Deliberately avoiding referencing that song

A great mantra, but a little tired of hearing it over and over
A great concept in terms of editing, but a little tired of hearing it over and over

As I work my way through the hack-n-slash editing phase of the western, it’s getting easier and easier to cut something and not worry about if I’ve made the right decision.

Whole scenes, parts of scenes and lines of dialogue are wiped from existence, all with a positive result. Tighter scene(s), better flow of story, all creating a stronger efficiency of words.

Added bonus – script is already 5 pages shorter, and still have Act 3 to go.

(Counter to all of this cutting, placeholders have been identified as potential chances to add in a few lines for some character development.)

Re-reading this script has also made me realize how much I overwrite, especially with dialogue. I try to avoid extra verbage, but don’t see that’s what’s happened until long afterward. By then, it seems more like padding, so out it goes.

A lot of writers are hesitant to cut material or make drastic edits. They just can’t bring themselves around to killing their darlings, because they figure everything is just right the way it is.

Nope.

As much as you like that scene or dialogue, you have to be as objective as possible about your own work. Is it absolutely vital to the story and advance it in the best way possible? If you took it out, would it make any difference whatsoever, or at least have some kind of impact on the story?

I’d venture probably not.

Don’t be afraid to put that red pen to work and cut away! The pain of having to do so is minimal at best and lasts all of a microsecond or two. It’s more than likely that the next time you read through what you’re working on now, you won’t even notice its absence, probably not remember it ever being there and hopefully think “Wow, this draft seems a lot better.”

Fall back. Regroup. Hit ’em again.

Disappointed? Sure. Defeated? Never.
Disappointed? Sure. Disillusioned? A little. Defeated? Never.

Oh, what a week this has been.

The first round of the Nicholl Fellowship competition is complete. The quarterfinalists have been named, as well as those who placed in the top 10, 15 and 20 percent of all entries.

Regrettably, my western fell into the latter-most category. In some ways, that’s not too bad. Obviously not was I was hoping for, but at least worth noting.

It goes without saying that while there may still be hope for the script in the handful of other contests I entered this year, it’s also safe to say I should probably expect similar results.

But here’s the silver lining to all of this. I sent the script out, thinking it was ready. Since then, I’ve received lots of great feedback about how it could be improved – tighten this, work on that, etc. – and more is on the way.

This script was pretty good before. With a little more work, it could be fantastic.

I’ll be dividing my time between that and the rewrite of the mystery-comedy spec, of which I will definitely seek out professional feedback (Lesson learned here – after I think a script is good to go, I’ll spring for 1-2 sets of pro analysis. Definitely worth it.)

The silver lining to all of this: there’s no reason I couldn’t have two scripts ready to go for next year. Three if I really push myself with the pulpy adventure spec, but that might be overreaching.

Movie of the Moment – YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN (1974) One of K’s favorites, so we watched it as a family. V liked some of the jokes in the beginning, but her interest waned as it went on.

As for me, still holds up as one of the best comedies ever. Smart, funny and a cornucopia of quotable dialogue.

Not done just yet

Made one of these to ease my pain. Ate one piece, gave the rest to coworkers
Made one of these to ease my pain. Ate one piece, gave the rest to coworkers

No matter what level of success a writer has achieved, they are always learning.

Or at least they should be.

So far, my western is 0 for 2 in the competitions I’ve entered, at least in terms of making it past the first round.

Once I got past the initial shock and heartbreak, I took a more analytical approach – why was I not getting the results I was hoping for?

The most logical and practical explanation – the script isn’t as perfect as I thought. It needed fixing.

But what to fix?

(I’ve no inflated sense of ability. I know what I’m good and not-so good at, and expertly analyzing a script falls into the latter category)

So I did what any sensible writer would do – I sought out help from those in the know.  People who write for a living, or advise other writers on how to improve their material.

I asked if they’d take a look at the script at their convenience, let me know what they thought about it, what worked and what needed work. Constructive criticism, not praise, was my objective.

Let’s not say the results were eye-opening, but more like “oh, I see.”

The two most frequent comments were to trim the page count down (many conceded the current 132, while a very fast read, would initially be off-putting to potentially interested parties) and to flesh out the main character a little bit more.

As I said to one person, tough but not impossible assignments.

My biggest mistake was thinking the script was good to go, when what I should have done at that point was get this kind of advice, make the fixes and then do the whole contest and query circuits.  Something to remember for next time.

So for now, another rewrite is in store, which is totally fine.  Anything to make it better.

Sometimes it’s too tempting to finish a project and declare it ready. That’s when your internal editor/critic needs to stand up and ask “Are you absolutely sure about that?”

Make sure you listen to them.

They don’t call it a climax for nothing

Couldn't make this any more Freudian without going NSFW
Couldn’t make this any more Freudian without going NSFW

As the events of Act Three of the pulpy adventure spec outline slowly develop, it’s becoming more clear that retroactive edits/fixes/tweaks will be necessary for parts of Acts One and Two.

Act Three goes beyond making sure each of the main characters has something to do.  The actions they take should be tied directly into the main story, represents them overcoming their own personal obstacles and wraps up their individual storyline, all in the most satisfying way possible.

Hence the need to go back and make those changes. The more I can set up and effectively reinforce each character’s storyline, the better the payoff will be, both for them and the overall story.

I’ve always stressed the importance of setups and payoffs throughout a script. Everything we’ve seen in Acts One and Two should come to its appropriate conclusion in Act Three.

I’ve read a lot of amateur specs where something is set up early on and ends up either totally forgotten, treated as an afterthought or pays off with less of an impact than it should.

This is what you’ve been building up to for the past 90-plus pages.

Don’t let us down.

Go ahead. Try to stop reading.

pageturner
Absolutely nothing is going to divert my attention from this.

As a screenwriter working on making it as a professional, that’s been the underlying message for every one of my scripts.

I strive to create stories so involving, compelling and entertaining that each one immediately sucks you in and grabs your attention to the point where you have no desire whatsoever to stop reading.

You need to find out what happens next.

This is what I want when I read somebody else’s script, and it’s definitely what I aim for when I write mine.

Throughout the entire process of putting a story together, from the first spark of an idea to finishing the so-many-I’ve-lost-count rewrite, it’s a goal we’re consistently seeking to reach.

Being as objective as possible, take a look at your latest draft. How does it make you feel? Do the pages zoom by, move at a snail’s pace or just kind of plod along?

Does reading it excite you? Make you want to keep going? Can you easily visualize what’s happening?

Do the characters seem so developed that you actually care about what happens to them?

Always be challenging yourself as a writer. “Is this the best it can be?” “How can this be better?” “Would I pay to see this?”

You want your script to be irresistible, so do what it takes and put in the effort to make it that way.

Anybody can tell a story, but only the truly dedicated are willing to devote the time to learn how to tell it in the most effective way possible.