You mind running that by me again?

 

What we seek is somewhere between these two
Top choice is too much, while the bottom is too little

Pop quiz!

Pick any high-profile, mainstream popcorn summer movie from the past 10-15 years, and explain, in as few sentences as possible, how the story unfolds.

This doesn’t mean provide a logline; this is about having a plot that’s easy to understand.

Okay. Pencils down.

There’s been a disturbing trend of overstuffing a story and bombarding the audience with just too much information. It’s gotten to the point that a lot of the time, the details we need to know get lost in big expositional info-dumps, which makes us struggle to follow along, or at least keep up.

Who hasn’t had a lot of questions about the movie they just watched, but those questions are more along the lines of “What happened?”  You want somebody to want to watch your story again because they want to relive the great time they had the first time around, not because they seek answers.

I could list several recent major releases that had too many elements which simply made it less of an experience to watch them. Sometimes the details made no sense, or the explanations behind them weren’t adequate enough. If I have to go back and think about something from earlier on, then everything that came after that doesn’t have my full attention, which makes me not enjoy it as much.

Is it really too much to ask that a story be kept relatively simple to understand? This doesn’t mean to dumb things down.  It is possible to write a smart story with simple details. One of the many reasons certain older films still hold up is because they are smartly-written stories told in a simple, straightforward manner.

THIS is what has to happen, and THIS is how we get there. Of course you’re going to throw in complications, but that doesn’t mean you make it overly complicated.

It’s very tempting to want to show off your writing skills and keep adding stuff into your story, but that usually results in just too much going on.

There’s a big difference between throwing everything at the wall and seeing what sticks and carefully plotting out what happens.

Keep things simple when telling us what we need to know, and leave it at that.

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.

Active, not reactive – OR – C’mon, do something!

Never has a call to action been more necessary
Never has a call to action been more necessary

As you work your way through your latest draft, among the numerous questions to keep in mind is “Is my main character the one driving things forward?”

It’s a common complaint: a protagonist who is too passive. How do you make sure they aren’t?

Start with this: Do they make things happen or just react to them?

Your story is about this character going through some ordeal as they try to achieve their goal. Are they taking the steps needed and doing what they have to in order to do that?

Their normal routine has most likely been drastically altered. How are they reacting to all these changes while trying to get things back to normal?

How does the character factor into each scene? Are they having some kind of impact? Does the outcome of each scene depend on them? Does what they do here get them closer to reaching their goal?

A scene can be about them even if they’re not part of it. Maybe it’s the other characters’ reactions or the ramifications of what they’ve done.

You don’t want a main character who just sits around, waiting for things to happen. Get them out there and throw them right into the thick of it.

What it’s about, not what happens

bttf theme

A usual part of my daily routine is helping V with her homework. This week, they’re learning about how to identify the theme of a story.

Nothing like starting with the basics.

After reading the one-page story together, I asked her what she thought the theme was. Her response was more focused on one part of the story, rather than the whole thing, so I tried another approach.

“What’s the message of the story? What is it trying to teach us?”

That made things clearer to her, which made finding the theme of the next day’s story a little easier (with a little guidance from me).

This of course made me think about finding, or at least knowing, the theme of the story of your script.

Some writers start writing and figure out the theme later. I’m the total opposite of that. I don’t think I could even start on the outline if I didn’t at least have an idea of what the theme was.

A lot of the time it’s just a single word or a short phrase, but it still plays a key part in putting my story together.

Knowing the theme of your story is vital; it influences how the story’s told and what it’s about. If you don’t know what your story’s really about, how can you put the rest of it together? That would be like doing a jigsaw puzzle without knowing what the final picture is.

A great example of a theme on display is BACK TO THE FUTURE. Look at the dialogue exchange in the picture up top, which takes place just a few minutes in. Jump forward to Act Two, where, after all the setup in Act One, we get to see how history does indeed change, all thanks to Marty. (Just another reason why this is a phenomenally bulletproof script)

So as you work on your latest draft, take a look at each scene, even if it’s just a few lines long. Does it advance the story, the characters and the theme?

If so, great and keep up the good work. If not, take a moment to figure out what could be changed so it does.

Once you learn how to do this, hopefully your writing process will be just a little bit easier.

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.