Story and Plot

Question sprint

June 9, 2008 Psych 101, QandA, Rights and Copyright, Story and Plot, Writing Process

A bunch of interesting questions have backed up in the queue, so let’s see how many we can get through while waiting for the new iPhone to be announced.

I’m currently outlining a spec feature, 98% of which takes place at the Superbowl. I’m on the fence about proceeding, however, because a few creative executives I’ve pitched the idea to were concerned about 1) the production costs and 2) the need to secure the NFL’s approval. One of the execs did say, however, if the NFL took to the script and got involved it would be a potential dealmaker.

While the production costs aren’t as much of a concern for me (given that those particular naysayers hadn’t gotten past the logline), the seeming make-or-break nature of the NFL’s involvement is a bit daunting. Before I take the plunge from outline to first draft, do you think it’s worth the risk?

— Patrick
Los Angeles

Yes. If you believe in the story and the characters, go for it. If a producer or executive likes your script, she’ll be smart enough to the realize that the NFL of it all can be figured out. ((On the other hand, if she doesn’t like your script, the NFL factor is an easy explanation for why she’s passing. Which saves face for everyone.))

At a USC workshop this weekend, a student asked me about writing a spec Alien vs. Predator. I gave him roughly the same advice — if you think you can write a kick-ass version of it, don’t let the potential unmake-ability of it deter you. My caveat to him was that in the case of AVP, it’s a really tired franchise, so you’re starting with a significant enthusiasm gap. Better to make your own mythology.

I’m about to re-write a script that I’ve been working on for a little while now. It’s a small character road trip drama in the spirit of 1970s American films (e.g. “Five Easy Pieces”, “Coming Home”, “Sugarland Express” — though not all films referenced there are road trip movies). This is my do or die draft — if it’s no good, then I will abandon it. But I’m hoping that some of your advice will help me avoid that outcome.

My concern is that too many of the scenes right now are overly reliant on dialog and I don’t want to tread into unnecessary exposition. At the same time, I want to be able to reveal character and backstory (and obviously, dialog plays a huge part in that). Do you have any general pointers on how to balance scenes (or sequences) of relatively quiet character moments, with the overall dramatic push that’s necessary to maintain tension? I want to make sure that both aspects remain compelling.

N.S.
Los Angeles

There’s nothing wrong with dialogue scenes if they’re moving the story ahead, or enjoyable enough on their own merits. But I suspect you’re finding that a lot of your dialogue scenes are telling us backstory about your characters, and the thing is, we just don’t care.

That’s hard to hear, but you need to hear it: except for crucial, story-twisting revelations, we simply don’t need to know more about who your characters were before they walked on screen.

So before you start that next draft, take a red pen to any chunk of dialogue that isn’t about what’s happening now. Be brutal. I suspect you’ll find that you have a lack of action and some unclear goals that were hiding behind the chatter.

The movies you cited, along with more recent ones like [Lost in Translation](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0335266/), [Sideways](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0375063/) and [Little Miss Sunshine](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0449059/), are all good examples of movies that are talky without ever becoming expositional. Characters talk about what they want, what they fear, but they never dwell on what happened. And each movie finds moments to be quiet. Long stretches of each film play as montage, letting the characters do things without commenting on them.

Let’s say you’re working on a script that’s based on a musician. He’s a fictional musician, so you’ve never heard anything this guy’s produced. As the story unfolds, we watch him build up his song. Is it okay to include the song? Or would that just kill everything and shut the reader down? I guess what I’m asking is, do you include lyrics or just leave them out and hype him like he’s as great as the supporting cast says he is?

— James

Give us lyrics. You’ll want to abbreviate a bit — cut out chorus repetitions, for starters. But it feels like too much of a tease to omit the words altogether.

Often, when I am diligently working on a script, or close to being finished on a script, I find my mind and writing meandering to other ideas. For instance, I’ve written several drafts on a thoughtful spy movie and have an extensive set of notes (from peer review) I plan to implement. Instead of completing the script, I spend time thinking and making notes on new ideas — a drinking road trip film and a sentimental father-son story.

Is this a natural way for new and good ideas to develop or am I merely avoiding “finishing” a project for fear it will suck? Not being a professional, yet, I’m not bound by deadline to turn something in…but how does a disciplined, professional, writer deal with this issue of…distraction?

— Greg

The script you haven’t written is always better than the one you’re staring at, cursor blinking, its flaws so obvious that you can’t believe you ever started writing it. That doesn’t change over the course of a career. __You will always want to be writing something else.__

You’re left with two choices: toughing it out, or [changing horses mid-stream](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2008/changing-horses-mid-stream).

Look at your spy movie, and ask yourself, “If this script had just landed on my desk, would I be excited enough by the possibilities to do this rewrite?” If the answer is no, feel free to investigate one of your other projects.

Granted, there are times you’ll really need to force yourself to finish a new draft. For instance, if you’re getting paid, or if you’ve promised a draft to someone whose opinion matters. And don’t mistake pragmatism for laziness: If something is difficult but do-able, do it. Not only will you improve the script, but you’ll learn something in the process.

The time to move on is when reaching the “best version” of your script ceases to be interesting to you.

Does a working writer keep improving?

May 7, 2008 QandA, Story and Plot, Writing Process

I am a reasonably successful screenwriter. A working writer. I’ve sold two pilots, gotten a freelance episode of a high-quality one-hour drama, done some comic book gigs, and just sold a feature with myself attached to direct at a production budget of $3M.

Not A-list, or B-list, but maybe C-minus working my way up. I’m in my early thirties and have been at this a couple years.

My problem/question is: I feel like I have hit a wall with respect to my sense of story. I feel like most of my success has been gotten on a combination of ability-to-pitch, charisma and the ability to turn a phrase _inside_ a scene. But I have this real weakness when it comes to knowing what the right scenes are in the right order. Story. Plot. I can put two people in a room and have them riff in a pleasing and entertaining way and to the extent that my story supports this kind of loose, Kevin Smith-esque writing, I do well.

But I know that if I want my career to go to the next level, I need to improve my understanding of story and plot.

So I guess I have two questions…

1) Any ideas on how to do this on an intermediate/advanced-level? How can I go from a “B” understanding of story/plot to an “A” understanding of story/plot?

and

2) What are your thoughts on how to keep making breakthroughs in the quality of your work when you are at an intermediate/advanced level? Do you feel like you are constantly improving? How do you keep improving?

— Scott
Los Angeles

You’re already the envy of most of the readers of this site: you’re a working Hollywood writer. So congratulations, and don’t dismiss what you’ve accomplished. I’m happy to hear you attribute it your skills (pitching, wit) and not pure dumb luck. ((Luck accounts for a small but not unimportant part of success in screenwriting, or any career. Being ready to be lucky, and what you do with that good fortune, is a big part of how a career goes. I was lucky to get into my film school — I honestly didn’t know how competitive it was. I was lucky that Tim Burton happened to be looking for a project when Spielberg dropped off of Big Fish. And, of course, I was lucky to be born in an upper-middle class family in Colorado.))

So let me offer some good news. The stuff you’re not especially good at — story, structure, plot — can actually be learned. If you were writing in for advice about how to be funnier or more charismatic, I would have probably let your email sit in the growing folder of unanswerable questions, because those are pretty much inherent qualities.

My advice for you is to dedicate one day a week to disassembling good movies. Take existing films (and one-hour dramas) and break them down to cards. Think of yourself as an ordinary mechanic given the task of reverse-engineering a spaceship. Figure out what the pieces do, and why they were put together in that way.

Here are the questions you need to ask about each scene or sequence:

* As the audience, what am I expecting will happen next?
* What does the character want to do next?
* Is this a good moment to let the character achieve something, or knock him back?
* How long has it been since we checked in with other character and subplots?
* What would have happened if this scene had been cut? Or moved?

By asking these questions about other people’s movies, you can take some of the pressure off.

When it comes to your scripts, it might be worth writing something that’s deliberately outside of your comfort zone, a script that doesn’t let you rest on your scenework. Because to answer your second question, yes, I think you can keep making breakthroughs in your writing, but only by challenging your preconceived limitations.

I’m currently writing my first period movie, my first stage play, and my first stage musical. Part of the reason I’m enjoying them is because they scare the be-Zeus out of me. I’ve passed on some more obvious projects that I’m sure I could have written competently simply to stretch a little more.

Yes, I’m deeper in my career than you are. And my flitting from genre to genre has probably hurt me in some respects. ((Despite Big Fish, I rarely get sent the “big books” that sell out of New York. And it’s hard for me to set up a pricey original, because I don’t have a long track record in a specific genre.)) But a career isn’t one script, or ten, it’s the years of your life. You’re working. Your ability to turn clever phrases won’t go away. So you’re right to focus on the areas you think you can improve, if only to increase your confidence and enjoyment of the career you’ve chosen.

Scripting a short film

February 22, 2008 Genres, QandA, Story and Plot, Words on the page

I’m about to get cracking on my submission for a prestigious short screenplay competition. I wondered if you had any advice specific to writing shorts? If you were judging a shorts competition, what would you be looking for?

— Kirsty
York, UK

A short film, like a short story, can’t waste any time. You need to give us your principal characters and establish their motivations immediately. There’s very little stage-setting before you get to the inciting incident and the ensuing complications.

The hero’s fundamental problem/challenge/obstacle needs to occur by the time you get to the 1/3rd mark. So, if your short is meant to be three minutes long, the big event needs to happen on page one. If it’s a 10-minute short, it happens around page three. It’s not that you’re worried about your reader getting bored before then — if you can’t entertain us for three pages, there’s a problem — but rather that if you delay any longer, your story is going to feel lopsided: too much setup for what was accomplished.

Beyond that, I wouldn’t worry much about traditional structural expectations. Funny almost always works better than serious for a short, because there’s not enough time to create the narrative movement you expect in drama. But there are exceptions. [The Red Balloon](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0048980/) for example. And I loved Walter Salles’ chapter in [Paris, je t’aime](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0401711/), which was simply a sad rhyme. ((That said, it probably wouldn’t have stood out in a script competition.))

So think funny, or poignant — but only if French.

I’ve put the script for my 1998 short film God up in the [Downloads](http://johnaugust.com/downloads) section. ((The short is a bonus feature on The Nines DVD.)) It’s 30 scenes in 11 pages. A lot of story happens, quickly. But many successful shorts take the opposite tack: they’re essentially just one joke, fully exploited. Todd Strauss-Schulson’s Jagg Off is that kind of short, as are most of the SNL and Will Ferrell videos you’ve seen.

For the competition you’re entering, however, I’d be careful not to submit anything that felt too much like a comedy sketch. If I were a judge, I’d be looking for a script that doesn’t seem like it could end up on Saturday Night Live. (Or the British equivalent.)

Good luck!

Linear writing for non-linear films

July 3, 2007 QandA, Story and Plot

When writing a narrative that jumps back and forth throughout
time and events (ie. PULP FICTION, THE KILLING) is it standard operating procedure
to write the story in a more traditional straight ahead format then re-arrange
the script;
or is the script written in a non-linear format as we see it in the movie?

–Matt Higgins

While there have been cases where a film’s timeline was juggled after-the-fact
(HEAVEN AND EARTH was one), the vast majority of scripts are written with the
non-linear elements in place. It’s
a cliché, but screenplays are
really
blueprints for making a movie, so the two forms should match up scene-by-scene.

If you’re planning to write a story that will ultimately unfold in a non-linear
way, such as GO or MEMENTO, it’s a good idea to make a second outline of the
story as it happens in "real time," to make sure the logic tracks.
In fact, this kind of outline is helpful with any kind of story, because even
if a script moves forward scene by scene, inevitably characters will refer
to things that happened "earlier," and it’s important to make sure
all these events could have happened in the sequence you propose.

Personally, I find that non-linear structure is often just a flashy trick
to disguise bad storytelling, or worse, a boring plot. It demands that the
audience pay closer attention in order to figure out what’s going on, but rarely
rewards the effort.

An analogy: When laser printers first arrived, they gave people access to
calligraphy fonts like Zapf Chancery Italic, a typeface designed for wedding
invitations. Suddenly, people printed entire newsletters in 9-point Zapf Chancery
Italic, without any consideration of whether it was the right tool for the
job. (It’s not. It’s almost unreadable.) Now I cringe whenever I see the font.
It’s been ruined for me.

What these novice designers – and many novice screenwriters – failed to recognize
is that just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should. I wrote
GO with three overlapping chunks because that’s the only way it made sense;
to intercut between the plotlines would have slowed everything down too much
and made it confusing. In short, I used a strange timeline because that’s what
the story required.

Always ask yourself why you’re choosing a particular way of telling the story.
Used well, and with the right material, non-linear structure can be a very
powerful technique. Used poorly, it just makes a crappy movie harder to follow.

(Originally posted in 2003.)

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