The Curse of the Blank Page

The Writer's Gripes — Part Six

There's something deeply intimidating about a blank page. It's empty. There's a little cursor blinking at you. Hardly the stuff of nightmares.

And yet, as a screenwriter, I've spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at one, wondering why the magnificent film playing in my head refuses to appear on the screen.

The problem isn't always a lack of ideas. Sometimes (often) it's having too many.

The Trouble With Being Brilliant (In Your Head)

Before you write a single word, your screenplay is perfect.

The characters are fascinating. The dialogue sparkles. The ending will have audiences discussing its brilliance for decades.

Then you type the first sentence. And suddenly it's just... words.

Ordinary words.

Not nearly as impressive as the imaginary masterpiece you've been carrying around.

So you delete them. Try again. Delete those too.

And before you know it, you've spent forty minutes perfecting a scene heading.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Or should it be evening?

Perhaps it's a dining room.

Actually, does the scene even need to happen indoors?

And there goes another twenty minutes.

Your First Draft Is Allowed to Be Rubbish

One of the most useful things I've learnt about screenwriting is that the first draft doesn't have to be good.

It just has to exist.

You can write terrible dialogue. You can introduce characters who disappear halfway through. You can discover that your carefully planned protagonist is considerably less interesting than the bloke delivering the pizzas.

That's fine. It's a first (or even a vomit) draft, not a submission to the Academy Awards. I think we sometimes forget that writing and rewriting are two different jobs. When I'm writing, I'm trying to discover the story. When I'm rewriting, I'm trying to make it work.

Attempting both simultaneously can be a wonderful way to spend an entire afternoon achieving absolutely nothing.

Just Write the Damn Scene

When I'm struggling to begin, I try to forget about writing a brilliant screenplay. Instead, I think about one scene. Something interesting happens. A character makes a decision. Somebody discovers something they weren't supposed to know. It doesn't even have to be the opening scene.

If the only part of the story I can clearly imagine is a confrontation on page 50, why not start there?

I can work out how everyone arrived at that moment later. And if I'm still struggling, I make myself a small bargain. Ten minutes. No research. No emails. No checking whether a particular model of telephone existed in 1987.

Just ten minutes of writing.

Quite often, that's enough to get things moving. Not always, obviously. Some days the blank page wins. But at least I've given it a fight.

Even the Software Can't Save You

As someone developing ICDX for INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY, I spend a lot of time thinking about how to make the writing process easier.

I want the tools to get out of the way so writers can concentrate on their stories.

But there's one thing no screenplay editor can do for me. Decide what happens next. That's still my job. And, frustrating as it can be, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Because the difficult decisions, the unexpected discoveries and the occasional moment when a character does something you hadn't planned are part of what makes screenwriting enjoyable.

Even when it drives you mad.

One Word Is Better Than None

The blank page isn't judging you. It doesn't care whether your opening scene is brilliant, terrible or somewhere in between. It's simply waiting for you to write something. And once you've written something, you've got something to work with. You can improve it. Move it. Rewrite it. Delete it entirely and start again.

But you can't rewrite a blank page.

So open your screenplay. Write the scene. Let it be imperfect. And if all else fails, make another coffee.

Just don't start researching penguins.

Different tools. Same blank page. We're all writers here.

Steve — Developer, Screenwriter and Founder of INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY