I think this is part of its charm.
Diablo Cody on Screenwriting. (The Commonplace book Project)

The Commonplace Book Project is a daily post based on Ray Bradbury’s advice to aspiring writers: read a poem, a short story, and an essay every day for 1000 days. These posts start with a quote and go wherever the rabbit hole leads. Follow The 1000 Day MFA publication so you don’t miss a thing.
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“The fact is, when I wrote Juno — and I think this is part of its charm and appeal — I didn’t know how to write a movie.” — Diablo Cody, Writer’s Digest
I’ve been writing these Commonplace Book Project posts for six weeks or so, and I keep finding myself drawn to screenwriters. This morning I was feeling sorry for myself — like, why can’t that be me?
Seriously, I was getting all inwardly whiny and everything. It wasn’t pretty.
And then I remembered.
Oh, yeah.
I’ve never written a screenplay. I don’t even know how to write a screenplay. I only have a vague idea of what a screenplay looks like.
So, yeah. There might be many reasons why I’m not a successful screenwriter, but the number one biggest reason is that I’m not actually writing them. I haven’t done the work to learn how. I haven’t sought out a screenwriting community to learn from.
Turns out that just thinking about how cool it would be to write movies or television and how unfair it is that I’m not the one who wrote Juno or The Shape of Water or Sons of Anarch doesn’t actually build a career.
I don’t even know if I really want to be a screenwriter. I’m pretty happy being a novel writer. I’ve always thought I was maybe not visual enough for it. I’m really not visual at all. I don’t even dream in pictures.
But I think I’d like to at least learn how to write a screenplay. I’m good with dialogue. That might be enough to at least try.
I’m reading William Goldman’s Adventures in the Screen Trade right now. It’s incredible. Read it, even if you don’t want to be a screenwriter.

Here’s an interview with Diablo Cody in Writer’s Digest.
I had gone to the bookstore, and while I hadn’t bought any books on how to write a screenplay, I’d bought a couple of scripts so I could see how the formatting works. I just needed to know how a Hollywood screenplay looked on the page, which was something I was totally unfamiliar with. I had American Beauty and Ghost World, and interestingly enough, the producers of Ghost World wound up producing Juno.
My now-ex-husband convinced me to use our last $200 to buy Final Draft, so I just sat down and started writing a movie. It’s that simple.
Goldman suggests reading scripts as well. So I decided to order a couple. I went with Juno, because I figure if she used scripts to learn how to write it, reading it should help me, right?

And since William Goldman is my patron writer for 2019, I bought a book of four of his screenplays, including Marathon Man, Princess Bride, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and Misery.

Also, I signed up for a year of MasterClass. I figure if I want to learn about screenwriting, I could do worse than taking an intro class from Shonda Rhimes, right? Plus there are classes by Neil Gaiman and Judy Blume.
I’m sure I’ll be writing more about how that goes. (If you want to join me and you use this link, you’ll get 3 months added to your year.)
Diablo Cody wrote the stageplay for Jagged Little Pill — a musical based on Alanis Morrisette’s music. And you know, I did just move a day trip away from Broadway.
Cody’s trilogy of movies — Juno, Young Adult, and Tully — make an amazing weekend binge. I love Juno and Young Adult, but Tully was one of my favorite movies of 2018 and is absolutely amazing. There’s a scene where the main character compares her husband to the bench on the carousel that is just . . . I don’t know. So good.
Cody also wrote the Showtime series The United States of Tara. It stars Toni Collette as a suburban mom with multiple personalities.

Today’s Poem:
The Print the Whales Make by Marjorie Saiser
You and I on the boat notice the print the whales leave, the huge ring their diving draws for a time on the surface. Is it like that when we lose one another? Don’t know, can’t. But I want to believe when we can no longer walk across a room for a hug, can no longer step into the arms of the other, there will be this: some trace that stays while the great body remains below out of sight, dark mammoth shadow flick of flipper body of delight diving deep.
