First Time I Got Paid For Doing This

First Time I Got Paid For Doing This

Hardcover(1 ED)

$22.06 $24.00 Save 8% Current price is $22.06, Original price is $24. You Save 8%.

Temporarily Out of Stock Online

Eligible for FREE SHIPPING

Overview

First Time I Got Paid For Doing This by Peter Lefcourt

The First Time I Got Paid For It is an unprecedented collection of essays by over 50 leading film and television writers, edited by Laura Shapiro and Peter Lefcourt for the Writers Guild Foundation, with an introduction by screenwriting legend William Goldman. Linked by the theme of a writer's "first time"--usually the first time they got paid for their work, but sometimes veering off into other, more unconventional, "first times," these essays examine what it takes to succeed, what it takes to write well, and other aspects of maintaining creativity and integrity while striving for a career in Hollywood. Richard LaGravanese (The Fisher King, The Horse Whisperer, Living Out Loud) confesses that his first paying writing job was crafting phone sex scripts. Nicholas Kazan (Reversal of Fortune, Mathilda) explains why, in Hollywood, a verbal "yes" often turns out to be a written "no." Peter Casey writes about the unparalleled pitch meeting for the award-winning NBC series Frasier. Virtually every big name writer in Hollywood has contributed to this collection; it is essential research material for anyone trying to make it in the entertainment industry, and a perfect read for movie buffs everywhere.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781586480134
Publisher: PublicAffairs
Publication date: 11/28/2000
Edition description: 1 ED
Pages: 288
Product dimensions: 5.82(w) x 8.57(h) x 1.04(d)
Lexile: 1060L (what's this?)

About the Author

Peter Lefcourt is the author of six previous novels: Eleven Karens, The Woody, Abbreviating Ernie, Di and I, The Dreyfus Affair and The Deal. He is also an award-winning writer for film and television.
He lives in Los Angeles.

Read an Excerpt




Excerpt


Alan Alda


I was writing my first episode of Mash in a hotel room with French furniture from the Wilshire Boulevard period, and I noticed I had begun dancing around the room.

    I was in the hotel because the architect who was doing renovations on our house had promised me the work would be finished by the time I came back to town for the second season of Mash, whose first season had paid for the house in the first place.

    Renovations, like rewrites, take longer than expected, and I had made things worse by insisting that the house look like the plan we had agreed on before I left town. "I don't want that big excrescence in my living room," I had said, using the biggest word I could think of for a modernist hump on the wall the architect was proposing. Sure enough, when I got back to L.A., the house wasn't finished, but there was the hump, big as life, and just as excrescent. I took a sledgehammer to it and knocked it off the wall. This made my point, but set back construction another three weeks.

    So, here I was, working on my first serious try at a television script in the cool, contemplative solitude that can only be found in a cheesy, fake-elegant hotel. More and more, I found myself taking a sledgehammer to my own scenes and dialogue, and after a while I was dancing.

    I was dancing because, after hours of rewriting a scene, I had finally solved it and had crashed through to something I knew would work. "I can do it ...! I can do it!" I chanted, dancing and jumping for joy untilthe thought intruded that there were another few dozen problems to solve before I'd be finished.

    This was the first time since I had decided I wanted to be a writer at the age of eight that I was actually working on something that might be seen by millions of people. Every little writing victory was therefore charged with emotion.

    I've thought, since then, how lucky I was that my first script was one in which so many problems had already been solved for me. The show had been on the air for a year: I wasn't creating characters from scratch; I wasn't imagining a whole new world.

    As an actor, I had already researched the time and place. I'd read that the Korean winters were bitter and, in a series of two-handed scenes, I let a humble pair of longjohns go from one shivering body to another through a string of deals, love offerings and extortions. It was, of course, similar to a device used by Schnitzler in the film La Ronde, so even some of the plot was borrowed.

    In this way, I was able to concentrate on the pleasures of putting words together, discovering the voices of the characters, tracking the subsurface tectonics of their emotions. This made my victory dances a whole lot easier to come by than I realized at the time. Even after I had written a number of episodes and was exploring new paths, I was still making use of the work of people who had first explored the territory.

    It was something of a shock when I began working on the first feature-length script I'd try after writing for Mash. Since it would be three times longer than an episode, I assumed it would be about three times harder. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be about 27 times harder.

    Suddenly, I had to create, through research and imagination, a new world, populated by characters I had to build from their heads to their toes. I had to find out how they would act on one another in a way that would plunge them into Act Two and let them climb out through Act Three. I was all by myself on a huge construction site.

    Hemingway said that writing is architecture, not interior decoration. I was learning that, even with all the rewriting, it wasn't renovations, either.

    Now I was taking a sledgehammer to the foundation itself, redesigning it time after time, from scratch.

    After all that, when I would finally crash through to something that worked, I would feel—and every writer must feel something like this—a thrill, a rush of joy, a desire to dance around the room.

    I still feel it. And, once in a while, I still dance.


* * *


Alan Alda has written five screenplays: The Seduction of Joe Tynan, Four Seasons, Sweet Liberty, A New Life, and Betsy's Wedding. He wrote eighteen episodes of Mash, one of which, Inga, won him an Emmy for writing.

Table of Contents

Prefacexi
Forewordxv
Alan Alda1
Tina Andrews4
Steven Bochco9
Eric Bogosian12
Allan Burns16
Peter Casey20
T. S. Cook26
Cameron Crowe30
Roger Director36
Delia Ephron41
Devery Freeman44
John Furia, Jr.47
John Gay52
Larry Gelbart57
Gary David Goldberg61
Bo Goldman64
Pamela Gray67
Dean Hargrove79
James V. Hart82
Charlie Hauck88
Georgia Jeffries93
Amy Holden Jones97
Fay Kanin101
Lawrence Kasdan104
Nicholas Kazan110
Richard LaGravanese114
Peter Lefcourt118
Chuck Lorre124
Nat Mauldin129
Peter Mehlman133
Marilyn Suzanne Miller137
Daryl G. Nickens143
Gail Parent147
Daniel Petrie, Jr.151
Anna Hamilton Phelan155
Alan Plater158
Carl Reiner164
Del Reisman168
Gary Ross171
Jan Sardi177
Tom Schulman183
Melville Shavelson188
April Smith195
Ed Solomon199
Beth Sullivan207
Robin Swicord212
Miguel Tejada-Flores215
Joan Tewkesbury223
Caroline Thompson226
Peter Tolan231
Michael Tolkin236
Audrey Wells241
Richard Wesley246
Steven Zallian249

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

See All Customer Reviews