Save the Cat! Strikes Back: More Trouble For... (26 page)

And so the summer went.

At night, with the pounding sound of music and partying coming from below my office, I no longer needed to be in public to write. I was
writing
. Across the street was a movie theater, with some Spanishy-name the Santa Barbara town fathers loved — which Jim Haggin waggishly dubbed “The El Pacino” — and with every movie that came out, I was right there, studying trailers, talking to other moviegoers to find out why they went and if they enjoyed it… and why. And when Hilary called with a meeting she'd set up, I'd go rent every movie that director or producer had anything to do with, and drove down to Los Angeles for each meeting — ready to talk about any project they had, ready to do anything to figure out how I could offer service, because that's what I discovered my job was all about.

That summer I learned how to be a professional writer. I made it a job I took seriously. I focused on my goals and tried hard to look at each day as half full. And I kept at it.

People would come visit me in my white-walled suite. I had only a desk, a stand for my printer, and a couch in two big rooms. I blocked the windows so I wouldn't have distractions. And I kept at it. I figured out Hollywood goes to lunch at 1:00 and got in sync with their schedule. By fall, I was an office-hours-keeping, full-time writer bearing down on success… but still not finding it.

Then one fine morning, Hilary called and said there was a bidding war on my latest script. “Don't answer the phone!” she said mysteriously. And I held my breath. All day. And paced. At 5:30 that afternoon, Hilary called to say she'd sold my script for $300,000 against $500,000 and was really proud of me and couldn't talk just now because she was off to the Rolling Stones concert that night, but I'd have the check in two days. “Bye!”

From April to October of that crossroads year, with help from Jim Haggin, I'd figured out how to write a saleable script.

Within three years, I had co-written not only one spec screenplay with Jim that sold for a million dollars, but two.

And within four years, I was living back in Los Angeles, with a two-picture deal at Disney and an office on the lot, going into production on a movie I not only co-wrote but co-executive produced with my great, good friend, Hilary Wayne.

It was during the celebration for that sale Hilary smiled at me and said: Can you believe this is really happening?

Yes! I said out loud. But in truth, I had no idea.

For those of you who don't like “Tales of the Impossible,” I hear ya. There's nothing worse than some happy dufus with a headset standing on stage telling you the Six Keys to Success.

But that's why I'm just keeping it between you and me.

I don't have to prove anything, and neither do you, but I promised to tell you everything; I vowed up front I would take it to the max in my effort to give you every tool I've used and let you pick and choose the ones you try, when you want to try them.

My goals are not your goals, and should not be. Only you know what has been placed in your heart and what you yearn to achieve. I think one of the amazing things about this, however, is we can never ask for too much, or be surprised by who steps forward to help us achieve our goals. I don't know exactly how to say this, but the specifics of why it happens isn't any of our business. We do our part, and that's all we can do. And I totally understand that for many of you… this borders on the woo-woo. It's not my place to go much beyond here. Your mileage may vary. But in case you're
still
not a believer, try this on for size:

When I spoke at Screenwriting Expo in 2008, I titled my talk “Supercharge!” I was gathering notes for this chapter, too, and knew I'd be using that part of my life as an example, and as inspiration. I remembered keeping my diary, and that ridiculous — seemingly — first entry. I dug the orange notebook out and read through it in the nostalgic way we do, thinking about that day, that meeting, that thought that seemed so vital at the time. And then perusing further, I found an entry that startled me:

“As part of giving back for achieving my goals, I will write a book about how to write a screenplay,” I declared. “It will have the Rules of Screenwriting as I've discovered them and be called ‘
The Method: The Ultimate Screenwriter's Guide
by Blake Snyder.’ Here are things I will talk about [that I] learned…”

► Turn, Turn, Turn

► The Pope in the Pool — exposition

► Eyepatch and Limp — characters

► Dialogue — “Hi, how are you? I'm fine”

Again, let me emphasize, I hadn't sold a screenplay when I wrote those words. Yet within that entry is the beginning of what I would write about years later in
Save the Cat!
I also note that right below that entry, written as an afterthought, was this:

“Needs better title.”

No kidding.

It had been 10 years or more since I'd picked up that notebook and glanced through it, and again, I can't express the outrageousness of making the claim. And yet, seeing it now, I also know that it was the other part of the training I had received that summer. The idea of achieving the impossible, of turning something intangible into something concrete, is real.

And forever surprising.

I have a whole new set of goals on my wall now — some that shock even me. But right next to them is my second card listing:

►
Discipline

►
Focus

►
Positive Energy

Because one card without the other is just wishing.

And you never know where this stuff will take you.

Because of
Save the Cat!
I've taught all over the world. The ultimate trip, so far, was Beijing, China. By invitation of officials there, who'd read my book and were inspired by it, I was asked to lecture to the top filmmakers in the country. Along with my translator, Feng Wen, and with a lot of help from American producer Kevin Geiger, the trip was a great success.

I even have slides!

Just hanging out with my
Cats!
What an amazing ride!

I walked The Great Wall with my two books. I toasted Mr. Jing, a key figure in the Ministry of Culture who decides which 20 American films are shown in China each year (as he told me, Mr. Jing can get anyone in Hollywood on the phone any time). And I taught the principles of communication that
Cat!
is known for, and showed why the simple tools it examines apply all over the globe.

That's our world now. And that's our market.

Yet the underlying principles are the same everywhere.

Because we are human, all of us — all over the globe — are drawn to stories of transformation. And part of transformation is death. That's what this book has really been about, if you haven't guessed, that moment where we are faced with a brick wall — the death of loved ones, or the death of our old ideas — and we must embrace the new to survive… and thrive. Hitting the wall in a script is good for us because it makes us more human; any death we experience, and any failure will — that's why we must embrace it, even look for it, and always be ready to go beyond.

During a break in my lectures in Beijing, a film student asked to speak to me and told me that I'd gotten it wrong.

I had said that the “Save the Cat!” moment was about the hero doing something nice that made us like him. But in Chinese, the phrase means something else. It's not that the hero saves the cat; it's that by saving the cat, the hero gives the cat a new life. And by doing so, she told me, the hero gets a new life, too.

My hesitation to reply wasn't that I didn't understand.

It was my being amazed by where life can take us.

For me, a guy very interested in transformation, I am always looking for the death of old ideas. And I hope you are, too. Because accepting the change that we all seek — both as writers telling stories and as audiences viewing them — is the point where we can begin to create a new life, a life beyond our wildest dreams. It starts with that moment, getting the direst possible news, or failing miserably and thinking we'll never succeed, or worse, getting everything we
think
we
want and finding it's not what we wanted at all. For just around the corner from that, if we're lucky, is something remarkable, something miraculous.

And that's the transformation I wish for you.

ATTA BOY
► This is my buddy Mike Cheda's term for that little bit of encouragement every creative person needs… before we rip his or her effort to shreds. For example, “I love what you did here, and here, but…” Surprisingly controversial in that writers feel it's merely a dinner mint given us on the way to the gallows, but for me, I need a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down.

AT HOME, AT WORK, AND AT PLAY
► The world of the hero needs to be set up when we start every story. And even though not every story has these scenes exactly, it must in some form. Think about the Set-Up for Russell Crowe in
Gladiator
:
At work
, he's a great Roman General;
at home
, his wife is waiting;
at play
, the after-party of his troops’ Teutonic victory reveals the depth of friendship for him in the ranks. These “Ats” show a hero's life.

BOUNCING BALL, THE
► What do I pay attention to when I hear or read someone's story? It's the introduction of, set-up for, and changes that happen to the hero as he transforms and grows. The “bouncing ball” I'm following is not plot, but the character at your tale's center, and the changes that occur to him along the way. Keep
your
eye on the bouncing ball — that's the story.

COVERAGE
► Talent agencies, producers, and studio executives don't always read the script, but have it read or “covered” by a reader. The problem for you is… coverage travels fast. Names of scripts and grades assigned them are logged and not always kept private. Letting just one industry official read your script may mean the entire town has access to his assessment. Not to get you too paranoid, but a virgin script has power that degrades every time you hand it off to someone to read… so do so wisely.

DOUBLE BUMP
► This is my magic getter-out-of-trouble when a plot with either a lot of “pipe” or a hero who must be pushed requires a couple of nudges to move into Act Two. Normally, only one “invitation” is required at Catalyst, something done
to
the hero. But if you need a second at Break into Two, bump away!

DOUBLE DIPPING
► This is the no-no managers and their clients should avoid. It means a manager takes both a 15% manager's fee and a producer's fee for a script that he helped to set up. It's one or the other, never both. Along with the “reading fees” that some agents request to vet a script, about as despicable, double dipping will lead to pained cries of “conflict of interest”!

DRAFT AND A SET, A
► Typically this is the agent's term for a standard rewrite deal. It means you will get to write one “draft” of said script, plus a “set” of polish notes. This does not necessarily guarantee anything other than a minimum of both work and payment for it – provided you show up with a smile and do your best.

ELEMENT
► This is the project booster that can get a movie made or a script read. It can be an actor, director, financier, or special effects house — anything tacked onto a screenplay that makes it seem easier to make or pay for. An element is not always the dream it seems, as sometime other elements object.

ELEVATOR PITCH
► Be advised: There is no elevator. This is the imaginary situation where you have two to three floors, about 20 seconds, to tell your movie idea to the imaginary executive who rides in these elevators. Can you fascinate him or her — fast — without resorting to pushing the Emergency Stop?

EXTERNAL AND INTERNAL
► These are the twin skeins of action found in the Bad Guys Close In section of a script in which both external and internal pressure is applied to make our hero change — exactly what he is resisting! Having a sense of oncoming “death” in the All Is Lost moment, heroes resist both the external and internal, but cannot do so for long.