Time to Write

TEN SCREENPLAY SCENES TO AVOID

There are some scenes in movies that are cliches, or too improbable, or just plain silly. Here are ten to avoid:

1. An alarm clock goes off, the character wakes up, groans, and feels around to turn off the clock. Extra minus points if you show their bare feet hitting the floor.
    
2. The character opens the fridge and looks in and all that's there is a beer and a bottle of ketchup.
   
   
3. The character knocks somebody unconscious with one blow to the head. (I'm sure this works sometimes, but it didn't when I tried it. A guy was attacking a friend of mine and I grabbed a heavy glass vase and hit him over the head with it. Not only didn't it knock him out, it didn't even break. He tried to convince the police that I should be arrested for giving him a concussion. They didn't.)
   
   
4. The baddie is about to kill the hero but pauses to explain their motivation first.
   
   
5. Aliens restrict themselves to attacking New York City or Washington, D.C. (and they always want to wipe out humans or enslave them).
   
   
6. The bomb has a countdown digital timer with red numbers.
   
   
7. Heroes get shot only in the shoulder.
   
   
8. The hero and family or friends are cheerful because they've survived the final battle or the final event in the natural disaster, even though in the background a few million people have just been wiped out.
   
   
9. Even today's sophisticated cars are easy to hotwire.
   
   
10. The final battle always is a one-on-one fight with the baddest character, often hand-to-hand.
    
    If I've missed any of your favorites, feel free to add them in the comments.

The Hidden Danger in Act One of Your Screenplay

WHEN NORMAL IS BORING

Act One in a screenplay comprises the first quarter or so of the script and often it is described as relating the "normal world" of your protagonist before they are plunged into the new world of the main conflict. 

For example, in a story about a teacher who, upon retiring, decides to return to their long-forgotten dream of climbing Mt. Everest, the first act would show their rather settled life, their retirement party, then boredom setting in, until finally at the end of Act I, perusing an old journal of theirs awakens their dream again (the inciting incident). 

The hidden danger in that story, and many first acts, is that often the protagonist's normal world isn't very interesting. We don't want to be bored for 20 minutes until the interesting part of the story starts. At the same time, what follows is more dramatic if we understand how far out of their depth the protagonist is when they find themselves in the new circumstances.

SOLUTION 1: BOOKENDS

There are several solutions to this problem. The first is to use a bookend structure. You start the story with the teacher stuck halfway up the mountain in peril, and then flash back to the beginning, or you can distribute several flashbacks throughout the script.

"Titanic" used the bookend structure, with the old Rose at the start and end, and the story of the young Rose in the middle.

SOLUTION 2: FORESHADOWING

Another option is to foreshadow what is to come. For instance, in the story of a violent home invasion, you might show the home of the family being observed by persons unknown while you establish the members of the family and what their life is like.

In disaster movies, the foreshadowing often is something like a minor earthquake (in advance of The Big One) or a TV weather person making a by-the-way comment about a storm taking an unusual turn, or a kid with a telescope being teased when he thinks he's spotting something strange about the comet that's going by.

SOLUTION 3: DISTRACTION THROUGH ACTION

The James Bond movies had a pattern of showing Bond in the exciting, action-packed finale of a case we didn't know about. Then he would go and get his next assignment. Having already had an adrenalin fix, the audience would be patient while the next case was set up. This could be called distraction through unrelated action.

SOLUTION 4: REVEALING IN REAL TIME

A more challenging but often effective solution is to kick off with the inciting incident and in the course of the story reveal what the protagonist's normal life was like. That is, reveal their normal situation in the story's real time rather than in flashbacks.

For example, in the story of a man who gets kidnapped, normally you would show his family life and maybe his work relationships first, then the inciting incident is his kidnapping. Alternatively, you could start with the kidnapping, and reveal the relationships via how the people in his life react and what they do to try to help him.

GO BACK AND FIX IT

Sometimes writers get stuck trying to come up with the perfect opening scenes and keep rewriting them instead of moving forward.

Don't get hung up on trying to come up with the perfect first act in your first draft. Do the best you can and keep writing through to the end.

When you get ready to do the next draft, ask yourself whether your first act will get and keep the attention of the audience; if not, try the remedies above.

How to write healing stories

At the moment our stories about what is normal are in disarray. It doesn't seem normal not to hug your friends, not to be able to go to the movies, not to be within six feet of people in a store without a mask. The stories we tell ourselves about progress and goals and what's important have been shaken up.

The silver lining is that when old stories are questioned, there's room for new stories to emerge. It seems to me what is needed now is stories that promote healing. 

Clarissa Pinkola Estes writes, in Stories as Medicine, "Stories, particularly healing stories, depend on the amount of self--the gristle, blood, and bone--that the teller is willing to put into them. Not all story is medicine. Generally, a story is not medicine unless it has caused the teller to laugh or to weep."

The teller, not just the listener. In other words, the story has to come from your heart. That doesn't mean it has to be a heavy drama; Groundhog Day and Tootsie are two examples from comedy.

EXAMPLE: HEALING AT MIDLIFE

In Fairy Tales and the Psychology of Men and Women at Midlife, Allan B. Chinen writes, "Before newspapers, radio, or television, fairy tales and folk tales were the only mass media, providing news, commentary, humor and entertainment. Storytellers put insights about their lives and the human condition into their stories. Many dealt specifically with characters in the middle third of life."

He notes, "Mid-life stories emphasize the importance of dealing with life as we find it, not as we imagine or hope it to be. These tales highlight an important point: that growth is possible in the middle years, no matter what kind of childhood one has had."

YOU ARE THE NEW MYTH-MAKER

If you write for TV and movies you are one of the myth-makers now.

Of course, traditionally a lot of commercial television has been treated as the placeholder between the commercials that sell us bogus stories, for instance, if we use shampoo X we'll have a great love life.

A lot of movies are near-duplicates of each other, seeing how many sequels the producers can crank out before we tire of that story.

However, there have always been exceptions and with all the additional outlets available now there's more room than ever before for a wider range of stories--including the one you feel the strong need to tell.

STORIES, NOT SERMONS

While your story has a theme, the screenwriter's or novelist's job isn't to propagandize, it's to say, "Here's an authentic story." Then it's up to the reader or viewer to decide what if means to them and whether there's anything in it they can use.  

THERE'S A BONUS!

I've always found when I've written about a subject close to my heart, it's been therapeutic for me, as well. That's the bonus you get when you write a healing story--at the very least, it helps heal you.

 

What does the new reality mean for screenwriters?

As I write this, there is a great deal of uncertainty about the near-term future of film and TV production. What is certain is that for at least the next year, productions will have to adjust. What does this mean for screenwriters? 

• Strong scripts with limited sets and cast will be more in demand than ever before. Often these have been the province of lower-budget productions, but now the studios will be looking for these more than ever before;
  
  
• The writers (and directors) who can find innovative ways to make those kinds of scripts look and feel bigger than they are will have the advantage. For instance, I'm working on a script that can integrate stock footage to broaden its visual appeal.
  
  
• With streaming services like Netflix, Disney +, Hulu, etc. all trying to attract as many subscribers as possible, the writer with projects that have some kind of novel element will have the advantage. A merely competent traditional script won't stand out.
  
  
• The writer who is most flexible will prevail. New formats will emerge. The biggest prizes will go to those who create them, but there will also be a market for skilled writers who are able to adapt to formats innovated by others.
  
  
• As always, you're selling yourself as well as your material. If you're easy to work with, willing to listen, and deliver on time, you'll be in the top 25% on that basis alone.

We are all experiencing that ancient Chinese curse, "May you live in interesting times." It's not easy, but it's up to us to make the most of the challenges.

What else screenwriters need to study

I had an email saying, "I've done several screenwriting workshops and gained a lot from them. Are there any other courses you think are beneficial for writers?"

Yes! The more you have an understanding of the other aspects of filmmaking, the better. Here are the four I recommend:

ACTING: For finding out what actors look for in a role and what challenges they have saying somebody else's words, nothing beats taking an acting class.

Try to find a beginners' class, ideally one that includes others who want to learn about the craft without necessarily becoming actors. That will make you less self-conscious.

IMPROVISATION: You'll get something different from this than you'll get from a straightforward acting class.

Improv teaches you to think on your feet and quickly immerse yourself in a character. It also stops you from being too precious about any one idea, because you learn that ideas are endless. And it's fun!

EDITING: Find a course that teaches the basics of editing--not the software, but the effects of juxtaposing two things, of short scenes vs. long ones, and of the importance of reaction shots. Filmmakers know the extent to which editing determines whether a movie works or not.

Once you appreciate the basics, you'll find that you're reflecting them in the way you structure your scenes on the page.

DIRECTING: Just as it's helpful to experience what actors look for, the same goes for stepping into the shoes of a director, even if you never intend to direct. You might even discover you have an affinity for it and become a writer/director. 

That's a lot but there's no need to rush into learning it all.

If you can do only one, I'd go for an improv course. To get a taste of how relevant the principles of improvisation are for any of the theatrical arts, read Keith Johnstone's book, Impro: Improvisation for the Theater (one of my favorite books for its insight into human nature). 

Where's the money in screenwriting?

A former student emailed me the other day with a big question:

"Where's the money in screenwriting?

He added, "I don't mean just hitting it lucky and selling one script, but in screenwriting as a career."

Let's look at the categories of screenwriters who are coining it.

THE GONZO ACTION WRITERS

The biggest paychecks go to the writers of the big-budget Hollywood productions, which are mostly action and superhero movies.

There is a small group of experienced writers who excel in these genres and get called on again and again. While you can aspire to join that group, it's too much of a long shot to be a career strategy when you're starting out.

THE ADAPTORS

These are screenwriters who are asked to adapt a novel, play, short story, or article. They may also be asked to develop a story idea from producers or directors who don't write their own material.

To get into this group, it helps to have some credits of your own first, to focus on one genre, and to have a feel for the source material. I was once interviewed about adapting the memoirs of a woman who had undergone a harrowing abduction and rape and once I heard what the subject matter was, I knew I was totally wrong for it, both because I'm not a woman and because I didn't like the thought of spending months in the horrible depths of that story. 

To do well at this kind of writing you need to be able to put your ego aside to some degree and find the balance between serving the source material and adding your own skill as a dramatist to make it work in the medium of film.

THE SCRIPT DOCTORS

Another group that makes good money are the screenwriters who get called in to do script doctoring. Usually, they have one specialty, such as punching up dialogue or fixing story structure.

Unless what they do changes the story significantly, they are not owed a credit. That's useful because if you may be rewriting the work of, say, a well-known writer/director who may not be eager to have it known that their script needed outside help. I did some of this when I was in Hollywood, on movies starring Eddie Murphy, Walter Matthau, and Michael Caine, among others, and it paid well. 

WRITERS WITH AN OUTSTANDING SPEC SCRIPT--BUT NOT FOR THE REASON YOU THINK

Yes, you can get lucky with a spec script that a studio snaps up or, even better, that gets a couple of studios into a bidding war.

As somebody once said about writing plays you hope to get on Broadway, "you can make a killing, but you can't make a living." It happens, but not very often.

It's more likely that an outstanding spec script will lead to work as an adaptor or script doctor, and that's where the more steady money is.

Those two categories constitute a market that is kind of hidden from view and it doesn't give you the same creative satisfaction as writing totally original screenplays, but it's your best bet for paying your bills while still having time to write original spec scripts.

Your spec script has to demonstrate that you have the skill they need. In my case, it was mostly punching up dialogue and fleshing out characters.

You'll need an agent who has good connections to submit you for these assignments. However, once you've done a couple, the word gets around and eventually you'll have people coming to you. How do you get that agent? By writing that outstanding spec script and looking for every opportunity to get someone to read it.

HOW TO GET SOME OF THAT MONEY

I think my former student wasn't just asking where the money is in screenwriting, but also how he could get some of it.

As I said above, you need to write an outstanding script, but what does that really mean? It means your script has to stand out. It's not enough for it to be well-written. That's a start but there are enough well-written scripts around that it also has to have a twist of some kind, some element that is immediately intriguing. 

I'll give you an example. Here are two log lines for possible features:

When the students of a beloved long-retired teacher find out she is in the early stages of Alzheimer's, they band together to let her know how she changed their lives for the better.

When an elderly former criminal in the early stages of Alzheimer's blurts out memories of a stash of gold he buried forty years ago, it sends his formerly close family members into a mad scramble to be the first to find it.

Let's assume both are well-written. Which one do you think would get you more attention?

I believe it's the second one. The first could be a beautiful, heart-warming script; I'm just saying of the two, it wouldn't be the best choice for a writer struggling to break in. And even though the second one has elements of comedy that broaden the appeal of the story, I think it could be written in a way that is respectful to people suffering from that horrible condition.

FIND THE OVERLAP

My final bit of advice to my former student was: find the overlap between what you want to write and what will stand out. 

That's where the money is.

A Simplified Hero's Journey Structure for Scripts

In this video, TV producer/writer Dan Harmon shares the "story circle" he uses to structure storylines for his TV series, "Rick and Morty."

As you'll see, it's kind of a simplified version of the Hero's Journey (click on the text):

DAN HARMON'S STORY CIRCLE (Video: 3min 20seconds)

Is Your Screenplay's Protagonist's Problem Big Enough?

The weakness of a lot of screenplays is that the protagonist's central problem isn't big enough. It has to be something formidable enough to keep them challenged for the entire script.

While many stories are about matters of life and death, the definition of "big" in this case is not objective but rather how important it is to the protagonist. 

You can write a compelling screenplay featuring a character whose goal is objectively small, like winning a school race. The key is making sure it is of huge importance and consequence to the protagonist.

For instance, if the protagonist is a girl who is participating in a contest that is traditionally only for boys and if she's bullied, made fun of, and misunderstood even by the adults in her life we will feel the urgency of her quest and root for her to win. 

IT HAS TO BE RELATABLE

The protagonist's challenge has to be relatable, but not necessarily in its specifics.

For instance, a protagonist may be striving to overcome a challenge with which we don't have any personal experience, but we can all relate to the feeling of having a big goal and having to fight for it.

When you are thinking about the central conflict of your protagonist, consider what makes it relatable for the audience. What is the emotion or goal that's driving the protagonist? For instance, it might be survival against a deadly force, the desire to better themselves, or righting a wrong.

THE PROTAGONIST HAS TO BE RELATABLE, TOO

Going back to the example of the school race, a big part of what makes us care in that example is the underdog nature of the girl. Most of us can relate to being misunderstood, to being made fun of, and to wanting to prove ourselves, just like her. 

In many cases, the protagonist is likable from the start, but that's not essential. As long as they are interesting, we'll stick around, especially if we get the feeling that the story will give them a character arc that transforms them in a positive direction.

THE PROBLEMS HAVE TO ESCALATE

If the problem your protagonist faces seventy minutes in is the same level of difficulty as it was twenty minutes in there's a good chance we'll get bored before we get to minute seventy.

Just as a boxer has to fight opponents of increasing skill levels before taking on the champ, make your protagonist come up against bigger and bigger challenges. Let them have some small wins along the way, too, to keep them motivated, but each step of the way they should be in great danger of failing.

BE MEAN!

A writer I used to know never made it because he was too nice. Even in fiction, he couldn't bring himself to subject somebody to the kind of cruelty you'll have to impose upon your protagonist. In fact, he couldn't even imagine such cruelties in an original way, so his scripts were too derivative, relying on specific plot elements he'd seen in other films. 

Don't be nice--this is one instance when any cruel impulses you may have can be put to good use!

ASK THESE QUESTIONS AT THE IDEA STAGE

It's unfortunate when a writer goes to all the effort of writing a complete screenplay before they discover that one of the above elements is missing.

Actually, often the person who discovers this first is an agent or producer for whom this lack is the reason they reject the script.

You can save yourself a lot of time by making sure at the idea stage that each of these is present. Ask yourself:

• Is the protagonist someone the audience will like or at least find interesting? What is it about them that the audience will find of interest or to which the audience can relate, like being an underdog or being confronted with unfair treatment?
  
  
• Is the challenge one the audience can relate to on a basic level? What is the protagonist's essential drive in facing this challenge, like righting a wrong, protecting their family, etc.?
  
  
• Does the conflict escalate as the story proceeds? What are the major steps of the conflict? (Tip: if you can put them in any different order without affecting the story, they're not escalating.)

If you have a strong answer to each of these questions, the odds are that your story will work.

The two things you have to know about your screenplay or novel plot

Screenplay and novel plots are ambitious, complicated things. I've found that making sure you know the answer to two questions is helpful from start to finish.

 

1. What's the story about?
   
   
2. What's the story REALLY about?
   

 

WHAT'S THE STORY ABOUT?

This simply means, what's the basic idea?

It's similar to a logline, but since the latter is designed to get somebody else interested in the story, it needs to be carefully crafted. That's not necessary here. All that's required is a simple statement like:

"It's about a husband and wife who let their divorce turn into a force that destroys both of them."

"It's about a group of middle-aged male friends whose attempt to re-create a wild night they had when they were in high school ends in disillusion about their past."

"It's about a superhero who has to give up the love of his life in order to keep saving the world."

Notice the elements: the protagonist(s), the conflict, and the outcome.

The answer will guide you through the rest of the process.

If you developed the plot of the first one, for instance, you would check that every major scene revolves around the husband and/or wife, that whatever they do keeps escalating in destructiveness, and that by the end they've both been destroyed (financially, emotionally, or literally).

Sometimes this kind of simple statement reveals that the story is flawed, and it's good to find that out at the start rather than after you've written the whole script or novel. 

For instance: "A man turns to crime in order to raise money for expensive medical treatment for his child but is able to return to the honest ways he prefers when he wins the lottery." What's wrong with this, of course, is that the solution to his problem comes out of nowhere instead of somehow being the result of his struggles.

WHAT IS IT REALLY ABOUT?

Here we're talking about the theme. If you don't decide on one it's more likely you'll lose your way in the writing process.

The three elements (character, conflict, outcome) will point toward the theme.

If the divorcing couple is fighting over who gets what, the theme might be that greed is destructive.

If their conflict stems from a desire for revenge because each thinks the other was responsible for betraying them, the theme could be that revenge is destructive to both parties.

Since the story about the middle-aged men ends badly, the theme could be that it's better to look forward rather than back.

If your story was, "By recreating a night they experienced when they were in high school, a group of middle-aged men rediscover the sense of fun they'd lost," the theme could be that it's never too late to experience the fun of youth."

Which one is right? Whichever one you believe.

If you have a story description for which you can't identify a theme, that may be an indication that the story is flawed.

Going back to the earlier example, what's the theme of, "A man turns to crime in order to raise money for expensive medical treatment for his young son but is able to return to the honest ways he prefers when he wins the lottery?"

I can't think of one.

If the ending is that he gets caught but not before he's paid for the child's treatment, then the theme might be, "No sacrifice is too great for the life of your child."

If the ending is that he gets caught and then it comes out that the child's illness was misdiagnosed and he never actually needed expensive treatment, then the theme might be, "Life is a joker and the joke is on us."

WHICH COMES FIRST, PLOT OR THEME?

Some writers start with a theme they consider important and fashion a story that fits, but in my experience, most start with a character, a moment, or the seed of a story, and then figure out what it's really about.

For example, I'm working on a script about a small group of people who go to a personal development retreat, struggle with their inner demons, and end up getting not what they want but what they need.

The theme is that when you try to find yourself, the person who turns up may not be the one you want to meet.

Note that this story, like most, could be a comedy or a tragedy. Because my experience is that life is a combination of the two, so is my story. 

WHAT IF YOU'RE NOT SURE OF THE THEME AT THE START?

Sometimes it happens that you're not sure of the theme at the start. That's fine, just develop the story until you figure out its basics, especially the ending. When you've done that, the theme will emerge.

AREN'T THESE THEMES SIMPLISTIC?

Yep. That's why you build a story that represents a more sophisticated embodiment of the theme. The theme should be so well clothed in the story that the viewer or reader is not aware of it until much later--if at all. We're telling stories, not preaching sermons. The theme will have an impact on the subconscious level even if the reader or viewer never thinks about it.

"Love conquers all" has spawned a million stories and there's room for a million more. There's also room for stories which suggest that "Love can't conquer all," for those writers who believe that.

KEEP THEM VISIBLE

I recommend that you write the answers to the two questions on an index card or a sticky note that you keep visible as you write. If you get stuck, go back to these and the chances are you'll find your solution.

 

If you're a writer, there are no opportunities

In his book, Creative Mischief, advertising genius Dave Trott writes:

"I hear people complaining that there are no opportunities.

That no one will give them a chance.

There's nothing they can do and it's not their fault.

Here's a thing. 

There have never been any opportunities.

No one was ever feeling sorry for themselves, when someone knocked on the door and said, "How would you like me to show you a way out of this?"

It doesn't happen like that.

Never has, never will.

That's like sitting around hoping to win the lottery.

It's about hope. 

And hope is putting your problem in somebody else's hands,

Hope isn't very creative."

THE ALTERNATIVE TO HOPE IS ACTION

Trott goes on to give some examples of people in the advertising world who took action when there were no opportunities. I've done it a few times myself:

When I moved to Hollywood and had no contacts, I started a newsletter about screenwriting and interviewed agents, producers, and experienced writers. Through those contacts, I was able to get an agent.

When I noticed that there was a new person appointed to be the head of a publishing division for business personal development books, I called to find out her email address. I congratulated her and mentioned that I happened to have an idea for that kind of book and described it in a couple of lines. She asked for more information, then to meet, and eventually published three of my books. 

And one non-business example: When I was a teenager I read in the paper that Rod Serling, the producer, writer, and frontman of my favorite TV series, The Twilight Zone, was ill and in the hospital. I wrote him a letter care of the hospital and got a handwritten thank-you note from him. I cherished that note until it burned up in my house fire, and I still cherish the memory of it.

WHAT IF YOU DON'T FIND THIS EASY?

In case you're thinking, "Sure, you're the kind of person who finds that sort of thing easy." 

Not true.

I've always suffered from what these days is called social anxiety.

One time, I had the chance to go to a basketball game with Walter Matthau and some of his friends--a great networking opportunity. I was too shy to go.

Another time, I signed up for a residential writers' conference sponsored by the Writers Guild. It was a two-hour drive from Los Angeles. I drove all the way there, panicked, and drove all the way back.

However, the times I managed it have accounted for some real breakthroughs, so it's worth the push. If you are frustrated because there don't seem to be any opportunities, try thinking of how you can make some--even if it's a challenge.

How a writer can live with uncertainty

In the time of the Caronavirus, it has never been more obvious that we crave certainty. 

The uncertainties of the creative life aren't at the level of life and death (except in some totalitarian societies, and we're not there...yet). But anybody who wants to make a living from their writing or other art constantly faces uncertainty, including:

Is this thing I've created any good?

Will anybody want to buy it?

If it's put out there, will people like it?

How long will it be before I have a breakthrough--if ever?

Am I wasting my time?

Even when a writer has a success, the doubts remain:

Will my next work be as good as this one?

Was this a fluke?

LIVING WITH UNCERTAINTY

I don't think we can overcome uncertainty, and maybe it's not even a good goal to have. We've all encountered people who are convinced that everything they produce is great and that they are god's gift to humankind. That kind of overconfidence can succeed for a while but usually leads to a downfall eventually.

Perhaps the most appropriate goal is to learn to live with uncertainty. Here are a few things I've found useful:

• Remember that you are not defined by the success or failure of any given project--or even of your entire career. As a writer, you are more than any given project, and as a human you are more than a writer.
  
  
• The value of things is not always clear in the moment. Years ago, my house in the Hollywood hills burned down to the ground. At the time, it seemed like a tragedy. While I still don't think it was a great thing, it did make me consider whether I just wanted to rebuild the house--and my life--in the same form, or use this as an opportunity to make changes. I moved to London, where I met my life partner and have enjoyed my life more than I had in Los Angeles.
  
  
• If you enjoy the process, the outcome has less control over you. I know there are writers who claim they don't enjoy writing. I do, and I think if I didn't, I'd stop doing it. Of course, sometimes it's frustrating and the finished work never totally lives up to my fantasy of it, but the enjoyment outweighs the frustrations by a long way. If you're not enjoying writing, ask yourself why. Is there a different type of writing you could be doing? 
  
  
• If you enjoy writing but worry that you may be wasting your time, what would you be doing with that time if you weren't writing? If you'd be curing cancer by all means switch. But if you'd be watching more TV or doing more crossword puzzles, why not keep writing?
  
  
• It can help to hang out--in person or virtually--with people who are in the same boat. Look for people who are constructive and supportive and avoid the bitter ones who just want someone to listen to their complaints. 

If you have other strategies, let me hear about them in the comments or at [email protected]. When a few have accumulated I'll share them in another post.

What is your character's secret?

One thing that makes a character in a screenplay or novel interesting is their secret.

If you need proof of the power of secrets to attract us, notice how often people trying to sell you something use the lure of secrets, especially secrets that some hypothetical "they" supposedly don't want you to know.

SECRETS ARE NOT ALWAYS NEGATIVE

In character terms, we tend to think of secrets as being about negative things, but they can also be positive, neutral, or open to interpretation:

• The person who anonymously pays another person's bill;
• Someone who, even in middle age, still harbors dreams of becoming famous;
• The woman who lets her husband think their child is his, even though she knows it isn't.

HOW SECRETS INFLUENCE PLOTS

While it can be interesting to consider what secrets your characters might harbor, the important secrets are those that influence the story in some way. 

A story typically confronts your protagonist with an internal as well as an external conflict, and a secret can be useful in both.

A dark secret may influence how open a character is about their background, and it can make them take drastic action to preserve the secret.

An embarrassing secret can be especially useful in a comedy.

A secret goal may suddenly set your protagonist on a new path if something happens to make the goal more accessible. 

Sometimes the secret just helps us to understand the character better, other times the entire plot revolves around a secret. Let's look at some examples.

SECRETS IN MOVIES

If you think back to your favorite movies you may find that secrets played a significant role. Here are a few of mine:

Citizen Kane revolves around that secret of the meaning of "rosebud," Charles Foster Kane's last word.

In Sunset Boulevard, the young screenwriter hides his relationship to the old movie star.

In Schindler's List, Schindler has to keep his intentions secret from the Nazis.

In The Wizard of Oz, the Wizard has to keep it a secret that he's just a mortal.

In E.T., the boy has to keep the alien secret from the feds.

In Silence of the Lambs, the FBI cadet tries to keep her fear and her background secret, but Hannibal Lector figures them out.

In Some Like it Hot and Tootsie, characters have to keep it a secret that they are men pretending to be women.

In Romeo and Juliet, the young lovers have to keep their relationship a secret from their families.

In Hamlet, the Prince has to keep it secret that he suspects his uncle poisoned his father.

In A Streetcar Named Desire, Blanche tries to hide several facts about her past.

The list goes on!

WHAT'S YOUR CHARACTER'S SECRET?

You can start with a secret that could be the center of an interesting plot, or if you already have a plot, you can think about what kind of secret would be useful in making a character more interesting and what useful effect it could have on the plot.

A secret can also be useful when you know you need your protagonist to do something in order to advance the plot, but there's no obvious reason for them to do so. You may be able to plant a  secret early in the story that justifies their later action.

And that's the secret of using secrets in stories!

 

 

More on how and why to make your writing distinctive

"In large measure becoming an artist consists of learning to accept yourself, which makes your work personal, and in following your own voice, which makes your work distinctive."

from "Art and Fear," by David Bayles and Ted Orlando

That's easier said than done, of course. It's difficult not to start thinking about whether the marketplace will want what you create, which usually leads down the road of doing what's been done before, in a familiar style. That, in turn, makes your work less likely to stand out.

Here's a fact that is often missed: If you write something distinctive, something very different from what is out there now, it may not sell. But it will get you noticed, and getting noticed is the key to getting hired or getting people to ask to see what else you have written.

What if you're not sure what your voice is or should be? It's not something you decide. It's something that emerges when you write a lot. It may be that you're the last to notice it because it's so natural to you. 

Beware of books and teachers who try to "smooth out" your writing. They are not your friends.

I'm not suggesting you shouldn't learn the craft of writing. You absolutely should. But once you have mastered that, let the story itself and your intuition play a strong role in shaping what you write. 

image by Stefano Ferrario

Does your screenplay or novel story stand out?

The script pipeline is clogged not only with bad scripts but also with OK scripts.

An OK script is the right length, has a story that hangs together, is populated with mostly believable characters, and has no major formatting problems.

OK is not good enough, despite the fact that there are plenty of just OK movies. Many of those started out as better scripts but gradually changed to just OK under the weight of the demands of the actors, the ego of the director, and/or the fear-based decisions of the producer. 

What you need to do is write an outstanding script--as the adjective says, one that stands out. 

That starts with a fresh idea. Yes, it's true there are no totally new stories, but there certainly are fresh ways of telling the old ones. Recent movies I'd put in that category include Jo Jo Rabbit, The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then the Bigfoot (I"m not making that up, it starred Sam Elliot), Midsommar, Ad Astra, Hustlers, Parasite, Booksmart, Peanut Butter Falcon, Honey Boy, Us, The Lighthouse, Yesterday. I'm not saying these were all the best, but they all had something different about them that made them stand out, and quite a few of them were very good.

What's the difference?

If you analyze the films above, you'll see how they differentiated themselves. That includes:

• Telling the story from an unusual perspective or with an unusual protagonist 
•  Telling a story some might find uncomfortable
• Telling a classic story with a contemporary touch 
• Telling the story of an alternative reality
• Telling a story of emotional extremes

In the best of these films, the level of writing was very good, too. For instance, I thought Booksmart had some of the smartest dialogue I've heard for a while. But it starts with the idea.

Before you commit to your story, take some time to consider whether it stands out from the ordinary. If not, try applying the characteristics above to your core idea. 

It's not about the setback, it's about the (writing) comeback

"It's not about the setback, it's about the comeback" is a phrase I saw the other day and it really stood out to me.

Some people have used this weird time to double down on their writing, but many others have found even if they had more time it has been really hard to focus. That can easily spiral down into a long-term abandonment of your writing.

If you've had a writing setback, let's start thinking about your comeback.

Sometimes comebacks take the form of a splash of glory: a dramatic event that shows you're back. In writing terms, this could be putting aside a full weekend for nothing but re-starting your writing. Turn off your internet access, warn your significant others that you're going to be busy and not to be interrupted unless bleeding is involved. Turn off your inner critic, too. This session is about cranking out a lot of words. You'll be rewriting some of them later but, for now, just get the flow going again.

Other comebacks take the form of small steps. Fifteen minutes a day, maybe thirty. In this form, consistency is the key. Make a commitment to yourself and maybe to others that you're going to write for at least fifteen minutes per day for the next thirty days. On days when it's flowing and you have time, keep writing. On days it's not flowing, write something anyway. You can always throw it out later. 

With either approach, it won't be long before the comeback overshadows the setback!

ps: If you need some guidance, see my book, Your Writing Coach, available from Amazon or your other favorite bookseller.