One of the biggest struggles I’ve experienced so far as a screenwriter is switching off to Inner Critic in the middle of a draft.
Self-awareness is essential, along with a healthy level of honest criticism. It’s the only way to produce good pages. And to completely succumb to the ‘Wild Man’ side of our creative brain – the side that is pure, unbridled creation – is both messy and directionless, and better suited for freewriting, morning pages or brainstorming an idea.
But when you’re drafting, Inner Critic is a nasty piece of work.
You know the guy, right? He’s the one who constantly berates your every clack of the keyboard, who spits on your characterization and drags your dialogue through the mud. He’s the one who tells you you’re no good, why do this, just give it all up now and save yourself years of graft and inevitable embarrassment – or, at the very least, burn everything you’ve ever written to date and start again because it’s all a big steaming pile of Tom Tit.
Yeah. That guy.
Well, for the past few months I’ve been grinding out redrafts of a feature script I’m writing with fellow System Street colleague Ian Smyth. It’s called No Hidden Extras, and it’s based on a short film of the same name we shot back in November, which is currently in postproduction.
It’s a story that Ian and I truly believe in, and we think it has the potential to be made into a solid film one day – when the script is in good enough shape. The story is there, and we know the main arcs and events…it’s just the simple matter of articulating them in the best way possible. (Yeah, ‘simple’…)
Inner Critic, though, seems to have other plans from time to time.
I know that the drafting process, by definition, requires the work to be re-worked until it’s as close to right as my abilities allow. I know that each draft is only a snapshot of how the story is devleoping at that particular stage. And I know that endlessly going over the same scene or sequence because it’s not perfect is one way to ensure that a draft will never see the words FADE OUT.
And yet, thar he blows.
Inner Critic, in its most severe and stultifying manifestation, is one of the great mysteries of the creative process. Creative people want – nay, need – to create. And creation without completion is nothing more than a soundless scream. It is a flaw of the mental processes involved, then, that we can find ourselves prevented from completion by something that seems so entwined with our creative desires. Wild Man and Inner Critic; Yin and Yang; Joker and Batman.
You complete me.
I have gotten over the wrath of Inner Critic several times already, having written a few short- and feature-length scripts so far. But my experience is not yet enough to have banished him totally from my working practice. Who’s to say he will ever really be gone?
I often say (only half-jokingly) that I can’t speak about a project too loudly, just in case the noise scares away my shy little muse. Maybe if I keep talking about Inner Critic, if I shout his name and shame him to anyone who will listen, he will go forth and be gone – at least for the time being.
If he does, I’m sure he’ll be back.