StoryNotesNewsletter #30

Newsletter Contents:

1. The Key Elements of Drama (a short article)

2. Special Offer:

~~ 1 slot left for 1/3 off offer for screenplay evaluation ~~  (details after the article)

3. Other Online Articles, and Coming Up

THE KEY ELEMENTS OF DRAMA

  Inspired by Paddy Chayefsky

by Jeff Newman

Paddy Chayefsky, award-winning writer for TV, stage, and screen, once said that the essence of a dramatic story was this: "Who's the hero, what's he want, and what's in the way?"

He also said, "Drama is only concerned with emotion. Your basic story is also the emotional line of your script."

Here's another Chayefsky insight: he once revealed that as soon as he determined the theme of a play or screenplay, he would type it out in one short phrase or sentence and tape it onto his typewriter. He wanted to make sure that nothing went into the story that didn't pertain to the theme.

And finally, he also said he found it valuable to make use of a simple, basic structure and to be mindful of certain structural principles such as pace, progression, and escalation.

Between these four statements, Chayefsky concisely identified the core elements of dramatic writing:

Character.  Goal. Conflict. Structure. Theme. Emotion. And inherent in them, an intriguing concept.

The primary purpose: to create an emotional experience while exploring and illustrating one or more worthy themes.

CHARACTER, GOAL, & CONFLICT

These days, we might want to rephrase Chayefsky's statement. Often, we don't really think of our main characters as heroes. Maybe partially so, but only near the end. And of course, to say "what's he want?" is an old-fashioned convention. It's meant to include the feminine gender, but today we're more careful to be inclusive.

So we could rephrase it for our times, to say "Who's the main character? What's the goal? And who and what are in the way?"

A one-sentence story summary for most scripts can use the following model:

"A (main character) wants to ..., but ...."

The "but" refers to the conflict, of course; it prompts us to include a brief listing of the problems, obstacles, opposition, and/or main-character deficiencies that will make achieving the goal difficult, risky, and unlikely.

Chayefsky's phrase, or our modern rewriting of it, reminds us that story is, fundamentally, about one or more people who want something, but for a time, cannot get it. The difficulty of the goal itself, plus problems, obstacles, and opposition, force them to struggle to achieve it. It all comes down to "the obstructed will" --  which is drama described in three words.

EVOKING EMOTIONS

The second quotation reminds us that a story isn't just about the events, and the plot isn't just a matter of creating a chain of actions that lead us to the outcome. A story is about more than just the conclusion. Merely pressing forward, "getting on with it," and always advancing toward the end isn't enough. It's about the journey as well. Some writers seem to forget that plot is there to serve the story -- and the audience. It doesn't exist for its own sake.

A story -- at least in mainstream and traditional plays and movies -- exists to create an array of emotions in the viewer. Sometimes low-key, sometimes intense, sometimes pleasurable, sometimes dark, angry, fearful, or tense. Successful writers and filmmakers use characters, events, visuals, and sound to evoke emotion. Each and every moment is designed to create particular thoughts and feelings in the majority of the viewers.

Some writers, directors, and producers chart out an Audience Line or Emotional Throughline, to make sure that emotion of some sort or another is nearly always present, and that a suitable variety and effective contrasts are achieved. Drama (including comedy) without emotion is a mere mental exercise. It's flat, cold, and uninvolving. One might as well write an essay or a report.

CONVEYING THEME

In John Brady's book of interviews The Craft of the Screenwriter, Chayefsky said, "The best thing that can happen is for the theme to be nice and clear from the beginning." And then, as mentioned, having figured out the primary theme, he would come up with a concise summation of it and post it where he would see it as he wrote. Writers who do this are then kept aware of their theme, which is what the story is really about. The thematic statement acts as a sentry, turning away events that don't relate to it.

Theme serves two functions: together with goal, it acts as a unifying force in the story; it's a way to make sure the story becomes and remains cohesive. And, of course, theme helps provide some significance and substance to a story which otherwise would seem rather trivial.

Many writers view story -- including screen stories -- as the interplay of ideas and emotions, by means of character and events (and visuals, sound, and music). Theme without emotion is interesting but not compelling, and in drama, feels sterile. Emotion without theme(s) comes across as empty, insignificant, and often as melodramatic claptrap. The best writers use both. The intermingling and sometimes interaction of ideas and emotions are seen in nearly all the best and most popular films. Plots are developed with them in mind.

STRUCTURE

Chayefsky also had some thoughts on structure, and its importance in shaping the story and maximizing its effectiveness. He utilized a basic form of three-act structure, and he believed that it's important to make sure that overall, tensions and the intensity of emotions should escalate and peak late in Act 3. And most events should lead -- and build -- both to the end of the act that they are in, and to the overall outcome.

SUMMARY

In just four short statements, Chayefsky set forth the key elements of drama.

Concept. Character. Goal. Conflict. Structure. Theme. Emotion.

That's the art of screenwriting in a nutshell.

# # #

(You might enjoy viewing -- or revisiting -- some of Paddy Chayefsky's movies. They include MARTY, THE AMERICANIZATION OF EMILY, THE HOSPITAL, and of course, NETWORK.)

Copyright 2006 by Jeff Newman

http://storynotes.net

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

** SPECIAL OFFER **

ONE SLOT LEFT: One more person -- the first one to email me about it -- will receive 1/3 off my normal evaluation rates.

So if you have a screenplay that you think is marketable, and you want a professional evaluation to make sure that's it's as good as it could and should be prior to sending it out -- or if you are nearly completed, and want to pay in advance so as to be in first position (no waiting) once you finish and also in order to take advantage of the discount -- you may email me at storynotes@....

Check out my screenplay evaluation services at http://storynotes.net -- the $400 evaluation would be $266, the $800 evaluation would be $533, and the $2,000 evaluation would be $1,333. Payable by check or Paypal.

I was rated as one of the Top Two script consultants by Creative Screenwriting magazine in their March/April 1999 issue. This was out of 17 analysts that they reviewed and ranked.

SAMPLE TESTIMONIAL:

"As a graduate from USC Cinema and as a former four-year member of Columbia Pictures' story department, and as a former story analyst (more than 1,000 submissions synopsized and analyzed), I know brilliant story advice when I read it. Jeff Newman's articles on screenwriting have been absolutely outstanding. They are more valuable than any book on screenwriting I've read."

Julian Myers, c/o Julian Myers Public Relations

OTHER ONLINE ARTICLES

Check out my series on "Pre-Writing: Before You Write 'Fade In'" at:

http://www.hollywoodlitsales.com/cf/journal/index.cfm?intID=51

If the above link doesn't work, go to...

http://www.hollywoodlitsales.com/index.php

... and in the lefthand column, click on Hot Tips/Columns and then scroll down until my listing appears.

COMING UP

An interview with former NBC story executive Dona Cooper, and an interview with an unusual (unnamed) producer.

Best wishes,

Jeff Newman

http://storynotes.net

# # #

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StoryNotesNewsletter #27

Recently I came across a
conversation I had with
Lew Hunter back in 1995,
which appeared in the print
publication of "StoryNotes"
that I had at the time.  I
was pleased to see that it is
all still relevant and filled
with good information and ideas.

So ... I'm making it available.
Right here and now.  There are
some great craft-related
insights here; I'm grateful Lew
gave me permission to run it
again online.  A few follow-up
questions and answers have been
included.

Before we begin, may I be permitted a personal
announcement?

The current issue of "Creative Screenwriting"
magazine contains the debut of my new column,
"Our Craft."  It's the July 2003 issue, with
"Pirates of the Caribbean" on the cover.  I'm
proud to be a columnist now at that publication.

My initial series of columns will identify and
debunk dubious screenwriting advice.  There's a
lot of it out there.  I target decrees, edicts,
commandments, and so-called rules that I feel
are partially or in some cases wholly false.

So if you happen to see an issue at your local
news-stand or bookstore, you might want to give
the newly revamped Creative Screenwriting (and
my column) a look-see.  Maybe even buy it.

Or go to http://creativescreenwriting.com to subscribe.


Returning to the content-portion of the newsletter:


I found Lew to be friendly, helpful, and as expected,
extremely knowledgeable.  The occasion of the conversation
was the then-recent publication of his book.

Now semi-retired, Lew worked for Columbia, Lorimar,
Paramount, Disney, and at NBC, ABC, and CBS as a writer,
producer, and executive.  For a number of years he was a
screenwriting instructor and chairman of the screenwriting
department at UCLA, one of the top film schools in the U.S.

I'll mention what he's been up to lately at the conclusion
of the conversation -- including info about his new book.

And now ...


ISSUE #27


A CONVERSATION WITH


              LEW HUNTER ... A Writer with Class


                        by Jeff Newman


Based on his acclaimed class at UCLA, "Lew Hunter's
Screenwriting 434" was endorsed by Michael Ovitz, Michael
Eisner, and many others.  It is one of the two best-selling
books on screenwriting ever.


NEWMAN:  Many books on screenwriting already line our
shelves.  What contribution did you want to make by adding
another?

HUNTER:  Many people asked me to.  But I didn't hit on the
right approach until a publisher suggested, "Why don't you
put your class on paper?"  I thought that was a good idea,
because what my class does is go through the process of how
to write a screenplay.

So the value is two-fold.  One, I've been making a living as
a screenwriter for twenty-five years, in addition to
teaching at UCLA for fifteen.  I felt that I had a certain
cachet that many others do not have, in my opinion.

But the main reason was because all of the books pretty much
talk *about* screenwriting, talk *around* screenwriting, but
they don't literally go through the screenwriting process.
Not on such a step-by-step, "how-to" basis.

NEWMAN:  Yes, that *is* a different approach.  In fact, I
find your discussion of the revision and rewriting process
-- "Chapter 8: The Rewrite(s)" -- to alone be worth the cost
of the book.  That and the "Page 17" discussion.

HUNTER:  Thank you.

NEWMAN:  But first let's talk about part of the preparatory
phase.  Do you advise your students to work out a very long
and detailed character bio?  Or is it all right with you to
keep it somewhat sketchy?  In one of William Froug's books
he and some of the writers he interviewed mentioned that
they don't need to know how much change a character has in
his pocket or what elementary school he went to.

HUNTER:  No, I don't think you should know all that stuff.
Your outline shouldn't be overly detailed.  You don't want
to leave your fight in the dressing room.  I think you
should have a rounded-out idea of who your character is.
Your character sketches should give a lot of latitude for
growth.  When you begin writing, your characters will grow,
if you let them.  They need room to grow.

NEWMAN:  The main thing is to know their speech patterns,
their personality types, and what motivates them -- their
attitudes and values -- as well as you would for a good
friend.

HUNTER:  I agree.  Allow your characters some breathing room
within the context of your story, and be open to your
subconscious.  To a large degree, as Lajos Egri said, your
characters drive your picture.  In most of the great movies,
it's the *characters* you remember best -- Rhett Butler and
Scarlett O'Hara, Rick Blaine.  You remember the characters.
Lock yourself in you'll find yourself with sterile
characters.

NEWMAN:  The movies we really remember have great characters
and several marvelous moments.

HUNTER:  Exactly.

NEWMAN:  In the screenplays I evaluate by non-pros, some of
them are pretty solid in terms of structure and the plot is
in pretty good shape, but the characters aren't quite alive.
And sometimes they make the characters say or do things they
really wouldn't.  I don't think the writers are actually in
the characters' heads as they write them.  That seems tough
for some writers to do.  In your class, did you have an
exercise to help with this?  I'm sure mainly it's a matter
of talent, but I was wondering if you had some techniques to
help with this.

HUNTER:  Write a brief description of your main characters,
like a strong paragraph.  My only change is that I now ask
the writer to write the description in the first person and
go to the soul of the character, not the trivial.  It can
sound trivial but ... well ... "I hope someday I have
furniture you can't clean by washing it off with a garden
hose."  That certainly isn't trivial, eh?

NEWMAN:  Not at all.  That's a good way to get to know the
character better -- in ways that really count -- and also to
practice seeing through the character's eyes.  Thinking the
character's thoughts and feeling his or her emotions.

HUNTER:  It helps you see their perspective, and it helps
you get to know their soul.

NEWMAN:  Speaking of plot vis a vis character ... you wrote
about *vertical* versus *linear* stories, which basically
means character-driven versus plot-dominant stories, and how
movies tend to fall or at least lean one way or another.
What about CASABLANCA?

HUNTER:  Most movies -- many very good ones -- *do* lean one
way or another.  But I think the pictures we all most enjoy
are both character- and plot-oriented simultaneously.  They
have both.  A crackerjack of a story will have both.  We
are, primarily, storytellers, but we have to have wonderful
characters in there for the audience to remember and because
that's what the audience cares about, identifies with, and
roots for.

NEWMAN:  You recommend writing a two-page outline before
starting the first draft -- no less, and no more.

HUNTER:   Two pages, double-spaced, giving a good idea not
just of the main idea or concept, of course, but of the
beginning, middle, and end.  Less and it's too sketchy --
not enough thinking has gone into it.  Just too vague.  More
and you're starting to lock yourself in, putting yourself in
a straitjacket.  You should indicate but brush over the
middle and the end.

Now, we still will do a step outline -- not including every
single scene, but the steps.

NEWMAN:  A "step" meaning a significant incident or event
... you wouldn't include the little quarter- or half-page
mini-scenes or sub-scenes that act as a transition between
scenes, or as a tag to one scene or more usually an
introduction to another.

HUNTER:  Right.  Those are important for pace and flow and
variety, but we don't list them with the steps, or if we do,
we include them as part of the step before or after.  There
should be between 30 and 45 steps.  Less, and it will be too
short for a feature.  More and it'll be too long.

NEWMAN:  Too long, or else -- to keep it to 120 pages --
you'd have to rush pell-mell through every event ... nothing
would be developed; it would be too choppy.  No time for
moments or details or character, just a scramble to get
those events in and on to the next.

HUNTER:  Yes, that's right.  So 30 to 45 steps.  And again,
don't use the outline as a straitjacket.  If you use it
right, it *will* help you through the middle!  As Steven
Spielberg says, "We all get in trouble in the second act."

NEWMAN:  If you're having trouble with the middle, do you
think it's okay to abandon the step outline and just write
... over-write, really, in an exploratory way ... to create
what Alvin Sargent calls "The Goop" from which you might
then discover your story, as well as some good scenes or
nuggets?

HUNTER:  Sure.  As writers, we always have the eraser at the
end of the pencil.  Or the delete key.  Write now, and find
what's good.  Say "I'm going to go this way for a while.
It may be terrible, but it also may lead to something
wonderful."  And then select and rewrite that so it's up
to snuff.

You should always have room in the development of your
script to be ... well, to be wonderful ... which means you
have to be open to that subconscious of yours which is
happening while you're writing the script.  That's why, once
a writer starts the first draft, I urge them to write
speedily -- five to ten pages a day -- in order to use your
subconscious.

Keep your conscious mind at bay until after the first draft
so the subconscious can come to the fore.  Then unleash your
conscious mind for the second draft and so on, and make it
good.

NEWMAN:  This brings to mind something you said once to me
in a phone conversation.  Let's see if I remember it
correctly: you recommend that writers, once they start their
writing day, never go back and revise pages any further back
than the last day's work.

I have to say, that made good sense to me at the time, and
I've passed the advice along to others, too, especially
those who say they feel confused as to how much revising and
polishing to do while in the midst of the first draft.  I've
seen that this really is of concern to many non-pro writers.
Some are actively looking for a better approach.  Others
report that they have found themselves bogged down in
screenplay after screenplay ... and it's partly because they
keep going several days back with their revising --
sometimes all the way to the beginning!  And thus they lose
momentum, even focus.  And the energy and time needed to
move forward.  And by being bogged down in details of
particular events, they probably lose track of the big
picture, too.

So I always tell them what you told me.  When writing your
first draft, only revise the pages from earlier that day or
the day before -- then move on.

HUNTER:  Your recollection is exactly correct.

NEWMAN:  However, revising or polishing the pages from the
previous day, as long as we restrict ourselves to that --
that has some value.  They won't seem so depressingly rough
later on, and also ...

HUNTER:  It's warmup.  It gets you primed to write today's
original pages.

NEWMAN:  But to go back further than one day ... to keep on
re-writing past pages rather than moving forward?

HUNTER:  That's the surest path to madness and death in my
mind.

NEWMAN:  Okay!


============================================================

"THE PICTURES WE ALL MOST ENJOY ARE BOTH CHARACTER *AND*
PLOT ORIENTED ...  A CRACKERJACK OF A STORY WILL HAVE BOTH.
WE ARE, PRIMARILY, STORYTELLERS, BUT WE HAVE TO HAVE
WONDERFUL CHARACTERS ... BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT THE AUDIENCE
CARES ABOUT ..."

============================================================


NEWMAN:  What's the weakest thing you tend to see in student
scripts?

HUNTER:  The second act.  If the second act is not good,
that means the structure is not good.

I think the most important thing you should have is a
wonderful idea.  Ask yourself, "Is the script worth doing?"
Be sure it's an idea worth doing and one that you *can* do.
And one that you think the audience really wants to get
with.

Then after that, the second most important part of the
process is the development of the story and the structure.
Then comes the execution of the script, which is important
but in comparison is less important, although certainly more
time consuming.

But no matter how well-written, the script isn't going to be
wonderful if the story and structure aren't good.  And the
story and structure are worth nothing if the idea isn't
wonderful.  You can fix the script.  You can't really fix
the idea.

NEWMAN:  I was fascinated by your concept that the end of
Act 1 occurs on about page 17.  All other books and
instructors say it's between pages 20 and 35 -- and there
*is* a big event, a turning point, in most movies right in
that area.

HUNTER:  There is, but it's a one-quarter turn.  We're
already into Act 2.  I came to this flexible Page 17 when
developing my class.  I had hundreds of scripts in my
garage, and I went through them.  In about 150 of them, and
in many movies I've seen since, it's actually on Page 17.  I
think it's tied to a biological rhythm.  And in many others
it fell very close to that; it's flexible.

It often involves a significant decision which sets or
changes the course.  If the audience has to wait until page
25 or 30 to find out what the movie's about, they'll think
"Gosh, maybe I got ripped off."  They'll grow restless.

NEWMAN:  Even resentful.

HUNTER:  Yes.  They want to get an idea much earlier about
what the hero wants and what the movie's about.  And some of
that comes as early as the first scene, or should.

The body floating in the pool of a movie star's mansion in
SUNSET BOULEVARD.  The death of Kane and the "Rosebud"
remark in the first scene of CITIZEN KANE.  The drifting
feather and a sense of Forrest's character right off in
FORREST GUMP.

NEWMAN:  You maintain that the basic idea, the basic story,
and sometimes the hero's goal becomes quite clear by page
17, with whatever decision or event which happens there.

HUNTER:  Yes.  So then by about page 17, the audience says,
"Ah.  This is what the movie's about," and they can settle
back and enjoy the complications.  Which is the Act 2.

Then there's the quarter turn around page 25 or 30.

NEWMAN:  Which is what others have called the end of Act 1.

HUNTER:  Well, I think that's at the Page 17 area; I think
that one is more important.  The event at the one-quarter
mark is important, but not as much so.  It's a bend, a
quarter turn.  I feel we're already into Act 2 at that
point.

NEWMAN:  Well, whichever marks the official end of Act 1 --
which is basically academic and up to the writer --
certainly I think you've identified a plot point that's been
overlooked up until now.

HUNTER:  Start watching movies and reading scripts with that
in mind.  You'll see it's there.


============================================================

"I THINK THE MOST IMPORTANT THING YOU SHOULD HAVE IS A
WONDERFUL IDEA. ... THE STORY AND STRUCTURE ARE WORTH
NOTHING IF THE IDEA ISN'T WONDERFUL."

============================================================


NEWMAN:  So we've passed this Clarifying Event around page
17, and the "bend" around pages 25-30.  We've entered Act 2,
we're pursuing the goal, we're encountering conflict.  Now
what?

HUNTER:  Then you work toward the Midpoint or Center Point.

NEWMAN:  And what happens there?

HUNTER:  That's when the hero decides he's going to stop
being reactive and will now be an active hero, or is forced
into being one.  It's where Forrest Gump resolves to carry
out Bubba's plans as promised, even after his good friend's
death.  It's when the hero decides or is forced to energize
himself into action.  When, in CITIZEN KANE, he says, to
paraphrase, "Screw it, I'm going to go out and become
president of the country."  It's when Butch and Sundance
decide to go to Bolivia.

NEWMAN:  And, in your analysis, Act 3 begins where?

HUNTER:  The ending is quite flexible.  It could be the last
quarter of the script, or maybe just a dozen pages.  It
could start on page 85 or page 105, wherever we take a turn
and we start the beginning of the end.

In FORREST GUMP it's where he finds out Jenny lives just
down the road and he takes off to go there.

But the Page 17 is something I feel very strongly about.

And the Midpoint, too.  Most pictures that don't have a key
event around the page 17 area and also a strong Midpoint ...
are not good pictures!

The other designations are guidelines; to be too rigid is to
don a straitjacket.


============================================================

"MOST PICTURES THAT DON'T HAVE A KEY EVENT AROUND THE PAGE
17 AREA AND ALSO A STRONG MIDPOINT ... ARE NOT GOOD
PICTURES!"

============================================================


NEWMAN:  Let's say your script is based on a good idea, and
the script is well-written, but it's too long  -- 130 pages.
Not acceptable to most of Hollywood.  And maybe inherently
too long.  How do you approach cutting?  Besides just
general editing?

HUNTER:  Go back to your outline.  Have you added steps to
your 30-45?  Or just over-developed them?   Can some be
combined or even cut?  Also go back and examine your central
idea, what your movie's really about.  Then start to cut
away that which doesn't relate to your spine.

One thing you have to figure out early on is what the hell
the movie's about -- what the spine is.  Not necessarily
what the story's about, but what the movie's *really* about.
About time passing Butch and Sundance by.  That by putting
on a dress, this guy in TOOTSIE becomes a better man.  About
a guy who's living his life for everyone else in DOG DAY
AFTERNOON.  That's the spine of your movie, what it's really
about.  Figure out "What am I really, really trying to say?"

NEWMAN:  What about the old saw, "Write about what you
know?"

HUNTER:  I encourage people to write, number one: something
they know about, and two: something they care about.
Whether it's through your own experience or through
research, you really must know your subject.  And you have
to care about it.  Something you can get passionate about.

NEWMAN:  Almost as hard as learning how to write a good
screenplay is finding an agent.  Do you feel, once you've
been told by others that your writing is really good (and
you feel so, too) that a writer should start learning about
the business aspect?

HUNTER:  Yes.  But while scouting for representation, while
waiting to hear about a script, keep on writing.  That's
most important.  Don't stop.  Don't ever stop writing.

A writer has to have two sides.  A writer must be writing,
and a writer must also be selling.  Or you will never become
a professional writer.  Even the top professional writers
are always working the room, they're still selling.

NEWMAN:  Any closing comment to screenwriters aspiring to
professional status?

HUNTER:  Writers write.  It's our UCLA motto.  Writers
write.  Not do bullshit exercises.  Throw yourself into the
deep end of the pool.

And don't try to be as good as the best out there -- yet.
Try to be as good as *you* can be at this point, and keep
writing and studying so you can keep getting better.

Read the books, study the movies, take some courses to help
you learn the craft -- that's helpful and part of it.  But
then you must do some "seat writing" -- seat of pants to
seat of chair.  If you want to be writers, you must get out
the pages.

And the learning curve is incredible -- you'll see a
tremendous difference from scripts one and two to scripts
four and five.  By all means take the newsletters, join the
support groups and a writing group.  But above all, write.
Writers write.

                            # # #

Copyright Jeff Newman & Lew Hunter 1995


                     POST INTERVIEW NOTES

As I mentioned in the interview, I think Lew's book is
valuable if nothing else than for Chapter 8: "The
Rewrite(s)."  We didn't discuss it in the interview, because
he covers it so thoroughly in the book.  I simply didn't
have any questions on the ideas and techniques in that
chapter.  Merely admiration for it.  He provides a
systematic approach that is the best I've read on this topic
in any book on screenwriting.

Another noteworthy chapter, and for many, one that may prove
extremely helpful, is Chapter 4: in particular the sections
in it dealing with step outlines.  He has a different -- and
I think superior -- take on outlines.

As mentioned in the interview, he calls for 30-45 steps for
an average-length movie, depending on the genre.  And he
advocates a true *step* outline, rather than a scene-by-
scene outline.  For the details, read that chapter.

I also found his thinking on the flexible "Page 17" event to
be significant and thought-provoking.  I don't personally
agree it's usually the End of Act 1, although in some cases,
such as "Wizard of Oz" -- the tornado whisking her away, and
her landing in Oz -- it could certainly be seen as such.

Sparked by his insight on that, and the brief discussion of
the flexible "Page 17" event in the book (which he expanded
upon in the above interview), I studied the issue myself and
gave it much thought, writing an article on it for "Drama-
Logue" back in 1996.  I then discussed the issue with Linda
Seger and Dona Cooper, and their comments on that (and other
matters) will be in upcoming interviews.

(Note:  I'll be including a revised version of that Drama-
Logue article in an up-coming e-mail issue.  It *won't* be
available to non-members on the online site, only to members
of this group -- which, if you're reading this in e-mail
form, you already are. In fact, neither will the Linda Seger
or Dona Cooper interviews be available to non-members.

(So if you are reading this online, and wish to get those
interviews and the article I just mentioned -- by e-mail, or
online but only if a member of this Yahoo Group -- then you
must join this Yahoo Group -- StoryNotesNewsletter.  But
it's totally free; no charge.  Do so by clicking "Join" near
the top-right section of the online page:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter )

                     WHAT'S NEW WITH LEW?

Getting back to Lew (and what he's been up to) ...

Since retiring from UCLA, he's been traveling, giving
seminars, writing a novel, and hosting 2-week writing
colonies in a beautiful section of Nebraska.  You can read
about that and more at

http://lewhunter.com

AND:

Something to really look forward to ...

                  HIS NEW SCREENWRITING BOOK

Lew's new book will hit the shelves next year.  Its colorful
title: "Naked Screenwriting: Interviews with 20 Academy
Award-Winning Directors and Writers."

The book features conversations with 20 Academy Award-winning
screenwriters and writer-directors who "bare their
art, soul, craft and secrets."

It's scheduled for summer or fall of 2004.  I look forward
to it.

                          THAT'S IT!

Coming soon: interviews with Linda Seger and Dona Cooper.
An article on "High Concept."  And an interview with a
writer who sold six high-concept projects without writing a
screenplay for them -- just based on the idea.  He did this
without an agent, nor was he a member of the Writers Guild.

Although having then also sold a high-concept screenplay, he
is now a member.

If you see the "Pirates of the Caribbean" issue of "Creative
Screenwriting," you might want to check out my column (on
pages 44-45).

                            # # #

StoryNotesNewsletter #26

Some great issues coming up --
conversations and nitty-gritty
interviews with Linda Seger,
Lew Hunter, and Dona Cooper ...
talking about craft, in-depth.
You know how you sometimes have
questions about things they say
in their books that you'd like
to ask them if you could?  Well,
I did.

Also ...

For details about the new

StoryNotes SCREENPLAY CONTEST

(a mere $20 entry fee ... and yes,
you get feedback -- and bonus
articles!) click on the "Contest"
link at http://storynotes.com

And now ...


ISSUE #26


DON'T BE THOUGHTLESS
WITH YOUR SCREENPLAY!

GIVE IT A


                            THEME


     Does your current story have a unifying thematic idea --
one that functions as a thesis statement, a controlling
idea, or at least a central concern?  In fact, some stories
have not one, but several thematic ideas, in which case the
ideas are generally complementary and mutually supporting.
When there is more than one thematic idea, usually one of
them is predominant.

     Why is theme employed?  What are its benefits?

     A theme lends a story some significance.  There is now a
point behind all the sound, fury, and fun.  It imparts some
substance.  Some relevance.  True, there are some
purposefully light, superficial movies that have no theme --
but most movies do.  Even most TV dramas and many sitcoms.

     A theme need not be a moral or a message, although it
can be.  But more often, it's simply an observation on the
part of the author about life, people, and/or society.  It's
the *thought* behind the story.

     In many ways, *the overall story should illustrate the
theme.  And within the overall story, many specific plot
events illustrate, prove, or lay the foundation for the
theme*.

     A movie without a theme -- or several intertwined themes
-- seems rather empty.  We tend not to want to watch it
again -- it was (hopefully) fun or entertaining, but too
unsubstantial.  A theme is the "so what?" behind the story.
It gives the audience something to think about, maybe even
learn from -- although often on a subconscious level.

                      THEME VS. SUBJECT

     By the way, there is a distinction between *theme* and
*subject*.  A subject can be quite broad:  love, unchecked
ambition, alienation, greed, etc.  A theme would be a more
developed idea concerning the subject.  It's a more specific
statement.  The subject of "love," for instance, could lead
to perhaps dozens of thematic statements, each one
different.  Any given movie would probably utilize only one
or perhaps a few of them.

     For instance:

     "Love connects us to others, exhilarates us, makes us
feel more alive, and prompts us to become a better person;
love is worth the pain it often causes."

     "Love, when blind, causes misery for self and others."

     "A selfish love is worse than no love at all."

     "Those who have never received love, can never give it."

     Most stories where a subject such as "love" is the theme
will have one predominant, "umbrella" theme, and one or
several subordinate, contrasting, or complementary themes on
the subject.

                     EXPRESSING THEME

     A few examples of other themes:  in the fable "The
Tortoise and the Hare," the primary theme is "Persistence
Pays."  In other words, "Slow-but-sure will often lead to
victory."  The complementary theme is "Overconfidence and
arrogance can sabotage success."

     To consider a far more complex example, DEATH OF A
SALESMAN contains several complementary themes.  One of them
might be stated, "Misdirected goals lead to waste."  Two of
the related themes in ROMEO AND JULIET might be "Hatred and
Revenge lead to tragic and senseless loss, even death," and
also "Great Love can sometimes overcome Hatred, although
often at a great cost."

     The theme should not be so heavy-handed that the
audience goes out articulating it.  Usually, the theme is
sensed.  It's felt.  In fact, the theme should rarely be
stated flat-out in the story, except maybe in a disguised
fashion, or partially, in the course of an argument or an
off-hand comment.  The theme is best and most powerfully
expressed by the specific actions and by the overall sweep
of the story (i.e., by the basic concept or situation).

     Theme is also connected, often, to a character's Inner
Need and/or Key Flaw, and to a character arc.  Character,
plot, and theme are intricately interwoven.

     So a theme not only imparts some substance and
significance -- allowing some thought to accompany the
emotions -- it also helps to unify the story.  It provides
for a sense of cohesiveness.  The characters, traits,
decisions, actions, and events all relate to each other not
just in terms of goal or plot, but in terms of the
underlying thematic idea or ideas.

     Many comedies have themes -- TOOTSIE, BIRDCAGE,
PARENTHOOD.  Many of the better melodramatic action movies
do, such as TERMINATOR 2.  If movies like these can have a
theme and benefit by them, so can many others.

     Any many movies -- most of the really good ones -- don't
just utilize a theme.  They also make use of a *counter-
theme*.

                        COUNTER-THEME

     With a counter-theme, one of the characters presents an
alternate value or set of values, and may find fault with
the value(s) the movie presents as desirable.  Or, this
alternative can be indirectly presented or implied (via
actions, decisions, etc.).

     A counter-theme is like the antithesis to a thesis.  Pro
and con, positive and negative, yin and yang.

     Examples of counter-themes:  the contrast between Rick's
and Victor Laszlow's values and goals in CASABLANCA.  The
contrast between the opposing philosophies of George Bailey
and Mr. Potter in IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE, which are
articulated and argued in the boardroom scene about a third
of the way into the film.  There's a similar sharp contrast
between the life philosophies and values of Old Fezziwig and
those of Scrooge and Marley.  There are several sections
where these contrasting values are vigorously debated in the
1951 Alastair Sim version of A CHRISTMAS CAROL.

     Counter-themes also exist in the expressed values (and
actions) of the young and the old Kane in CITIZEN KANE.

     Another example:  the whole "Hakuna Matata" song in THE
LION KING.  It presents a seductive, appealing, persuasive,
and apparently viable contrast to the values Simba learned
as a cub (responsibility, obligations, a regard for the
well-being of others and for the future).  Here, his new-
found pals preach a carefree philosophy.  A "don't worry, be
happy" attitude.  Which, for a time, he adopts.  And which,
for a time, the audience (especially the younger members)
are meant to accept.  Later they will see that wisdom and
virtue mean rejecting such a lifestyle.

     A counter-theme adds thematic depth, vigor, and an
interesting contrast.  It challenges the audience, and
provides an added type of conflict (clashing, contrasting
values or beliefs).  Assuming you don't present a weak
"straw man" version of the counter-theme, it will make the
ultimate victory of the theme more satisfying and
convincing.

     And sometimes it gives you the option of not having
either set of values triumph, but instead you can, at the
end, arrive at a synthesis -- a compromise or middle-ground
formulation of the thesis and antithesis.

     Usually, however, the theme prevails over the counter-
theme, which, in the meantime, provides a contrast with the
main theme, thus adding another type of conflict, as well as
testing and challenging the theme (and the audience).  And
of course, showing something not just by itself but in
conjunction with its opposite is one way to draw attention
to that thing.

     So consider presenting and making a case for an opposite
or opposing value, belief, philosophy, code, operating
assumption, or observation about life.  Really try to make
it be credible and convincing -- maybe even appealing.

                  PRE-WRITING & "THEME-WORK"

     Here, then, are some questions you might want to ask
yourself after you've done a good deal of brainstorming
about your concept, characters, and plot possibilities, but
prior to writing your first draft.

     What underlying meaning might this concept hold?  And is
there any possible or inherent meaning to the set of events
that you've thus far developed?

     As for the still-tentative, still-forming characters who
will be challenged by this situation:  chances are you've
given them some needs and flaws which somehow relate to the
central situation and conflict.  For instance, the situation
and conflict may be particularly burdensome to these
characters partially due to their being out of their element
in some way, and partially due to their needs and/or flaws
-- but of course, the challenge at hand may also act as a
kind of opportunity (difficult and painful though it may be)
to dispel the flaw and fulfill their need.

     So, with theme in mind, consider those internal needs --
the way that they feel incomplete (lacking something within
themselves or their lives), and/or the way they have been
emotionally wounded in the past and have not fully healed
but are in need of healing.

     And again keeping theme in mind, also consider their
flaws: in particular, the flaw which acts as an internal
opponent and hinders the attainment of the character's inner
need and/or external goal.

     Then ponder how these needs and flaws might have
something to say about human nature, or human interactions.
Between the concept, some story incidents, and your
characters, see if one or a few coherent thematic ideas take
shape.  What are the central issues and concerns?  What
might all of this add up to?

     By doing this, it's likely your story will gain more
focus, and the various story elements will become more
unified and cohesive.  The story itself will be more
substantial.  Thought can accompany emotion.  Your story
will appeal to both the head and the heart.

                   AFTER THE INITIAL DRAFT

     Once you've completed your first draft and have set it
aside for a time, then read it over and ask yourself, "Does
the story contain one or more guiding thematic ideas?  What
is or are the dominant observations about life, people,
society, and/or existence as expressed within the material?"

     "Does the plot illustrate the theme or themes?"

     "Does the manner in which the conflict resolves relate
to the theme, or one of the themes?"

     "Does the main character's inner need and/or key flaw
relate to the theme?  What about the story's strongest
character arc?"

     "Is there a counter-theme?  If not, could there be?"

                           SUMMARY

     By adding significance and thoughtfulness, theme can
greatly enrich your screenplay.  By adding cohesion and a
sense of unity, theme can also help bring focus to your
story, and greatly strengthen the structure.

     Theme: it's always worth some thought.

                            # # #

Copyright 2003 by Jeff Newman

            *** STORYNOTES SCREENPLAY CONTEST! ***

                     $20 Entry Fee only!

     Does the screenwriting community *need* another
screenwriting contest?  Of course not.  So, what's this one
have to offer that most of the others don't?

     1.  A low entry fee ($20 if entering before August 30).

     2.  More feedback than most: a 4-page checklist, and a
half page of written comments.

     3.  Bonus articles on screenplay craft and formatting by
me, Jeff Newman -- ones not available on the net.  Over 60
pages ... so even if you don't win, you've gotten some
feedback and some great articles.

     4. Since it's a new contest, there won't be thousands of
entrants as with major, long-established contests.  Thus, a
better chance of winning one of the top three spots.

	 Oh, yes, the prizes.

	 Well, with a low entry fee, and being a new contest,
thus not getting vast numbers of entries, there's not a
large cash prize.  But here is what the top three entrants
will win:


1st PLACE:

     $1,000 "StoryNotes Deluxe Screenplay Evaluation" by
     Jeff Newman -- either on your winning screenplay,
     a previous screenplay, or your next one.

     Consideration by four WGA-signatory agents

     Your screenplay pitched by Jeff Newman to at least
     four well-known production companies

     Guaranteed to be read by Reel Life Productions

     Laser-engraved acrylic award


2nd PLACE:

     $600 StoryNotes Screenplay Evaluation (on the script of
     your choice, as above)

     Guaranteed to be read by Reel Life Productions

     Laser-engraved acrylic award


3rd PLACE:

     $400 StoryNotes Screenplay Evaluation (on the script of
     your choice)

     Guaranteed to be read by Reel Life Productions.

     Laser-engraved acrylic award


     The entry fees for the three winning writers will
     be refunded.


     Here is a description of the articles you will receive
as a bonus for entering:

1.  "20 STEPS TO MAKE YOUR FIRST 10 PAGES TERRIFIC" (four of
these tips can apply to your other pages, too).  A 7-page
article.

2.  "SPEC SCRIPT" --  a 20-page mini-screenplay which
demonstrates the desired "spec/submission script" style,
preferred margins-tabs-page layout, and which both discusses
and demonstrates various formatting issues, in the form of a
screenplay story.

3.  "FORMATTING YOUR SUBMISSION SCRIPT" -- a 16-page article
as originally seen in two parts in "ScreenTalk" magazine.

4.  "SCENE DESCRIPTION THAT DAZZLES" -- a 12-page article
about "How to Write Description and Action That Zips Along
and Puts Punch and Power Into Your Writing!"

5.  Analyst's Choice:  the fifth article will be determined
by evaluator Jeff Newman, based on the reading of your
submission.  The six options available are:

      "Theme" (a 24-page version of the above 6-page article)
      "Dialogue That Delivers"
      "Using Commas Correctly"
      "Writing Excellent Exposition"
      "Writing 3-Dimensional Characters"
      "How to Shorten Your Screenplay (Tips on Cutting &
       Editing)"

You can order the other five "Analyst's Choice" articles for
an additional $5.

DETAILS: go to http://storynotes.com and click on the
"Contest" link along the left-column buttons.

Note:  It's a pdf file, so you'll need the Adobe Acrobat
Reader to open the file, but most computers have that; if
not, it's a free program.

(For those who don't have Adobe Acrobat Reader: go to
http://www.adobe.com ... then, in the "Support" column,
click on "Download Adobe Reader," and then just follow the
simple directions.  It's free, and a great program to have
-- you can use it to download copyright forms from the
Library of Congress!)

By the way, as explained in the "Contest Rules & Procedures"
on the pdf document, there are advantages (beyond the lower
entry fee) to entering early -- such as, in July.


Entry Fee:

     $20.00  (if entered by August 30th)
     $27.50  (if entered by September 30)
     $30.00  (if entered by October 31 -- FINAL DEADLINE)

So go to http://storynotes.com -- click on the "Contest"
link, and see if this is for you.

                            # # #

StoryNotesNewsletter #25

Let's say you have three or
four reversals and/or major
turning points in your screen-
play.  That's still not going
to be enough to keep your story
from seeming too linear, too
unvaried ... too predictable.

So in addition to several big
reversals and/or turning points,
you need a few significant and
course-changing *complications.*

But before we delve into that...

If you might be interested in a
$99 SCREENPLAY EVALUATION, check
out the info at the end of the
article.


ISSUE #25


PLOT A VARIED COURSE WITH


                   * *  COMPLICATIONS  * *


                "COMPLICATION":  A DEFINITION

     A complication is a person, object, or event that alters
the course of the action that follows.  A complication
introduces some new element that forces a new response,
demands a new plan or subgoal, and leads the character --
and the story -- to a different direction.

     A complication creates a changed situation.

     A complication can consist of a "wrinkle" or "twist" in
the story line.  It can be a new opportunity.  Or a
discovery.  It might be the arrival of a new character -- or
when two characters meet.  Often it's a new, notable problem
-- or a sizable obstacle that can't be quickly surmounted.
It's some new factor that leads to a change of course, and
which noticeably alters the existing equation in terms of
situation, problem, goal, subgoal, plan, and/or
relationships.

     In short, a complication causes a lasting change in the
course of the plot.  It creates a significant bend or sharp
turn in the story line.

                 OBSTACLES VS. COMPLICATIONS

     Complications are similar to obstacles.  They both tend
to challenge the characters involved.  They both involve
time, effort, and thought by a character in order to deal
with them.

     The difference?  For one thing, occasionally
complications are positive events -- ones which complicate
and change things, but which are still primarily positive.
Usually, however, complications are troublesome, and could,
indeed, be considered obstacles.  But ... obstacles with
after-effects.  So in a sense, many complications are like
super-obstacles.

     An obstacle is an annoyance, danger, challenge, or
obstruction that causes a character to expend increased
energy, effort, thought, and/or time -- but once the
obstacle has been surmounted, it's over and done with.

     Characters need not deviate from their basic, intended
course to deal with obstacles.  They plow through them,
bypass them, or overcome them.  They may suffer a short
delay, or sometimes make a slight detour, but then they're
right back on course.  They were challenged by the obstacle,
and things were a bit "undecided" for a moment -- the
outcome uncertain -- but now they're back on track.

     With a complication, we are not back on track.  The path
has changed.  *Things aren't the same after a complication.*

                       EXAMPLES OF BOTH

     Good scripts contain both obstacles and complications.

     Let's review a few obstacles.  For instance, the toys on
the steps.  They threaten you, they slow you down.  But once
you gingerly step over and around them, you're done with
them.  Maybe you actually trip and fall, but you then get up
and resume your designated, intended path and plan.

     Once the plane blocking the runway is removed, then the
emergency landing can occur ... maybe just as it's running
out of fuel.  It's great stuff.  But if the plane lands as
intended, merely a bit late, then the blocked runway was an
obstacle, and not a complication.  Which is not necessarily
a bad thing.  Sometimes you want obstacles, and sometimes
(not as often) you want complications.  Both.  You need
both.

     Once you barge past the guard at the door (and maybe
outrun him and dodge bullets -- more obstacles), you're done
with him.  He was an obstacle.

     But ... all of those obstacles, if altered somewhat,
could become complications -- if it serves your story.

     Remember the toys on the steps?  If you trip on the toys
and now you have a broken leg, that affects and complicates
what you now can do.  Your plan or course of action changes.
The obstacle becomes a complication as well.  Especially if
being on your feet was important for that big job you were
about to start.  Or maybe you were planning on competing in
the Olympics, or running a marathon and you needed the prize
money.

     If so, then breaking your leg definitely affects the
action that follows.  It changes the story line, which now
veers off in another, unexpected direction.  And from the
character's point of view, this new course is often an
undesirable one, at least initially.

     If the blocked runway caused the plane to be rerouted
(or to crash), the obstacle became a complication.

     If the guard blocking your path knocks you out and you
awake imprisoned, or he shoots you while escaping and now
you are weak, in pain, and need to seek medical attention,
then that human obstacle turned into a complication.

     So most complications are also obstacles.  But they are
obstacles with lasting influence.

     To review thus far ...

     An obstacle creates an increased expenditure of thought,
time, and effort.  It slows characters down and makes them
try harder.  It tests and reveals their resolve and
resourcefulness.  But once they are past the obstacle, they
continue on the same path or course of action.

     But there's nothing temporary about a complication.  A
complication causes a *change* in the course of action that
follows.  Things are not the same after a complication.  And
that's why a complication is a often like a super-obstacle.
It's frequently an obstacle, yes, but it's more than that.
It's an obstacle with after-effects.  The consequences of
the complication linger.

     Whether caused by an object, a situation, bad luck, or
personal intervention, a complication continues to affect
the course of action long after the incident has happened.

                          VISUAL AID

     Perhaps the following visual representation can depict
this.  The dotted horizontal line represents a character's
initial course of action.  This is the current path or plan;
the intention is to keep pursuing this course in order to
reach or obtain a goal or subgoal ahead.



           *                               +
                *                       +
                     *               +
                          *       +
    ...........................*


     But then ... some kind of interference occurs.  The line
of asterisks coming in from an angle represents some sort of
outside object or event that "collides" with the character
-- or at any rate, with the character's immediate goal or
plan.  This collision or intervention causes a change in the
character's path.  Here, that new course is represented by
the line of plus signs.

     It's like what happens when one marble hits another.
Let's say a marble is on a particular path ... it's rolling
along, minding its own business, moving toward its
destination.  Then another marble hits it.  It deflects it
-- changing its course.  That second marble was a
complication.

     Or when one car bashes into another.  Again, the course
is altered.  Damage occurs.  The driver's arrival at the
intended destination will be postponed, at best.  And that
lateness could trigger further consequences and thus
changes.

     In a story, it may not be damage to the individual, but
to the plan.

                 ANTAGONISTS & COMPLICATIONS

     Obstacles don't and shouldn't happen only to the main
character.  Other characters, and in particular the
antagonist, when there is one, should also encounter
obstacles.

     So, too, with complications.  If a story contains an
adversary or opponent character, then that antagonist may
also experience a complication or two.  From the
antagonist's point of view, it could be positive, negative,
or mixed.

     In STAR WARS, the fact that the Death Star plans have
been ejected from the ship is a complication for Darth
Vadar.  The arrival of Luke and Obi-wan (and the others)
also complicates his plans and activities.

     In KARATE KID, when Mr. Miyagi intervenes to save
Daniel, and single-handedly overcomes karate champ-bully
Johnny and his buddies, that's definitely a negative
complication from Johnny's point of view.  And, conversely,
a primarily positive one from Daniel's.

                   POSITIVES AND NEGATIVES

     Thus, as noted earlier, complications are not always bad
news for the character who experiences them.  A complication
sometimes is completely positive and welcome.  More often
it's undesired and seen as a major difficulty.  Frequently,
it is mixed:  in some ways a positive development, but with
negative attributes attached.

     And sometimes the degree to which a complication is good
or bad depends entirely on the perspective of the character
who experiences it.  One character may embrace it, another
curse it.  It can help one, and hinder another.

                      REEL-LIFE EXAMPLES

     We've already noted two complications (from the
antagonist's point of view) in STAR WARS.  Here are some
protagonist-oriented examples:  when Luke sees the
holographic image of Princess Leia emerging from R2D2, this
significantly alters the course of the story -- and his
life.

     Certainly the group's being taken onto the Death Star
against their will is a major complication.  Then they learn
that the Princess is aboard and scheduled for execution.
When they decide to rescue her, that, too, becomes a
complication.  Their subgoal -- and the story line --
changes from hiding out while Obi-wan disengages the tractor
beam, to trying to save Leia -- which leads to their
presence being detected, many battles and narrow escapes,
etc.

     Complications in E.T. occur when E.T. is stranded on
Earth -- that certainly complicates and changes his life
(and later, Elliott's).  Another complication occurs when
Elliott sees E.T.  And again when the boy takes the creature
into his home and room.  Then again when E.T. gets the idea
of "phoning home."  And when E.T. gets sick.  Then, having
learned that Elliott's home is harboring E.T., the
scientists take over the home, and apprehend the dying
alien.  All of these are significant bends or sharp turns in
the story.  They are events that create major changes in the
status quo.

     In CASABLANCA, when Rick accepts the Letters of Transit
from Ugarte, that becomes a complication when Ugarte is
killed.  When Ilsa shows up at the bar, that, indeed, is a
complication of major proportions.  It changes things, to
say the least.

     In THE WIZARD OF OZ, the tornado is a complication,
since it brings Dorothy to a new and magical land (and
she cannot readily return home).  The fact that she
inadvertently killed a witch's sister, who now wants Dorothy
dead for the sake of revenge and to acquire the Ruby
Slippers -- that, too, is certainly a complication.  It
changes and complicates Dorothy's situation and many of the
subsequent events.

     Another major complication occurs when the Wizard
refuses Dorothy's request, instead requiring that she first
obtain the broomstick from that same Wicked Witch.  A new
line of action then begins.

     In TITANIC, when Jack and Rose meet, it's a
complication.  Both their lives change as a result, and the
story as well.  Among other complications:  they fall in
love.  Her fiancé arranges to plant the necklace in Jack's
pocket.  And the iceberg is certainly more than just an
obstacle.  It's a super obstacle with powerful and lasting
after-effects.  Thus, it's a complication of the first
degree.

                 COMPLICATIONS AND REVERSALS

     Some complications are so significant, and cause such a
sharp turn in the action, that they become major turning
points in the story.  Sometimes even reversals.

     When the group of heroes are caught by the tractor beam
and dragged into the Death Star, that's a complication which
is also a reversal.  Mr. Miyagi's intervention, and the fact
he has advanced karate skills, is also a complication-
reversal.  The Wizard's initial refusal, and his requirement
to get the witch's broom is a complication plus reversal.
As is the iceberg which strikes the Titanic.

     These terms and principles can and sometimes do overlap.
Therefore, some obstacles are also complications.  Some
complications are also reversals.

     That's not always the case.  Some events are purely
obstacles.  Some are purely complications.  Most reversals,
however, by definition, are also complications as well -- a
particularly distinct and major complication with an
extremely sharp turn.

     Occasionally, an event can be all three:  an obstacle, a
complication, and a reversal, as with the iceberg.  The
Death Star, too, was initially an obstacle that they sought,
unsuccessfully, to avert and which then quickly develops
into both a complication and a reversal.

     It's important to understand the nature of all three,
and to use all three -- sometimes in their "pure" forms, and
sometimes in combination.

                      THE "FUSE FACTOR"

     Sometimes an event will turn out to be a complication,
but initially it doesn't seem to be so.  Or, looked at
another way, sometimes a complication will play out in two
or three beats, which can be slightly or widely separated in
time.

     For instance, when Rick accepts the Letters of Transit
from Ugarte, that will later turn out to be extremely
important and consequential.  But at the time, it's a minor
event -- not even an obstacle.  Later, however, when Ugarte
is killed, Rick's possession of these documents takes on
more significance.  And even more later on.

     Usually the nature of the complication is immediately,
or at least partially, apparent.  We see right off that the
path is changing as a result, and that this will complicate
things.  But not always.  Some complications have delayed
effects.  Part of the complicating event is established at
one point, and the larger part of it at some later point.

     In the case of a complication that originally appears to
be exclusively an obstacle, perhaps the time spent
overcoming the obstacle will later prove to be critical.

                           SUMMARY

     A complication results in a changed situation and a new
direction.

     Nearly all complications are unexpected.  Most are
undesirable, from the points of view of the characters who
experience them -- or at least initially so:  some unwanted,
troublesome complications later turn out to have hidden
opportunities within them, or to be blessings in disguise
... the proverbial silver lining in the storm cloud.

     A complication usually makes life more difficult, either
for the protagonist or an antagonist.  Sometimes for both.
By its very nature, a complication both changes and
complicates things for the characters.

     There are exceptions, however, to a character's view of
a complication.  Sometimes a complication is primarily, or
at least partially, positive.  And thus welcome.  At least
from the perspective of a particular character.  It may even
make a character's life easier or somehow better, rather
than more difficult -- at least at first.  A positive event
can nonetheless be a complication if it substantially
changes the story line.

     Both obstacles and complications are components of
conflict.  They exist in addition to the personal conflicts
generated by characters who disagree, compete with, or
oppose each other.

     When obstacles, complications, and interpersonal
conflicts work together, they can create a story rich with
variety, and one which provides curiosity, suspense, and
surprise.  And they create challenges that reveal character
and which sometimes promote character growth.

     A story with too few complications will be too linear
and too predictable.  It will probably be unsatisfying and
even boring.

     Now and then, throw us a curve.  Provide a significant
change-causing event.  Give us a wrinkle or a twist.
Introduce some new element -- a person, object, or event --
that takes us into a new direction.  In short, design some
complications which will create significant and lasting
changes in the plot.

                           #  #  #

Copyright 1999 by Jeff Newman

                  $99 SCREENPLAY EVALUATION

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                         BACK ISSUES

... of this e-newsletter can be seen by clicking on the
StoryNotesNewsletter 1 and the StoryNotesNewsletter 2 links
at http://storynotes.com ...

And there are also links to other online articles by Jeff
Newman (Hollywoodnet.com - 1 & 2) at the storynotes.com
site.

Enjoy!

StoryNotesNewsletter readers:

The "visual aid" regarding the
concept of Progressive Obstacles
didn't turn out well in the e-mail
version of the "Obstacles" article
-- and it's even worse in the
article as located at the on-site
"Most Recent Messages" section.

Luckily, a remedy is at hand.

If you would like to view the
illustration properly, go to ...

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter/messages/20?
expand=1

(Note: if the entire url isn't clickable, then copy and
paste starting at the end, so that the entire url, including
"20?expand=1" is intact.)

Scroll down to Message 29, Issue #24 ("Obstacles").  The
illustration is about 2/3 of the way through the article.

And by the way ...

Some time back, Yahoo changed their layout, with the result
that the earlier articles in the Separate Messages (Most
Recent Messages) part of the site are now formatted poorly
(lines with just a word or two on them alternating with full
lines, skipped lines, etc. -- very annoying!).

Once again, a remedy is available!

To view all of the articles in their original formats, go to
...

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter/messages/3?expand=1

... for the first set of articles, and ...

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter/messages/20?
expand=1

... for the continuation.

Jeff Newman

StoryNotesNewsletter #24

Give your interesting character
a strong desire to solve a tough
problem &/or achieve a difficult
goal ... add opposition or
competition, and then strew the
path with obstacles ... and
you're well on the way to
creating a solid story.

In this issue, we'll explore
"obstacles" -- what they are,
and why they are so helpful.

And ... if you might be interested
in a $99 evaluation of your
screenplay, check out the info at
the end of the article.


ISSUE #24


GENERATE INTEREST WITH


                      * * OBSTACLES * *


     Obstacles -- along with complications, reversals, and
revelations -- are one of the most valuable tools in the
storyteller's toolkit.  We don't like them much in real
life, but in stories, they're essential.

     An *obstacle* is something that blocks a character from
doing what he or she intended.  It stands in the way of a
goal.  This is true whether it's an immediate, fleeting
goal, a scene goal, a sequence or subgoal, or the overall
goal.  Anything -- or anyone -- that gets in the way of a
character can be considered an obstacle.

     Obstacles slow the character down (even if just
slightly) and require increased thought, time, and/or effort
in order to overcome the obstacle.

     In order to proceed toward the goal, the obstructed
character must bypass, scale, solve, go over, tunnel under,
go around, burrow through, blast apart, sweet talk,
persuade, deceive, eliminate, or smash through the obstacle.

     In short: even though they are often short-lived,
obstacles act as hurdles or barriers to a character's
intended course of action.  Thus, obstacles are a major
source of conflict for your screenplay.

     There are three basic types of obstacles:

     1.  Objects/things
     2.  Events or situations
     3.  People (or any kind of sentient being)

     Furthermore, obstacles can be short, intermediate, or
long-term in duration.  In addition, there are both foreseen
and unforeseen obstacles.

                           EXAMPLES

     Some obstacles pop up quickly and are disposed of,
overcome, or dodged just as quickly -- in just a few
seconds, or at most a minute or so.  These short-lived,
momentary obstacles might be as simple as garden tools on
the lawn, toys strewn on the stairs, or patches of ice on
the sidewalk.  Other short-term, object-oriented obstacles:
a car that makes someone sharply alter course to avoid
hitting it ... or a street that must be quickly crossed but
is jammed with traffic.  These "quickie" obstacles can add
zest to a scene or action which would be bland or lacking
energy if it unfolded without any such obstructions.

     Here are some more examples.

     A stuck or locked door that prevents easy access and
immediate entry, a detour sign and the road construction
beyond it that causes one to go around or to roughly barrel
through them, the blisters making it more difficult to pull
someone up on the rope, the shards of glass on the ground
that your barefoot character must cross, the fallen tree
blocking the path.  All of these are object-obstacles, of
the short-lived variety.  They are vital for making action
and scenes livelier and more unpredictable.

     Some object-obstacles could take longer to overcome --
several minutes, several scenes, even a whole sequence or
act.  For instance, a crippled plane blocks the only
available runway which is needed for an emergency landing.
A mountain stands in the way of an intended destination.  A
desert must be traversed.

     When obstacles take a long time to surmount, they are
usually not just obstacles, but *complications* as well.

     Some obstacles don't involve an object or a thing;
rather, an event or situation generates the obstacle.

     For instance:  not having money to pay for a vitally
needed commodity is a situational obstacle.  Or not having a
tool necessary to perform a critical task.  Other examples:
a jammed gun, or a malfunctioning weapons array or hyper
drive.  A car that runs out of gas, gets a flat tire, has a
burned-out alternator, or otherwise breaks down at an
inopportune time.  The message that wasn't received, or
which was intercepted.  The static on the phone line.  The
illness or lack of sleep that makes carrying out the plan or
accomplishing a subgoal more difficult.  The 911 number is
busy.

     Other situational obstacles:  a student wants to
achieve, but dyslexia, attention-deficit disorder, or some
other learning difficulty poses an obstacle -- or maybe it's
problems at home.

     An athlete's broken leg could be an obstacle to getting
that sports scholarship.  Or the coach is alcoholic, or just
burned out and apathetic, and his poor job performance
affects the team's ability to do well.  Or perhaps the
athlete has some kind of fear that is sabotaging his
performance.

     Desperately needing to communicate with someone, but
both parties speak different languages -- the language
barrier becomes an obstacle.

     So event-driven or *situational* obstacles can be just
as effective as object-obstacles.  Both should be employed.

     And people, too, can function as obstacles.  An
unsympathetic boss.  A clumsy waiter.  A clerk who won't
help.  A guard blocking the path of someone trying to
escape.  Or a guard stationed in front of the place you wish
to enter or cross without anyone seeing or knowing.  An
angry bully you bump into.  These would be examples of
short-term human obstacles.  Someone competing for the same
goal is a human obstacle of the long-term variety -- also
known as an adversary or an antagonist.

     By the way, obstacles aren't just for main character(s).
A screenplay will benefit if all the major characters --
including antagonists -- encounter obstacles.

     Some obstacles can be foreseen: the mountain or desert,
for example.  The security guard.  The fact that the loot is
in a safe.  So even if obstacles are anticipated, they can
be of value to a story, since they still create
difficulties.  Most, however, pop up unexpectedly, forcing
the characters to think and react quickly.

     And sometimes anticipated obstacles can still contain an
element of surprise:  it's a new or substitute security
guard with a different routine, or the safe combination has
been changed, or it's a new safe with a different mechanism
... or a storm strikes the mountain while we're climbing it,
and in addition, some gear is lost (situational obstacles).

     So obstacles can be objects (things, places, or
animals), they can be situational, or they can take the form
of persons who obstruct another character.  They can be
either anticipated or unforeseen (or a mixture of both).
And they can be over in a flash, or take several minutes or
longer to play out, depending on whether they are short-,
medium-, or long-term obstacles.

                     HOW THEY CONTRIBUTE

     Obstacles are valuable in a story for several reasons:

     1. Obstacles are realistic.
     2. Obstacles challenge the characters.
     3. Obstacles can reveal character.
     4. Obstacles add variety and unpredictability to the
        story.
     5. Obstacles can surprise the characters and the
        audience.
     6. Obstacles increase curiosity, tension, and suspense.

                     OBSTACLES & REALISM

     A smooth road or easy path can be wonderful in real
life, but actually, such a situation is rare.  Therefore,
such a course, if depicted in a story, is rather
unrealistic.

                 OBSTACLES CREATE CHALLENGES

     Obstacles, along with opposition and a difficult goal,
serve to *challenge* a character.  This is desirable for
several reasons.  It's not very compelling to watch
characters solve problems and achieve goals if they are able
to do so quickly and easily.  We also tend to identify and
sympathize with a character who is forced to sweat and
strain, hustle, endure pain, and to be mentally nimble.
Furthermore, a challenged but persistent character makes us
feel he or she deserves to succeed.  If there is a happy
ending, we'll feel the character has *earned* it.

                  OBSTACLES REVEAL CHARACTER

     Challenges -- which obstacles help provide -- also help
to *reveal* character.  By being willing to deal with
obstacles, characters demonstrate the strength of their
desire and determination.  Obstacles test a character's
resourcefulness.  They can even reveal modes of thinking,
priorities, and values.

     For instance, sometimes there's only one obvious or
rational way to traverse an obstacle.  If a character does
something different, that's quite telling.  And even if a
character does the logical, normal thing, that *still* is
revelatory.  It tells us that the goal is important to this
person.  It shows that he or she is persistent.

     And when there is no one way to deal with an obstacle,
then the manner is which an obstacle is overcome can be
highly revealing of character.  How resourceful or
imaginative is the character?  Are any values or until now
little-seen (or unseen) traits displayed in how the person
gets past the obstacle?  Also revealing is the person's
general reaction to a specific obstacle, or to the obstacles
in general.  The character may be stoic, angered, undaunted,
astonished, disheartened, or whiny.  It's possible the
character almost relishes the obstacle:  it may trigger an
adrenalin rush, or be a way to prove competence, to be
competitive.

     Thus, the attitude displayed as a result of the
obstacle, and the fashion in which it is overcome, can tell
us something -- sometimes a little, sometimes a lot -- about
the character.

                 OBSTACLES VS. PREDICTABILITY

     Obstacles also help prevent predictability.  If there
are too few obstacles, the events of the story will proceed
in an overly linear, overly predictable fashion.  Plans
would go too smoothly (no hitches).  Actions would proceed
as announced or intended.  It would all be too easy, too
flat, too ... predictable.  Obstacles are the fly in the
ointment.  The monkey wrench jamming the machinery.  The
thing that trips us up, or at least threatens to.  Obstacles
help keep the characters -- and the audience -- off balance.
We never know what is around the corner, what might happen
next, or how things will work out.  Predictability is poison
to a plot, and obstacles -- both large and small -- are one
of the antidotes.

                     OBSTACLES & SURPRISE

     Every time we defy expectations, every time we avoid the
predictable, we are creating at least a small surprise for
the audience.  And surprises are a key ingredient to
effective stories.  But a true "surprised reaction" goes
beyond unmet predictions and expectations:  it's a stronger
sensation, one which creates something of a jolt or shock
(pleasant or otherwise).  Surprise in a story can be
achieved by unforeseen actions of characters, by means of
revelations, through sudden reversals and unanticipated
complications ... and by significant, unexpected obstacles.

     Unforeseen obstacles, which by nature spring up
unexpectedly, afford at least a small (but still gratifying)
surprise.  Some -- ones that are potentially threatening and
which strike lightning-fast, or ones that are both
unexpected and especially formidable -- can be quite
surprising, indeed.

     And so obstacles, along with other story techniques, can
be used to generate surprises, both small and large, which
good stories thrive on.

               OBSTACLES & CURIOSITY, SUSPENSE

     Finally, obstacles add uncertainty, provoke curiosity,
and can create or augment suspense and tension.  Will the
character be able to deal with this obstacle?  Will the
character be willing to continue despite all the frequent
and continuing obstacles?  *How* will the character handle
*this* obstacle?  In this way, obstacles raise questions,
pique curiosity, and -- if we care about the character and
the central problem or goal -- they also raise the level of
our concern and make us wonder and worry as to whether the
character will get past the immediate obstacle and thus be
able to succeed.  In other words, they help create tension
and suspense.

                OBSTACLE RATIONALE -- SUMMARY

     So there are many reasons that obstacles contribute to a
story.  Their presence reflects reality (which is seldom
obstacle-free), they can both challenge and reveal
character, they help avoid linear, predictable actions and
events, they can help create surprises, and can stimulate
curiosity and raise the level of tension and suspense.

     Bottom line: a story with too few obstacles is boring.
And that's the cardinal sin for storytellers.

                    PROGRESSIVE OBSTACLES

     One last thing about obstacles:  if you use two or more
in close succession, generally they should be progressive in
nature.  That is, each hurdle or barrier in any group should
be higher, tougher, or more formidable than the last.
Otherwise, there's not as much suspense:  if we know someone
can jump a four-foot wall, what's the point of placing a
two-foot obstacle in their way a few moments later?  Reverse
the order.  Plus, there's just more tension when the "degree
of difficulty" increases, rather than decreases.


                                          #
                                         ##
                                          # #
                                         ####
                                       ####
                                 #     #  #
                                 #       ##
                          #     ##      ###
                    #     #     ##      ###
                ###############################

                    Progressive Obstacles


     If a diver performs a series of dives, and does all the
most difficult ones first, we're not going to be much
interested in the later, simpler dives.  The same holds true
with the various moves of a gymnast or an ice skater.  If
the simpler, easier moves come last, *after* the tough ones,
then those later, less-difficult ones wouldn't hold much
fascination.  They would provide little curiosity or
suspense.  And it would be anti-climactic.

     Let's apply this to a scene in a film.

     If someone's running away from a group of bullies, first
he might have to avert or push past a few bystanders.  Then
he might skid somewhat on a slippery floor.  Once outside,
he may have to dodge a car or two (harder to avoid than a
stationary person, and potentially more of a problem if he
fails).  Finally, he faces a high fence or wall, as the foes
bear down on him.  These are *progressive* obstacles.  If
the order were reversed, the later obstacles would be
ineffective.

     In short, when you have groupings of obstacles, start
with the easier ones, and make them higher or greater as
they continue.  Keep increasing the degree of difficulty.
Save the worst for last.

                           SUMMARY

     Obstacles interfere with a character's path, course of
action, plan, or goal.  They stand in the way of what a
character wants to do.  They can be fleeting and short-lived
-- sometimes they last only a minute, or even less: a few
seconds, or even just one second -- and then they're over.
Or they can take several minutes to overcome.  And sometimes
even longer: a whole sequence, act, or more.

     Obstacles can be objects (things or animals),
situations, or people (or beings).  Some are foreseen, but
most are unanticipated.

     Generally speaking, when you have two or more obstacles
in close proximity, they should be progressive.

     And regarding their rationale and purpose?  Obstacles
are just as important as opponents for generating
difficulty, and for challenging your characters.  Obstacles
demand something of a character: time, thought, and/or
effort.

     Obstacles provide variety and surprise.  They can create
or intensify tension and suspense.  And they can demonstrate
the talents and tenacity of the characters who encounter the
obstacles.  And sometimes much more:  their judgment, their
intelligence, the depth of their desire to achieve the goal,
and even their values can be revealed by how characters
react to obstacles, and how (or if) they overcome them.

     A screenplay without sufficient obstacles would be an
obstacle to character development -- and to audience
enjoyment.

                            # # #

Copyright 2003 by Jeff Newman

NOTE: Jeff Newman now offers a $99 evaluation in addition to
the other levels previously offered.  If what you are
looking for is a concise summary of the quality and
effectiveness of your screenplay and a discussion of its
main strengths and any major weaknesses or problems, then
you may benefit from the 8-page feedback (4 pages of written
analysis, and a 4-page checklist) that comes with this
evaluation option.

Supplementary articles (addressing any significant
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For more info: http://storynotes.com


NEXT ISSUE of this StoryNotesNewsletter: "Complications."

StoryNotesNewsletter #23

  This is the continuation and
  conclusion of the article begun
  in Issue #22.

  We left off noting that there are
  three types of reversals:
  (1) A Reversal of Expectations
  (2) A Reversal of Fortune
  (3) A Full-fledged Reversal of
      Situation


  ISSUE #23

  Part 2 (of 2)

                        * * REVERSALS * *

                     REVERSAL OF EXPECTATIONS

      A "Reversal of Expectations" simply means that the
  characters and/or the audience have a certain expectation as
  to how an event or plan will play out, or how someone will
  react to something -- but then, that expectation is not met.
  In fact, the reverse occurs.

      If we are surprised by the outcome of an event or by a
  reaction ... if what we anticipated does not occur ...
  that's an example of "Defied Expectations," which is a
  dramatically valuable -- indeed, vital -- technique.  This
  should happen quite frequently in a good story.  And if the
  outcome or reaction is not only different, but pretty much
  the opposite of what we anticipate, then the outcome is a
  *reversal* of our expectations.

      Some examples of reversed expectations:  Rather than
  being pleased with the surprise party, the man is furious.
  Instead of saying yes to her boyfriend's proposal, a woman
  says no (or slaps his face).

      Instead of yelling at his child as we expect, the father
  embraces her.  The ball is thrown in the air ... and doesn't
  come down.  The D student wins the spelling bee.

      Instead of cruising to an easy victory, the top-ranked
  team is defeated by the team with a long losing streak.
  Instead of disaster, a half-baked plan meets with success.

      The last two examples are reversals of expectations, but
  they're also something more.  They involve the second kind
  of reversal as well.

                       REVERSAL OF FORTUNE

      A "Reversal of Fortune" is a bit stronger.  If it's a
  plot-level Reversal of Fortune, it generally is accompanied
  by, or is the by-product of, a Turning Point.  There's a
  sharp and unexpected turn and a change in fortune.  This can
  happen in either of two ways:  from "good" to "bad," or from
  "bad" to "good."

      Regarding good to bad:  we were making progress toward
  the goal, and now, suddenly and unexpectedly, there's a
  setback and we're moving away from achievement of the goal.

      For instance, Dorothy and company finally get to see the
  Wizard -- but then, rather than being granted their wishes,
  they are told that they must find and bring back the
  broomstick of the Wicked Witch.  That's a definite good-to-
  bad change in fortune.  It's sudden and severe.

      Or, the unexpected change of fortune can go the other
  way, from bad to good:  we were in a period of moving away
  from the goal, and headed toward defeat or disaster, but
  then something happens to turn things around and now we're
  back on track once more, once again making progress toward
  the goal.

      At the scene level, this can be seen when, on the
  outskirts of the Emerald City, Dorothy and the Lion fall
  asleep on the field of poppies.  Then, a positive reversal:
  Glinda makes it snow.  They awaken, and moments later arrive
  at their destination.  Another "OZ" positive Reversal of
  Fortune: after they are forbidden to see the Wizard, Dorothy
  cries.  The guard softens, and lets them in.

      By the way, that's an example of two scene reversals
  cancelling each other out -- the plot as a whole remains
  unaffected.  The guard says "No Admittance," which is a
  negative scene/sequence reversal ... and then a scene later,
  the guard, touched by Dorothy's tears, says yes.  In effect,
  we're back to where we were prior to the negative reversal
  -- no overall plot change.  But meanwhile:  good drama.
  Surprises are encountered.  Emotions are whipsawed.  The
  plot -- for a time -- changes course.  We get some good
  conflict.  Suspense.  Variety.  So that's why they are
  there, and others like them.

      Reversals of Fortune can take place at the scene and/or
  sequence level, or at the overall plot level.  The bigger
  Reversals of Fortune -- the ones that affect large sections
  of the plot that follows, such as when the Wizard turns down
  their requests, and demands they first bring back the
  witch's broomstick -- are plot reversals.

      Some scene-level reversals of fortune are less drastic
  than the "OZ" examples mentioned here.  A scene can have a
  "positive flow" from the point of view of the main character
  -- regarding the character's scene goal and/or plan -- and
  then something happens and now things are moving away from
  the scene and/or overall goal.  Or vice versa:  things go
  from short-term bad to short-term good.  Sometimes it's as
  simple as that.

      Reversals of Expectation and Reversals of Fortune (which
  usually also involve Reversals of Expectation) are the two
  most-used forms of reversals.  As we've seen, they can be
  effective at the scene, sequence, and plot levels.  And most
  plots need at least three plot-level Reversals of Fortune in
  order to be effective.

                FULL-FLEDGED REVERSAL OF SITUATION

      A "Full-fledged Reversal" is the most powerful type of
  reversal.  It includes both of the first two types:  it
  involves a reversal of expectations AND a change in fortune.
  But there's another element as well -- one that makes for an
  even stronger reversal.

      With this kind of "classic" reversal, we experience a
  total change of situation to the opposite state of affairs.
  It's a complete and neat "tables turning" situation.  It's a
  180 degree turn.  It's a quick, unexpected switch to the
  mirror-image (i.e., reverse) state of affairs.

      This could be a change from Person or Group A as pursuer
  of Person or Group B (the pursued) to the reverse situation:
  Now B pursues A.  This pursuit could involve a physical
  chase, hunt, or search, or, perhaps, a romantic pursuit.

      A Full Reversal of Situation can happen at the scene
  level or the plot level.  The earlier example of the sudden
  switch from the thug holding a gun on the detective who then
  quickly disarms the person and grabs the gun is an example
  of a full-fledged reversal, since now the situation is
  exactly reversed.  And it would probably be a short-term,
  scene-level reversal, not a major reversal of the overall
  plot.

      For an example of a Full-fledged Reversal of Situation
  that is also a plot reversal -- a reversal-plus-Turning
  Point -- let's return to THE WIZARD OF OZ.

      When the witch is about to kill Dorothy and the others,
  she starts with the scarecrow, setting him on fire.  All is
  lost.  She has the upper hand, they are about to die; the
  scarecrow is in the process of being destroyed.  A bucket of
  water thrown by Dorothy creates a full reversal.  Now it is
  the witch who is dying.

      So a Full-fledged Reversal of Situation can involve
  small reversals that only affect a particular scene, or they
  can be huge Turning Point, plot-changing reversals.

                     OTHER REVERSAL EXAMPLES

      Not all reversals can be neatly categorized.  Often,
  they contain elements of more than one type of reversal.
  Other times, a situation may suddenly change to *nearly* the
  opposite state of affairs, but not the *exact* or mirror-
  image opposite.  It's a reverse in the general nature of the
  situation, but not a precise "tables turning."  And that's
  fine.  Whatever works.  If it's effective, appropriate to
  the story, and helpful -- then use it.

      Here's an example from STAR WARS.  It's an example of a
  major plot reversal that includes but goes beyond a Reversal
  of Fortune, incorporating as well a Reversal of Situation --
  but not quite to the mirror opposite, tables-turned
  standard.  It may or may not be a "Full-Fledged, Tables-
  Turned" reversal, but no matter:  it's a major plot reversal
  that is startling and compelling.  In terms of their
  *general* situation, it's a real "180."

      Luke, Han, Chewbacca, and Obi-wan blast off from
  Tatooine and manage to escape the Empire fighters.  Now they
  are free and safe.  Moments later they arrive at their
  destination, Alderaan.  But:  no Alderaan!  Moments before,
  it was blasted to bits.  And:  an immense Imperial Death
  Star comes into view ... and it draws them into it with a
  tractor beam.

      This development -- the Midpoint of the movie --
  involves a reversal of expectations and a strong reversal of
  fortune, and comes pretty close to being a full-fledged
  reversal to the opposite state of affairs.  Certainly their
  general situation has fully reversed:  safety and freedom to
  danger and entrapment; being on the brink of achieving the
  goal to being about as far away from achieving it as they
  could get.

      And certainly, this is a development that changes the
  course of events:  the next 30 minutes of the film deal with
  saving the princess, who is also aboard, and getting off and
  away from the Death Star.

      All in all, it's a wonderful reversal.

                             SUMMARY

      Reversals are a great way to achieve surprise and
  variety.

      One can have scene reversals, or plot reversals.  And
  when you have a sequence, there may be a sequence reversal
  of one sort or another, too.

      A reversal can involve a reversal of expectations.
  These expectations can be regarding someone's anticipated
  reaction or the outcome of an action.

      Or it can be a reversal of fortune:  a change of luck,
  or a sharp shift in one's moving toward or away from the
  goal.

      Finally, it can be a Full Reversal of Situation:  a 180
  degree turnabout ... a sharp turn to the opposite state of
  affairs.  This can be in terms of the general situation, or
  even a turned-tables, mirror-image reversal to the precisely
  opposite situation.

      By all means, avoid a linear and overly predictable
  plot.  Create false expectations, and then defy them.  Steer
  a course, and then surprise us.  Sometimes with an obstacle
  or a complication.  But sometimes with something even
  sharper and more unexpected:  an out-and-out reversal.

      Think about your list of often-seen movies and try to
  remember examples of both scene- and plot-level reversals.
  Try to come up with examples of all three types:  reversals
  of expectations, fortune, and situation.  Better yet,
  rewatch those five movies, concentrating on discovering all
  the levels and types of reversals discussed here.

      Also ...

      Look over your last screenplay, or the one you have in
  progress.  Do many of the scenes contain a reversal of one
  sort or another which changes the expected course of the
  scene?  And are there any major, plot-changing reversals?
  Which of the three types are utilized?  Could or should
  there be more reversals?

      They've been around since the time of Aristotle, who
  called them "peripeties."  Shakespeare employed them.  So
  did O'Neill, Miller, Williams, and Albee.  And you'll see
  them in the films of Spielberg, Lucas, Coppola, and many
  others.  Reversals worked for them, and they will work for
  you, too.

                             #  #  #

  Copyright 1999-2002 by Jeff Newman

                       * * DISCOUNT * *

  For subscribers to this (free) e-newsletter, or for posters
  on mws newsgroup (misc.writing.screenplays) or the "Done
  Deal" message board, rather than the standard rates of $400,
  $600, or $1,000, you may receive these same evaluations for
  $300, $500, or $900, effective through 12/31/02.

  If you do not have a screenplay quite ready to send out, you
  can send the check now to hold your place on the script
  pile, and to qualify for the discount.  If your script is
  still not ready when its turn comes up, your letter will
  remain at the top of the pile and your script will be the
  next one read whenever it does come in.

  Turnaround time is generally 4 weeks from the time payment
  is received.

  Go to http://storynotes.com for details about the evaluation
  service.

  Jeff Newman
  storynotes@...


  To read past articles ...


  For Issues 1-15:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter/messages/3?expand=1

  (Be sure "expand=1" is included with the url; it's best to
  highlight/select starting from the end of the above url,
  then copy and paste.)

  For Issues 16-21:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter/messages/20?
expand=1

  (See above parenthetical note.)

  Jeff Newman, StoryNotes
  e-mail: storynotes@...
  http://storynotes.com

StoryNotesNewsletter #22

  A reversal is a dramatic device
  that goes back to the time of the
  Ancient Greeks.  In stories with
  mainstream or traditional
  structure, it's recommended we
  have at least three major
  reversals.

  But just what *is* a reversal?

  We'll discuss the definition and
  uses of reversals -- citing some
  examples -- in this article.

  But first:

  If you're thinking about obtaining
  a screenplay evaluation, there's
  only one week left to qualify for
  the discount (see the info at the
  end of this article).

  And now ...


  ISSUE #22


  Make Sure Your Plot Has Several


                        * * REVERSALS * *


      A reversal is a plot device in which we're led to expect
  one thing, and the opposite -- or pretty close to the
  opposite -- occurs instead.  This can involve a minor matter
  within the course of a scene ... or it can be a huge, plot-
  changing event.

      Reversals are more than just defied expectations --
  which is also a dramatically useful technique.  With a
  reversal, our expectations go beyond not being met:  the
  reverse happens, or nearly the reverse.  It's not just a
  different result or outcome than was anticipated -- that
  should happen quite frequently in a good script.  Rather,
  it's in some way the *opposite* outcome.

      In short, a reversal is an action, event, or verbal
  statement that creates an opposite or nearly opposite result
  than was anticipated by the audience and/or the characters.

      This "opposite outcome" can be in regard to an
  anticipated reaction to something a character does or says.
  For instance, a character makes a joking remark.  He and we
  anticipate a smile or a laugh from the other character.
  Instead, the other character bursts into tears.

      The "opposite outcome" could also be in reference to the
  situation.  The boss intends to fire an employee.  When
  starting to do so, the employee discloses knowledge about
  something embarrassing or illegal, and hints at blackmail.
  The employee walks out not with a pink slip, but a raise.

      Other examples of situational reversals:  Kidnappers nab
  the wife of a rich man and threaten to kill her if he
  doesn't pay a ransom.  But he's delighted -- and urges them
  to go ahead!  A thug pulls a gun on a detective, who quick-as-
  lightning grabs the gun away and now points it at the thug.

      A larcenous producer learns he can make more money, due
  to a tax shelter, by having a flop play which loses money --
  if he illegally and secretly overinvests.  So he puts on a
  play so bad it's guaranteed to flop.  But the audience
  thinks it's camp -- and loves it.

      The "kidnapping" and "producer's scheme" situations are
  examples of plot-changing situational reversals.  The "grabs
  the gun away" situation would probably be a scene-changing
  situational reversal, but not a plot-changing one.  Still,
  it's a reversal.

      When you, the writer, lead the audience to expect a
  certain outcome, but then the opposite or nearly the
  opposite occurs instead ... that's a reversal.

      Since reversals can be so helpful to a script's
  effectiveness, let's explore them in greater depth.

                      THE USES OF REVERSALS

      What good are reversals?  Why do most scripts benefit
  from three or more major, plot-altering reversals, and a
  number of smaller scene reversals?

      Reversals are one way to achieve surprise -- and
  audiences love to be surprised.  Who would want to watch a
  movie that was predictable from beginning to end?  Surprise
  is a key arrow in the dramatic quiver.

      Reversals are also a way to create more variety in the
  story.  Reversals tend to generate new complications, and
  usually a changed state of affairs.  For instance, a major
  reversal will create the need for new plans.  Perhaps a new
  task or subgoal as well.

      While there are some stories that don't contain a plot-
  changing reversal of *situation*, few if any films have
  achieved audience acceptance unless they have at least three
  reversals of *fortune*.

      Let's examine why that is so.

      Let's say a story starts out where the status quo is
  "mixed" -- in some ways good, and in some ways bad in terms
  of the main character(s).  If there's no change in this, the
  audience grows restless.  It's static.  There's no sense of
  story advancement.  There's insufficient variety in terms of
  story direction and emotions.

      It would be just as dramatically weak for a story to
  start out with things going well, and then they stay that
  way.  Or with things going poorly, and they stay that way
  until the end.

      Adding a major reversal of fortune helps.  But one or
  two aren't enough!

      If an event occurs which makes things worse (a Big
  Problem -- 1st reversal), and that continues for a long
  time, except for minor upticks ... after a while, this
  situation again lacks interest and variety.  But if things
  turn around, and now are good (2nd reversal), until the end
  ... that's better, but still not enough to seem like a
  story.

      In other words, a "story" where "things get bad, and
  then they get good -- the end" seems like half a story.
  It's a "V."

      And an upside-down "V" isn't any better:  "things get
  good, and then they get bad -- the end."  That, too, is half
  a story.

      If things are mixed or good at the beginning, then bad
  (1st reversal), then good (2nd reversal) for a time, and
  then bad again (3rd reversal -- unhappy ending) ... that has
  the variety and fullness needed for a story.

      The same can be said with going from a mixed or bad
  opening state of affairs, to a positive turnaround (1st
  reversal) whose effects last for a time, then bad (2nd
  reversal), then good again (3rd reversal -- happy ending).
  That, too, seems like a story.

      And often you have not three but four or more major
  reversals of fortune.

      But none?  Or one -- good to bad, or bad to good -- and
  that's it? Or even two -- from good to bad, then bad to good
  ... or from bad to good, then good to bad?  This would seem
  too thin, too uneventful, too linear, too unvaried -- too
  boring.

      By having at least three major reversals of fortune, you
  have a plot with richness, variety, and less predictability.

      So the basic options are:


      AT OPENING > 1st REVERSAL > 2nd REVERSAL > 3rd REVERSAL

      bad or mixed > to good > to bad > to good (up ending)

      or

      good or mixed > to bad > to good > to bad (down ending)


      And you could add a fourth or fifth reversal of fortune
  to either of these.  And, just as the beginning can be
  "mixed," so can the end be in some way mixed or bittersweet.

      One additional option:  no strong, clear-cut major
  reversals of fortune, but frequent smaller reversals every
  scene or every couple of scenes or so.  In other words,
  there are no overall sections of "things are going basically
  well, allowing for difficulties and obstacles, etc.," and
  also no major sections of "things are going poorly, except
  for a few brief, minor successes."

      Instead, it's neither good nor bad, overall, for any
  length of time beyond a scene or two.  Just up, down, good,
  bad, progress, setback, progress, setback, etc.

      That's better than no major reversals -- or just one or
  two, with overly long periods of "mostly good" or "mostly
  bad."

      But the lack of any overall sense of things being
  largely positive or negative beyond a scene or two can make
  things seem almost linear ... all the minor and frequent
  upticks and downticks start to flatten out, to lose their
  power.  It's like sailing on a mildly choppy sea.  That's
  more interesting than a flat sea, but not as good
  (dramatically speaking) as a sometimes smooth, sometimes
  choppy sea which is interspersed several times with some
  immense waves.

      It's best to have many minor positive and negative
  events within several sections that are overall positive or
  negative -- in terms of progress towards the goal, or the
  main character's perspective.  That way we can sustain and
  even intensify feelings of hope, despair, joy, tension, etc.

                     SCENE VS. PLOT REVERSALS

      There are three levels of reversals.  There are "scene
  reversals," "sequence reversals," and "plot reversals."

      A scene reversal is a reversal within a scene, but which
  does not necessarily alter the story.  It's a development
  within a scene that generates surprise in the form of a
  reversal of expectations, of fortune, or of the situation
  within that scene.  It may take the form of an obstacle or a
  short-lived complication.  Or of an unexpected action or
  reaction.  But it doesn't have long-term consequences.  It
  affects and serves the scene, but its effects do not lead to
  great change in what happens after the scene.  The goal, the
  course of action, and the plan are still the same, or
  basically the same.

      An example of a scene reversal?

      In KARATE KID, Daniel has been roughed up and taunted by
  a bigger guy with lots of karate moves.  Daniel wants to
  take karate lessons so he won't be picked on and humiliated
  again.  He goes to the only dojo in the area to sign up.  As
  he observes, the instructor lets one of his students lead
  the class for a while.  And it turns out to be ... the
  bully.

      That's a good scene reversal.  It doesn't have plot-
  altering consequences, really.  At the beginning of the
  scene, Daniel doesn't know much karate, but wants to.  At
  the end of the scene, that's still the case.  But this
  "intra-scene" reversal made for a delicious surprise within
  the scene.

      This was a great way to provide a reason for his not
  simply taking lessons at the local dojo.  Bad writing:  the
  mom tells him they can't afford it.  Good writing:  the
  scene as described above.  The obstacle is provided in a way
  that is plausible, fun, and effective by taking the form of
  a scene reversal.

      Another example of a scene reversal would be a detective
  interviewing a suspect, but the suspect is so beautiful and
  skillful that she takes command of the interview.  She asks
  more questions of him -- and gets the answers -- than he
  does of her.  Assuming that he leaves with no more idea than
  before as to the guilty party, this scene doesn't change the
  plot that follows.  But it's a good "scene" reversal -- a
  nice role-reversal.  A reversal of expectations.

      That's an example of a scene reversal which is based on
  a reversal of control.  In some scenes, one character
  "drives" the scene.  That is, a particular character is in
  control of the scene -- setting the agenda, pursuing his or
  her desired scene goal, etc.  If that "switches" at some
  point, and another character assumes control of the scene,
  and is now "driving" it -- that, too, can be a form of a
  scene reversal.

      A "plot reversal" is a scene reversal with giant and
  long-lasting consequences.  It's a reversal which is also a
  plot-changing event.  It's a reversal combined with a
  turning point.  And it's quite powerful dramatically.

      In KARATE KID, about 20 minutes after the scene reversal
  mentioned earlier, there's a strong plot reversal.  Daniel
  rashly plays a prank on Johnny (the bully) at the school's
  Halloween dance.  Enraged, Johnny and his buddies chase
  Daniel all the way to the apartment complex where he lives.
  There they catch him and proceed to pummel him.  He's badly
  hurt, but Johnny won't stop, and just as Johnny is about to
  deliver a kick that would likely result in severe injury ...
  the short, dumpy apartment-maintenance guy jumps down and
  swiftly overcomes all four of the attackers -- one of whom
  was last year's regional karate champion.

      Daniel was down, and about to receive a hospital-
  requiring blow.  When Mr. Miyagi enters, it reverses the
  expectation of that scene.  It's also a reversal of what we
  and Daniel think of Miyagi:  an eccentric, pleasant,
  harmless guy.  Kind of old and pudgy.  But now we see he's
  brave and, when he wants to be, an effective man of action,
  one who knows karate so well he subdues all those guys.  And
  ... in the scene after, he agrees to be Daniel's mentor, to
  tutor the boy in karate.

      So this is not just a scene reversal, but a plot
  reversal as well.

      In between scene and plot reversals are sequence
  reversals.  Sometimes there are three or more scenes that
  make up a sequence, in which a subgoal is being pursued,
  and/or a plan is unfolding, or an overall action (escaping,
  searching, etc.) is in effect.  Sometimes there will be a
  reversal within that sequence.  Often sequence reversals
  function like scene reversals:  there is some effect on the
  overall plot, but not to the degree of creating a plot
  reversal or even a major turning point in the plot.  If the
  sequence reversal does, indeed, create a reversal in the
  overall plot ... then it's not just a sequence reversal, but
  a plot reversal as well.

      So there are three levels of reversals:  scene,
  sequence, and plot reversals.  But just as there are levels
  of reversals, so too are there various *types* of reversals.
  And again, the magic number is three.

      "Three" is the operative number for reversals, it seems.
  We need three (or more) major, plot-changing reversals per
  story ... there are three levels of reversals (scene,
  sequence, and overall plot) ... and there are three *types*
  of reversals.

      The three types of reversals are:

 	 1.  A Reversal of Expectations.
 	 2.  A Reversal of Fortune.
 	 3.  A Full-fledged Reversal of Situation.


  (End of Issue 22;
   TO BE CONTINUED with Issue #23.)

StoryNotesNewsletter #21

  Due to "popular demand" --
  having been asked many
  times, and seeing the
  question posed on many a
  newsgroup or message board
  -- we shall now take a light-
  hearted look at the several
  ways a phone conversation can
  be dramatized ... and how to
  format them.

  But first: if you're thinking
  about obtaining a screenplay
  evaluation, see the info (and
  the discount) at the end of
  this article.


  ISSUE #21

                * * FORMATTING PHONE CALLS * *

  How does one use the "Intercut" technique -- for phone
  calls, or for other situations?  And what are the other
  options for phone calls?

  We will now look at *all* the various ways a screenwriter
  can enact phone conversations -- and we'll see how they are
  formatted.

                 5 WAYS TO FORMAT PHONE CALLS

  There are five ways a phone call can be handled in a
  screenplay..


  1.  We see and hear one person, but we don't see or hear
      the other.

  2.  We see and hear one person, but only hear the other.

  3.  We see and hear both, alternating between the two,
      using a slug line each time.  This is best for short
      conversations.

  4.  We use the "Intercut" technique, and let the director
      and/or editor decide who we'll see when.

  5.  Split Screen (rarely used, but an option).


  Four of the five techniques are illustrated in a scene
  below.

  The one technique not shown:

  For short phone conversations, one can just keep
  alternating the sluglines, so first we are at INT. JACK'S
  STUDY - DAY, and then at EXT. BEACH - DAY (SAME), then
  INT. JACK'S STUDY [no need to re-establish "DAY"], then
  EXT. BEACH again.

  If the phone call is long enough to require more "back and
  forths" than that, chances are one should go with one
  of the four options discussed -- and demonstrated! --
  below, such as the "INTERCUT" option.

  And now ...

  Five Ways to Format a Phone Call!

  NOTE: If you are viewing this online at Yahoo's
  StoryNotesNewsletter site in the "individual message" mode,
  then the formatting that follows will be incorrect!
  To see it correctly laid out, go to:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter/messages/20?
expand=1

  (Be sure to include the "expand=1" in the url.)

  Then scroll down to Message 26, Issue 21: "Formatting Phone
  Calls."

  And now, this time for real ...

  Five Ways to Format a Phone Call!



   INT. JACK'S STUDY - DAY

   Jack paces, his cordless phone plastered to his ear.

                            JACK
             Sounds good, but where do I write
             "Intercut"?

   EXT. BEACH - SAME

   Herbie luxuriates on a lounge chair.  Cell phone in play.

                            HERBIE
             After you've established both
             scenes.  Then after that, just
             write the scene as though they're
             in the same place.

   INTERCUT Jack and Herbie.

                            JACK
             All right, that's simple.  But how
             do I end it?

                            HERBIE
             If the scene ends, just go to your
             next scene.  To the new slugline.

                            JACK
             But Herbie -- what if the scene
             *doesn't* end?  What if one of 'em
             hangs up and the other keeps
             talking?

   Herbie is distracted by a young couple slathering each
   other with oil.

                            HERBIE
             Gotta go, Jack.

   Herbie clicks off.

   END INTERCUT.

   Jack reads the above line of scene description and sighs,
   relieved.  Then punches a number.

                            HERBIE (V.O.)
             Yeah?

                            JACK
             Herb, I forgot to ask.  If we don't
             want to see the other person --
             just hear them -- do we write a
             name slug extension of "V.O." or
             "O.S."?  Voice Over or Off Screen?

                            HERBIE (V.O)
             I know what the terms mean.

                            JACK
             That was for the benefit of the
             audience.  Or for any newbies
             reading this.  I'm a considerate
             guy, Herbie.  So is it "O.S.," or
             "V.O."?

                            HERBIE (V.O.)
             If I'm in the next room talking to
             you... or in the same room, but out
             of camera range, it's "O.S."

                            JACK
             No, you're somewhere else.  And
             over the phone.  Just like right
             now.

                            HERBIE (V.O.)
             Then use "V.O."  As in a "voice over
             the phone."  Now goodbye!

   Click.  Jack seems nearly happy.  Then punches "redial."

                            JACK
             Herb, I forgot to ask --
                    (holds the phone away)
             Gee... don't gotta yell.  I just --
                    (beat)
             I don't think that's physically
             possible, Herb.
                    (listens)
             Herb, I'm just gonna leave you
             alone a while.  Bye.

   He hangs up.

                            JACK
             Talk about rude.

   He stares at the phone.  Tries to resist.  It's a great
   cinematic moment of inner conflict.  Reaches, pulls back.
   Again.

   Finally... his finger quivers over the "REDIAL" button.
   And... pushes it!

   EXT. BEACH - SAME

   Herbie, now getting his back oiled by a young lovely.
   Hears the phone.  Shakes his head.  Couldn't be.  Clicks
   "on."

   SPLIT SCREEN - JACK'S STUDY AND BEACH

                            JACK
             Herbie...

   Herbie rises to his feet, unwittingly knocking the poor
   woman back.

                            HERBIE
             You got a screw loose or somethin'?
             I swear I'm gonna come over there
             and stuff a formatting book down
             your throat!

                            JACK
             I've checked those books.  This
             stuff wasn't covered.  Now...
             before you hang up...

                            HERBIE
             You're the one with hang-ups!

                            JACK
             We've... we've covered four ways
             to handle phone calls.  One person
             talking and we can't hear the other,
             interspersed with parentheticals
             like "beat," "listens," and stuff.

   Herbie is punching a pillow.

                            HERBIE
             I remember; I was there!

                            JACK
             And then the old "V.O" method --
             not "O.S." -- see, I remembered,
             Herbie!

   Herbie's starting to whimper.

                            JACK
             And of course the classic "Intercut"
             technique.  And finally...

                            HERBIE
             I love the sound of that word...!

                            JACK
             The "split screen" technique,
             formatted very similarly to how we
             do "Intercut."  But you know, if
             the scene *started* with the split
             screen... then...  Herbie?

   Herbie replies dully.  A beaten man.

                            HERBIE
             You just precede the two scene
             headings with SPLIT SCREEN: along
             the left, and then below it, one
             atop the other, write the two slug
             lines.  Or on the same line if
             they're short, separated by a
             slash.

                            JACK
             But I imagine that's a technique
             that should be used very rarely.

                            HERBIE
             Now I want ya to imagine somethin'
             else!

                            JACK
             So four ways to format a phone
             call, Herbie?  Huh?  Herbie?

   Herbie knows he shouldn't say it... but...

                            HERBIE
             If you want to see both parties...

                            JACK
             Sounds like a party over there,
             Herbie.  I hear people having fun.

                            HERBIE
             Yeah well I ain't one of 'em.
             Anyways, if you want to see both
             parties, but it's a short phone
             call, then "Intercut" isn't worth
             it.

                            JACK
                     (starts to panic)
             Well then... what...?

                            HERBIE
             In that case, just put new
             sluglines two or three times.  If
             it's more than, oh, say, four times,
             then intercut instead.  Otherwise
             just write the old sluglines.  You
             can omit the "Day" and "Night" in a
             situation like that.

                            JACK
             So five ways to format a phone
             call!  Herbie, how can I ever thank
             you?

                            HERBIE
             In your next script, don't have so
             many friggin' phone calls.  No one
             wants to watch two people gab on
             the phone all the time!

   END SPLIT SCREEN.

   Jack sets the phone down on the desk.  Pushes it away.
   Sits.  A look of almost beatific peace.  Then...

   A troubling thought.  He sits up, disturbed.

                            JACK
             What about the montage sequence
             coming up?

   He grabs the phone.  And... yes... hits "redial."

                            JACK
             Herbie?


   INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

   Beneath the bandages, Jack's face can -- barely -- be
   discerned.

                            JACK
                     (muffled)
             Who *wrote* that damn scene?


  Jeff Newman, StoryNotes
  http://storynotes.com

                           #   #   #

  Copyright 2002 by Jeff Newman
  All Rights Reserved

                       * * DISCOUNT * *

  For subscribers to this (free) e-newsletter, or for posters
  on mws newsgroup (misc.writing.screenplays) or the "Done
  Deal" message board, rather than the standard rates of $400,
  $600, or $1,000, you may receive these same evaluations for
  $300, $500, or $900, effective through 12/31/02.

  If you do not have a screenplay quite ready to send out, you
  can send the check now to hold your place on the script
  pile, and to qualify for the discount.  If your script is
  still not ready when its turn comes up, your letter will
  remain at the top of the pile and your script will be the
  next one read whenever it does come in.

  Turnaround time is generally 4 weeks from the time payment
  is received.

  Go to http://storynotes.com for details about the evaluation
  service.

  Jeff Newman
  storynotes@...


  To read past articles ...


  For Issues 1-15:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter/messages/3?expand=1

  (Be sure "expand=1" is included with the url; it's best to
  highlight/select starting from the end of the above url,
  then copy and paste.)

  For Issues 16-20:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter/messages/20?
expand=1

  (See above parenthetical note.)

  Due to a Yahoo Groups error, some newsletter subscribers
  did not receive the last two issues, sent out over the last
  two weeks: "Premises, Premises" and "The Hook."  If you
  didn't receive them, they can be viewed by clicking the
  second link above, and scrolling down.

  Jeff Newman, StoryNotes
  e-mail: storynotes@...
  http://storynotes.com

StoryNotesNewsletter #20


  Before we begin the
  article...

  For those interested in
  receiving a StoryNotes
  Screenplay Evaluation,
  check out the price
  discount at the end of
  article, effective thru
  12-31-02.

  And now ...

  Having not one, but two
  hooks enhances your chances
  of selling your screenplay.
  So ...



           * * * GIVE US THE HOOK — TWO OF THEM * * *


      "Hook" has two related meanings in screenwriting.

      In both cases, the term refers to hooking our interest.
  Screenplays benefit by having two types of hooks.  The most
  important one is the Story Hook.  The other (also important,
  but not *as* important) is the Initial Hook.

                        #1 -- STORY HOOK

      What is the "Story Hook"?  It's that aspect of your main
  idea — your concept — that is in some way distinctive,
  unusual, fascinating, appealing, or compelling.

      Here are three concepts that have no story hook to them:

      "Several middle-aged friends go to a funeral for an old
  college friend of theirs.  Afterwards, they get together to
  reminisce about him and the 'good old days,' and to ponder
  how their lives went off course."

      "Two married couples discuss the strengths and
  weaknesses of their marriages and their family problems.
  Conflicts between them come to the surface; some of them are
  resolved through honest communication.  By the end, it's
  possible that some of their problems, by being better
  understood, may wind up being solved."

      "A woman sues for divorce, but her husband fights her in
  court."

      The first two seem lacking in focus and direction.  We
  sense no central problem and/or central goal.  They both
  seem to be nothing more than a group of people sitting (and
  maybe standing) around talking.  Sometimes arguing.

      So what?!  It's too unfocused, too meandering.  And too
  mundane.  Ordinary.  There's nothing special, nothing
  tantalizing or promising here.  In the hands of a gifted
  writer, it could wind up being quite good.  But it would be
  difficult getting anyone to agree to read a script with that
  sort of logline (unless the author was already well-
  established).  And if it were made — even with stars in the
  leading roles — it would not be a logline (or concept) that
  would stimulate many people to go see it.  It would need
  fantastic reviews to compensate.

      The third idea does indicate a central issue and a
  central conflict, and implies a main goal (she wants a
  divorce, he wants to stop her from divorcing him).

      But ... there's still no Story Hook.  The courts are
  clogged with contested divorces; this kind of situation
  happens every day.  There's nothing distinct, nothing
  different.  It doesn't intrigue us.  In the hands of a
  gifted writer, it might end up being good, but it doesn't
  *promise* to be good.

      Without a Story Hook, someone reading or hearing the
  concept might say, at best, "Well, it *might* wind up being
  good, if it's written really well, but it just doesn't sound
  all that inviting."

      A Story Hook is some angle to the concept that gives it
  some pizzazz, some glitter, some sizzle.

      For instance, in KRAMER VS. KRAMER, the somewhat
  intriguing hook was that the wife walked out, abruptly —
  leaving her husband to care for their young son.  Then, once
  the man has become a better person and a good father, she
  comes back, months later, and sues for custody.

      That turns what could have been an ordinary custody
  story into something that sounds a good deal more
  fascinating.

      So Story Hook doesn't necessarily mean a "high-concept"
  idea, such as FATAL ATTRACTION, AIR FORCE ONE, SPLASH, BIG,
  HOME ALONE, or HONEY, I SHRUNK THE KIDS.  Although those and
  other high-concept movies certainly do have strong and
  distinctive Story Hooks.

      But a Story Hook can include films like the
  aforementioned KRAMER VS. KRAMER, and others such as
  ORDINARY PEOPLE, SHINE, GOOD WILL HUNTING, WITNESS, SLING
  BLADE, JERRY MAGUIRE, A BEAUTIFUL MIND, and A STREETCAR
  NAMED DESIRE.

      None of those films are about common, ordinary
  circumstances.  There is something intriguing about each of
  those concepts.  They clearly demonstrate dramatic
  potential.  They are all news- and/or gossip-worthy events.

      For instance, GOOD WILL HUNTING isn't about just some
  troubled young man struggling to grow up.  He's also a
  janitor at M.I.T. — who turns out to be a genius.  He's
  smarter than most of the students there, and many of the
  professors.

      The boarder that the mother and son take into their home
  in SLING BLADE isn't just a friendly and quirky man.  He's
  also distinctly slow, extremely good-hearted and loyal to
  the boy — and a murderer recently released from the
  psychiatric hospital.

      Several of the above-mentioned films feature an
  extraordinary or at least an uncommon individual.  The
  others present fairly ordinary people (interesting, but
  basically "regular") who find themselves in extraordinary
  circumstances.  Or, if not extraordinary, at least unusual
  and intriguing.

      There are exceptions to everything.  MY DINNER WITH
  ANDRE does *not* have much of a Story Hook — none at all,
  basically, outside of the curiosity factor (can the writer
  pull this off?).  But without a Story Hook — something about
  the concept that sounds fascinating and promising — then,
  unless you're an established writer of note, it's unlikely
  you'll get many people to read your script.  And, should the
  script be filmed anyway, it's unlikely many will go see it.

      Even most indie and art house films have a strong Story
  Hook — some kind of highly unusual, fresh, sometimes
  sensational element that really piques our curiosity and
  hooks our interest, and which stimulates a desire to read or
  see the story.

      And by the way, the idea of having a Story Hook — and
  the importance placed on it — is nothing new.  Most of
  Shakespeare's plays had premises that were compelling,
  alluring, and unusual, and which provoked curiosity and
  interest.  Two teenagers fall in love — only to find that
  they are each from prominent families engaged in a long-
  standing and violent feud.  That's the "story angle worth
  attention" in ROMEO AND JULIET.  There are also strong and
  particular premises in HAMLET, MACBETH, KING LEAR, and many
  others.

      It goes even further back:  about 2,400 years ago, to
  the days of Greek drama.  The comedies of Aristophanes and
  others are noted for being based upon some fanciful,
  whimsical "Happy Idea," as it has often been termed.  For
  instance, in LYSISTRATA, women of two warring states refuse
  to have sex with their husbands and lovers until the men
  agree to end the war.

      Most tragedies of that era also contained Story Hooks.
  MEDEA concerns an emotionally distraught woman who, to
  punish her cheating husband who has left her, murders their
  children.  OEDIPUS REX features a king who discovers he was
  adopted ... and now realizes that several years ago, he
  killed his actual father — and is now married to his mother!

      Clearly, Story Hooks don't have to be that sensational.
  But they should contain something highly distinctive, maybe
  even extreme, either in terms of situation or
  characterization.  Something out of the ordinary.  Often
  it's something that suggests high stakes.  Or is rather
  surprising ... something that promises to be a tantalizing
  and dramatically effective tale.

      Not all movies have a Story Hook — but most successful
  ones do.  Not all screenplays contain a Story Hook — indeed,
  most scripts by amateur writers do not.

      The Story Hook, ultimately, is some unusual,
  distinctive, fascinating, fresh, surprising, delightful, or
  exciting element of the story concept.  It's the "story
  angle of interest" that would (a) make people want to read
  the screenplay, and (b) make people want to see the movie.

      In short:  a concept should contain something that
  attracts our attention and that "hooks" our interest.  And
  makes us want to read the script or see the movie.

      In addition to the overall Story Hook, most good stories
  have another kind of hook as well ...

                      #2 — THE INITIAL HOOK

      Somewhere in the first few minutes of a screenplay, it's
  important to "hook" the reader or viewer.  If the reader
  isn't hooked in the first five pages, he or she may set the
  script aside.

      A TV viewer who isn't hooked in the first five minutes
  will almost certainly grab for the remote.

      Of course, for those who have taken the time to go to a
  cinema to see a movie, they won't leave after five minutes
  if they aren't hooked yet.  But they may grow restless and
  start engaging in critical nit-picking.  Once viewers start
  doing that, it's tough to get them out of that negative
  mode.

      Almost always in a good screenplay or movie, there's
  something in the first five minutes that serves to hook our
  attention in some way.  It could be a Big Event — startling,
  shocking, exciting.  But it could also be some relatively
  small incident or action that somehow fascinates us and
  awakens our curiosity — something mysterious, perhaps, or
  out-of-place.  Or it could be something that makes us really
  like (or dislike) a character.  Or something that makes us
  see how unusual a particular character is.  It might be a
  line of dialogue — threatening, hilarious, or just extremely
  curious.  It could even be some sort of arresting,
  compelling image.

      One way or another, whether it's a major event, a
  humorous or intriguing line of dialogue or bit of business,
  an unusual character, a minor but fascinating incident that
  piques our curiosity or attracts our attention, or a
  wonderful image, we need to be hooked in the first five
  minutes.

      And usually, this Initial Hook will occur within the
  first three minutes (three pages).

      Sometimes the Catalyst (the Inciting Incident) also acts
  as a Hook, if it occurs within the first five minutes.

      For instance, in FIELD OF DREAMS (the whispered voice
  "If you build it, he will come") is both the Initial Hook
  *and* the first stage of the Catalyst.

      Other films with early Catalysts that double as Initial
  Hooks include THE FUGITIVE (the murder), SHAWSHANK
  REDEMPTION (he's on trial for murder), BICYCLE THIEF (the
  long-awaited and badly needed job offer, but, since he has
  no bike at the moment — a prerequisite for the job — he lies
  and says he does to get the job), A KNIGHT'S TALE (the death
  of the knight, and the squire deciding to illegally take his
  place), and AIR FORCE ONE (the commando assault and
  kidnapping of the terrorist).

      Usually, however, the Catalyst comes after the five
  minute mark.  In that case, we need something else in the
  first pages to hook interest and attention.

      In action or adventure movies, Initial Hooks are easy to
  spot, as in the openings of STAR WARS, RAIDERS OF THE LOST
  ARK, THE MATRIX, and all James Bond films.  In IN THE LINE
  OF FIRE, it wasn't the opening scene, but rather one that
  began about three minutes into the film.

      In comedies, it will usually be something comedic.  In
  dramas, it's whatever intriguing, dramatic, or fascinating
  event or image serves the purpose:  a floating feather in
  FORREST GUMP, or a little boy reciting a coach's pep talk by
  heart in RUDY.

      An Initial Hook doesn't always take the form of one
  specific event, exchange of dialogue, action, or image,
  although that's usually the case.  Occasionally, however,
  there are instead several smaller "mini-hooks" that, taken
  together, create the proper frame of mind in the reader or
  viewer, and which creates trust in the material.  After
  several of these smaller mini-hooks, we are apt to say to
  ourselves, "I like this ... looks like this will be good."

      Thus, sometimes the quality of the writing and the
  existence of several effective moments can, collectively,
  add up to the Initial Hook.  It achieves the same thing:
  the audience is "into" the material, and is eager to
  continue reading or watching.

      Big or small, attract our attention.  Grab our interest.
  Get us on board.  Engage us, mentally or emotionally.  Make
  us forget about everything else but what we're reading or
  seeing.  Make us eager for the story to proceed.

                             SUMMARY

      So make sure your screenplay contains not one, but two
  hooks.  A Story Hook — something about your basic concept
  that is distinctive and alluring and which indicates some
  dramatic (or comedic) potential ...

      And an Initial Hook, in the first five pages —
  preferably within the first three.  You may use the
  equivalent of a two-by-four smashed across our face, a
  tickle, a strange or stunning image, or a tantalizing
  whisper.  Engage us — hook us — and make us want to see or
  read more.

                           #   #   #

  Copyright 2002 by Jeff Newman
  All Rights Reserved

  LOOKING FOR INFORMED, OBJECTIVE FEEDBACK for your
  screenplay?  Or for your treatment/outline?  Or your first
  act?

  Check out Jeff Newman's STORYNOTES SCREENPLAY EVALUATION
  SERVICE: http://storynotes.com

                       * * DISCOUNT! * *

  For subscribers to this (free) e-newsletter, or for posters
  on mws newsgroup (misc.writing.screenplays) or the "Done
  Deal" message board, rather than the standard rates of $400,
  $600, or $1,000, you may receive these same evaluations for
  $300, $500, or $900, effective through 12/31/02.

  If you do not have a screenplay quite ready to send out, you
  can send the check now to hold your place on the script
  pile, and to qualify for the discount.  If your script is
  still not ready when its turn comes up, your letter will
  remain at the top of the pile and your script will be the
  next one read whenever it does come in.

  Turnaround time is generally 4 weeks from the time payment
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  Go to http://storynotes.com for details about the evaluation
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  Jeff Newman
  storynotes@...



  To read past articles ...


  For Issues 1-15:
   http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter/messages/3?
expand=1

  For Issues 16-20:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter/messages/20?
expand=1

StoryNotesNewsletter

  ... returns!

  With shorter articles.

  I have several in reserve,
  so we're good to go for a
  few weeks.

  Sorry for the long absence;
  I was working on a few
  projects, and kept thinking
  I'd be back far sooner than
  turned out to be the case.

  So without further ado:


  ISSUE #19


                       PREMISES, PREMISES

      "Premise" is a much-used term — and one that sometimes
  causes confusion.  That's because it has multiple meanings.
  Since that's the case, it's actually best to refrain from
  using this word. You may mean "premise" in the sense of
  Definition A, whereas the person listening to you may assume
  you mean Definition B or C.  The result:  miscommunication.

      Poor communication can have unfortunate results.  When
  the message you intend to transmit is not accurately
  received, the result is, at best, confusion.  At worst:  the
  other party may question your intelligence.

      So abstain from tossing the word "premise" about.
  However, since you are bound to hear it used (and to read
  it), you must inoculate yourself against confusion.  Given
  the context in which the word is used, you should be able to
  tell what the speaker or writer means — that is, which of
  the three definitions are "in play."

      Those three definitions are:

      1.  Concept
      2.  Log line
      3.  Theme

                 PREMISE DEFINITION #1:  CONCEPT

      "Premise" is most frequently used to be synonymous with
  "concept."  So if someone asks, "What's the premise?" they
  generally mean "What's the concept — what's the core idea?"
  Or perhaps, "What's the basic situation?"

      The answer might be "Two middle-aged guys have been good
  friends for years — one is divorced, and now the other guy's
  wife dumps him, and he's a wreck.  They wind up becoming
  roommates — and in short order, they can't stand each other.
  One's a total slob, the other's a neat-freak.  They find out
  why their wives couldn't stand them, and almost drive each
  other insane."

      That, of course, is the premise/concept for the play and
  movie of THE ODD COUPLE.

      Another example:  "A traumatized young boy finally
  reveals his secret to a child psychiatrist:  he can see dead
  people — people who died violent deaths, and are in effect
  haunting him.  The psychiatrist comes to realize the
  terrified boy is telling the truth, and helps him to
  discover that this is a kind of gift; the dead are asking
  for his help, and they will be at peace when he gives it."

      So "premise" usually refers to the central idea, or the
  core concept of a story.  It's the basic situation of the
  story.

      This brings us to the second definition — related but
  somewhat different as well.

                  PREMISE CONCEPT #2:  LOG LINE

      For some people, "premise" refers to the story's log
  line, or "one-liner."  This is clearly related to the
  story's central idea or core concept, because a log line
  will express that.  But there is a difference:  a log line
  communicates the concept in a very brief and well-crafted
  way.  It's almost like ad copy.  It's designed to clearly
  and concisely convey the concept, and worded in a way that
  will maximize its appeal.  It is meant to make the idea seem
  as enticing, fascinating, and compelling as possible.

      Log lines are first aimed at producers, agents,
  managers, and development executives; they are meant to
  express the idea succinctly and in a way that demonstrates
  the power of the idea.  If the idea is a strong one, and
  it's worded well enough that it forcefully indicates the
  strength and potential of the idea, and the "flavor" of it,
  then the producer, agent, manager, or development executive
  may reply, "Sounds good — send the script."

      The other target for log lines:  the public.  If the
  script is produced, and the movie is made, some version of
  the log line will then become a marketing tool to help
  convey the essence of the concept to the public, and in an
  alluring way.  Later, a shortened version of the log line
  will be used for "TV Guide" and "TV Times" type listings,
  and in the various books that feature brief descriptions and
  ratings of movies available on video.

      "TV Guide" type listings are rarely more than 20 words
  long.  Usually much less.  They sometimes capture the
  concept, but rarely the "sizzle."  The log lines devised for
  producers, agents, etc., can be that short, when the idea
  can be conveyed that concisely and still retain its power.
  But usually they are as much as 25 or 30 words long, even as
  much as 50.  One or two sentences are preferable; three are
  acceptable.

      So a log line is a shorter, more carefully worded
  version of the concept, designed to entice the reader or
  hearer into reading the script (or seeing the movie).

      Here is one potential log line version of the earlier
  and longer concept statement for THE SIXTH SENSE:  "A deeply
  disturbed boy finally confides his secret to a child
  psychiatrist — he sees dead people, and they are haunting
  him.  Then the psychiatrist discovers the boy isn't
  delusional; it's true."

      So if a person asks for the premise of your story, which
  do you relate?  If you're not sure which he or she means,
  play it safe:  provide the shorter, catchier log line.  If
  you are asked to elaborate, then you can do so.

      If one writer is talking to another about one of their
  scripts or ideas, a request for the premise probably means
  just a general statement of the concept, not necessarily a
  log line.  And if, in a story conference, a story analyst
  feels both of you are bogged down in details, he or she may
  say, "Wait a minute.  Let's be clear on the big picture, the
  heart of the movie.  Now, what's the premise of this?"
  Here, you can give the longer version of the concept, not
  the log line, since the log line is a selling tool, not an
  analytical tool.

      So it depends on the context.  If selling is the
  priority, use the log line.  If analysis or in-depth
  discussion is the context, give a fuller, more casual
  statement of the concept (Definition #1).  If in doubt, play
  it safe, and give the more concise, carefully crafted log
  line.

      There's still one more definition.  And this one relates
  to concept only indirectly.

           PREMISE DEFINITION #3:  THEMATIC STATEMENT

      The third and less-frequently used meaning for "premise"
  was popularized by Lajos Egri in his book _The Art of
  Dramatic Writing_.  For Egri, "premise" means a statement of
  theme, worded in a particular way.  For instance,
  "Misdirected goals lead to waste" would be the premise of
  DEATH OF A SALESMAN, and "Great love defies even death"
  might be the premise of ROMEO AND JULIET.

      Not many people in Hollywood use "premise" in this
  sense.  But some do, since Egri's book is widely known and
  studied.  First published in 1942 (and aimed at playwriting
  as opposed to screenwriting), it enjoys periodic resurgences
  of popularity and influence.

      Theme is important to many writers, although few try to
  make their thematic statements conform to Egri's specific
  paradigm.  Egri liked theme to be expressed briefly, and in
  three parts.  The first part is a dominant trait or
  character-based issue that can be seen early in the play —
  if not from the beginning, then by the End of Act 1 — and
  which is important to much of what happens throughout.  Such
  character-related traits, issues, or conditions might be
  things like "misdirected goals" or "great love," as seen
  earlier, or others like "honesty," "revenge," "ruthless
  ambition," "materialism," "poor communication,"
  "selfishness," etc.

      This trait or condition is followed by a verb such as
  "leads to," "results in," "defeats," "destroys," etc.  These
  indicate conflict and direction — a change process.  The
  final part of the Egri premise is the result.  It's the
  conclusion, the end-trait or new state of affairs.  This
  might be "death," "waste," "loss of friendship,"
  "humiliation," "crime," "self-destruction," or others that
  might be a bit wordier, depending on the final state of
  affairs.

      Most of his examples are aimed at tragedies or dark
  dramas.  Since most Hollywood movies end on a more positive
  note, an "unless" can be added — and then the way that the
  negative state of affairs is avoided would be noted.  Or
  there could be two premises, one that applies to an
  antagonist, and a more positive one to the protagonist.  Or
  one that applies to the "unenlightened" protagonist, and
  another to the protagonist after he or she has grown wiser,
  stronger, or better.

      A standard Egri-like premise might read "Ruthless
  ambition creates misery and destruction."  If the ending is
  a happy one, however, and the main character narrowly
  escapes that fate, the premise might then read "Ruthless
  ambition creates misery and destruction, but giving up such
  a life leads to contentment."  Or perhaps "Ruthless ambition
  creates misery and destruction, but ambition moderately and
  morally pursued leads to fulfillment and achievement."

      So if you're discussing your script with a development
  executive and the concept has already been clearly
  articulated, if you are then asked "All right, then what's
  the premise?" this person may be asking for an Egri-like
  statement of theme.

                           CONCLUSION

      "Premise" has multiple meanings.  It can refer to
  concept, log line (a concise, market-oriented statement of
  concept), or a particular kind of thematic statement.

      Given this cornucopia of definitions, it is best to
  avoid risking confusion.  Knowing the three meanings, and
  weighing the context in which the word is used, you will
  usually be able to tell which meaning the speaker or writer
  intended.  But as for yourself:  when you want "premise" to
  mean "concept," just say ... concept.  Or maybe "basic
  situation."  When you intend it to mean "log line," just say
  (you guessed it) "log line."  And if you mean it as a
  particular type of thematic statement, say "statement of
  theme" or even "Egri-style thematic statement."

      And not so incidentally ... knowing your premise — all
  three of them — is quite important.

      Obviously, you should be clear on your central concept,
  your basic situation, before writing it.  Otherwise, you
  will write something that lacks focus and which tends to
  meander.  Also:  by articulating the premise, you can judge
  better as to whether the idea seems dramatically viable.  Is
  this something that lends itself to dramatization?  Will
  there be an audience that would be interested in seeing
  this?

      It's also wise to go the extra step, before writing, and
  to craft an actual log line.  If you can't ... perhaps
  you're not sure about what you are writing yet.  Or perhaps
  you don't yet understand the essence of your concept yet.
  Or maybe it's just not a concept that many people will ask
  to read once it's in screenplay form.  Or to see, should it
  get made into a movie.  Crafting a log line prior to writing
  the script helps you to achieve clarity and focus, and to
  test the potential of the idea.

      Finally, before writing, it's good to consider the
  thematic potential of your material.  Many stories will have
  several compatible themes, but usually one will be
  predominant.  Ascertaining the theme or themes in advance
  will add focus and significance to your story, and may well
  aid in the development of the plot, since some plot
  incidents will illustrate your theme.

      So keep premise in mind when developing your story — in
  all three senses of the word.

      But don't use the word yourself.  Why add to the
  confusion?  You'll get by nicely with "concept" or "basic
  situation," "log line," and "theme."

                           #   #   #

  Copyright 2002 by Jeff Newman
  All Rights Reserved

  LOOKING FOR INFORMED, OBJECTIVE FEEDBACK for your
  screenplay?  Or for your treatment/outline?  Or your first
  act?

  Check out Jeff Newman's StoryNotes Screenplay Evaluation
  service: http://storynotes.com

                          * DISCOUNT *

  For subscribers to this (free) e-newsletter, or for posters
  on mws newsgroup (misc.writing.screenplays) or the "Done
  Deal" message board, rather than the standard rates of $400,
  $600, or $1,000, you may receive these same evaluations for
  $300, $500, or $900, effective through 12/31/02.

  If you do not have a screenplay quite ready to send out, you
  can send the check now to hold your place on the script
  pile, and to qualify for the discount.  If your script is
  still not ready when its turn comes up, your letter will
  remain at the top of the pile and your script will be the
  next one read whenever it does come in.

  Turnaround time is generally 4 weeks from the time payment
  is received.

  Go to http://storynotes.com for details about the evaluation
  service.

  Jeff Newman
  storynotes@...



  To read past articles ...

  For Issues 1-15:
   http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter/messages/3?
expand=1

  For Issues 16-18, go here and then scroll down until you
  get to Issue 16:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter/messages/?expand=1

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #18:


(This is a continuation of the
  article which began in Issue #15; see
  the online archive at yahoo-groups if
  you did not receive or save Issues #15-17:
  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter)


PART 4 (OF 4):


IN ADDITION TO THE EXTERNAL DESIRE,

CONSIDER THE


             * * *   I N N E R   N E E D   * * *


                           EXAMPLES

     STAR WARS:  Luke feels a need for adventure.  But
actually, this is more of a generalized desire.  The need
beneath it is a desire to do something important, to make
use of his potential.  At the beginning, he feels stymied
and restricted.

     The need is partially fulfilled soon after Luke commits
to helping Obi-Wan.  Once he is involved with this
"adventure" -- one which he realizes is very important --
Luke blooms quickly.  He is no longer the somewhat whiny and
unassertive fellow he was on his planet.  Since this is an
ongoing type of need, it continues to motivate him
throughout.

     This is a case of the need providing extra motivation to
help achieve the goal, as well as the goal helping to
satisfy the need -- a two-way street.

     Because it's helpful for a story to be progressive, even
though his need was already, for the most part, fulfilled
well before the end of the story, the climatic event serves
to reinforce it.  It also acts as a specific manifestation
and proof that his need has been realized.  When Luke
demonstrates bravery and skill and is instrumental in
blowing up the Death Star, thus striking a blow for freedom
and saving many innocent lives that would otherwise have
been killed ... his need has now been totally, completely
fulfilled.  For now.  He has had a huge adventure, done
something important, and gone a long way toward realizing
his potential.  Both pursuing and achieving the goal helped
fulfill the need.

     And since some of his preexisting need is satisfied once
he becomes involved with the rebel struggle, a new need
emerges:  to trust his abilities -- specifically, to trust
The Force.  This need evolves from an earlier, secondary
need, where he is seen as not trusting that his involvement
with the rebels would make any difference.  Thus, two needs.
And when the primary one is largely satisfied due to his
participation with the rebels, the secondary one rises to
the dominant position.  And it, too, is satisfied at the
climax, when he *does* trust himself and The Force at the
critical moment.

     BACK TO THE FUTURE:  Marty wants to be a musician, but
doubts his abilities.  Worse, he lacks the confidence to
take risks.  His fear of failure and rejection holds him
back, as it did his dad.  He needs courage and self-confidence.

     By being involved in this situation, that need is
realized gradually, a bit at a time.  We know he's well on
the way when he gives advice to his future father about
trusting oneself and being willing to take risks.  We know
he has changed when he performs in front of the dance.  The
fact he does it, risking rejection, says much.  And the
thrill he gets from that, coupled with the self-confidence
he has gained by being involved and active in this overall
ordeal, leads to him being a changed person by the end.

     OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN:  The Richard Gere character
feels a great need for acceptance and especially belonging.

     As with many stories, this need isn't fulfilled all at
once, or at any one moment.  But a large step forward occurs
when he sacrifices his own self-interest to help another
cadet.  This earns him much more respect and acceptance.  He
now is accepted by the group, and belongs to it.  And later,
upon graduation, he "belongs" to the Navy as a whole.  He
has fulfilled his need.

     ROCKY:  Rocky needs to feel like he *is* someone  -- to
feel like a somebody.  Someone who is or has done something
significant and worthwhile.  He needs a sense of self-worth.

     This is partially fulfilled by being aware of how much
progress he has made due to his intense efforts.  And as a
result of his relationship with Adrian.  But it's only truly
fulfilled when he sets a high standard for himself:  to go
the distance.  Once he actually does that -- by giving it
his all -- he then feels like a someone.  He gains the full
measure of self-worth that he lacked.  So in this film, it
doesn't really happen until the very end.

     THE FIRM:  Mitch's need is roughly similar to Rocky's,
but tied in with a need for security as well.  His quest for
status and material goods is a result of his need for
feeling important and secure.

     By taking the clever and heroic actions that he does in
the course of the movie's events, by the end of this ordeal,
Mitch can certainly feel like a somebody, and he now knows
he doesn't need wealth or a glamorous job to achieve that.
Just as he comes to realize that the security he needs won't
come from material sources, but from any satisfying work
that provides basic needs, coupled with a solid relationship
with his wife.

     CASABLANCA:  Rick needs to end his emotional
isolationism so he can again connect with others, so that he
can once more be emotionally alive.  And he needs to heal --
to get past the hurtful and disappointing event in his past.

     He fulfills part of this when he allows Ilsa to explain
why she did what she did, and then when he does, indeed, put
the bitterness and hurt behind him.  The remainder of the
need is fulfilled at the end, when he puts the needs of the
many above his own, and once more becomes not just
emotionally, but morally and politically involved, by once
again become a freedom fighter.

     IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE:  George needs to feel important,
that he's doing something big and worthwhile in his life.
He thinks he needs to leave his hometown to do this, to be
an architect or builder, designing or constructing
skyscrapers, towns, airports, and so on.  But by the end, he
realizes that his life has been and is important, that he
has contributed greatly.  Many people's lives would be much
darker or emptier without him.  And some wouldn't be alive
at all.  So starting at about the 3/4 point, and continuing
until the end, George realizes how significant and rich his
life really is, and how much he's appreciated by others,
thus attaining the satisfaction and joy that he had been
missing.

     A number of films feature characters who feel guilt, and
who have a need to forgive themselves or be forgiven.  This
can be seen in IN THE LINE OF FIRE, ORDINARY PEOPLE,
VERTIGO, and CLIFFHANGER.  And others as well.

     However, as stated earlier, it's not always a primarily
internal need that we're speaking of, as the need to expiate
guilt, gain (or give) forgiveness would be -- or the others
mentioned before (belonging, self-worth, how to trust, a
sense of security).

     Instead, it can be a life situation that affects one's
psychological, emotional, and/or spiritual well-being.  For
instance, the need could be about finding one's true path or
role -- the need to become the person he or she was meant to
be.  To find and pursue one's passion or bliss.  Such as in
LA BAMBA.

     Frequently, people find themselves in vocations that
they are not suited for, and while they may be competent,
they are miserable.  Whether due to greed, trying to please
parental desires or continue family traditions, lack of self-
confidence, or some other factor, some individuals
pursue a line of work that goes against their natural
aptitude.  So that person's need could be to stop doing that
which is "wrong" for them, and discover his true aptitude,
and pursue it.  This was seen in RUDY.  By finally pursuing
a dream that he'd cast aside, he discovers an aptitude for
learning and for goal achievement that opens up a whole new
future for him.

     In HOOK, Peter needs to rediscover the child within him,
and free himself from the stultifying effects of
conventionalism, conformism, and materialism.  And by
recapturing his inner child, he regains joy, spontaneity,
and a new, better relationship with his children.

     We know he's partially fulfilled his need when he
regains the ability to fly; that is a physical manifestation
of his progress (and in turn, it spurs his progress).  We
know the need has been fully satisfied at the end, when he
flings his cell phone away.

     In THE GODFATHER, Michael needs to honor his family
while also honoring his wife and his values.  He fails.

     In GHOST, he simply needs to learn the importance of
expressing his love.  And at the end, he does so.

                          EXCEPTIONS

     Are there movies where there is no discernible inner
need?  Yes, but then usually a deep, long-held yearning or
desire takes the place of a need, and fulfills the same
function.

     Sometimes rather than a need or even a strong positive
desire, we simply have a character flaw, a faulty strategy
for attaining goals or dealing with others, or some kind of
vulnerability.  We don't know the source of it.  We assume
there is one, but there aren't even any clues or evidence
that would lead us to a reasonable conclusion.  Whether or
not this is dramatically sufficient is a subjective
judgment.

     Another exception, as noted earlier, is that it may not
be the main character with a need, but rather one or more
other characters.

     Still, in most mainstream film stories -- and many
independent-style films -- there *is* an important character
with a detectable Inner Need which is relevant to the
character's moods and attitudes, to the goal and its
pursuit, to the key flaw, and/or to the theme.  A primarily
internal quality or a life situation that affects the
character's psyche is missing, which, if attained, would
prove beneficial.

     But it's not a rule.

     Can a character have two or more inner needs?  Again,
you can do anything you want, as long as it works.  Yes,
there are a few plays and films that do that.  And sometimes
it's effective.

     When it's done, it's best to try to find a need that
encompasses both or the several needs.  For instance, Hamlet
needs to find a better balance between extremes of excessive
thought ("paralysis by analysis") and rash action (acting
without thinking), and between excessive swings between
reason and passion, admiration and disgust, energy and
depression.  So yes, he has at least four inner needs.  But
we could say that there is an overarching need:  to balance
his life; to achieve a balanced, moderate state of mind and
behaviors.

     If tempted to have more than one inner need, the thing
to beware of is too much complexity.  It can become
confusing and unnecessarily complicated, and can create a
lack of focus in the story.  But if you know what you are
doing, and if you can evaluate your work honestly and have others
evaluate it objectively, you may be able to pull it
off, and it may work well.

     In KARATE KID, there are two main needs, one of which
encompasses several related, subordinate needs.

     One of Daniel's two most important needs:  to find
belonging and acceptance in his life.  He's new to this
neighborhood and school.  He doesn't have a father.  His
mother loves him, but that's not enough.  He feels like an
outsider (and he is).  He longs for peer friendships and
approval.  And it wouldn't hurt to have a father-figure in
his life.  He gets the father figure (and acceptance) from
Mr. Miyagi, and he gets acceptance and approval from his
girlfriend (except when his actions justifiably anger her).
And at the end, he achieves acceptance and respect from many
of his other peers.

     His other major need actually encompasses several needs
which, while separate, are also related.  He needs to learn
to at least try to spot the differences that often exist
between appearances and reality; currently he often is
fooled.  He needs to think before he acts; too often he acts
rashly, with negative consequences.  And he needs to learn
how to trust those who have earned his trust.  That's a lot.
Together with his need for belonging and acceptance, that's
four needs!

     But it's really only two major ones.  The others --
learning that appearances can be deceiving, to trust when
it's been earned, and to look before leaping -- these are
all part of learning how to think clearly.  Those four are
all about going beyond fast, superficial, inadequate, and
lazy thinking.  So his second major need -- one that
encompasses four others -- is to learn to think more, and
more deeply and clearly.  To become a more thoughtful and
discerning person.

                            SUMMARY

     For the character in question, an unmet Inner Need can
be extremely important.  Until that need is realized, the
main character will not be truly happy -- *even if he or she
achieves the goal.*  Of course, sometimes achieving the goal
will result in the need being met -- as a kind of side-benefit, an
unexpected bonus.

     Until the need is satisfied, the character will not feel
complete, content, healed, or fulfilled.  Chances are, he or
she will not be able to sustain a satisfying relationship.

     And from a story-telling perspective, giving your main
character an Inner Need -- something missing within the
character or the character's life that would prove
beneficial, if gained -- serves to enrich the level of
characterization.  It also helps the audience to identify
with the character more, and often to sympathize, as well.

     In addition, it provides additional motivation for a
character's actions and goals.  The need supports the goal.
The goal itself provides ample incentive.  But if gaining
the goal would also help fulfill the need, then there is
even greater reason to struggle mightily and to persevere.

     For instance, if the goal is to win the race (or
contest, tournament, bout, or game), an Inner Need for
approval, respect, or self-esteem would motivate the
character to struggle harder for the goal than someone
without one of those internal needs and who was only trying
to win to get the reward money.  The character with the
Inner Need has a *double* motivation.  He wants the reward
money, too.  But he also has an Inner Need pushing him even
harder.

     It works the other way, as well.  Besides the need
providing extra motivation to help achieve the goal,
sometimes the goal can help satisfy the need.  Either the
pursuit of the goal, or the achievement of it (or both) can
lead to the fulfillment of the need.

     The goal pulls, the need pushes.  The need helps the
goal to be achieved; the pursuit and/or achievement of the
goal helps satisfy the need.

     But sometimes the character is mistaken.  The goal would *not*
help fulfill the need -- it may, in fact, work against
it.  For instance, a goal to gain a promotion and a raise
(working 80 hour weeks) could clash with a need for love or
family.

     When this is the case, when the Inner Need and the
external Goal are at odds -- well, then we've got some
wonderful inner conflict.  And a key decision looms ahead.

     So having an Inner Need can work both ways.  And either
way, there's a strong connection to the goal.

     An Inner Need can lend credence to a key flaw or flawed
strategy as well, since this flaw often arises as a response
(albeit an inappropriate, counter-productive one) to the
unmet need.  Thus, the flaw or deficiency will seem more likely, more
understandable, and less random.

     An Inner Need can provide a story with a whole other
dimension -- an internal track, which interacts with, lends
significance to, and enriches the external track.

     Not every movie uses an Inner Need, or strong, long-held
desire.  But most mainstream films do, to one extent or
another.  So if a story you are struggling to create lacks
motivational power or seems a bit superficial, perhaps it
needs an Inner Need.


                            #  #  #

Copyright Jeff Newman, 2001


JEFF NEWMAN is a screenplay consultant -- rated #2 out of 17
script analysts reviewed and ranked by "Creative
Screenwriting" (March-April 1999).

                     * * *  NOTICE  * * *

The 2001 Las Vegas Screenwriting Conference will take place
this July 12-15 at the Tropicana Hotel and Casino.  The list
of guests is unparalleled!  The opportunities are too good
to miss.  For details, go to:  vegasscript.com

                            * * *

A NOTE from the author of this article (and all the
"StoryNotesNewsletter" articles:

I offer a $300 screenplay evaluation consisting of on-script
notes, a tape recording elaborating on the notes, 10 pages
or more of written evaluation (6 pages or more of written
commentary, and a 4-page checklist), and a follow-up phone
consultation.

If even more extensive feedback is desired, there are two
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For details, and info on my other evaluation services,
please see my humble homepage:  http://storynotes.com

To read my bio, scroll down to the very bottom of the
"Services & Prices" page and click on "Credentials."

There is also a "Testimonials" link -- feedback from some writers who
have used my evaluation services.  If you'd
like, you may call me in Los Angeles at (310) 715-6455.

To see other of my articles on screenwriting, go to:

  http://hollywoodnet.com/StoryNotes/films.html

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  http://creativescreenwriting.com/storynotes/storynotes.html

And here's one you'll have to cut and paste, since it's too
long to fit here and stay all in blue:

http://groups.google.com/groups?
q=StoryNotes&hl=en&lr=&safe=off&sa=G&scoring=d

NEXT MONTH:  a one-time departure from our craft-oriented
articles.  June's article will be about marketing -- in
particular, how to write effective query letters and log
lines.  And some info on some services available that can be
of great help to the outsider struggling to break in.


                             *  *  *  *

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #17:


(This is a continuation of the
  article which began in Issue #15; see
  the online archive at yahoo-groups if
  you did not receive or save Issue 15 or 16:
  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter)


PART 3 (OF 4):


IN ADDITION TO THE EXTERNAL DESIRE,

CONSIDER THE


             * * *   I N N E R   N E E D   * * *


                       AN ADDED BENEFIT

     So far, we've discussed several ways that having an
Inner Need can benefit the story.

     It can help to support the goal, adding additional
motivation.  It can be used to explain and add interest to a
character's attitudes and moods.  It can explain a
character's primary flaw or faulty strategy.

     In addition, it can help in dimensionalizing your
character.  A character with an unmet inner need is a bit
more complex than one without one.  And possibly more
realistic.

     Finally, an Inner Need can assist in creating sympathy
for the character.  Most of us can understand and identify
with a character who has an unmet inner need or a strong,
long-held desire.  And since the need or long-time, deep
desire has not been fulfilled, and the character
(consciously or not) longs for it and would be happier and
better off were it to be fulfilled, we sympathize with the
character.

                        NEED VS. DESIRE

     It's important to understand that need is not always the
same as desire.  And that what we *think* we need is not
always the same as what we really need.

     A character may think he needs revenge.  In reality, his
need may be for "closure" -- letting go of the pain from the
past, not letting it cripple his present and future.  Or his
need may be for healing.  He may want revenge, and think he
needs it.  But what he really needs is to abandon the quest
for revenge, and achieve healing instead.  And possibly seek
justice, which is not the same thing as revenge.

     An addict may think he "needs" a fix.  But he doesn't.
It will make him feel better, temporarily.  But it will just
prolong or even intensify his pain and problems.  Using more
cocaine, heroin, or booze will not fulfill an Inner Need,
and may even take one further away from it.  The true need
is to end the addiction, and also to fulfill the unmet need
which may have led the character to use the toxic substance
in the first place in a flawed strategy to either fulfill
the need, or to at any rate numb the psychic pain and/or
provide a distraction, etc.

     "Desire" is not always "need."  And what someone thinks
he needs, and what he really needs, are not always one and
the same.  In fact, in cases like this, these desires and
false needs are really akin to flaws which tend to be faulty
coping strategies, and to be counterproductive to fulfilling
the need.

     But sometimes, a strong desire, if a healthy or harmless
one, *can* function as a need.  An intense desire to rise
above one's place in a regimented, restricted society -- to
become a knight, perhaps, which is forbidden to peasants --
may not be a need, strictly speaking.  But the desire is so
deeply rooted and long-felt that dramatically, it functions
as an inner need.

     So a desire that would be harmful to the individual is
not a true need, nor can it substitute for one -- but it can
function as a key flaw.  But a strong and long-held desire
that would be neutral or beneficial can perform the same
dramatic function as a need.  While the character does not
absolutely need this desire to avoid an empty, miserable,
lonely life, he or she does need the attainment of the
desire in order to lead a happier, more fulfilling life.  So
in that sense, a long-held, intense desire *is* a kind of
need.

                        "SOCIAL" NEEDS

     Usually the Inner Need is primarily personal in nature,
although a person with an unmet need often affects others in
negative ways.  Still, the need itself -- for greater self-worth,
belonging, meaning in one's life, love, self-expression, etc. -- is
basically a personal need.

     Sometimes, however, there is no defined or pressing
personal need, but there is a kind of social imperative.  If
the character is in some kind of influential position -- the
head of a family, a community leader, or any kind of
governmental official, chieftain, or ruler -- then sometimes
the need is less personal, and more social in nature.  The
need may be to understand the plight and needs of one's
constituents.  Or to understand, tolerate, perhaps even
appreciate differences with neighboring peoples.   Or to
balance self-interest with the public interest.  Thus,
people in a position of influence or actual power may not
have a purely personal need, but in order to be a better
person and in particular a better family, community, tribal,
business, regional, or national leader, the individual may
have a social need that must be met.  Otherwise that
individual, and many others, may suffer.

                        NEEDS AND FEARS

     Earlier, it was mentioned that a person with a fear of
intimacy but who also had a *need* for intimacy in effect
had two, closely related inner needs:  the need for
intimacy, and a need to dispel the fear of intimacy.

     That's one way of looking at it, and a workable way.
Another way would be to say that the fear of intimacy is
really the Key Flaw.  Thus, the Inner Need is for moving
past an overly solitary existence and achieving a satisfying
and meaningful intimacy with the right person.  And the
Primary Flaw is the fear that effectively blocks that need.

     But how does that person's fear express itself?  How
does the fear *act* to block potential intimacy?  As stated
before, it could be avoidance of others, or it could be
sarcasm, or something else, such as critical fault-finding,
so as to push others away before they push you away.

     In that case, is the Key Flaw the fear of intimacy, or
is it, say, excessive sarcasm?  In reality, this is a false
choice.   The sarcasm is an outgrowth of the fear.  It's a
way to avoid feeling fearful.  They are closely related.  In
effect, they are the same thing.  The Key Flaw can be seen
as the fear, and the sarcasm is the strategy for avoiding
the fear.  Or the Key Flaw can be seen as sarcasm, and the
fear would be the reason for it.  One cannot approach this
in an overly regimented manner.  We cannot say, "Well, he
can't have two Key Flaws, so we'll have to get rid or one or
another."  A character *can* have more than one flaw.
Usually, though, one takes precedence.  Or at any rate, one
is more relevant to the goal (hindering it) or the need
(blocking it).  Or both.  So in the case being discussed,
the two are so closely related that, yes, there can be two.
Or one (the fear), with the other an adjunct to it, or the
outgrowth of the fear.

     Very frequently, a fear is associated with the Inner
Need.  And in such a case, the Fear (of achieving that need)
would become the Primary Flaw.  And no doubt there would be
one or two adjuncts or outgrowths to the flaw -- the means
employed to avoid feeling that fear.

                     OUTER & INNER STORIES

     Many stories have an outer and an inner track.  The
outer, or external, track relates to the Main Goal -- the
actions and attempts to solve a big problem, and/or to get,
do, or become something.  Thus, the external story is about
the events and efforts to achieve the goal, despite
difficulties.

     The Inner, or internal, story, relates to the Inner Need
and/or the Key Flaw.  And also the internal conflicts and
struggles that occur when trying to vanquish the flaw and
fulfill the need despite a fear of change and/or the counter-efforts
of the deeply ingrained flaw.  There may be
other internal conflicts as well, such as when values clash,
or when a character must choose between two almost equally
desirable things, or between two bad options.

     A story that has only the outer track usually seems too
empty, too superficial, too thin.  It's generally
unsatisfying.  The inner track adds resonance, significance,
and power.

     And it's very difficult to have an Inner Story without
an Inner Need.  It's possible -- by confining the Inner
Story to dealing with a Key Flaw, such as a fear, or a
flawed behavioral strategy, etc.

     But usually the Inner Need is an important part of the
Inner Story.  And the Inner and Outer stories will not only
intersect at several times, very distinctly, but also
influence one another at other times as well.  When one is
the primary focus, the other is still running "beneath" it.

     Often a Big Problem stands in the way of the Outer Goal,
and must be solved prior to achieving the goal -- or, the
goal itself is so difficult, that achieving it is, in
effect, the Big Problem.  Thus, we have an Outer Problem
(achieving an extremely difficult goal, or solving a big
problem so that we can achieve the main goal).

     And just as there is an Outer Problem, so too, as a
balance or parallel to that, can there be an Inner Problem.
And what would this Inner Problem consist of?  It would
usually consist of fulfilling an important, heretofore unmet
Inner Need, or controlling or eliminating a Key Flaw which
blocks the need (and would hinder goals).  Or both.

     Thus, one of three patterns will occur:

     1.  The character must solve the Inner Problem in order
to solve the Outer Problem.

     2.  By solving the Outer Problem, the character will
also solve the Inner Problem.  That is, once the Outer
Problem is solved, so too will the Inner one be.

     3.  The Inner Problem will be solved as a result of
trying to solve the Outer Problem -- whether the Outer
Problem is ever solved or not.

     And again, the Inner Problem usually means either the
difficulties involved with eliminating the Key Flaw (the
primary flaw, fear, excessive virtue, and/or faulty
behavioral strategy), or fulfilling the difficult-to-fulfill
Inner Need.  Or both.

                   WHAT HAPPENS TO THE NEED

     When does the need get fulfilled?

     In a few stories, never.  Hollywood isn't fond of those
stories, however, and rarely makes them.  Audiences aren't
either, usually (but execution is all).  Such stories are
sometimes seen in independent, art-house films.

     In most films, the need does get fulfilled.  Often, the
need is as important to the character as the goal, and
sometimes more so.  So the audience, while not as
consciously aware of the need as the goal, nonetheless wants
to see it realized.

     When and how the need is satisfied varies greatly.
Sometimes it happens relatively early in Act 2.  If the need
is something like a need for adventure or to do something
meaningful and significant with one's life, and that's what
the character is doing while struggling with the Big Problem
and/or trying to achieve a difficult-but-important goal,
then in effect, the need is already satisfied, at least
partially.  Needs like these are ongoing, so the need, even
though it has been met, will continue to motivate the
character, adding to the other motivations (saving lives, or
whatever the case may be).

     Occasionally, it happens at or near the end of the
middle act(s) -- at around the two-thirds or three-quarters
point of the story.  Usually, however, that's the more
likely place for the flaw to be conquered, or simply for a
breakthrough event to occur, swinging us onto the Road to
Resolution.

     It happens, but it's rare for both the flaw to be
vanquished *and* the need to be satisfied by the 3/4 point
of the story.  When that does occur, it's because the
character will need every bit of inner strength and balance
in order to solve the external problem and to achieve the
goal.  And the Final Ordeal and/or Final Confrontation that
the character goes through in the last act serves as a means
to test whether or not the need and flaw issues have, in
fact, been resolved, and if the change will stick.

     More often, however, it's just the flaw that is shed at
that point.  Otherwise, the last fourth of the story
(approximately), would be nearly all "external" story, with
no internal track.

     And quite often, both the flaw and the need are still in
place as we move into the last section of the story.

     When that's the case, the need may be met sometime
during the last act, or it can be met at the exact moment
that the goal is achieved, or it can come afterwards, as a
result of it.

     And it's not always like a key turning a lock.
Sometimes, yes -- sometimes there is one moment where
clearly the person has now found acceptance, approval, a
family, love, forgiveness, self-worth, etc.  But frequently
there is no one moment when it happens.  The decisions and
struggles throughout the middle acts may help to begin the
process of fulfilling it.  And/or an Ordeal near the end, by
the end of which the character may have expiated guilt, feel
forgiven, know that he or she can summon courage, has made a
difference, etc.

     And sometimes, even then, the need has not been fully
realized.  We may know at the conclusion of the story that
the character is on his way to having the need fulfilled,
and almost certainly will do so, but we don't see the
completion of that process.

     There is no set formula -- thankfully, or it would be
too restrictive and too predictable.

     The need can be met fairly early in the story, as soon
as the character engages in the main conflict and endeavors
to achieve the main goal (but if so, the ongoing need will
continue to motivate the character).  It may be fulfilled by
the end of the middle section of the story -- suddenly, or
in one last step that culminates the process up to that
point.  It can even be a sudden realization that the need
has already been fulfilled.  Or the need can be met just
prior to the resolution climax.  Or *at* the climax -- at
the same time the goal is achieved (if it is), or
immediately after.  Or during the denouement.  Or we just
sense that the process is underway, and will continue.  Or
not at all, if we favor that grim option.

     It depends on the needs of the story.  It depends on the
particular character who has been created, and on the
external problem/goal, and sometimes even on the theme of
the story.  It depends on what the writer decides works best
for this need, this character, this goal, this story.

                 INNER NEED AND CHARACTER ARC

     The fulfilling of an Inner Need would certainly play a
major part of a character arc.  Sometimes it's the principle
part of the character change.  There may be other aspects to
an arc -- the conquering of the inhibiting flaw, for
instance (which, as we've seen, is usually related to the
need).  Or any character growth, even if not strictly
related to a prior, pressing need.

	 But when there has been a heretofore unmet internal
need, and it is satisfied in the course of the story, that
would comprise a significant part of that character's arc.


(TO BE CONCLUDED in the next installment, Issue #18)

Coming up:  "Examples" from numerous and varied films.
Also:  "Exceptions," and "Summary."

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #16:


(This is a continuation of the
  article which began in Issue #15; see
  the online archive at yahoo-groups if
  you did not receive or save Issue 15:
  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter)


PART 2 (OF 4):


IN ADDITION TO THE EXTERNAL DESIRE,

CONSIDER THE


             * * *   I N N E R   N E E D   * * *


            THE DEPICTION & EXPRESSION OF THE NEED

     How is this need depicted onscreen?  It can vary
greatly.  Sometimes the need is quite obvious, sometimes
it's far more subtle.  It can be a powerful need, vitally
important (or nearly so).  Or it can be something that would
not doom the character to abject misery if unfulfilled, but
would be beneficial and lead to a better, happier life.
Sometimes it's never directly mentioned.  Other times, it's
referred to, or even discussed, briefly.

     First, let's reconsider the origin of the need -- how
much of this is revealed to the audience?

     Sometimes, the origin of the need is not made explicit
in the onscreen story.  When that is the case, generally the
reasons for the need can be at least partially inferred.  In
E.T., Elliott craves companionship.  Why?  Well, he feels
picked on and left out by his older brother and his
brother's friends.  His father is no longer part of the
family.  It's not spelled out, but we sense the need, and
its origin.

     Even when its origins are largely unexplained, the
writer should know them, in order to write the character
more believably, and to understand the character better.
But usually some hints will be given.

     And sometimes, as in the opening of VERTIGO, or the mid-story
flashback in CASABLANCA, the origins of the need are
actually depicted.  But that's rare.

     More often, some clues are given, and the audience, upon
reflection, can make some reasonable deductions as to the
nature of the need and its origins.  For instance, why does
Dorothy in THE WIZARD OF OZ long for a magical land, safe
and colorful, far away from Kansas?  We aren't told in so
many words.  But she lives a (to her) grim existence on a
farm (numerous and mundane chores, dangers from twisters, a
hardscrabble existence).  At some time in the past, she lost
her parents -- we don't know exactly when, how, or why, but
we know it happened; she lives with her aunt and uncle.  And
there's a nasty and somewhat wealthy neighbor who wants to
take away and destroy her beloved pet.  We get it.  We don't
need to have it spelled out.

     So the origin of the need may be made known to the
audience, or it may be merely implied, and the audience will
infer it.

     The same is true for the need itself.

     For instance, Rose's need for freedom and self-expression (two
intertwined needs) are clear but not
belabored in TITANIC.  It's depicted visually and through
actions, but it's not discussed in the dialogue.

     In some movies, the need is less obvious.  It may take
some time and thought to identify it.  But as we watch the
film, we nonetheless *sense* it.  And it still fulfills its
functions of adding motivation to the goal, and/or a reason
for the flaw, and sometimes affecting the character's
attitudes and moods.

     Even in movies where the need is fairly (or very) clear
and obvious, there will be many sections where it doesn't
seem to be pertinent, where its presence isn't noticeable.
And of course, this is the case throughout in a film where
the need is subtle, or subtly depicted.  But in both cases,
the need continues, if subtly, to affect the story --
because the need affects the pursuit of the goal (usually by
adding additional motivation toward its achievement).  And
it is often the origin for the flaw.  And it can affect a
character's attitudes and moods.

     So even when its presence isn't noticed, the Inner Need
is still functioning much like subtext -- it's alive and
active, but beneath the surface.  It's rather like a
computer program running in the background.  We don't see it
at the moment, but it's still on and operative.  Or like an
undercurrent beneath a river's surface.

     The need's impact on the character is usually different
at the beginning of the story as opposed to how the
character behaves once something that might lead to the
fulfillment of the need occurs.  And the character's
awareness of the need may also change as the story
progresses.  Finally, anyone or anything that seems likely
to supply the need, will become a powerful attracting force.

     Before we examine these concepts, let's return for a
moment to those two very different films, TITANIC and THE
WIZARD OF OZ.

     In both cases, something is missing from their lives.
For Dorothy, it's some of the magic, fun, and safety that
the best childhoods contain.  For Rose, it's the ability to
assert her own will and fulfill her innermost longings --
the freedom to be herself.

     In those two stories and many others, the Inner Need is
something -- situational and/or internal -- that is not only
lacking in their lives, but which is longed for, even if
subconsciously.  Quite often, the character is not fully
aware of his or her Inner Need.  And when they are, they
generally don't fully appreciate its importance and
relevance to their behavior and to their emotional state.

     This missing quality is almost like a void, a vacuum,
that seeks to be filled.  And thus, without realizing it,
the person is drawn to situations, persons, opportunities,
even problems that might lead to the fulfillment of the
need.

     The unmet need creates a general desire for an emotional
state or a quality in life that is missing -- such as for
adventure, to feel worthy and important, to trust those who
have proven worthy of trust, to find meaning for one's
existence, or one of the other states or conditions
mentioned earlier:  self-esteem, acceptance, belonging,
respect, love, forgiveness, self-fulfillment, security, and
so on.  When someone or something seems likely to provide
that, this person or opportunity will be like a magnet.
Even a problem or a risky, threatening situation can be, at
some level, embraced.

     Which doesn't mean that characters embrace these people,
situations, opportunities (which are often well-disguised),
or problems instantly or eagerly.  Sometimes that is the
case.  But often they feel an attraction to them, yet an
aversion as well.  There's an ambivalence, which may lead to
an initial reluctance.  It depends on the character and the
specific situation.

     This ambivalence can work well dramatically, because it
reflects that the character feels torn (inner conflict), and
it generally results in some external conflict as well.  And
it can pique audience curiosity, even generate suspense as
to what the character will do.

     What is the source of this ambivalence?  Why not
enthusiastically welcome the person or situation that might
lead to a fulfilling of the need?

     Well, sometimes, the characters do just that.  But other
times, the character's key flaw -- the goal- and theme-relevant
character deficiency -- gets in the way.  Also:
this means "change."  And most people, at least initially,
resist significant and important changes in their lives.

     This is one reason -- besides superficial quirks and
differences in personality and thinking styles -- that there
is often a kind of love-hate, start-stop element in screen
romances.  A flaw stands in the way of the need.  And
committing to this person will entail a significant personal
change -- and even though much of that change is desired,
change is still intimidating.

     It depends on the specific situation, and the particular
character.  In DIE HARD, there is no time for ambivalence.  McClane
must act immediately if he wants to save these
hostages, including his wife.  But in STAR WARS, the
situation allows Luke to initially turn down the request for
help -- until he is given more motivation, and his reasons-excuses
for saying no have been removed.

     In addition to affecting a character's behavior, the
unmet need can result in a less-than-radiant overall mood --
at least until the character is involved in a problem or
opportunity that at some level seems likely to lead to a
fulfillment of the need, and which provides a change of
pace, a distraction, and a challenge.

     Quite often there is some kind of negative state that
darkens the character's moods and attitudes in the opening
scenes, at least to some degree.  It may be a certain
glumness, a sadness, a sense of frustration or despair, a
yearning, a restlessness, a resentment, or even a bitterness
or an anger that lessens the capacity for satisfying
relationships and happiness.  This doesn't mean they are
wallowing in misery.  But in their opening scenes, Luke in
STAR WARS, Rose in TITANIC, Will in GOOD WILL HUNTING, Riggs
in LETHAL WEAPON, Daniel in KARATE KID, Dorothy in WIZARD OF
OZ, and Rick in CASABLANCA -- and many others -- weren't
exactly happy campers.

     They weren't all deeply troubled or constantly morose.
But there was something within them that was weighing them
down.  That unmet need, that something missing,  made them
feel less happy, cheerful, optimistic, content, and
enthusiastic about themselves and their lives than they
might have been.  They can still smile and laugh.  They can
still be fleetingly happy (usually, most of them).  But not
as often.  And not *as* happy as they would otherwise have
been.  So a character with an unmet Inner Need is, in the
opening scenes, akin to a slightly under-inflated ball.  It
will still bounce, but not as many times, and not as high.

     And remember, it's possible for our main character to be
quite happy indeed, and with his or her life almost entirely
satisfactory and on-track.  But then we'll likely have
another major character who has this sort of need.

     It's also possible that even a main character with a
need can be relatively chipper, even at first -- if it's a
relatively minor one, and/or if he or she isn't just largely
unaware of the need, but *totally* so.  He just doesn't know
what he's missing in life.  Until later.  He thought he was
happy -- like Cary Grant's character in NORTH BY NORTHWEST.
And up to a point, he was.   But soon he'll discover that
his life was far too bland and empty.

     So the need may be obvious and strongly displayed.  Or,
instead, the need may be subtly expressed.  But if so, we
still sense the need, and the effect it is having on their
moods, attitudes, and behaviors.

     Most of the time, at the beginning of the story, little
conscious effort is being made toward the fulfillment of the
Inner Need -- except, perhaps, a faulty behavioral strategy
stemming from the Key Flaw.  There's something missing from
the person's life, but he or she is accustomed to that.
Sometimes even resigned to it.  The character doesn't know
how to go about fulfilling the need.  And indeed, his or her
options may be limited, due to situational reasons.

     So once something happens (an Inciting Incident or an
End of Act 1 event) that the character senses might result
in the fulfillment of the Inner Need, once the period of
possible ambivalence has passed, the person may "go
overboard" for a time.  The pursuit of the need is still
largely unconscious, but vigorous nonetheless.  And
sometimes not particularly prudent.

     Therefore, once the character has embraced the person,
situation, and/or problem that may lead to the fulfillment
of the need, sometimes the means employed to attain this
love, adventure, excitement, validation, etc., are not wise,
positive, or healthy.  The desire for this -- the need for
it -- is so strong, characters may sometimes behave in ways
that are risky,  rash, somewhat excessive, even decidedly
extreme.  But they are unconsciously driven by this inner
lack and the general need or desire it has created.

     When this sort of zealous behavior is combined with a
still-active Key Flaw, the character's actions can put both
the Main Goal and the Inner Need at risk.

     On the other hand, sometimes moderation isn't called
for.  And when pursuing something vigorously, everyone makes
mistakes.  But it's best to tie those mistakes into the need
and/or flaw(s), rather than have them be random.

                          NEED & GOAL

     The Inner Need and the Outer Goal are, together, a
powerful combination.  They jointly affect the character's
actions, working as a team.

     This is assuming that there is some relationship between
the Need and the Goal.  The Outer Goal -- that is, the Main
Goal, the ongoing, overall objective -- should generally be
something that will, directly or indirectly, help fulfill
the Inner Need.  Or (a rare but interesting exception), it
could be an unwise goal that would pretty much destroy all
hope of achieving the need.

     Either way, there should be a relationship between goal
and need.  If there isn't, the writer might want to consider
changing either the goal or the need, so that there *is* a
relationship, a connection, between them.

     For instance, the goal could be a specific manifestation
of the need.  Luke's goal to help get the Death Star Plans
to Alderaan -- later changed to a goal of helping to destroy
the Death Star -- certainly is a means for fulfilling his
need for significance and for adventure.

     In cases like this, the need supports the goal, and the
goal offers an opportunity or a means for fulfilling the
need.

     In terms of the character's actions, the need pushes,
the goal pulls.

     Sometimes the need must be fulfilled for the goal to be
achieved.  Only then will the character have the strength
and balance necessary to achieve the goal.

     Conversely,  sometimes achieving the goal results in the
need being fulfilled.  By having done this particular deed,
a person may also achieve the validation, self-worth, sense
of atonement, acceptance, or whatever it was that he or she
needed.

     So the fulfilling of the need (together with the
elimination of the flaw) can lead to the goal being
achieved.  Or the achievement of the goal can also fulfill
the need.

     And sometimes it's the struggles, efforts, decisions,
and actions that occur during the *pursuit* of the goal,
together with enduring the ordeal, that leads to the need
being fulfilled.  Even if the goal were not achieved, the
need would or will be, as a result of the pursuit and the
experiences and insights gained during it.

     There is one exception to this pattern of need and goal
being mutually supportive.

     As noted earlier, sometimes the need clashes with the
goal.  They are mutually exclusive.  A goal of obtaining a
big score (lots of money) may entail selling out one's only
relative, thus destroying an Inner Need for family, as in
TWINS.  Or a goal of marrying for money might block a need
for love, as in SOME LIKE IT HOT.

     In cases like this, there will come a point where a
difficult choice has to be made.  The character must choose
between Need and Goal.  This is great internal conflict, and
the opportunity for personal growth -- a big advance in the
character arc.  If the character chooses goal over need,
it's a tragedy (or at any rate, an unhappy ending).  If the
character abandons the goal and chooses need, it's a
relatively happy ending.  Especially if he or she somehow
manages to also achieve some part of the goal, or a suitable
alternative, anyway.

     However it works, in most stories, there is a connection
between need and goal.

     And generally, the need supplies added motivation for
the goal, augmenting the other motivations such as the
specific reasons the character hopes to achieve the goal.
The need supports the goal, and in one way or another, the
goal will help to satisfy the need.

     To use some visual aids:

     INNER ==>     MAIN    >==>  OUTER
     NEED  ==>  CHARACTER  >==>  GOAL

     Translation:  Inner Need pushes, and Outer Goal
attracts/pulls.

     And then there is the fairly rare but interesting
scenario of the need and the goal being mutually exclusive.
In which case, the character feels torn and ultimately has
to choose.

     INNER <==<     MAIN    >==>  OUTER
     NEED  <==<  CHARACTER  >==>  GOAL

     Translation:  The Inner Need pulls the character in one
direction, the Goal in another.

     Either way, there is a close relationship between Need
and Goal.  They are either mutually supporting and
compatible, or mutually exclusive and antagonistic.

     But:

     NEED > FLAW || GOAL

     Translation:  the need leads to a key flaw, which often
acts to hinder the main goal.

     So for the most part, the need supports the goal, and
provides added motivation for achieving it, but since it
also is, usually, accompanied by a Key Flaw which tends to
interfere with the pursuit of the goal at times, in that
sense the Need indirectly works against the goal.

     All in all, the relationship of need to goal is a close
one.

(TO BE CONTINUED in Issue #17)

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #15:


Most of the best movies have two tracks:  the External Story
and an Internal Story.

The following 4-part article discusses the Inner Need, a
major component of the Internal Story.  The Inner Need
relates to "Backstory Event," "Key Flaw," and "Character
Arc," subjects of earlier articles.


(Due to its length, this article will be sent in four parts.
Thus, it will comprise Issues #15-#18.)

(You may prefer to cut-and-paste the four e-mail
installments into a word processing document -- Word,
WordPerfect, Works, etc.  It should then be easy to make
the page breaks come out properly, in case you wish to
print it out.  I suggest a left margin of 1.5" or 2.0",
depending on the font.)

(To see back issues of the StoryNotesNewsletter, go
to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter ...
and click on the word "Messages" in the left-hand column.)


PART 1 (OF 4):


IN ADDITION TO THE EXTERNAL DESIRE,

CONSIDER THE


             * * *   I N N E R   N E E D   * * *


     "What's he keep doing that for?"
     "She sure tries harder to win than the others.  Wonder
why?"
     "What's eating HIM?"

     The answers to these questions might well be, "Because
the character has an unmet *Inner Need*.

     An Inner Need refers to something within the character
or in the character's life that is lacking.  Or sometimes,
to an emotional or psychological wound that needs healing.

     It's a character trait or quality in his or her life
that the character needs in order to feel whole or healed.
If this missing quality or life circumstance is obtained or
fulfilled, the character will feel complete, healthier,
and/or happier.

     It could be a need for self-worth and self-esteem.  Or
for security.  Or stability.  Or a feeling of acceptance.
Belonging.

     It could be love -- a need to be or feel loved (and
loveable).  Or a need *to* love.  Or to have the ability to
express love.

     It might be a need to forgive -- or be forgiven.  Or to
release some aspect of the past.

     It might be a need for attention.  Or respect.  Or
serenity.

     It could even be a need for self-actualization -- a
fulfilling of one's highest potential.  This could relate to
"being all one can be," or to finding one's true aptitude --
the path or line of work that one was meant to do, that one
is best suited for.

     An Inner Need can be either a  primarily internal
quality, or a life situation that affects the person
emotionally, psychologically, or spiritually.  It's
something that the character lacks and needs, which, if
satisfied, would make the character a better, stronger, more
balanced person.

                          WHO HAS IT?

     Usually, the main character is the one with this Inner
Need.  But not always.  It could be that the main character
is "the rock" -- the strong and/or "normal" one who is
pretty secure, and who "has it all together" for the most
part, and who therefore acts as an example or a source of
strength for another character who *does* have an Inner
Need.  In such a case, this "whole and healthy" main
character intentionally or otherwise helps the other
character.

     And there can be more than one character with an Inner
Need -- the main character, and another.

                  HOW IT RELATES TO BEHAVIOR

     Having an Inner Need doesn't mean that the character is
neurotic, a basket case, incompetent, or even someone who
comes across as extremely needy.  Any of those are options
that can be utilized and are sometimes seen.  But usually,
the Inner Need does not manifest itself in such an extreme
fashion.  It's far more subtle than that.

     Many of us have one or more unmet Inner Needs, and yet
are relatively normal individuals who function well, for the
most part.  But at times, we are overly defensive, or overly
critical, or jealous, or we over-eat, or engage in reckless
behavior, or something of the sort.  And if we were to
really analyze why -- or to find out why *other* people do
that sort of thing -- we might discover that this behavior
is due to an unmet Inner Need.

     Or perhaps we strive for a particular objective much
harder than most others would -- much more vigorously and
persistently than most competitors we may have are striving.
That, too, could be due to the motivating force of an Inner
Need.

     So a character (or real-life individual) with an Inner
Need doesn't necessarily exhibit it all the time, or in
obvious ways.  But it may be what's behind a character flaw.
Or behind extraordinary efforts to solve a problem or
achieve a difficult goal.  Or both.

     It's simply an interesting and fairly important part of
the character's psychological makeup.  It's part of what
makes this character tick, and it does, at least at times,
influence decisions, reactions, and behavior.

                    THE ORIGINS OF THE NEED

     What causes this need?

     The need can arise either from a sustained situation in
the character's past -- often from childhood -- spanning
months or even years, or it can be triggered by a particular
Backstory Event, either a recent one or a long-ago event.

     In terms of an ongoing situation from the past:
sometimes the Need is caused by the lack of a critical
relationship.  The absence of one or both parents will often
create one or more internal needs.

     It could be due to poor nurturing by a parent or
guardian.  The child may have felt overly anxious due to
erratic, unstable behavior; demeaned by an overly critical
parent; or neglected or unloved by an emotionally distant or
preoccupied parent.  Or perhaps the child felt overburdened
with too many adult-like responsibilities or worries.

     Occasionally, the Need is an outgrowth of situational or
material deprivation, such as a lack of vocational or
artistic opportunity, or a lack of good schooling.  Such
deprivations could lead to an Inner Need for self-fulfillment (to
develop one's potential) or self-expression.

     Indeed, it often happens that severe situational or
material needs lead to a longer-lasting psychological need.
A sustained period of a lack of housing, suitable clothing,
or sufficient food could create an emotional need for
security.  This inner need may persist long after basic
needs are being reliably met -- even years later, after
plentiful times.

     If the limited and threadbare clothing of a poor child
results in taunts, that material lack may also damage his or
her self-esteem, leading to the need for a more positive
sense of self-worth.

     There may have been a period where some sort of
hardship, handicap, or burden had to be endured, perhaps due
to an illness or injury.

     It could be due to the person's appearance -- in the
past, or now.  Or both.

     To summarize thus far:  an Inner Need may have been
created due to a sustained and formative period of time in
the past, such as the absence of one or both parents, poor
nurturing by a parent or guardian, prolonged periods of
situational or material deprivation, by protracted
difficulties related to disease or injury, or due to
physical appearance.

     On the other hand, an Inner Need can also arise from a
particular Backstory Event -- one distinctive event or
episode that may have lasted only days or hours, even
minutes.

     It could be a traumatic or disturbing event of some
sort:  a death of a loved one, a divorce, sudden financial
ruin, an unwanted and disconcerting relocation, a sudden
jilting by a romantic interest when marriage seemed
imminent, or something of this nature.  It could have been a
terrifying ordeal:  witnessing a violent event, surviving a
brush with death due to an accident or sudden illness, or
having been the victim of an assault.  One way or another, a
particular event from long ago or just recently may have
created the person's Inner Need.

     Related to that, sometimes this Need is due to a sense
of being emotionally or psychologically wounded.  The
character needs to heal the wound by recognizing that he or
she *is* wounded, and how it happened -- and sometimes by
forgiving the person(s) responsible.  Or learning to let go,
to move beyond it.

                     INNER NEED & KEY FLAW

     We've seen that some aspect of the Backstory or a
Backstory Event is generally responsible for creating the
Inner Need.  The Inner Need, in turn, is frequently
responsible for creating the character's Key Flaw.

     The Key or Primary Flaw -- a fault, foible,
vulnerability, weakness, deficiency, error in thinking or
behaving, or even a virtue taken to an extreme -- is often
an outgrowth of the unmet Inner Need.  It's a reaction to it
-- but an inappropriate reaction.  Indeed, it's generally
counter-productive, and thus, ironically, likely to actually
*thwart* the fulfilling of the Inner Need.

     The flawed response to the unmet need can take two
forms.

     One is a kind of "acting out" reaction.  Because of the
frustration, feeling of emptiness, or pain that this unmet
need produces, the character begins (or has long ago begun)
to behave wrongly or inappropriately in some way.  This is
not much different than how a child may misbehave when he or
she doesn't get what was desired -- or as a result of
stress.

     This kind of response could take the form of frequent
pouting, emotional depression, a hair-trigger temper, a
quarrelsome or contrary attitude, over-sensitivity, self-indulgence,
or even a propensity for violence.

     The other kind of response can be a flawed strategy for
coping with the lack of the need, or even a misguided
strategy for attaining it.

     For instance, a need for respect or acceptance might
lead a person to a flawed means of trying to achieve it:  by
bragging, boasting, and acting in a superior manner.  While
the need prompted this approach, it's a flawed strategy,
likely to backfire.  It will not gain the person respect or
acceptance, and is even likely to lessen whatever respect or
acceptance he may already have.

     With another person, that same unmet need -- for respect
and/or acceptance -- could lead to a different flaw.  Rather
than becoming a braggart, the person might become a bully,
trying to obtain respect upon demand, through fear.  Yet
another may become a daredevil.  People may be impressed
with his courage, but also feel he's foolish and unbalanced.
Thus, the behavior once again fails to achieve its intended
but misguided objective of gaining respect.

     Two intertwined needs -- a need for intimacy, but also a
need to vanquish a *fear* of intimacy (due to being hurt in
the past) -- could lead to a flaws such as spurning
compliments and invitations, sarcasm, hyper-critical
comments, or other anti-social behaviors that indulge the
fear, but block the need.  Thus, the flawed behavior
assures that the person will remain isolated, and not
fulfill the need for intimacy.

     Despite evidence that these flaws -- these faulty
behavioral strategies -- are not working, and are actually
counterproductive and self-defeating, the characters
continue to utilize them.  It's like a bird repeatedly
flying into a window, over and over.  It ... just ...
doesn't ... get it.  People can be like that, too.

     This is partly due to a lack of perspective, but also
because these behaviors and traits become habits.  They
become an ingrained part of us.  We are blind to the
connection between the flaw and our need (which we aren't
that fully aware of in the first place), and how
counterproductive the flawed behavior is.  The same impulse
that led us to try this flawed coping strategy initially,
prompts us to do it again and again.  Until it's just a part
of who we are.

     And often times, when we don't meet with success with
this strategy, we will try harder.  We do it more often ...
bigger, "better" versions of the flawed strategy.

     Until finally, if we're lucky, we'll see that it's just
not working.  And out of exhaustion or desperation, try
something else.  Maybe the opposite, maybe something that
just seems more reasonable.

     We see this pattern in many comedies -- where the
character just keeps trotting out the same flawed strategy-behavior,
often increasing the effort level, until at last,
they either see the light, or just "give up," and either
intentionally or inadvertently do the right thing.  This is
the case in TOOTSIE, LIAR LIAR, and WHAT WOMEN WANT.  And
the pattern can be seen (to a lesser or more subtle extent)
in some serious films, too.

     So the Backstory or a Backstory Event usually creates
the Inner Need, and the Inner Need often gives rise to an
inappropriate, ironically counter-productive flaw that tends
to block the need (and often will hinder achievement of the
goal, as well).

     Sometimes, however, the Backstory or Backstory Event
that creates the Inner Need will simultaneously trigger the
Key Flaw.

     So the pattern can be:

     Backstory &/or BSE > Inner Need > Key Flaw

     Or:

     Backstory &/or BSE > Inner Need + Key Flaw

     Either way, the flaw is a kind of coping strategy, meant
to deal with the Need.  Or a defense tactic.  But if it ever
was effective, it has long since outlived its usefulness or
benefits.  And usually, it was an inappropriate response to
begin with.

     The Backstory/Backstory Event creates the Inner Need,
the Need triggers the Flaw (or sometimes it was created at
the same time as the Need), and the Flaw, while
subconsciously meant to cope with the unmet need, or even to
gain it, actually acts to block it.  That's the dynamic.

     Of course, as we've seen, the character doesn't realize
this.  Sometimes -- by the two-thirds or three-quarter point
of the story, or by the end -- the character *does* come to
realize this.  He or she becomes more aware of the need,
and/or of the flaw, and how it's hindering need and/or
desire (goal).  Other times, the character never seems to
fully grasp all this ... but changes nonetheless.  The flaw
is vanquished due to necessity, determination, and
willpower.  And thus the Need may come to be fulfilled.  Or,
it can be the other way around:  once the Need is fulfilled
(despite the flaw), the flaw just drops away.

     The above refers to stories where the character's arc is
such that he or she does, finally, vanquish the flaw and
achieve the Inner Need (in whichever order).  In tragedies
and character-declension stories, that doesn't occur.

     We've defined the Inner Need, noted its origins, and
seen its relationship with the Key Flaw.  But how does the
Need manifest itself in the character -- and the story?


(TO BE CONTINUED in Issue #16)

Copyright Jeff Newman, 2001

                     * * *  NOTICE  * * *

The 2001 Las Vegas Screenwriting Conference will take place
this July 12-15 at the Tropicana Hotel and Casino.  The list
of guests is unparalleled!  The opportunities are too good
to miss.  For details, go to:  http://vegasscript.com

                            *  *  *

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #14:

(This is a continuation of the
  article which began in Issue #12; see
  the online archive at yahoo-groups if
  you did not receive or save Issues 12-13:
  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter)


PART 3 (OF 3):

BACKSTORY AND THE


           * * *   B A C K S T O R Y   E V E N T   * * *



              BACKSTORY EVENT, INNER NEED, & KEY FLAW

     Quite often it is this troubling, sometimes haunting
Backstory Event that creates the character's Inner Need.  That is
(as described earlier), it leads the main character to feeling
incomplete in some way -- it causes a void, an emptiness, a lack
within the character.  Or it creates a kind of emotional,
psychological wound.

     And it is out of that unmet need and/or unhealed wound that
the Key Flaw is born, as a kind of would-be survival or defense
mechanism -- but which turns out to be counter-productive.

     Sometimes, the Backstory Event creates the Inner Need and the
Key Flaw at the same time.

     And of course, all of this relates to the Character Arc.  The
issue from the past must be resolved or overcome.  The void must
be filled, or the wound healed -- and the Key Flaw vanquished --
before this character can live a relatively happy life and
sustain healthy relationships.

                     ONE OF THE TOP TEN EVENTS?

     In the opening of this article, the statement was made that
some would consider a Backstory Event to be one of the ten most
important events in a story.

     While that's certainly not true of all movies, we can see
that it may be valid for many.  The top ten events would
generally include the Inciting Incident, the End of Act 1,
perhaps a key Midpoint scene, an event or two at the End of Act 2
(we're supposing a 3-Act structure here), and the Climax
Resolution.  And two or three other significant events --
complications, revelations, twists, major advances or setbacks --
that are crucial to the story.  Since story and plot are not
quite the same thing (the plot is the story as its been organized
and presented), it would often be the case that the initial event
of the story would be seen as extremely important to the story,
and yet the plot starts after that event.

     The fact that friendly aliens have landed on Earth (to
inspect our habitat and to collect plant samples) is certainly a
crucial story event in E.T. -- but it's the main-story BSE; the
plot begins after that point.  The fact that The Company has
directed the space barge to investigate an alien presence (and to
bring back samples -- the crew is expendable) could be considered
one of the most important events in ALIEN -- but it's the
Backstory Event.  It's not shown, or even revealed until late in
the film.

     In IN THE LINE OF FIRE, a rogue agent runs afoul of the CIA
and they try to kill him, and then he decides to kill the
president.  Those are certainly key story events, but in the
plot, they are Backstory Events.  The movie starts after that
point.

     The successful cloning of dinosaurs is a major story event in
JURASSIC PARK -- but when the movie starts, that's already
occurred (wisely).

     The same is true with ORDINARY PEOPLE, POLTERGEIST,
CASABLANCA, and THE MATRIX -- the foundational story events in
those films would likely be listed as one of the top ten events,
maybe even as one of the five most important events in the story.
And yet they are Backstory Events.  And effectively so.

     So it can indeed be argued that a Backstory Event is one of
the key story events -- maybe even one of the top ten events --
in many films.  At the very least, it's definitely a relevant and
significant event, and yet it happens prior to the start of the
movie.

                              SUMMARY

     For now:  consider providing your main character -- and your
story -- with a key Backstory Event.  In some ways it's like an
Inciting Incident or Catalyst -- one that happens *before* the
beginning of the film.  Doing this helps you get the movie
started more quickly, because now you're not starting at the very
beginning; you're jumping in a ways past that point.  Some
threads of the story are already in place.  You can enter "In Medias
Res" -- in the middle of things.  A further advantage:  it
allows you to end your first act within the first half-hour.

     Finally, the Backstory in general and a personal Backstory
Event enhance characterization.  By providing a sense of a past,
your character will seem more real, for when that is important.
In addition, your main character will likely be more complex,
more interesting, and more of an individual.

     It can also shed light as to why your character is the way he
is.  *A personal Backstory Event helps to explain your
character's beliefs, values, attitudes, goals, and actions*.  It
helps provide *motivation* for the goals set and the actions
taken by your main character.

     And the personal Backstory and Backstory Event relate to
Inner Need, Key Flaw, and Character Arc.  All of these are great
character-building tools, and their inclusion can greatly enrich
plot development and story structure.

     As long as you don't spend too much time just talking about
and verbally informing us about the Backstory and the key event
within it, this can be a wonderfully helpful aspect of character
and story to explore before you begin writing.

     You can have a personal Backstory Event, or one that is more
situational in nature -- a main-story BSE.  Or both,
simultaneously or separately.

     Think over ten of your favorite films.  Are there one or more
events from the main character's past that have influenced and
continue to affect that character?  Or a past event not directly
involving your main character (as yet) which has led to the
opening situation, or which will lead to the situation that forms
the basic concept of the story?  Or both -- a personal and a main-
story Backstory Event?

     It's likely you will see this in at least half of those
films, probably about two-thirds of them.  And in most of those
where you don't, chances are the equivalent to the Backstory
Event plays out in the opening scene or two, as a prologue.

     When developing your next screenplay story, consider whether
or not this could be helpful.  Most of the time, it's best not to
start at the very beginning of the story.  Consider starting *after*
a personal, Main-Character Backstory Event, or after a
Main-Story BSE.  Or both.

     Let the past be prologue to the present.  The odds are good
your story will be the better for it.

                            #  #  #


Copyright Jeff Newman, 2001


JEFF NEWMAN is a screenplay consultant -- rated #2 out of 17
script analysts reviewed and ranked by "Creative Screenwriting"
(March-April 1999).

Author's Note:  I now offer a $300 screenplay evaluation,
consisting of on-script notes, a tape recording elaborating on
the notes, 10 pages or more of written evaluation (6 pages or
more of written commentary, and a 4-page checklist), and a
follow-up phone consultation.

For details, and info on my other evaluation services, please see
my humble homepage:  http://www.storynotes.net

To read my bio, scroll down to the very bottom of the home page
and click on "Credentials."

There is also a "Testimonials" link -- feedback from some writers
who have used my evaluation services.  If you'd like, you may
call me in Los Angeles at (310) 715-6455.

To see other of my articles on screenwriting, go to:

  http://hollywoodnet.com/StoryNotes/films.html

  http://hollywoodnet.com/StoryNotes/board.html

  http://creativescreenwriting.com/storynotes/storynotes.html


                             *  *  *  *

SCREENPLAY CONTEST and HIGH-CONCEPT SEMINAR:

CONTEST

Screenplay.com and Scriptapalooza CALL FOR ENTRIES with a Grand
Prize of $25,000.

Scriptapalooza is currently accepting screenplay submissions for
its 3rd Annual Competition.  Deadline is April 16, 2001.  Visit
http://www.screenplay.com or http://www.scriptapalooza.com for
complete details.


A SEMINAR ON "HIGH CONCEPT"

Steve Kaire will conduct a "HIGH CONCEPT SEMINAR" in Los Angeles
on Saturday, April 28th.  Producer David Permut ("Face/Off")
said, "Steve Kaire is a one-man story department and a master at
creating potential blockbusters."

For more information go to:

  http://www.workspot.net/~stevekaire/


                             *  *  *  *


                      QUESTIONS?  COMMENTS?

     Suggestions?  Criticisms?  Compliments?  Caveats?

     I'd like to hear them.  If I think they would be of interest
to others, I'll post a special issue along with my replies.  Send
them to:  storynotes@...

     I hope you've found this article of interest, and that it
proves helpful in your present and future scripts.

                           * * * * *

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #13:


(This is a continuation of the
  article which began in Issue #12; see
  the online archive at yahoo-groups if
  you did not receive or save Issue 12:
  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter)


PART 2 (OF 3):


BACKSTORY AND THE


           * * *   B A C K S T O R Y   E V E N T   * * *


(The last issue just finished discussing "Backstory.")


                         BACKSTORY EVENT

     The Backstory *Event* is more specific.  It carries more
weight.  It could be a personal Backstory Event -- one
experienced by the main character, and which continues to
affect him.  Or it could be a situational Backstory Event for
the story as a whole.  In many movies there is both:  a personal
BSE (Backstory Event), and a situational, main-story BSE.

     Or, to put it another way, there are two main type of
Backstory Events:  a Main-Character BSE, and a Main-Story BSE.
Some movies have one, but not the other.  And some movies have
both.

     And sometimes the same event serves both purposes, as in
HAMLET.

                           PERSONAL BSE'S

     In terms of a personal Backstory Event:  It is a key event
from the past that continues to affect the main character --
usually in a negative way.  It continues to trouble, haunt, or
warp this character.  Or it's something that helped shape the
character's attitudes, outlook, and values.

     This key event is usually referred or alluded to at least
once.  Sometimes it's just hinted at; we have to infer it.  It
could have happened shortly before the start of the movie, or be
an event long past.  But it was an important influence, *a
formative, shaping event whose effect is still felt*.  Or, if
it's a very recent event, it may not be one that has shaped or
changed the character in a fundamental way, but rather acted as a
disturbance, affecting the character's mood, emotional state,
and/or outlook.  It can be a destabilizing, troubling event to
which the character has not yet adjusted.

     Occasionally, there are two or even three personal Backstory
Events, not one.  When that's the case, they are usually closely
related in some way.  And one usually takes precedence over the
others.  But the principle is the same.  Together, these events
reach out from the past to affect the emotions, attitudes, and
behavior of the main character.

     Let's consider a few general examples that could become the
basis for a personal Backstory Event.  Abandonment.  Betrayal.
An accident that left one permanently injured or disfigured -- or
with a guilty conscience.  Witnessing or experiencing an act of
violence.  The death of or separation from a loved one.  Or any
traumatic event.

     However, the event is not always that serious.  Instead, it
can be something that is less severe, but nonetheless disturbing
or disorienting in some way.  For instance, the decision by
Daniel's mother in THE KARATE KID to move to California was
clearly something that upset Daniel.  He's very unhappy with this
-- he's irritable and moody to his mom, and feels lonely in his
new surroundings -- but it's not a searing or catastrophic event.
Although in this case, it could be argued that another personal
Backstory Event -- the death of his father -- is something that
has affected him more deeply.  Daniel doesn't realize it, but
he needs and longs for a father figure.  And gets one, with
Mr. Miyagi.

     The personal Backstory Event is often an incident, event, or
situation that has created a sense of loss.  Or a psychological,
emotional wound.  As a result of this, the character often feels
empty in one particular way; some quality in his or her life is
lacking.  Or the character feels a lingering hurt.  If nothing
else, the character is troubled by it.

     In some movies, rather than one distinct personal Backstory
Event, there is some element or sustained period from the past
that performs the same function.  Some ongoing situation and/or
series of small events, taken together, accomplish the same thing
as one particular event.  It could be a parent who was
neglectful, abusive, unloving, or overly critical, strict, or
demanding.  Or a period of poverty, causing feelings of
insecurity, fear, or a sense of deprivation.  Perhaps the family
moved frequently from place to place.  This sort of influential,
ongoing situation from the past is basically equivalent to a
Backstory Event.

     So if having one personal Backstory Event (or several closely
related such events) doesn't seem right for a particular story,
then it's likely that there can be a certain focus to the general
backstory which is roughly equivalent.

     Such is the case with movies like THE FIRM (the main
character is eager to compensate for a materially deprived
childhood), NOTTING HILL (the actress is fed up with emotionally
unstable people, phonies, and users), and BACK TO THE FUTURE.  In
that movie, Marty has "inherited" his father's lack of confidence
and self-esteem, and he is fed up with his family's
underachieving, loser mentality.  So while there is no one key
personal Backstory Event in that film, there's still a focus to
the personal backstory which accomplishes the same thing.  And
there is a main-story BSE:  the fact that Doc has just finished
his latest and biggest invention:  a time machine.

     In AMERICAN BEAUTY there is again no particular personal
Backstory Event, but rather a long and gradual period of
compromise and acceptance of superficial values, leading to their
present empty, miserable, and superficial lives.  Thus, there is
an aspect and a focus to the personal backstory that is
equivalent to a personal, particular Backstory Event.  It's a
series of small events, rather than one or two big ones.  In a
sense, those small events relating to a certain aspect of their
lives, that overall, ongoing situation from the past, can be
thought of as adding up to a kind of collective personal
Backstory Event.

     Whether it's one particular key event, two or three closely
related such events, or an ongoing situation, a personal
Backstory Event (or Events) refers to something in the far or
recent past that has shaped or at least influenced the
character's attitudes and emotional make-up, and thus continues
to affect him or her.

                          MAIN-STORY BSE'S

     The other kind of Backstory Event is usually less personal,
and may not (at the time) involve the main character at all.
It's an event that affects the overall situation, and which helps
to set up the story as a whole.  Thus, it can be called a "Main-
story" Backstory Event.

     Examples of situational Backstory Events -- ones that help
set up the opening state of affairs, or the story's concept:  a
criminal's scheme -- the idea, plans, and preparation took place
earlier, and are about to be acted upon.  A meteor hurtling
toward Earth.  The outbreak of a war.  A feud, rivalry, or
animosity between two groups.  A scientist who has been long
working on, or even just made, an important discovery.  A journey
has been planned and prepared for, and is about to commence.  A
supernatural curse has been leveled against an individual or a
town.  A long-ago injustice or crime that may now result in
efforts at revenge.  A new job has been sought, an offer
accepted, and the character is about to begin his first day.

                           SOME EXAMPLES

     Let's look at some movies which refer to a personal event
that continues to influence, trouble, or warp the protagonist, or
which mention an event that has led to the opening situation, or
which will lead to the story concept.

     In other words, let's consider some personal and situational
Backstory Events -- Main-Character and Main-Story BSE's -- from
some well-known films.

     When Kane was torn from his family as a child, the loss of
that love, warmth, and close family -- the sense of abandonment
-- shaped him at the time and left a lasting influence on his
attitudes and actions.  CITIZEN KANE becomes both a detective
story searching for the meaning of his last dying word, and a
study of a man who takes the wrong path in searching for love and
security -- which he does largely due to the Backstory Event.

     In ORDINARY PEOPLE, it's the boating accident.  Conrad is
plagued by the loss of his brother and by his sense of survivor
guilt, sharpened by a feeling that there possibly was something
he could have done to save his brother.

     In CASABLANCA, Rick has become a political and emotional
isolationist as a result of his experience with Ilsa in Paris.
Her leaving him (and his not knowing why) is the Main-Character
Backstory Event.

     There is a rich Backstory in RAIN MAN.  Charlie Babbitt's
difficult relationship with his father, and, forgotten by
Charlie, the existence and removal of his autistic brother
Raymond.  The estrangement from his father is the key Backstory
Event, since it's continued to affect Charlie's attitudes and
actions ever since.

     In THE MATRIX, the main Backstory Event is situational, not
personal.  It is an event that is unknown by the main character
at first, although it certainly did affect him, along with
everyone else.  The period when humans were disconnected from
reality and programmed to exist within the cyber-world of the
Matrix is a huge and powerful event with immense and still-lasting
repercussions.  But it doesn't happen at the beginning of
the movie; it's the Backstory Event.

     In POLTERGEIST, the Backstory Event is again situational:
the decision by the development company to build a housing tract
atop a cemetery -- moving only the gravestones, but not the
graves.  This is a "hidden" Backstory Event.  It not only is
unknown to the main character, it isn't revealed to the character
or the audience until late in the film.

     In LETHAL WEAPON, it's the death of Riggs' wife, and the
manic-depression that it has triggered in him, including suicidal
impulses.

     In JERRY MAGUIRE, it's Jerry's crisis of conscience, which
leads him to compose The Memo in the opening scene.

     In CHINATOWN, Gittes is still troubled by his good intentions
leading to disaster in an old case that culminated in the
Chinatown district.  Of course, there's a situational Backstory
Event, too -- relating to a conspiracy and scheme involving water
rights.

     In L.A. CONFIDENTIAL, there are three Backstory Events.  For
one cop -- the smart, ambitious one -- it's the fact that his
father was killed in the line of duty.  For the cop who goes
ballistic when he sees a woman being hurt, we learn that his
father not only beat his mother, but -- when he tried to
interfere as a child -- his father chained him to a radiator and
the boy watched his father kill his mother. The third event,
revealed in the first moments of the film, is of a situational
nature:  the death of the L.A. mobster, and the power vacuum it
has created.  So this film features two personal Backstory Events
-- one for each of the two main characters -- and one situational
BSE, for the story as a whole.

     In many films, the loss of one or both parents through death,
abandonment, removal of the child from the family, or due to
divorce creates a void or need in the life of a protagonist.
This can be seen in STAR WARS, WIZARD OF OZ, KARATE KID, BEAUTY
AND THE BEAST, BATMAN, CAPTAINS COURAGEOUS, CITIZEN KANE, and
E.T.  Or it could be the loss of a spouse, as with SLEEPLESS IN
SEATTLE, WITNESS, and LETHAL WEAPON.

     But remember, it doesn't have to be a tragic or traumatic
incident.  In DIE HARD, the separation and estrangement of the
married couple due to career conflicts serves nicely as a
personal Backstory Event.  And in that movie, as in many others,
there are two Backstory Events.  The villain's scheme is the
situational, main-story BSE -- prior to the start of the movie,
he's come up with the idea and planned for it.  In the middle of
Act 1, it starts to go into effect when he and his henchman begin
to take over the office building.

                          IT'S NOT A RULE!

     Not every movie has a defining Backstory Event.  Those that
don't, usually do have a sense of past, a general Backstory to
give your character a sense of reality, of having a history.

     That's the case with JAWS.  There's a bit of backstory in
regard to the sheriff and his family, but no one distinctive
event other than the fact that they moved there a few years ago
(despite his fear of water, since he can't swim).  And there's no
situational BSE, unless it's the fact that a hungry shark with a
taste for human flesh has swum into Amity's coast.  For all
intents and purposes, the story starts with the Inciting Incident
-- the shark attack on the young woman, in the first two minutes
of the film.  And that movie did just fine at the box office.

     In those relatively few movies were there is no important
Backstory Event -- neither a Main-Character one, nor a Main-Story
one -- then the Inciting Incident almost always happens very
soon.  Usually within the first three or four minutes.

     Some light comedies don't need much Backstory, much less a
Backstory Event.  With action pictures, it is optional --
although when used well, as in DIE HARD and LETHAL WEAPON, it
certainly adds texture and emotional substance to the film.

     And another variation, as we've seen, is having an ongoing
situation of a particular sort in a character's past, instead of
one or two particular personal Backstory Events.

     In CLIFFHANGER and VERTIGO, the Backstory Events are shown in
the beginning of the movie, as a kind of prologue.  In some
others, the Backstory Event is also played out in the beginning,
but in a very condensed fashion -- in selective bits and pieces,
at an accelerated pace, as in THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION and THE
FUGITIVE.

     Occasionally, the Backstory Event is depicted later in the
film, as a flashback.  This occurs in CASABLANCA, CITIZEN KANE,
and BATMAN (to name a rather diverse threesome).



(TO BE CONTINUED in Issue #14)

(In the next issue:  The relationship of the Backstory Event to
the "Inner Need" and the "Key Flaw" ... Also:  "One of the Top
Ten Events?" (explains why), and "Summary."


Copyright Jeff Newman, 2001


Notice #1 -- SCREENPLAY EVALUATIONS:

For information on "StoryNotes Screenplay Evaluations" by Jeff
Newman (author of these articles), go to:

http://www.storynotes.net


Notice #2 -- SCREENPLAY CONTEST:

Screenplay.com and Scriptapalooza CALL FOR ENTRIES with a Grand
Prize of $25,000.


Scriptapalooza is currently accepting screenplay submissions for
its 3rd Annual Competition.  Deadline is April 16, 2001.  Visit
http://www.screenplay.com or http://www.scriptapalooza.com for
complete details.


Notice #3 -- A SEMINAR ON "HIGH CONCEPT":

Steve Kaire will conduct a "HIGH CONCEPT SEMINAR" in Los Angeles
on Saturday, April 28th.  Producer David Permut ("Face/Off")
said, "Steve Kaire is a one-man story department and a master at
creating potential blockbusters."

For more information go to:

  http://www.workspot.net/~stevekaire/


                             *  *  *  *

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #12:


One of the most important events in most movies is often not depicted
onscreen!  It's something that happens before the movie's opening
scene.  In fact, often there are *two* Backstory Events, each of a
slightly different nature.

The following 3-part article discusses the Backstory Event.


(Due to its length, this article will be sent in three parts.
Thus, it will comprise Issues #12-#14.)

(You may prefer to cut-and-paste the two e-mail installments into
a word processing document -- Word, WordPerfect, Works, etc.  It
should then be easy to make the page breaks come out properly, in
case you wish to print it out.  I suggest a left margin of 1.5"
or 2.0", depending on the font.)

(To see back issues of the StoryNotesNewsletter, go
to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter ... scroll
down past "Search Archive" and, to start with Issue 1, click on
the "4" in the box for Oct 2000.)


PART 1 (OF 3):


BACKSTORY AND THE


           * * *   B A C K S T O R Y   E V E N T   * * *



     Sometimes it's best not to start your story at the very
beginning.  It's often preferable to let at least one relevant,
pertinent event happen *before* "Fade in."  In fact, it can be
argued that of the ten most important events in a story, one of
them usually occurs prior to "page one."

     There are three reasons for this.

                      A CATALYST FROM THE PAST

     1.  *A rolling start is easier and more effective than
beginning from a dead stop.*

     Usually the opening scenes are more effective if we aren't
beginning from a position of complete rest.  It's too static.
When there's no initial conflict, no pre-existing problem, and

basically happy, well-adjusted characters, all that harmony and
stability may lack interest.  It's better if something of
significance has already happened.

     Often a story will begin with one or more of the main
characters just slightly off-balance in terms of his or her
emotional state or life situation.  Something different has
happened recently, and the character is still adjusting to it.

     Other times, something has happened elsewhere -- perhaps
unknown to the character -- but it will soon come to greatly
affect him or her.

     In a way, this event from the past is like a pre-opening
Inciting Incident.  It's a foundational event which either
disrupted the status quo, or has planted the seeds for the
disruption, which will happen soon.

     This "Pre-Fade-in Inciting Incident" could be a change in the
family (due to marriage, divorce, birth, or death), a new job, a
move to a new place, a villain's scheme, the near-completion of a
long-sought goal, an event that created a desire for revenge or a
need for healing, the advent of hard times, or any event or
events that led to or will soon lead to a changed state of
affairs.

     By starting sometime past the actual beginning, the story is
already moving.  The audience sees characters striving, reacting,
adjusting.  The audience is challenged and intrigued.  Questions
arise at several points during the early scenes.  "Now what's
going on here?"  "Why is this kid so grouchy?"  "Why are these
two angry with one another?"  "What was *that* all about?"

     These questions stimulate curiosity, and promote a sense of
anticipation as to learning the answers.  It allows the audience
to play a more active role -- making assumptions, inferences,
guesses ... filling in the blanks.  They feel smarter, more
involved.

     So a significant, story-related event (or two) that occurs
prior to the start of the film helps the movie get off to a
running start -- or at least a brisk walk.  This produces not just
a faster start, but a more energetic one, and increases audience
involvement.

                      A MORE SHAPELY FIRST ACT

     2.  *Act 1 can be kept to a more reasonable length.*

     Having at least one key event happen prior to the start of
the film allows the first act to stay at a more reasonable
length; we can get to the End of Act One Event within 30 minutes.

     If we had to see Rose get engaged to the rich snob, and her
mother booking passage on the Titanic, Act 1 of TITANIC would
simply be too lengthy.  It would take too long to get past the
setup, to the start of the real story -- the journey, the central
relationship, and the main conflicts and problems.

     In HAMLET, there are three closely related foundational
events that occur prior to the beginning of the play.  Hamlet's
father, the king of Denmark, dies (later, Hamlet learns that it
was murder).  The king's brother is chosen to be the new king,
rather than Hamlet.  And Hamlet's mother remarries -- within a
month of her husband's death -- to the new king.  All of this
sends Hamlet into a state of melancholy, which is where we find
him at the actual start of the play.

     In E.T., the alien ship has already landed, and the aliens
have already disembarked.

     In A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE, Blanche has already gotten in
trouble, and has already left her home town in order to pay a
surprise visit to her sister (in hopes of staying with her).

     In HOME ALONE, the decision to go on a vacation to Europe has
already been made, the tickets purchased, etc.

     In the play OEDIPUS REX, Oedipus -- who didn't know he was
adopted -- has already killed the man whom he later learns was
his father, and already married the woman he later learns was his
mother.

     In HONEY I SHRUNK THE KIDS, the dad has already completed his
new invention.

     In RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, we learn that the bad guys are
already searching for the Ark, and have already found the lost
city where it is located.

     If the creators of all those movies and plays had elected to
depict those events, the first acts would have been too lengthy.
It would have taken too long to get to the heart of the story.

     Psychologically, the audience -- due to conditioning or
natural inclination -- wants most of the setup to be over and
most aspects of the Main Conflict and Central Situation to be
underway by about the half-hour point.  Allowing one or a few
story-starting events to have occurred earlier allows us to do
that.

                   CHARACTERIZATION & MOTIVATION

     3.  *Main characters can be more complex, believable, and
motivated.*

     A person with a past is more realistic and interesting than

someone who seems to have no past.  And since we are partially a
product of our experiences, we can use the past to explain and
motivate some of the attitudes and behavior of our main
character.  The "past" in question can be one or more events that
happened years ago, or very recently.

     This would seem to be common sense.  And yet, in screenplay
after screenplay, readers come across protagonists who have no
emotional baggage, no memories, no formative influences.

     In far too many lesser movies and unproduced screenplays, the
main character seems to have just suddenly started to exist.
They seem to have been born yesterday.  Or even worse, on page
one (or whichever page they first appear).  They have been
created out of thin air.

     A main character with no past lacks complexity and
believability.  Real people don't just spring into being -- we
are born, and then are shaped by people, places, and events.
It's the cumulative events from our past that have influenced our
values and attitudes.  Even, to a degree, our personality.

     Not that a great amount of time will be spent talking about
that past in most good screenplays.  No.  Just a few hints now
and then.  One or two salient events will be explicitly
mentioned, but generally not at great length.

     Nor do you, the writer, need to create a hugely detailed
personal history.  But you should have at least a rough idea --
with a few specifics.

     A main character with no memories or formative past will
probably be lackluster and implausible.  The character will lack
the strong drives necessary to animate his attitudes and give
impetus to his objectives.  Events or situations from the past
help to create the motivational push that augments the attractive
pull provided by the goal.  These past events or situations may
also have created an Inner Need and/or a Key Flaw, which allow
for inner conflict and character growth.

     All in all, with one or more Backstory Events, your main
character will be more dimensional, more interesting, more
believable, and more motivated.

     For all these reasons, it's best to think about some
Backstory.

                             BACKSTORY

     The general Backstory of a movie is all the events relating
to the main characters and/or to the basic situation that
occurred before the start of the movie.  Some of these events may
be referred to, but they are rarely shown, since they took place
before the Fade In.

     So Backstory is what happened to your main characters before
the movie began -- *especially those events that have something
to do with the present story*.

     The general Backstory may also include those events that gave
rise to the opening situation or the soon-to-occur Big Problem
and/or Opportunity.  For instance, the feud in ROMEO AND JULIET
between the Montagues and the Capulets.  The flawed design and
building of the Titanic.  The conflict between the republican
rebels and the Imperial forces, and the initial intercepting of
the Death Star plans, in STAR WARS.


(TO BE CONTINUED in Issue #13)

(In the next issue:  "The Backstory EVENT," "Personal Backstory
Events," "Main-story BSE's," "Examples" -- citing numerous
films -- and "Exceptions.")


Copyright Jeff Newman, 2001


Notice #1 -- SCREENPLAY CONTEST:

Screenplay.com and Scriptapalooza CALL FOR ENTRIES with a Grand
Prize of $25,000.

Scriptapalooza is currently accepting screenplay submissions for
its 3rd Annual Competition.  Deadline is April 16, 2001.  Visit
http://www.screenplay.com or http://www.scriptapalooza.com for
complete details.


Notice #2 -- A SEMINAR ON "HIGH CONCEPT":

Steve Kaire will conduct a "HIGH CONCEPT SEMINAR" in Los Angeles
on Saturday, April 28th.  Producer David Permut ("Face/Off")
said, "Steve Kaire is a one-man story department and a master at
creating potential blockbusters."

For more information go to:

  http://www.workspot.net/~stevekaire/


Notice #3 -- SCREENPLAY EVALUATIONS:

For information on "StoryNotes Screenplay Evaluations" by Jeff
Newman (author of these articles), go to:

http://www.storynotes.net


                             *  *  *  *

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #11:

(This is a continuation of the
  article which began in Issue #10; see
  the online archive at yahoo-groups if
  you did not receive or save Issue 10:
  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter)


PART 2 (OF 2):


                * * *   K E Y   F L A W   * * *



                     EXAMPLES OF KEY FLAWS

     BACK TO THE FUTURE:  Marty lacks confidence in his ability to
pursue his passion (music).  He needs to get rid of the "I can't"
philosophy he inherited from his dad, and learn to take the risks
necessary to gain a chance of success.

     ON THE WATERFRONT:  Terry goes along with injustice because
he feels that in this world you must "Do it to the other guy
before he does it to you."

     KARATE KID:  Daniel acts rashly without thinking things
through.  He needs to consider possible outcomes of his actions,
and realize that appearances and reality are not always the same.
In short, his thinking is too limited; he doesn't see beneath the
surface, or beyond the moment.

     TOOTSIE:  Michael Dorsey is not an honest person, especially
with women.  Those he finds attractive he pretty much views only
as sex objects, and is willing to lie, manipulate, and take
advantage of them in order to score.  Significantly, he has no
lasting relationship.  And this same "Me" attitude has damaged
his career, as well.

     MACBETH:  Ruthless ambition.  Ambition is well and good, but
he is willing to commit illegal and cruel deeds to attain his
ambitious goals.

     ROMEO AND JULIET:  Romeo is rash.  He has a tendency to act
without thinking, for being reckless.  It tends to either get him
into trouble, or, once in, to deepen that trouble.

     THE CLIENT:  Mark Sway is unable to accept help, even when
it's sincerely offered and when he badly needs it.  He cannot
succeed until he realizes how this continues to hold him back.

     GHOST:  Here it's simply the man's inability to express his
love in words.

     TITANIC:  Rose needs to be more self-assertive.  She has
several weakness – she lacks hope, self-confidence, courage, and
clarity, which together would allow her to escape the stifling
constraints of high society, and the loveless, controlling
marriage for money that she is about to enter.  But the main
thing she must overmaster is her timidity of thought, which has
been holding her back, keeping her down.  It's mainly due to
cultural conditioning, but until she overcomes it, she won't
escape her "prison."  Jack, through his love for her and by his
own example, helps her to do that.

     Often, no one fault or weakness stands out.  Several traits
and/or errors in thinking are holding the character back,
providing internal conflict.  When that's the case, usually these
two or three flaws are somewhat related, and are acting together
to create a problem or hold the character back.

     STAR WARS:  Luke at first lacks the self-confidence to join
with the Rebellion.  Related to this is a skepticism that he
could make any difference.

     Later, it's his lack of trust in himself, his potential, and
in the ways of The Force that holds him back or endangers him,
his friends, and the cause.  At the end of the first movie,
Obi-Wan must urge him to use the Force, to trust.

     And in the second movie, Yoda points out that it's his lack
of trust, his lack of belief that he can tap into the Force
sufficiently, that is leading to his failures.

     HAMLET:  Once again, there are several flaws or weaknesses,
none of which predominate.  Hamlet has been sheltered.  He has
been seeing the world through rose-colored glasses.  Events and
discoveries have ripped these glasses off, and he cannot cope
with what he sees.  The key fault, perhaps, is a lack of
*balance*.

     Before, he saw the world and people as better than they were,
now he sees them as worse than they are.  He lacks a balanced
view.

     He has no balance between thought and action.  First he
considers too much without taking action:  paralysis by analysis.
And when he *does* act, it's often rashly, without thinking.

     He can't find the balance between thought and passion.  He is
overly analytical *and* overly emotional.  They work against each
other, and tear him apart.

     Hamlet is an unbalanced person, full of extremes.  "The time
is out of joint," he says.  But so is he.

     And going from the sublime to the ridiculous:

     HOME ALONE:  Kevin's flaws:  He's overly fearful and
helpless.  Again, the two flaws are related, and they combine to
keep him weak.

     And often it's not just the main character who has a Key Flaw
(or two).  Sometimes the same or a similar flaw, weakness, or
error in thinking is shared by the antagonist – who usually
doesn't come to recognize the flaw, or at any rate to eliminate
it.  Or, the antagonist's flaw may be the exact opposite of the
main character's flaw.  Frequently, there is a correlation.

     And often a major secondary character has a different flaw.
Together, the two characters help each other to fulfill their
needs and to conquer their flaws.

     In PRETTY WOMAN, as in many romances, both persons exert a
positive influence on the other.

     In KARATE KID, Mr. Miyagi – due to the death years earlier of
his wife and infant son – has a fear of becoming close to anyone.
In helping Daniel, Mr. Miyagi overcomes his own fear.

                    THE ORIGINS OF THE FLAW

     What gives rise to the Key Flaw?

     Sometimes the Inner Need (the internal void or wound)
provokes the flaw.  The frustration, emptiness, or pain felt due
to the unmet Inner Need may give rise to an error of thinking
and/or behaving – the Key Flaw.  It's a response to the Need –
but an inappropriate response.  It's a kind of "acting out," a
misguided, knee-jerk reaction.  And while the Flaw may be a
reaction to the unmet Inner Need, it can, ironically, be
counter-productive; it can act as an obstacle to the Inner Need,
and/or to the Goal.

     For instance, someone who craves friendship (need) but is
afraid of rejection (flaw) may unknowingly adopt behavior –
sarcasm, perhaps – that is offensive or unpleasant to others.
Thus, the individual rejects others before they are able to
reject him.  But it's self-defeating, since his sarcasm is an
obstacle to friendship.

     Similarly, a student from a dysfunctional home may need adult
acceptance and nurturing, but instead, due to repressed anger
from his home situation, he misbehaves in class, thus receiving
anger and disapproval from the teacher.  The flaw works against
the Inner Need.

     Sometimes, however, rather than being an inappropriate,
counter-productive response to an unmet Inner Need, a significant
Backstory Event may create the Inner Need and the Key Flaw at pretty
much the same time.  It's flexible.

                            SUMMARY

     So ... you might want to examine some of your favorite
movies.  In most, the main character(s) will have not just one,
but several flaws, weaknesses, or errors in thinking.

     In some of these movies, one of these flaws will stand out,
and become the thematically important Key Flaw.

     In others, all the flaws will be pretty much equal, and
together will play an important role.  That is, sometimes two or
three flaws, acting as a unit, create a problem for their main
characters, and/or hold them back in terms of fulfilling an Inner
Need and/or achieving a goal.

     What about the characters in *your* upcoming screenplay?

     Are there one or two traits or errors in thinking that
frequently trip them up and jeopardize their success?  Could
there be a goal- and/or theme-relevant flaw?

     A Key Flaw can humanize your character.  It can make him or
her more plausible, and more interesting.  It's one way to give
your character more dimension.

     And it can help to unify your story.  It can make the events
of your story seem less random – by tying the flaw into goal
and/or theme, by associating this flaw with the Inner Need, and
by making the defeat of the flaw (in movies with positive
endings) part of the Character Arc.  Thus, character, plot, and
theme become more intertwined.

     Giving your main character a Key Flaw may be one of the keys
to screenplay success.

                            #  #  #


Copyright Jeff Newman, 2001


JEFF NEWMAN is a screenplay consultant -- rated #2 out of 17
script analysts reviewed and ranked by "Creative Screenwriting"
(March-April 1999).

Author's Note:  I now offer a $300 screenplay evaluation,
consisting of on-script notes, a tape recording elaborating on
the notes, 10 pages or more of written evaluation (6 pages or
more of written commentary, and a 4-page checklist), and a
follow-up phone consultation.

For details, and info on my other evaluation services, please see my
humble homepage:  http://www.storynotes.net

To read my bio, scroll down to the very bottom of the home page
and click on "Credentials."

There is also a "Testimonials" link -- feedback from some writers
who have used my evaluation services.  If you'd like, you may
call me in Los Angeles at (310) 715-6455.

To see other of my articles on screenwriting, go to:

  http://hollywoodnet.com/StoryNotes/films.html

  http://hollywoodnet.com/StoryNotes/board.html

  http://creativescreenwriting.com/storynotes/storynotes.html


                             *  *  *  *

                      QUESTIONS?  COMMENTS?

     Suggestions?  Criticisms?  Compliments?  Caveats?

     I'd like to hear them.  If I think they would be of interest
to others, I'll post a special issue along with my replies.  Send
them to:  storynotes@...

     I hope you've found this article of interest, and that it
proves helpful in your present and future scripts.

                           * * * * *

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #10:


Among a main character's weaknesses and flaws, one particular
flaw is usually more significant.

The following article defines this primary flaw, examines its
origin, and demonstrates how it relates to Inner Need, Character
Arc, Theme, and Goal.


(Due to its length, this article will be sent in two parts.
Thus, it will comprise Issues #10 & #11.)

(You may prefer to cut-and-paste the two e-mail installments into
a word processing document -- Word, WordPerfect, Works, etc.  It
should then be easy to make the page breaks come out properly, in
case you wish to print it out.  I suggest a left margin of 1.5"
or 2.0", depending on the font.)

(To see back issues of the StoryNotesNewsletter, go
to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter ... scroll
down past "Search Archive" and, to start with Issue 1, click on
the "4" in the box for Oct 2000.)


PART 1 (OF 2):


SHINING A SPOTLIGHT ON THE


                  * * *   K E Y   F L A W   * * *


OF YOUR MAIN CHARACTER


     "He would be so much happier if he weren't so manipulative."
     "She could accomplish much more if she weren't afraid of
criticism."
     "He needs to learn how to get along with others."
     "She doesn't think she deserves success."
     "Too bossy."
     "Not a team player."
     "So belligerent."
     "Overly confident."
     "Must learn to change with the times."
     "Has to stop holding that grudge."
     "Needs a dose of self-confidence."

     The evaluations of employers, teachers, and coaches, the
insights of friends – even the gossip of peers – often zero
in on the primary character trait (and its accompanying behavior)
which is largely responsible for holding a person back.  They see
with great clarity the primary fault, foible, or weakness which
sabotages that person's success with friends, romance, goals,
dreams, and vocation.  And which often results in unhappiness and
frustration.

     As with real life, so, too, with stories for the page, stage,
and screen.

     Among a main character's several weaknesses and flaws, there
tends to be one particular flaw which is more significant to the
story than the others.  The flaw doesn't exist in isolation.  Far
from it.  It often relates to the main character's primary goal
by making it more difficult for the character to achieve it.
This flaw impedes the character's efforts.  It acts as an
internal generator of obstacles.  Due to the flaw, the character
trips himself up.

     This "Key Flaw" may also relate to theme.  Frequently one of
the themes of the story relates to a particular shortcoming of
the main character – such as excessive mistrust, emotional
isolationism, dishonesty, rash behavior, etc.

     As often as not, the flaw is pertinent to both goal *and*
theme.

     The flaw usually is related to a character's "Inner Need" –
that within the character which is incomplete or which needs
healing.  This Key Flaw often arises as a result of this unmet
Inner Need, or due to a troubling Backstory Event.

     And the Key Flaw also relates to the Character Arc – how the
protagonist often changes and grows throughout the movie.  Much
of that growth, if positive, is due to the realization of the
void or wound within and of the crippling, self-defeating nature
of the Key Flaw.

     The Key Flaw, Character Arc, Inner Need, and Theme all work
together to make the events and elements of the story seem more
cohesive and unified, and to make the story as a whole seem more
significant.  In particular, these elements help to link plot,
character, and theme.

     These are some rather sweeping assertions.  They demand
explanation and proof.  So ... here goes.

                    WELL-ROUNDED CHARACTERS

     Protagonists with just one or two character traits are little
more than stick figures.  Most protagonists possess a number of
character attributes.  And they are a mixture – a major character
who is all good or all bad is not very credible or interesting.

     Most protagonists have several positive traits (for example:
loyal, charming, brave, determined), several neutral traits
(traits that are neither good nor bad, but merely distinctive,
such as being shy, outgoing, relaxed, cautious, methodical,
etc.), and two or three negative traits (for example:
hot-tempered, overly-trusting, rash, selfish, impatient,
materialistic, blaming, etc.)

     One of the protagonist's negative traits often stands out,
however.  It is more important than the rest in terms of plot,
character growth, and theme.  We could call that negative trait
the *Key Flaw.*

     The Key Flaw is the one flaw among the character's several
weaknesses and faults that is most important, because it is the
one getting in the way of achieving the goal, and it is working
against filling the void or the need in the character's life.
It's an internal enemy; a character-based Achilles' heel.

     The Key Flaw is akin to the Tragic Flaw of the old Greek and
Shakespearean tragedies, sometimes called the Fatal Flaw.  It was
the flaw or element of the protagonist's character that was
largely responsible for the character's downfall.

     The Tragic Flaw was often a trait such as an excessive
Temper, Ambition, Pride, Hesitancy, Arrogance, Recklessness.
They were blemishes that in another situation, might have been
merely troublesome, not ruinous.  Occasionally it could be seen
how in another situation, these traits could even have been
desirable.  But in this set of circumstances, they led to
disaster.

     The Key Flaw is similar, but since most movies today are not
tragedies, an important difference exists:  the Key Flaw has the
*potential* to be fatal or produce failure.

     If we wish to have the movie end on a positive note, then we
give the protagonist the chance and ability to learn from his or
her mistakes, to see the light, and to overcome this weakness by
controlling it or eliminating it.

     In normal times, the flaw might be only mildly disturbing and
disruptive to their lives.  In times of crisis, however – such as
what happens during most movies – the flaw looms larger.  It
threatens to destroy the protagonist.  Or at least, to sabotage
the success in gaining the goal and/or fulfilling the need.
Thus, it is counter-productive to the needs and desires of the
main character.  But for a time, the character does not see that.
And when he or she finally does, the character cannot easily and
immediately correct or control the flaw.

     As mentioned earlier, the Key Flaw is, in a way, an internal
enemy.  It's a source of internal obstacles and self-generated
problems – thus adding to the overall conflict.  It often causes
the main character to not only make mistakes, but to act badly –
in a way that is unfair, cruel, or harmful to others.  Or at
least annoying, frustrating, and off-putting.

     Sometimes the Key Flaw is not so much a negative character
trait as a flawed idea – a mistaken belief that needs to be
changed.

     Sometimes it's nothing more than a fear.  It depends on the
genre and your story.

     The Key Flaw is a limiting, self-defeating, misery-producing
aspect of character that *must be overcome in order to achieve
the goal and to fill one's Need*.  The character must realize he
or she has this flaw and see how it is destructive and/or wrong,
and extinguish it.  Or at the very least, learn how to control
it.


(TO BE CONTINUED in Issue #11)

(IN THE NEXT ISSUE:  "Examples of Key Flaws" – citing numerous
films.  Also:  "Origins of the Flaw.")


Copyright Jeff Newman, 2001


Note:  I now offer a $300 evaluation.  It consists of on-script
notes, a tape recording elaborating on the notes, 10 pages or
more of written evaluation (6 pages or more of written
commentary, and a 4-page checklist) and a follow-up phone
consultation.

For more information, or for info on my other services, please
see my homepage ( http://www.storynotes.net ).

                             *  *  *  *

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #9:

(This is a continuation of the
  article which began in Issue #8; see
  the online archive at yahoo-groups if
  you did not receive or save Issue 8:
  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter)


PART 2 (OF 2):


IS THERE AT LEAST ONE


              * * *   C H A R A C T E R  A R C   * * *


IN YOUR STORY?


                           HOW IT HAPPENS

     Change – whether minor or major – doesn't just happen on
its own.

     Change results from the experiences, interactions, and
difficulties that the main character goes through.  Taken together,
the events of the story act as a kind of ordeal – a crucible.  The
experience becomes a stimulus for change.

     He or she is forced, or afforded the opportunity, to view
things from a different perspective – and to witness and hear
other points of view and beliefs.  The character must think
things through that otherwise he or she probably would not have.

     This process includes setting priorities and making difficult
decisions – sometimes moral decisions and dilemmas.  For instance,
the character may have to decide between two desirable but mutually
exclusive desires, goals, needs, or values.  Or between two courses
of action where both options are bad.

     The character must take actions and undergo challenges that
otherwise wouldn't have occurred; he or she must rise to the
occasion, and often will do more than he or she once may have
thought possible.

     Along the way there will be some realizations – about others,
about beliefs or the way life or society works, and about self.

     All of this, together, acts as a major learning and growth
experience.

     For instance, struggle and adversity will often cause a
character to grow both tougher and more sensitive (more able to
empathize with the difficulties and sufferings of others).  Also
smarter.  More self-confident.

     Hardship, challenges, and dilemmas usually force a character to
summon up wit, courage, inner strength, and more.

     In a well-written story, the nature of the new experiences and
the conflict will be matched up with an appropriate character.

     If you, the writer, are starting the story-creation process
with a particular character that you find fascinating, you'll
select a situation, surrounding characters,  and conflicts that
will challenge the character, and which will tap into that
character's hopes, fears, dreams, needs, skills, and flaws.

     The situation and conflicts may be seen as unwanted and
burdensome by the character – perhaps even fearsome and
traumatic.  But they may be just what is needed to prompt
long-term growth.  The events of the story are like a bitter
medicine that can lead to improved health, the pain that can
lead to gain.

     If you're starting with a concept, you'll do the same thing but
in reverse:  design a character who will be challenged and
ultimately altered by the circumstances of your story – by the
specific aspects of the main problem or situation, and the various
trials and tribulations that will accompany it.

     As a result of this careful match-up of situation and
character, the character may change in one or more significant
ways.  For instance, an important Inner Need may be fulfilled, and
in addition, the character may also be more self-confident, have a
better self-image, and be braver, tougher, and more resourceful
than before.  In other words, there can be one big, pertinent
change, and several minor changes due to the overall experience.

     The nature of the conflict, the interactions with other
characters, certain specific events, and the overall experiences
combine to cause a character to recognize and confront unmet needs,
unhealed wounds, and/or flaws, or to gain other important insights
into self, others, or about life.

     Thus, even though the situation may not have been sought or
welcomed, it often acts as a hidden opportunity.  By enduring the
storm clouds of stress and struggle, the silver lining of personal
growth and positive life change can be attained.

     Of course, as was noted earlier, character change isn't always
for the better.  Sometimes these same stresses and challenges can
combine with various temptations and/or pressures, and a character
will change in a negative way.  We see examples of character
deterioration in THE GODFATHER and in GOODFELLAS – and in
MACBETH.  Also in Captains Ahab, Bligh, and Queeg.  Power, Greed,
Need, Hatred, and Fear often prove to be corrupting influences to
those who aren't sufficiently strong of will and grounded in
positive values.

     So we've looked at the types of changes that can occur, and at
the causes for this change.

     That leads us to another question.  Why are we fascinated with
characters who change?

                         WHAT'S THE APPEAL?

     For one thing, change is more interesting than constancy.  A
status quo grows tedious.  Character change helps to create greater
*variety* in the story.

     New, course-changing story events are rarely enough to create
adequate and meaningful variety.  These changes of situation are
welcome and necessary, but often relatively superficial.  Change of
character is more substantial.

     A process of change stimulates audience curiosity and
anticipation. *Will* the character change?  If so, how – and how
much?

     Change is often difficult and stressful, so it adds conflict –
both interpersonal conflict and inner conflict.

     The fact that a character changes also lends the story a sense
of significance and importance.  Specifically, it tells us that the
middle mattered – these events were important enough to lead to
character change or growth.  When comparing the before and after,
the beginning and the end, we notice the difference, and that it's
not just in terms of situation.  It conveys to us that the story as
a whole was worth watching.  A story whose events don't lead to any
change at all in any of the characters may be seen as too
inconsequential, too superficial.

     And by noticing the steps of change, we realize that the story
is moving forward and developing.  It's not static.  The arc helps
the audience achieve a sense of progress.

     Also important, I think, is that most of us would like to
become a better person.  We all have weaknesses and flaws that we
would like to eliminate.  We would like to improve.  But we don't
quite know how, and aren't sure it's really possible.

     So when we see characters on screen who change a great deal,
*it gives us hope that we, too, can change*.

     And maybe, if we study what happened to them and what they did,
we can even gain some insights as to how to do it.

     And in those films which depict negative change?  Often that
serves as a cautionary tale.  We learn what happens when we allow
the darker impulses of our nature to gain hold, or what can happen
if our moral codes aren't developed enough to handle great fear,
stress, or temptation.  We observe what might happen when we make a
wrong decision, or cross a line that we know we shouldn't.  Or we
see how miserable and limited our life might be if we don't summon
the will to overcome the effects of a traumatic event.

     So witnessing negative change can serve as a warning – a
negative example.  And viewing positive change gives us hope, and
often some insights into effecting our own positive change.

     Finally, a character arc can be a *unifying* element in the
story.  It becomes a *throughline*, lending a kind of ongoing
element which makes a story more cohesive.

     Let's sum up the benefits and appeal of a character arc.

     Incorporating one or more character arcs in a story can provide
variety, evoke curiosity, enhance conflict, demonstrate story
progress, act as a cautionary warning, stimulate hope, and offer a
model for change.  It also lends a sense of importance and
significance to a story.

     Furthermore, since it is an ongoing process, it can provide a
cohesive and unifying element to the beginning, middle, and end
sections of the story.  And it can help to integrate story,
characterization, and theme.

     And there's an added bonus to the writer:  it can even aid in
the *development* of the plot.  Keeping character change in mind
will provoke ideas and possibilities that otherwise might not have
occurred.

     That's all.  No *wonder* we like character arc, when it's
effectively employed.

     The fact that a character arc acts as a throughline leads us to
the next topic – a consideration of the *process* of change.  When
does this change occur?

                         THE CHANGE PROCESS

     The short answer:  not all at once.  And not all at the end.

     If it happened all at once, it wouldn't be an arc.  It would be
one moment, or one point, but not an arc.

     While the entire arc is important, the end point generally
carries extra significance.  It's here that the last stage of
growth occurs.  Shortly before, during, or just after the Climax,
the audience – and often the main character, too – should
realize just how much the main character has changed (and whether
it's for the better or worse).

     In some stories, the last major spurt of character growth comes
earlier – at the time of the Crisis/Turnaround which often occurs
at the End of the Middle Section (generally the End of Act 2).  It
may be a significant realization, a self-revelation, or a change of
heart (or mind).

     It could be an emotional or spiritual healing, a symbolic
rebirth, the casting off of a potential fatal flaw, obtaining a new
clarity of values, or a coming together of outer goal and inner
need.

     Now the character is ready for the Final Confrontation.  Now he
or she is ready to solve the problem.

     But just as often, the last breakthrough for the character
comes in the last act – during the Final Confrontation and/or
Final Ordeal, or during or sometimes even just after the Climax.

     At whichever point the last breakthrough occurs, this must not
be the *only* moment of growth.

     The arc begins early in the middle act(s) – and sometimes in
Act 1.

     Whatever New Situation that the character is faced with in Act
1 will likely cause the character to be thrown off balance.  Often
an important decision is made by the End of Act 1.  Usually a new
conflict begins, and/or a Big Problem is tackled.  All of this
tends to shake the character up a bit.  While the change process
may not have actually begun, the character is being "softened up"
and positioned so that the change process may begin.  The new
experiences and new perspectives that begin during or at the End of
Act 1 will lead to new insights and learning.

     So in Act 1, there will be only a little change – or none at
all, except in circumstance.  But during the middle act(s), the
change process begins (or escalates).  While at times it may slow
down and even temporary stop, it doesn't end until the End of the
Middle Act(s), or until the End of the Last Act.

     The process of growth or change will usually be erratic –
there will be periods of minor, sometimes gradual change, then a
spike of growth (due to some insightful revelation or a key
event), then perhaps slow growth again, some periods of plateau,
and other "spikes" of change, realization, or self-revelation.

     At least once, there can be some "backsliding" – some
regression, and then recovery, and resumed growth.  Indeed,
sometimes, for a major portion of the script, there is nearly as
much (or even more) regression/deterioration as there is progress
and growth.

     And sometimes the character can be regressing or deteriorating
in some ways, and improving in others.

     But what *doesn't* happen is to have the character change all
at once, near the end.  Or at any one spot, for that matter.  It's
a process.  It's a throughline.  It's an arc.

     Remember, though, that while we refer to this "before vs.
after, beginning vs. end" change as a Character Arc, or sometimes a
Transformational Arc, it's not a "perfect" arc.  Rarely, if ever,
do we see steady and constant growth throughout the story.  It's a
mixture of slow and gradual change, along with some periods of no
change, and punctuated by several instances of substantial change
due to events or interactions which lead to sudden insights or
progress.

     So the last moment of change – whether at the end of the
Middle Act(s) or around the Climax – is just the culmination and
completion of the change process.  It's the last and perhaps
biggest single moment of realization and/or self-revelation,
and/or the final breakthrough.

     By the end of the story, the character's life is probably going
to return to (or attain) a state of balance, even if only a rough,
uneasy balance.  Will it be a better status-quo than before, or
worse?  Is he or she at a higher or a lower level?  What has he or
she learned about him or her self?  Or about people, or about life?
In what ways are they a different person?  Have they exorcized
their Key Flaws?  Faced their fears?  Filled a void?  Satisfied an
inner-need?  Are they sadder but wiser?  Happier and wiser?  A
better person?

     Figure out your character's Transformational Arc, his or her
range of change.  If it's not distinct enough, consider going back
and starting your character out "lower" than you currently do.
Start low and give them room to grow.  And make sure you've made a
good match of character and situation.  You want a character who is
challenged by the goal, the problem, and the main conflict.
Without a proper, fitting match, no growth will occur.  The
character will be further challenged by other characters, both
adversaries and allies.

                              MOVING ON

     Much more can be said about the Transformational Arc (or
Character Arc) – especially how it relates to the protagonist's
being "incomplete" and imperfect.  This will be addressed in
separate articles dealing with the Key Flaw, Inner Need, Backstory
Events, and Theme.  Character change also relates, usually, to the
story's theme.

     As we've seen, a great deal is accomplished by providing a
character who goes through a process of learning and change.  It
lends variety to both character and story, provokes curiosity and
anticipation, intensifies conflict and energy, and provides
inspiration and instruction for viewers who would themselves like
to change.

     If you haven't made use of a character arc in your writing thus
far ... it may be time for a change!

                               #  #  #

Copyright Jeff Newman, 2001


Jeff Newman is a screenplay consultant -- rated #2 out of 17 script
analysts reviewed and ranked by "Creative Screenwriting" (March-April
1999).

Author's Note:  I now offer a $300 screenplay evaluation,
consisting of on-script notes, a tape recording elaborating on the
notes, 10 pages or more of written evaluation (6 pages or more of
written commentary, and a 4-page checklist), and a follow-up phone
consultation.

For details, and info on my other evaluation services, please see
my humble homepage:  http://www.storynotes.net

To read my bio, scroll down to the very bottom of the home page
and click on "Credentials."

There is also a "Testimonials" link -- feedback from some writers
who have used my evaluation services.  If you'd like, you may
call me in Los Angeles at (310) 715-6455.


                             *  *  *  *

                        QUESTIONS?  COMMENTS?

     Suggestions?  Criticisms?  Compliments?  Caveats?

     I'd like to hear them.  If I think they would be of interest
to others, I'll post a special issue along with my replies.  Send
them to:  storynotes@...

     I hope you've found this article of interest, and that it
proves helpful in your present and future scripts.

                              * * * * *

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #8:


What is a "character arc"?  Why can it help a story?  And how does
it work?


(Due to its length, this article will be sent in two parts.  Thus,
it will comprise Issues #8 & #9.)

(You may prefer to cut-and-paste the two e-mail installments into
a word processing document -- Word, WordPerfect, Works, etc.  It
should then be easy to make the page breaks come out properly, in
case you wish to print it out.  I suggest a left margin of 1.5" or
2.0", depending on the font.)

(To see back issues of the StoryNotesNewsletter, go
to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter ... scroll
down past "Search Archive" and, to start with Issue 1, click on
the "4" in the box for Oct 2000.)


PART 1 (OF 2):


IS THERE AT LEAST ONE


               * * *   C H A R A C T E R   ARC   * * *


IN YOUR STORY?


     Audiences love stories in which at least one character
undergoes a significant change.

     We're assuming, of course, that the change is motivated,
plausible, and not overly sudden.  It's better to have no change
than a "silly" change – that is, a character change which is
unmotivated, too abrupt, or simply not credible.   But when
properly done, character change can add power, significance, and
emotion to your screenplay.

     Character change is commonly referred to as a "character arc"
– and sometimes as "transformational arc."  Simply put, this
refers to the change process a character experiences during the
course of the story – the before, the after, and the transitional
steps (and the events that cause them) in between.

     An "arc" is a gentle curve connecting two points.  Thus, a
character who has only one moment of change (whether at the end or
elsewhere) really doesn't have an "arc."  A character arc refers
to an overall change that occurs in stages, in steps.  It's a
*process* of change.

     We'll discuss *why* audiences enjoy observing a character who
undergoes a change later – and discuss in more detail why having
one or more character arcs can strengthen story.

     For now, let's consider a few "characters who change:"

     Scrooge in A CHRISTMAS CAROL, Kevin in HOME ALONE, Rocky in the
first movie (it's not just a change of status or fame), Luke
Skywalker and Han Solo in STAR WARS, Marty in BACK TO THE FUTURE,
Rick in CASABLANCA, Terry in ON THE WATERFRONT, Oskar Schindler in
SCHINDLER'S LIST, Hoffman's character in TOOTSIE, Cruise's in RAIN
MAN, Rose in TITANIC, Will in GOOD WILL HUNTING, another Will in
SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE, Lester in AMERICAN BEAUTY, the Hanks character
in CAST AWAY, and many more.

     Most of the time, the greatest change occurs in the main
character.  There are some stories, of course, where the main
character experiences little or no growth or change.  When that's
the case, the main character generally serves as a catalyst for
change in one or more *other* characters.

     Often, only one character undergoes an "arc."  But nearly as
often, two characters, and sometimes more, will experience an arc.

     Almost always, one or more characters will change. A little or
a lot.  For better or for worse.

     In this article, I'll discuss character growth or "character
arc" as though it applies to the main character, but keep in mind
that it could be applied to one or several major secondary
characters instead of (or in addition to) the main character.

     First – what kind of change are we talking about?

                  THE NATURE & EXTENT OF THE CHANGE

     The range of change in a main character can vary from nothing
– no change at all – to a complete and stunning transformation
from one set of traits to their polar opposites.  Usually, it's
somewhere in-between.

     Two examples of "total transformation" can be seen with Scrooge
and the Grinch.  Those characters arcs are compelling and obvious.
But radical change of that sort is very rare.  Most of the time,
we're not talking about moving from one extreme to another.

     On the other hand, James Bond usually doesn't change at all
(but he and the situation serve as a stimulus for change in one of
the other characters).  Indiana Jones does, just a bit.

     In movies where the change is minor, the character will remain
primarily the same in terms of basic personality and most traits.
The change may be limited to one particular trait, specific belief,
or a certain mode of behavior.

     For instance, the change may involve the realization of some
sort of wrongful thinking and/or erroneous behavior – a negative
attitude, a moral value that lacks virtue or wisdom, or a
philosophy that hurts self or others.  And with that realization,
comes a correction of that wrongful thinking or behavior.

     Other types of "minor change" could be the learning of an
important life lesson that will improve the quality of his life.
The change can be something that improves the character's sense of
self-worth.  Sometimes it's  just the conquering of a troublesome
fear – in particular, a fear that was interfering with the
fulfilling of an Inner Need, or the accomplishment of an important
goal.

     It could be the elimination of a bad habit that was interfering
with a relationship.  Or the overcoming of an inadequacy or
limitation – such as the reluctance to compromise, to admit
vulnerability or error, to express a compliment, or to directly
state one's love for another.

     Often, these kinds of small-but-important changes are all that
is required to reap the benefits of a character arc.  It depends
upon the needs of the particular story.

     Just as often, the change is a bit more substantial than that.

     Sometimes by the end of the story a character has exorcized a
"personal demon" – a strong belief or fear that is crippling his
life in a very significant way, generally caused by one or more
traumatic events in the past.

     Another sort of character arc is about the release or
liberation of a trait or value that was already there but which has
been repressed or overshadowed.  For instance, sometimes a
character may, in the past, have been compassionate.  Or socially
and emotionally involved.  But then due to the influences of others
or certain life events, the character is now cruel, or emotionally
isolated.  In such cases, the character arc can be about
"restoring" the individual.

     Or the arc can be about nurturing – strengthening, bringing to
the surface – traits or values that were already there but had
never been expressed, or which had never been developed.
Leadership qualities, courage, resourcefulness, the ability to
love, self-reliance – often these are latent, nascent traits that
are now required, and which, after some time and effort, finally
emerge and prove helpful.

     Or it could involve a "realization" – not necessarily about a
lesson, but about a truth within oneself, a facet of one's
character.

     It can be about realizing or fulfilling one's potential.

     The character arc is often about fulfilling an Inner Need.
That may involve the healing of a psychological wound.  Or it
could be about filling a void – a lack or an emptiness – be it
social, spiritual, emotional, ethical, psychological, or otherwise.
When the Inner Need is fulfilled, the person becomes whole or
healed.

     Finally, it can be about conquering or controlling a Key Flaw
– an inhibiting, counter-productive, self-defeating, obstacle-
generating, personal flaw that blocks the fulfillment of the Inner
Need and/or works against the achievement of the goal.

     These kinds of arcs are not mutually exclusive.  For instance,
often a Need will be fulfilled after a character overcomes his Key
Flaw.  Or, conversely, the flaw will disappear once the Need is
met.  And fulfilling the Need and eliminating the Key Flaw can lead
to a restoration of one's true nature or a realizing of one's
undeveloped potential, greater self-worth, and so on.

     In some stories, the arc is negative – it involves some kind
of deterioration or devolution.

     So there are many sorts of change that can occur.  And in many
movies, the change is quite significant.  The change is only rarely
complete and total.  It is generally more moderate and realistic –
and yet still important both to the theme and to the characters
involved.

     The change process can be fascinating.  The end result,
exhilarating.

     But what *is* this process?  What *causes* the change?


(TO BE CONTINUED ...)


(End of Issue 8; see Issue 9)

Copyright Jeff Newman, 2001


Note:  I now offer a $300 evaluation.  It consists of on-script
notes, a tape recording elaborating on the notes, 10 pages or more
of written evaluation (6 pages or more of written commentary, and
a 4-page checklist) and a follow-up phone consultation.

For more information, or for info on my other services, please
see my homepage ( http://www.storynotes.net ).

                             *  *  *  *

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #7:


(This is a continuation of the
  article which began in Issue #5; see
  the online archive at e-groups if you
  did not receive or save Issues 5 or 6:
  www.egroups.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter)


PART 3 (OF 3):


TIPS FOR DESIGNING


    * * *   S T R O N G E R  M A I N  C H A R A C T E R S   * * *


KEY TRAITS SHARED BY MOST PROTAGONISTS



                OTHER  HIDDEN  TRAITS  (AND  ACTIONS)

     There is another way in which vastly diverse protagonists are
alike.  Several ways, in fact.

     In a prior article (Issues 1-4) I described a "Success
Paradigm."  This refers to character traits and action steps needed
for someone to achieve an extremely difficult goal.

     Do the four protagonists considered earlier – Dorothy Gale,
Oskar Schindler, Forrest Gump, and Luke Skywalker – employ this
success formula?  They do.  Often unwittingly, but such is often
the case.

     To review, I'll list the formula.  Think of how each of our
four dissimilar protagonists do indeed share these traits and take
these steps.

                        WHAT LEADS TO SUCCESS

1.  They have *clear-cut goal*.

2.  They are *strongly motivated* – they have an intense desire
plus clear and compelling reasons for setting and pursuing the
difficult goal.

3.  They become *totally committed* to achieving the goal – no
"sort of's, kind of's, guess so's," or "I'll try" commitments.
After a certain point, they are fully resolved and determined.

4.  They come up with a *plan* to achieve the goal – perhaps more
than one.  And when a plan is not working, they revise it or come
up with a new one.

5.  They are stubbornly *persistent*.

6.  They use their *wits* – when needed, they strain their brain
in order to be crafty, clever, and resourceful.  They learn to use
their heads to survive and solve problems ... often to out-think
the opponent.

7.  They are willing and able to *endure physical and/or emotional
suffering*.

8.  Whatever *physical strength* they have, they use when needed.
Whatever *special knowledge or skills* they have that can be of
help, they employ.

9.  To compensate for their own limitations and underdog status,
they are not too proud to *seek assistance* when necessary.

10.  They make a *maximum effort* ... they give it all they've got
– no half-hearted measures.

11.  While sometimes temporarily giving in to obsession and
consequently violating their conscience, they return to what they
believe is right; there is a *moral superiority* over their
opponents.

12.  Whether they knew it was there or not, they summon up
*courage* – physical and/or emotional – in order to stay the
course.

     Now go down the list again with each of the example
protagonists in mind.  First Dorothy.  Schindler.  Luke.  And
finally Forrest, who may not hit all of the 12 steps.

     Go ahead – do that now, before going on.

     All finished?

     The protagonists in THE WIZARD OF OZ, SCHINDLER'S LIST, and
STAR WARS clearly possess all of these traits and take all of these
steps.

     It is only in FORREST GUMP in which the title character perhaps
misses a few.  But he *does* have a goal.  He has several, in fact.
A major sub-goal is to keep his promise to Bubba and to fulfill
Bubba's dream.  His main goal is to marry Jenny.

     In regards to carrying out his promise to Bubba, Forrest has a
clear goal, and is strongly motivated and totally committed.

     His plan is rather sketchy, but while thin, he does have one:
use the money from the Ping Pong endorsements to buy a shrimp boat,
and then go to work.

     He certainly is persistent.  I don't think he uses his wits in
attaining this goal – although, despite his limited mental
capacity, he does think things through several times elsewhere in
the story, such as when he puzzles out the incongruities between
the different life philosophies he has learned, and realizes they
are not mutually exclusive.

     In addition, he endures suffering, uses his strength and learns
new skills, accepts assistance, makes a maximum effort, and in the
storm he shows courage.  Other times, as well.

     In his pursuit and courting of Jenny, he also goes through most
of these steps, with the exception of not having much of a plan.

                       WHY WE SHOULD KNOW THIS

     Why is it helpful to know all this – to recognize underlying,
less-obvious traits which these and other diverse protagonists have
in common?

     Several reasons come to mind.

     We as writers in effect "design" the protagonist.  When
considering these underlying commonalities, we might decide that a
potentially fascinating character we were tempted to use as a
protagonist might not really fit the bill:  he or she may not have
the will to compete, or might be too obvious or insufficiently
challenged.

     Perhaps with a slight adjustment, the character *could* be
used.  And to much greater advantage and effect.  If so, then
knowledge of these hidden commonalities will have been helpful.

     If adjusting the character wouldn't make sense, or would
destroy the element that makes him or her fascinating, then perhaps
we should consider using the character in the role of ally,
romance, mentor, or opponent.  Or an even more secondary role.

     You may choose to go ahead and use this potentially problematic
protagonist anyway.  But at least it will be an informed choice,
and you'll be aware of the potential pitfalls.  And with that
knowledge, perhaps you can compensate.

                COMMONALITY  AWARENESS:  A  RATIONALE

     Keeping these shared traits in mind – using as many or as few
of them as we deem fit – may help us in a number ways.

     1.  Knowing these "hidden" traits helps us to judge whether our
character will be viable as a protagonist.

     2.  This knowledge can help us to better design our
protagonist, to at least consider adjusting certain aspects of
characterization.

     3.  Using these secondary traits can further dimensionalize our
character.

     4.  They can add greater variety to the story line.

     5.  Some of these qualities – unlikely, reluctant,
strong-willed, outmatched, flawed – will help strengthen
the potential for conflict in the story.  They can enhance
suspense, too.

     6.  These same traits help make possible a significant change
in your character.  Your character will have plenty of room to
change and grow.

                               SUMMARY

     We've seen that many highly dissimilar main characters share
some often unnoticed secondary characteristics.  And we've seen how
helpful a knowledge of these hidden commonalities can be.

     All of which should motivate you to really study these
commonalities, to see if you can profitably apply them to your
screenplays, present and future.

     So, before we move on, let's briefly review these little-known
commonalities one more time.

                     DESIGNING YOUR PROTAGONIST

     Most protagonists have a strong desire to prevail.  And they
possess the *will* to really try.  And to persevere.  They are
willing and able to struggle, suffer, and engage in conflict if
that's what it takes.  Strength of will, however subtle or
surprising, is probably the key commonality in otherwise diverse
main characters.

     But there are others, also important.

     To enhance suspense, to increase empathy, and to give the
character room to grow, consider making your protagonist *an
unlikely and initially reluctant hero*, and one who is an
underdog – one who has great *will*, but who is *outmatched* by
the problem, the odds, the opposition, and/or the difficulty of
the goal.

     To make your character believable and sympathetic – and again,
to allow room to grow – let your character be *incomplete* or in
some way needy emotionally, and also *imperfect*, with several
weaknesses and flaws.

     Finally, keep in mind the traits and steps described in the
*Success Paradigm*:  even the most diverse protagonists wind up
employing most of those.  Often all of them.

     But wait a minute.

     You say you're worried that if most protagonists are given most
of these traits that they'd wind up too much alike?

     At first or even second glance, did Dorothy Gale, Oskar
Schindler, Forrest Gump, and Luke Skywalker seem to have much in
common?

     But deep down, they did.


                               #  #  #


Copyright Jeff Newman, 2000


                        QUESTIONS?  COMMENTS?

     Suggestions?  Criticisms?  Compliments?  Caveats?

     I'd like to hear them.  If I think they would be of interest
to others, I'll post a special issue along with my replies.  Send
them to:  storynotes@...

     I hope you've found this article of interest, and that it
proves helpful in your present and future scripts.

                           ABOUT THE AUTHOR

     To read my bio, go to my web page:  www.storynotes.net

     Once there, scroll down to the very bottom of the home page
and click on "Credentials."

     If you'd like to investigate my screenplay evaluation services --
including the new, $300 Evaluation -- see the main page at the
above site, and the "Testimonials" link.  If you'd like, you may
call me in Los Angeles at (310) 715-6455.


                              * * * * *

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #6:

(This is a continuation of the
  article which began in Issue #5; see
  the online archive at e-groups if
  you did not receive or save Issue 5:
  www.egroups.com/group/StoryNotesNewsletter)


PART 2 (OF 3):


TIPS FOR DESIGNING


    * * *   S T R O N G E R  M A I N  C H A R A C T E R S   * * *


KEY TRAITS SHARED BY MOST PROTAGONISTS



                     UNDERDOGS FACING LONG ODDS

     But however willful they are, they are nonetheless
*outmatched*.

     This refers to the odds being against them.  They are trying to
solve an intensely arduous problem, to achieve an overwhelmingly
difficult goal.  Often they are up against opponents who are in
some way stronger, abler, and more powerful – either physically,
numerically, or in terms of abilities or resources.

     Now, being "outmatched" is more of a situational consideration
than a character trait.

     But knowing that it is helpful to have an outmatched character
will guide you in "designing" the best character to place into your
story.  So there *is* a connection to character.

     Some of the considerations here overlap with your character
being an "unlikely" person to be in a particular situation, much
less to succeed.  But to this unlikeliness we add the element of
the deck being stacked against the hero.

     Why is this so?

     A character who is outmatched – an underdog – will
generate more suspense and more empathy from the audience.
The struggle will be more involving.

     If the character is not outmatched, we don't pull for them as
much.  We don't admire them as much if and when they succeed.  And
there just isn't as much suspense.  If the odds are against them,
if they are overwhelmed by the opposition or the size of the
problem or the difficulty of the goal, we say to ourselves, "Will
this person pull it off?  And if so, how?"

     So, in designing our character, we stay away from types who are
so competent and powerful that success will be easy and deemed
likely.

     In KARATE KID, the *antagonist* is the one who is tall,
classically handsome, muscular, and with advanced karate skills.
The main character is shorter, scrawny, and with only rudimentary
martial arts knowledge.

     The opponent is rich and popular, Daniel is barely middle class
and an outsider.

     In almost every way, Daniel is outmatched.

     As is Dorothy by the witch, Schindler versus the Nazis, Forrest
due to his retardation (and earlier, his leg), and Luke due to his
youth, his lack of training as a warrior or in the ways of The
Force, and the numbers and power of his opposition.

     Most main characters are underdogs.  Sometimes, when given
ultra-competent characters like James Bond or Superman, this
becomes difficult.  So we put Bond up against a super-intellectual
who is teamed up with a huge brute who is also a skilled fighter.
Plus an army of henchmen.

     We pit Superman against *three* super-villains with comparable
powers.

     An able warrior from the future goes up against a near-invincible
Terminator.  And when another Terminator is assigned to
protect and serve, not kill, then we get a new, souped up T2, who
is even stronger and can morph.

     By the way, that's all the more reason to give your main
characters sufficient willpower.  An unlikely, outmatched
protagonist will need all the willpower he or she can muster.

                     INCOMPLETE  AND  IMPERFECT

     Finally, each of the protagonists mentioned – along with many
others – is "incomplete" in some way.  And also imperfect.

                             INCOMPLETE

     By incomplete, I mean that there is a void in their lives.  An
emptiness that needs filling.  A lack that must be supplied.

     This completion must occur in order for them to feel whole.
And so that they can fulfill their potential and sustain healthy
relationships.

     It could be an emotional quality, a relationship, a situation,
an understanding, or a value.

     A parent or parent-figure.  Security.  Tolerance.  Self-esteem.
An opportunity for self-expression.  Adventure.  Friendship.  Joy.
Direction.  Love.

     But something is missing from their lives.  Something they *need*
in order to be a better, happier person.

     This is one more way to hook the audience:  they not only
sympathize, but they want to see the emptiness filled, or that
which is missing in the main character's life to be supplied.  And
they are curious.  Will it happen?  If so, how?  And when?

     Frequently, that which is incomplete will be supplied by
achieving the goal – or from the process of achieving it.
Sometimes it's due to a meaningful relationship acquired during the
course of the story.

                              IMPERFECT

     By imperfect – well, that's obvious.  But too many scripts are
guilty of hero-worship.  The characters are too good, with scarcely
a flaw or weakness.  A few, of course, do just the opposite.

     A perfect character is a dubious choice for two reasons.  One,
we don't believe it.  We aren't perfect, and we don't know anyone
in our own lives who is.  So characters who are nearly perfect just
aren't plausible.  We don't buy it.

     Besides that, a perfect character tends to generate resentment
on our part.  We see him or her as a "goody-two-shoes."  To the
degree we accept their perfection, we are envious of it.  And we
certainly don't identify with it.

     So in creating a too good, too competent character, you give
the audience a character they resent, find implausible, and can't
identify or empathize with.  Nice going.

                              EXAMPLES

     Let's look at how our four representative protagonists are each
incomplete and imperfect.

     Dorothy is incomplete because she feels that she doesn't have a
good home.  She feel she lacks a family that accepts her and gives
her love and attention.  She is imperfect because she is wrong
about that.

     Schindler is incomplete because no matter how much money he
makes, his wealth will feel empty – he will feel alone – until
he learns to care about and connect with other people.  And he
certainly, in the first half, is flawed.  He's selfish, self-
absorbed, dishonest, manipulative, apathetic, and more.

     Forrest feels incomplete without the love of the woman he loves
– a woman who accepts him for who he is and who has shown courage,
but cannot commit to him.  Forrest's imperfections are mostly
physical flaws, not character flaws.  But he's no saint.  He does
have a temper.

     Luke feels a need for adventure and meaning in his life.  But
he at first lacks the courage and self-esteem to pursue it.  Later,
the imperfections he must deal with are his temper and rash
impatience.

                         IN  SUMMARY  . . .

     Every protagonist should be a distinct individual.  But that
said, certain underlying traits may make for a more "viable"
protagonist than another equally interesting character who lacked
them.

     Again, these are not the *main* personality characteristics.
Not at all.  They are secondary, supplementary traits and
situational factors.

     They're not right for every main character in every type of
story.  But it helps to be aware of them.  In brief, many
protagonists are:

     1.  UNLIKELY  (to be heroic or to deal with a particular
         situation).

     2.  RELUCTANT – at least initially.

     3.  STRONG-WILLED

     4.  OUTMATCHED

     5.  INCOMPLETE

     6.  IMPERFECT

     Would your next protagonist be more effective with one or more
of these commonalities?


     (Next: "Other Hidden Traits and Actions")


(TO BE CONTINUED ...)

(End of Issue 6; see Issue 7)
   (To be sent tomorrow)

Copyright Jeff Newman, 2001

Note:  In addition to my "Deluxe" Screenplay Evaluation, I now
offer a $300 Evaluation.  Included: on-script notes, a tape
recording elaborating on the notes, 10 pages or more of written
evaluation -- 6 pages or more of written commentary, and a 4-page
checklist -- and a phone consultation.

For more information, please see my homepage (www.storynotes.net).

                               *  *  *  *

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #5:


Is your Main Character up to the job?

Discover the Hidden Patterns and Shared Traits that can be seen in
the vast majority of all protagonists!


(Due to its length, this article will be sent in three parts.  Thus,
it will comprise Issues 5-7, sent over three days.)

(Assuming you find the information interesting and of value, you
may find it more appealing to cut-and-paste the three e-mail
installments into a word processing document -- Word, WordPerfect,
Works, etc.  It should then be an easy job to make the page
breaks come out properly, in case you wish to print it out.  I
suggest a left margin of 1.5" or 2.0", depending on the font.)


PART 1 (OF 3):


TIPS FOR DESIGNING


    * * *   S T R O N G E R  M A I N  C H A R A C T E R S   * * *


KEY TRAITS SHARED BY MOST PROTAGONISTS


     Dorothy Gale.  Otto Schindler.  Forrest Gump.  Luke Skywalker.
What do these central characters have in common?

     At first glance, not much.  They're quite a varied group.
Beyond the fact they're all protagonists in major studio films,
they just don't *have* much in common.  Or do they?

     If you describe their personalities, their values and
attitudes, their realm of knowledge and skills, and their major
character traits (both positive and negative), the differences you
notice at first glance loom even larger.

                        CORE CHARACTER TRAITS

     And yet, these diverse and dissimilar individuals share a
number of underlying traits.  And they are traits that are shared
by the vast majority of movie protagonists.

     In examining what these and other characters have in common, we
will discover the hidden qualities that, if missing, may be causing
problems in one of your screenplays.

     About two-thirds of all protagonists – who in most respects
are vastly different – can be described as follows. *They are
unlikely and reluctant heroes who are strong-willed but outmatched.
These imperfect and incomplete people struggle mightily against the
odds and undergo a change as a result.*

     Even at a glance, looking over the list of dissimilar
characters at the beginning of the article, we can see that this is
true.

     But each of these points is worthy of elaboration so that these
points can be absorbed.

                              UNLIKELY

     First:  an unlikely hero.

     Dorothy is a young farm girl.  Not someone likely to trek
across often dangerous terrain to see an inaccessible wizard (and
later confront him), or to kill a powerful and evil witch.
Otto Schindler, especially when viewed at the film's opening, seems
an unlikely person to risk his life and spend a fortune to save
hundreds of people who are essentially strangers.  A person who was
an altruist, an idealist, a philanthropist, or a freedom fighter
would seem a more likely choice.

     And more obvious.  And therefore, less interesting and less
startling.  Less room to grow.

     SCHINDLER'S LIST is a true story, but part of what makes this
true story potentially rich for dramatization is the fact that the
soon-to-be hero is an unlikely one.

     Forrest Gump – a mildly retarded country youth  – certainly
seems an unlikely person to be a war hero, a guest of three
presidents, and a wealthy businessman.  An ambitious, brainy, goal-
oriented kid from the elite class would be more likely.  And less
fascinating.

     When first seen, Luke Skywalker is a callow, whiny kid.  He's
never been off his sparsely populated backworlds planet.  He has no
training as a warrior, no interest in politics or causes, and no
belief that he could help make a difference, or that problems
concerning the Empire are any of his concern.  He's rash,
impatient, and judgmental.  And yet he becomes a hero who helps
bring down the Empire.

     Part of what makes these characters fascinating  – even though
they are worlds apart in most respects – is that they *are* so
unlikely.  It not only makes the characters more intriguing, but
it's part of what makes the movie as a whole so good.

     They aren't obvious choices.  They aren't well-suited to their
tasks.  Achieving the goal is going to be tough.  It's going to
require struggle and perseverance.  It's probably going to entail
some growth.

     All of that is more interesting than having an obvious person
perform a task well-suited to their experience and personality.

     An unlikely choice is often a better one.

                              RELUCTANT

     Next, let's look at how these diverse characters are all
*reluctant* heroes.

     Despite her wish to go "Over the Rainbow," Dorothy doesn't *seek*
to go to Oz – in fact, she was returning home after briefly
running away.  And once in Oz, she wants to return.  She certainly
doesn't *want* to go up against the wicked witch.  But due to
circumstances and need, she does.

     Schindler was reluctant to start helping people.  By
inclination and action he was an opportunist.  When he started to
assist others, he did so grudgingly and often angrily.  And
certainly he was reluctant to work against the Nazis and their
systems.

     Forrest Gump did not seek to become a hero in Vietnam, nor
eagerly hope for or desire it.  But when circumstances seemed to
demand it, he did what he thought was right.

     Luke was stubbornly reluctant to get involved in someone else's
struggle, and skeptical as to what difference he or any small group
could make.  He declines Ben Kenobi's request for Luke to join the
rebellion and to help him get the plans in the R2D2 robot to
Alderaan.  It isn't until the farm is destroyed – he has nothing to
stay for now – and his aunt and uncle are killed that he changes
his mind.

     So all of these characters – and many more that you could
summon to mind – are both unlikely and at least initially reluctant
heroes.

     Why reluctant, at least at first?

     For one thing, it adds to the conflict.  Circumstances seem to
demand they take action, but they don't want to.  Maybe because
they feel they aren't up to it.  Maybe because their values aren't
in place.  Maybe because they just aren't sufficiently motivated –
yet.

     So for a time they resist the call to action.  This avoidance
or rejection of the task or goal can generate conflict.  And
suspense.

     Their reluctance is also more realistic.  We can identify with
this.  Few of us are so gung-ho that we set difficult goals
readily, or join a near-hopeless and highly risky cause hastily and
without thought.

     No.  It's more plausible when this person needs to be nudged.
When more motivation must be supplied.

     So consider making your character not just unlikely in some way
to be dealing with this situation, problem, task, or conflict, but
also either somewhat or greatly reluctant.

     At least at first.  Later, when fully motivated and committed,
there will be no holding him or her back.

                              IRON WILL

     Our four diverse examples are also characters who are *strong-
willed.*

     By "will," I mean the inner-strength and determination to
follow through with one's intentions and choices.  It is akin to
determination, resolve, and desire.

     In life, a person with a goal – even if highly motivated –
often lacks the will to engage in conflict or to endure suffering
in order to attain the goal.

     But if this person were in a drama, not only would we feel
frustrated at following someone who continually caved in due to
conflict or hardship, but suspense would drain away – we would
assume that this person will *not* achieve the goal or solve the
problem.  We'll be deprived of hope and doubt.  And if he or she
does succeed, we probably won't believe it, or at any rate respect
it.

     Such a character might fit in as a secondary character, but not
as a protagonist.  If a main character lacks will, he or she will
fold when the going gets tough.  They will give in to opponents who
tell them no.

     Not all movies end happily.  But to keep our interest, we need
to see a chance for success.  We need to be able to hope.

     A major character without sufficient will could have a hope for
success only if the goal were easy, or the conflict and struggle
slight.  None of which promises for a very good movie.  Or,
perhaps, if given massive amounts of help.

     But then, we think, why are we focusing on this helpless person
who lacks the inner strength to struggle for what he or she wants
and thinks is important?  Maybe we should be watching one of the
helpers!

     A person with will does not necessarily mean a confident one.
An insecure person filled with doubts and perhaps even lacking in
self-esteem can still possess sufficient will to engage in conflict
and to stay the course.

     Even a shy person can be a willful one.

     A main character must have will, or he or she will be a
pushover who would quit early in the struggle.

     And now, let's examine our diverse quartet for this trait.

     Due to her strong desire to go home and her concern for Aunt
Em, Dorothy has the will to stand up (albeit reluctantly) to the
bullying wizard and to the evil witch.

     Schindler, once his compassion and courage have been kindled,
has the inner strength to risk much as he secretly opposes the
Nazis and helps his employees and prisoners who have also
demonstrated courage and commitment.

     Forrest's will is strong indeed.  He risks gunfire and disobeys
his lieutenant's orders in order to save the man's life.  He puts
up with rejection, ridicule, and setbacks to make Bubba's dream
come true, and in his own pursuit of Jenny's love.  He is not a
person easily talked out of what he decides to do, especially if he
really wants to do it and/or he thinks it's the right thing to do.

     Luke is willfully stubborn in his reluctance in the beginning
of STAR WARS.  He will not be persuaded by Obi-Wan.  Later, when
fully motivated, neither storm troopers, Han's ridicule about The
Force, nor great danger and difficulties dissuade him from trying
to save the princess, escape with the plans and finally in trying
to destroy the Death Star.

     All of these characters – and most main characters – have the
inner strength, the desire, and the determination to persevere even
when the going gets tough.  Even when they're scared, depressed, or
in pain.  They all have *will*.


(TO BE CONTINUED ...)

(End of Issue 5; see Issue 6)
   (To be sent tomorrow)

Copyright Jeff Newman, 2001

Note:  Starting at the beginning of the year, I have revised my
screenplay evaluation services.  I now offer a $300 evaluation (on-
script notes, a tape recording elaborating on the notes, 10 pages
or more of written evaluation -- 6 pages or more of written
commentary, and a 4-page checklist -- and a phone consultation.

For more information, or for info on my other "deluxe" evaluations,
please see my homepage (www.storynotes.net).

                             *  *  *  *

StoryNotesNewsletter #4:


(This is a continuation of the
  article which began in Issue #1; see
  the online archive at e-groups if you
  did not receive or save Issues 1-3:
  www.egroups.com/StoryNotesNewsletter)


PART 4 (of 4):


         THE KEYS TO SUCCESS FOR PROTAGONISTS & SCREENWRITERS


                               TEST IT

     You won't fully accept this success paradigm unless you put it
to the test – several, in fact.
     So look back at the first, shorter version of this list of
actions and attitudes (or at the summary version that follows) and
think of a movie that you have seen a dozen times or more.  Go down
the list, and see how many of these steps or traits were used in
that movie.  Probably most, if not all.

     One example isn't enough.  Do this for several movies you are
very familiar with – choose a few recent ones, and some classics.
You will again see that most, if not all, of the steps were used.
     Finally, go ahead and get out a movie you know well from your
collection.  Play it – in fast forward, if you're in a hurry
– and look for examples of these character traits rising to the
fore, or for the actions described.  Think about the movie in terms
of these factors for success.

     You will find that this success paradigm acts as a kind of
underlying, supplementary structure, as well as a secondary theme,
to most movies, past and present.  And to quite a few plays,
novels, and epic poems.

                                USE IT

     What is the reason most (or usually, all) of these traits and
action steps are in movies about an outmatched character who
succeeds against the odds?  It's because these are actually the
traits and steps needed for a real person to achieve difficult
goals.
     By including most, or if appropriate, all of them in your
script, your story will be more believable.  And there are other
reasons to include them, as well.
     You will be adding variety to the story action.
     The emotional palette will likely be broader and more intense.
     Your characters will gain more dimension.
     In addition, the audience members will receive, in hidden
form, a design for success – one that, they sense, could make a
big difference in their lives.  Just as it could to yours.

     One last reason why this list can be valuable:  it makes for a
powerful brainstorming tool.  By thinking about each item in terms
of your story and main character(s), ideas will likely spring into
your mind.
     It's an idea-generator.  And not just in the early pre-writing
phases.  It can also be used as a guideline-checklist after you've
completed the first draft, in preparation for the next draft.
     Sometimes adding that one last missing trait or step (again,
if appropriate to your character and story) can make a significant
difference.  It can remove a "thin" quality that you sensed was
present but weren't sure how to correct.  It can add a bit more
interest or emotion.  It can help to more fully dimensionalize your
main character.

     In short, utilizing this formula for success can add vigor and
variety to your script, as well as plausibility.
     For members of the audience, it can help to satisfy the hunger
for solutions to life problems; it can be a model for achieving
elusive goals.

     To expand on this last point ...

                       THE STORYTELLING MISSION

     Seeing this portrayed in any one movie or book will not likely
make many people cry "Eureka!" as they suddenly notice this helpful
process (or some part of it) and perceive its value – but it might
happen with a few.

     "Maybe if I were more persistent."
     "I'm just working blindly; I don't have a plan."
     "I don't use my head enough; I've got to start working smart."

     "I'm not trying hard enough; I've really got to give it all
I've got."
     "I gotta shrug off all the naysayers; I don't care if they
make fun of me."
     "I'm trying to do it all on my own; that won't work."
     "I've got to be willing to sacrifice more if I want to pull
this off."

     Certainly, with some, thoughts like these will spring to mind.
And after viewing numerous movies where this model has been
incorporated into the story, no doubt many people will glean the
insights and value that it offers.

     Granted, it's not our primary responsible as storytellers to
"help" our audience – although most themes are meant to provide
some level of increased understanding.  Our main purpose is to
entertain.  This model, however, takes nothing away from the
entertainment aspects of a story.  This can be used with most story
concepts, and with marvelously diverse characters.  It tends to
enrich plots, not weaken or burden them.  Most of the time, it
makes a story *more* entertaining, not less.

     The fact it can help many viewers to deal better with problems
in their lives and to achieve difficult goals is simply a welcome
bonus.  And remember:  one reason many people enjoy stories is to
learn about problem-solving and goal-achievement.

                       VARIATIONS & EXCEPTIONS

     While this paradigm is compatible with most stories and will
enhance them, it must, of course, be flexible.

     Sometimes when dealing with a particular character or theme,
one of these traits or steps will be purposefully excluded.  That
will happen more often in stories with a sad, bitter, or tragic
ending, or a mixed (bittersweet or ironic) ending.  In these
stories, the exclusion of one or more of these attitudes or actions
will be part of the thematic point.  The failure, limited success,
or success at too-great cost may be seen as partially due to pride,
inflexibility, moral corruption, excessively clinging to old ways,
passivity, half-hearted or unfocused efforts, etc.

     In other words, these stories emphasize traits or actions that
cause the character or characters to omit some of the needed steps,
or which contradict some of the needed attitudes.  These stories
become, amongst other things, a demonstration of what can happen
when one or more of these attitudes and actions are not utilized.
     In effect, these stories are saying "Here's what can happen
when pride prevents one from seeking needed assistance."  Or "Those
who don't think thoroughly, and thus rely on old or lazy ways of
thinking, are doomed to failure."  Or "A lack of courage results in
caving in to the unfair desires of the group, leading to mediocrity
and misery."  These statements may not be the primary theme, but
they generally relate to the main theme and complement it.

     One other variation:  any of these traits or steps, taken to
extreme, can be counter-productive.  Excessive persistence can
become foolish stubbornness.  Seeking help could lead to over-
reliance on others.  Total commitment could lead to blind
obsession.  Willingness to suffer when necessary and/or the need
for maximum effort, if extended for too long a period, can become
punishing and dangerously self-destructive, even physically self-
abusive (and thus lessen odds for success or even survival).
Excessive courage can lead to recklessness.  The extreme form of
these behaviors can be as bad as their absence.
     This can sometimes be effectively incorporated into the story.
If this excessiveness leads to failure, that becomes part of the
theme.  If the excessiveness is eventually tempered, then, prior to
being corrected, it can create both internal and external
conflicts, as well as emotion and suspense.

     Finally, what about stories that feature an opponent or
competitor?  It turns out most of these attitudes and actions will
apply to that character, too.  The failure of the adversary (when
such is the case) will often be due to some character defect that
overrides these traits and steps, or from the extreme, excessive use
of one of them, or from the absence of one.
     For instance, antagonists are often relentless (a mixture of
persistence and total commitment).  Usually they have clear goals
and often well-formulated plans for achieving them.  They often
enlist the aid of allies.  And so on.  For an opponent to be
worthy, challenging, and a threat in some way to the main
character's goals, this needs to be the case.

     Thus, this paradigm can be helpful for a wide range of
stories.  It can be flexibly applied.  Sometimes one or more mental
states or behaviors will be missing, and that will lead to failure.
Other times the danger will come from an extreme application.
     For most stories, most or all of these traits and steps will
be both appropriate and beneficial to the story – and to the
characters within them who are struggling to solve tough problems
and/or striving to achieve difficult and important goals.

     Before ending with a summary of this paradigm, let's recap why
a conscious knowledge of this can be helpful to many stories:


                REASONS TO USE THE "SUCCESS PARADIGM"


1.  CREDIBILITY:  the paradigm is a realistic portrayal of the
character attributes and action steps needed to achieve difficult
goals.  If an outmatched character is, indeed, ultimately
successful, this model makes that success more believable.

2.  INSIGHT:  this list of attitudes and actions which enable an
outmatched person to do great deeds displays authorial
understanding, and can lead to helpful insights on behalf of the
reader or viewer.  Thus, this tends to act as a complement to the
story's theme; it's a secondary theme.

3.  CHARACTER:  knowledge of these traits and steps can lead to the
creation of a more complex, fully rounded character – and to a
character who is better suited to carry the weight of being a
protagonist.  These would not generally be primary character traits
(although they could be); they are supplementary traits that add
dimension.

4.  VARIETY:  weaving some (or, when appropriate, all) of these
traits and especially the action steps into a plot will almost
inevitably create more variety in terms of the nature of the events
depicted than would otherwise have been the case.

5.  ENHANCE AUDIENCE INVOLVEMENT:  readers or audience members will
respect and admire characters who hold these attitudes and take
these actions.  Even if a character is basically unsympathetic, now
at least there will be a grudging respect and partial, limited
admiration.  If the character is flawed but primarily likable,
then, when this model has been utilized in the course of the story,
the audience will pull that much more for the character's success,
and rejoice that much more in the eventual victory.  Thus, this
enhances the audience's engagement with the characters, and their
overall emotional response.

6.  BRAINSTORMING TOOL:  this serves as an idea-generator while
developing the plot.  It can be useful in the rewriting process, as
well.

7.  A BEHAVIORAL MODEL:  this can act as a slightly helpful,
perhaps even an invaluable guide for readers and viewers.  Since
one reason that people are drawn to stories is to learn how other
people, real or fictional, solve tough problems and accomplish
difficult goals, weaving this model into your story can enhance its
appeal to audiences.


     Seven reasons, any one or two of which would be reason enough
to study this model, to see how it's been utilized in many films,
present and past, great and "merely" fun ... and to consider its
inclusion with your present and future stories.

     Not all traits or steps will be right for a given story.  But
usually most of them will be not only compatible, but beneficial.
And quite often, all of them.

     The "Recipe for Success":  what works for your main characters
can be a winning formula for you, too.

     How can you apply this prescription for success to your
current script – and to your career?


SUMMARY:

                         THE SUCCESS PARADIGM


  1.  GOAL:  Have a clear-cut goal.

  2.  STRONG MOTIVATION:  Be strongly motivated.

  3.  TOTAL COMMITMENT:  Be fully committed.

  4.  PLAN:  Come up with a good plan.

  5.  PERSISTENCE:  Be intensely persistent.

  6.  WITS:  Use your head; be clever.

  7.  SUFFERING:  Be willing to endure pain.

  8.  STRENGTH AND SKILLS:  Whatever you have, use it.

  9.  ASSISTANCE:  Seek or accept help when needed.

10.  MAXIMUM EFFORT:  Give it all you've got.

11.  MORAL FACTOR:  Listen to your conscience.

12.  COURAGE:  Summon up physical or emotional courage.


                              #   #   #


Copyright Jeff Newman, 2000



                        QUESTIONS?  COMMENTS?

     Suggestions?  Criticisms?  Compliments?  Caveats?

     I'd like to hear them.  If I think they would be of interest
to others, I'll post a special issue along with my replies.  Send
them to:  storynotes@...

     I hope you've found this article of interest, and that it
proves helpful in your present and future scripts.

                           ABOUT THE AUTHOR

     To read my bio, go to my website by clicking on the following
link:
     www.storynotes.net
     If it's not clickable, then type www.storynotes.net
     Once there, scroll down to the very bottom of the home page
and click on "Credentials."

     If you'd like to investigate my screenplay evaluation service,
see the homepage at the above site, and the "Testimonials" link.
If you'd like, you may call me in Los Angeles at (310) 715-6455.


                              * * * * *

StoryNotesNewsletter #3:


(This is a continuation of the
  article which began in Issue #1; see
  the online archive at e-groups if you
  did not receive or save Issues 1 & 2:
  www.egroups.com/StoryNotesNewsletter)


PART 3 (of 4):


         THE KEYS TO SUCCESS FOR PROTAGONISTS & SCREENWRITERS


                            7 -- SUFFERING

     This is one more thing audiences respect and admire – a
character who keeps going despite physical or emotional suffering.
It's part of the price which must be paid when trying to do the
difficult.
     Seeing a character endure and persist despite pain engages the
audience's sympathy.  It also proves to us just how important this
is to the character.  And it makes us that much happier at the end
if the character finally succeeds.  When characters have tried
their hardest (maximum effort) and endured suffering of one sort or
another, and yet continued (persistence), we feel they have
*earned* their success, and we rejoice at it.

     Athletes have an expression:  "no pain, no gain."  While that
can be taken to unproductive and foolish extremes, it is true that
in physical, athletic endeavors, in order to achieve success, some
sweat, strain, soreness, and exhaustion must be endured along the
way, both during training and often during the event itself.
     Many artists have suffered pain while creating some of their
great works – Michelangelo painting the ceiling of the Sistine
Chapel, Monet painting outdoors in the bitter cold, and with
arthritis.

     Students, musicians, athletes, entrepreneurs, executives, and
others often sacrifice pleasure in order to do the studying,
practice, training, or extra work needed to attain their goals.
Doctors have a particularly long road, and their year of residency
entails much emotional and physical pain by way of stress and sleep
deprivation.
     When a goal is difficult, it will almost always entail some
sort of sacrifice, and perhaps even pain of one sort or another.
It's a price individuals must be willing to pay to enjoy the
benefits of achieving our desires.

     For a screenwriter, suffering can come in the form of
frustration at not solving a script problem, at not making fast
enough progress, at lacking connections, at not having enough time
to write, at not making a sale soon enough, and in dealing with
sometimes savage criticism and rejection.
     Sometimes we literally suffer pain when hunched over the
keyboard for hours on end, although that generally mild pain should
be kept in perspective.
     Often the suffering comes from people who mock our goals and
attempt to dissuade us from pursuing them.  As with everyone else,
we must endure the suffering, learn from it, and go on.

                       8 -- STRENGTH AND SKILLS

     When a character uses some special skill or knowledge, make
sure you have planted (established) that the character has that
skill or knowledge earlier in the script.
     It helps show determination and a willingness to engage in
maximum effort if whatever physical strength a character has is
called upon at some point, even if the task is primarily a mental
one.  It also provides variety.  In addition, any good character is
a specific individual, with certain areas of knowledge and certain
particular skills.  We find it rewarding when some bit of knowledge
or skill that we know the character possesses is brought to bear in
the solution of the problem or the achievement of the goal.

     It's realistic, as well.  In real life, the bigger a problem
is, or the harder a goal, the more likely it is that we will have
to draw on many areas of our knowledge, and utilize one or more of
our skills.  Not all real-life goals involve physical strength or
effort, but surprisingly, many do, even ones that wouldn't appear
to.  Musicians lug their equipment, shopkeepers and homeowners help
clean or remodel their stores and homes, a salesperson may have to
change a tire or push-start a stalled car in order to get to a
vital appointment on time.  It's not only athletic goals that
entail some occasional sweat and strain.

     Screenwriters can use all sorts of special knowledge and
skills in their screenplays.  You know about real estate?  That
could be used in some scene, or even be the movie's backdrop.  The
inner workings of almost any job can be interesting to those who
don't know about it.  And special skills possessed by you can be
given to your characters.  You can write about the skills (and they
can demonstrate and/or talk about them) in a convincing manner.

                           9 -- ASSISTANCE

     A character without an ally is rare.  If the task is that
difficult, chances are some help will be necessary.
     And an ally can be a valuable character.  For one thing, it
helps for your protagonist to have someone to talk to.  In
addition, if the main character becomes obsessed and acts against
conscience, there can now be conflict with the ally.  Finally, the
ally can serve as a foil or contrast character; he or she possesses
some trait lacking in the main character.

     In real life, those who try to solve great problems or perform
great deeds alone sometimes succeed eventually, but only after much
extra and needless time and effort.  More often, when insisting on
going it alone, they doom themselves to failure.  Too often pride,
vanity, mistrust, lack of self-worth ("I'm not worthy of help"),
impatience, or other counter-productive attitudes prevent some
people from seeking or accepting help.  The harder the task, the
more likely it is we will need the advice or assistance of one or
more others in order to succeed.
     Students need teachers.  Junior executives need mentors.
Athletes need coaches.  Inventors need investors and assistants.
Producers of goods need employees and distributors.  Leaders need
like-minded allies and followers.

     Screenwriters, too, need a helping hand.  We can rarely learn
enough about the craft on our own.  Help is available through
books, tapes, magazines, newsletters, and online newsgroups and
message boards.  Where possible, classes and workshops are
valuable.
     When it comes to marketing your work, it is impossible to do
it on your own.  Networking becomes crucial.  Expanding your
contacts.  Communicating.  It is not you, but others, who will
green-light your progress.  Seek assistance when needed.  Collect
mentors and allies.

                         10 -- MAXIMUM EFFORT

     With so much against your protagonist, it won't be credible if
he or she doesn't give an all-out effort.  And again, audiences
really admire this.  It creates sympathy and often empathy, as
well; we really start pulling for this person to succeed.
     In life, small problems and quick, easy goals do not require
maximum effort.  But tough problems and difficult goals will, at
least at times, require the utmost effort possible.
     Becoming a good writer and also a produced one is so difficult
you have very little chance unless you make a maximum effort.  Be
like your protagonist:  give it all you've got.

                          11 -- MORAL FACTOR

     At one point, many protagonists begin to ignore their moral
code.  They are so strongly motivated, so desperate to succeed, so
frustrated and perhaps fearful of failure that they become nearly
obsessed, and sometimes violate their conscience.  This creates
inner-conflict (character against self), which is dramatically
helpful, and also usually creates conflict between an ally and the
protagonist.  In movies with a positive ending, the character gets
back in sync with what is right.

     In real life, too, when persons trying to achieve something
very difficult are hobbled by internal conflicts that stem from
disregarding their conscience, they tend to be distracted.  They're
not giving full mental attention and energy to the problem at hand.
And often, subconsciously, they will do something to trip
themselves up.
     Also:  since more people have a conscience than lack one, a
person of good moral character will attract more support than someone
with a shady, sociopathic, or criminal mindset.

     Some screenwriters are tempted to ignore their conscience by
writing material that think will be commercial but which they, in
some way, find personally, even morally, abhorrent.
     Writers who don't like or have moral qualms about the stories
they write will not be happy even should they succeed.  And chances
are they *won't* succeed; it's extremely difficult to write well
when writing material you don't like or don't believe in.
     Writers are best when writing about something they care about,
something that excites them and that they are passionate about.
You can't do that if you're violating your conscience.  As the song
says, let it be your guide – that and your passions and enthusiasm
for a subject.

                            12 -- COURAGE

     If we put a character into a situation where courage isn't
necessary, then the stakes aren't high enough.  The risks aren't
great enough.  Not all stories demand physical courage.  But
risking failure, resisting peer pressure, or persevering despite
the ridicule of others also involves a kind of courage.
     A character called upon to be courageous despite great fear
creates conflict and often character growth.  This is even more
effective with a character who never knew he or she was capable of
bravery.  If highly motivated, almost anyone is capable of courage.
But it still isn't easy.

     When looking at the lives of real men and women of great
accomplishment, frequently it took courage to even begin their
great quests, plans, journeys, and goals.  This is especially true
for those who were pioneers, pathfinders, innovators, or explorers --
whether in the realm of physical travel and discovery, or in the
fields of science, technology, or business.  It also applies to
many military leaders and statesmen.
     And it took courage again to weather the periods of doubt and
travail -- to continue to believe in themselves and their dreams,
and to push past the setbacks, hardships, and chorus of voices
urging them to quit or turn back.  Courage must counter not just
physical fears, but the fear of the unknown path and outcome, and
the fear of failure.

     When a screenwriter buys an expensive computer system and
printer (or software program, etc.) that isn't easily affordable,
that's an act of courage.  It's even more an act of courage to
stand up to (or ignore) those who try to convince you that your
goals are impossible and foolish, who may even belittle and laugh
at you.  This is true for would-be screenwriters and for all others
who are both dreamers and doers, who are bucking the odds and
trying to do the difficult.
     Peer, family, and community pressure is a potent force; it
takes courage to rise above it.  It also takes courage to commit to
a goal that will take a long time, much effort, and whose outcome
is uncertain.
     Thus, courage – physical and/or psychological – is
required for the achievement of great goals.


(TO BE CONTINUED ...)

(End of Part 3; see Issue 4)


Copyright Jeff Newman, 2000


For information about Jeff Newman's "StoryNotes Screenplay
Evaluation Service," go to www.storynotes.net.

StoryNotesNewsletter #2:


(This is a continuation of the
  article which began in Issue #1; see
  the online archive at e-groups if
  you did not receive or save Issue 1:
  www.egroups.com/StoryNotesNewsletter)


PART 2 (OF 4):


         THE KEYS TO SUCCESS FOR PROTAGONISTS & SCREENWRITERS



                       THE RECIPE FOR SUCCESS:

           A MODEL FOR GOAL ACHIEVEMENT AND PROBLEM SOLVING

                        (AN EXPANDED ACCOUNT)


                              1 -- GOAL

     Without a perceived goal and intended destination, the
audience gets restless.  The script lacks a sense of cohesion and
forward direction.  A goal for your main character(s) can provide
that sense of direction.  An audience now has something to
anticipate.  A goal helps to generate suspense.  It gives audiences
something with which to measure the progress and setbacks of the
main characters.

     Now let's consider goal not as a dramatist, but in terms of
the characters in a story – or people in real life.  It helps for
story characters and real-life individuals to have goals.  A goal
increases the odds for successfully solving a given problem and/or
in attaining desires.  Otherwise, the results can be drift, or at
best, haphazard and unproductive efforts.  Without goals (which are
then pursued), the status quo will likely remain the same, or
worsen.
     And clear-cut, specific goals are better than overly general,
hazy ones; our plans and actions will be more precisely targeted.
Well-defined goals help to clarify the desired result.  They can
serve as reminders.  And they act to focus our mind and behavior.

     Goals are important for writers, too.  A struggling writer
without specific goals will be too unfocused to develop the high
level of craft needed to attract attention and to launch a career.
Develop clear and specific goals for your main characters – and
for yourself.

                        2 -- STRONG MOTIVATION

     A character with insufficient or unclear motivation will puzzle
the audience, and be seen as implausible.  For characters to
try as hard as they do, endure suffering, and be persistent, they
must have some compelling reasons for pursuing their goals.
     Usually the motivation will be clear.  Occasionally, it can
work if the reasons are implied or assumed.  But we must sense and
be able to guess at the motivation when it isn't explicit.  All in
all, characters who take resolute and sustained actions must be
strongly motivated.

     And so must you be.  Becoming a good screenwriter is a tough
and time-consuming process; breaking in is just as tough.  If you
don't want it badly, give up now.  If you do have a truly strong
desire, sometimes remind yourself why, and visualize the creative,
social, and material rewards to come.

                        3 -- TOTAL COMMITMENT

     Sometimes a character starts out only partially committed, and
becomes fully committed later, when given more reason:  the
motivation is strengthened.  If full commitment has not been
reached by the end of Act 1, it is usually attained by the
Midpoint.  But a character who is not psychologically determined
and fully committed will not make the maximum effort necessary for
success.

     In real life, great and/or difficult deeds are rarely possible
unless a person is totally committed.  "I'll try" isn't enough, nor
are partial or half-hearted efforts.  Strong desire and motivation
must lead to a conscious decision to do what it takes (values
permitting).  Whatever amount of time and effort are needed, will
be applied.

     Your desire and your goal to be a working screenwriter also
will require complete determination.  Without the right attitude,
and without the conscious decision of being willing to do all that
is needed – full commitment – it's likely your efforts will
be too modest and that success will prove elusive.

                            4 -- THE PLAN

     As in life, a character pursuing a goal without a well-considered
plan stumbles blindly.  Most characters come up with a
plan soon after setting the goal.  The plan is the mechanism or
pathway by which the goal may be achieved.  The goal is the "what,"
the motivation is the "why," the plan is the "how."
     At first, the protagonist's plan will not work; he or she
lacks sufficient information, or the problem and/or opposition is
underestimated.  The plan will then be changed.  Even so, things
will go wrong, and it will sometimes be necessary to "wing it."

     Later (in the last act, or some time earlier) another plan
will be formulated, and then put into effect near the end.  Some
parts of this plan, too, will go wrong.  This reflects what often
happens in life.  Plus, a plan that unfolds smoothly is too
predictable, even boring.  When this Final Plan (or some aspect of
it) fails, improvisation is necessary.  In effect, new plans or
adjustments to the old plan are made on the spot.

     In stories and in life, the plans may be simple or elaborate,
quickly arrived at or only after much deliberation.  It depends on
the specifics.  But when goals and problems are difficult, leaving
things solely to chance and spontaneous thinking is usually a
prescription for failure.  A plan is a natural and necessary
response.  A plan helps translate desire into reality.

     For screenwriters, planning can be used for your writing
schedule and the acquisition, storage, and organization of your
materials.  As the saying goes, "plan your work, and then work your
plan."  It can also be helpful to plan at least some of the major
plot events of your script before writing.  Finally, effective
writers create a marketing plan for their scripts, and do some
flexible career planning.

                           5 -- PERSISTENCE

     Audiences admire a character who shows persistence – who keeps
going despite obstacles, setbacks, poor odds, and scant hope.  They
respect someone who refuses to give up.  They also sense how
important it is toward the character's success.  Persistence is one
of *the* most important factors for success.

     The careers of many successful individuals – leaders,
inventors, artists, and others – are strewn with stretches of
adversity and numerous instances of failure.  In a prize fight,
when one combatant hits the canvas, the fight is not over unless
the boxer can't or won't get up.  Otherwise, it's just a knockdown,
not a defeat.  Successful individuals expect setbacks and
difficulties.  They pick themselves up, learn from their mistakes,
and then they persevere.
     In every difficult endeavor, persistence pays.  Tenacity leads
to triumph.  Not by itself, but in conjunction with some of the
other character attributes and actions.

     Many talented individuals quit when they don't sell their
first or second scripts.  Most writers – even very gifted ones
– need to write five or six scripts (in addition to studying books
and movies and reading produced screenplays) before they get good.
Some scripts have taken ten years to sell.  One reason for success
is persistence.  Desire, developing your talent, and persistence
are the main keys to success.

                              6 -- WITS

     This is another thing audiences admire.  We delight in seeing
an outmatched character gain ground by being clever, witty, tricky,
or resourceful.  If you can't outfight or outrun your opponents,
then you'd best out-fox them.  Often, the protagonist was never
like this before.  But now, when challenged, when it's necessary, the
mental under-achiever learns how important it is to "use your
head."  It's a definite key to victory, and audiences love it.
     Ingenious, crafty thinking was one of the most-prized
qualities of Greek heroes (along with courage and persistence).  It
even predates Greek drama; Odysseus/Ulysses escapes doom several
times by being clever, such as in the way he deals with the
Cyclops.  In Greek mythology there are many examples:  gazing
directly at Medusa turns people into stone, so how does one destroy
her?  Perseus looks only at her image in a mirrored shield.  There
are some Biblical examples, too – David slays Goliath not with
brute strength but with superior tactics.

     In both real life and fiction, searching for fresh options or
solutions, coming up with new ideas, departing from the tried-and-
true, looking beyond the obvious solutions or approaches,
continuing to brainstorm when failure seems certain, seeking new
ways to use existing resources, anticipating the moves of one's
opponent, considering new angles and perspectives ... all of these
can lead to successful problem solution or goal achievement.

     Screenwriters must, of course, strain their brains when
creating plots, and even more when thinking of ways for their
protagonists to be clever!  We must also exercise ingenuity when
marketing our work; being resourceful can really pay off.


(TO BE CONTINUED ...)

(End of Part 2; see Issues 3-4)


Copyright Jeff Newman, 2000


For information about Jeff Newman's "StoryNotes Screenplay
Evaluation Service," go to www.storynotes.net.

StoryNotesNewsletter

ISSUE #1:

THE KEYS TO SUCCESS FOR PROTAGONISTS & SCREENWRITERS

This is a FREE e-mail newsletter.  Current plans are to send a new
article once a month.  If you wish to unsubscribe, see the
information at the end.

This is an in-depth, comprehensive article, not a superficial
summary.  Due to its length, it will be sent in four parts.  Thus,
it will comprise Issues 1-4, sent over four days.

(Assuming you find the information interesting and of value, you
may find it more appealing to cut-and-paste the four e-mail
installments into a word processing document [Word, WordPerfect,
Works, etc.].  It should then be an easy job to make the page
breaks come out right, in case you wish to print it out.  I suggest
a left margin of 1.5" or 2.0", depending on the font.)

And now:  here's a topic not covered in any screenwriting book.

I noticed this pattern after having studied various "goal
achievement" programs, books, and tapes some years ago, and then
began seeing many of the recommended steps in numerous movies ...
in fact, in most of them, once I started to pay attention to this.
I then spent some time studying quite a few films with this concept
in mind.  This article is the result.


DISCOVER THE

          * * * *   K E Y S   T O   S U C C E S S   * * * *

HIDDEN  IN  ALMOST  EVERY  HOLLYWOOD  MOVIE!


                 WHAT WORKS FOR YOUR MAIN CHARACTERS

                  CAN WORK FOR YOU AND YOUR CAREER


     There's a little-known sub-structure in many movies.  This
near-secret can be of great value in fleshing out your main
characters and developing your plot.  Once aware of it, a writer
can use it to add vitality and dimension to a screenplay.
     Most writers apply this knowledge subconsciously:  it's been
absorbed via osmosis from having seen and read so many stories in
which it's been employed.

                     IT'S NOT ABOUT PLOT POINTS

     It isn't about act breaks or turning points.  It does, however,
concern character and action, and thus it affects both
plot and characterization.  In addition, it can become a kind of
second-level theme.
     It's an old (but flexible) formula.  It goes back to the Greek
Epic poems about heroes like Odysseus.
     Hollywood grabbed it in the silent days.  You can even see it
in some of the Disney short-story cartoons of the mid-1930s.
     It serves as an underpinning for probably three-fourths of the
mainstream movies made today.

                       A RECIPE FOR UNDERDOGS

     What is this formula?  It's almost a recipe, really.  It's a
recipe for success, used – generally without planning, without
being fully conscious of it – by nearly every outmatched main
character who is up against a horrendous problem, trying to achieve
an immensely difficult goal, and/or pitted against a powerful
opponent.

     Which is a good way to describe the fundamental situation in
the great majority of movies.

     About three-fourths of Hollywood movies go something like
this:  an outmatched character (or pair, or team) struggles against
steep, sometimes overwhelming odds towards an important but
difficult goal.
     Most of the time, the main character, couple, or team is
successful.
     If we stop to think, we might wonder, "How *can* such an
outmatched character prevail against such odds?  How can they
succeed at all, much less in a believable, acceptable manner?  How
to make the victory both satisfying and credible?"
     These are important questions.  Knowing the answers to them is
critical to good storytelling.

                         WHY WE WATCH MOVIES

     Audiences don't want the reason for success to be luck.  Or
coincidence.  It's not satisfying.  And it's not helpful.
     Audiences want to see a solution which can, in some way, be of
use.  Because being helpful is, after all, one of the attractions
of movies.
     Besides providing an emotional experience, one reason we watch
movies is to see interesting people solve difficult life problems,
and to see them change as a result of this.
     Perhaps we, too, are capable of change, we think.  Perhaps,
even though our problems are different, we can follow some of the
same steps, and solve some of *our* difficult problems.

     And we are right.  We *can* apply some of what protagonists do
to our own lives.
     Let me repeat:  we enjoy movies for several reasons.  To have
an emotional experience.  To "escape" or to undergo vicarious
experiences.  To see people change, and get an inkling of how they do
it.  And *to see how significant life problems are solved and
how dreams can be realized.*

                        NO "DEUS EX MACHINA"
                              SOLUTIONS

     Therefore, we don't want to see luck as a key factor.  Luck
(or coincidence) is not in our control; it's not reliable.
     Nor do we want the central character to be saved by others; we
know when we seek to solve tough problems and achieve difficult
goals in our own lives, rarely will someone come riding to the
rescue.

     Luck, Coincidence, and Rescuing Protectors are all modern-day
equivalents of a "Deus ex Machina."  That's a Latin phrase for "God
from a machine," a dramatic device in some Greek and Roman plays in
which a God or Goddess would descend from a crane-pulley-rope
contraption, and then enter the scene and solve the problem.
     Audiences hated it.  It was a cheat.  Then and now, we want to
see the protagonists be primarily responsible for their success (or
lack of it).  Because we'll admire them more for it.  And maybe we
can *learn* from them.

                      WHAT'S AN UNDERDOG TO DO?

     So ... that leaves us back at square one.  How *can*
outmatched central characters overcome great odds and overwhelming
opposition?  In a manner that is both believable and possibly even
helpful to the viewer?
     It turns out there is a kind of success paradigm in many
movies.  It's a "Recipe for Success," if you will.  A recipe that
is believable and helpful.  Another way to describe it would be as
a Model for Goal Achievement and Problem Solving.  In fact, *it is a
model we as writers can also use to achieve success in our careers!*

     So what *is* this Design for Success?  It's a list of
attitudes and actions.  It's a set of character traits and problem-
and goal-related behaviors.  Not all of them need be used.  Their
order is completely flexible.  Some will usually be given more
emphasis than others.  And here's some good news ....

                     YOU KNOW MOST OF IT ALREADY

      Chances are you have subconsciously absorbed much of this and
will already have incorporated many of its steps in your present
outline or first draft.
     But by studying these steps and attitudes – becoming
consciously aware of them – you may find one or two you *didn't*
use.  Then ask yourself, "Can I add an incident or a scene in which
this step can be utilized, or change an existing scene to include
it?  If so, will it harm my story, or help it?"
     If the answer is that it helps your story, then a conscious
knowledge of this list will have paid off; your story will be that
much stronger.

     Here it is.  A flexible formula that doesn't guarantee, but
makes much more likely the solving of thorny problems, and the
achieving of difficult goals.  You can use it for your
protagonists.  And you can use it for yourself.

                       THE RECIPE FOR SUCCESS

                              1 -- GOAL

     Have a well-defined goal.  Without a goal that is clear and
specific, the chances for success diminish greatly.

                       2 -- STRONG MOTIVATION

     Be strongly motivated.  A difficult goal must be supported by
a fierce desire and compelling reasons.  Otherwise the goal will be
abandoned during the uphill struggle and the ordeal.

                        3 -- TOTAL COMMITMENT

     Be fully committed.  This is a necessary psychological state
to weather the storms ahead.  No "trying" allowed.  Complete
determination is needed:  "This is what I intend.  I WILL do it."

                              4 -- PLAN

     Come up with a good plan.  Without a well-considered plan (but
flexible if it needs revising), a person merely muddles through.
Working hard is not enough; we must also work smart.

                          5 -- PERSISTENCE

     Be intensely persistent.  There will be setbacks.  There will
be times we are discouraged and depressed.  As soon as we give up,
it's all over.  Persistence keeps us in the running.

                              6 -- WITS

     Use your head; be clever.  A person doesn't always need to be
well-educated or a genius.  But we must use whatever brains we have
to try to solve the problem and to out-think our opponents.  We
must be resourceful, maybe even tricky.  Creative thinking and
ingenuity can be crucial to success.

                           7 -- SUFFERING

     Be willing to endure pain.  The uphill path is strewn with
obstacles, setbacks, and confrontations; physical and emotional
pain will be encountered.  It's part of the price for victory.

                      8 -- STRENGTH AND SKILLS

     Whatever you have, use it.  Even if a person is weak and
incapacitated, there will be times when that limited strength must
be employed to the utmost.  Any special skills or knowledge must
also be remembered and employed.

                           9 -- ASSISTANCE

     Seek or accept help when needed.  When the opposition
overwhelms, few can go it totally alone.  Self-reliance is
necessary and admirable, but we show strength when we compensate
for our weaknesses by enlisting an ally or two.

                        10 -- MAXIMUM EFFORT

     Give it all you've got.  Being fully committed is a
psychological decision; this is the action phase.  For difficult
tasks, a half-hearted effort won't do.  One who is outmatched must
strain to give a total, 100% effort.  If not at first or all the
time, at least some of the time – and especially toward the end,
and whenever it really counts.

                         11 -- MORAL FACTOR

     Listen to your conscience.  If we violate our inner-voice,
part of our mind will work against us, and will often trip us up.
We may alienate our allies, as well.  When an evil person triumphs,
it's usually one without a conscience.  Those who have one and
continue to ignore it, jeopardize their chances for success.

                            12 -- COURAGE

     Summon up physical or emotional courage.  We must be willing
to be laughed at.  We must risk failure.  And sometimes even our
lives.  Fear is inevitable.  To continue despite our fears requires
courage.  We may not have known it was there, but to be successful,
we must summon it.  Success requires courage.

                               *  *  *

     There it is.  It's a common-sense list, when you think about
it.  There's  nothing startling here, nor any one thing which, by
itself, is profound.
     But it's the combination of these actions and attributes that
can transform the difficult into the possible.  For your characters
... for any person struggling with a difficult problem, task, or
goal ... and for a struggling screenwriter, trying to master the
craft and attain success.

     Furthermore:  incorporating this paradigm – this list of
problem- and goal-related traits and action steps – can make a
huge difference to your story; it can enrich and improve it
immensely.  Appropriately applied, this can provide not just added
credibility, but additional variety and vigor – even while
serving, almost subliminally, as a behavioral model for all who
seek to solve big problems and achieve difficult goals.  In short,
it can help your story, and it can help those reading or viewing
it as well.

     This may turn out to be just as important to story theory as
"Beginning, Middle, and End with two or three major turning
points."
     This doesn't supplant that structure, or any other kind of
structure.  Rather, it enhances structure; it's a potentially
valuable complement to story theme and story structure.

     Now let's look at each step of the Recipe for Success in more
detail.  We'll concentrate more specifically on how it relates to
your main character, to real-life people in general, and also to
you as a screenwriter.


(TO BE CONTINUED ...)

(End of Part 1; see Issues 2-4)
   (#2 will be sent tomorrow)


Copyright Jeff Newman, 2000


For information about Jeff Newman's "StoryNotes Screenplay
Evaluation Service," go to www.storynotes.net.