So glad I didn’t listen to myself

How I originally intended to start this writing session
How I originally intended to approach this rewrite

Since it really has been years since I last looked at my mystery-comedy spec, and not wanting to be too heavily influenced by what I’d written before, I figured this rewrite would be completely fresh. A clean slate. Blank page from the get-go. A whole new ball of wax.

I sit at my desk, all set to open those floodgates. My notebook’s open to this new set of plot points, ready to be fleshed out. Pandora cranks out the sounds of the Rat Pack and the 50s jazz club scene (appropriate mood music for the story’s setting). A hot cup of joe within reach. Overall, a perfect writing scenario.

So what thought immediately pops into my head?

Yep. I’m gonna check out what I wrote before. But just out of curiosity. It’s not like I’m going to keep the whole story. Besides, it’ll be interesting to see how far my writing’s come since then.

This is also why you should never, ever throw away old material. You never know when you might come back to it.

I open the 1-pager. Okay, I remember this part. Wait. I don’t remember that. Whoa, where did that come from? Wow, this is a lot more detailed than I remember.

Finishing that, I automatically wonder how the script reads. A few scenes stick out in my memory, but most of it is long forgotten.

I’ll just take a look at the first few pages. Promise.

Hmm. Not as bad as I thought. Some of the dialogue is a little too on-the-nose. Too many adverbs. Character descriptions could be better. Some good set-ups I instantly recall how they pay off. This subplot’s a little weak.

A quick glance to the upper right corner to see what page I’m on. 26 already? Hokey smokes, this thing is flying by.

By now I feel almost obligated to finish reading it. 35 minutes later, I did.

The overall consensus: still needs a lot of work, but a much more solid foundation to start with and there are some ideas I’d like to incorporate. It’s kind of reassuring to know I’ve already taken care of a lot of the heavy lifting.

A few days ago, I was concerned this was going to be a real slog, but now – not so much.

Hardhats required beyond this point

Safety goggles are optional, but typing in work gloves is darned near impossible
Safety goggles are optional, but typing in work gloves is darned near impossible

This is a time of overlap, chums.

The final wrap-up of the western spec draws closer, despite realizing a new wrinkle – I need to show what happens to one of my supporting characters, rather than tossing that info out via a line of dialogue. This will also require a little set-up somewhere in the latter half of Act Two, but I think I’ve found a good spot for it.  Then off it goes into the digital waiting room that is my hard drive.

As that door closes, the one into the rewrite of the mystery-comedy spec reopens. As much as I’d like to really jump into it, this is definitely going to require baby steps and lots and lots of planning. Since it’s been a very long time since I read it, I opted to start completely fresh, which meant figuring out my plot points.

I can’t recommend this enough. It doesn’t matter if you’re starting a new story or rewriting an old one: KNOW YOUR PLOT POINTS!

You know that expression about how a screenplay is like a blueprint for a building? Think of the plot points as the load-bearing support beams that hold everything up. Without them, everything will come crashing down.

So get yourself a blank page and, based on how well you know your story, jot down the following:

page 3 – statement of theme. You may not know it when you start, but having a general idea about it can help shape the story AND influence each scene
page 10 – inciting incident. Serves multiple purposes – gets your main story started, shakes up your protagonist’s world, raises the main question of the story
page 17 – a little twist in the action that continues to push your protagonist out of their comfort zone
Act 1 turning point – your protagonist enters a totally new environment; the main story question is once again raised
page 45 – another twist for your protagonist
Midpoint/Point of No Return – your protagonist becomes fully committed to achieving their goal
page 75 – another twist (yes, seems redundant, but each one of these has to make things harder for your protagonist)
Act 2 turning point – ALL IS LOST. Looks like your protagonist has no chance whatsoever of reaching their goal
Climax – your protagonist starts to turn things around, leading to a final showdown with the antagonist
Resolution – main story and assorted subplots are tied up
Denouement – how the protagonist’s life is different now

(For some great examples of these from well-known films, check out Dave Trottier’s THE SCREENWRITER’S BIBLE.)

Something else to keep in mind – MAKE SURE YOUR PROTAGONIST IS THE ONE DRIVING THE ACTION! Why would we be interested in a passive main character who just reacts to things, or even worse, does nothing at all?  Your protagonist should always have to go with the harder of two choices – don’t look for the easy way out.

Don’t get frustrated if you can’t figure it all out right away. You’re creating an original story, which isn’t easy to begin with. Take your time and think your way through it at your own pace.  Ask yourself “What’s the best way to get from HERE to HERE?”

Once you know your plot points, then it’s on to the fun stuff: filling in the spaces between them.

Simple now, fancy-schmancy later

What? This isn't what you wear when you're writing?
What? This isn’t what you wear when you’re writing?

Right now, it’s all about finishing the first draft of this spec. Just get it done. Hopefully this momentous event will occur sometime in the next couple of days.

The script as a whole will of course need a lot of tweaking and reworking – it’s foolish to think otherwise – but it’s also important to get the words on the page to paint a strong mental picture. The more picturesque your text, the more vivid it becomes inside the reader’s mind.

Despite using the “write it now, fix it later” approach, I try to work with a wide variety of words, descriptions and phrases throughout to keep things interesting.  Remember – the thesaurus is your friend. Use it wisely.

Changes will be made where necessary in forthcoming drafts. It’s more than likely a word or sentence will be modified several times, then changed back to what it originally was. This happens all the time.

As this draft was put together, the words that met my needs at the time were used. Are there ones that work better, or at least do a better job of conveying the intended mood?  Without a doubt, but rather than spend too much time now to come up with the perfect word or phrase, I’m more interested in maintaining that nice, steady momentum.  There’ll be time to spruce it up later.

You can have great language in your wide margins or dialogue, but it all boils down to this: if the story’s not rock-solid, the whole thing will fall apart.

I was especially reminded about this listening to a recent episode of Scriptnotes. One of the entries in the Three Page Challenge featured the colorful phrase describing a room:  “A dragon’s lair of treasures.” Nice, huh?

I don’t know if the writers had that in there from Day One, but it’s definitely not something I would have come up with the first time around. It’s not hard to imagine this is the result of a little brainstorming. It’s short, descriptive and effective.

Don’t worry about getting it all perfect when you start. That’s what rewrites are for.

Make that sprawling epic a little less so

There can be such a thing as too much
There can be such a thing as too much

An underrated bonus of working on a first draft is having the freedom to put in just about anything you think will work (provided, of course, it advances the plot, story and character development).

There will be the inevitable edits and rewrites afterward, but this is your chance to take that outline and really build on it.

But it’s also easy to overdo it.

All that witty dialogue, intricate scene descriptions or clever subplot you just thought up can quickly add up without you realizing it, and suddenly your tight, compact story has become a bloated, overstuffed mess.

Scripts usually run 90-120 pages – one page equals one minute of screen time. Does yours fall somewhere in that range? Anything more or less, and you’ve got some work to do.

If you ask somebody to read your script, one of the first things they’ll do is check out how long it is. 97 pages? Cool. 137? Unless you’re an award-winning filmmaker, not so cool.

“But there’s nothing I can cut!” you exclaim.

Wanna bet?

Once you’re done with your current draft, don’t look at it for at least a week; two would be better. Put it away and walk away. Focus on something else.

Then come back and just read it.  No editing, just reading.  Still think there’s nothing you can do with it?

Now the fun begins.  Go through it and really scrutinize each scene.

Is it absolutely crucial to the story? If so, can it be shorter?

All that great stuff you came up with on the fly – does it still work?

It may be tough at first to kill all those darlings, but more than likely, you won’t even miss them after they’re gone.

If you want to be a better writer, you have to learn how to not let your ego and emotions dictate your edits. In the end, both your script and writing skills will be the better for it.

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.