by Pat Boddy
As part of our Take a Risk workshop, fellow ISA-er Doug Larche (also busy, busy as Executive Director of the Iowa Department of Cultural Affairs) agreed to read my 67%-complete script... uhhh... and critique it. I had two thoughts simultaneously: 1) Cool. He’ll do a great job; and 2) Eeek! Scary! What if the script stinks and I get discouraged?
But I didn’t need to be scared. Discouragement doesn’t fit in here. Doug’s “critique” isn’t a nose-held-or-not system, but instead a list of open-ended questions potentially more thought-provoking, idea-inspiring, and ultimately motivational than any comments. Prior to his queries, I thought I knew what was wrong with my script—subplots not working, weak conflicts, not enough distinction between characters, little humor (and I could go on!)—but I didn’t know what to do about any of these things. Except start over. The result? 2/3 of a script and holding.
Let me give you some examples from Doug’s list of questions about my work-in-progress musical “Kindred Spirits” (the story of three female musicians wanting to play for the Pope when he visits Iowa in 1979):
• What experiences melded their instruments to their souls?
• What physical or outdoor activities might these characters be involved in that would help define them?
• What are the downsides of the good guys? The upsides of the bad guys?
• What makes these three “kindred spirits?”
These examples come from a list of about 30 questions. What is it about these questions that makes me call them inspiring, motivational, all-those-things-writers-need? The questioning technique pulls you (the critique-ee) beyond inaction right away. Why? You feel driven to answer those questions. When you can’t, you start thinking. When you can, you start writing. Both are good things to do for a script (I know that much).
I love the way this method is working for me. As a critic, I’m anxious to try and help someone else out this way. I often feel uncomfortable suggesting structural changes or character shifts. But I can always ask questions. And it will be much more likely to be interpreted as intended—as constructive, encouraging.
And as a writer, I know of at least three points in the script where I do know the answers. Time to write them down. But perhaps even more important, I tend to forget that I have a lot of thinking to do. If I’m not at a keyboard, I say I can’t “work” on my script. Now I have several thinking “assignments.” Not that thinking will be easy, but it will be doable, unlike the daunting concept of starting over.
In short, 2/3 of a script and moving.