The hurry up and wait countermeasure

I suppose watching paint dry is an option...
I suppose watching paint dry is one option…

What a dreadful phrase.

Everybody’s been through this at one point or another. It’s an inevitability, no matter what field you’re in.

I got to experience it twice in the past couple of days. The first was mentioned by a colleague waiting to hear back about one of his numerous projects.  The other’s me waiting for a new batch of script notes.

You work and slave for countless hours, then send the finished product off, eagerly waiting for the go-ahead to move forward.  But it never happens as fast as you want at it to, and it’s killing you.

“What the hell’s taking them so long?” you think to yourself.

Fortunately, the perfect solution is always available to us folks of creativeness, and it’s not as hard as you think – focus on another project.

Doesn’t matter what. Start something new, go back to a previous one, maybe finally dive into that completely different something you’ve always wanted to try.  Productivity is always a good thing.

Worrying about that thing you just sent out isn’t going to do you any good, so you may as well redirect all that anxious energy into something positive.

The more time you spend on this new thing, the less you’ll think about that previous one. And before you know it, progress has been made.

Added bonus – building up your arsenal of material. This way you’ll be well-prepared when asked “What else have you got?”

Fighting the latest metaphoric fire

always alert & ready to spring into action
Ever alert and ready to spring into action

It seems to happen especially when you suspect there’s a remote possibility it could.

You’re going over the latest draft of your script. The one you’ve been working on for what feels like an eternity.  The one you’ve been so meticulous in plotting and figuring out what happens, making sure everything ties up nicely.  No loose ends. No gaping plot holes.

After countless rewrites, you’re positive this thing is done.  It’s ready to go out.  But you give it that one last read-through, just to be sure.

Maybe there’s the occasional line rewritten or replacing of words, but for the most part, there’s not a lot to change.

Oh, false sense of security. Why do you torture us so?

Because that’s exactly when you find it:  a small gap in logic that brings things to a screeching halt.  Until now it had stayed hidden.  From everybody.

It’s the kind of thing someone might not notice while they’re watching your movie, but might later come up after further analysis. “Hey. How could he have ___?”

Almost as if on autopilot, your brain and creativeness kick in. What’s the most plausible solution?  Does it mesh smoothly with the rest of the story? Is there a way to set this up so it pays off in a more-than-satisfying way?

You know there’s an answer to this. It’s all a question of finding it.

You’re a writer. It’s what you do. You probably even live for this kind of thing.

That panicky stress upon first realizing there’s a problem has given way to calm and strategic thinking of how to fix this. Maybe you even devise several possible solutions, testing each one out to see which works best.

But in the end, the right words have been found, and that nasty ol’ logic gap has been filled.

As far as you’re concerned, the script has once again reclaimed the empowering adjective of bulletproof.

At least until you get your next batch of notes, and it starts all over again.

The subconscious storyteller does it again!

How could I have missed that?
How could I have missed that?

When I start a new story, one of the first things I do is figure out the major plot points – statement of theme on page 3 (or at least thereabouts), inciting incident on page 10, and so on.  After that, it’s coming up with the most effective way to get from one to the next.  It’s how I’ve always done it, and it works for me.

One of the key purposes of the end of your first act is to get your hero off on their journey. This includes raising the central question of your story – will the hero accomplish their goal?  For example, in STAR WARS it’s the scene after Luke discovers the smoldering corpses of his aunt and uncle. He tells Ben he wants to go with him to Alderaan, learn the ways of the Jedi, etc.

Since I’d started working on my western outline, a lot of the plot points were pretty firmly established. I knew what I wanted to happen and when. For the most part, they’ve stayed the same this whole time.

I filled in the gaps between those points with scenes and sequences that I felt did the best job of moving the story forward, including some that needed to have the proper amount of emotional gravitas.

Jump ahead to the present. The churning-out of pages continues. Some scenes are easier to write than others, but progress is constant.  I work my way through Act One, wrapping it up with a sequence that really changes things around.

But then I realized Act One really ends in the scene right before it.  This short, dialogue-free scene still moves the story forward, but has a more significant impact on the story itself – moreso than the rousing sequence that follows.  The hero’s situation completely changes direction, and you can’t help but wonder how she could possibly accomplish her goal after this. No matter what, her situation is going to get worse before it gets better.

Working all of this out during the outline stage was a huge benefit. It seems very doubtful I would have discovered this if I had just dashed off a quick outline and dove into pages. Further proof why it’s important to take your time and fine-tune your outline.

So now I’m a few pages into Act Two and as this sequence kicks in, things get changed up even further.  Only negative that came to light: my hero isn’t the one making things happen. She has to be more active and less reactive.  I may spend a little time on it now, or come back to it during the rewrite.

And if I’ve done a good enough job on developing this outline, the answer may already be right there in front of me again.

I just don’t know it yet.

More like chiseled in frosting

Didn't work out right the first time? Go back and do it again.
Sometimes you just have to go back and do it again

Y’know one of the best things about putting together a story?

If something doesn’t work, you can change it (and most of the time, the change is for the better).

Most of the details in my western outline seemed pretty solid, and they were transferring nicely to the steady output of pages.

Then I got to the culmination of a big sequence – it involved a shootout. Something seemed out of place. I read the thumbnail sketch of the scene in the outline again.

Wait a minute.  Where did the one character get a gun?

A quick check of some previous scenes. There was no opportunity for that happen.

So now I’ve got a choice to make: keep it as written in the outline, or try something different.  Keeping it would mean going back and changing several scenes, which could also potentially slow the pace of the story. I opted for something different.

The end result was a shortened scene that retained crucial story and plot points, which gave them more of an impact. I also went with ending the scene ‘bigger’, keeping with the overall tone of the story.

There’s a good chance this will also result in having to rework parts of the big finale, but for now I like the way it plays out.  Besides, there’s another chance for a rewrite for the better.

So even though you think your story’s ready to go, chances are more than likely you’re going to reach a point where something has to be changed, fixed, altered or just plain rewritten.  Don’t see this as a negative – welcome the opportunity with open arms.

You want each scene to advance the story in the most effective way possible, and now you’ve given yourself the chance to do that.

Ask yourself if this is the best way a scene can be done. If not, what can be changed so it not only does what it’s supposed to, but does it better than your original version?

Then do the same for the next one, then the one after that, until you reach the end.

Simple, no?

A world of my own design OR Atlas, schmatlas

The land is mine to manipulate as I see fit. So there.
This land is mine to manipulate as I see fit.  So there.

Making some good progress on the western outline. This “working at least 30 minutes a day” thing has really moved things along; actually much faster than originally anticipated. Give it a try if you haven’t already.

Sure, there are still some small details here and there that need to be hammered out, but for the most part the majority of the story is pretty close to being done.

When I started this, I wanted to make it as realistic as possible (or at least as much as a story about a female train engineer in the Old West can be), and that included using real geographic settings.  I wanted the fort here, the showdown here, etc.

But that just raised more questions. If the fort’s here, how far is it to this other point, and how fast would the train have to go in order to get there, and could trains go that fast during that time, and was there even a rail line between those two points?

This was becoming way more complicated than it had to be. I want to tell a story, not set up a math word problem.

So as I was going back and forth between the new and previous drafts, it dawned on me: I can just make stuff up, including where things happen.

I’m the writer. I’m allowed to do that.

So out went locations that actually exist, and in came totally fabricated ones (yet another benefit to all those years of listening to old-time radio westerns).

The feeling’s quite liberating. No longer do I have to worry about making sure every single detail is spot-on accurate, and can now focus on developing a rousing tale of adventure populated with colorful characters.

Which is how it should be.

-Major crisis narrowly averted! I’d lost a flash drive with a lot of script stuff on it. Only during the DREAMSHIP rewrite did I start making additional copies onto my hard drive, so a lot of projects I’d started before that were apparently gone forever.

I did a fairly good job of masking my pain, but was internally kicking myself for not having more backups (20/20 hindsight and all that).

Happy ending – K found the flash drive. Lesson learned – I’m in the process of saving everything on Google Docs so I never have to panic like that again.

You’re probably thinking “that’ll never happen to me. I’m always careful.” I used to think that too. Now it’s all about taking extra precautions.

-Movie of the Moment – FRANKENWEENIE (2012). A lot of fun that cleverly pays homage to classic monster movies. Parental advisory – V cried when the dog was killed (done very tastefully offscreen)