Time to Write

Writing the all-important first page/ first scene of your novel or screenplay

The first page of your novel or the first scene of your screenplay is really important--it can make the difference between somebody immediately being hooked or breathing a sigh of 'been there, done that.' 

At the same time, being weird just for the sake of being weird won't work, either--if the first thing that happens doesn't have a strong connection to what follows, the reader will feel like how we all feel when we fall for click-bait on the internet. Cheated.

It's easy to get hung up on what the first scene should be, which is why it's a mistake to assume you have to get this right in your first draft.

For the first draft, do the best you can but know that you will come back to it when rewriting. It's much easier to come up with a powerful first scene when you've written the whole work. Often, a new opening will be inspired by something that happens later in the story.

DEAD MAN TALKING!

One of the most memorable opening scenes is from "Sunset Boulevard." It shows the street sign, Sunset Blvd, and police cars and speeding somewhere. Cops and reporters rush to a swimming pool in which floats the body of a dead man.

That's already an arresting image (no pun intended), but it gets better. In voice-over, a man describes the scene...and then we realize that it's the dead man himself, setting up how it all got to this point. 

It was a daring move, it could easily have been considered funny, but it was done so smoothly that it worked, an integral part of one of my top ten movies of all time.

Can you think of an equally daring start to your novel or screenplay? It's worth giving a lot of thought!

 

How does Pixar do it? Read the Toy Story 4 script and find out.

Pixar may be the most successful production company in terms of number of hits per number of films made. One of the most beloved franchises is the Toy Story movies, Here you can read the script for Toy Story 4. Does it hold up? You be the judge (reading scripts is an important part of getting better at writing them).

https://pmcdeadline2.files.wordpress.com/2019/12/toy-story-4-script-1.pdf

The script is for educational purposes only, not for resale. 

Two Screenplays Worth Studying

If you are interested in writing screenplays it's always worthwhile studying ones others have written.

Recently, Spike Lee released the screenplay for his unproduced film about Jackie Robinson, the first African American to play in the major leagues. You can read that script here.

In 2013, a film called "42," also about Jackie Robinson, was released. It was written and directed by Brian  Helgeland and starred Chadwick Boseman and Harrison Ford.

Rotten Tomatoes called "42" an "earnest, inspirational, and respectfully told biography." Critics rated it at 80%, the audience score was 85%.  You can read the script here.

I suggest you read both scripts.

I found "42" a little TOO earnest and didn't like the fact that the first page basically tells you the whole story. Lee's opening scene drew me in more, but both scripts have their strong and weak points. 

Which one do you think works better?

Why?

What can you learn from the strengths and weaknesses of each?

 

 

 

What's the secret of writing comedy?

So you want to write comedy?

Here's the problem: humor is subjective. What makes one person double over with laughter just elicits a groan from another. That's why writing comedy probably requires a little more self-confidence than writing other genres. At least you have to fake it long enough to finish the script and send it out.

How do you do it? Here's what writer Ian Southwood said about that in Screencraft magazine recently:

"I used to write what I thought other people would think is funny, always second-guessing my own sense of humor...But it never works. Never. Trying to write like someone else is like wearing a rented tuxedo. It doesn't fit. Not like it should. Now I just try to be honest, with the writing and with myself."

To the degree that there's a secret to comedy writing, that's it:

Keep it honest.

Honest to yourself and, equally importantly, honest to the characters.

Never have a character do something just because it's funny.

However crazy what they say or what they do may be, it should feel like something they would actually do.

If you want your character to beat a car with a tree branch (a famous scene from Fawlty Towers, starring John Cleese), create a character who is so full of pent-up frustration that this action is not only funny but believable. 

The source of both the humor and the plausibility is the character's attitude to the world.

Take the leads of the Odd Couple as an example. Oscar is a lazy slob, Felix is a compulsive neurotic. Put them in the same situation and they would have totally different reactions--which could both be funny.

I served my comedy writing apprenticeship with TV writer Danny Simon and I've never forgotten his most important advice: "Never sacrifice a character for a laugh."

What he meant was if you have a character do something they wouldn't really do, you may get a laugh but you've destroyed their believability.

Huh, turns out honesty is the best policy, even in comedy writing.

 

 

Is your screenplay structure strong enough?

In a previous post, I shared some questions that Hollywood script readers ask in order to tell whether the big idea of a story will work. In this post, we look at the questions that apply to the plot and structure of your script:

1. Does the first scene grab our attention?

Often this can be done with a strong visual image or an unusual action. What question will be in the audience's mind when they watch the first scene or two? It doesn't have to be something epic. For instance, if we see a child crying, we immediately wonder why.

2. Do the first couple of scenes make it clear whose story this will be--and is it someone we can relate to?

Occasionally it may work to start with someone other than the protagonist, but usually that's who we want to see first or at least very soon.

Your protagonist doesn't have to be likable, but they DO have to be interesting and we have to be able to relate to them in some way. For instance, the first scenes in the classic, The Godfather, introduces us to the title character on the day of his daughter's wedding. We may not be able to relate to him in his role as a mobster, but everybody can relate to him as a doting father.

3. Does your protagonist have a strong goal? What's at stake?

Not every story has to be life-or-death, but it has to feel that way to your protagonist. For a nerdy kid, winning the contest to be Prom King can feel as important and desperate as a rock climber's quest to save their life as they hang from a cliff. 

The goal should be one to which the audience can relate, and If there's no strong consequence if the protagonist fails, we won't care. 

4. Does the story feature a series of obstacles that get in the way of the character's goal?

Sometimes there's a villain who is trying to thwart your protagonist, but the obstacle can also be a force of nature (fire, floods, meteors), or aliens, or something else. If the main obstacle is internal (like an addiction) you have to figure out how to represent it externally (or write a novel instead).

5. Do the obstacles escalate?

Each new hurdle should be harder than the last, otherwise there's no sense of momentum. If the obstacles could occur in any order the events will feel random rather than motivated. As much as possible, keep them linked by cause and effect.

For example, let's say your story is about a poor couple that wants to get married. One obstacle is that her parents are opposed. They throw a few roadblocks in the couple's way, but the lovers get in a car and leave town.

They think they're in the clear when suddenly they hear a police siren. The police arrest the guy for stealing his own car because the young woman's father reported it as his stolen car. 

While he's in jail waiting for the mistake to be corrected, the guy meets a sympathetic guard who says his brother in another city will hire him if he goes there. What the guy doesn't know is that the guard is corrupt and has hidden something illegal in the guy's possessions when they're returned to him. Of course, this leads to more danger. It's not the greatest story but the point is that you can see the logical chain of cause and effect.

Naturally, there should be variations in pacing. At times your protagonist should seem to be winning--only to encounter an even bigger obstacle. 

6. Are there surprises along the way?

Audiences have seen a lot of movies. If they're consistently one step ahead of the plot, they''ll get bored. The surprises have to make sense in the context of the story, rather than being arbitrary.

7. Is the ending logical yet unpredictable--and a consequence of the actions of your protagonist?

If the ending comes out of the blue--for instance, as a result of the actions of a peripheral character--the audience will feel cheated.

The same is true if your ending depends on coincidence. A good rule of thumb is, "You can use coincidence to get your characters into trouble, but not out of trouble."

Sometimes you can't get around the ending being predictable: it's not likely that Lex Luther will succeed in killing Superman, for example. In that case, you have to come up with a surprise in how the ending comes about.

RELATED: IS YOUR SCREENPLAY STORY STRONG ENOUGH?

How Albert Einstein can help you rewrite your book or screenplay

Do you get stuck when you set out to do another draft of a screenplay, novel, or other creative project?

Albert Einstein allegedly said, "We cannot solve our problems with the same level of thinking that created them."

He wasn't talking about writing, but I think it applies.

When we write fiction, we're in a kind of dreaming state. We imagine what might happen and what people might say. It's a highly intuitive state, unless we are slavishly following a formula or template (not recommended if you want your work to be original).

If we stay in that state when we try to figure out how our first draft could be improved, often we'll either draw a blank or come up with something that makes the work different, but not necessarily better. 

The trick (thanks, Mr Einstein) is to move to a different level. In this case, the critical level.

The creative level vs. the critical level

The writing process is subjective, the critical level is analytical.

When you write, you're on the inside, in the moment with your characters. When you critique, you're looking at them from the outside and you can take a step back to assess the big picture.

How to switch levels

One way to change your mental state is to change your physical state first. 

• To snap out of the creative state, do a bit of movement--a brief brisk walk or a few stretches
  
  
• Move to a different location, even if just across the room from where you write
  
  
• Change your body position. Instead of sitting upright in a chair, lean back in an easy chair

Another strategy is to make the material seem less familiar, more like it's something someone else wrote since it's always easier for us to be objective about someone else's work.

• Print the script rather than viewing it on a screen
  
  
• Print it on different color paper
  
  
• Print it using a different font from the one on the screen
  

Remember you're a critic now, not a creator.

• Just like a professional critic would do, start by considering the totality of the work and identify any big problems. Read through the entire script and consider whether it has any major issues that will impact multiple scenes. Jot down your conclusions. For instance, a review I read recently said that the film couldn't decide whether it wanted to be a comedy, a satire, or a drama with amusing moments.
  
  
• Next, go through the script scene by scene and note weak points, inconsistencies, or other issues. For instance, when I go back to the first scene in a screenplay I ask myself whether it immediately creates a question in the minds of the reader (and, later, the audience). If they're curious, they'll want to continue reading or watching. 
  
  
• Don't try to solve these problems. A critic's role is to point out the good and bad points of a work, not to fix it. If a solution occurs to you, go ahead and note it but do not make any changes in the script--doing so will flip you out of the critical state.

Time to go back to the creator's state

When you've finished making your critical notes, go back to your usual work station and get back into the creative state. You'll have a list of things to fix but not how to fix them.

For instance, maybe one note is that the opening scene, an argument between the protagonist and his father at the dad's apartment, is too talky and doesn't make a visual impression. Now you can imagine how it would play out if, for example, it took place in public, or if the father showed his anger physically. Because you'll be tuned back into the characters, you'll think of options that are what they would actually do, not an arbitrary solution.

Keep shuttling back and forth

You don't have to wait to make all the changes before you go back into the critical state. You can take a printout of an individual scene to your critic's easy chair and assess whether the problem has been solved. This back-and-forth continues until you've made it the best you can.

Warning: don't do this just in your head!

Resist the temptation to think that it's just as easy to make the mental switch without the other changes I've suggested above. Yes, some people can do it, especially after years of practice, but it's difficult and often trying to create and judge at the same time leads to writer's block.

 

Is your screenplay story strong enough? Five questions that will reveal the answer

It's hard to be objective about your own work, but a good start is knowing what questions to ask.

A few years ago I came upon a Hollywood script reader's checklist--the questions they used in deciding whether or not a screenplay is worth recommending. In this post, I'll share the questions that relate to the basic story of your screenplay. I think they'd be useful if you're writing a novel as well:

1.   Imagine the trailer. Is the concept marketable?

Of course, nobody really knows what will be successful, but it helps if you can imagine how it might be marketed to catch people's attention.

2. Is the premise naturally intriguing? Does it make people want to know what happens?

A good way to test this is to tell people your premise. If they don't ask you questions about it, the idea may not be interesting enough.

3. Who is the target audience? Would your parents want to see it? Your children?

It's not that your script has to appeal to everybody, you just have to be clear from the start who you are targeting. For one thing, if it's an epic that's going to cost a lot to make, it had better have a broad appeal.

4. Is the concept original?

There's nothing new under the sun, but what aspect of your version makes it fresh and worth telling again? I know, there are plenty of movies that are tired retreads, but that's not what you want for your story.

5. Is there strong emotion at the heart of the story?

People go to movies to feel something--to be scared, or to laugh, or for the satisfaction of seeing rotten people get their comeuppance. Does your story have the potential to transport the audience out of their ordinary lives and give them an emotional experience they will enjoy and talk about with their friends?

Answer these questions as honestly as you can, and call on your gut feelings as well as logic.

Sometimes I've caught myself rationalizing that the story works but knowing in my gut or heart that it really doesn't.

That will catch up with you eventually, so it's much better to respond to it early on. That way you can fix it or move on to another idea.

If you have strong, honest answers to these questions and the ones coming up in the next post, you'll also have all the ingredients for a great pitch.

Post coming soon: IS YOUR SCREENPLAY PLOT AND STRUCTURE STRONG ENOUGH?

Which is better--revenge or forgiveness?

If you're writing a screenplay or novel, you may want to opt for revenge.

According to Science Daily, "When it comes to entertainment, people enjoy seeing bad guys get their punishment more than seeing them be forgiven, a new study reveals.

But even though they don't enjoy the forgiveness stories as much, people do find these narratives more meaningful and thought-provoking than ones in which the bad guys receive their just deserts.

"We like stories in which the wrongdoers are punished and when they get more punishment than they deserve, we find it fun," said Matthew Grizzard, lead author of the study and assistant professor of communication at The Ohio State University."

Maybe the best bet are stories in which your wronged protagonists exact revenge...and then forgive themselves.

 

Three Dark Writing Moments More Common Than You Thought

Most writers would agree that while writing can be a great joy, it also carries its share of dark moments. When we're in the middle of one, it's easy to assume that we're alone feeling that way. Members of a panel of screenwriters discussed some of the darker moments they've experienced:

Noah Baumbach (writer/director, "Marriage Story") said for him it's starting each new project feeling overwhelmed and like he's forgotten how to write.

Rian Johnson (writer/director, "Knives Out") said it's the moment on every project when the initial excitement for the idea wears off.

Taiki Waititi
(writer/director "Jojo Rabbit") said it was when he was pitching "Jojo Rabbit" and nobody understood the tone he was going for.

Hmm, dark moments when you're starting to write, in the middle, and when you're done and trying to sell the script. One for each phase of the process!

So what's the solution?

I don't think it's trying to fight these feelings.

It's accepting that they are normal.

That it's not just us. 

That they'll pass.

...if we just keep putting down the words. 

 

Watch our for scams that target aspiring screenwriters

Writers tend to be hopeful souls eager to get our work seen, which also makes us vulnerable to scammers or people selling services unlikely to help you sell your script. Here are a few things to consider.

SCREENWRITING CONTESTS

• If a writing contest has high entry fees and low-value prizes, think twice about entering. 
  
  
• Just as with the lottery, most people who enter writing contests don't win. Yes, somebody will win but before you pay the entry fee, consider whether it's the best use of your money. Have past winners gotten verifiable attention for their scripts? 
  
  
• If a contest claims their winners have projects in pre-production, be aware that "in pre-production" can mean "some producer says they'll read it," or "somebody is sort of interested," or "somebody who wants to be a producer is trying to find the money"...or it can mean nothing at all.
  
  
• If a contest doesn't tell you who is judging it, beware. If they do name them, look them up at imdb.com (International Movie Database) to see whether they have any credits. 

MARKETING SERVICES

• Just because somebody says that they'll send your logline to hundreds of producers doesn't mean the producers will read them. Two have told me they routinely throw these kinds of mailings away.
  
  
• Producers are not interested in looking at storyboards of your screenplay. It's a waste of money to have a service create one for you.
  
  
• Your screenplay doesn't need a website. Sure, you can set up a website that includes information about yourself, but if there's information that's relevant (e.g., your protagonist is a cop and you are a cop), put it in your query letter.
  
  
• Nobody wants to watch a trailer for your unproduced screenplay. Having somebody make one for you is a waste of money. 

AGENTS 

• Reputable agents don't charge a reading fee or any other kind of fee. They get a commission when they sell your work. 

If you've run across any other dubious services for writers, feel free to add them in a comment.

Your weakness can become your strength

What if your weakness could also be your strength?

In the previous post, I wrote about Dana Terrace, who persisted with an idea for a TV series that her colleague called dumb. The Owl House was renewed for a second season by Disney before the first one even aired. 

In an interview in the L. A. Times, Terrace mentioned feeling left out when she was a kid because she was kind of an oddball. She patterned one of the series' main characters on herself. She says, "He's just a little guy that wants to be big, so I always related to him. He's tiny and no one takes him seriously. He just wants to be taken seriously."

The reason I wanted to revisit this topic is that I think it demonstrates not only the power of persistence in the face of discouragement but also how we can turn what other people see as a weakness into a strength.

This is especially so for writers and artists because supposed weaknesses make great material. People will relate because everybody feels defective in some way, even the most apparently confident ones.

I did something similar in an animated series I created, called Norman Normal. The premise was that Noman is the only normal one in a family of superheroes. Even his baby sister and his dog have powers.

I think this mirrors the feeling of a lot of kids that they're surrounded by parents how have all the power and other kids who are smarter, better looking, or more talented. Of course, it was always Norman who came up with the solutions or was able to help his superhero family win the day. I hope some kids watching the show were comforted or inspired by that.

TURN IT AROUND FOR FUN AND PROFIT

Sometimes we avoid writing about our weaknesses and fears, even in the form of fiction, because they make us uncomfortable.

I'm suggesting that if you face your weakness or your fear and turn it into art--a script, a novel, a short story, a painting--you may end up creating your most powerful and appealing work. It could even be your most profitable work--56 episodes of Norman Normal were produced and because I had a good "created by" deal, it was quite lucrative.

This process can also be therapeutic, as I discovered when I wrote a play called "Killing Mother." (No, my mom never saw it.)

You don't have to make the work directly autobiographical--in fact, usually it's better if you give yourself a lot of leeway to fictionalize so that you can serve the story instead of being bound by the limitations of reality.

At the moment, I'm doing this with a screenplay called Leaving It Behind, about a criminal facing the end of his life. It was triggered when I had to have open-heart surgery and considered the (admittedly slim) chance that I might not make it. I'm not a criminal nor do I have a terminal illness (the operation went well) but the story incorporates a lot of my fears and thoughts at the time.

Maybe you're already doing this, but it may be worth checking whether there's anything in the darker corners of your psyche that you might turn around by putting it at the heart of your next project.

Can You Learn to Write Funny?

An old friend who teaches at a performing arts school recently asked me to look at a script for a short film, written by one of his students, that they are planning to film. It's the story of a young man who decides that using his gift for comedy is more important than going to college.

The problem with the script is that the writer doesn't have a gift for comedy and therefore neither does the character. If you're going to write a convincing funny character, you have to be able to be funny yourself. That brings me to a question I've been asked quite a few times:

CAN YOU LEARN TO WRITE FUNNY?

Sorry, but I think the answer is no. If you are naturally funny, certainly you can learn how best to channel that into screenplays or novels or essays, and the difference between writing for stand-up, sketches, sitcoms, movies, and plays. You can also learn how how to compose works that integrate comedy and drama.

However, if you don't start with a knack for comedy--which usually means you have an ability to see things from a different perspective--reading a book about the theory of threes, or why words starting with consonants are funnier than words that start with vowels, or that exaggeration is important, probably will not work for you. 

HOW TO FIND OUT WHETHER YOU'RE FUNNY

If you don't know whether or not you're funny (plenty of people who aren't, think they are), ask an honest friend whether they think humor is one of your greatest strengths.

That gives them the chance to say, "Hey, sure you're funny, but actually I think your greatest strengths are (x, y, z)."

Translation: "You're not funny." 

WHAT IF YOU'RE NOT FUNNY?

Write to your strengths. If you're not naturally funny, write drama, thrillers, horror, romance, or any of the other genres. Your gift, like that of my friend's student, may lie in other areas. 

 

The best opening for your screenplay or novel

I just read an article about Stephen King's new book, The Institute. The person who wrote the article admires King's novels but in this one he got to chapter 7 and there was still no story.

The Amazon blurb for the novel reads, "In the middle of the night, in a house on a quiet street in suburban Minneapolis, intruders silently murder Luke Ellis’s parents and load him into a black SUV."

That's intriguing, but even by chapter 7 there was no hint of that story.

Of course, King has millions of followers who are happy to let him take his time to get the story going, but the rest of us will do better to follow the advice to open your novel or screenplay with something intriguing going on that draws us in and has a strong connection to where the story is going. 

THE PROBLEM WITH NORMAL 

Usually, the first chapters or script pages are about the normal life of the protagonist, before the inciting incident that draws them into the main story. That allows us to identify with them and gives us a sense of their strengths and weaknesses. For instance, in a story about a teacher who is falsely accused of having an inappropriate relationship with a student, the first act of a screenplay or the first chapters of a novel would give us a sense of the life that's about to be destroyed. The problem, of course, is that normal life typically isn't very compelling.

FORESHADOW WITH A HINT

Foreshadowing is giving a clue about what's going to be happening later. In our example story, we might have the teacher discipline several students for a prank. One of them comments to the friend who leads their little clique that he's surprised the friend isn't more upset about it. That student says, "That's OK. She won't be teaching our class--or any class--for much longer." OK, maybe a little heavy-handed, but it makes us wonder what he has in mind and we know it's not going to be good. That keeps us interested and buys the writer some time to get more into the life of the protagonist. 

FORESHADOW WITH A METAPHOR

If you can't foreshadow with an incident directly tied to the story, sometimes you can foreshadow with an incident that serves as a metaphor. For instance, during the teacher's happy birthday party there's a scream as one of the guests spots a rat running through the kitchen. Even though rats will not be playing a role in the rest of the story, it gives a hint that in the midst of this happy norm, there's a dark element that will disrupt her life.

This is especially useful if you have a story in which the tone changes drastically as the story goes on. It helps to prepare the reader or viewer on a subconscious level for what's to come.

USING BOOKENDS

You can open at the end of the story if it's exciting or intriguing, flash back to the start, build to the same ending moment with which you began. For instance, you might start a script with your protagonist on the gallows. As the noose is placed around his neck, he turns to the camera and says, "It all started so innocently..." Then you flash back to how it started and continue until we're at the moment with which you started. Then, either he dies, or he manages to get out of being hanged and is available for a sequel.

Another example is Titanic, in which we see old Rose at the start and end, but the core story belongs to young Rose.

OPENINGS TO AVOID

One opening to avoid that I've seen sometimes in novels and short stories is something like, "Little did Posie know that in a mere few days her life would change forever." Clunk!

A dream, especially a nightmare, as an opening tends to feel like a cheat, especially if we don't know it's a dream. 

Prologues can work but tend not to be popular with publishers. Sometimes the prologue is a moment in the heart of the action, a preview of what's to come, and then the novel starts back at the beginning. Or they might show, for instance, a trio of witches brewing up a curse that will come into play later in the story. 

IF YOU CAN'T THINK OF A WAY TO FORESHADOW

If you can't think of a good idea for foreshadowing as you write the first pages, don't worry. It can be easier to come up with that idea after you've gotten farther into the story or even completed the first draft. Often, I'll just write the first act without it and then go back and add it.

And once you get to be as popular as Stephen King, you won't have to worry about it!

Write Like Nobody's Watching

Actually, nobody IS watching. So for your first draft, feel free to be as clumsy, daring, or crazy as you like.

Put it aside for a while.

Then look at it.

    What were you thinking!?

    That's TOO crazy!

    Or it just plain sucks.

The good news is, STILL nobody's watching.

You get to rewrite it as often as you want.

Or maybe more times than you want, but you keep going because you know it's not quite as good as you can make it yet.

Then, finally, when it's ready, you send it out. 

NOW somebody's watching.

They may still say it's too crazy or wonder what you were thinking or that it sucks.

If they have constructive criticism or you suddenly see another way to improve it, great, back to the desk with it. 

If not, keep sending it out until it finds a champion.

Meanwhile, write another thing like nobody's watching.

Bad writing advice from the web

The web is full of good advice. It's also full of bad advice.

Here's some bad screenwriting advice:

"Quite frankly, Hollywood people don't like to read; the first time they see so much as a simple metaphor in your scene description, their eyes are likely to glaze over in incomprehension and they'll slap your front cover down with a definitive 'nope.'"

That's in a book of essays giving writing advice and it's totally wrong. The first person your script will encounter is somebody who reads a lot of scripts and is grateful when they find one that's enjoyable to read. A fitting metaphor or simile can help make the images come alive, as shown by these two examples from the screenplay for Fargo, by the Coen brothers:

"A car bursts through the curtain of snow..."

"She screams, staring at her own imprisoned wrist..."

Illustrating a sense of style and humour in descriptions, this is from the screenplay for The Favourite, by Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara:

"ABIGAL, an open, friendly innocent woman is crushed to the side [of the carriage]. She clutches a dirty purse and a letter in her hands. Two kids, snot streaming from their noses, cough TB into the air."

Here's an example in a character description, from The Imitation Game, by Graham Moore--it's not a metaphor or simile but it's the kind of thing that the "only the actable facts!" absolutists object to:

"DETECTIVE ROBERT NOCK, 40's, athletic, more interested in football than in being a detective, hustles past a few double-parked police cars..."

Finally, this example from Logan, screenplay by Scott Frank & James Mangold and Michael Green:

"Logan cruises the wet El Paso streets. LCD Billboards for chemically enhanced life. Gang graffiti on self-driving buses. A kaleidoscope of moments, dark and mundane."

I doubt anybody slapped down the front covers of these screenplays with a definitive 'nope' and I feel sorry for any aspiring screenwriters who buy into the idea that employing a well-chosen metaphor is a prescription for failure in Hollywood.

Probably the best strategy for spotting dodgy advice is to keep your eyes open for absolutes. When you see phrases like, "If your screenplay is one page longer than 120...," or "If your script contains even one metaphor..." you're probably looking at bad advice.