Day 12: Roadmap into the industry

Many of the writing courses in USC's master of professional writing program are presented in workshop format. Several times during the semester, each of the 12 or so students in the class complete 15 or 20 pages of a story, polish them, and make a copy for each person in the class to read. The next week the students take turns discussing and critiquing the pages, followed by the professor's assessment.

I'll always remember one of Gina Nahai's introductory lectures. She spoke about how the first scene in a novel can be likened to a stage shrouded by curtains. As the reader opens the book for the first time (or begins to read the opening sentences on a Kindle or Nook), the curtains rise to reveal the main character. The experience is wondrous, magical. Who is this person, what is their story? Gina made it seem so exciting!

Gina also discussed character, quoting a playwright's description of a little girl playing outside, she's wearing a tulle dress and is by herself spinning (or maybe she's dancing), caught up in her own thoughts and world.

I can remember at the beginning of the writing program struggling because my characters' dialogue was indistinguishable from each other. They weren't living, breathing characters. As I remember Gina's voice describing the little girl whose actions could've captivated an audience it helps make creating and writing fictional characters less paralyzing for me.

I remember an incident taken from hundreds of hours spent in writing workshops. That night we were critiquing a classmate's story. I could see the main character relaxing on the deck of a small boat, seagulls circling. The class didn't have a problem with the storyline, but our professor did. She was picturing those hundreds of thousands of books that are published each year. In her opinion, the student's work didn't stand out.

"Your character is passive," she said. "All he does is rest on the boat and watch the world go by. He needs to do something." Now, a few years later, I wonder what happened to that character. Is he still sitting on the deck of that boat watching the world go by? Does he only exist in a file on a laptop, or was he reworked, fighting battles? Would I root for him as he ends up somewhere so incredible and unexpected that as the last chapter finishes, I am saddened, wanting more?

I'm working on a short story now, and that's a lot to think about.

NOTE: These entries are inspired by the final assignment for The Business of Writing for Screen and Television, a USC School of Cinematic Arts' course taught by Frank Wuliger. Hoping to help his students become working screenwriters, he asked us to create a personal, five-year roadmap into the industry.