Part I of II
By Pat Boddy
Leave your ego home. Better yet, bury it. Collaboration won’t work if you think you’re right, smart, or even the one with the lesser-of-evils idea. Collaboration humbles. It also works. I’ll be so bold as to define “works.” Collaboration works because it leads to a better script than you probably would have had alone.
Now for me, Miss I’ve-finished-a-script-and-yes-hell’s-frozen, getting a better product coupled vs. going solo damns the collaborative process with faint praise. But for Pardner Dave—well, he’s downright prolific. And successful by any standard—both appreciated and produced. Yet Dave’s as convinced as I that synergism results from a rich collaboration.
We think we found a sweet process – lucked onto it, we know. But I thought I’d share how that process unfolded from my perspective, in case it helps you. And if my point-of-view proves a tad skewed, Dave promises a “Pat-you-ignorant-slut” rebuttal next issue. (Not that he won’t be reading this ahead of time to do a little collaborative tweaking. He’d better).
Step 1. The Idea.
Not knowing what we’re doing, we each come to our first coffee armed with a few basic concepts. We knew it’s in a barn and it’s s’posed to be short and small-cast. With those parameters, we shared ideas. Then we improved out loud on a couple from each of our lists. She could do this. He could do that. It would really be about . . . yada yada yada. We kept jammin’ ‘til it became obvious which script concept had put the most ideas in our heads. That’s where we’d focus.
Step 2. The Characters.
The idea talk generated the sketchiest of characters. We needed to flesh them out in greater detail before much writing could begin. One of us (as might well be the case with most solid pairings, I don’t remember who) did one-pagers on the characters.
Step 3. The Plot.
It thickened for us in post-character description talks. We were about to start writing without necessarily a clear sense of purpose, but we didn’t want to bog each other down. One would start writing the beginning. The other, the middle. We went off independently and took a shot at this shot-in-the-dark approach.
Step 4. The Dialogue.
Since we had the characters as our guide, the voice for our characters – even though originally written separately, and in separate sections— flowed better than you might imagine. We sat down together after having reviewed what each had written. We took parts of Dave’s stuff, and parts of mine. We refused to even think about sacred cows. The ending was starting to take shape. One of us took a shot at it. The other polished it. Most of the plot had emerged, much of the dialogue. The thing was oh-so-rough but more there than not.
Step 5. The Give-and-Take.
The script went back and forth for some time. Dave would work on it. Then I. He wanted explosives (he now says—though I remember more specifically pyrotechnics). I wanted cats (he says, though I remember mostly kittens). Finally, the give-and-take had to occur in person for a long time. I went to his place. We went back and forth on several issues. Took several false stabs at changes. That version had limited fireworks and only a couple of kittens. (If you saw the final play, you’ll know it had neither. Such is the way with good collaborations).
Step 6. The Third-to-Last Shaping So Far.
We did some more work back-and-forth via email, but the bones were in place. At some point, we ran out of time and Dave made copies and dropped it off to be read for possible production.
Step 7. The Critics.
The ISA reading. This is where the collaborative process can really help. We were well-versed in hearing our work critiqued. We’d been doing it for each other all along. It was easy to hear the excellent critical remarks from ISA members. It wasn’t always easy to figure out how to fix what they were pointing out, but we were committed to trying. We had long ago buried those egos, remember? We knew we had to overhaul the last third of the script, at least. We did. After a good long talk about how we might go about the changes, we proceeded with the same back-and-forth email process we’d been using all along. Again, the first rehearsal deadline dictated the end of this phase. This Second-to-Last Version So Far is what played during In the Barn.
Step 8. Where We Go From Here.
Thanks to some excellent performances, a wonderful director, and more cogent comments from fellow ISA-ers, Dave and I will soon be back to the drafting table for a line-by-line reworking. I know this: No matter what, we’ll have no cats. I wonder if he might be right about the pyrotechnics. We’ll discuss and see.
We think our collaboration was a success. That doesn’t mean we think we wrote even a good play. (See Step 8—we know we have LOTS of work yet to do). But we worked hard. Together. We chewed each other’s stuff up (and our own) and spit it out. We built the case for things we loved, but stayed open and took them out when the case against them was stronger. Our friendship only strengthened in the process. We continue to work together on this piece, we’ve started on a second collaboration, and we have plans for more. We consider this “success.” We hope you’ll try collaboration. You, too, may find it a motivator to get something accomplished (as I did—Dave didn’t need that help as bad), a great way to learn, and—in the end—one of the best ways to get a good script.