When you come down to it, there's really only one way to skin a cat.

Sure, you can scrape at it with blunt instruments or gouge and tear with your fingers until you dig to the bone. Boil it, burn it, flay it, slice it - when you get past method and complete the process, what did you really have to do?

You had to remove the cat's skin.

Most people don't know this, but I used to be an actor. Acting's a tricky business and there are thousands of ways to go about the training process. You can preach the praises of the Strasberg school, the "bubble" or method. There's improv, cue cards and fifty other ways to get words and emotions to leave your your mouth, roll around the stage, screen or dingy coffee shop accompanied by expression glances or sweeping movements.

But in the end, you had to act, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?

Okay, let's quit fucking around here and start talking about writing.

How do you write?

Do you type, and if so what margins are your pages set at? Font? Font size? Are you using Microsoft Word or Final Draft? If you're writing a comic book, how are captions denoted on your page? Do you use narrative caps to convey thoughts or balloons? Full script? Plot style? Do you even know what "plot style" is? Does any of this matter?

I read a lot of books. Many of them are about writing - and specifically, writing screenplays. I own ten good, solid scriptbooks to study and workbooks that explain everything from what the Hero's Journey is (more on this later... it's also a topic for a later column - start your research now!) to how many pages my third arc should be (You know about arcs, right? No? Should you?).

One of the books resting on the shelf next to a highlighted and dog-eared copy of Pulp Fiction is Syd Field's Screenplay. Field's put out more books about writing than Oprah has about chicken soup soul, and according to many is a guru in the field. In the introduction to Screenplay, Field claims that "when you complete this book, you will know exactly what to do to write a screenplay." He compares writing to tennis and swimming, saying that some writers "have to unlearn their writing habits, just as a tennis pro coaches someone to correct an incorrect swing, or a swimming instructor improves a swimming stroke." He goes on to give the reader tips as to how many camera angles to put in, how many to leave out, the proper form, yadda yadda. He analyzes the setup, the three-act structure and so on, saying that everyone is a writer as long as they actually sit down and write. What Syd Field basically does here is attempt to lay out a map to successful writing that will get a screenplay sold. THIS is the way most Hollywood screenplays are written, THIS is the industry standard and THIS is what script readers look for. Hundreds of wannabe writers ascribe to his teachings. Same thing with Robert McKee, author of Story, praised far and wide by top Hollywood writers and the comic book industry's one-man assembly line, Brian Michael Bendis.

According to half the writers I know, Syd Field's a bit of bullshit. So is McKee.

Writers write. Sure, they follow page counts - a comic script is 22 pages; a feature screenplay an average of 120; graphic novels build in increments of 4 - but do they use Field's methods? Do they double check every move they make with a copy of Story by their side?

Nope. They just write the way they're comfortable with writing. Writers write.

Does that make Field and McKee bullshit artists? Are they still gurus? Or are they just writers writing?

Forward. Let's get back to the Hero's Journey for a moment.

Noted mythologist and storyteller Joseph Campbell claims that every story has a specific structure entitled "The Hero's Journey" in which every hero in any story embarks on a quest - whether it be physical, emotional or psychological - and encounters challenges, obstacles, friends and foes along the way. From Campbell's The Hero With A Thousand Faces:

"The mythological hero, setting forth from his commonday hut or castle, is lured, carried away, or else voluntarily proceeds, to the threshold of adventure. There he encounters a shadow presence that guards the passage. The hero may defeat or conciliate this power and go alive into the kingdom of the dark (brother-battle, dragon-battle; offering, charm), or be slain by the opponent and descend in death (dismemberment, crucifixion). Beyond the threshold, then, the hero journeys through a world of unfamiliar yet strangely intimate forces, some of which severely threaten him (tests), some of which give magical aid (helpers). When he arrives at the nadir of the mythological round, he undergoes a supreme ordeal and gains his reward. The triumph may be represented as the hero's sexual union with the goddess-mother of the world (sacred marriage), his recognition by the father-creator (father atonement), his own divinization (apotheosis), or again--if the powers have remained unfriendly to him--his theft of the boon he came to gain (bride-theft, fire-theft); intrinsically it is an expansion of consciousness and therewith of being (illumination, transfiguration, freedom). The final work is that of the return. If the powers have blessed the hero, he now sets forth under their protection (emissary); if not, he flees and is pursued (transformation flight, obstacle flight). At the return threshold the transcendental powers must remain behind; the hero re-emerges from the kingdom of dread (return, resurrection). The boon that he brings restores the world (elixir)."

The hero faces tests and gathers helpers amid a specific story structure that includes categories like "Crossing the Threshold", "Road of Trials", "Magic Elixir" and "Refusal of Return." Campbell illustrates how Hollywood utilizes the Hero's Journey in classic films such as The Wizard of Oz and Star Wars. In Star Wars, "Crossing the Threshold" is the moment that Luke Skywalker leaves Tatooine; the "Road of Trials" is the quest to save Princess Leia; "Magic Elixir" is Luke's discovery and training in the Force; and "Refusal of Return" is the moment Han Solo decides to leave the Rebellion before the attack on the Death Star. This structure is so universally accepted that it's become the Hollywood standard for screenwriters to read it and many production companies actually make it a requirement, forcing their writers to keep their film's story structure to the Campbell blueprint.

How is this any different from Field's plug and play method? How is this "writers writing" and not "writing to template?" Does the third arc always have to begin on a specific page? Can't there be FOUR arcs? Are there movies that DON'T have a Hero's Journey? How about comic books? Can you write a good graphic novel that DOESN'T follow the Campbell structure?

Forward. Another thing to consider.

I write a specific way. Over years of studying comic book scripts, novels, graphic novels, screenplays and articles I've developed a style that, I think, is becoming unique to me. A director once commented about a play I'd written, saying that the style was quirky, clipped and tight. When writing a comic book script I tend to put a great deal into the panel descriptions, writing character emotions and backgrounds as if I was writing a novel. My structure is a bastard structure - two parts prose, one part screenplay. I write full-style, using camera angles and film references to describe the detailed visuals.

Last year, I collaborated with my friend and rising comic book writer Andrew Dabb on a mini-series entitled DUMB LUCK that we pitched around. For a bit of background, the short pitch reads as follows:

"Dumb Luck is the story of Charlie Griffin who unwittingly acquires a talisman that makes him the unluckiest man in the world. After a series of robberies and a stop in at the only Mormon bar in town, Charlie loses his job, his girl and comes THIS close to losing his life when Kenny, a deluded grad student and failed mime, sets out to control all the luck on Earth. Rescued by O'Shaun, a gorgeous leprechaun, Charlie races Kenny's Mongolian Marxist hordes to Vegas in order to track down Gordy, obnoxious wielder of the good luck talisman. With the help of the Vegas Mob and a little dumb luck, Charlie and O'Shaun manage to stop Kenny, merge the talismans and get Charlie's life back on the track to normalcy."

Andrew and I co-wrote the pitch and collaborated on the first issue of the mini-series. Basically, we passed the script back and forth, retooling each other's ideas and dialogues... and for the first time, I realized that his writing structure was VERY different from mine. The following is the way Andrew wrote Page Three of our script:

Page Three

Panel 1. A PARKING ATTENDANT stands in front of a parked SUV writing out a ticket. The car's OWNER, a bearded man in business-casual, argues in front of her. In the background stands a glass and steel skyscraper with the words "Morton Enterprises" on it in huge, gold letters.

Panel 2. The owner gestures wildly, irritated. He points a finger at his chest, the other in the air. His eyes are wide and bugged out.

Panel 3. Norbert splatters the sidewalk behind the two, both who turn toward him, shocked.

Panel 4. Close on the owner and parking attendant. Both look shaken.

Panel 5. Shot of Norbert's mangled left hand, in which is a small, pitch-black marble.

Now, here's the way I would have formatted it:

PAGE THREE (5 Panels)

PANEL ONE

Shot of a PARKING ATTENDANT in front of a parked SUV, writing a ticket. In the foreground, the car's OWNER, a bearded man in business-casual, argues in front of her. In the background is a glass and steel skyscraper with the words "Morton Enterprises" on it in huge, gold letters.

OWNER: Cah-MON! I was only in there for five freakin' minutes!

PARKING ATTENDANT: This is a loading zone, sir.

PANEL TWO

Close on the owner gesturing wildly, irritated. He points a finger at his chest, the other in the air. His eyes are wide and bugged out.

OWNER: I AM loading something! ME!

NORBERT (OP): AAAAAAAAAAHH!!!

PANEL THREE

Norbert splatters the sidewalk behind them, both turning toward him, shocked.

SFX: SPLAT

PANEL FOUR

Close on the owner and parking attendant. Both look shaken.

OWNER: Um...this means I don't get the ticket, right?

PANEL FIVE

Shot of Norbert's mangled left hand, in which is a small, pitch-black marble.

NO DIALOGUE

Now, which of us is right? Is Andrew's format superior to mine because it's cleaner, quicker and looks more like a screenplay? Or is mine better because it's more detailed, mapped and I'm handsomer? A Hero's Journey or Quentin Tarantino's flashback heavy Pulp Fiction? Novel, essay, article, poem, blog, haiku or dirty limerick? Word, Wordperfect, Final Draft, Manual typewriter or notes on cocktail napkins?

So many ways to skin a cat.

Right now, in thousands of homes around the world, thousands of people are sitting down to write something. Housewives in Alabama with visions of a great American novel, teenagers who want to write the next great Batman graphic novel and sports reporters attempting to squeeze an eighth of an inch of extra column space for their musings on last week's Knicks-Pistons game. Everyone's a writer. Everyone's got a story to tell.

And it's a tricky business, because sometimes it needs to be told in a certain way. You can't write a screenplay without "cuts." You can't write a comic book without marking the number of panels on a page. You can't write a sports column in screenplay format. Well, maybe you can. I sure as hell wouldn't mind reading that column.

But these are details. Window dressings that can be learned with trial, time and error. You can figure out how to write "Page one, Panel one." You can learn what it means to FADE IN. You can explore Campbell's Journey in The Hero With A Thousand Faces. I have a pal who writes everything in prose format - screenplays, comics, everything - and then when the story is done he formats it into a script.

Want to know how I write? I come home from work, crank Soundgarden for an hour and lock my door. I open the window so I can hear the sounds of the city , pour myself some Dr. Pepper and pull out whatever it is I'm going to write. I read over the last bit I've just written, tighten up anything I need to tighten up and then...

I write.

Story gets painted to page, words get arranged into sentences. Writers write. Programmers format.

Sure, it'll end up in a certain structure by the end of the day. Sure, when I save the final draft all the margins, panel numbers and bits of window dressing will be fixed into place. But for now I'm just focusing on getting that skin off the cat.

I'll figure out how I did it once I'm done.

-----------------------------

BIG POND is a collective column that begins with ideas and continues with opinions. Each column focuses in on my musings about writing for the comic book, film and television industry and then gives way to opinions on the week's topic by a diverse group of writers.

This week, we're joined in the pond by Andrew Dabb and Greg Thompson, both who write very different sorts of work in a very similar sort of industry. And plus, it wouldn't really be fair if Dabb didn't have a chance to rebut.

Their thoughts on this week's topic:

Andrew: "Two quick things before I respond to this column. First, if you read the idea behind Dumb Luck and the sample page provided, you're probably not too surprised that you haven't seen that series in a comic book store near you. It has...issues. The lesson here: just because something sounds cool on AIM doesn't always mean it's a great idea. Still, it was fun to write. Second, Neil is handsomer. Between the feathered hair, eyebrow waxing, and "man-scaping" he's the prettiest Xeric Grant winner ever.

"Anyhow, on to the column. Neil brings up two interesting topics this installment: formatting and structure. And while I can't disagree with his thesis (that you can write however you want, as long as the story gets written and is good), some knowledge of both (and adherence to their "rules") is necessary.

"Let's take formatting first. It's commonly said that there is no "right" way to format a comic book script and technically that's true. There is no industry standard. Yet, 90% of scripts (for Marvel, DC, Oni and so on) are written in pretty much the same way. If you look at how Neil and I script, it's really not all the different. There are a few touches here and there, the biggest being how we arrange dialogue on the page which I think comes mostly from him writing in Word and me writing in Final Draft, but the bulk of what we do is the same: we're both providing simple, straight forward panel description paired with dialogue that should underline the emotions or action the illustrator needs to get across visually.

"The reason for this is not because we've read the same books or are trying to ape the same writer's style, it's because we both work with artists. And the artists you work with will shape the way you write your scripts. Not that you should write different sorts of scripts for different artists (though some people do), but the more you work, the more you're going to realize what works and what doesn't as far as communicating your points to your collaborator.

"For example: Most artists aren't going to want to wade through pages of panel description that go into detail about the character's thoughts and emotions on discovering that the dry cleaner has shrunk his shirt. And, likewise, if you script a five page battle scene with the words "They fight in a bar" and nothing else, you're probably going to get an ink-nib jabbed through your eye. There is such a thing as too much information in a script, and not enough. So, as you write and work with different people, you're going to find out what Neil, myself and pretty much everyone else working in comics (except Alan Moore) have: that a clear, tight script is your friend and will give you the best results. Beyond that, what you underline, how you place you dialogue, etc... are cosmetic differences. They don't really matter, so just do what feels natural.

"As far as structure goes, I think Neil summed it up nicely but there is one key difference between Campbell's method and that of McKee and Field that I would like to talk about. Campbell's structure is universal and you will find yourself using even if you don't mean to, it's that ingrained in western storytelling. But it is also very broad. If you look at the myths and fables that Campbell studied, they are rarely all that linear. They get around to all the obstacles and tests eventually, but it can at times be a meandering journey full of tangents and random plot threads (just read The Odyssey and see for yourself). In contrast, McKee and Field both advocate a very linear A to B to C to D approach, neither has much patience for tangents or flights of fancy. This is mostly because Field and McKee are catering to a very specific audience: screenwriters. And in screenplays anything that doesn't serve the central plot is pretty much forbidden (unless you're working on a small budget indy production, and even then the structure is usually pretty rigid), because producers and studios tend to feel that even a five minute could derail a film, and a lot of the time they're right.

"But comics aren't movies. In a comic you can take the story in a different direction for awhile, or toss out an odd idea and not lose your audience, particularly if you're writing an ongoing series. Take for example the various one-shots that Neil Gaiman did throughout his run on Sandman. Very few of them really influenced the series' overall plot, but they were some of the most entertaining (and award winning) issues he wrote.

"I suppose my point is that while McKee and Field are useful, it's important to remember that they both have built in limitations which don't necessarily apply to comics as much as they do film or television. You can pick your spots as to when you want to use the principles they advocate. Campbell on the other hand is, I feel, is far more universal and important to stories told in our industry. It would be hard to write a good story that didn't involve some or all of the elements he talks about."

Greg: "You're doing it all WRONG!

"To me, there is no right or wrong way to write. What Campbell, McKee and Field are showing, to me, are ways that work. Tried and true methods. Not so much rules as guidelines. They're generally a good idea. Three acts, Hero's Journey or whatever you wanna call it works. It has worked, is working and will forever work. That does not mean, however, that you can't try something a little different. I do think you will find that when you boil it all down, you'll find similarities to what the 3 above mentioned authors reference in their writing.

"I own a copy of 20 Master Plots (And How to Build Them). It goes through twenty plots that always work and breaks it down for you. Three acts in each plot and it even has a checklist of what to look for in your story. An invaluable tool. But it's just that - a tool. Same as the other books Neil mentioned.

"Okay, got that covered. Now lets talk formatting! We're lucky in the fact that we work in the comics field, and, in my short career, I've found there is no right or wrong way to write a script. Just depends on what works for you. Whether it's closer to a movie script, straight prose or something in between, it's all good. There's no one concrete way of doing it. Screenplays, articles, interviews, are all more rigid structures. There's a certain way it has to be done. With comics, all you need to do is convey the story to your artist, or if you are the artist, it may only be a few notes. It can be maddening at times, but it's also extremely freeing. To think that I can go through and write this detailed script, full of subtle nuances and panel descriptions, or I can make it as bare bones as I want and leave it up to the artist. Both are fine!

"What it really all boils down to is I'm full of shit. I just write. I get an idea, start plotting, outlining or even *gasp* go straight to script with no notes. Subconsciously, my mind is taking notes on what I'm writing, and going through a checklist of beats and other miscellany that I need to hit. If I don't hit it, I can tell. It just doesn't feel right - kind of like what I've been ranting about for the last few paragraphs. In summation - I love to write. I've studied writing and have gone to school for it, but when it comes down to the actual act of writing, I'll leave the academia to the books and just tell the best damned story I can."

The column doesn't end there, though - head on over to the The Big Pond forum at the Scryptic Forums and add your opinion to the Pond! Join the collective column and talk writing with myself, this week's contributors and the rest of the Scryptic writers.

My thanks to Andrew and Greg for agreeing to jump in to the Pond this week - keep your eyes open for their respective books. They're both very funny. Not always in the way you normally think about "funny."

-----------------------------

Neil Kleid won the Xeric grant for NINETY CANDLES, an experimental graphic novella, and his first graphic novel, BROWNSVILLE, (with artist Jake Allen) debuts from NBM Publishing in 2005. A graphic designer by day, Neil harbors notions of writing full time. Weep for him.

Andrew Dabb's past credits include HAPPYDALE: DEVILS IN THE DESERT from DC/Vertigo and GHOSTBUSTERS: LEGION from 88 MPH Studios. He is currently scripting MEGACITY909 and MU for Devil's Due/Studio Ice, ATOMIKA for Speakeasy Comics, and VAISTRON for Slave Labor Graphics.

Greg Thompson, besides not making any sense at anytime whatsoever, is currently writing HERO CAMP (coming out May 18 kiddies) from Image Comics. He also has a story in WESTERN TALES OF TERROR #3. At the moment, you can find him sitting stark naked at his computer working away on one of many new ideas for graphic novels or monthlies (two of which will hopefully see light by the end of the year.) In the near future, he will go quite insane, live in a cave and force others to call him JD Salinger.