Showing posts with label screenwriting techniques. Show all posts
Showing posts with label screenwriting techniques. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Scene Writing Series, Part IX - Action

By Jax Hunter


Greetings, Campers, this month, we look at writing ACTION.  Hold up there, Hoss! I know some of you are thinking, “I don’t write big action scenes.” The truth is that you probably do, but by ACTION here, I am not talking about the blockbuster action scenes; I’m talking about writing action. 

In The Tools of Screenwriting, authors David Howard and Edward Mabley contrast ACTION and ACTIVITY.

“Action and activity are not interchangeable. . . An activity is anything that a character might be doing in a scene, from knitting to filleting a fish to typing to memorizing song lyrics out loud; this is often called ‘business.’ On the other hand, an action is an activity with a purpose behind it, an activity that furthers a character’s pursuit of an objective."

They go on to say that purposeful activity that expresses emotion (action) must be laid out before a scene is written. 

Novelists too, can make use of this technique in several ways. We can simply jot down the actions on cards for each scene. However, here, I want to point to another technique you may want to try.

When you sit down to write your next scene, write it as a screenplay, but do not write any dialogue. Just list the movement of the actors and brief thoughts and reactions. This will give you a framework upon which you will later add the dialogue and details. If you try it this way, you’ll be focused throughout the process on the action.

By the way, in movies, action is filled with visual elements, things the audience can see. How much more powerful is it for your reader to SEE your hero grip the back of a chair with iron fists, grating his teeth, maybe even throwing the chair through a window, than if we simply hear him speak of his rage. Of course, we need to engage all the senses, but remember that what we see has a greater influence on us than what we hear or smell or feel. 

So, here’s how it can be done (remember, I’m with you on this journey and am NOT the expert here.)

In this scene (from A Good Place to Land), our Heroine, Lily, is working the radios at Search and Rescue Headquarters when she learns that the Hero’s helicopter has gone down.

The screenplay/outline of this scene would look like this:

Lily senses that something is wrong. The team chatter isn’t normal.
She sorts through the recent happenings to pinpoint what’s wrong.
Finally, she radios Daniel to find out.
He stalls her, then asks her to try to reach the helicopter.
That’s when she knows.
She does her job, keeping her reaction to the facts muted.

It’s nearly impossible to list actions devoid of the emotions that both caused the action and then came as a result of the action. So those are listed as well, with no real detail and certainly no backstory. That will all come as you take this outline and write the scene. That is when you’ll put in all the details we’ve talked about. And, of course, you’ll add the actual dialogue. Having this tool ahead of time, though, will help you stay on target for the scene. 

Here’s what the actual scene looked like:

            Tucked back in the radio room at the SAR building, Lily Atherton could tell something was wrong.  She’d been running the SAR communications for long enough that she knew most of the voices by heart.  With Daniel, she could pick up on the subtleties of his moods.
            Everything was okay just a few minutes ago.  The Colonel had dropped off two PJ’s - Nic D’Onofrio and, she thought, Matt Wiley - along with a Stokes litter.  One of her guys had reported the chopper away after the drop.
            Good.
            Then there was chatter, they were talking to each other, not to her.
            Something was wrong but they weren’t saying what.
            “901, Search Base, status,” her way of finding out.
             “Yeah, Search Base, stand by one,” Daniel responded, his voice tight with tension.
            Seconds, maybe even minutes ticked by. 
            “Search Base, 901.”
            “Go, 901,” Lily tried to keep her voice smooth, calm.  It was an exercised skill and, over the last year and a half, she’d had more than a few opportunities to practice.
            “Base, please see if you can reach Zero Eight on our frequencies.”
            Her stomach clenched.  Reach the bird?  That didn’t sound good.
             “Air Force Rescue Zero Eight, this is Search Base on MRA channel one.”
            She repeated the plea twice on each of three Mountain Rescue Association frequencies.  She even tried on National Law frequency.
            “901, Search Base, negative contact with Zero Eight.  Do I need to contact the RCC?”
            The Rescue Coordination Center was the military equivalent of her office there.  A sharp dread settled in her heart as she waited for Daniel’s answer.
            Rick McIntyre was flying that chopper.

Remember that actions devoid of emotion are simply activity. We want to limit activity, if possible. Of course, we also want to avoid talking heads. There will be times when you must use activity within a scene to do so. However, if you can load that activity with emotion, your writing will be much better. 

Next month we’ll go into greater depth on dialogue. 

In the meantime, try this technique and feel free to let me know how it worked. 

Until next month, when we take a look at set dressing, BIC-HOK (Butt in Chair - Hands on Keyboard).

Jax (www.jaxmhunter@gmail.com)
 
(This series first ran in the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers newsletter in 2005.)



About the Author: Jax Hunter is a published romance writer and freelance copywriter. She wears many hats including EMT, CPR instructor, and Grammy. She is currently working on a contemporary romance series set in ranching country Colorado and a historical romance set in 1775 Massachusetts. She lives in Colorado Springs, belongs to PPW, RMFW and is a member of the Professional Writer's Alliance.


Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Story Tips #11 - Plotting Variations

By Jax Hunter



Welcome to the next installment of Story Tips From the Big Screen. This monthly column (to be posted the second Monday of each month) explores screen writing techniques that will help fiction writers tell a better story. 

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It’s been a year! How could that be? Sheesh.

Over the last twelve months, we’ve looked at the most common story structure: Three Act Structure. We’ve looked at outlining and at the Hero’s Journey Structure. In this, I’d like to give you an overview of a few plotting variations. As you’ll see, with some, there isn’t always a clear-cut line keeping these structures within their boundaries. I present them in no particular order. Remember, we’re stealing from screenwriters, so many of the examples will be films or television shows. 

Multiple Plot Stories: These are the ensemble pieces with many characters. Each character or group of characters has its own story, complete with inciting incident, turning points one and two, a beginning, middle, and end. Usually, these stories contain an overall story theme and each sub-plot is linked either by place or by time frame. 

Examples of this plot variation: many one-hour TV dramas, such as CSI, West Wing, Third Watch, and movies, such as Gossford Park and American Beauty

Act Mix-up: This is a technique in which the third act is presented first, followed by how the characters got there. The TV show Columbo was known for showing the arrest first, followed by backstory, including the reasons for the crime, the crime itself, and how Columbo put all the pieces together.

Same Story, Mulitiple POV’s: This style presents a story multiple times through the eyes of different characters. In the TV show Boomtown (which I liked - certainly the kiss of death when I like it) the crime is committed, then replayed through each character’s point of view. The movies Rashomon, Z, and Lawless Heart are examples of this style. For more information on this structure, check out Teach Yourself Film Studies, by Warren Buckland.

Two Act Structure: This is the typical structure for half-hour sitcoms. The plot is equally divided, half and half, with the cliffhanger moment at the end of Act I and a moment of truth halfway through Act II, followed by resolution. This is a simple structure that likely can’t carry novel length fiction. However, it might be perfect for the short story.

Four or Five Act Structure: Longer Films like Gone with the Wind, Braveheart, Casino, and Titanic follow this structure. The turning points in this structure are the same as with three act structure, with turning point one at the quarter mark and turning point two at the three quarter mark.

Nine Act Structure: This structure can simply be a division of three acts into nine. However, that isn’t necessarily so. It features a significant change of goal in the middle. For example, in ET the first goal was to keep ET here and the second to get ET home. In Mrs. Doubtfire, the first goal was to become Mrs. Doubtfire in order to get the kids back and the second to become the husband and father the kids’ mother wanted. If you’re interested in learning more about this structure, take a look at this website: www.dsiegel.com/Film/Filmhome.

Portmanteau structure: These stories contain separate stories running back to back. They are linked by the same characters, the same location, the same theme, the same event, etc. This structure is often found in themed anthologies. 

As you can see, there are many flavors of plot. Genre fiction tends toward those which are less “different.” Literary fiction is often where you find the less classic structures. If you’d like to read more on these variations, I point you to Teach Yourself Screenwriting, by Raymond Frensham.

Now that we’ve studied overall story structure, the plan for the next part of the series is to study the structure of the scene, primarily, but not exclusively, from a screenwriting perspective.  

Until next month, BICHOK (Butt in Chair, Hands on Keyboard)


(This series first ran in the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers newsletter in 2004.)


About the Author: Jax Hunter is a published romance writer and freelance copywriter. She wears many hats including EMT, CPR instructor, and Grammy. She is currently working on a contemporary romance series set in ranching country Colorado and a historical romance set in 1775 Massachusetts. She lives in Colorado Springs, belongs to PPW, RMFW and is a member of the Professional Writer's Alliance.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Story Tips #2 - Three Act Structure

By Jax Hunter

Welcome to the second installment of Story Tips From the Big Screen.  This monthly column (to be posted the second Monday of each month) explores screen writing techniques that will help fiction writers tell a better story. 

***   ***   ***   ***

Did I wear you all out last month?  I hope not.  This month, I promise to be a bit more reasonable. 

Screenwriters learn early on that most screenplays are based on three act structure, a paradigm that goes back to Aristotle’s Poetics, written in 350 B.C.

The simplest restatement of three act structure is: Beginning, Middle and End.

There’s a saying found in many screenwriting sources that is variously credited to many different people.  “In Act I, you get your hero up a tree.  In Act II, you throw rocks at him.  In Act III, you get him out of the tree.”  We’ll look in greater detail at these three steps.  The rule of thumb in screenwriting, though, is that Act I is 25% of your play, Act II is 50%, and Act III is 25%.

Up a Tree:  
Act I gets your reader involved with your story, with your characters.  You use this section to introduce your characters, the setting, the goal and the obstacle.  Halfway through Act I, your protagonist will face or take on a problem.  Act I ends with the first plot point.

Plot points are defined by Syd Field (Screenwriting Workbook) as “an incident, episode, or event that ‘hooks’ into the action and spins it around into another direction.  It can be anything: a shot, a speech, a scene, a sequence, an action, anything that moves the story forward.”  It’s the first plot twist, the first real complication.   In the movie Braveheart, it’s the moment that Murron, our hero’s wife, is murdered.  Now the obstacle/problem becomes personal -  it is invested with real emotion.

Throw Rocks:
Act II heightens the emotional commitment to the story, both for the characters and for the reader.  In Act II,  you complicate everything.  This section has a pattern of rising action, each complication getting more threatening to the protagonist.  Along the way, our hero has more and more to lose.

Act II ends with the hero apparently defeated.  This is the black moment.  All is lost.

C’mon down, hero: 
In Act III we start from the darkest point - where all is lost and the hero makes a last ditch effort to get to his goal.  This is the final push to the climax.  The showdown.  Finally, the resolution brings a satisfactory end to the reader, even if it doesn’t bring the same to our hero.  In romances, the hero and heroine end up together.  In mystery and suspense, the good guy figures out who the bad guy is and, ultimately, defeats him.

Stuart Voytilla, in his book Myth and the Movies (closely related to Vogler’s Writer’s Journey) suggests that Acts I and III occur in the hero’s Ordinary World while Act II takes place in the Special World.
Dramatica Software’s manual describes the acts as journeys.  Act I takes the hero from the starting point, City A, to City B; Act II from City B to City C; Act III from City C to the destination, City D.


These are the basics of three act structure.  If I’m aiming toward a 300 page book, then I know that the first 75 pages will be Act I, pages 76 - 225 for Act II, and another 75 for the crisis and resolution.  Once I have these structural definitions, it’s easier to see how many scenes I’ll need along the way. 

Of course, this is just a model.  It’s a tool to use, not a recipe that you have to follow exactly.  I’ll leave you with one more restatement from Syd Field.  He speaks of the three acts as: Setup, Confrontation and Resolution.

Next month we’ll look at the two minute movie.  Until then, BICHOK (Butt in Chair, Hands on Keyboard.)

Cheers, Jax   (www.jaxmhunter@gmail.com)


(This series first ran in the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers newsletter in 2004.)


About the Author: Jax Hunter is a published romance writer and freelance copywriter. She wears many hats including EMT, CPR instructor, and Grammy. She is currently working on a contemporary romance series set in ranching country Colorado and a historical romance set in 1775 Massachusetts. She lives in Colorado Springs, belongs to PPW, RMFW and is a member of the Professional Writer's Alliance.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Novels with a Beat

By Deb McLeod

Our October Writer’s Book Club featured Rebecca Green Gasper who introduced us to Blake Snyder’s Beat Sheets for screenwriting. We analyzed The Hunger Games and used the 15-point story arc to better see the shape of the story.

I’ve used the three-act structure as well as the journey as a plotting tool with my clients. But this was the first time I’d seen this 15-point story arc. The Hunger Games fit the beat sheet perfectly. We could easily identify the beats of the story and they conformed to the story arc in the Beat Sheet.

The theme was stated early in the novel. The main character, Katniss, stays within the rules. She is not a rebel. She’s hungry and people rely on her. She does what she has to do to survive. By the end of the book Katniss has become the face of the rebellion against a way of life that she can’t live under any longer. It’s a complete reversal. Her character follows the Beat Sheet arc.

After the book club I put my novel to the test. I downloaded a copy of the Beat Sheet and started filling it out. I had run into a wall of sorts just at the end of Act 2 and had been immersed in working my way out for about two weeks. When my energy for the work begins to wane that’s a signal to me that I took a wrong turn somewhere earlier in the plot. This was the perfect time for me to try the tool out.

My book is complicated. It’s the first of an eight-book thriller series. There are paranormal elements to it. There’s a love story and a conspiracy. There are plenty of characters, and there’s a B, C and a D story braided between the highs and lows of the A story.

Plotting has been a challenge.

First, I tried to slap the whole plot onto the Beat Sheet, but then I realized that I needed to pull apart the storylines and subplots and do a Beat Sheet for each one. Magical brilliance!!!

I started with the love story; the easiest to pull out and look at. The Beat Sheet fit all the way down to my stalling point. I had veered off the path right around the end of Act 2; I had forgotten my character’s theme.
At twenty-four, Macy Delacort has won at the game of life. She has everything a girl could want, but, in order to get it, she gave up an important part of her essence. Through the story she will begin to see exactly what her choices have cost her. By the end of the book she will learn to be true to herself and find her true love.

As I was writing scenes and moving in and out of all the other subplots, I forgot Macy’s theme and what her place was in the story. But now I had a plan. She’d been sidetracked from her mission. The challenge had faded and there was nothing to help her change by the end of the book.

Now I can see what I need to do. I still have scenes to think up and in plotting the other subplots as well as the main story, I might be able to find which scenes will give Macy an opportunity to lose everything but to get herself by the end of the story.

I have been so taken with this method that I hosted a Beat Party for some people who are about to do NaNoWriMo. We’d all like to have our road maps in place before we start so I met with a few people to teach them the Beat Sheet. We have plans to get together two or three more times and help each other beat out our plots before NaNo starts.

I never used to be a plotter. But I am now. It’s a wonderful feeling to know where you’re going and still leave room for surprises. I found the Beat Sheet to be a perfect tool for my book and just what I needed. Try it out. See if it works for you too. 

About the Writer:  Deb McLeod, is a writer, creative writing coach, co-founder and executive director of The Writing School. She has both an MFA and a BA in creative writing. She has been teaching and coaching for over ten years. Deb has published short fiction in anthologies and journals. She has written articles and creative nonfiction. Deb has been a professional blogger, tech writer, graphic artist and Internet marketing specialist.

Monday, October 8, 2012

Story Tips #1 - A Monthly Series

By Jax Hunter

Welcome to my “new” column for the PPW Blog, Story Tips from the Big Screen. In this monthly column (to be posted the second Monday of each month), I will be exploring screen writing techniques that will help fiction writers tell a better story. Sometimes we get tunnel vision, focusing on craft to the exclusion of learning what makes a good story.

Likely, there will be very little here that will be earth shattering or completely new. But sometimes, all we need is to look at a topic from a different perspective. So that’s what I hope to do, look at some of the things that make a good story.

Cheers, Jax 


***   ***   ***   ***

Loglines and Story Concepts: Familiar terms? They are both movie industry terms that, occasionally, make their way into fiction writing books. So, what are they?

My definition: super short synopses.

The words are very often used interchangeably, making it difficult to pin down if there is a difference between them. Perhaps the real distinction lies in their purposes rather than in their “looks.”

Loglines are used primarily to sell ideas, to get your screenplay - or novel - read. They are the quick, roll off your tongue answer to “What’s your story about.” They’re the one-liner used in a query letter or face-to-face meeting to hook the agent or editor into asking to see more. And if the synopsis is hard to write, then the twenty-five word logline is even trickier.

The story concept is very similar in look and feel but is used at the beginning of the process. It’s the statement that keeps you focused as you write. For the purposes of this article, we’ll simply use the term story concept and consider how we use them and how we write them. Quick digression here. To date, I have been a seat-of-the-pants writer. When I’ve begun a novel, I’ve had a fairly clear idea of the characters, a what-if premise and a happily-ever-after ending. With those, I’ve merrily begun a project and typed along just fine for between fifty and a hundred pages. At that point I completely lose my mind. I have no idea where I’ve come from or where I’m going. I have no purpose, no real theme, no nothin’. Then it takes sheer  determination to continue, and that only after taking a week off to have a breakdown.

One of my goals this year is to become an outliner. Don’t know if it can be done, but I’m learning a lot and giving it a try even as I write this. I’m using some of what I’ve learned from the screenwriting world to outline my next project right now. I’ll tell you how that goes.

My point, though, is this: I’m going to use the story concept (which I’ll have for you by the end of this article) to sharpen everything that comes after.

So how does one go about writing one of these catchy short-shorts? If you start looking, you’ll find many approaches, all fairly similar. I’ll share a couple with you, along with a few examples.

The first and simplest:

1. Character: who is the story about?
2. Goal: what does he want?
3. Conflict: What stands in his way?

The passengers on a speeding bus will die if the bus falls below 50 mph. (Speed)

A tornado blows Dorothy to Oz where she fights a witch and seeks a wizard to find her way home. (Do I need to tell you?)

In order to win the starting goalie position, A.J. Charbonneau must overcome both his rival and his heart. (From Black Ice - my first novel)

This method is a great jumping off place. But, somehow, we seem to miss the emotion the why-should-we-care part of the story.

Another method uses the dramatic question in your story.

Will a young man find justice against the uncle who killed his father and married his mother? (Hamlet)

Can two teenagers bring their warring families together and find a happy ending? (Romeo and Juliet)

Will a novice sports reporter, who knows nothing about hockey, be successful in her new job and find her heart’s desire? (Thin Ice - my second novel.)

This method is good too. It might get us a little closer to the emotion of the story. But, wow, is it limiting.
Another process gives us very little of the story, but the resulting loglines are very easy to remember. Ray Frensham in Teach Yourself Screenwriting suggests two methods:

1. The rule of threes
2. Contrasts

Here are some of his examples:

She brought a small town to its feet, and a large corporation to its knees. (Erin Brockovich)

3 Casinos, 11 Guys, 150 million bucks. Ready to win big? (Ocean’s 11)

He was the perfect weapon - until he became a target. (The Bourne Identity)

Five criminals. One line-up. No coincidence. (Usual Suspects)

AND MINE: An Airman without a mission; a woman without a memory (A Soft Place to Fall- my third novel)

Very short and to the point. But again, little is actually said about the story, about the characters. And what are stories without characters, without emotion? These are likely best used in the sales pitch.

Here’s another recipe:

Situation, Complications, Action, Crisis, Transformation.

This recipe gives you much longer story concepts but allows the emotion of the story to come out as well.

My example using this recipe: Literary attorney, Lacey McKenna, has just left the corporate world to start her own business. When handsome author Kyle Chamberlain hires her to accompany him to California to meet with a movie producer, she makes the jump out of her comfort zone to make the money. Little does she know that Kyle is only out to take revenge for the past. The trip is magical and Lacey lives and loves like  she’s never done before. When she learns the truth, she’s left with both a broken heart and a business teetering on the edge of disaster. (Magic, unpublished)

The best method I’ve found so far was “invented” by Colorado author Jameson Cole, who very graciously allowed me to use it here. With this method, we concentrate on the character and the conflict.

A story concept has three elements of character descriptions:

PHYSICAL - aging, boozy
SOCIOLOGICAL - Secret Service agent, Boston lawyer
PSYCHOLOGICAL - the Secret Service agent feels guilty, the Boston lawyer wants to vindicate himself.
PAST - the relevant backstory.
PRESENT - a current dilemma usually requiring a goal-oriented decision.
FUTURE - what happens if failure occurs.

In The Line Of Fire:
PHYSICAL - An aging
SOCIOLOGICAL - Secret Service agent,
PSYCHOLOGICAL - who feels guilty
PAST - for failing to save President Kennedy from being murdered
PRESENT - duels a deadly assassin. The outcome of their battle
FUTURE - will decide whether the current president lives or dies and whether the agent's troubled past will give way to peace.

The Verdict:
PHYSICAL - A boozy
SOCIOLOGICAL - Boston lawyer
PRESENT - receives an easy malpractice case,
PSYCHOLOGICAL - but because it is his last chance to vindicate himself
PAST - against the establishment that betrayed him,
FUTURE - decides to battle their premier attorney.

A Killing In Quail County by Jameson Cole:
PHYSICAL - A fifteen-year old boy
SOCIOLOGICAL - in small town Oklahoma in the 50's
PSYCHOLOGICAL - growing up lonely
PAST - because of his parent's accidental death and his older brother's alienation
PRESENT - learns that a vengeful old bootlegger is trying to kill his older brother
FUTURE - and decides to find the old man's still so he'll be sent to prison.

Here are the resulting story concepts:

In The Line Of Fire - An aging Secret Service agent, who feels guilty for failing to save President Kennedy from being murdered, duels a deadly assassin. The outcome of their battle will decide whether the current president lives or dies and whether the agent's troubled PAST will give way to peace.

The Verdict - A boozy Boston lawyer receives an easy malpractice case, but because it is his last chance to vindicate himself against the establishment that betrayed him, decides to battle their premier attorney.

And mine: A hotshot hockey player who violently distrusts the press after he and his friends were preyed upon painfully, is tasked with babysitting the visiting female sportswriter. When betrayal overcomes them both, they must learn how and when to say I’m sorry. (Thin Ice - my second novel)

Still two sentences - 41 words. It could use some whittling down.

As a romance writer, I’m wondering if I should have one of these each for my hero and heroine. Okay, so here goes. My hero’s story concept for the next novel using Jameson’s method.

A successful computer geek, tormented by the Holy Grail girl who turned him down in school, puts together an elaborate deception in order to get her back, but ends up dealing with emotions he hadn’t counted on. (Magic)

The upshot here, friends, is that short shorts aren’t easy to write (at least for me), but there are guidelines. I hope you find one of them that jumps off the page and helps you along. In the meantime, start reading the TV guide blurbs and here is a website that has some interesting (some good, some not so good) story concept statements.


Another suggestion. Go to www.imdb.com and take a look at loglines and story summaries - some written by the pros and some written by the consumers.

Until next month. BICHOK (butt in chair, hands on keyboard)

(This series first ran in the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers newsletter in 2004.)


About the Author: Jax Hunter is a published romance writer and freelance copywriter. She wears many hats including EMT, CPR instructor, and Grammy. She is currently working on a contemporary romance series set in ranching country Colorado and a historical romance set in 1775 Massachusetts. She lives in Colorado Springs, belongs to PPW, RMFW and is a member of the Professional Writer's Alliance.