Scriptwriter, entrepreneur, philosopher, rocket scientist...what's not to like?
A few weeks ago, I woke in the night with excruciating neck pain. Rather selflessly, I ignored it and pushed on through, much in the spirit of Nelson, keeping my head pointed slightly to my good side and ignoring the baffled looks of those I met. It is only an eye, or an arm, or, indeed, a neck. However, three weeks of almost unrelenting stiff-necked-ness has driven me to the doctor to get it looked at properly, just in case it isn’t a simple crick or a spasmodic muscle or something, and I am almost immediately reminded of why I stopped coming to the doctor for any ailment, let alone something serious. Doctor's waiting rooms are, quite literally, hell on Earth.
I see that both MI5 (Domestic Terrorism) and MI6 (Overseas Operations) are openly advertising for new recruits via the internet and broadsheet newspapers, in a break from the tradition of selecting their new intake from public schools and top universities. I guess that it had to happen; if you keep plumbing the depths of only certain institutions, you eventually get to the dregs, and who really wants our security safeguarded by second-raters?
I have a new job writing about conspiracy theories… Or, do I? Maybe it’s actually that I have been selected to do it by The Illuminati, that well-known international group of world domineers, who want to get me off the scene in case I ask too many awkward questions. Perhaps the job was put up only on my version of the freelance website that I use—it must be pretty easy to do, with known IP addresses—so that I pick it up and not look too closely at the fact that the world is owned by The Illuminati! Perhaps I’m just paranoid.
As a recap, last time we looked at an overview of scriptwriting, and started to look at the basic elements of the script. We stated that a script is quite different from any other form of writing and it's a tool that only lays out the bare bones of a production.
Okay, we now have a log line, and we are ready to start getting actual words down on paper (metaphorically) and craft our script. We haven’t started on our overview yet, because this will grow as our story develops.
Wow, here we are at post four in my ongoing analysis of what makes a good script, ahead of attending LSF 2020. This time we are going to look at not only what makes a good love element, but also why we even need a love element in the first place.
Way back in post one of this series—we’re on post three now, if you’ve lost count—I said that my end goal was to take at least one, though currently considering one full-length feature film, and two TV series, to the London Scriptwriters Festival (LSF) next April. To be able to do that, I need a full script, but more importantly at this stage, I need a log line and a fully-fledged pitch. Those two must be absolutely perfect, even if the script itself is a bit raggedy.
Just look around any restaurant, or even street food area, and witness the number of people taking a snap of their recently-arrived food. The growth of decent cameras on phones has turned everyone into photographers, and social media has given them a platform to show them on.