 |
CS
Daily Archive > Son
of a Pitch > 05/20/04
Breaking
the Story Without Breaking the Story
By David Michael
Wharton
Outlines,
beat sheets, treatments… there are plenty of
different ways to break down the story before you
start writing. Which one is right for you, and for
your project?
There's
still some debate about just how much you need to
know about your story before you charge heedless into
the breach. Some say you need to know only certain
road signs along the path: beginning, end, and a few
key developments along the way. Others insist on a
more thorough game plan, with full outlines or treatments
synopsizing the action from start to finish. Which
is it? Well, from the writers I've talked to, there
really isn't any correct answer. In fact, the most
common response I've received is, "Oh, I've tried
everything at one point or another."
First, a little vocabulary lesson, since this is a
beginner's column, and not everybody is as schooled
on the lingo as others. A beat
sheet is a short breakdown of the important moments
in a script -- the beats. Moving up from a beat sheet,
we have an outline.
This is a more detailed animal, breaking down every
scene of the script, point by point. Finally, we have
the treatment, which
is a detailed breakdown of the story in prose form,
sort of a cross between a short story and a synopsis.
Treatments can be anywhere from several pages to upwards
of forty. (There's also the scriptment, which is what
James Cameron called his thick treatment for Spider-Man.)
Then there's the old standby, 3 x 5 cards, with each
card denoting a scene. The cards allow you to see
the overall flow of the story (some even color code
them), and notice any potential pacing problems. Any
or all may be used in the prewriting process of plotting
out the story.
In plotting out my screenplay, Imagine That,
I've dabbled with all of them except 3 x 5 cards (though
I may try that at some point), and I've found each
of them useful. It was only after I worked through
both a beat sheet and an outline for Imagine That
that I finally wrote an 11-page treatment. This worked
great for me, because it allowed me to flex my old
reliable prose muscles when it came to fleshing out
the story and characters, but building upon the structural
skeleton that I'd built in the earlier stages.
I think beginning screenwriters need to be more detailed
in their prewriting than experienced ones, and this
seems to be supported by the writers I've interviewed.
In the early stages, as we learn the form, these tools
help keep us on target and give us a sort of situational
awareness, but once you've been doing it for a while,
the process becomes natural, almost subliminal.
Let's hear from Robert Nelson Jacobs (The
Shipping News, Werewolf by Night):
"Some people are obsessive about an outline,
where they have to know every beat of the story. That's
something that has changed for me over the years.
I used to be very meticulous and wanted to answer
every question before I began writing. As I've become
more experienced, I'm learning to trust myself more.
I still have to know beginning, middle, end; I have
to know the major beats of the story; for each character,
I have to know, in the most general sense, what that
character's journey is going to be. I have to know
where they're going to start and where they'll end
up, and in what ways they'll be changed. But I don't
necessarily have to know what's going to happen in
every scene. Of course, you're always sort of checking
against your outline. There are certain things in
your original conception of the story that you want
to remain true to: certain themes or big ideas. You
want to always check against them and ask, 'Is this
the story I want to be telling?' At the same time,
you want to give yourself the freedom to discover
different paths, or different ways of getting to that
goal. And occasionally, you discover that that original
goal isn't right, and that you've come up with something
better."
That
seems to be the key, and one that we sometimes forget.
I know that when I first began learning screenplays,
I sure as hell didn't want to take the time to write
outlines or beat sheets or anything else. By God,
I had a kickass story in my head, and I wanted to
get it on paper! So I charged ahead for 15 pages or
so, started questioning where I was headed, started
habitually rewriting said 15 pages, and finally ended
up snapping holding up a Starbucks during a 40-hour
police standoff.
I may have made up that last part.
Identity's
Michael Cooney still has troubles with this (with
prewriting, not with holding up Starbucks). "It's
so tricky talking about a third act, about what my
character will be doing and how he'll be saving the
day, if I don't know every other step he's taken.
In life, we are the conclusion of everything we've
done before. It's so tricky to say who actually will
be walking through the door in the final scene, if
I don't know how he reacted during the bank heist
scene. Something like Unique (Cooney's current
project, from Dean Motter's graphic
novel), where before I begin writing, the studio
wants to know what I'm going to write -- that seems
like a time travel question to me. Part of my brain
asks, 'Well, how do I know what I'm going to write
before I write it?'"
It's about knowing where you're starting from and
where you're headed, with a few guideposts along the
way. Early in our writing careers, most of us are
going to need more guideposts than those that have
been doing this for years. That's to be expected.
Don't look at these things as obstacles between you
and the script. Look at them as tools to help keep
you on track. I was coming into the game with the
wrong mindset, probably because I was spoiled by writing
short stories. Nobody outlines a friggin' short story,
and if they do, they're probably also the type of
person who would organize their DVD collection, not
alphabetically, but thematically. (And yes,
that is a jibe at the expense of one of my good friends…hello
there, Mr. Adams!) The point being, I wanted to dive
right in and let my muse do the work. But 120 pages
is a lot more daunting than 20, and you really have
to have some idea where you're going.
Keep in mind, it's not as if the outline is inviolate
divine doctrine. Once you start writing, you may feel
that the story needs to veer away from the outline
-- in fact, it's almost certain that this will happen.
Once the story starts popping and takes on a life
of its own, it will want to go where it needs to go,
and that's fine; the outline's just there to remind
you of what you wanted to accomplish when you started,
what story you wanted to tell, so if you divert from
that course, you can make sure it's for a good reason,
and that you're not just wandering blindly into the
desert.
And
on that note, I leave you one last point of view.
In addition to having written Riverworld
for the Sci Fi Channel, Stuart Hazeldine has one of
the most interesting unproduced resumés in
Hollywood (a Blade
Runner sequel spec, which first brought him
notice, and a high-fantasy version of Edgar Allan
Poe's Masque of the
Red Death, written with Alex Proyas). He
told me his own process for breaking down the story:
"I've found a formula that works for me, whether
it's a treatment or a screenplay or what-have-you.
I call it 'Bones, Muscles, and Skin.' The bones of
the script are literally just going through and writing
all the slug lines. That normally takes about two
hours, but you can only do that once you have some
sort of treatment, even if it's illegible and in a
foreign language. You have to know roughly what the
structure is. The slug lines are the bones. What I
call the muscles is going through the slug lines and
writing every possible thing that could be said or
done: action, description, or dialogue. Just writing
in no particular order: you write down bits of dialogue,
you write down anything that could potentially go
into that scene. Once you've done that -- and that's
a big process -- you go through and actually write
the scenes. I find that as I struggle with that middle
phase, I naturally give more order to it. I start
to move scenes around or say, 'That works better with
this.' So when you finally get to the last phase,
skin, which is making everything pretty and writing
it properly, there's a lot less work for you to do."
Bones, muscles, skin. Food for thought, children.
Now, go write (or pre-write, as the case may be).
The big
R word: research, and how it's not primarily about
facts and figures. Or at least, it shouldn't be.
David Michael Wharton is a freelance writer and journalist
from Texas, and is assistant editor of CS Daily. When
not slaving away in the editorial salt mines, he somehow
finds the time to write his column Son
of a Pitch, as well as occasional movie and DVD
reviews. He is, of course, working on a screenplay.
|
 |

From
the Trenches (Monday)
Working screenwriters discuss
in their own words a particular
aspect of screenwriting,
from the mechanics of writing
to the personal and professional
impact that writing has
had on their lives. >
VIEW
ARCHIVE
The
Art of Craft (Tuesday)
Screenwriting experts discuss
how to approach various
aspects of writing and the
writing life. A mini-seminar
each week from the people
who write the books and
teach the classes. >
VIEW
ARCHIVE
Expert
Witness (Wednesday)
A panel of experts assembled
to provide the facts about
the screenwriting business.
Readers will be able have
their questions answered
by an agent, producer, entertainment
attorney, and WGA representativeand
without paying that 10%
commission. > VIEW
ARCHIVE
Son
of a Pitch (Thursday)
A weekly tutorial on how
to write a script. Each
week deals with a different
element of creating a script,
with the ultimate goal to
provide a step-by-step instruction
manual for new writers.
The guide for this is a
writer just diving into
screenwriting himself, who
asks the pros questions
any new screenwriter would
have about this brave new
world. > VIEW
ARCHIVE
Weekend
Read (Friday)
Film, book, web site and technology reviews from a
writers perspective. How can these items help
a writer on his or her journey, or make that journey
more enjoyable? > VIEW
ARCHIVE
DVD
Review of the Day (Every
Weekday)
DVD reviews from a writers
point of view. What aspects
of this script and features
of this DVD illuminate the
writing, development, and
storytelling process? >
VIEW ARCHIVE
|
 |