Here it is, August 20. That’s about twenty days after the deadline I’d set for myself to choose a textbook for WR263: Advanced Screenwriting (which will debut spring term). If you haven’t already guessed, that deadline has come and gone without me finding something suitable.
Picking a textbook is always an arduous process. We’re asking students to shell out good money for a book, and we want to make sure that they’re actually getting their money’s worth. Ideally, a textbook for a creative writing class is something the student would want to keep, something they can continue referring back to even after they’ve left the class… or after they’ve left the college.
I couldn’t be happier with the textbooks I use in Intro Fiction (Schoen’s The Truth About Fiction) and Intro Screenwriting (Schwartz’s How to Write: A Screenplay). They’re clear, they’re direct, and most importantly, they have a healthy sense of humor about the whole thing. Sure, Schwartz’s book gets ridiculously cheesy at points, but both of those authors sincerely believe that the creative writing process is a lot of fun and worth the effort.
Now, in second-term creative writing courses (we call them “advanced” here at Chemeketa, but that word should really be reserved for upper-division university courses), I’d like to use a book that delves a little deeper and presents a more sophisticated analysis of the process. Why do we make the choices we make when we’re writing, and how can we figure out if there are paths out there we’re not following? How can we know that each component of a story is working to serve the greater purpose of the narrative?
Basically, I want a book that presents a few interesting ideas that we can mull over for ten weeks. Whether we end up agreeing or disagreeing, in thinking about those ideas we’ll be able to learn a little bit more about the way each of us writes. And that’s my primary goal in a creative writing class.
Unfortunately, the problem with most screenwriting books out there is that they present maybe one interesting idea, and then they charge you $30 for that one idea plus 200 pages of filler. Then there are those select few screenwriting books written by people who wish they weren’t hacks, filled with rambling intellectual justifications of their chosen field drawn from the past three decades of literary critical thinking. Those books are filled with ideas that might be worthwhile to discuss… if you could get past the massively pretentious egotism of the author’s writing style.
There’s only room for one pretentious egotist around here, and I’m already filling that bill. Too bad, Robert McKee.
Speaking of Robert McKee, if you want to read more about him, I’d suggest starting here. It’s the best thing I’ve ever read about him. It helps that I don’t read Spanish.
Naw, I’m giving him too hard a time. His book is actually one of the better ones I’ve read. But it’s not $35 good.
So the search continues. I just started Writing Short Films by Linda Cowgill, which looks promising and comes highly recommended… so keep your fingers crossed for me.
