One of my favorite books of the last few years is Delia Owens’ Where the Crawdads Sing, a stunning and lyrical coming-of-age story and murder mystery set in the marshes of North Carolina. It’s a gripping, evocative, uniquely told tale--the stuff of great novels. But will it be the stuff of great movies when it arrives in theaters this summer?

There’s a part of me that can’t wait to see the film version of this bestselling book and another part that wonders if it will--if it can--live up to the beauty and power of the novel. We’ll see; I’m hoping for the best.

Hollywood has a spotty track record when it comes to adapting hit books into movies. For every smash like The Godfather, The Exorcist and Jaws, there are duds like The Bonfire of the Vanities, The Goldfinch or last year’s The Woman in the Window (In my humble opinion, nowhere near the washout it was made out to be).

The truth is, not every book should be made into a film, though the more successful the tome, the more chance someone will want to mine it for the big or small screen. The “pre-sold” nature of the property alone can make it irresistible; if all the people who read and loved the book see and, hopefully, love the movie or series, how can it miss? Famous last words.

OKAY, I GET IT, IT’S A HIT-AND-MISS PROPOSITION. BUT WHY SO DICEY?

Good question. As a screenwriter, I’ve adapted quite a few successful, well-told novels, written by other authors, into films. But one of the overriding realizations--and challenges--is that not every book is necessarily structured like a movie.

This then requires an overall rethinking of how to preserve the best elements of the book, including the characters and the narrative that enticed readers to begin with, yet keep the story moving, looking and feeling like a movie.

SO, HONOR THE SOURCE MATERIAL BUT DON’T THROW OUT THE BABY WITH THE BATHWATER?

Pretty much, yeah. Of course, depending on the book you’re adapting, that can be a heavier lift, one that requires a lot of sensitive prioritizing and creative rejiggering. Other times, when a novel unfolds more, let’s say, cinematically, there’s a more efficient blueprint to work from. Often, though, a book will land somewhere in the middle of those two scenarios and will require a multi-pronged approach to its life as a screenplay. Think: copy, condense, expand, transpose, repurpose and, where needed, replace.

But don’t forget that the author put a ton of time--not to mention blood, sweat and tears--into creating the original material, so be as thoughtful as you are effective. (Note: This also applies when you’re hired to rewrite another writer’s script, but that is its own blog post!)

I ASSUME THAT YOU, GARY, ARE BLOGGING ABOUT ALL THIS FOR A MORE… SPECIFIC REASON?

Right you are. See, as much as I’ve thought about the process of adapting books during my various script assignments, it’s hit closer to home lately as I’ve been adapting my own novel, the romantic comedy The Last Birthday Party, into a screenplay. The book, which was published last summer, wasn’t written to be turned into a screenplay per se, despite that screenwriting has been my primary career focus. I didn’t really think about that as I wrote the book, I just wanted to create the best novel I could and write it the way I felt would work best for the story.

But a strange thing happened. Once the book came out and people started reading it, I kept hearing things like “I totally see this as a movie” or “What a great limited series this would make.” So I started looking at the material through that lens, so to speak, and began showing the book to an array of film and TV producers who were intrigued by the book and the concept. The question that invariably arose was, “Is there a script?”

BUT YOU’VE ALREADY CREATED UNDERLYING MATERIAL, ISN’T THAT ENOUGH? WASN’T THAT THE WHOLE PURPOSE?

Maybe, maybe not. Given the value of IP these days in helping move a project forward, it seemed as if the book itself should suffice. I’m proud of the writing in it and, once I started picturing the story on screen, felt as if, at least in theory, the novel could speak for itself. Let’s move the book forward and get a script into development--makes sense, right? And that may yet be the path it takes. You might say, we’re “in process.”

Still, I ultimately decided to write the screenplay version of the book. If it wasn’t needed immediately, it might be down the road. I then became intrigued and excited to see what that script might look like. After all, I love my characters--they became like family--and the story has touched so many readers in such surprising ways, that a screenplay would hopefully work on the requisite entertainment levels. So a few months ago, I plowed forward.

My novel, "The Last Birthday Party"

SOUNDS A LITTLE PIE IN THE SKY. HOW EASY--OR SHOULD I SAY--HARD WAS IT?

Well, on the upside, the book, which follows the travails of Jeremy Lerner, a writer whose life falls apart the day after his 50th birthday party and comes back together in a series of extraordinary ways, largely follows traditional movie structure. So outlining the script went smoothly enough.

But even though the book is of average length, a LOT happens in it, so the question became how much to keep and how much to lose? What were the best, most cinematic and thematically rich parts of the story and which details, tangents and flashbacks could be cut for improved timing and pace?

After all, unlike a book, there’s a more specifically defined page count to a script and, in general, less is more. (That’s a cousin to “show don’t tell,” which also came into play.)

SO HOW MANY “DARLINGS” DID YOU HAVE TO KILL? HOW MUCH DID IT HURT?

Plenty needed to be excised or greatly condensed but as long as it was in the service of telling the best “screen story” I didn’t mind.

In reality, nothing will ever really be lost--it will all live on between the covers of the book. As long as I was able to fill the script with the choicest scenes, character interactions, emotional beats and dialogue from the novel, I felt satisfied.

Should the project be lucky enough to move on as, say, a limited TV series rather than a film, obviously much of the original material could be restored--and even built upon.

TELL THE TRUTH, WERE YOU “EASIER” ON YOUR OWN BOOK THAN YOU WERE ON THE OTHER NOVELS YOU’D PREVIOUSLY ADAPTED?

No, not really. That said, most of the other authors’ books I’ve scripted were probably less cinematically told or structured than mine. This ultimately required more reorganizing and rethinking of the main narrative than “The Last Birthday Party,” but often opened up some new storytelling doors that, I hope, enhanced the narrative. As I said, I’m very conscious of the novelist’s choices and intentions when adapting their work and, at times, have spoken to the author directly with questions or concerns. At least in my experience, these writers have been extremely open to doing what it takes to tell the best version of their story for the screen.

OKAY, BUT WHEN IS THE AUTHOR THE BEST PERSON TO ADAPT THEIR BOOK --AND WHEN IS IT BETTER IN ANOTHER WRITER’S HANDS?

That depends. For starters, many authors consider themselves novelists, not screenwriters and have little or no interest in shifting those gears. Sometimes, they’re also so “done” with their story after working on it for years that they’d rather not revisit it for another medium (plus often they’ve moved on to writing other books).

Then I’ve found authors who want the objectivity of an outside screenwriter to interpret their story, feeling as if they, as the novelist, may not have the emotional “distance” to make the necessary changes. (See: “kill your darlings” answer above.)

Yet, I think if you are an experienced screenwriter--and are open to the prospect--it can make sense to be the one to adapt your own book for film or TV.

No one will know your story, characters and intentions better than you and, as long as you can make the essential cuts and reconfigurations, it should be a viable and effective process.

BUT IN THE END, NO MATTER WHAT, IT WILL TAKE A VILLAGE, RIGHT?

Absolutely. Should your adaptation move forward as a film or series, other creatives--director, producers, execs--will, of course, give notes and input on ways to best improve the script before cameras roll. (As is often the case, a new writer or co-writer may be brought on as well).

It’s not much different than if you sold or were hired onto an original screenplay. It’s always a collaborative effort. But an author, if they want it (that is, negotiate it), often retains and deserves a certain level of propriety over their underlying material.

WHAT ABOUT YOUR BOOK? WHEN WILL WE SEE IT ON THE BIG OR SMALL SCREEN?

Watch this space!