I’ve writen 30 pages of ‘Kapital‘ today, taking me up to 90 in total.
Judging by the board, I’ve still got at least another 30 pages to go, which means I’m going to have to prune considerably before Wednesday’s deadline. 120 pages isn’t too long for this kind of script, but it feels long to me. I’ll be happier with 110.
At the moment, the structure feels out of whack. I think I’m taking too long to set things up, but I won’t find out until I re-read it.
No idea when I’ll do that.
I’m also fairly confident that this draft will be way too expensive, but this is the ‘dream’ draft. The next one will be more realistic, once I’ve managed to talk things over with the director and explain the cheap versions of the scenes.
Today was a new writing first for me. I killed a character because his name was annoying me.
No, that sounds bad. He has the same name as a friend of mine – that’s how lazy I am.
The name itself doesn’t annoy me, the problem is: the main character is called K (easy to type. Told you I was lazy), which is fine until you have any other characters whose name starts with the same letter, like Ken’s does. Then Final Draft won’t let you choose ‘K’ as a character name and always greys in ‘KEN’.
At first it wasn’t a problem. The character was only in one scene, I needed an Irish name, I have an Irish friend called Ken – that’ll do. No one speaks his name, the only reason he’s not called ‘IRISH THUG #1’ is because producers often tell me actors complain about numbered thugs because they like to have a name for their CV.
By the way, the real Ken is just Irish, not a thug. He’s a very nice chap.
After Ken spoke, I deleted his name from the smart type list and tapped on my merry way.
The problem comes when Ken keeps on reappearing. The fucker just seems to be everywhere, I can’t get rid of the bastard (character Ken, not the real one. I can’t even keep in touch with the real Ken).
Kill the fucker.
So I have. Ken’s dead now. I killed him.
(Character Ken, the real one isn’t dead. At least I hope not, I haven’t spoken to him for a while.)
Some of you may have just taken the easy option and renamed Ken something else (character Ken, not … you get the idea); but I say you guys are just quitters. I wrote myself into this bind, I’ll write my way out.
And I have.
Ken got shot.
He deserved it, too.
For fuck’s sake, I’m rubbish at keeping secrets. I wish people wouldn’t tell me them.
Did I mention a friend asked if I wanted to write for a new BBC sketch show?
Oh wait, was that a secret too?
Oh, too late. He did. And I do.
As I’m writing ‘Kapital’ with one hand, I’m jotting down notes for sketches with the other.
I won’t tell you what I’m using to answer the phone.
The plan is to finish the script tomorrow. Edit it in the space between seconds. Deliver it by hand to the director on Wednesday, whilst attending a screening of his last film. Thursday I’ll knock out a dozen sketches and Friday I’ve got to write a treatment for a proposed feature.
Well, I don’t have to; but they’re threatening to pay me, so I want to. I pitched my idea to the producer and he called me some very nice names.
Well, one nice name.
To be fair, he called the idea the nice name, I’m just claiming that as a victory. You’ve got to take them where you can.
Right, that’s enough of this blogging malarky. Back to work.
Oh fuck, I’ve gone blind.