That moment of clarity

Don't you love when these show up?
Don’t you love when these show up?

I’ve always said that with each draft of every script I work on, my writing gets a little bit better. Definitely a “learn as you go” scenario.

If you looked at my earlier work, you’d probably say it was pretty basic. Very straightforward. Average. With the later stuff, you’d see improvement. Better, but still some room to grow.

Among the helpful comments I received regarding the previous draft of my western was “give us more flair in the prose…make the details a bit more colorful.”

This can be a trap a lot of writers fall into. You want your writing to be vivid and descriptive, but it’s easy to overdo it and before you know it, the storytelling overshadows your actual story.

Since I started the rewrite, I’ve been doing my best to maintain an equal balance of both so the story is told in an entertaining way and easy for a reader to visualize what’s happening. If they feel like they’re actually there, experiencing it along with the characters, then I’m doing a good job.

Working on an action sequence earlier this week, I was struggling to come up with the best way to describe the events as they played out. Ordinary words weren’t cutting it, and the ever-present thesaurus wasn’t offering much help either. I knew what I wanted to say, but couldn’t come up with the right way to say it.

You can describe how something happens, but is it strong enough to hold somebody’s attention? Is there a “more colorful” way to say it? How could you add “more flair”?

If I were reading this, what would make me want to keep going? What would compel me to want to know what happens next?

Since this is, at its heart, my take on a pulp story, I decided to embrace that aspect and run with it. I mean really run. Let loose and color those words in the perfect shade of purple.

To say it made a difference is putting it mildly.

Words and descriptions that refused to make themselves known before were sprouting up left and right. This was exactly how I imagined the sequence and exactly how it should be written.

A key point to remember in all of this is that this is what works for me. Your writing and your style are totally your own, and only you can find the best way to do it.

I won’t say that everything from here on in for me will be as easy or productive, but it’s definitely a change for the better, and I for one am looking forward to seeing the end result.

 

 

Unstoppable force, say hi to immovable object

There is something in this man's way
There is something in this man’s way

Pop quiz time!

Apart from advancing the story, theme and character development, what is the one key component every scene should contain?

Okay. Pencils down.

A big ol’ piece of pie to everybody who said “conflict”. Without it, your script’s on a one-way trip to Boringtown.

I recently became involved in a discussion with a starting-out writer who asked about the best way to describe how a sequence in his script could play out. After looking at the source material (based on true events), I said if he only writes what happens, there won’t be any drama to it. It needs conflict.

“Conflict how?” he asked.

That’s what it come down to, isn’t it? A lot of newer writers hear “conflict”, and they immediately think two characters are supposed to be arguing. Sometimes that might apply, but it’s not necessarily what it means.

Conflict is two opposing forces going up against each other, and those two forces could be anything (within the limits of your story, of course). Most of the time, one side will be your character and the other will be something or someone standing in their way of achieving their goal, be it immediate or overall.

Which would you rather watch? A story where everything goes just fine for the main character, or one where they’re always dealing with some kind of problem?

One of the great things about conflict is that it can come in any shape or form.

“What if a character opens a window?” was the follow-up question. “Where’s the conflict there?”

There isn’t any. If you’re reading a script and get to a scene that only involves a person opening a window, you’d think “What purpose does this serve?” and tell the writer to cut it.

The conflict would be if it won’t open. There’s a story there. Your curiosity is piqued. Questions are raised. Why won’t it open? Why do they want it open? What are they willing to do to get it open? What’ll happen after they get it open?

Conflict helps move the story forward. Part of our jobs as writers is to come up with new, original and imaginative ways to portray that conflict. The way I have the character open that window is probably totally different than how you would.

Even the central question of your story shows conflict: Will the main character achieve their goal?

While you work on your latest draft, take the time to examine each scene, even the ones only a line or two long. Is there conflict of some sort?

If there is, great. If not, you need to get some in there.

Beginning anew

blackboard
The next necessary step to moving forward

 

Hi there. Nice to be back. And to all you new readers out there – welcome! Feel free to take a look around.

When last we spoke, I was about to embark on a major rewrite of two outlines.

One of them is just about finished, while the other is somewhere in the early parts of Act 2.

Neither has been easy.

The toughest obstacle to overcome has been hanging on so tightly to that which has come before. Significant changes have to be made, or there’s no point to the rewrite.

This isn’t to say I’m totally disregarding what I’ve already written. For example, in a previous draft, a character is killed in a certain way. In this new one, the same method of killing is used, but for a totally different character in a different scenario, and it now holds a lot more significance in terms of the overall story.

While you can’t force yourself to come up with new ideas, you can challenge your creativeness by simply asking “What’s already here is good, but what’s another way this could happen?” There are always options and choices. Don’t limit yourself. Have fun with it.

Another benefit to these rewrites is since I have a fairly strong grasp of how the stories are supposed to play out, I can now concentrate on building up character development (something pointed out and recommended by several note-givers), which also allows for some beneficial quiet and revealing moments between rousing action sequences.

As much as I enjoyed coming up with a lot of those sequences, several have been cut in order to focus more on the characters. I’ll miss them, but they had to go (and could be possibly be resurrected for future use, as mentioned above).

Results so far have been encouraging, but I won’t really know until actual pages get written.

Corny as it may sound, letting yourself develop new ideas and approaches really is quite liberating. And the more you do it, the easier it gets.

 

Finding the positive in a negative

 

Converting something acidic to tasty and refreshing requires a little bit of knowing how
Converting potentially acidic to tastily refreshing requires a little bit of knowing how

Notes on both my western and mystery-comedy specs have been flowing in steadily from friends and trusted colleagues over the past couple of months, and the results have certainly been a mixed bag of opinions.

The general message is “Love the concept, solid structure, but ____, ____ and ____ needs work.” The individual comments, of course, are much more assorted. Happily, none are of the “This sucks! Do the world a favor and give up writing!” nature.

Show the same material to half a dozen people, and you’ll end up with half a dozen different reactions. And as you would expect, each one is helpful in its own way, especially if it includes something you may not necessarily agree with.

But here’s where it gets even better – take all of those notes and use the ones that you think make the most sense. Apply them to your script. Does it immediately read better?

Now let’s take it a step further, but this time with those comments you don’t agree with. What is about them that doesn’t work for you? Give ’em another look. Maybe there’s something in there worth using.

I got some great notes on the western, and one of the suggestions was cutting or at least shortening some sequences in Act Two. Of course, my initial reaction was “Not a chance!”

But this was defeating the whole purpose of getting notes – to make the script better. And me being so obstinate about it wasn’t helping.

So I read it again, this time with a more open mind. Would this work? Would it accomplish what I needed it to? The suggestion started to make sense. I’d already cut 12 pages out of this thing, so there was no reason I couldn’t trim a few scenes down. It wouldn’t hurt the story, and could actually improve it in terms of moving things along.

You get notes to help point out what’s wrong with your script, or at least what needs to be fixed. You can use them however you want, but to totally disregard them isn’t doing you any favors.

Getting my fair share of yays and nays

Always the case
Reactions will always be mixed

Details about the low-budget comedy have been kept under wraps because I wanted to develop the story some more before pitching it to my final-say editor. If she liked it, then it’s good to go.

She did. Quite enthusiastically.

So now it’s all about coming up with potential scenes and sequences, then reorganizing them to tell the story in the best and funniest ways possible.

I’ve gone back and forth about how much information to disclose, but realize it would be better to at least offer up some minimal details.

So here it is.

Working title: An Angel Walks Into A Bar…

“After literally dying onstage, a caustic comedian’s only shot at afterlife redemption is to fix three of the many lives he’s ruined.”

This stems from the “What if…?” question of “What if a Don Rickles-like comedian was your guardian angel?”

I like the concept, think it’s pretty original and see lots of potential within the story. I’ve got a primary storyline and three subplots, all of which are inter-connected. It’s a bit of a challenge to put together, but that’s part of the appeal.

Just to test the waters, I posted the logline on a few online forums. Comments ranged from “Sounds fantastic!” to “Who are these three people? Why them?” Some read like they’re ticking items off a Screenwriting 101 checklist (“You don’t have ____, so it’s no good.”)

The one that really threw me was the claim that you could replace “comedian” with another occupation and it would still be the same story. Everyone’s entitled to their opinion, but I heartily disagree. A proctologist, maybe, but not much else.

It all comes down to either you like the logline and it makes you want to see the movie, or you don’t and it doesn’t.

Honestly, I really need to stop posting on these forums. I’ve got a pretty solid network of trusted writer colleagues with more experience and whose opinions I put more value in than the anonymous members of the internet community.

So it looks like I’ll be keeping busy for the time being with this and the rewrites of the western and the mystery-comedy.

Updates as things develop.