Time to Write

The key to great characters is "why"

You always hear about how important it is for your protagonist to have a goal. That's true, but equally important is the "why" behind their goal. You'll create a better-defined and more compelling character if you also spent time coming up with the most powerful motive for their actions. 

Let's say that both Adam and Gary have the goal of completing a marathon.

Adam wants to do it to raise money for a charity. Not a bad reason.  It suggests that Adam is a good guy, willing to go out of his way to benefit others.

Gary wants to do it because his daughter is running and he wants to show her that he can actually follow through doing something together--which he never did when she was growing up. He hopes she'll give him a chance to be a better father.

Which character do you think you would care about more? 

I think it would be Gary because his goal is personal and emotional. If we've ever let anybody down or have ever hoped for a second chance in any relationship, we may identify with him at least a little. 

WHAT'S AT STAKE?

The other difference is that if the charity doesn't get the money one participant hoped to raise it probably won't be a huge blow. But if Gary doesn't finish, or at least make a massive effort, his daughter will feel he hasn't changed and there's no reason to trust him now. We can imagine how painful that would be for both of them.

The more your protagonist has at stake, the more we will care about their goal. What's at stake doesn't have to be objectively huge. Sure, in many stories it's a matter of life and death; however, you can get equal drama from a story in which what's at stake is whether a young girl is able to earn $20 to buy her ailing mother a Mother's Day gift. Her "why" is that she wants to show her mother how much she loves her.

THE "HOW" CAN CHANGE, THE "WHY" USUALLY STAYS THE SAME

Sometimes in the course of the story, the protagonist realizes the "how" they have chosen is not actually going to deliver the result they want. For instance, Adam might start off thinking he can buy his daughter's forgiveness with presents. But then he realizes he will have to give of himself instead, and that's when he signs up for the marathon.

Likewise, maybe the little girl comes to understand that something she makes herself will mean more to her mother than anything she could buy.

Thinking about the different ways that your characters try to fulfill their "why" can be a rich source of incidents and turning points for your plot.

DON'T FORGET THE ANTAGONIST

Antagonists have their own "why" as well--or at least they should. If they don't, they won't seem three-dimensional. An antagonist who does evil things just for the sake of being evil comes across like a cartoon character. An antagonist who does evil things for a reason we can understand is much more realistic. 

REVEALING THE "WHY" IS PART OF THE AUDIENCE ARC

The character arc refers to the transformation your protagonist undergoes as a result of the events of the story. There can also be an audience arc. By that, I mean a change in how the audience sees your character. Let's look at an example:

Recently I saw a reality show in which a restaurant owner was hostile to customers who asked for any minor change in a dish (like 'no onions'). Why? It turned out that when she was a child she was constantly criticized for not being able to do anything right and told she would never amount to anything. When a customer asked for a change in an item, the restaurant owner heard it as another insult and she responded angrily. When that was revealed it changed the way I regarded her.

A movie that has an audience arc is "As Good As It Gets," in which the Jack Nicholson character was mean and seemed to try hard to make sure nobody would like him. As the story goes on, though, we come to understand how he got that way, and it changes how we regard him. He also has a character arc, but our feelings about him change before he does.

The shift in an audience's perceptions is one of many ways of keeping them involved in your story.

HINTS MAY BE ENOUGH

If understanding the 'why" is crucial to your story, you may want to go into some detail and maybe even use flashbacks to reveal it. However, that's not always necessary. Often giving the audience some hints is enough to have them become more invested in your story. 

A great starting point: What do you want your readers to feel?

Halloween stories and horror movies are always about making people feel scared, but every kind of writing has the goal of making the reader or viewer feel something. Deciding what that is can help you develop your plot and characters.

Ads provide a good model. Some companies create new things to fear. When I was young there was a campaign with the slogan “No more ring around the collar!” in which people spotted that a man’s inside collar had a ring around it (due to poor washing powder) and were repulsed. “Ring around the collar” was sung in a kids’ mocking way and implied that people would think you were dirty. The way to avoid this humiliation was to use Wisk laundry detergent.

EMOTIONS ARE THE GATEWAY TO YOUR STORY

To bring the reader into the world of your story, it helps to have four elements:

• A protagonist with whom they can identify on an emotional level. If you introduce us to a character who yearns for love, for instance, it doesn't matter whether it's a prince or pauper, an innocent young girl or a lonely widow, a little mouse or the last dinosaur on earth. It's the emotion that is the basis of the reader's or viewer's bond with the character. 
  
  
• A tangible goal the protagonist pursues. While we may identify with the character's emotional state, our interest will wane if they don't soon start doing something to try to get whatever they need or think they need. Sometimes we become aware quickly that they are taking the wrong route to get their need met, and that will make us curious whether they'll recognize their error and do something else. 
  
  
• An antagonist who gets in the way.  This could be a love rival, for instance, or a person who has some kind of power over them. As you may have noticed as you've gone through life, a person can also be their own worst enemy. When that's the case, we want to get at least some clues as to why they are sabotaging themselves. Things like the weather, an accident, or a coincidence can also serve as an antagonist. In the case of coincidences, remember that it's fine to use one to get your character into trouble, but not out of trouble (that will feel like you're cheating).
  
  
• A variety of emotions for the protagonist to experience. As the story progresses, it will be emotions that keep us tied to the character. We will feel their shifting responses as they move forward or experience setbacks. If the protagonist stays in any one emotional state for too long we will get bored. 

I've linked these points to the protagonist, but in more sophisticated stories they apply to the antagonist as well. It's easy to boo a villain, but if the antagonist also has needs and goals with which we identify, the story will be richer. It may raise some conflicting emotions in us as we follow the story. For instance, let's say the person opposing a young woman's relationship with a poor young man is her mother, who truly believes she's doing the right thing, maybe because she suffered from poverty when she was young. We still feel the mother is doing the wrong thing, but we understand that her actions come from love for her daughter. It involves our intellect as well as our emotions and thereby enriches the story.

START WITH WHAT YOU WANT THE AUDIENCE TO FEEL

Knowing what emotions you want to evoke before you start writing can help you construct a good story and design the characters.

It can be helpful to have a map of the emotions you want your protagonist to go through on their journey. When you write the script or the novel you can check to make sure that each major scene or chapter is evoking the desired emotion. Even in a horror film, for instance, you need some variety because nobody can be scared 100% of the time, You need some moments when your protagonist (falsely) believes that now they are safe, before the monster or the ghost reappears. This need for variety is true for every genre.

You also can decide what you want the audience to feel as they leave the cinema or theater or read the last page of your novel. If, for example, you want the reader or audience to feel repulsion at the destructive power of greed you can choose to have the character realize it before it's too late, or you can have them remain blind to it and suffer the terrible consequences. 

OVER TO YOU

What is the central emotion you want your audience to feel? Try using that starting point, and let me know whether it helps you develop involving plots and characters.

 

You've got to tell the world how to treat you

The other day I ran across this quote from James Baldwin:

"You've got to tell the world how to treat you. If the world tells you how you are going to be treated, you are in trouble."

It reminded me of an email I received recently from an aspiring writer who was doubting herself because she hadn't sold anything yet. "Am I even a writer?" she asked. 

She was letting the world--or one part of the world--define her.

I told her, "You write, therefore you are a writer. If tomorrow a publisher accepts your novel, are you a different person? If a publisher never accepts your novel, are you a different person?"

Yes, of course, most of us want our work to reach and affect others.

We can decide whether to submit our work to publishers or producers, and we can decide not to be discouraged (for long) when it takes time to find somebody who wants to buy what we've written.

We have the option of publishing it ourselves or, admittedly with greater difficulty, making a film ourselves.

But, most of all, it's our decision whether or not we are writers, not anybody else's. When we are confident and proceed with boldness, the world tends to pay attention--sooner or later. 

Having doubts is natural--probably like you, I have days when I lose heart. On those days it's good to remember James Baldwin's words and get back to our desks and do what we were born to do.

How to get more conflict into your story

"The cat sat on the mat is not a story. The cat sat on the Dog's mat is a story." - John LeCarre

Most stories have a central conflict. They have the cat and the dog fighting over the mat. But especially in a longer format like a novel or screenplay, sticking to one strand of conflict isn't enough. Halfway through, your readers lose interest because the conflict seems predictable or repetitive.

In that case, you need to zoom out and see what else could be happening.

In the case of our dog and cat, how does their owner respond to the conflict over the mat?

Does she buy an additional mat--over which the dog and cat fight as well?

Does she take away the original mat--so now the dog and cat fight over something else? 

OK, that metaphor goes only so far, and I may already have exceeded that distance, but you get the idea: look at the conflict in expanding circles of impact.

Who besides your protagonist and antagonist is affected?

How do they respond?

What knock-on effects does the conflict have?

Who else could get involved?

If one side tries to de-escalate, how could the other side take advantage?

What's the least likely development? How can you make it plausible that such a surprising thing could happen?

If you apply questions like these to your central conflict, you'll have plenty of material to keep your reader or viewer interested.

All About Fake Business Names for Your Screenplay or Novel

If you ever need a made-up business name for your screenplay or novel (e.g., the company for whom your protagonist works), try using the Oberlo Business Name Generator (it's free). All you have to do is type in one word you want included in the business name. For instance, let's say that I want my protagonist to run a barbershop. Here are some of the names the generator came up with:

Galactic Barbershop

Paramount Barbershop

BlueRibbon Barbershop

Deuce Barbershop

Mainline Barbershop

Barbershop Island

Luxury Barbershop

GoodLife Barbershop

Freestyle Barbershop

Perfection Barbershop

Brilliant Barbershop

Progressive Barbershop

LET THE NAME MATCH THE SETTING OR TONE OF YOUR STORY

Once you have a good selection, narrow the choice by considering which ones best match the setting or tone of the story. A sci-fi story might feature a "Galactic Barbershop," while a noir-type story would be better served by "Deuce Barbershop" and a comedy might find material in the difference between the aspiration suggested by "Perfection Barbershop" and the lack of that perfection in actuality.

CAN YOU USE AN ACTUAL BUSINESS NAME?

When you find one you like (examples below), Google it to check whether it actually exists.

It's OK to use a business name that is common--for instance, I'm sure there are plenty of "Curl Up and Dye" salons. But avoid that if you have set your story in a real location and that business name is in use in that location.

Be especially careful if your fictional business is dishonest or disreputable!

 

Your first ten pages of your screenplay or novel -- how things have changed

It used to be acceptable to start your screenplay or novel with an extended introduction to the normal life of your protagonist before getting the actual story started.

In the 19th Century, a lot of books started with the entire lineage of the protagonist or a detailed description of the weather and/or the building. Plays began with a couple of the servants chatting at length about the history of the family and recent events.

In 1979, Syd Field wrote the influential book, Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting, in which he said the first act should establish the normal life of your protagonist. That meant the inciting incident could occur around page 30.

In the 90's, most screenwriting teachers and books suggested that the "normal" period should take up no more than 20 pages. 

More recently, that was shortened to 15.

Not any more.

It may be a reflection of our ever-shortening attention spans or the ever-increasing competition for it, but these days the audience doesn't want to wait for the story to start. That means you have to immerse your protagonist--and the audience--in the story immediately. 

"But wait!" I hear somebody saying, "if I'm going to plunge my protagonist into a new set of circumstances, how will the audience know that it's new?"

You'll have to reveal that as you go along.

It's not actually a new concept at all. Shakespeare knew how to do this.

He could have started Hamlet by showing Prince Hamlet's ordinary life, his relationship to his mother and stepfather, his attraction to Ophelia, and then, one page 20 or 30, have him see the ghost of his father who tells him that he was killed by his own brother, who is now married to his widow. That's the inciting incident, the thing that sets the story in motion.

Instead, the first thing that happens to Prince Hamlet is hearing this from the ghost.  It's true the ghost first appears to some guards and Horatio, who then take Hamlet to see him; this may have been to give the groundlings at the Globe theater time to settle down.

Shakespeare immerses Hamlet (and us) in the story immediately and then lets us discover along the way what Hamlet is like and what obstacles this creates for his search for the truth and revenge.

Sometimes, writing some pages about what happens before the story kicks in helps you to get into the flow.  That's fine for the first draft. When you're ready to write the second draft, consider axing those pages, and figure out how to layer in the bits that are really important for the audience to know, as the story goes along.

Secrets sell books and screenplays

I noticed a pattern today in the "free reads" books featured by Amazon Prime this month. Here are the log lines of a few of them:

"A novel of secrets, memory, family, and forgiveness..."

"A chilling story of a woman with a forgotten past and a town with dark secrets."

"A double homicide and a missing woman lead a detective to unearth disturbing secrets in this gripping thriller..."

"A woman unlocks the mystery of her father's wartime past in a moving novel about secrets, sacrifice, and the power of love..."

THE SELLING POWER OF (SUPPOSED) SECRETS

The theme of secrets shows up a lot in messages from people trying to sell us stuff, too.

They' offer us the secrets of writing a great novel, or having hair that shines, or getting a promotion.

Some of them add a conspiratorial dimension by adding that these are the secrets some "they" don't want you to know.

It seems corny but it must work or else copywriters wouldn't keep using it. We keep falling for it despite repeated disappointments. I've yet to find a book or course that has revealed actual secrets that the Illuminati or anyone else is actively trying to keep me from finding out. 

DON'T KEEP YOUR SECRET A SECRET

In fiction, a big secret in the story suggests that something unexpected will be revealed. We do love to be surprised and in that sense, a plot twist is a kind of secret from the reader or viewer.

Beyond that, being able to incorporate the notion of a secret in your logline may help your project sell.

Obviously it has to fit the story you are telling, but if it is a feature or you can make it one without affecting the integrity of the story, be sure to point it out when you're writing your logline and your query letters.

Useful tips for rewriting your screenplay or novel

One of the most common questions I get is "Do you have any tips for rewriting?" That's because when we've written a screenplay or novel it's really hard to be objective about it.

I've written about this before, but I thought I'd add a few tips offered by the late copywriting great, Ted Nicholas.

He was referring to writing copy, but I've added notes for how these tips can be just as helpful with fiction:

• Outline what you want to say before writing a word. [I don't necessarily believe you have to know the entire story, but I think it's really helpful to know where you're headed with it.]
   
• Write your first draft as quickly as possible without worrying about being perfect.
  
  
• Start strong.  Finish strong.  Rewrite your first sentence and last paragraph.  They are crucially important. [For scripts and novels, I'd change this to your first scene and your last scene.]
  
  
• Vary the paragraph length.  Similar length paragraphs and sentences can bore the reader. Sprinkle in a few one-word paragraphs. [For fiction writers, I advise checking that your dialogue includes the kinds of variations in length and tone that make it realistic. Also, see whether you have used subtext effectively--after all, what a character doesn't say often is as revealing as what they do say.]
  
  
• Let your work breathe between rewrites.

Writing: it's a job!

Screenwriter Michael McDowell said this to his potential screenwriting partner:

"If you’re going to work with me, look at it like we’re working in a bank.

We get in at nine, we have a cup of coffee, we say good morning, then we go to work.

And we write until lunch.

We go have our lunch.

We come back. We write again until three o’clock in the afternoon.

We fold up the writing. We return whatever phone calls and whatever business of writing we have to do.

And we do this five, six days a week.

And it’s a job.

It’s not you sitting with a metaphorical beret in a metaphorical loft waiting for inspiration to strike.

It’s a job.'”

I have to admit I have never worked that way. Part of my motivation in becoming a writer was to get away from the 9 to 5 routine. I've always felt more creative in the evenings, so frequently I write until the early hours of the morning and then hit the sack and sleep late.

However, the part of it that is true for all professionals is that you have to have discipline. You have to put in the time, consistently.

Even if you sleep until noon, you have to devote a certain number of hours to writing and to the business aspect of writing. 

FOR PART-TIME WRITERS

Even if you're writing as a sideline, if you want to be productive, setting aside a specific time to write and to do the important writing-related tasks (e.g., finding an agent, learning more about the craft, etc.) is the key to moving forward.

Treat it as a part-time job, even if you're not getting paid at this point. 

GO BIG OR GO SMALL, BUT GO

Which works better for you: finding 30 minutes a day several days a week to write, maybe getting up early or staying up late, or working during your lunch hour; or setting aside a big chunk of time on the weekend?

Use trial and error to discover the way you find easiest to be consistent.

NO BLOCKS ALLOWED

In a regular job you're not allowed to say, "You know, I'm just not feeling it today, so I'm going home. I'll be back in the office when I feel inspired again."

It should be the same with writing.

If you are blocked, you have lots of options. They include:

• working on something else for a bit, then returning to the project
  
  
• trying to work in a different environment (the park, a cafe, etc.)
  
  
• devoting the time for brainstorming sessions on how to move forward
  
  
• pretending your best writing friend has this problem--what would you advise them to do? (Then do it.)
  
  
• if it's a story problem, getting help from a writing group or another writer you respect
  
  
• if it's a problem in the middle of your script or novel, looking for the source of the problem in the earlier sections

IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE GOOD--YET

There's at least one point in every project when I convince myself that it's no good and I should just stop and move on to something else. Fortunately, most of the time that's not true, it's just the normal "dip" that happens in the middle. 

The solution is to keep going. Even if it really isn't good you can make it better in the next draft and the one after that.

The work comes first, the payoff comes later--if you're lucky and, even more important, if you're dedicated.

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 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). 

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.

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.