Gun the engine, pop the clutch and let ‘er go!

Ah, the car chase. A film staple. And a fantastic opportunity for the writer to really let their imagination run wild.

Mine started with the short description in the outline “Chase! (2-3 scenes)”.

I knew how it was going to start, and how it was going to end. It was all that stuff in the middle I had to figure out.

Despite the story’s fantasy-like setting, I’ve made a point of trying to keep things as realistic as possible where applicable. This falls into that category.  No crazy cg effects or unbelievable stunts; just simple, basic and peppered with mad driving skills.

“But there’s only so much you can do with a chase scene,” you may think. And in some ways you’d be right, except there are countless ways to make things happen.

Break it down to the simplest elements – somebody’s trying to get away, somebody’s trying to stop them, and there are going to be obstacles in each one’s way.

The challenge is to think up ways for both to go about achieving their goal, as well as what can stop or prevent that from happening.

It’s not just about having a chase just for the hell of it or something that looks cool, but what makes the most sense and what fits in, plot-wise. Is there a way to make it feel it really belongs there and is connected to other parts of the story? If it means adding a little something to a previous scene, so be it.

Need a little inspiration? Go to YouTube and type in ‘car chase in movies’, or check out William Martell’s blog, which always includes a classic chase in the Thursday posts.

Most of all – please, please, please avoid tired cliches like the plate glass window, the fruit cart, the baby carriage and the large construction vehicle.

The health benefits of writing organically

I'm a much better writer than a gardener
Not necessarily THAT kind of organic

Getting closer to the end of the outline rewrite. I like how the story’s developing, and it definitely feels stronger than it did before. There are still some tweaks and adjustments to be made, but overall, it’s really coming together.

The last two words of the previous sentence are especially poignant, because as I modify the previous draft, it exposes some problems that need immediate fixing.

Occasionally, something would happen in an “all of a sudden”-type of way, mostly because I hadn’t set it up properly.  So I’ll go back to earlier in the story to see where it can.

If I can make it work, great. If not, what has to be changed so it still works on all the levels it’s supposed to?

You want your story to flow smoothly and not feel forced. Throwing something in out of left field not only disrupts the story, but is just lazy writing.

Each scene should continue what happened in the one before it, and lead into the one after it. One of the basic tenets that tends to get lost in the shuffle, especially among beginner writers.

Take the time to plan things out, and don’t be afraid to cut where necessary.

You also want to make sure the details of your story all mesh together. This applies not only to what happens in the story itself, but the world in which your story takes place.  Make it feel as authentic as possible. Part of our job as the writer is to convince the audience this kind of world could actually exist.

You have to do everything you can to ensure the story is fresh and original, stays interesting and keeps things moving. You may not think all those little details matter, but people will notice them (or lack of them).

Think of it as a story renovation project

This is kind of what it feels like
They’re the writers and the house is the first draft. See? It’s a visual metaphor!

When I started this rewrite, I wanted to really shake things up and take it beyond just putting on a new coat of paint and rearranging the furniture.

This had to be really different from what it already was. Major changes require major brainstorming and planning.

The starting point was breaking down the previous outline on a scene-by-scene basis. What worked? What didn’t?

One subplot has already been cut because it just didn’t mesh with the rest of it. A more suitable replacement has been developed, and not only does it still work for the story, it opened up more possibilities.

Each scene is still evaluated to determine how it advances the story as well as how it fits in to the plot.  Yes, some darlings must be killed as work progresses, but if they don’t serve a purpose that supports the overall story, then they weren’t needed in the first place. Maybe they can be reconfigured and used another way.

Working through all of this reminded me of a significant bonus to writing on a regular basis – your creativeness gets a constant workout, which has made it slightly easier than expected to come up with ideas of how to make a scene stronger or at least more effective.

And since this is a mystery, it’s extremely important that all the intricate details are in place. Clues and red herrings are in the process of being planted, a key factor of which is making sure their place in the puzzle is organic, and not shoehorned in.

Taking a steady, methodical approach to this has made it not as imposing as originally expected.

When I started this rewrite, I had the standard fear/concern that I wouldn’t be able to figure things out and come up with solutions.

Now, not so much.

Isn’t a rock a hard place to begin with?

Gotta pick one, but which one?
Gotta pick one, but which one?

Hard choices. That’s what it comes down to for your protagonist.

Someone in my old writing group put it very succinctly: each scene should force the protagonist so they have no choice but to go with the option that makes things harder for them.

If things were easy for your protagonist and everything went right for them, it wouldn’t be much of a story, would it?  We’d be bored silly.

It all stems from the necessary key word: conflict. Something must be opposing them reaching their goal.

This doesn’t mean it’s someone or something physically blocking them, although that is one option. It could be something out of nature, like a great white shark, a hurricane or a killer virus, or something from the grand scheme of the universe, like time, fear or silence.

One of the great things about conflict is there are countless ways to present it. It comes in all forms, but it really boils down to something in the scene (as well as the overall story) preventing your protagonist from moving things forward.

Taking it one step further, not only do you have to make sure they do, but they have to be the one doing it. Anything else is a cheat, and totally negates their development as a character.  Imagine if Dumbledore said, “Here’s a step-by-step list of what you have to do, Harry.” The mentor figure is there to guide the protagonist down the right path, not take the path for them.

The protagonist has to endure all of these conflicts in order to not only accomplish their goal, but grow or change from what they were when we first met them.

So go ahead and put ’em through the ringer. It’s the way it must be.

-I had the pleasure of doing an interview with Henry Sheppard, aka Adelaide Screenwriter. Check it out here.

The writing sprint: no training necessary

race
It’s not about speed; it’s how you handle the course

Finally, finally got to type in those illustrious words FADE OUT, which brings the first draft of the western spec to a satisfying close.

It’s very tempting to read it and see what needs work, but at this point, I’m opting to let it sit in hibernation while shifting the focus to the rewrite of the mystery-comedy.

While the previous draft is a more solid foundation than I thought, there are still some ideas I’m looking to incorporate.

Rather than jot a few down at a time, or hope inspiration hits every once in a while, I’m opting for a method that’s proven quite helpful in the past: the writing sprint.

Set aside 30 minutes. Just you and a blank page (paper or digital – doesn’t matter, although digital might be easier & faster to work with). Once that timer starts, write out scene ideas as fast as you can.  Don’t stop to think if they’re good or not. Just crank ’em out.

It’s not a bad thing to write what you already have, but maybe you’ll come up with something you never thought of, or suddenly hit on a solution to a problem that’s been bothering you.  Feel free to even take things a totally new direction. For now, there are no bad ideas.

It’s possible you could run out of gas before time runs out, but push yourself to keep going.

Once the 30 minutes is up, take a look at what you’ve got: a ton of (mostly) new material.

Pick and choose what works for you now, but make sure to hold on to the rest. Inspiration could hit from any of them, and you never know what might come in handy later.