Movie Reviews for Writers: The Norliss Tapes

I can't believe I only recently discovered this flick. 

Considering just how big a Kolchak the Night Stalker fan I am, you'd think I would have seen it way earlier. 

Oh well. 

Coming into this movie, all I knew was that it was very similar to both the Kolchak movies and the series, and that it was produced by the same guy (Dan Curtis, also of Dark Shadows fame).

David Norliss is a writer working on a book debunking supernatural events. It's a book he pitched to his publisher. It's a book he has been paid a large advance for. Only, after almost a year, not a word is written.

Sanford: Hello, David. Been a while. How's the book coming?

Norliss: Sanford, I've gotta talk to you.

Sanford: I know, you're gonna tell me it's only half-written, and we're gonna have to delay our-

Norliss: Half-written, hell. I don't have a word on paper.

Sanford: It's been almost a year.

Norliss: I know how long it's been, Sanford. But I, uh... I can't write it. I'm afraid to write it. You're not making sense.

Sanford: We gave you a sizeable advance to write a book debunking the supernatural, which was your idea not ours. And now you tell me, a year later, you haven't even started it.

Now, before you chalk David's problem up to what is typically called Writer's Block, it's not that. It's much deeper. He's not distracted. He's not "blocked." He's terrified. 

And the truth is -- he's done the work. Every word of the book has been dictated, just not written. 

Norliss: I'm into the book. Deep into it.

Sanford: But, uh...

Norliss: It's on...On tapes. A series of tapes.

Herein lies the central conceit of the movie (and the proposed but not picked up TV series that was supposed to be a rival to Kolchak the Night Stalker). The publisher (Sanford) listens to David's tapes as the writer recounts his adventures.

Oh, and did I mention David Norliss is missing? Well, that's important too. After all, I did say he was terrified. Now he has either been killed, kidnapped, or is on the run for his life. We will never know since the series wasn't picked up.

Now, back to that bit of dialogue above. The work was done, at least the pre-work. The book was on tape. This made me think about how we pre-write. Some store audio snippets on a recorder or on their phone. Some use elaborate notes (I recently watched a video about a compelling method called a plot grid I found intriguing). So keep easily shuffle-able notes on index cards or Post-It notes. Some skip all that and jump straight into the process of pantsing with minimal pre-writing. 

But we all have something we do to prepare, particularly for longer works when there are many diverse characters to keep up with, especially if you need to maintain continuity across a book series. 

Back to the movie... Norliss arranges (before going missing, obviously) to meet Sanford for lunch, but he never shows up. Sanfords gets worried. But Norliss' agent tells him not to worry: "Sanford, you should be used to eccentric writers by now. And, in my opinion, David Norliss is just a bit more eccentric than most."

As writers, we all have our eccentricities. Don't even try to deny it. I have writer friends who kill off people who upset them in traffic or at the store. I have writer friends who can only write in a certain chair. There are those who must listen to music, but never music with lyrics. Still others listen only to orchestral movie soundtracks and can't put words on paper without it. 

Very few -- and I mean very few -- are eccentricity-free. In fact, I only know of one who can just open up the laptop, whenever, wherever, no matter the distractions, and start writing as if he's at home in his perfect writing atmosphere. 

But the eccentricities extend beyond the writing itself. Some of us take them with us (I'm looking in the mirror here) into public at conventions or festivals or signings. It might be our "persona" in terms of dress or a shift from the true introvert to the forced extravert. I have one friend who paints his fingernails black for shows to "become" his "writer self" even though he doesn't wear the polish in his regular, daily life. Whatever you need to do to get the job done and to sell the books. 

As the plot moves forward, Sanford finds the tapes and sits down to listen. After popping in the first into the player, he hears David's voice begin:

"Today is Thursday, September 25, and I might as well get started with this thing, get the book rolling with what I've got so far. God knows, it isn't taking the direction I assumed it would."

How often is this the case?

"God knows, it isn't taking the direction I assumed it would."

For Norliss, his entire worldview is being shattered. The supernatural is real and conspiring (we're let to believe) against him. 

For us, it's far more likely to be something less dramatic or dangerous. Our characters may not fit the story now that we're deeper into it. Our plot may not work now because of a few subplots that wove into the narrative while writing. Or maybe we've had a brand new epiphany regarding the theme or plot or characters that requires us to take it back to almost the beginning -- probably from some idea that hit during the night and wouldn't let us get back to sleep until we noted it so we didn't lose it in the morning. 

Regardless, it's a regular part of writing, of telling stories to be saved for posterity. Things change. 

Finally, before we actually begin in earnest the "episodic" story for the movie (which would have been the first adventure recorded on The Norliss Tapes), we have this bit of original inspiration from the writer: "This whole thing began when my natural writer's curiosity was aroused by an article I had read in a weekly periodical."

Our ideas for stories come from anywhere, from everywhere. For Norliss, his book idea came from an article in a magazine. For you, it might come from a song. For me, it might come from a bit of dialogue from a novel I'm reading. For others, it might be triggered by a "what if" statement from a dream. 

People ask me at shows all the time, "Where do you get your ideas?" It's a difficult question to answer, at least more difficult than they realize, because they come from everywhere. 

Sometimes they come from the things mentioned above. But just as often, they come from a leaf I see falling from a tree that is still hanging around long after Winter should have claimed it. Or, like the legend associated with Chekov, it might come from an ashtray. Or like the character in the movie House of Long Shadows, it might come from a bet and a challenge. 

The trick is to be open to them when they do surprise you and to have a way to make sure you don't forget them before the next one hits.