Adventures in the Screen Trade

by William Goldman

Because of his “Save all day” warning, I bought a notebook. (Never enter a creative meeting without a notebook.) And I opened it and took out a pen and got ready to face the firing squad. I said, though I didn’t know it, the magic words. “Tell me everything you have in mind,” I said, and I took the top off the pen and prepared to write. I didn’t know it then, either, but the meeting was over. Because suddenly, he was unarmed and I had this weapon with dread stopping power: my notebook. I was going to take down everything. All his wisdom. Record it then and there. And, like most producers and executives, he had nothing specific to say. They are generally not equipped to deal with the intricacies of a script—any more than I could deal with the problems they face. What he offered was something like this: “I think we have to watch out in case there are any sags,” he said. I repeated “Watch sags” and wrote the words. “Gotta keep the pace up.” “Pace mustn’t flag,” I said, and wrote that down. “And our main guy has gotta always be sympathetic.” “Sympathy for hero.” By then our coffee had arrived, we poured and sipped and then we were into bullshitting about this and that. I was gone in half an hour. I have followed this procedure in every creative meeting since. If you begin, they can counterpunch. Try never to give them the chance.