How to write a scene
One of the thing I admire most about Jane Espenson’s blog is that she talks very directly about the words on the page, giving names to techniques I use but never really think about. The two-percenter, for example.
So one of my goals for 2007 is to get a little more granular in my advice-giving, and talk less about Screenwriting and more about screenwriting — in particular, scene writing.
Spend a few years as a screenwriter, and writing a scene becomes an almost unconscious process. It’s like driving a car. Most of us don’t think about the ignition and the pedals and the turn signals — but we used to, back when we were learning. It used to flummox the hell out of us. Every intersection was unbelievably stressful, with worries of stalling the car and/or killing everyone on board.
It’s the same with writing a scene. The first few are brutal and clumsy. But once you’ve written (and rewritten) say, 500 scenes, the individual steps sort of vanish. But they’re still there, under the surface. It’s just that your instinct is making a lot of the decisions your conscious brain used to handle.
So here’s my attempt to introspect and describe what I’m doing that I’m not even aware I’m doing. Here’s How to Write a Scene.
1. Ask: What needs to happen in this scene?
Many screenwriting books will tell you to focus on what the characters want. This is wrong. The characters are not responsible for the story. You are. If characters were allowed to control their scenes, most characters would chose to avoid conflict, and movies would be crushingly boring.
The question is not, “What could happen?” or “What should happen?” It is only, “What needs to happen?” If you wrote an outline, this is the time to look at it.1 If you didn’t, just come up one or two sentences that explain what absolutely must happen in the scene.
2. Ask: What’s the worst that would happen if this scene were omitted?
Imagine the projectionist screwed up and accidentally lopped off this scene. Would the movie still make sense? If the answer is “yes,” then you don’t really need the scene, and shouldn’t bother writing it.
But it’s so dramatic! you say. But it’s so funny!
Tough. Put that drama or that comedy into scenes that are crucial to the movie.2 One thing you learn after a few produced movies is that anything that can be cut will be cut, so put your best material into moments that will absolutely be there when it’s done.
3. Ask: Who needs to be in the scene?
Scripts are often clogged with characters who have no business being there. But because words are small, it’s easy to overlook that “Haversmith” hasn’t said or done anything for five pages. And sadly, sometimes that’s not realized until after filming.3
4. Ask: Where could the scene take place?
The most obvious setting for a scene is generally the least interesting, so don’t be too quick to set your scene in the police bullpen, a living room, or a parking garage. Always consider what the characters could be doing, even if it’s not directly related to the focus of the scene. A father-and-son bonding moment at a slaughter house will play differently than the same dialogue at a lawn bowling tournament.
5. Ask: What’s the most surprising thing that could happen in the scene?
Give yourself permission to step away from your outline and consider some wild possibilities. What if a car smashed through the wall? What if your hero choked and died? What if a young boy vomited up a finger?
Most of your scenes won’t have one of these out-of-nowhere aspects. But your movie needs to have a few moments that are completely unexpected, so always ask yourself, could this be one of them?
6. Ask: Is this a long scene or a short scene?
There’s nothing so dispiriting as writing a great three-page mega-scene and realizing that you could have accomplished just as much in two-eighths of a page.4 So ask yourself up front: How much screen time am I willing to give to this scene?
7. Brainstorm three different ways it could begin.
The classic advice is to come into a scene as late as you possibly can. Of course, to do that, you really need to know how the previous scene ended. There’s often a natural momentum that suggests what first image or line of dialogue would be perfect to open the scene. But don’t stop at the first option. Find a couple, then…
8. Play it on the screen in your head.
At least 50% of screenwriting is simply sitting there with your eyes closed, watching the unwritten scene loop in your head. The first couple of times through, it’s really rough: a blocking rehearsal. But eventually, you start to hear the characters talk to each other, and the vague motions become distinct actions. Don’t worry if you can’t always get the scene to play through to the end — you’re more likely to find the exit in the writing than in the imagining.
Don’t rush this step. Let the scene percolate. Mumble the dialogue. Immerse yourself as fully into the moment as you can.
9. Write a scribble version.
A “scribble version” is essentially a cheat sheet so you’ll remember the great scene you just saw in your head. Don’t write sentences; don’t write full dialogue. It shouldn’t take more than five minutes. Just get the bare minimum down so that you won’t forget the scene in the next hour as you’re writing it.
I generally hand-write a scribble version in tiny print — sometimes literally on the back of an envelope — but you can also type. This is what a scribble version consists of for me:
- DUNCAN waiting edge of seat
- ITO
- I was one of the doctors who worked on your wife
- accident
- injuries severe, trauma team, sorry, couldn’t save her
- (sits, reflex)
- nature of injuries, concern fetus wouldn’t survive in utero. paramedic able deliver caesarian boy healthy
- (nodding not hearing)
- nurse can take you to see him, know a lot to handle
- what
- a lot to handle
- take me to see him?
- yes
- see who?
- your son. paramedic was able to
- (grabs clipboard)
- I know this may seem
- My wife wasn’t pregnant
- Your wife didn’t tell you…
- My wife has never been pregnant. been trying three years. fertility clinic last week
- I examined the baby myself. nearly at term.
- I don’t know whose baby, not hers.
It’s kind of a mess, and really wouldn’t make sense to anyone but me — and only shortly after I wrote it. But that doesn’t matter. The scribble version is only there so you don’t get lost or confused while writing the full version of the scene. Yes, it’s finally time to…
10. Write the full scene.
If you typed up the scribble version, don’t just try to fatten it out. Start clean. The scribble version is deliberately crappy, and rewritten crap is still crap.
The scribble version is your outline for the scene. Yes, allow yourself the chance to detour from your scribble version if a truly better idea comes along. But if you’ve really spent the time to play it through in your head (#8), it’s probably on the right track already.
Depending on the nature of the scene, getting the dialogue right may be most of the work. Regardless, focus on choosing the best words to describe the characters, the action and tone, so your readers will see the same scene in their heads.
11. Repeat 200 times.
- I’m neither pro nor anti-outline. They can be a useful way of figuring out how the pieces might fit together. They’re nearly essential in television, where many minds need to coordinate. But sticking too closely to an outline is dangerous. It’s like following Google Maps when it tells you to take Wilshire. ↩
- Do my own scripts hold up to this (admittedly harsh) standard? Yes, largely, but feel free to correct me where you disagree. Big Fish has quite a few meanders and detours, but that’s very much on-topic — it’s the reason the son is so frustrated. ↩
- As an example: Kal Penn in Superman Returns. He’s basically an extra. ↩
- Scenes are measured in eighths. You really do say two-eighths, not one-quarter. ↩
Articles
January 9th, 2007 at 7:37 am
“1. Ask: What needs to happen in this scene? Many screenwriting books will tell you to focus on what the characters want. This is wrong. The characters are not responsible for the story. You are. If characters were allowed to control their scenes, most characters would chose to avoid conflict, and movies would be crushingly boring.”
I’ve seen plenty of people force characters into doing what “needs” to happen in the story to the point that their motivations make no sense. It’s not WRONG to focus on what characters want – it’s just not the whole picture, and it obviously needs to be taken into consideration. It’s when you set conflicting character motivations against each other that you get conflict…
January 9th, 2007 at 7:44 am
John,
This is great stuff. I find it very useful to see a bare bones, stripped down description. Don’t put this into a book, you’ll have to turn a page and a half into a twenty page chapter. This is infinitely more useful.
Maybe for an encore you can write about sequences or on the flip side beats.
All the best- Lip
January 9th, 2007 at 8:04 am
good stuff. especially when you’re jetlagged.
January 9th, 2007 at 8:19 am
It’s very useful to write a scrible version. Because it allows you to think about other scenes. If you don’t do this, you get obsessed with THAT F… SCENE and it slows your creativity down.
January 9th, 2007 at 8:21 am
Great entry John, I love when you write this kind of useful and direct advice.
This might be a bit off topic but I’m currently reading Syd Field’s Screenplay, and he writes that you should make up really extensive backgrounds for pretty much all of your major characters. Like where they went to school, what their parents worked with and so on and so on. I was wondering if this is something you do or if the characters just come to you as you write?
January 9th, 2007 at 8:55 am
This is fantastic advice. John, you should really be charging some sort of fee for this. But don’t let me put ideas in your head. You’ve no idea how helpful this is to those of us who’ve struggled to make scenes work the McKee/Field way.
Go raibh maith agat.
January 9th, 2007 at 9:10 am
I seem to do all the things people tell others to do, but I don’t consciously do them. I believe 90% of screenwriting is instinctual. You see it, and it looks and sounds just right. I don’t know if that can be taught.
January 9th, 2007 at 10:01 am
Great advice. I think similar principles can also help for planning the overall story, not just each scene. I look forward to more of these entries from you.
January 9th, 2007 at 10:40 am
I’ve been struggling to get on track writing an adaptation/update of a favorite, 19th c. novel. To help clamber out of the hole I’ve fallen into (endless reassessments of how to form the “best” updated plot) I’m trying to write scenes in first person narrative form, through a lead character’s voice. This helps me get a clearer sense of the updated character, but doesn’t do much for the plot construction.
Just wondering if you have any time-tested methods that have helped you find the crucial kernel of plot for an adaptation, or even specifically for an update? I’ve read all your adaptation posts and always appreciate your guidance.
January 9th, 2007 at 12:34 pm
Thanks for this post John. I bet a large percentage of your readers come here for this kind of information. Looking forward to more like this.
January 9th, 2007 at 2:15 pm
Chiming in with another hearty thanks, as well – it’s refreshing and immensely helpful to get some morsels on little-s screenwriting from places other than the shelves and shelves of McKee-wannabes too daunting to browse through.
January 9th, 2007 at 2:38 pm
Long time reader, first time poster. Thanks for acknowledging that a huge part of writing is THINKING and watching a scene play out before actually putting pen to paper. Makes me feel less guilty about all those hours logged at Starbucks, staring into space, playing with my characters in my head–but not typing a damn thing!
January 9th, 2007 at 2:44 pm
Ignorant question – how does this differ from the Syd Field approach? This method seems so logical.
January 9th, 2007 at 3:26 pm
A mess? But his wife wasn’t pregnant. At least not as far as he knew. And they’d been trying and everything. What’s going on? Damn you August, you teaser.
January 9th, 2007 at 5:53 pm
John – Do you ever just sit and write for the love of it and not worry about outlines or the purpose of a scene? Doesn’t it sometimes feel like screenwriting is more work than pleasure?
January 9th, 2007 at 6:21 pm
John,
I just read through Jane E’s blog–it’s really good. Very insightful, very useful. Gonna read it daily from now on, actually.
But when I looked for a place to ask her a question and clicked on ‘Contact’, it appears she’s saying you can only send her questions via snail mail…?
Or am I mis-reading the instructions for contacting her?
Anonymous
January 9th, 2007 at 8:23 pm
Yep, I was right. If you have a question or comment for Jane E., you have to send it by letter to the Wilshire address on the Contact page–I just got an email from her webmaster saying so.
WTF? ‘I’m going to start a screenwriting advice blog, but if you want to ask me a question, you can only send it via snail mail.’
Very weird. Beyond weird, actually. More like ’suspicious’. So much so, in fact, that I’m not going to read the site anymore.
Anon.
January 9th, 2007 at 10:44 pm
I agree with poster #1 – John, are you fucking retarded? A character must act his character not what’s most convenient for you.
January 10th, 2007 at 2:27 am
How is it suspicious? What do you suspect that she’s doing, running a scam to collect recycled envelopes ?
It seems to be a basic (but pretty clunky) way of protecting her against silly ‘you stole my idea’ claims. It seems that someone else gets the letters, and only passes on ones that pass the muster. It stops some fanboy from deciding to sue because he sent her an idea for a Battlestar Galactica episode that later happens to be made. Sure, we know the claimn would fail in the end, but why should she cause the hassle to her employer ??
And it’s odd that someone calling themself ‘Anonymous’ (and who doesn’t provide any contact details) decides not to trust someone who provides their full name, photo, resume, snail mail contact address … simply because they also don’t provide an email address !!!
Yep .. that’s beyond weird.
Mac
January 10th, 2007 at 3:53 am
I disagree with a couple of points. Or rather, I think they should be consumed in moderation.
“1. Ask: What needs to happen in this scene?”
If actions don’t fit characters, then you’re gonna end up with an illogical mess that’s painful to watch. Consider the trainwreck that was 29 Palms.
“5. Ask: What’s the most surprising thing that could happen in the scene?”
Please, only at most 2 or 3 of these in the whole movie. And an explanation will have to follow later. And it will have to fit the story and the characters. And since such events draw peoples’ attention, you’d better make them crucial to the story. Otherwise cars will be crashing through walls and people will be coughing up fingers all the time for no apparent reason. And that’s a bad thing, unless you’re doing an ad where you’re selling something that is supposed to spice up lives.
This is a good list, though. Thanks!
January 10th, 2007 at 5:56 am
Anon, (isn’t it weird how people who post idiotic comments always seem to be hiding?) what are you going on about? Jane Espenson has the right to dispense her advice or receive (or not) any questions any way she pleases.
These professionals have no OBLIGATION to he help any of us or to make themselves accessible by email if they don’t want to.
January 10th, 2007 at 7:15 am
Anonymous,
Jane Espenson’s blog is a recent discovery for me too. It’s great reading. I’m constantly impressed with her crisp wit, darned good writing, and the generosity to share the equivalent of a thick book’s worth of advice, at no charge. No charge.
I feel the same about your generosity, too, John; and Terry Rossio’s at “Wordplayer”; and Christopher Lockhart’s “Inside Pitch”… and on and on. All vary in how contact-able they are (John’s active comments, Terry’s responses at the WP forums, Christopher’s email option) well, it’s amazing that these working pros allow the contact they do.
BUT, Jane Espenson is a working TV writer, and you’re shocked that she’s limited how contactable she is??
Anon, you’ve stopped reading her blog because she won’t post her email address.
Really?
Anonymous, don’t take this personally, but your idea for a boycott is really impotent. It’s your freedom entirely, to choose to not read anything. But envelopes and stamps are cheap, and — if your question is really important — you could respect her choice as to how she wants to be contacted.
You can respect her choice can’t you?
– Dave O
January 10th, 2007 at 8:09 am
Something David Mamet brings up is that, while in modern performance we are so focused on back story and histories of characters and things of that nature, it really is inconsequential. Does anyone ask what Hamlet’s backstory is? He’s a Danish prince who recently lost his father, and whose mother remarried his uncle – do we really know more than that?
January 10th, 2007 at 8:18 am
No, Mariano, Anonymous is right. This IS suspicious. My guess is that Espenson (if that really is her name) wants people to send her envelopes that they have licked, so that she can extract DNA from the saliva on the flaps, and use that to create an army of evil clones. That is the only explanation that makes any sense.
January 10th, 2007 at 9:04 am
Thanks John, great post and I’m not ashamed to admit I picked up on a few excellent techniques; ones I currently don’t use.
I will definitely be using both the scribble scene and the multiple opening techniques.
The only reservation I have is where you say:
“If characters were allowed to control their scenes, most characters would chose to avoid conflict, and movies would be crushingly boring.”
Where I agree is in character development it’s a mistake to see the characters as “real” people — because then it’s possible the scenes will lack tension and focus for exactly the reason you stated.
However, my take on character development is if you build character traits, objectives and secrets that force characters into conflict, then conflict arises naturally.
I’d say that 60% of my plot development and 90% of my subplots come from the character development process, before I’ve completely locked down the outline — but I don’t develop my characters in isolation, but lay them out as an ensemble on a spreadsheet — so I don’t develop characters as such, rather I develop the relationships between them.
Where I think you’re absolutely right is the characters have to function as part of the story and where I see a lot of scenes fall flat is in the writer’s desire to create realism rather than drama.
However, with all that said, I write very different screenplays to yours and maybe the techniques I use to create drama from character development don’t apply so much to your projects.
There is no one right way to do this thing — even if there are thousands of ways to get it wrong.
January 10th, 2007 at 11:22 am
I always take Wilshire… It’s funny to me, what you say about whether the scene is necessary or not. If everything superfluous in movies was taken out Peter Jackson’s King Kong would be an hour shorter. Hollywood is all about excess these days. Nobody follows that rule. And as for Kal Penn, well isn’t he a part of the genre? We’re talking Lex Luthor here. He is a supervillian. He needs henchman. He needs a bunch of useless people around him to be crushed by large rocks. It’s part of his character. So I say keep Kal Penn. I’ve never been able to follow any screenwriting advice or read any of those screenwriting books that supposedly tell you how to do it. It just feels so wrong to me. I always find so many things I don’t agree with and I feel like it’s not very hard to write a screenplay. I’ve seen so many movies it’s a completely natural medium for me to write a story in.
January 10th, 2007 at 12:12 pm
“How to Write a Scene” is good stuff, to be sure.
I have one quibble, which is your use of the word “instinct” in the third paragraph, an idea that “Writer” repeated in Comment #7. I think what you meant to say is “intuitive,” rather than “instinctive.”
Human instinct is hardwired and remains the same from birth to death, as introduced at various points or in various stages of life. The urge to procreate is instinctive, the urge to run from danger is instinctive.
Intuition on the other hand is not fixed and can and usually does grow as a capacity throughout life. When we learn to drive a car we have to think consciously about shifting gears or depressing the accelerator; after some practice these things become learned, they become intuitive.
Same with writing, in the beginning we have to think consciously about every facet, every angle, every element of a composition; later, when we have learned the process much of it is subsumed to intuition and we write intuitively, without having to cogitate on the myriad things that comprise the act of composing something in language, a scene for example.
It is always more productive to write consciously, however, to “know” what you are doing and why you are doing it. Relying on intuition alone is a dangerous path, as your piece reveals. Intuition has a role to play and we dare not ignore it, but it shouldn’t be the controlling role.
January 10th, 2007 at 2:30 pm
Sean Rooney (#27) is right: I meant “intuitive” rather than “instinctive.” That’s what happens when I blog while exhausted.
Chris (#18): Yes, I’m fucking retarded. Only I mean in the way my assistant Dana used to say it, like, “That is so cool it’s fucking retarded.”
My next post will explain point number one in more detail, but yes, I’m sticking to my guns.
January 10th, 2007 at 3:08 pm
I wonder if #1 can be spun as such:
Create the character such that he wants what you need him to do in the scene.
January 10th, 2007 at 3:30 pm
Long-time reader, first time poster, listen…
First, just wanted to say that this was a terrific post and one that I will be returning to as I work on my own projects. Thank you!
Second, I remember reading an interview with Kal Penn (I think it was on AICN, I’m ashamed to say) where he revealed that he had a small subplot, with dialogue, in SR that was cut from the film. I was thinking when watching it, “Why would you hire Kal Penn, an actor who’s all about voice and attitude, for a non-speaking role?”
January 10th, 2007 at 3:41 pm
Sorry, one more thing:
“Imagine the projectionist screwed up and accidentally lopped off this scene. Would the movie still make sense? If the answer is “yes,â€? then you don’t really need the scene, and shouldn’t bother writing it.”
My wife and I rented Michael Mann’s “Collateral” last year, and due to a weird remote accident, we started the film at chapter two, completely missing the part where Jamie Foxx talks about his dream to Jada Pinkett Smith, and starting where Tom Cruise enters the building.
We never realized it until near the very end.
While the Foxx/Smith relationship didn’t quite work because of the skipped beginning, and I was getting a nagging feeling that something was missing, overall, it worked, and wasn’t confusing at all. In fact, my wife would never have known if I didn’t go back to check after the movie finished.
The moral, if there is one: a lot of exposition can be cut. I was shocked that most people watch this movie and have to sit through Foxx’s “dream speech” TWICE
January 10th, 2007 at 5:42 pm
John, I agree with you on point #1. In response to comment #18, yes, you try to stay “true” to your character in what actions you make him take, but you’re not at the mercy of the character. The writer has a desitination in mind for a character (at least the protagonist) when he or she creates it. You’re still pushing that character to the end point, and you need to create a scene sequence to get him there.
January 10th, 2007 at 5:52 pm
At the risk of sounding like a slow echo, great post John. Just to let you know stuff like this is really appreciated by the great unwashed.
January 10th, 2007 at 9:05 pm
I have a query about point number 2.
What if the movie makes sense without the scene, but it makes MORE sense with it? Ie: A bit of extra clarification – just in case your audience is a bit thick and not on the same page as you?
And it’s not like you leave it in because it’s funny, or dramatic, but because it might just help explain things a little better. Especcially when it ties in with the scene that you’re DEFINETLY leaving in straight after it.
January 11th, 2007 at 1:57 am
Are you saying that would be a bad thing?
January 11th, 2007 at 2:19 pm
Thanks,, John, for your insights, particularly the one about whether the scene could be omitted. I had written two scenes recently that I liked for various reasons, but I had to rethink them after your comments, and they do have to go.One was duplicative of an earlier one that I liked so much, I decided to find a way to do it again – bad idea. The other, a bit of information that was also repetitive. Thanks again!
January 11th, 2007 at 5:55 pm
You had me at “What if a young boy vomited up a finger?”
January 11th, 2007 at 6:13 pm
Actually, Pauldwaite, King Kong would be a lot better with an hour lopped off. My point was only that I don’t think many Hollywood screenwriters take that bit of advice about only keeping the completely necessary scenes. Also, take a couple endings off of LOTR ROTK and the movie would be nearly watchable.
January 12th, 2007 at 7:02 pm
Phew, Farley, that’s a relief. I’m right with you.
January 23rd, 2007 at 11:52 pm
John, in past blogs you’ve talked about theme, once writing “In your own work, it’s definitely worth sitting down and looking at whether you’ve really explored the idea-within-the-idea.”
However I didn’t see any mention of theme in your How to Write a Scene section. Does that mean you’d only consider theme when conjuring a project or outlining a plot, and then perhaps during the rewriting phase, but not during the first draft of the script?
If you could expand your philosophies on both theme and re-writing, I’m sure it’d help a lot of new writers.
Thank you.
February 10th, 2007 at 2:25 pm
I’d love to hear your process on creating characters. I feel like I have a craft when it comes to structuring my scripts. but the characters just seem to happen for the most part. It seems like certain aspects of them become apparent early on. But most often they slowly evolve by fulfilling the functions of the story.
February 11th, 2007 at 2:13 pm
Hey Jo from Australia. In the situation you describe I’d cut the scene and move the explication info into one or two lines in another scene. I like a story that moves. Two steps forward and one step back will get you to the same palce eventually and it will have more texture but the overall thrust of the idea will have lost impact. Take a look at http://pics.novica.com/pictures/10/p56548_2.jpg (grabbed off the web at random) The wood grain and surface texture bring sensual gratification but if that is what is focused on the big picture is missed.
February 21st, 2007 at 7:57 pm
Some of you seem prickly on the subject of characters servicing the story. Why?
I have never once embarked on a script thinking “I have this great character in mind. Gee. I wonder what he/she is going to do?” We’re story tellers. Characters and the relationships between them service the story.
My process*: Logline the story, expand the concept to a couple three pages, find the maximum point of conflict and from that, identify the protagonist. (NOTE: He or she will be the person yelling in your head “I have the most to say on this subject!”) Now go back to the beginning of the story and write the script about that character or from that POV.
*In the interest of transparency, I am a Hollywood leper — I develop and write long form, fact-based docu-dramas for cable television. We’re an embittered bunch but we love what we do — truth is indeed stranger than fiction. In the meantime, we covet network writers’ shooting schedules and paychecks.
May 14th, 2007 at 4:10 am
Hi,I’m a young independent producer in Nigeria .Please, i need a format on how to write a reality show and what should be the content of my proposal to a company that wants to sponsor the show.Is it all reality show that you have to create a dialogue for?Pls advise me urgently. Thanks for the great work you doing.This site is an inspiration. Joe.
August 1st, 2007 at 11:01 pm
Thanks for the advice. Practice is key.
September 5th, 2007 at 6:54 pm
All good stuff Johnnie A. ‘Nuff said.
January 28th, 2008 at 10:45 am
Wow There’s alot packed into this response and lots to think about, much more so than in any book I’ve purchased so far. Thanks a mil.
February 28th, 2008 at 3:15 pm
Youo make very good points. To Add, characters should come to life on their own, and practically write their own scene/