So, I have an idea. I think it's a really good idea. It falls into a sub-genre of thrillers I think of as daddy-daughter flicks, in which a father must rescue or revenge his little (often teenage) girl.
The problem I'm having is that I have an abundance of ideas about how to approach it.
I know who the main character is. I know who his antagonist and con-tagonists are. I know what the ending is, and I know everyone's motivations.
That still leaves me with a HUGE range of creative choices. I could write two or three complete screenplays based on these characters in this situation and have them be distinctly different.
The first dillemma: how much backstory do I front-load?
I could open with the scene of what happened to this man's daughter, showing just enough but leaving out some details that would be revealed later. The main character has suppressed parts of this event, but is also driven by it.
Or, flash back to it a few times as he encounters the individuals he's seeking revenge on, and as he remembers more. A little of this will happen regardless, because of the memory issue, but flashbacks are so tricky, perhaps they are best left alone. They seem natural to this storyline, but perhaps the audience will be more involved, and the structure will be simpler if I go with the first option.
Another approach: only hint at the event, dropping information through conversations and confrontations, without ever really showing it. I *could* even do this combined with the first option - showing very little in the opening scene, through the protag's faulty memory, and then hinting through the reactions of others that there was much more to the story
None of those are bad choices. Honestly, I love the third approach - not even showing the event, but teasing information about it through each scene, until we have a good idea - but never a 100% complete one...I'm just not sure my craft is strong enough to make that work on the page without being confusing. It's a problem I've had before.
The other major dramatic choice I'm making is between two basic approaches to the story. Make it a standard thriller-hunt type film like Taken? Or a mostly-single location psychological drama like The Negotiator and Albino Alligator?
The hunt has terrific possibilities for chase scenes, big set pieces, and lots of great cathartic torture them for info then blow them away moments. Basically, he knows where one of the people he's hunting for is, and uses them to get to the next one, leaving a trail of carnage and attracting the attention of the police. The pacing would be fast, and the story would be visceral.
The second option - have most of the people he's hunting gathered in one location, where he secures them and isolates them, then confronts each of them for information about the "truth" and the location/identity of the person who is really responsible for the bad thing that happened. Again, I lean toward this, but it's trickier to keep it interesting and tense.
Of course, I could actually write two screenplays...but since I've not written any (feature-length) scripts in a while, I think I'd better focus on just one!
Getting Back Into It
Finally read and reviewed another screenplay on Triggerstreet:
Read Here
Hey, it took me almost 6 years to get my life back on track after my husband died. This period of grief wasn't nearly so bad. I even started a new career... just let my writing go by the wayside and let all my friends fade from my life.
I'll be honest, I missed the former more than the latter. Nothing meant to slight any old friends - but the writing has always meant more to me. Friends have always been more separate, some of them genuinely adored, but not really taken in to my heart. People I actually felt close to very, very rare.
Read Here
Hey, it took me almost 6 years to get my life back on track after my husband died. This period of grief wasn't nearly so bad. I even started a new career... just let my writing go by the wayside and let all my friends fade from my life.
I'll be honest, I missed the former more than the latter. Nothing meant to slight any old friends - but the writing has always meant more to me. Friends have always been more separate, some of them genuinely adored, but not really taken in to my heart. People I actually felt close to very, very rare.
Freedom, Structure & Creativity
Recently, I stumbled on "another bored college student" blogging that she "really want(s) to write a screenplay," but she is
There's the popular-with-youngsters idea that free writing is truly creative, because it's free. If I read a novel and there are chapters that don't serve the overall purpose in some way, I get frustrated. In poetry, each stanza (each word) should be relevant and appropriate. Free writing is useful only in diaries and exercises - not for anything intended to be communicated to others.
But more than that is the complaint I came across often among poets when I was studying writing in college: that form and structure, that limits in general, were antithetical to creativity. In fact, the opposite is true. Limits engender creativity.
Interesting and original art typically comes from the streets, the poor, the oppressed. The people who have the most limits. People whose time, resources, and even daily activities are the most circumscribed.
Interesting and original art creates it's own form, where a form did not exist.
In grad school, I found that wrestling an unformed thought into the bindings of a sonnet, villanelle, or pantoum forced me to exercise my mind in a way that free form poetry does not. Giving it those limits forced me to be more careful with my phrases, and allowed me to play the language against the structure in ways that created meaning that is not possible in free verse. The form allows you to draw attention to specific words by their placement, and to tie one word or stanza to another - through the form - and create layers of meaning. You build layers, like a good wall (or a cake!), and repetition gives it strength. Or like passes of ink over a silkscreen, the color intensifying each time it's pushed through the form.
If you really want to write a screenplay, you want to write something that is identifiable as a movie. Movies have certain specific limits, and the limits of narrative in that medium also create opportunities for creativity. Where else can you have image and reaction? Where you have the complexities of visual storytelling possible in painting paired with the dynamism of movement? Where you can contrast an image or action with sound and create meaning from that? And yet, yes, it has to have a story. It has to have a beginning, middle, and an end. It has to make sense to others. And there's no point in having scenes that, well, don't have a point.
If you really want to write a screenplay, you also have to want to write something that reads well on the page. That does not ramble, that does not turn inward, and that does not waste time on anything that is not the movie. That is tight, and neat, with lots of white space.
If you really want to write a screenplay, you want to write something that moves, on the page. That the reading of it takes you on the journey - whether it's a stroll, a dance, or a hard run. The structure of the segments and scenes, of the short dialogue and brief descriptions are kinetic. Good screenplays use the limits of the medium to create an experience on the page that moves.
Creativity does not end with formula and structure. Creativity rejoices - because like water flowing in a river, it only gets to sing when it passes over the stones.
so used to free writing which is a better fit for novel writing. Screenplay writing is very specific and every scene needs to have a purpose and function to the pace and story as a whole. So by definition it's more of a formulaic writing than free flow writing. It sucks the creativity out of it.
There's the popular-with-youngsters idea that free writing is truly creative, because it's free. If I read a novel and there are chapters that don't serve the overall purpose in some way, I get frustrated. In poetry, each stanza (each word) should be relevant and appropriate. Free writing is useful only in diaries and exercises - not for anything intended to be communicated to others.
But more than that is the complaint I came across often among poets when I was studying writing in college: that form and structure, that limits in general, were antithetical to creativity. In fact, the opposite is true. Limits engender creativity.
Interesting and original art typically comes from the streets, the poor, the oppressed. The people who have the most limits. People whose time, resources, and even daily activities are the most circumscribed.
Interesting and original art creates it's own form, where a form did not exist.
In grad school, I found that wrestling an unformed thought into the bindings of a sonnet, villanelle, or pantoum forced me to exercise my mind in a way that free form poetry does not. Giving it those limits forced me to be more careful with my phrases, and allowed me to play the language against the structure in ways that created meaning that is not possible in free verse. The form allows you to draw attention to specific words by their placement, and to tie one word or stanza to another - through the form - and create layers of meaning. You build layers, like a good wall (or a cake!), and repetition gives it strength. Or like passes of ink over a silkscreen, the color intensifying each time it's pushed through the form.
If you really want to write a screenplay, you want to write something that is identifiable as a movie. Movies have certain specific limits, and the limits of narrative in that medium also create opportunities for creativity. Where else can you have image and reaction? Where you have the complexities of visual storytelling possible in painting paired with the dynamism of movement? Where you can contrast an image or action with sound and create meaning from that? And yet, yes, it has to have a story. It has to have a beginning, middle, and an end. It has to make sense to others. And there's no point in having scenes that, well, don't have a point.
If you really want to write a screenplay, you also have to want to write something that reads well on the page. That does not ramble, that does not turn inward, and that does not waste time on anything that is not the movie. That is tight, and neat, with lots of white space.
If you really want to write a screenplay, you want to write something that moves, on the page. That the reading of it takes you on the journey - whether it's a stroll, a dance, or a hard run. The structure of the segments and scenes, of the short dialogue and brief descriptions are kinetic. Good screenplays use the limits of the medium to create an experience on the page that moves.
Creativity does not end with formula and structure. Creativity rejoices - because like water flowing in a river, it only gets to sing when it passes over the stones.
Getting Organized
My goal for this year (I wouldn't call it a resolution) is to get organized. My room, my office, and my kitchen are a mess - lots of stuff, in piles, randomly stuck into drawers or cabinets and forgotten about or lost.
This is partly because I'm, well, lazy. But largely because I moved into this house while my mother was dying, and have only in the last few weeks really begun to feel back to myself. In fact, just yesterday, felt good, good in a way that made it clear how rarely I've felt more than OK in the past few years. I grieve for a long time.
I've read that when people whose space is organized are more organized and productive in their work, and that matches my own experience. It's not simply a matter of habits carrying over - it's the setting. Clutter is distracting. Makes for messy thinking. Also, for me, provides a constant nagging "I should be" that keeps me from diving in to projects I care about.
So, my goal is to spend my vacation organizing, finding places for my stuff, weeding out stuff I don't need, cleaning. Then to set about organizing my activities, finding room for my writing, exercise, play time with the dog, and going out to movies and dinner... and then to keep organized throughout the year.
This is partly because I'm, well, lazy. But largely because I moved into this house while my mother was dying, and have only in the last few weeks really begun to feel back to myself. In fact, just yesterday, felt good, good in a way that made it clear how rarely I've felt more than OK in the past few years. I grieve for a long time.
I've read that when people whose space is organized are more organized and productive in their work, and that matches my own experience. It's not simply a matter of habits carrying over - it's the setting. Clutter is distracting. Makes for messy thinking. Also, for me, provides a constant nagging "I should be" that keeps me from diving in to projects I care about.
So, my goal is to spend my vacation organizing, finding places for my stuff, weeding out stuff I don't need, cleaning. Then to set about organizing my activities, finding room for my writing, exercise, play time with the dog, and going out to movies and dinner... and then to keep organized throughout the year.
NYC Midnight challenge round 3
Somehow, I managed to land in the middle of my group last round, and squeak by into the next one.
Of course, I thought it was going to be this coming weekend - and Yahoo glitched and held my mail from Thursday night through Saturday night... so I didn't even read that I had made it until Sunday am. I had to think of an idea at work, and come home and write it in a couple of hours.
Though, really, 2-3 hours seems to be par for this course. I always end up writing the script in about that time.
This one went more smoothly, as it was a more comfortable genre and setting for me: Fantasy in a Cemetery. The object was a first aid kit.
I uploaded to Google docs, since some folks find the Scrippets format hard to read for more than a few lines.
I had fun. Let me know what you think. Cemetery Lanterns
Of course, I thought it was going to be this coming weekend - and Yahoo glitched and held my mail from Thursday night through Saturday night... so I didn't even read that I had made it until Sunday am. I had to think of an idea at work, and come home and write it in a couple of hours.
Though, really, 2-3 hours seems to be par for this course. I always end up writing the script in about that time.
This one went more smoothly, as it was a more comfortable genre and setting for me: Fantasy in a Cemetery. The object was a first aid kit.
I uploaded to Google docs, since some folks find the Scrippets format hard to read for more than a few lines.
I had fun. Let me know what you think. Cemetery Lanterns
NYC Midnight challenge round 2
Genre: Comedy
Setting: The North Pole
Object: Crutches
Pole to Pole
Setting: The North Pole
Object: Crutches
Pole to Pole
FADE IN
INT. TV STUDIO - DAY
CHRISTINE, a perfectly coifed Asian woman in a tropical print dress addresses the camera.
CHRISTINE
They've made it to the finals. Our Pole-to-Pole contestants have traveled for hours, and now arrive at their secret destination.
Behind her, a huge screen shows brightly a painted helicopter landing on a vast expanse of ice. A CREW MEMBER opens the door, and helps 4 CONTESTANTS step out. They wear blindfolds.
EXT. THE NORTH POLE - DAY
CAMERA OPERATORS, MIC OPERATORS and CREW swirl around the helicopters.
The 4 blindfolded contestants, 2 men, 2 women, are taken by the hand and walked to a flag stuck in the ice.
They stand there, attempting to look heroic.
In the background, a head in a pointed cap pops up from a crack in the ice. No one sees it, and it ducks away again.
Trucks and generators are all on one side, leaving the view behind the contestants empty and imposing.
THE DP walks out from one of the trucks, and shouts
THE DP
And...cut. Keep your blindfolds on. Stay in place, OK.
The contestants are bundled up in fashionable gear.
TOM, late-30s, square-jawed and not much over 5'2", flaps his arms across his chest.
TOM
Fuck it's colder than a witch's tit out here.
BRANDI, 21, with blonde braids and cocoa skin, tilts her head, and puts her hands on her hips.
BRANDI
Are you for real? Who says that?
TOM
Hey, can you fucking guys get it together? Are we ready to proceed here already?
The camera operators huddle together. They ignore Tom.
CHAD, mid-20s, tall with dark hair, is shifting back and forth, and tugging at the neck of his coat.
CHAD
Where are we? I didn't think anyplace was this cold in July.
STEPHANIE, late-20s, perks up.
STEPHANIE
Actually, the seasons in the southern hemisphere are reversed. They must have brought us south of the equator.
She tilts her head back, trying to see under her blindfold.
INT. TV STUDIO - DAY
CHRISTINE
Unbeknownst to our finalists, one camera has continued to film them.
On the video screen:
TOM
All I know is this [beep]-ing place is [beep]-ing cold and I'm [beep] [beep] that this is taking so [beep]-ing long.
BRANDI
What is it with you and that mouth?
CHAD
I just hope this doesn't chap my skin. I don't want my cheeks to be all red.
EXT. THE NORTH POLE - DAY
The DP approaches, camera and crew move back in place.
THE DP
All right, folks, we're going again. And five, four, three
He motions 2 and 1.
The contestants put on their game faces again.
One of the boom operaters seems to have shrunk in size. And... are his ears pointed?
The contestants pull off their blindfolds with clumsy, frozen fingers. They look around.
TOM
Well, I'll be f....
He looks at the camera a moment.
TOM
...a monkey's uncle.
BRANDI
You have a serious problem. I don't know what kind, but you got it.
CHAD
We're...nowhere.
He spins in a circle.
Stephanie pulls a compass out of a pocket.
She excitedly steps up and down, and starts bouncing around.
STEPHANIE
This is so cool! Do you know where we are?
The others just look at her.
STEPHANIE
The North Pole!
CHAD
Where are the elves?
Brandi rolls her eyes.
The tiny boom operator slowly backs away, and slips away from the crew. An ASSISTANT carrying coffee sees him, and his jaw drops.
INT. TV STUDIO - DAY
Christine walks over to a stage with a stripper pole, and the logo "Pole to Pole".
CHRISTINE
They've danced all over the world. Now, our contestants must dance in freezing temperatures, on a pole at the North Pole.
INT. LARGE YURT - DAY
The floor is ice. Chairs are set up in front of a small stage with a stripper pole. Heaters are set around the stage.
The contestants stand in front of it staring.
STEPHANIE
I suppose the pole might be warm enough once the heaters get going.
TOM
Fuck this.
He stops out of the tent.
CHAD
I never understood how that troll made it this far.
EXT. THE NORTH POLE - DAY
Tom stomps past the crew trucks, muttering. Something catches his eye. He goes to a crack in the ice, and suddenly the elf reaches up, grabs his ankle, and pulls him down.
He gets stuck a moment at chest height, struggling to pull himself back out. Then stops.
TOM
Fuck me.
He disappears from sight.
INT. LARGE YURT - DAY
The other three contestants are at a sound board, getting their songs ready to go.
The elf darts out, holding a pot, and runs to the stage. He smears something greasy on the pole.
INT. LARGE YURT - LATER
A small audience hoots and hollers, while music plays.
Chad stretches, to the side of the stage, with big movements designed to draw attention. Stephanie hobbles on crutches.
Brandi, in a sexy dress, tries to dance, but can't get any friction on the pole. Every time she tries to climb up it, she slips down fast.
The audience boos.
She makes one last desperate attempt, flinging her legs upward, and wrapping them around the pole - only to slide down and land hard on her butt.
BRANDI
Someone greased this pole.
She hobbles off the stage, fuming.
Chad steps up, rips open his coat, and flings himself at the pole, trying to swing around it. His hand slips off, and he ends up falling off the other side of the stage.
CHAD
Ow. Not fair.
Suddenly, Tom walks in, wearing shades. But...he's even shorter. And his clothes are baggy. It's the elf.
The other contestants stare.
ELF
Fucking cue my goddamn music, bitches.
A moment of dead silence, and then a song starts.
The elf hops onto the stage, and whips off his scarf. He wraps it around the pole, and shimmies as he rubs it up and down, cleaning the pole.
Off come the hat and sunglasses. The audience gasps.
INT. TV STUDIO - DAY
On the big screen behind Christine, Tom, Brandi, and Stephanie sit in the yurt, bandaged. Stephanie's crutches are beside her.
CHRISTINE
And now, based on your votes from all across the nation, our first Pole-to-Pole champion!
The elf comes out, wearing nothing but a tiny thong and shades. He looks like a male model - shrunk in the wash, with pointy ears.
ELF
Thank you! Ever since the workshop branched out into adult toys, this has been my dream.
He takes a bow.
FADE OUT
The Lie that Tells
Art is a lie but a lie that tells the truth.
- Pablo Picasso
In real life, how often do we address the truth directly? Do we discuss what personal history makes us act as we do? Do we bare our feelings? Do we admit our wrongdoings? How often do we even stop to examine these things? And does not examining them usually require a stop from the movement and action of our lives?
OK, yes - as artists, most of us probably engage in far more examination of truth, history, and motive than the average person. But most people (I have come to realize from the blank stares I sometimes get in attempting to start conversations on such matters) rarely think, much less speak, about such things.
In fact, I've dated men who act like the question, "Why?" was not even in their vocabulary, and who genuinely had never in their lives thought to question their motivations.
This is vitally important to understand when you are writing a screenplay. We must know the truth behind our story, the history of our characters, their feelings and wrongdoings... but they must rarely, if ever, speak of these things directly. Instead, they inform the choices and actions our characters take.
To discuss these truths too openly will make your story ring false.
I was reminded of this during last week's episode of NCIS. The team had a man in interrogation. At first, he lied, to avoid the consequences of his actions. His ranged from tone was matter-of-fact and casual to offended and outraged. Then, after further questioning - his tone changed and became more urgent. One of the observing characters noted that he was probably telling the truth because he was not pausing before answering, his answers were not overly elaborated.
This made me think: to communicate a believable truth in my writing, I need the character to have a sense of urgency, to act without hesitation, and to show things simply without excessive elaboration. (Think action movie)
And, to the opposite effect, if I want to communicate avoidance of truth (which is sometimes the whole point of a story) I should slow down the pace, add hesitation, and elaborate at length - particularly over irrelevant details. (Think drawing room drama)
In either case, however, the characters show or avoid the truth through their behavior and the tone of the dialogue - not through specifically speaking about it. Speaking about truth quickly becomes either pedantic and preachy or like watching a video of someone's therapy session.
There is an excellent post here examining some specific cases.
I will add, finally, that there can be times in a screenplay to reverse the rule and have a character directly speak a truth that's been only implied up to that point.
One use is comedy. Highlighting an aspect of a relationship or action that the characters involved have been avoiding. "Get a room already, you two." Best done by a tertiary or minor character (so as not to disrupt the primary relationships). A good example was also this last episode of NCIS, when a someone referred to one of the characters as a sidekick. This then played out through the rest of the episode in small comedic actions as this character attempted to step out of that role...but was not addressed directly again. Some screenplays even have a "fool" character whose role is primarily to say that thing that everyone is thinking but won't address.
Another use is the turning point, especially the mid-point. When the character is at their wit's end, and cannot figure out what else to do, they might have a moment of reflection in which they examine, find, and possibly even articulate their real motivations. The "a-ha" moment that gets them moving again and gives them the strength to face the rest of the challenges the story will throw at them. Just... keep it brief. Like the soldier being interrogated, they should speak the truth simply and with urgency.
Not to say there is no place in art for lengthy internal examination. Novels are an excellent medium for this. Film, however, is an external art. Moving pictures are most engaging when they are, well, moving.
- Pablo Picasso
In real life, how often do we address the truth directly? Do we discuss what personal history makes us act as we do? Do we bare our feelings? Do we admit our wrongdoings? How often do we even stop to examine these things? And does not examining them usually require a stop from the movement and action of our lives?
OK, yes - as artists, most of us probably engage in far more examination of truth, history, and motive than the average person. But most people (I have come to realize from the blank stares I sometimes get in attempting to start conversations on such matters) rarely think, much less speak, about such things.
In fact, I've dated men who act like the question, "Why?" was not even in their vocabulary, and who genuinely had never in their lives thought to question their motivations.
This is vitally important to understand when you are writing a screenplay. We must know the truth behind our story, the history of our characters, their feelings and wrongdoings... but they must rarely, if ever, speak of these things directly. Instead, they inform the choices and actions our characters take.
To discuss these truths too openly will make your story ring false.
I was reminded of this during last week's episode of NCIS. The team had a man in interrogation. At first, he lied, to avoid the consequences of his actions. His ranged from tone was matter-of-fact and casual to offended and outraged. Then, after further questioning - his tone changed and became more urgent. One of the observing characters noted that he was probably telling the truth because he was not pausing before answering, his answers were not overly elaborated.
This made me think: to communicate a believable truth in my writing, I need the character to have a sense of urgency, to act without hesitation, and to show things simply without excessive elaboration. (Think action movie)
And, to the opposite effect, if I want to communicate avoidance of truth (which is sometimes the whole point of a story) I should slow down the pace, add hesitation, and elaborate at length - particularly over irrelevant details. (Think drawing room drama)
In either case, however, the characters show or avoid the truth through their behavior and the tone of the dialogue - not through specifically speaking about it. Speaking about truth quickly becomes either pedantic and preachy or like watching a video of someone's therapy session.
There is an excellent post here examining some specific cases.
I will add, finally, that there can be times in a screenplay to reverse the rule and have a character directly speak a truth that's been only implied up to that point.
One use is comedy. Highlighting an aspect of a relationship or action that the characters involved have been avoiding. "Get a room already, you two." Best done by a tertiary or minor character (so as not to disrupt the primary relationships). A good example was also this last episode of NCIS, when a someone referred to one of the characters as a sidekick. This then played out through the rest of the episode in small comedic actions as this character attempted to step out of that role...but was not addressed directly again. Some screenplays even have a "fool" character whose role is primarily to say that thing that everyone is thinking but won't address.
Another use is the turning point, especially the mid-point. When the character is at their wit's end, and cannot figure out what else to do, they might have a moment of reflection in which they examine, find, and possibly even articulate their real motivations. The "a-ha" moment that gets them moving again and gives them the strength to face the rest of the challenges the story will throw at them. Just... keep it brief. Like the soldier being interrogated, they should speak the truth simply and with urgency.
Not to say there is no place in art for lengthy internal examination. Novels are an excellent medium for this. Film, however, is an external art. Moving pictures are most engaging when they are, well, moving.
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