Picture-Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

PICTURE-PLAY WEEKLY 31 ught. He studies what can be done Ih the camera and what cannot. He all (dies the technic of telling his story km celluloid, or of visualizing his story i ih the same energy that his friend exed ifcded in learning to tell his story with oil 'j aid of printer's ink. Let us pre'ifjne, also, that in the course of time m\ succeeded. ::;i[\Tow we have two men who are able man .tell stories. One uses printer's ink. ie other uses celluloid and a screen, ine out of every ten men will insist eM the fiction writer should be able to fite scenarios, but how many will even lit that the scenario writer should be e to write fiction. Do you know y one who would ? I don't, itt seems that the answer lies in the :t that few men outside a scenario :r|partment even dream that there is Ifch a thing as technic in scenario writand that, since the scenario writer no words, all he needs is the plot, one would think of saying, howr, that the artist, because he uses stt| words, needs no technic. That :r buld be manifestly absurd. But ab-"t jlrd as it seems in the one case, it is :epted fact in the other, r Properly speaking, the scenarioist ould not be called a writer. What he jpites is not the story; it is a series i memoranda done with such close atition to detail that a producer can ;a i|ad it without the aid of an interpreter. £ does not tell his story by means of ■ )rds printed on paper any more than ies the artist. He sees a picture in his ind's eye and plans the action which the ayers are to follow so that collectively ley may tell the story on the celluloid, hd since their methods of telling their pries are so different, does it not seem ilrrsurd to suppose that the plot for the '.it is, of necessity, a good plot for the r,-;lher? As a matter of fact, there is no ore similarity between the writer of rtion and the scenarioist than there is 'ttween a newspaper reporter and a 'amatist. j No, there are many modes of expres3n, many arts, if you prefer. There e music and the dance ; there are dnting and sculpture; there is verse, ne drama, the short story, the novel, rid, last of all, there is the scenario, tnd it is quite as sensible to assume that ty other two of them are interchangeiole as to insist that the writer of fict>n can fill the place of the scenario inter, without first having studied long to master the technic of this, the youngest of the arts. NOT SO EASY. After having played the game according to rules for some time, and having gone through most of the experience known to beginners, Mrs. Julia A. Brown, a photo-playwright of Freeport, Me., has paused in her endeavors long enough to look back over what she has done and sum it all up for the benefit of other writers who are just beginning the first lap of their journey to the top. H^r article, which shows understanding of the beginners' difficulties, follows : " 'Write photo plays — devote all or spare time. Experience unnecessary. $10.00 for first play. Write for particulars.' "Such an advertisement is often seen in almost any magazine that one happens to pick up. Sounds easy, doesn't it ? The man, anxious and ambitious to earn money by the power of his brain, eagerly grasps at this opportunity not requiring experience, with the belief that it will place him in the land of fame — and, incidentally, bring the money rolling in. "What's the first step to be taken in entering this new, get-rich-quick literary field? Why, a book on 'How to Write Moving-picture Plays,' of course. Sure thing ! The haste with which the necessary cash for purchasing the open sesame is sent away, almost equals the celerity with which editors get rid of undesirable manuscripts. "The book arrives. It is read and assimilated in a very short time. Dear me! it's as easy as tumbling off a log — a child could do it. So the hopeful aspirant proceeds to tumble from the log. The jounce he receives to his conceit, self-sufficiency and pride leaves him in a thick jungle of upset ideas and blasted hopes. "The vehicle which causes the jounce is written and prepared in an incredibly short time, considering. With superb confidence in editorial human nature, the play is launched on the uncertain waters of literary recognition. Jounce No. i comes after a' month or two of "watchful waiting" in the form of a long, white, plump envelope which the receiver recognizes only too well. Rejection slip inside — regrets — return does not necessarily imply lack of merit, et cetera, et cetera. "Aspirant gets excited. The idea ! That play is as good and ten per cent better than lots of plays I've seen. Simply because I'm a new and an unknown writer, it is tossed back to me just as if it were a worthless script. Well, I'll send it away to another company that has a scenario editor who knows a good thing when he sees it. "No, wait. Don't launch it again, yet. That scenario editor had some good reason or reasons for not accepting it. Try to find out what it was. Was the synopsis written in a sufficiently interesting way to attract the editor's attention ? Was the scenario properly developed? Was the plot strong enough and original enough to hold the attention of the audience reading the picture story on the screen? Were there too many scenes, or not enough ? And ■ — important, too — was the title good and applicable to plot? "Here are a few hints in regard to writing photo plays that will apply to the expert as well as the amateur writer : "First and most important, never copy from any one. If you haven't enough originality to impart a distinct, particular style of your own to your plays, do not attempt to write. Try to give a snap to your plays. Make a practice of keeping notebook and pencil on hand for the purpose of jotting down any thoughts that may come to you which will furnish material for a play. Something may flash into your brain during your busiest moments that may make the best play you ever wrote. Get your plot or foundation before you attempt to build the literary structure. "There are three qualities essential to a really successful photo-playwright, namely, originality, a quick imagination, and a sense of humor. Do not make the mistake of thinking that it is an honor to be included in the large company of literary workers unless you are a reasonably good one. "While some writers might not approve of the plan, I think it is excellent practice to keep several plots and plays under way at the same time. Like the high-school boy who tosses up four balls in the air at the same time and finds it as easy to keep them going as one ball, so a few trials in handling several subjects at the same time will convince you that you can do it as easily as to handle one. "Do not be in too much of a hurry in sending your script away, and do not be so foolish as to feel disgruntled be