Sometimes screenwriters consider converting a screenplay into a novel, but traditionally, this process has been difficult. Mastering one medium is hard enough. Mastering two is superhuman. Unlike screenplays, novels give far more weight to characters' history and inner life. Unlike screenplays, the quality of a novel is often determined by the writer's stylistic and inventive use of language. Novels tend to be vastly more complex, and often require ten or more hours of reading, while a screenplay can be read in under two. Furthermore, the publishing world has historically been difficult to break into. Getting a book published was not necessarily any easier than getting a movie made.
However, with the advent of micro-publishers and e-readers, this may all change. What if, by spending a week or two changing formats, a screenwriter could "direct the movie in his/her head" and put it in novel form? Would movie fans like zipping through a book in two hours that gave them the experience of being in a theater watching the finished film? Would movie executives and producers prefer to read spec scripts in novel format? Could screenwriters use the medium to build a fan base online, making their story more attractive to studios?How right he is! In adapting +Talking With Dog into a novella, I found the hardest mountain to climb, was explaining the difference between film time, and, well, novel time! Seated in a cinema, a film can involve a character's journey that can well last a year or more. It does so because it has access to visual interpretations -- seasons, dialogue, make-up etc, etc,. In the adaptation, those time jumps need to be explained, need to be written! Winter cannot just be a word in a novel as it can be in a screenplay. It has to be described. So here I discovered the quick-sand; description was killing the pace of the original story...or was it? It became a balancing act between pace and avoiding a mish-mash of chapters. The process is an interesting one :- I think if I learnt anything, it was not to cheat your reader; don't expect your reader "seeing" your story. He needs to be feeling and seeing it in words. So, words equal camera.
For what it is worth, here's an example:
EXT-THE CANYON-DAY:
OUR ANGLE is someone's POV -- through a gap in the boulders and able to SEE --
JOE bent over the skull, DOG stoic in the heat. Suddenly JOE'S back muscles tense, as if given an electric shock.
His hands over the skull. Every sinew at work. His eyes somehow soft, searching -- a rotation of his body, a sudden intake of air. A tremble in the fingers, close to the skull. Jaws tight around the leather strip.
Then wham! JOE is abruptly flung backwards, as if kicked by a mule -- physically pushed backwards. He falls back, his head slamming into the hard ground.
...and in the adaptation:
You are able, through the gap between the two boulders, to see
the man who is hunched over what you mistakenly think is a pile of garbage, of
plastic. Out of the corner of your eye you take notice of the size of the bird
that sits as stoic as a statue.
You see the naked back of the man. His shoulders are broad and
glisten with sweat. You inhale quickly as you see the muscles on the man’s back
tense and ripple. You hold your breath as those same muscles remain taut. Your
reaction is alien to you and you are confused by it.
You shift your position silently for a better view. Now you see
that his hands are hovering over what you think is garbage, plastic. Every
sinew in the man seems to be working. He rotates his body and his chest
suddenly expands with a breath of air or is it shock? That thing between his teeth
– he is gnawing on it, his jawbones set rigid.
You are trying to hold your own breath.
There is a tremble to his hovering fingers.
You exhale and ‘yelp’ simultaneously as the man is suddenly
thrown backwards as if kicked by an invisible horse, a something. You clutch
your mouth to stiffen any further noise as the man is slammed against the
ground.
Look forward to your comments!
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