The story behind the story

Figure out how it works before you start, or things could get messy
Step 1: Figure out how it all works

A slightly altered holiday work schedule has resulted in more hours on the air, which is always nice, but less time cranking out pages, which isn’t.

So I make the most of the handful of minutes between reports with the always-reliable working on an outline. This time – the monster script.

Despite knowing the general playing-out of the story, there was something that wasn’t clicking. Most of the items on my mental checklist had been checked off.

Most. Not all.  What was missing?

It took the constant back-and-forth between the opening sequences of the two previous outlines to make me realize what it was: I’d never fully established what happened before the story started.

Not knowing how everything came about was preventing me from moving forward. I had to create this world before I could write about it.

Think of the opening crawl in STAR WARS (“It is a period of civil war. Rebel spaceships, etc. etc…”). It establishes what we need to know. Without it, we’d be too busy trying to figure things out.

Using that as an example, I worked out my own version of the opening crawl. It won’t be in the actual script, but it’s a pretty solid foundation for setting things up – a better realization of how this world works, what the antagonist wants and how that can be accomplished, the challenges the protagonist faces, just to name a few.

The work on this is far from being over, but developing this really helped. Some important blanks have been filled in and I’ve got a firmer grasp of how the story works.

Time now to start the latest version of the outline and see how it goes.

-Regarding the recent release of this year’s Black List. There appear to be a handful that sound pretty good, but the rest don’t really do much for me.

No doubt they’re all extremely well-written (why else would they be on the list?), but a majority don’t have that “Read me!” vibe. It probably doesn’t help that the writers are not the ones providing the loglines. I suspect that would make quite a difference.

The fat that must be trimmed

Personally, I prefer a red pen and the 'delete' key
Personally, I prefer a red pen and the ‘delete’ key

Steadily working my way through the coveted territory of Act 3, although the wrapping-up of some subplots still needs some work. Nothing I can’t handle.

Throughout this whole process has been an ongoing tinkering with what was there before. Some items have been cut (necessarily so) while some have been expanded (also necessarily so).

Among what had been cut were a trio of characters who only existed in a handful of scenes in the third act. The only reason they were originally around was to provide conflict with the main character, but didn’t really serve much else of a purpose.

So they’ve been cut, with another character’s part slightly modified and expanded to take their place.

This goes way beyond killing one’s darlings. It’s about making the story as lean and streamlined as possible, and if that means cutting characters, scenes or even sequences, so be it.  You do what’s necessary.

But this is also where it can get tricky. How do you know what should stay and what should go?

Unfortunately, there’s no easy answer. But you can learn by constantly writing, rewriting and getting feedback. It’s a skill that takes time to develop, so don’t rush it.

(You could read scripts, but those are often the finished product. You won’t know what it looked like before.)

A good rule of thumb: ask yourself as you write and edit – “How much of a difference will it make to the story if I take this out?”

Chances are once you make those cuts, you won’t even miss what’s been taken out, which means it probably shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

-A total self-indulgent announcement: I ran the San Jose Rock & Roll Half Marathon on Sunday, thinking there was no way I could beat my previous best time ever of 1:53:07, set back in August.

But somehow, despite warm weather and the occasional feeling of “Jeez, when is this going to end?”, I shaved almost 2 minutes off and finished at 1:51:11. Totally didn’t see that coming.

With no races scheduled in the near future, I don’t want to get ahead of myself and even consider the possibility of hitting 1:50.

Although I’ll admit the thought does occasionally cross my mind.

Isn’t a rock a hard place to begin with?

Gotta pick one, but which one?
Gotta pick one, but which one?

Hard choices. That’s what it comes down to for your protagonist.

Someone in my old writing group put it very succinctly: each scene should force the protagonist so they have no choice but to go with the option that makes things harder for them.

If things were easy for your protagonist and everything went right for them, it wouldn’t be much of a story, would it?  We’d be bored silly.

It all stems from the necessary key word: conflict. Something must be opposing them reaching their goal.

This doesn’t mean it’s someone or something physically blocking them, although that is one option. It could be something out of nature, like a great white shark, a hurricane or a killer virus, or something from the grand scheme of the universe, like time, fear or silence.

One of the great things about conflict is there are countless ways to present it. It comes in all forms, but it really boils down to something in the scene (as well as the overall story) preventing your protagonist from moving things forward.

Taking it one step further, not only do you have to make sure they do, but they have to be the one doing it. Anything else is a cheat, and totally negates their development as a character.  Imagine if Dumbledore said, “Here’s a step-by-step list of what you have to do, Harry.” The mentor figure is there to guide the protagonist down the right path, not take the path for them.

The protagonist has to endure all of these conflicts in order to not only accomplish their goal, but grow or change from what they were when we first met them.

So go ahead and put ’em through the ringer. It’s the way it must be.

-I had the pleasure of doing an interview with Henry Sheppard, aka Adelaide Screenwriter. Check it out here.

>Insert diabolical laughter here<

Followed immediately by this. Sorry. Couldn’t resist.

 

I vowed to get to the end of Act Two, and by gosh, I did. And then some. This really is the “all seems lost” moment for my protagonist. I had to make sure it seemed like she has no way whatsoever of reaching her goal, and that’s how it’s playing out so far.  How in the world is she going to get out of this exceptionally insurmountable situation? Which is exactly what I want you to think.

(Actually, you should be thinking that in every scenario for anybody’s script.)

While it’s fun to put the whole story together, I get a certain joy from devising what kind of obstacles to keep throwing into the mix. Taking this one step further, after I come up with the problem, I have to figure out how my hero gets out of each scrape. And since this is a Western, there’s a whole lot to choose from.

Those who know me personally would not hesitate to call me a nice person. “Still a boy scout,” even. But when it comes to developing the bad guys? Hello, dark side! From somewhere deep within the far reaches of my mind, I’m able to conjure up actions and characters most sinister.  The harder I make the conditions for my hero, the more interesting the story gets.

I want my hero to succeed, right? Then they have to go through hell in order to do that. And it’s up to me as the creator of this particular world to devise every hellish detail and solution.

If the prospect of doing this doesn’t make you giddy, then you’re in the wrong business.

Next up: keeping you on the edge of your seat while wrapping it all up in Act Three.

At least it’s something

The past few days have not been kind.

I thought I made some good progress with some slight revamping of the major plot points, at least in terms of my page 45 and midpoint.  The problem was getting from what I had already developed to this new set-up.

I couldn’t figure out what to write.  And when a writer doesn’t know what to write, it’s very frustrating.

It probably didn’t help that I read those two Black List scripts.  The writing in those was really impressive.  Mine?  Not so much right now.

But I also reminded myself that those other scripts weren’t first drafts.  I bet they had the same kind of problems putting them together that I am now.  And that actually help me feel better.  I know this will all come together in the end.  It’s the gettin’ there that kills you.

Today, I was determined to make some kind of progress and move forward.

One of the things I always use as a placeholder during the outline process is a note to myself in a scene to WORK ON THIS or EXPAND! or DEVELOP.

Which is exactly what I did.  I had a general idea of what I wanted to happen in one sequence, tried to play out the scenario in my mind and put it on the page.

And it worked.  Which is nice.

Even better, I changed something in the scene right after that one that presents more of a challenge to my main character.  Before, she was able to figure something out too easily, so I made it really hard for her.

Since conflict is vital to a good story, one of the best questions a writer needs to ask him or herself: what’s the worst thing that can happen to your character to make achieving their goal that much harder?  If Luke and Co just stroll into the Death Star, get Leia and leave, that wouldn’t be much of a story, would it?

Before, this sequence came across as too easy for my heroine.  Now, she really has to pull herself out of a really deep hole.

And now the fun really begins.  I need to figure out how to have the three separate subplots tie together, and about 8-10 pages to do it in.

And I can do it, too.  Not quickly, but I can.  And will.

No Movie of the Moment right now, but V discovered the magic that is the Marx Brothers courtesy of Turner Classic Movies on New Year’s Eve.  If you don’t laugh during the mirror sequence from DUCK SOUP, then something is wrong with you.