characters

Relocating to a state of zen – OR – Ohmmmmmm

Maximum Z ambition, analysis, characters, comedy, contest, Creative Writing Career, determination, feedback, Nicholl Fellowship, notes, PAGE, podcasts, reading, rewriting, screenwriting, script, self-confidence, westerns, writing
I'll wear the orange, but no way am I shaving my head
I don’t mind the orange robes or the incense, but no way am I shaving my head

As has been well-documented round these parts, I recently entered my western in two contests. One includes feedback as part of the entrance fee, the other gives it as an option.

I don’t usually go the feedback route when it comes to contests, but it had been recommended, so I bit the bullet and opted to do it.

You know that nervous feeling you get in the pit of your stomach while you’re waiting for some kind of potentially life-impacting news? That’s exactly what I was experiencing. Despite my confidence in the script, plus positive comments from friends and trusted colleagues, the butterflies were still taking up residence in my mid-section.

No matter how much I tried to redirect my concentration on working on the low-budget comedy, that nagging thought about the contest feedback would not go away.

What if after all was said and done, the general consensus was that the script sucked and I’d wasted all that time and effort for nothing? Sometimes there’s nothing as powerful as a writer’s self-doubt. It can be downright crippling.

Then the first email came in. If I’d been hooked up to a heart monitor, the thing would have blown a fuse in trying to keep up.

The notes were very positive. Some intriguing comments about what the reader thought needed work, but they seemed to really enjoy it. Possibly even a lot, which was extremely reassuring.

The way I see it, if the reader isn’t gushing over how perfect and wonderful the script is, then I figure there’s not much chance it’ll place, let alone win. Turns out I’m cool with that. While it would be great to win, this is still a pretty solid result.

Two days later, the next email came in. Oh jeez. All those positive feelings I’d reestablished vanished in a puff of smoke. Here we go again.

But much to my surprise, these notes were on par with their predecessor. Lots of positive things to say, plus some suggestions about potential fixes, plus a few things the reader didn’t catch that I thought were fairly obvious, or at least hadn’t been an issue before.

These notes also included scores in 16 categories. Out of a potential 10, I got 2 8s, 2 10s, and the rest were 9s, which was fantastic. Final score 135 out of 150. Not perfect, but still – they seemed to like it, and nobody’s saying, “You suck! Give up now!”  Again, do I think I’ll win? Not likely. Place? Maybe. But right now, that doesn’t seem important.

This whole experience definitely feels like a “face your fears” kind of thing. I know I can do this, and each draft really does help me improve. I was psyching myself out about how I’d do, and ended up actually doing better than expected. That’s pretty good. And since each set of notes had similar things to say about a particular part of the script, I have plenty of time to work on making those fixes before the deadlines for more high-profile contests like PAGE and the Nicholl. Also pretty good.

But most of all I really like the fact that now I can finally put aside thinking/worrying/obsessing about these contests with a little more confidence in my abilities and get back to focusing on developing my other scripts*.

*I’m taking part in the “write an entire script in November” project, but I admit to having had a bit of a head start by working on the low-budget comedy, which was already around the halfway point. But getting this draft done by the end of the month would still put me ahead of schedule.

-My writing chum Justin Sloan, who’s interviewed me as part of his Creative Writing Career book series, has launched the similarly-named Creative Writing Career podcast. A great listen for creative writers interested in several fields, including screenwriting, books and video games. Highly recommended.

Getting over overwriting

Maximum Z characters, description, dialogue, draft, editing, food, guidelines, rewrite, sandwich, scenes, screenwriting, script, writing
Whattya think? Too much?
Whattya think? Too much?

It’s a bad habit of mine, definitely happens in the first draft, and then has to be slowly and surgically removed with each successive draft that follows.

Simply put, I put too much detail into a scene. I visualize in my mind how it plays out, and that’s what I put on the page.

There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s probably my equivalent of a “vomit draft”, where everything gets written down because you know you’re going to go back and edit and rewrite it multiple times. It’s a starting point.

So after you’ve got that first draft written, how do you know what to get rid of?

Like with sculpting a statue out of a block of marble, just chip away anything that doesn’t belong.

Say you have a scene that runs 1 3/4 pages. Do you know what the point of the scene is? Does it advance the plot and the characters’ development? Is there a way to have the scene still do that but with significantly less words? Can you cut the whole thing in half? Can you cut it by 75 percent?

How much of the scene is just back-and-forth dialogue? How detailed are you when it comes to what the characters are doing? (“He climbs the first step of the stairs, pauses to catch his breath, wipes his sweaty brow, then advances another step.” That sort of thing).

Do you describe parts of the scene that, when you really think about it, really don’t have much or anything to do with moving the story forward (how a room is decorated, what the characters are wearing, etc)? I’ve been reading a lot of scripts lately, and have seen all of these on display.

It’s like this is the culmination of three important screenwriting rules:

–get in late, get out early
–get to the point as soon as possible
–write as if ink costs a thousand dollars an ounce

Don’t be of the mindset that you can’t or won’t change anything. Yes, this is your baby, but what’s more important? Your writer’s ego or telling your story in the best, most efficient way possible?

I had a first draft that was 132 pages. Just about every person who gave me notes said it was too long, and that it had to be at least 20-30 pages shorter. At the time, I thought that was asking too much. If I really pushed myself, I could cut maybe 10, 15 tops.

But as I went through each rewrite, trimming wherever I could, savagely wiping scenes, characters and dialogue from existence, it kept getting shorter until I got it down to 107. A whole 25 pages cut, just as was suggested. It took a while, but I got there.

Whittling each scene down to its bare essentials not only helped make the script better, but also proved beneficial to developing my writing and editing skills so while I’m sure I’ll continue to overwrite in the future, at least I’ll be better prepared to deal with it.

A refresher course we can all use

Maximum Z antagonist, characters, concept, half-marathons, ideas, loglines, networking, plot, protagonist, running, screenwriting, script, stakes, subplot, writing
Okay, class. Who needs more time to work on their script?
Okay, class. Who needs more time to work on their script?

I’ve had a lot of goings-on with loglines over the past couple of days, which prompted me to re-post this gem from a little over 2 years ago.

Enjoy.

“Scenario:  You’re at a social function, engaged in idle chit-chat. The topic of you being a screenwriter comes up.

“What’s your story about?” they will undoubtedly ask.

The chance you’ve been waiting for!  What do you say?

You want to pique their curiosity, and not bore them.

In the simplest of terms:  provide a quick summary of the main characters(s) and what happens in the main storyline.

Avoid too much information, non-essential characters, intricate subplots, how it’s a metaphor for this totally different other thing, or generic phrases like “and learns about themselves” or “stumbles into a world she wasn’t prepared for” or the ever-dreaded “wackiness ensues.”

What are the components of an effective logline? Just the following:

1. A protagonist with a flaw.

2. An antagonist with a goal.

3. The situation that pits them against each other

4. What’s at stake/what happens if the protagonist fails?

That’s pretty much it. Keep it simple. Nothing too specific or generic.

Make sure you emphasize the genre. If it’s a comedy, play up the comedic angle. A thriller, go for the suspense. That sort of thing.

And most importantly, make it sound interesting. This is your best chance to grab their attention, so make the most of it (and make sure the script is just as good).”

-3rd half-marathon of the year this weekend. Training’s been more sporadic than I would have liked, so hoping to break 1:55, but will settle for under 2 hours.

Let’s get those brains stimulated, people!

Maximum Z audience, characters, movies, originality, parenting, payoff, Pixar, plot, reading, San Francisco, screenwriting, script, setup, story, storytelling, writing
You mean movies can be smart AND good?
You mean movies can be smart AND good?

One of my favorite things to do as a parent is go to the movies with my daughter. It’s a nice feeling knowing I’ve instilled in her the appreciation of the whole moviegoing experience. It also helps that there’s a fantastic two-screen (one of a handful of similar small neighborhood theatres in San Francisco) a few blocks from us.

And as she’s getting older, our choices are growing in number. Strictly kid-based animation has given way to PG-13 fare, so we try to see what we can when possible.

Earlier this summer, we caught JURASSIC WORLD and INSIDE OUT within a week’s time. She really enjoyed the dinosaur flick. I thought it was fun, but felt it relied more on the nostalgia factor rather than smart storytelling (“Remember when we helped Grandpa fix that old car?”). I found the latest offering from Pixar to be pure genius, while she found it to be simply “okay”. I asked why she liked the first movie more than the second.

“I think I like movies where you don’t have to think too much.”

Gasp.

I won’t go so far as to say it was a dagger in my heart, but you can probably understand my being taken somewhat aback.

I could easily chalk it up to that she’s still relatively young and hasn’t latched on to my love of the movies to the extent that I have. Like I said, the list of what she’s seen is somewhat limited. I’ve done what I can, and hopefully can continue to contribute to it.

But as a writer, what’s my biggest takeaway from this?

Obviously I want to write scripts for films that will be embraced by the general public, which means they’d have to be simple enough that anybody could follow along, but also written in a way that the reader/audience doesn’t feel insulted or talked down to.

All this talk about needing to appeal to the lowest common denominator has always bothered me. It makes it sound like there’s no point in trying to write something smart.

I beg to differ.

Getting the reader/audience to really think about the story gets them more involved. You hooked with them with the beginning, kept them intrigued throughout the middle, and now they’re compelled to find out how it all ends. Isn’t that what it all comes down to?

I love it when I read a script where it’s obvious a writer knows what they’re doing when it comes to telling a story. Setups and payoffs. Multi-dimensional characters. Plotlines where I know what the endpoint is, have no idea how we’re going to get there, and am getting a real kick out of taking the journey.

This is the kind of writing we should all strive to create.

It’s easy to write something that doesn’t try to challenge the reader/audience, and the reaction will probably be similar. “Boring.” “Unoriginal.” “Meh.”

Push yourself to write something that offers up something new, or at least a new twist on an old standard. Give us something we haven’t seen before, or totally weren’t expecting. Not just one part. THE WHOLE THING. There’s something exhilarating about venturing into new territory. Take us there.

We’re writers. It’s what we do.

I’d wager this is you/me/us

Maximum Z characters, creativity, determination, editing, frustration, ideas, pie, problem-solving, rewriting, screenwriting, self-confidence, story, writer's block, writing
The thrills and glamor of writing a screenplay
The thrills and glamour of writing a screenplay

Wouldn’t it be great if every single time you sat down to write, you produced something just flat-out jaw-droppingly incredible?

It would also be great if you could eat an entire pie by yourself and not get sick, but that ain’t gonna happen either.

You work hard and do the best you can, and that’s all you should ask and expect of yourself.

You know what you’re capable of. You set goals, and make the effort to accomplish them. You push yourself to keep getting better.

You might hit the target on the first try, or it might stretch into double-digit territory. Every victory moves you forward.

What separates you from someone who “has been thinking about writing a screenplay?” You are ACTUALLY DOING IT, and even though you know firsthand what a frustratingly aggravating and slow-as-molasses-in-January process it is, you soldier on.

Just finished a draft? You both dread and look forward to the inevitable rewrite.

You do not suffer writer’s block gladly. In fact, you challenge it. With a vengeance.

Faced with a seemingly insurmountable obstacle, you think your way through/around it to a solution. You practically thrive on your ability to keep going, despite how high the odds are stacked against you or when it feels hopeless.

You want this so bad it actually does hurt.

That spark of creativity burns blindingly bright inside you, and you fan the flames as often as possible.

You write because you can’t imagine doing anything else. Coming up with ideas, stories, scenarios and characters brings you a special satisfaction that only a select few can relate to.

A lot of us go into this with dreams of making a career of this. Some will succeed, many won’t, but we don’t let that deter us.

We all have a rocky road ahead, so make sure you keep doing whatever you have to in order to stay on it. The final destination is well worth it.

Happy travels, chums.