I’m writing a screenplay, and a musical, and what that means besides a whole lot of hair pulling and teeth gnashing is: I have to be able to tell a compelling story in a little over a hundred pages (depending who you talk to) and write dialogue. Lots and lots of snappy dialogue.
Hopefully, I can raise my game and it will be much smarter and funnier than anything I could ever hope to say.
Every day I re-read the pages and ask myself (or the character) How can we say that better?
When you do enough homework on your characters (one year and a half of character development for the play), you can put them in almost any situation and they’ll write the dialogue for themselves while you sit back and take dictation. If I get stuck I’m too much in my head, over thinking things, and I need a chocolate break.
How can we say that better?
Sarcasm is too easy. Irony is sarcasm’s older, smarter brother.
A well-articulated fight scene is better than a simple Fuck you!
Fuck you is too easy. It’s lazy.
When two characters are able to state their respective points of view in a witty and entertaining way, well, jackpot!
If they stoop to hurling witless insults it bores me, and the next day it won’t make the cut.
Again, it’s pedestrian writing. Much too uninspired.
I’ve started to translate this way of thinking to my personal life. I can’t tell you how many times a DAY I demand from myself:
How can you say that better?
Am I mad; or sad? What’s my motivation here? Do I have a compelling argument or do I just need to eat? Will I lob a Fuck You or will I say what I mean?—You hurt my feelings!
The reason I bring this up is that I’m extremely disappointed in the G.O.P. Even more so than usual.
What’s with the huge public support of Donald Trump and why are they backing him by having him at the debate tonight? He’ll bring to the debate what Mike Tyson brought to the Evander Holyfield fight. If he feels outmatched, he’ll get frustrated and make the easy choice—he’ll fight dirty. He’s the verbal equivalent of an ear biter. And he’s incredibly mean-spirited.
He has elevated public humiliation and mean spiritedness to a spectator sport. People are going to tune in just to see who he will verbally eviscerate, and I for one am disgusted. Do we want a bully for President of the United States?
Does he have a platform? Can he form an argument that doesn’t insult my intelligence? Can he actually debate? My nineteen year old nephew could craft a better argument than what I’ve heard from him so far.
In our school debates we would be disqualified if we leveled verbal “low blows” disguised as insults.
We had to know our shit, We had to have done our homework. No ear biting. Mean was not allowed—too easy. You’d look foolish and lazy if you showed up unprepared.
As I’ve watched him spew his vitriol, insulting a war veteran and an entire race of people, just to name a few, I’ve wanted to scream at the television.
Donald! How can you say that better?
Do your homework! Stop being so lazy! Stop acting so banal!
You don’t think McCain’s a war hero? Tell me about your deferments!
You want tighter immigration restrictions? Lay out a better plan than having Mexicans build a wall.
Insults should get you disqualified.
Mean spiritedness shouldn’t get laughs. Really people? Humor is smart. Insults are not.
Tonight, Donald Trump will take the place of, and steal the spotlight from, another candidate who is articulate and better qualified. Right? I mean, I’m as disenchanted as I am I’m certain that man exists.
The stakes are high you guys. This isn’t his reality show boardroom—it’s a run for the Oval Office.
Will Trump become the Presidential nominee for the Republican Party? Stay tuned to this developing plot in his latest reality fiasco.
And as sick as that possibility makes me, as a Democrat, I hope so.
Carry on,
xox
