A leaky faucet can be just as good as opened floodgates

faucet
All those drips can really add up

We’ve all got busy schedules, so finding time to write can be quite the challenge.

One writer I know says he waits until his kids go to sleep. Another one gets up early and writes until he has to start getting ready for his day job.

Since I work unusual hours, my prime writing time is mid-afternoon before I head out to take care of Dad stuff.

For the past couple of weeks, circumstances have limited me to about an hour, which has been very productive. My goal on days like this is to write at least one page; two if I’m on a roll, and this is what usually happens.

But working within a set time limit has also been surprisingly liberating. Knowing you’re only producing one or two scenes really takes the pressure off, and removing that part of the equation can definitely yield positive results.

Just as an example, I had to come up with a new way to have a scene play out because it was way too similar to one earlier in the story. Since it was the last of a handful of small scenes I was doing that day, I knew I’d be done when the scene was done.

A few minutes later, that’s what happened.

Not worrying about the time allowed me to really focus on what I had to do, and since I already knew what the point of the scene was, it wasn’t too hard to come up with a solution.

The more you work at it, the easier it’ll get to be productive, even if it’s only a page or two at a time.

Getting around the mental roadblock

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This might take some figuring out

Wouldn’t you know it? There I am, being all productive and cranking out pages, when I suddenly decide “There’s got to be a better/shorter way to do this sequence,” and out it goes.

All I need to do now is compress the purpose of that sequence into one, maybe two scenes, and my machine-like output can continue.

Ah, if it were only that easy.  Arm-in-arm with Elvis, my creativeness has apparently left the building.

Sucks, doesn’t it?

I don’t hate writer’s block. I loathe it. I despise it.  My dislike for it burns with the intensity of a thousand suns all on the verge going supernova. The frustration of wanting to write something, but not being able to.

If there was a valuable ceramic piece within my reach, it would definitely be flung at the opposite wall.

And to make things worse, I know how this part starts and ends; it’s all the stuff that happens in the middle that’s giving me so much trouble.

But there’s not much to be accomplished with all this bitching, moaning and overall kvetching.

This requires taking a step back, a few deep breaths, patience and clear-headedness.  I’ve worked my way through this type of situation before (sometimes even with better-than-expected results), and hopefully this time will not be an exception.

But I still don’t like when this happens.

-Movie of the Moment – ffolkes (aka NORTH SEA HIJACK) (1979). A tight, compact thriller reminiscent of DIE HARD, even though this one came almost a decade earlier, and the main character (portrayed by having-a-ball Roger Moore) is a misogynistic, sociopathic cat-loving jerk who of course is the best at what he does, which is training commandos.

I vaguely remember seeing this on TV way back when and obviously it stuck with me. When I saw that it was on Netflix streaming, I made a point of rewatching it to see if it held up.

Apart from some cheesy guitar riffs here and there, absolutely. Nothing too fancy and maybe a little predictable at times, but still smart, gripping and intense. With a running time of 1:48, this thing really moves.

A sure sign of the times – this was rated PG! I honestly thought it would have been an R (since PG-13 wasn’t around yet). A shocking revelation at first, but there’s not that much actual violence in it; it’s the subject matter that makes the difference. Can you imagine a movie about terrorists holding a multi-billion-dollar oil platform hostage being released now with a PG rating?

Exactly.

Definitely worth seeing.

Sticking to a bare-bones minimum

Start with this, add all the messy complicated stuff later
Start with this, add all the messy complicated stuff later

The semi-regular routine of working my way through the first draft has resumed, with some slight readjustments.

The original practice of fine-tuning the story in the outline stage still stands, and is one I heartily recommend.  But there’s only so much you can do here, and then it’s onto typing actual pages. This is where things start to get more complicated, and you have to be ready to handle it.

A lot of scenes in my outline are very basic in describing what happens, almost to the point of just saying what the purpose of the scene is. Then when it’s time to write the scene in the script, I have to figure out the best way to present it.

It’s a given the scene has to be fleshed out. There are always going to be necessary details to take care of, and it’s easy to lose your focus and concentration. Then you get frustrated, which is totally counter-productive.

So rather than worry about whether what you’re writing is perfect, remind yourself this is just a first (or early) draft. Nothing is written in stone. It doesn’t have to be perfect; just written.

It’s all about being patient and working your way through the stages. First there was the outline. Then the first draft. When that’s done, the next draft, then the next and so on and so on.

Besides, writing is rewriting, remember?

What I’ve tried to do is be very basic about what transpires in the scene based on how it’s described in the outline. As much as I’d like to spend time making it absolutely perfect, once I have something that works for now, I move on, knowing I’ll be back again soon for another try.

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.

Pedal to the metal

It may be kmph, but it's still fast
It may be kmph, but it’s still fast

Nice to be back. Didja miss me?

Y’know, visiting three major metropolitan areas in a week (four if you count the one where I started and ended AKA home) can really tire a guy out.

So while I work on readjusting to my native time zone, I’m also working on getting some writing-related affairs in order.

-Due to a last-minute family medical emergency, my manager had to cancel our face-to-face meeting. Bummer. And his assistant was up to his eyeballs in reducing his steadily-growing workload, so he couldn’t meet either. Double bummer.

Fortunately, there is a silver lining: I got emails from both the next day about the rewrite. Overall: great job, nice scene changes and choices, very solid structure.

Up next – a “high-octane” logline and synopsis. Although I’ve always had problems with the latter, I really like the sound of that particular adjective.

“High-octane.”  Sounds fast, powerful and strong.

This is a fast-moving script with lots of swashbuckling action, so that’s the mood my 1-2 sentence description and 1-pager should convey.

The logline and synopsis are your best chances to really showcase what your story’s about, but letting the genre do the heavy lifting. Comedy – play up the jokes. Thriller – keep us in suspense. Horror – scare us.

In my case – adventure – both logline and synopsis should give you an idea of what kind of rollercoaster ride you’re in for.

I’ve written before about what a solid logline should include, but just in case: hero with a flaw, villain with a goal, the conflict between the two, and what’s at stake.

The synopsis has always given me trouble. It’s easy to get lost trying to accurately describe the story. You want to include all the cool stuff, but you can’t.  As a result, here’s a tip I’ve found very, very helpful: focus on the main character and their storyline. Don’t worry about the subplots and supporting characters.

Although it comes from publishing, this may be a huge help for those also struggling with the synopsis.

You’d think after tackling a 100+-page script, writing the same story in one page would be easy. But it isn’t.

But it is doable. Like for a script or any kind of writing, you just have to work at it.