craft

Past You would be really impressed

Maximum Z craft, development, dialogue, draft, education, experience, exposition, feedback, notes, rewriting, scenes, screenplay, screenwriting, script, skill, writing , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Ask any screenwriter how their most recent draft compares to, say, their very first one, by which I mean THEIR ABSOLUTE VERY FIRST ONE, it’s probably a sure thing they’ll say something along the lines of “It was awful!” or “An absolute mess!”, or maybe even “I don’t even want to think about it it was so bad.”

Taking a look at some of my first attempts, I can say the exact same thing. Scenes that drag on. Flat action lines, or ones that were way overwritten. Big chunks of text on the page. On-the-nose dialogue that’s pure exposition. Spoonfeeding story details to the reader to make sure they understand what’s going on.

Nothing to be ashamed of. There are vomit drafts, and “looks like my printer vomited words all over the pages” drafts. You gotta start somewhere, and the important part is YOU GOT IT WRITTEN.

Nowhere to go but up, right?

So you start working on getting better. You get feedback. You start to understand why things aren’t working and what you can do to fix them. You learn, and all this new knowledge helps shape the next draft to better than the one that came before it.

You put in the time and the effort and it becomes more noticeable how your writing is getting better. All of those newbie mistakes are a thing of the past. Your script seems more polished. There’s still room to improve, but it doesn’t seem as daunting now, does it?

Multiple drafts and seemingly neverending rewrites are par for the course. It happens to even the most experienced screenwriters. The hardest part is getting that first draft written. Accomplish that and you’re already ahead of the game.

There will most likely be a ridiculous amount of rewriting in your future, and the end result may be totally different from what you started with, but think about how far you’ve come. You probably had no idea when you were just starting out that you’d be so willing to put yourself through all of this, over and over again.

And that might even be for just one script.

Sure, you might be a little embarrassed when you look at your earliest scripts, but look at your most recent draft or the pages you wrote last weekend. As if they’d been written by two entirely different writers. Because that’s exactly what they are.

Past You was just starting out and made a lot of mistakes. Present You knows what’s needed and does it.

And just imagine the skills that Future You is going to have.

From the archives: Writing in your own voice

Maximum Z audience, Billy Wilder, characters, craft, creativeness, development, dialogue, Marilyn Monroe, originality, professionalism, screenplay, screenwriting, script, Some Like It Hot, story, storytelling, style, subtext, voice, writing , , , , , , , , , , ,
“Hmm. Billy’s new script. Something about men dressing up as women to hide from gangsters? Hope it’s funny.”

I’ve seen a good number of articles and online comments recently about how a script should convey the writer’s “voice”. That prompted this blast from the past from June 8, 2018.

Enjoy.

“When I’ve done script notes for writing colleagues, no matter what the genre is, I can usually tell who wrote it – because of the way it reads. Each writer has their own particular style, so each of their scripts has its own corresponding “sound”. Or I’ll get notes back on my material which often includes a comment along the lines of “this sounds like something you’d write”.

This isn’t just about dialogue. It’s about a writer’s overall style, or how they tell the story of their script. You don’t just want the reader to read your story; you want them to experience it. Which can be accomplished by adding that extra layer.

Everybody develops their own individual style, and it takes time to find it. The more you write, the more you’ll be able to hone your writing to reflect your own individuality.

Just a few things to think about:

-How does your script read? Is the writing crisp and efficient, or are you wasting valuable page real estate with too many lines of  your loquacious verbosity? Taking it one step further, do you use the same words over and over, or do you relish any opportunity to give your thesaurus a solid workout?

-How is your story set up and how does it play out? Is it simple and straightforward, or complex and full of deliciously tantalizing twists and turns? Are you working that creativeness to show us things we haven’t seen before, or is just page after page of the same ol’, same ol’?

-Is it a story somebody besides you would want to see? Just because you find the subject matter interesting doesn’t mean it has universal appeal. However, there is the counter-argument to that in which you could attempt to have your story include elements that would satisfy fans of the genre while also appealing to newcomers.

-Can’t ignore the population within the pages. Are your characters well-developed and complex, or do they come up lacking? Do we care about them, or what happens to them? Can we relate to them?

-What are your characters saying, or not saying (subtext!)? How are they saying it? Do they sound interesting or dull as dishwater? Very important – do they sound like actual people, or like “characters in a movie”?

Remember – the script is a reflection of you. A solid piece of writing shows you know what you’re doing. Offering up something sloppy is simply just sabotaging yourself.

Who hasn’t heard a variation on the line about a script being a cheap knockoff of a more established writer? While I can understand admiring a pro writer’s style, why would you attempt to copy it? It probably took them a long time to find their own voice, and by trying to write like they do, you’re denying yourself the opportunity to do the same thing for yourself.

Or to put it another way: they didn’t take any shortcuts to become the writer they are today, so why should you?”

It worked before, so why not again?

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This year’s contest season is pretty much over for me, with some not-too-bad and better-than-expected results.

My animated fantasy-comedy took 3rd Place in Family/Animation at StoryPros, was a quarterfinalist in PAGE and Emerging Screenwriters Animation, and made Second Round at Austin and the ISA Fast Track Fellowship.

Still waiting to hear from a few smaller contests, but none worth mentioning.

Quick note: I’ll be attending Austin this year. Hope to see you there.

I’m quite proud of how this script turned out, and even though I’m rewriting another script, as well as developing a new one after that, there’s still a chance I’ll go back and do another draft.

But I’m not in any rush. Taking my time seems to work well for me.

A few years ago, I opted to skip the contests and just focus on making the scripts better. It was a good decision.

So I think I’ll do it again.

For the time being, no contests for me for the 2024 season. I’d much rather focus on getting these scripts into decent fighting shape.

This is where I’d also add a mention of how much money I’d be saving by not doing any contests. Those fees really add up, don’t they? That’s still the case, to a certain extent. I’m giving serious consideration to redirecting the money spent on contests to one or two sets of professional feedback.

I’m also very fortunate that I have an amazing network of writers who will happily provide feedback on these scripts. A lot of them will be entering contests, and I’ll be the first to cheer their victories and console their defeats.

I won’t say it’s like a heavy load’s been removed from my shoulders, but it definitely feels like the right choice. The contests will always be there, and I’d rather take the time to really hone these scripts so they’re as good as they can be.

Knowing your nails and how to use them

Maximum Z audience, choices, craft, creativity, development, ideas, inspiration, intelligence, opportunity, payoff, problem-solving, productivity, screenplay, screenwriting, script, setup, story, storytelling, structure, writing, writing process , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Savvy and experienced consumer of literature I’m sure you are, no doubt you’re more than somewhat familiar with the classic piece For Want Of A Nail:

For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

Sometimes we don’t realize how important something is that at first glance might seem completely insignificant.

The same concept could apply to screenwriting and the details of your story. A reader could see something and wonder “I don’t get it. Why is this in here?”

If you do the work and plan accordingly, the answer/reason will soon be obvious. That little detail is there for a reason, probably an important one, and without it, the rest of the story won’t work.

This is important on several levels.

It shows you put a lot of thought into putting the story together.

It shows you understand the concept of effective setups and payoffs.

It shows you respect the intelligence of your reader/audience and don’t feel the need to deliberately draw our attention to this sort of thing.

It always bothers me when a story sets something up and doesn’t pay it off, or has something later on in the story that comes out of nowhere.

Some writers go into it with a solid idea of how everything is set up and know how it’s going to play out, some come up with the bare bones of a foundation and fill in the blanks, and there are even those who sit down with a blank page, start writing, and see how it goes.

I tend to waver between the first two.

Sometimes you might even go back over what you’ve already written and discover an opportune moment to put in a small detail that can further enhance something later on in the story. It’s as if your subconscious was working in conjunction with your creativity and giving you an unexpected helping hand.

Are parts of your story set up that they start with a “nail” and escalate from there? Or does something happen later that could use a stronger setup?

You’d be surprised at seeing the ripple effect one little change can have on the rest of your script. Hopefully for the better.

There’s gold in them thar dumpster fires!

Maximum Z characters, craft, editing, education, film, movies, rewrite, screenplay, screenwriting, script, story, structure, writing, writing process , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Saw a great quote the other day that was along the lines of “Being a writer is like having homework for the rest of your life.”

From a certain perspective, that definitely has a negative connotation. Emphasizing the ‘work’ part of the word indicates drudgery and toil. Like, strictly dullsville, man.

The obvious solution is to make it a positive experience.

I know. Easier said than done, but bear with me.

(Writing should never seem like work anyway, but that’s another post.)

To be a better screenwriter, you need to read scripts and watch movies. You can see how the pros did it and figure out how that could potentially influence your work.

While watching your favorites and the classics can definitely help, I also suggest watching really shitty movies as well.

Hard as this might be to accept, there’s something be gained from it.

What was it that made them bad?

The possibilities are numerous, but a good percentage of the time – it’s the script.

As a writer, you can use that to your advantage.

Painful an experience as it might be, watch that bad movie from a writer’s perspective. Is it the writing that sucks? The story? The characters (and not the actors)? Is there a coherent sense of structure? Is there any structure at all? Does the story flow naturally, or do things happen because it seems like the story needs them to?

Maybe it feels like the writer didn’t take any chances, or worse, went for the very easy and cliched (i.e. expected) solution. Does anything in your script feel that way? If so, think about what changes you could make that would produce the same results, but get you there in a totally different way.

It may be 90-110 minutes of your life you’ll never get back, but at the very least you’ll get a better idea of what NOT to do when it comes to developing your script.

And that is a worthwhile lesson for any screenwriter.