After having reached the midpoint of the pulpy adventure spec outline, I’d been struggling with getting to the next plot point.
Not helping was the almost total jettisoning of material from the previous draft. The story had since changed in a drastic way, so there was nothing to salvage.
While I knew where the story had to go, I couldn’t figure out how to get there.
The midpoint sequence ended the way it had to – hero fully committed to achieving his goal, but now on several levels, and the antagonist getting closer to achieving his.
But what happens next?
Exploring several options, something finally clicked and I remembered a very simple rule we all tend to sometimes forget:
It’s not what could happen, it’s what has to happen.
THIS is what the characters need to do to move things forward (with your protagonist being the primary mover), and the more challenging we can make their journey, the better.
There are plenty of options of how things can play out in your story, but it will take some effort (and a lot of rewriting) to find the one that it needs.
Work on your script AND a load of laundry at the same time!
As work on the pulpy adventure spec plods forward, one of the key components of a solid script is constantly reminding me to use it to its fullest potential.
Conflict. Without it, you won’t have much of a story.
While each scene should be advancing the plot, theme and character development, there also needs to be some kind of conflict.
You know that analogy about structure that involves your character getting stuck up a tree and having rocks hurled at them? Being stuck and the rocks would be the conflict.
(I can just imagine the studio note – “I love it! But does it have to be rocks? And how about a bush instead of a tree?” But I digress.)
Characters need to keep encountering obstacles that prevent them from achieving their goal. Your job is to make those obstacles tough for them.
Here’s where things get interesting and how to make your script stand out from the rest – those obstacles can be in the form of just about anything.
Conflict doesn’t mean there should be a major argument or a slam-bang, knockdown punch-fest; more like the confluence of two opposing ideals with some degree of intensity.
Say you’ve got a character who absolutely needs to be somewhere at a certain time. It’s up to you to think of different ways to make their journey anything but easy. Lost keys, flat tire, car won’t start, traffic jam, and so on.
As the story progresses, so should the levels of conflict. Start off on a small scale, and then build so things just keeping getting worse. This can also be combined with raising the stakes so the reader/audience can’t help but wonder “How are they going to get out of this one?”
Something else to consider: try to make the conflict organic. Don’t have something happen because the story needs it to; make it feel like it belongs. Going back to the earlier example of the character trying to get somewhere – it makes more sense they would get pulled over for speeding, rather than, say, abducted by aliens or attacked by zombies (unless that’s part of the story).
Simply put, you have to put your characters through hell before they can get what they’ve been trying to get the whole time. If you’ve done a good job in making us want to root for them, the more we’re going to want to see them succeed.
Lost? Of course not. Just recalculating my position.
It took some doing, but I finally managed to get to the midpoint of the rewrite of the monster spec outline.
As is required for this particular plot point, my hero is now firmly committed to achieving his goal, plus not one, but two new conflicts thrown into the mix to make it that much harder for him.
There’s still a little setup-payoff work that needs to be applied to some earlier scenes, but I really like how it’s coming along.
But for now, my attention shifts forward – further into the vast wasteland that is the rest of Act Two.
To some, a staggering task of herculean proportions. For me – not too much.
Well, maybe a little.
Act Two can be incredibly intimidating. Your script can have a killer opening and fantastic ending, but if what happens between them isn’t as good, if not better, than you’re in trouble.
What takes place in those 50-60 pages can really make or break your story. A reader or audience wants to see things happen as the characters grow (or at least change).
With such a vast canvas to work with, you might lose track of a lot of elements – supporting characters, subplots, etc. I remember reading a script that introduced what I thought was going to be an interesting subplot, but after that initial appearance, it never showed up again. It’s possible the writer just forgot about it, or maybe didn’t know how to develop it.
Take your time to plan things out. Yes, we all want to get done faster, but in this case, that’s the worst thing you could do.
Let’s assume you’ve got your plot points in place, so now it’s a matter of connecting them. What has to happen in each scene to move things ahead to the next one?
Remember: each scene, no matter how big or small, should advance the plot, theme and character, as well as contain some kind of conflict.
It’s easy to get lost in all the details. Maybe there’s too much focus on this part, and not enough on that one. Again, take your time to figure it out. Besides, you’ll be able to make the necessary fixes in the next batch of rewrites.
It’s okay if you don’t have all the answers right now, but there are lot of details you’re going to need to fill in as you move forward. And always keep asking “Is this the best way to have this happen?”
The journey through Act Two can definitely be a challenge, but it can be a little less daunting if you go into it prepared and knowing where you want to go.
BETTIE, mid 20s. Don’t let her all-American looks fool you. Trouble goes out of its way to avoid HER.
When we, the reader, first meet an important character in your script, how do you describe them? What are the important details?
A lot of the time, the emphasis is on their physical traits – “tall”, “imposing”, “blonde”, “handsome”, “drop-dead gorgeous”, etc.
Or maybe it’s a simple adjective or two – “bubbly”, “funny”, “a nice guy” and so on.
These are okay, but you have to admit they’re kind of dull, which makes it more challenging for us to be interested in wanting to follow their story.
So how do you fix this? Time to ramp up that creativeness and really focus on what kind of person this character is, rather than what they look like. Unless a physical description is a key character trait, don’t worry about it.
One of the most memorable intros I ever read described the best friend of the teenaged protagonist – “James Dean cool at 15.” That’s it. Pretty effective, and in only five words.
Doesn’t this give you a better idea of what this character is like than say, “cool and aloof?”? This is the kind of writing that catches our eye AND makes an impression.
A former co-worker of mine used to describe a very talkative friend as “If you asked him what time it was, he’d tell you how to build a watch.” See how it goes beyond the good-but-simplistic “chatty know-it-all”?
Cliched as it sounds, we really are painting pictures with words – not just for the story, but the characters in it. You’re already crafting a unique and original story, so why not develop a unique and original way to tell us about the characters in it?
This isn’t saying you should always strive to be clever and witty about it, but at least try for something different. This is just a small part of showing off your writing skills.
Take a look at how you introduce the characters in your latest draft. Does it really tell us what you want us to know about them? If not, how could you rewrite it so it does?
It goes without saying that any screenwriter is a movie buff. We have to be. It’s our love of movies that got us into this in the first place.
We’ve all got our favorites. Countless genres are spanned. Writers, directors or performers we can usually rely on for solid, quality work. Who hasn’t claimed to have seen a particular movie “over a hundred times”?
So what is it about them that makes us have no problem with watching them over and over, as opposed to seeing something once and being done with it, or maybe even abandoning ship around the halfway point?
A favorite film motivates repeat viewings. You’re enjoying the whole experience so much that when it’s over, you’re already looking forward to seeing it again.
Consider the films in your home collection. What is it about them that made you go so far as to want to own them?
For as much as I talk about STAR WARS, RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK and BACK TO THE FUTURE, all of which I could watch over and over, I’m also perfectly content with something that doesn’t involve special effects, like TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN or SOME LIKE IT HOT.
What do all of these have in common? For me, it all boils down to fantastic storytelling with well-crafted three-dimensional characters, both of which also motivate and inspire me to be a better writer.
Which is what it all comes down to. The writing, which starts with us.
Not only are we striving to create a story, but we want to make them so amazing that they’re practically irresistible not only to the people who make the movies, but the movie-going public.
While working on that latest project, we imagine what the finished product would look like on the big screen and hope the audience is having such a blast watching it that they’ll want to come back for more.
But imagining is one thing. Actually making it compelling and involving is another.
We must continuously write, rewrite, hone and polish each individual piece of work to make it as involving and engaging as possible.
Not sure if yours is? Ask somebody. Writing group, trusted colleague, paid analyst. Doesn’t matter. Always be striving for greatness, my friends.
Our work is definitely cut out for us. It’s hard enough to write a good script. It’s even harder to write one people want to continuously return to.
