories that inspire you but then try and analyse why they’re important, what they’re about. What do you want your audience to feel differently upon leaving the movie theatre?

Writing and storytelling can be lonely. You spend so much time living in your own head, that you forget there are other people out there that can help you and guide you when you're stuck (which is just what Kid did when I emailed him, struggling to put together this post.) Magazine writing often feels very one sided. That's why communities like this blog are important- they encourage sharing and feedback, and most importantly, they remind you that you're not alone. Thanks to Kid for giving me this opportunity to spill these tips. Better they're out in the blogosphere than hidden in a notebook in my desk drawer.

You can read Manda's fantastic blog Memoirs Of A Word Nerd HERE.

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ORANGES AND SUNSHINE Film Review

I'm going to have to insist you see it. It has the weight of a Holocaust movie. But then it would do because it's about people being sent somewhere against their will, and come the end of it they don't even know who they are anymore.

And it's all true. It's about the children who were deported from England to Australia from the end of the war up until as recent as 1970. They didn't want to go. They didn't get a choice. Apparently 130,000 children were deported from the UK. Can you believe that?

"you feel for us, 'cause we can't."

This is a story about identity. About being taken to another country and being made to work as a slave. To have one piece of clothing for your entire childhood as you work as a labourer. The English have blood on their hands. So do Australians. So does the Church. We're good at hiding this stuff.

It's directed by Jim Loach. You can't write about him without mentioning he's Ken Loach's son. But it's not important. This is Jim's film. He spent eight years working on it and developing it with screenwriter Rona Monro, and with Margaret Humphreys, who it's based on.

This film is why Emily Watson became an actor. She's never been better than in 'Oranges & Sunshine.' Not that she's ever been bad. Here she's at career best. You care for her because you care for her character, but also because she reminds you of you. So do the orphans as they try to face up to their history, try to face up to not knowing who their Mother's are. You relate to it because of how human they are. Some are broken hearted and weak, some put up huge walls and refuse to be emotional. It's just like me and you.

'Oranges & Sunshine' is gritty. Not in the graffiti-filled-council-estates kind of way, but in that it gets down to the nuts and bolts of life and corruption. The church was involved, the children's charities were involved, the governments were involved. This is why film is important. It teaches us what we don't know and it reminds us of what we do know. It's a mirror for our best and worst.

A lot of stories need to be told, but they get told badly and the meaning is lost. Not this one. It'll get you. It makes people cry and it makes people think and it makes people talk. That's what we want independent films to do.

The film comes out in the UK in April and in the USA some time after. Hopefully the film will get distribution in other territories too. We'll see in they do a deal in Berlin. The world needs to see this film. Keep it on your radar.

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All Is Not Remembered

A snapshot. A memory. Walking with some guy I didn't know in some place I'd never been. Sitting on a rooftop with some girl I'd never see again in a place I never wanted to leave. Fading away and disappearing from my mind, a picture of a smile and the smell of an old coat.

The common memories are the ones with all the details but the important ones are just a snapshot. A picture of a photograph of a feeling of a moment some time far away enough to be forgotten. But you remember something. Hardly anything.

Her look meant love. Or it meant goodbye. Or it meant nothing. And it doesn't matter any more because all that's left is a faded memory of someone who might not remember you at all. But it's there somewhere between completely faded and unbelievably vivid.

Snapshots of the people you knew and the places you passed and the thing you thought you were. They could be you or they could be anyone or they could be nothing at all.

And I wouldn't bring it up but this is exactly, EXACTLY; what good films are about.

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Interview With Weblog Award Nominee MR LONDON STREET

The great thing about blogging, is that anyone can do it. The bad thing about blogging is, also, that anyone can do it. That's precisely why it's such a great thing when you find someone whose writing resonates with you. Mr London Street is one of those bloggers.

What I like about Mr London Street, is that he just writes. He takes the things in his head and puts them down on the page. We all do this, but very few of us make an art of it. Mr London Street has a singular voice, yet is consistently able to write with uniqueness and originality. I was immensely happy to hear that his blog has been nominated in the 'Best European Blog' category at the 2011 Weblog Awards. You can vote for him here. 

As we are both nominees, and big fans of each others writing, we thought it'd be fun to interview each other, to learn a little bit more about what makes the other one tick. 

I've been reading your blog for a couple of years now, and I love it, but -- I still feel like I don't really know what it is. What is it? What are you writing about?

If I was in the mood to answer a question with a question I'd probably say: why does it matter? This strikes me as the sort of question they used to warn me would be on the paper of the entrance exam for Oxford University - there was such a paper, believe it or not, and some of the most infamous questions included Is this a question? (apparently the answers "No", "Yes", "No, therefore yes" were all considered to be frivolous) and Examine the idea that the history of a mouse is more worthwhile than the history of a mountain.

The honest answer to your question is that I don't know. I think my blog is about me, and that me has changed since I started writing nearly two years ago. At first, it was just a place to write funny stories from my past, or bits and pieces from my day at work or with my friends. Gradually, since then, the way I write and the sort of writer I am has changed. Now there are more ambitious ideas, longer pieces or things that open up a bit more from the specific to the general. And in the process I suppose what I write has become more relatable.

I am very loath to say more than that, and I worry that trying to talk about what writing is about starts to creep into the pretension where you stop talking about plots and start talking about themes. I suppose if I had to try to sum it up - and I'm surprised by how uncomfortable I feel trying to do this - I would say that if my writing is about anything it is about the beauty and universality of a lot of things that usually get the undeserved tag of 'mundane', and about how wonderful it is to have a sense of home and of feeling at home in your life - whether that's in a community, in the comfort of quotidian routines or in marriage.

How do you get ideas for your posts? I'd love to hear about the process; from a seed of an idea through to the posting on your site.

They vary very widely, and I find that interesting in itself. Some experiences, even as I'm having them, I know I am going to write about and those pieces tend to come out very quickly from a single image or a single idea in one go. A good example of that would be something like The couple in the mall or Immediacy. Both of those were written pretty much on the spot on my phone, there and then, because I had the idea and I knew what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. I would say quite a few of the shorter posts are at least a little bit like that.

Longer, more complicated posts are different. The experience has more time to percolate and I give them more thought, often writing the post in several attempts or across several different forms. So there may be a bunch of bullet points hastily jotted down on my phone so I don't forget, or a series of notes scribbled in a notepad, or a few paragraphs or sentences here and there that I know I want to use. These pieces are the harder ones to write. When they are written in several different goes I always worry that people can tell - that they look like one of those Frankenstein cars made of two cars welded together and that everybody can clearly see the join in the middle, that one half is red and the other half is gold, different makes, different models. Of course, they don't notice, or in any case if they do they are very kind and don't tell me. A good example of this would be Life on other planets which was made out of lots of different things - a series of notes on my phone made at the time when I was out in Istanbul, the first third of the post written out about a week later and then the rest written a couple of days after that. If it looks like it flows coherently than that in itself is a minor miracle.

Someone asked me once in the comments whether my blog posts are a stream of consciousness written quickly in one go and published or carefully worked on. She then said "actually, don't tell me". She might want to look away now, but I put an element of care into all of them. Whenever I've written something I go through and check it again before I hit publish. I check whether it makes sense. I check for spelling mistakes. I check for empty phrases I repeat throughout the post, or words I use again and again, and I get rid of or change them. I think about whether I've said things how I want to say them. I think however good a piece is when you write it, a little bit of attention before you hit the publish button can make it even better. And I almost regret telling you this because it sort of sounds sad, but I take what I write seriously. You'd be surprised, too, by how many I change one or two words on after I've hit that button.

I'm not sure if I've completely answered your question so to give you one more example - my most recent post is called Chemistry and is a portrait of a man I work with. When I went down to meet him, I kind of had a feeling as the day unfolded that I found him and our relationship interesting, and I thought I would write about it. There were little details - the conversation I had with him about him feeling ill, the rosary beads hanging from the corner of his monitor - that made me think about our complicated relationship and my compassion for him despite our turbulent working interactions. I think I made the decision at that point that there was something there worth writing about.

On the train home I made some mental notes and jotted down some bullet points (rosary beads/indigestion/conference calls - "let me finish") so I wouldn't forget the sort of things I wanted to mention. Then I had a crack at writing some of it longhand - which doesn't always happen - and sat on it for about another day. Then all the other parts came together when I sat down at my laptop and tried to make it into a single piece capturing everything I wanted to say about him, whether it was things that had happened that day or stuff I remembered from two years of working with him. The image which kind of sits over and wraps up the post, of us being molecules, came right at the end and felt like solving a puzzle because that was exactly how I wanted to describe what happens between him and I. Last of all, I showed it to my wife before hitting the publish button. That's something which happens quite often these days; a baffled look from her means I probably need to make some changes.

There is a real feeling of community with your blog. Every post has an abundance of comments and conversations going on. Was this something you planned, or is it just how it's happened?

It's happened without me planning it at all and it takes me quite by surprise because I still don't really think of myself as a community-spirited type. In particular, I'm a shocking citizen of the blogosphere - I'm not good at joining clubs or cliques and nowhere near as good at dropping by other people's blogs and commenting as I should be.

I've also never been one of those bloggers who finishes a post with a question in italics saying What do you think? or Have you ever had an experience like this? That strikes me as like getting to the end of a television show and hearing the voiceover man give you a premium rate number to ring if you've been affected by any of the issues featured in the episode. I try to make the pieces I publish stand alone, in the hope that you can read one or a dozen and understand what they're about without having had to read for months. In a way, that's inclusive because it means anyone can start anywhere, but I also thought it might create less of a community spirit in that there are less running jokes, less of a feeling like you're a member of a club.

So I have to say I'm amazed, despite all of that preamble, that I'm so lucky to have a lot of people who read, and come back, and comment letting me know that they have. And you're right that they are all incredibly supportive - I feel like they care about what I write, and feel like they are rooting for me, and that they feel like they know me and that, if they lived nearby, we might be friends. I don't understand people who would find that odd - of course I want people who read my blog to feel as if they know me, because my blog is about me. I suppose if I'm aiming for anything it's twofold - I want never to put anything up on my blog that I'm not happy with and I want to be the blog in everybody's blogroll that they most look forward to seeing a new post from.

That said, I have got a lot more community spirited in the two years since I started. I try and reply to all my comments (even if the only thing you can think to say is "thanks!"), I always thank people who are commenting for the first time and I genuinely like and try to remember the fact that all these people not only spent time in their lives reading something I created but also took the extra time to tell me they read it. Or - and this always moves me more than I'd necessarily tell them - that they read it more than once.

You once told me that you're not interested in writing novels. Is this still the case? What is the ideal goal with your writing?

I get nagged by friends about writing fiction quite a lot, but I still don't have any interest in it. I'd feel silly making things up. I know that I could probably make more headway if I wrote fiction, and that there are more places that I could try to have my work published, but I can't be something I'm not. Maybe when I run out of things I want to say about my life I'll start writing about other people, or me disguised as other people, but I can't see when that point will come. I'm certainly not there yet.

I suppose it will be a big leap if it happens; I remember the first time I wrote something on my blog that was a departure from the fairly superficial tone I started out with (a piece called Opening the time capsule). I had a nasty feeling that I was taking an incredible risk and that everybody would laugh. Writing fiction would feel an awful lot like that to me.

I don't know what the ideal goal with my writing is. I will say this though, as time goes by I am increasingly struck by how important it is to me and how seriously I take it. For years the only thing I was proud about and passionate about in my life was my marriage - if you'd asked me, I would have unquestionably have said that it was my finest achievement. And it still is, but it's nice to have something in second place on the podium (however far behind) because for many years there was nothing at all.

One of my problems is that I don't think there is a market for the sort of writing I do and there's still a huge amount of snobbery about writing in the blogosphere as if writing in a blog by definition can't be real writing, it's just something you do when you're not doing proper writing (something not helped by the fact that "real" writers, when they do have blogs, generally make such a bad job of them). So I suppose the ideal goal is that one day somebody with some influence in publishing takes an interest in my writing and decides there is a niche in the market for someone who's not as funny as David Sedaris, doesn't write as long pieces as Augusten Burroughs, is a lot more male than Sloane Crosley and is considerably less American than all three.

Maybe one day. But until then I love doing what I do, and even if I never get paid for it I wouldn't stop. No offence to you, because your question is a very interesting one, but I do get a bit tired with "when are you going to write a novel?" as if that was the only kind of writing that has any validity.

I feel like you really put yourself on the line with your writing. Your writing is you, and you are your writing. Especially as, these aren't works of complete fiction-- they come from your life. So it must be hurtful when people don't get it, or when the comments aren't as favourable as you'd hoped. Does criticism trouble you? And also, I guess an extra question is -- do you KNOW when your writing is ON, and when you're having an OFF day?

It was the first time, the first time hurt. I wrote a piece, it must have been this time last year, about how soul-destroying it could be working on an industrial estate when you spend all your school days being told you could do anything you wanted. And nearly everyone was so lovely - they either said they thought I could do anything (which shows they've never seen me dance, if nothing else), or they said "me too! this isn't fair", or some mixture of the two. One person though commented anonymously (they are nearly always anonymous, aren't they?) saying - and I'm paraphrasing here - that it was ridiculous of me to say so, as if I thought I was better than everyone else. I found that very difficult.

Since then, it's got a lot easier. First of all, my writing is a big part of my life and I put a lot of myself into my writing, but it isn't all of me. If people don't like it they may think they don't like me, but they don't know me. It helps that the criticism I have had in blog posts since then is from people who clearly haven't read my writing but are just having a go because I have fallen out with their friends in the past. Two years of writing, and knowing that I am getting better, and getting the sort of comments you want to print out, frame and put on your wall makes this sort of thing far more comfortable to bear.

Harder are the times when people don't get it or when you really feel like you nailed it and everybody else seems less convinced. That is difficult, yes. But the first law of blogging is that the ones you love are never the ones that get the most comments. The second law of blogging is that you never get as many comments as you think you should. The third law is that when you get enough comments, you'll always think they are the wrong kind. People will say "I liked that, me too" (which, when it boils down to it, are the two sentiments most likely to make anybody put a comment on) and any blogger will look at that and think: Is that IT? Why didn't they comment about how beautifully I put this, or quote their favourite sentence back at me? We are an ungrateful breed. So I always try to bear in mind that nobody has forced anyone to read my stuff - especially the longer stuff, which I know is quite big by blog standards - or indeed to take the time to say that they liked it, and I remember all those equally excellent writers who don't get anywhere near as many comments as me, or got discouraged and gave up. And I count my blessings and try and do better next time.

Your last question is in some ways the easiest one. I know when I'm having an off day because I can't write, or can't finish what I've started. When that happens I walk away from the page and do something else. I try never to put anything up on my blog that I'm not proud of in some way or another and, although I have my favourites, I am happy that I've done that - however much that makes me sound like a wanker.

You can read Mr London Street's interview with me by clicking here.

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SCREENWRITING - Great Scripts Get Made

A lot of screenwriters moan about how hard it is to get discovered as screenwriters. Most of these ignore the main reason they have been failing: they've yet to write a screenplay.

So the first thing you need to do is write the screenplay. Good screenplays get read and great screenplays get sold and get made. Not many people are sitting on unnoticed genius screenplays. A great script is a great script from page one.

Producers aren't out there trying to keep you at bay. They're desperate for your material, but only if it's incredible. Even those money grabbing producers who don't care about art---- they want something well written and concise.

Why Hollywood keeps making crap we can explore in another article. But here we need to focus on the fact that people want and need great writing and we don't have enough of it. Your first screenplay could be a high concept idea or a little character piece which is exactly what an upcoming indie director is after. If your work is amazing, your project will have legs.

Don't copy anything else and don't worry that your writing is different. Diablo Cody was successful because she was Diablo Cody. You don't get successful by writing Kevin Smith style screenplays unless your name is Kevin Smith. You do it by doing it your way.

There are thousands of people making short films and viral videos and they need your talent, it's a great way to learn. Write for these people. I've found heaps of ways to put my short form writing to use. It's great practice, and those little projects help when you know your feature idea is going to take three years.

Write what you love. What excites you? What movies keep you up past bedtime? What actors do you love? Write with these things in mind. Write your passion. It doesn't mean to regurgitate 'Casablanca', it means regurgitate that feeling 'Casablanca' gave you. That's how you see, hear and feel the world -- through that feeling. It's unique to all of us. We all have a fingerprint we can leave on the film world-- we just have to turn up and do it.

Writing a feature film is hard work. You can't do it in a day and you're gonna burn out after 34 pages. But it's the same for everyone else. You have to show up for the second day and you have to get through page 35 as quick as you can.

We're gonna write screenplays that inspire people, that console people, that mean something to people. But we can only write them if we write them and they can only make them if we write them. So, write them. Write the damn scripts. If your screenplay is truly something special, it'll find a life, somehow.

Let's write.

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