A common problem discussed by many professional writers, as well as first-timers, is "writer’s block." Apparently, they define this as getting stuck at a certain point in the story. Associated phenomena include headaches, nervous stomach, and various forms of anxiety, insomnia or lethargy. These "stuck points" are often marked by nagging doubts about what’s been written so far, endless rewrites of the last scene and, ultimately, questions about whether the whole project should be shelved.

Because I’ve frequently worked with and interviewed writers who don’t experience these blocks, it might be interesting to list some of their successful techniques.

1. Don’t look back. Francis Ford Coppola told us that when he takes on a large, complex project, he starts on page one and keeps writing. He never looks back and rewrites a scene or act until he’s done with the entire first draft. He said, "How do I know my characters fully unless I’ve seen what they go through and how their situations are resolved? Once I’ve learned that, I can go back to page one and rewrite the entire script, informed by knowing in advance the eventual outcome."

Coppola also has an interesting tip on what to do when you’re uncertain of what the next scene should be. He offered, "Put a line in the script, like ‘Need a scene here.’ Then go onto the next moment. If still no clue, put another, ‘Need a scene here.’ Keep going until you sense, ‘By now, they ought to be in bed, so now I’ll write a bedroom scene.’ By the time you get through the bedroom scene, you may know what would have to have happened just before it in order to get them in bed. So, the second time through, you can fill that in."

2. Emotion first, encoding second. Many excellent writers of dialogue do not try to get it exactly right in the first draft. They have to get to know their characters a little better before they know exactly how they’d talk in a given scene or situation. Then, when they’ve finished the first draft and understand their subjects better, they go back to the beginning and evolve a specific dialogue style for each person. That’s called the "encoding" process.

So, on the first pass through your script, it’s okay to simply write down what characters are thinking and feeling. By the second pass, you’ll be familiar with how each responds and can better shape individual dialogue patterns.

3. Don’t be a slave to structure. Aristotle and his successors prescribed an exact form for drama, but there are countless successful examples, proving each film can be judged unto itself before it is judged according to pre-set standards. (Take a look at The Fugitive, where the entire film could be considered Act 2, or Smoke, which is a series of vignettes, or Swingers, which is almost all Act 1.)

In spite of the fact that some readers of your work may take you to task for not having three acts, or for having your "plot points" in the wrong place, others may recognize that a different form may be more appropriate for your specific vision.

For this reason, some writers do not write in linear sequence. For example, the most prolific writer I know (averaging three original screenplays per year for the past 15 years) doesn’t even write one story at a time. He writes any scene that pops into his head and throws it into a box marked Act 1, Act 2 or Act 3, based on which act he thinks the scene would best fit (Act 1=presentation of characters and basic situation; Act 2=something changes; Act 3=something is resolved). Then, when all the boxes are full enough to constitute a movie, he pulls out all the pages, finds the "through-line" that could unite them, and finishes a draft.

Another prolific screenwriter I know has a different set of boxes on the floor. His are labeled by genre: comedy, action-adventure, romance, etc. Each day that he writes a scene, he throws it in the most appropriate box. When one of the boxes gets full, he pulls out the scenes and finds a way to tie them together. He’s told me that about 80 percent of the pages usually do fit well enough to constitute a story!

4. Using "back stories." Several of my writing associates, when they become stuck for more than one writing session, recognize this can only be if they don’t know their characters well enough. So they’ll sit and write biographies of their main characters, concentrating on what the people did in their lives before the movie started. By the time they’ve finished, they can come up to present time and figure out exactly what the character would do next.

Of course, many writers write back stories before they start the script. But the back story can serve as a log-jam buster, too.

5. Discipline. The most common denominator among successful writers is that they are highly disciplined. They have an invariable "writing time" every day or every week. They never wait for inspiration. They treat it as "a job of work" (to paraphrase John Ford speaking about directing Westerns). They believe that in exchange for the luxury of working at home, they owe it to themselves to "show up" every day—whether or not they feel like it.

One author I know gets up at 6 a.m. each morning, six days a week, has a coffee, lights a cigar, and sits at his desk until 10 a.m. At 10 a.m. sharp, he ends his writing for the day and lives a regular life. (He’s a salesman for a multi-level marketing company to ensure there’s always some cash coming in.) He then doesn’t return to writing ’til 6 a.m. the next morning—even when he gets an idea. He is willing to jot down a note during the rest of the day, but he never "sits down to write," except at his agreed-upon time. He told me, "If I waited for inspiration, I’d never write, or I’d write so irregularly that I’d never finish anything. Or, if I were on a major hot streak, then I would sit at the typewriter all day and not do my sales. Money would run out—and I’d have to leave the script to go back to normal work and then really lose the spark."

Another writer I know keeps a mountain cabin about an hour from the city where he lives. He goes there every Friday night and returns Monday morning in time for his regular job. He’s so excited to get there that he writes all weekend, stopping only to eat, take short walks, and get a bit of sleep. He considers this writing time to be sacred and allows nothing to stand in its way.

A woman I’ve worked with started a writing club which meets every other week. Members report on how many pages they’ve written of their current scripts. If they don’t meet their quota (set by themselves, but announced each meeting to the group) for two sessions in a row, they can’t come back to the club until they’ve caught up. By the way, the support group, by policy, makes no creative evaluations of each other’s work. They only set and announce targets.

Another writer told me that he puts in his writing time even when he feels empty or drained. He has many times spent his whole two to three hours sitting in front of the word processor and not writing a single word. But at the end of the daily time, he gets up and leaves and considers that he has worked that day. He tells me that he knows if he does it enough days in a row, the words eventually start coming and they pour out of him.

I hope you can see that the process of writing begins with the decision to write, and the recognition that writing is a form of work—creative and playful as it may be. There is no one way to do it. The writers I mentioned never get "writer’s block."

A footnote: I recommend you do not show your pages to anyone until you have a completed first draft. An off-base comment can throw even the best writer into a spin. Have the strength of your convictions and your desire to tell stories. If you’re interested in the tale, others will be, too. MM

For information about Eric Sherman’s production and consulting services, check out his website at www.ericsherman.com.