Rediscovery within the idea factory

Where output is a 24/7 operation
Where output is a 24/7 operation

Where do you keep your collection of story ideas? A folder stashed away somewhere in your home office? A notebook tucked away on a bookshelf?  A flash drive lost amidst the clutter on that messy desk you keep telling yourself you’re going to eventually get around to cleaning?

No matter where it is, hopefully you still have it and have been contributing to it all this time.  The stuff you came up with way back when with the intention of getting back to it someday.

When was the last time you looked at any of them?  How much did you work on this or that before moving on?

It might just be a title, a logline, or a single paragraph. Take a closer look. How do they read now?

Does your mind still race about the possibilities of what could happen? Do you read it and think “I barely (or don’t) remember writing any of this,” or (hopefully) “This is a lot better than I remember.” Do you make a mental note that this has to be your next project?

Sometimes the ideas we come up with are better than we realize. The initial effort might not be what we’re hoping for, but  the idea or concept behind it is so strong – that’s what really appeals to us; it really drives us and motivates us to explore it further. Some may jump right into reworking it, while others file it away – “I’ll hold on to this.”

Maybe all you really needed were time and experience. Aren’t we all better writers than we were, say, a year or two ago?

Last week I wrote about working on two projects. While I wait for feedback on each in their current state, I turned my attention to the outline of a story I came up with about five or six years ago.

Much to my surprise, there were two outlines: the original, and then a semi-rewrite from two years after that. I skimmed through both. I prefer the second one, but there are definitely elements from the first I can incorporate into a new version.

There’s nothing like finding some of your old material and not just enjoying it, but seeing its potential and looking forward to working on it.

(As much as I’d like to add this into the mix, it’s probably better to not overdo it. I’ll focus on the other two, then move on to this one.)

So dig around and find your ideas from days gone by. You might even be surprised and potentially impressed with what you find.

The fat that must be trimmed

Personally, I prefer a red pen and the 'delete' key
Personally, I prefer a red pen and the ‘delete’ key

Steadily working my way through the coveted territory of Act 3, although the wrapping-up of some subplots still needs some work. Nothing I can’t handle.

Throughout this whole process has been an ongoing tinkering with what was there before. Some items have been cut (necessarily so) while some have been expanded (also necessarily so).

Among what had been cut were a trio of characters who only existed in a handful of scenes in the third act. The only reason they were originally around was to provide conflict with the main character, but didn’t really serve much else of a purpose.

So they’ve been cut, with another character’s part slightly modified and expanded to take their place.

This goes way beyond killing one’s darlings. It’s about making the story as lean and streamlined as possible, and if that means cutting characters, scenes or even sequences, so be it.  You do what’s necessary.

But this is also where it can get tricky. How do you know what should stay and what should go?

Unfortunately, there’s no easy answer. But you can learn by constantly writing, rewriting and getting feedback. It’s a skill that takes time to develop, so don’t rush it.

(You could read scripts, but those are often the finished product. You won’t know what it looked like before.)

A good rule of thumb: ask yourself as you write and edit – “How much of a difference will it make to the story if I take this out?”

Chances are once you make those cuts, you won’t even miss what’s been taken out, which means it probably shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

-A total self-indulgent announcement: I ran the San Jose Rock & Roll Half Marathon on Sunday, thinking there was no way I could beat my previous best time ever of 1:53:07, set back in August.

But somehow, despite warm weather and the occasional feeling of “Jeez, when is this going to end?”, I shaved almost 2 minutes off and finished at 1:51:11. Totally didn’t see that coming.

With no races scheduled in the near future, I don’t want to get ahead of myself and even consider the possibility of hitting 1:50.

Although I’ll admit the thought does occasionally cross my mind.

We all had to start somewhere

And....go!
And….we’re off!

Today’s topic: your very first script.

Yeah, that one. The one you’re embarrassed to even remember. The one with all the rookie mistakes.

The one that set you on this journey.

Here’s mine.

Title:   THE CRIMSON CLOAK

Genre: Comedy

What it was about: Set in 1950’s Hollywood, a writer on a popular kids TV show mistakenly believes the sponsor is going to kill a megastar live on the air and goes all out to stop him.

Tell-tale signs this is a first script? Way, way too much expository dialogue, including a lot of on-the-nose lines. Flimsy character motivation. A lot of writing-directing.

Would you be willing to rewrite it now? Definitely.

Addendum: Despite all of the problems this script had, it managed to be a top 10 percent finisher in the Nicholl for that year. I have no idea how that happened, but this, combined with a professional writer telling me “You’re a very talented writer,” were a great start to my writing career.

What about you?  Don’t be shy. No judging here.

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.