Screenwriter Secrets of Effective Storytelling!
The Structure: Are We There Yet?

Most of us, when we tell a story, start by loading it up with details. We feel we need to build up to the interesting part by carefully setting the scene. I read plenty of feature articles across the country that do this. Stories that start with an image, as if the writer wants us to concentrate on some microscopic details that will give us a feeling for the environment.

The problem is, when we're listening to that kind of story, we're impatient for it to begin. It's amazing how little background "staging" we need, really, to get involved in a story. We don't realize that, done correctly, our engagement can be immediate. Without all those pesky details.

Take this scene. I guarantee you it's part of a movie, although you'll never see it on screen:

FADE IN:

EXT. DAY - A ONE-ROOM SCHOOLHOUSE

A TEACHER (35, female) stands at the door, waving goodbye to the children. A YOUNG GIRL (14) waves goodbye to the teacher and starts down the sidewalk, followed by a dog.

EXT. DAY - LARGE VICTORIAN MANSION

A wall separates the grand house from the dusty road. A cat sits on one of the wall posts. The girl and dog approach the wall. The cat HISSES, and the dog BARKS. The cat jumps down into the yard, and the dog squeezes through a gap in the wall, chasing the cat.

GIRL
No no! I've told you a thousand times!

The girl runs to the front gate and swings it open. The front door of the mansion opens, and a severe and hawklike woman appears. The girls stops and...

I'll stop there.

I wrote the script portion above. Any idea what movie I'm talking about? Go ahead and read the beginning of the actual script:

FADE IN:
MS -- Dorothy stoops down to Toto -- speaks to him -- then runs down road to b.g. -- Toto following --

DOROTHY
She isn't coming yet, Toto. Did she hurt you? She tried to, didn't she? Come on - we'll go tell Uncle Henry and Auntie Em. Come on, Toto.

While the script is slightly different from the actual movie, the differences don't detract from the actual storytelling. And the names give a whole lot away. But look at the dialogue - it tells us everything we need to know. Sure, we get more information later, info that can help us put the pieces together. But while my version goes on and on, in the actual script, you're into the story in a flash. Plus you get two more characters. And in just a few minutes more, we get even more information about what happened (the technical term is "exposition"), plus we get conflicts, relationships, issues. And all before you've finished reading my version.

Try not to load down your story with excessive, irrelevant detail. See how much you can relate in as few words as possible. Make those words do double, triple, quadruple duty. Our minds are hard-wired to complete things, to close the loops, to look for patterns. Let your readers fill in the cracks themselves. Believe me, we love to do it!

And if you're interested, the next time you're watching a movie, especially a great one, pay attention to the beginning. Most movies nowadays spend very little time "setting the scene." They use a couple of establishing shots - maybe - and then boom, something happens, usually directly related to the plot.

Screenwriter Secrets of Effective Storytelling!
The Structure: Ruin It For Me

There are all kinds of terms for what I'm going to discuss here. Cut To The Chase. Inverted Pyramid Structure. In Media Res.

I like to think of it as Ruin It For Me.

All these terms tell us to begin our stories as late as possible in the plot. Why? Because believe it or not, it's what we prefer in our movie viewing and novel reading (not to mention newspaper reporting and other forms of narrative.)

Warning: Possible Spoilers Ahead!
The storm and brewhaha over the latest Harry Potter book is subsiding, last week's media frenzy over whether or not the outcome of the novel was leaked is over, and the madness has moved on. For awhile there it seemed that the spoilers were going to ruin it for the true and rabid Potter fans. It just shows us how much importance we place in The Ending of stories.

This importance, though, is misplaced. For every "Sixth Sense" twist ending that lights up the zeitgeist, there are a dozens of movies and novels that don't rely on The Big Surprise to make their impact. In fact, when someone says to me "I won't tell you the end and ruin it for you," I say "Go ahead, ruin it for me."

After studying film and writing screenplays, I no longer like being tricked by the narrative. And it's gotten so that I can almost guess the ending of these kinds of plots even during the opening credits. Ten minutes into The Others I thought [SPOILER ALERT!] "Everyone's dead, and the people they think are ghosts are still alive." When I first saw a preview for The Village, I thought [SPOILER ALERT!] "They're living in an enclosed sanctuary in the 21st century."

When we're telling or writing a story ourselves, our tendency is to withhold information up front, because we think that gradually revealing it will hold the audience's interest and build suspense.

Wrong. Especially today, with lightening fast communications and busy work/life schedules. Who has time to listen to a long drawn out story?

Besides, it takes a great deal of skill, knowledge and craft to fashion a narrative that holds your interest as it slowly builds to a devastating finale. Hitchcock did it brilliantly in Vertigo. M. Night knew how to dole out the bits of plot in The Sixth Sense.

Most of us aren't as accomplished. So, the best advice to follow? We've heard it so many times before: tell them what you're going to tell them, then tell them.

After all, Citizen Kane starts at the end, with Kane about to die. He whispers "Rosebud" and the movie investigates his life to find the meaning of that word. It doesn't matter that "Rosebud" turns out to be [SPOILER ALERT!] a sled. The movie's far more interesting than that. Sure, the sled is symbolic. But knowing what Rosebud is doesn't do us any damage when we watch the movie for the third, sixth, thirty-seventh, or ninety-ninth time.

Screenwriter Secrets of Effective Storytelling!
Part II: The People

#2: Introducing the Arch Nemesis

Every story has a villain. Think of the most popular ones from the movies: Darth Vader, Hannibal Lecter, HAL, dinosaurs. They drive the story's main activity, and can set off other conflicts among the heroes. They're also really fun to write, much more so than the boring old protagonist.

That's because the main character is usually a reflection of the writer, while the villains steal all the good lines. "No, Luke. I am your father." "I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti." And the granddaddy (or grandmother) of them all: "I'll get you my pretty and your little dog too!"

In telling your story, or an organization's, a customer's or a constituent's, it might be tough to flesh out the villain, however.

You might not want to name names directly. It might not be a person. It could be a disease, a force of nature, an immoral activity, or a frame of mind. Depression, tsunamis, badly-distributed resources, homophobia. If you were writing a screenplay, you'd give each of these its own personality. In telling your story, you might not have the space or time.

But you need to know exactly who and/or what your villain is. Take the time to dig down, flesh out, even describe for yourself what can vanquish its evil ways. Like a movie that tricks you into thinking you know who the villain is, in the story you're writing, you might think you know who your villain is (politicians are always the knee-jerk, fall back villains in everyone's minds), but you don't want to destroy relationships and burn bridges. And you don't want people getting the wrong idea.

You may end up with a story that doesn't specifically mention your villain, specially if your audience already knows and you're in full agreement. But knowing who or what your villain is gives you a better foundation on which to build your story. And who knows, you may even find yourself writing a screenplay based on the problems he, she or it can cause.

Screenwriter Secrets of Effective Storytelling!
Part II: The People

#1: Knock Down, Drag Out

The next time you watch a movie, pay close attention to the main character. Notice how he is always on the go. How she might be sitting at a desk for just a moment, only to spring up out of his chair and leave the room. How many times have you watched a movie or tv show and asked the characters "why did you go into that room - you knew the killer was in there waiting for you!"

Something I learned in one of the screenwriting seminars I attended over the past few years: characters in movies differ from real life people in one main respect: when given the choice between "throwing a punch" or letting something pass, the character will throw the punch.

Now let's take that real life person you find you need to write about. Chances are very good that his or her life matches our own - distinctly lacking in chances to throw a punch.

That's when you have to dig a little deeper. Expand your idea of what "throwing a punch" is. Our lives, and those of our constituents, abound with actions that can be construed as a bit more dramatic, when put up against an opponent. Getting that second opinion from another doctor. Returning that latte because it's "just not right." Running for the subway train as the doors close. Asking that certain person out to lunch.

Dramatic characters are all about "wants." It's something they share with us - and why we find them so compelling. Often a story is all about a person (or character) wanting something - and going after it. That's where the essence of the story lies. In the character's want.

A teacher wanting his students to learn (or behave) - and the punches he throws to affect this change. That's compelling. A teacher working with well-behaved academic achievers? Not so compelling. That's why the end credits come when the teacher's gotten what he wants. We don't want to watch even ten minutes of non-dramatic classroom learning. That's the reason so many movie sequels fail. They really aren't sequels, they're the original movie character having to go after her want all over again.

Screenwriter Secrets of Effective Storytelling!
Part 1: The Language (continued)

#4: Ying or Yang?
Sometimes the most effective way of figuring out what something is, is to figure out what it isn't. That way, you can hone in on your subject.

However, this could hamper your storytelling.

I've often used the "negative" in describing what I see. The simplest example would be describing something at night. I might begin by saying "the room was devoid of light" or "the streetlights were all out." But I'm never satisfied with that description, because it makes the reader do too much work. And I'd rather have the reader bounce along in the story than stopping to figure things out.

So, I'll recast certain descriptions in a "positive" way. Instead of saying "devoid of light" I'll use "Darkness threatens to eat up the small square of light the moon casts on the floor." (Hey, we're talking dramatic effect here!) The "streetlights are out" segment will become "the only light on the street came from his flashlight."

Casting things in the negative stops the reader and makes him or her imagine first the alternate, which must then be removed. For "a room devoid of light" the reader must first imagine the room "with light" and then turn the lights off.

I'd much rather go ahead into the room and turn the lights off for you.

Screenwriter Secrets of Effective Storytelling!
Part 1: The Language (continued)

#3 - To [adverb] or not to [adverb]
Adverbs ("The part of speech that modifies a verb, adjective, or other adverb") are used in screenplays, but sparingly. Used well, they can provide sparks in the reader's mind. Used badly (aka "too often") they're mud caking up on your boots. Weighing you down. Bringing "what happens next" to a halt.

Many storytellers, especially those of us seldom called upont to exercise our skills, can rely on adverbs to give extra emotional weight to the story. But what we don't realize is very often the facts of the story carry a significant amount of that weight already. Just by telling the simple, unadorned story itself, we can create the most compelling pictures in the reader's mind.

The problem with adverbs is that they dictate one way of looking at an incident, and remove the audience's ability to provide their own vision. Used heavily, adverbs limit the reader's creativity. They weigh you down.

In the "Aliens" example, there are two well-placed adverbs: blindingly and silently. And they aren't used metaphorically. They actually describe the effect on the audience's two senses - seeing and hearing.

Earlier, I said I fall into this trap too. I did in this post. In the sentence beginning "Many storytellers..." I first wrote "can rely heavily on adverbs..." When I proofed the post, I took my own advice, and deleted "heavily." And I think the sentence is all the better for it.

Screenwriter Secrets of Effective Storytelling!
Part 1: The Language (continued)

Off the Beaten Path
Just one more example supporting the “Level III Diagnostic” storytelling problem I describe in my previous post. In "What do you do with your blog on the weekend,” Problogger states:

“The weekend is here and I’m looking forward to some fun. You see today is my Son’s first birthday party (his actual birthday is next Friday) and we’re getting together with family and friends to celebrate his first year…”

I do this all this time, and I hear others doing it too. Even Problogger, who has an awesome site, falls into the trap. He lets us know that today is his son’s first birthday (a very cool detail), then he backtracks to tell us his son’s actual birthday is next Friday. It of course matters to him, but it doesn’t matter to us. Repeating the information breaks the story. Providing more info on the birthday (even if it's just clarifying) starts us thinking that the story's going down a different path, even though it's not.

I have a friend who does this so often while he speaks, that he often forgets the the point of his story, since he’s wandered so far off the topic. I have to tell him “go back to the original subject of your story” (that is, if I remember what it was.)

Bottom line: leaving out some details, even if they further clarify or even reveal a truth, is sometimes OK to do.

If I'm guilty of it in this post, I apologize.

Screenwriter Secrets of Effective Storytelling!
The Language (continued):
#2. Getting Stuck in a “Level III Diagnostic”

How exact do we need to be in our stories? Everyone these days deals with so much technical and highly sophisticated information. Programs, concepts, research and the like, so vital to the story, begs to be explained for the lay person (or anyone with power and little time.) What do you do when you need to include a technical term that'll take a few paragraphs to explain, but you don't want to give over that much space to it?

Give in and dumb it down a bit. Find a related concept, or an easy-to-explain item, that can stand in for the complex. You're not writing a doctoral dissertation here, right? (And if you are, stop reading and go back to work!)

Let's use Star Trek as an example. Gene Roddenberry's characters are always using “tricorders” when the set their “phasers on stun” to capture some “dilithium crystals” for the "warp drive." He was making terms up to stand for fictional scientific information that was supposedly centuries in the future. Did Captain Kirk ever stop and deliver a dissertation to the crew on proper phaser use? Of course not!

Roddenberry, in The Making of Star Trek, said that although nobody had ever heard of these things before, he wasn’t about to have a character say “We’ll meet in the Transporter room. The Transporter will disassembled our body’s atoms and shoot them down to the planet where the beam will reassemble us.” All the other characters already know that. To state it would sound unnatural. And in westerns, the gunslinger never says "let me aim my Winchester repeating action rifle, which will fire a number of deadly rounds, at the sheriff."

Roddenberry's solution? Create terms that are 1-off from what we know. He kind of “dumbed down” the future for us. That is, the Star Trek future.

Tricorder? Recorders.
Phasers? Lasers.
Dilithium? Lithium.

Lay them out and then back away.

A long description of the term "pathology" will break your story into pieces. Better to just say "disease." If you can find an image that’s 1-off from what we already know, you can cover even more ground. Don’t worry about getting every detail absolutely right. Just worry about the ones that are important - the details that move the story forward. And if someone complains? Offer to fix it the next time (yeah, I know, that's a terrible suggestion. Maybe someone else has an improved reply?)

Screenwriter Secrets of Effective Storytelling!
What's this series about? Scroll to the end of this post for the answer...

Part 1: The Language
Screenwriters (especially unknowns) are always swimming upstream. They have two pages to grab the reader’s attention, and then not only keep it, but make sure that reader blasts from sentence to the next and one page to the next.

Screenplay readers (usually always attached to a production company) will sometimes take home a stack of scripts to read provide what’s called “coverage,” which includes whether or not to advance the screenplay to whatever the next round is. And script readers claim that the piles of scripts next to their beds are basically worthless, unreadable, and worst of all, boring!

It’s all a part of the ongoing problem we all face: attracting interest, and then maintaining it.

In order to do this, screenwriting language is simple, clear, concise, unadorned, all the things you’ve learned through school and in Strunk & White.

What does screenwriting language do? To begin with it:

I. Plants a crystal clear image in the reader’s mind
Remember the first time you saw Aliens? If it was in a packed movie house, you’ll definitely remember the audience’s reaction to this scene. I remember the audience I was in: everyone said “Oh, NO!”


It started with a crystal clear description in the script. Notice how the words, with blazing efficiency, give us the scene:

Newt, standing waist deep in the water, watches sparks shower blindingly as Hicks cuts. She bites her lip, trembling. Cold and terrified. Silently a glistening shape rises in one graceful motion from the water behind her. It stands, dripping, dwarfing her tiny form. Newt turns, sensing the movement...She SCREAMS as the shadow engulfs her.

Terry Rossio, co-writer of all three Pirates of the Caribbean flicks, says “Write what you see.”

To paraphrase for the rest of us: Write what you saw.

***

About this series: Made to Stick devotes an entire chapter to Stories. I've found that many of us a pretty good at telling stories, but not so great at writing them. I've seen organizations design pages on their Web sites, asking for story submissions, but what comes back (if anything comes back) is usually unusable.

That's where I'm stepping in. As a playwright and screenwriter (semi-produced), I've compiled all sorts of facts, methods, tools and ideas from the experts in dramatic writing. I've categorized them under three headings: The Language for Stories, The People in Stories, and The Structure of Stories. And I've taken heed of one of the methods and just started the series, without a lengthy explanation at the beginning. Here's hoping that by writing them down, I'll at least use some of these ideas when I get stuck, as often happens.

(This post's "Headline Emotional Marketing Value" score: 80%)