Put ’em through the wringer

Work on your script AND a load of laundry at the same time!
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.

Got an A for my Q?

Gimme the straight scoop, pal
Gimme the straight scoop

Every time I connect with somebody on some kind of social media or community forum, I ask the same question:

How are your latest projects coming along?

It’s always a wide variety of genres in various stages of development, and always nice to hear.

Here’s what’s going on with me.

-Still trudging my way through the revamp of the outline for the pulpy adventure spec. I’m somewhere between the midpoint and the page 75 plot point. It feels a bit disoriented as I work my way through it, but it should get better as I push my way forward.

So how about you? What’s occupying your time these days?

Greetings from No Man’s Land!

Lost? Of course not. Just recalculating my position.
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.

This, rather than that

 

It's going to take a while to find the right path
It’s going to take a while to find the right path

The past several days have been all about revamping the story/outline of the monster spec. The percentage of what’s being eliminated from previous versions continues to grow on a daily basis.

A lot of what’s left still needs to be fixed, or at least changed. As much as I love the original ideas, they just weren’t working.

Part of the problem was my stubbornness to consider alternatives, and the frustration over trying to force the creativeness wasn’t helping either.

As has happened before, I had to ignore what I wanted, and concentrate on what worked for the story.  This had to be slow, calculated and meticulous, but I had one slight advantage this time around.

Remember that whole ‘previous draft’ thing? Turns out a lot of the contents are becoming just what I need by applying “What if…?” or “How about…?”

(Yet another example of why you should hold onto your previous drafts – they’re a treasure trove of of potential material)

These questions are proving to be more than adequate in creating foundations for developing new material. By taking a slightly different approach, new and previously unconsidered alternatives are making themselves known.

It has definitely yielded some positive results, including a drastic reconfiguring of the antagonist – originally conceived one way, but after finally accepting that changes were necessary and much tinkering, now fits into the story a lot better, and also provides for stronger conflict with the protagonist.

Don’t be afraid to consider new ways or different approaches to what you already have. While you may think it’s perfect the way it is, chances are it could probably use some reworking.

 

Their opinion (singular) vs their opinion (plural)

Anybody else have something to say?
Anybody else have something to say?

When you get feedback on your work, you have the luxury of being able to pick and choose which comments and suggestions you’re going to use, and disregarding the rest.

It’s only one person’s thoughts, right? Maybe there’s a worthwhile nugget or two in there.

But what if more than one person makes the same comment?  If those folks mentioned it, it might be likely more are going to as well.

Take a look at what they’re saying. Can you understand why they said it, and more importantly, what can you do to fix it?

Such was the case for a pivotal plot point in my western spec. At least three people asked “Why does this character do this?”

Each claimed it didn’t make sense and felt contrived, like it was happening because the story needed it to, rather than being set up organically.

If one person had said this, I would have thought “Maybe I’ll take a look at it.”  After the second and third piped in, it quickly changed to “How can I fix this?”

It took some work (mostly with the dialogue) to set things right, so not only does this character now feel more fleshed out, but their actions come across as more believable, there’s more conflict between them and the main character, and the flow of the story is smoother.

A writer’s ego is already a sensitive thing, but what’s more important? Thinking your work is perfect as is and doesn’t need any changes, or being willing to make those changes to make it better?

Maybe it’s a little fix or maybe it requires a major overhaul. No matter what, you’ve got some work to do.