All Writing is Rewriting


If you want to increase your creative productivity, here are a few things you can do.
Forget about inexperience, insufficient budgets, or lack of resources, not knowing how to make yourself more productive is the main hurdle filmmakers have to overcome. Whether you procrastinate, are unorganized, or are easily distracted by push notifications blowing up your phone, this video from director/editor Jakob Owens of The Buff Nerds will help you find new ways (or reinforce some tried-and-true ones) to get to work on your film projects. Check it out below:

You've most definitely heard these tips before, but that's because they friggin' work. There's no magic thing you can do that will somehow make you a dynamo at work or give you some kind of cosmic energy that will help you get through your projects faster; all there is is good ol' fashioned preparation and discipline.
o    Wake up an hour earlier than usual: That's 7 extra hours per week, 30+ extra hours per month, and 365 extra hours per year that you can dedicate to working on projects.
o    Create a daily to-do list: Committing your tasks to paper helps you not only get things done but also avoid forgetting about things that need to get done.
o    Use a calendar to prepare for the future: I admit, I'm horrible at this, but managing a monthly and yearly calendar is essential for filmmakers. It helps you keep track of all of the billions of things that your clients need, as well as what needs to be completed during production.
o    Get rid of distractions: I know you like Facebook and the new season of Shameless and everything else that seems to become super interesting when you're trying to work, but you've gotta put that stuff away. My phone isn't allowed in my office when I'm writing, and I also use SelfControl to keep my dirty eyes off of tantalizing websites. (I've been all about watching Samantha Bee and cringe videos lately.)
o    Complete tasks one at a time: If you're one of those people (like me) who works on multiple tasks at a time, understand that often leads to not completing any of them. Focus all of your energy on one damn thing at a time, finish it, and move on.
o    Complete the biggest task first: This may not be your cup of tea—I know I'm not fond of this all the time, but you might want to try the "avalanche" approach to finishing tasks (as opposed to the "snowball" approach), tackling the biggest, baddest one on your list first so the rest of your workload is nothing but easy stuff.
o    Take short breaks to re-energize: It might be tempting to bulldoze your way through an entire project from start to finish, putting in 18-hour days without a day off, but that's not going to help you in the long run. Giving yourself short breaks throughout the day, as well as a day off here and there, will allow you to re-energize not only your body but your mind and creativity.

Your first draft is never your final draft.
I remember sitting in class and learning how to write a screenplay. I also recall the click of the keys when I sat down to write my first screenplay. It was an exciting feeling, but as I crossed from page one to page two, I was never sure where I’d be going. When I finally typed “Fade Out,” my heart was a flutter. But as you know, all writing is rewriting.
In this post, I’m going to take you through the basics of how to write a screenplay, helping you strategize how to move forward after draft one. As you know, you need a polished script to break in. That means going over it again and again. You better get used to hearing “all writing is rewriting.”
Let’s fade in…
When you get to the end, there’s a great sense of accomplishment and excitement.

How to Write A Screenplay

Screenplay writing is not an easy task and learning how to write a screenplay for a movie is an arduous task. It’s endless planning, problem solving, deleting, rewriting, and frustration. But when you get to the end, there’s a great sense of accomplishment and excitement.
If you’re willing to go through all that, I’m willing to give some advice on how to write a great screenplay.
The first thing I’d recommend is to create an outline.
Not getting stuck means you will finish. Finishing means you can rewrite.
How To Write A Screenplay with an Outline
A screenplay outline is like your map to treasure. If you determine where the story needs to go before hopping into your screenwriting software and typing a draft, you’ll be more likely to not get stuck. Not getting stuck means you will finish. Finishing means you can rewrite.
I like to break my outlines down in 15-page intervals. In the first 15 pages, I like to establish the characters, world, and the problem. In the next 15, I work on getting the gang together, learning their strengths and weaknesses, and thrusting the story into Act II.
The first 15 pages of Act II are for bonding the people and throwing the audience some curve balls, the next 15 pages are about putting everyone in a hard place. Things have to go wrong here. We’re then in Act III. The first 15 of Act III I break everything we knew apart and crush hopes and dreams. With the last 15, I put everything, or most things, back together again. That all adds up to around 90 pages, but you can add or subtract to each portion as necessary, depending on the number of characters, intricacies of plot, and intangibles.
What’s nice about this version of an outline is that you can go back to it over and over again. These chunks of pages are easy to look at a little at a time. That makes moving forward less intimidating and story elements easier to track.
That’s my routine, but you have to find yours. Sometimes it’s easier to learn screenplay writing by getting great at outlines, and then moving forward. But what if you just want to write blind and let is come as you go?
Movies can be a bunch of scenes where people try and fail to do things. When stacked together, they teach us a compelling lesson about how someone can arc (or not).
How Do You Write A Screenplay Without Planning?
Much like rapping, sometimes you have to freestyle to learn your story’s beats. I’ve never been great at this option, but it’s a strategy that works for some people in screenplay writing. When I try to use this strategy, I like to take every movie script scene by scene. Ask yourself, "Who’s in this scene? What do they want? How can I stop them from getting it?"
Movies can be a bunch of scenes where people try and fail to do things. When stacked together, they teach us a compelling lesson about how someone can arc (or not). If I’m writing without an outline, I start every day the same: at page one. This makes the process longer, but I find that refining where I was (and editing where I’m going) gets me the best first draft.
Even if the inclination is to move back, the key is to always move ahead. The more new pages you get every day, the more you can refine tomorrow. When I’m using this strategy. I may only write a few pages a day, but I set myself up when it comes time to go back and spend all my time tweaking and editing. I’ll have thought through lots of options and hopefully picked the best versions of each scene. It may take me much longer to finish a draft if I write without an outline, but I do wind up with a more solid piece of work to hone and tweak.
Come to terms with your idea, decide why you want to write it, and use that passion to push through the 100 pages.
But I came here to learn how to write a great screenplay…
Here’s the thing, there are no shortcuts in screenwriting. You have to sit and pound the pages. There are lots of tools that can help you along the way, but the brunt of the work has to be done in front of the computer screen.
Most first drafts aren’t great. In fact, most first drafts aren’t even good. You have to have a first draft to move anything forward. You’re not going to achieve learning how to write a great screenplay by reading a blog or Googling for tips. You’re going to do it by putting your butt in a seat and typing.
Come to terms with your idea, decide why you want to write it, and use that passion to push through the 100 pages. Outline. Or don’t. Just write. So let’s say you’ve made it and your first draft is complete. Where do you go from here?
You can get a first draft done, but the best scripts are sculpted.

All Writing is Rewriting

After I finish my first draft, I treat myself to something. It could be new sneakers, movie tickets, a short trip somewhere fun, or really anything to reward myself for the struggle of getting up the mountain. A few days later, I crane my neck back and look at the real summit.
I told you we’d say it over and over, but all writing is rewriting. You can get a first draft done, but the best scripts are sculpted. You chip away at stories, characters, and motivations until they sizzle and pop off the page. I usually try to attack the rewrite in a few stages. The first thing I do is lock the story. All of my first passes are just getting the scenes in the right order. I then worry about character arcs, and I do a dialogue pass at the very end.
I tweak action lines as I go, but my writing style is pretty sparse. I don’t use a lot of metaphors of flowery language, so I don’t think too hard about anything beside whether or not it’s clear what’s happening on the page. For me, the rewrite passes are the best parts of writing. You can take more chances here, delete pages, move things around, and really have fun with the story.
As you lock the scene order, you can get into characterization. I love doing individual passes for each person, really making their voice come off the page, giving them individual ticks and maybe repeated expressions. Anything to cause emotions to soar. Finally, I hit the dialogue and get rid of unnecessary lines and exposition. This is where I’m at my most ruthless and where I lose the most pages. Sure, all writing is rewriting, but how do you know when to stop? 
I like to give myself a few weeks off between drafts. I get individual feedback from friends, and then I go to my manager. He and I strategize, finding a point where it feels like we’re in a good place to bring on other voices like directors and producers. Then, if I haven’t been paid, I usually set a limit to the number of free passes I’m willing to embark on. That could be one for the producer and two for the director that comes on. Finally, when we go to buyers, I make sure my team is aware that the free work is done. I’ll do as many paid passes as it takes to get the movie into production, but that’s another story for another time.
As I mentioned earlier, you have to crank out the pages to become a professional writer. There is a blue-collar mentality to it. Even if screenwriting isn’t your day job, you have to be willing to put in the hours in on nights and weekends to make your dreams and projects come to fruition. I look forward to reading your work soon!    

Breaking down the steps that can help realize the dream.

I’ve recently been teaching a few courses on screenwriting, and inevitably when it comes time for the Q&A the first question asks the steps on how to become a screenwriter. 
Learning how to become a screenwriter isn’t an easy task. Part of the problem is that no two people have the same breaking in story. Still, there are a few decent steps that apply to most screenwriters I know.
How These Steps Teach You How to Become a Professional Screenwriter
For me, learning how to become a professional screenwriter was a bit of an arduous process. I moved to Los Angeles after finishing graduate school, and took a few unpaid internships. I interned at Scott Free, in the Mad Men Writer’s Room, and for a manager named Myra Model. Are these the only ways to get where you want to go? 
No. But what these steps can help you do is get a sense of the industry, and figure out what part of it you want to be in and why. 
So let's get into it!
How To Become A Screenwriter Step 1: Internships! Jobs!
Those internships became a battleground where I learned a lot about the industry. But they were also a proving ground where I saw professional writers in their element.
There’s only so much you can learn about how to become a screenwriter in school. It’s way more important to get out in the real world. I also got to learn about how hard it was to work in the industry.
While the internships I did were unpaid, a struggle in itself, they taught me a lot about the workload I could handle, ways to budget my time, and as a result they were a graduate school unto themselves.
Spoiler alert, I did not succeed all the time.
In the beginning, I was great at tasks like getting coffee and lunches, but I had a lot to learn about Hollywood and the way writers work.
I’ll be perfectly honest, I was not a great intern at Mad Men. I was too scared to ask questions, and incredibly intimidated by the level of writers around me to make myself useful. It took me learning some hard lessons there to be good at my other internships. But that failure didn't stop me. It actually helped me. 
Luckily, I heeded those lessons and wasn’t an unpaid intern for long. I was promoted at Scott Free to a floater, and then I became the assistant to the president.
My official title went from intern to runner, to floater, to assistant, and eventually, I was a story editor. The pay always stayed pretty low. 
But it was better than $0 as an intern.
So how does all that teach you how to become a screenwriter?
It helps us see that there is more to becoming a full-time writer than writing. What exactly?
There’s pitching, there’s handling agents and managers, working with directors and producers, and even relating to fellow writers.
My internships put me into the ring with some of the most successful writers of film and television. I got to watch their habits. The way they outlined, broke story, gave feedback, and took criticism. And we still haven't even gotten to the most valuable thing it gave me. 
I made the necessary contacts to get my material read. Suddenly, I was able to get crucial feedback and a foot in the door.
Getting feedback from your Mom and best friend can be great for self-esteem, but if you want to make it in this business, you need to know what working professionals think.
Most of us don’t have access to a development executive on a daily basis, but interning in Hollywood can put you on or near their desk. You can hear how they think, learn what they love, and then apply that as you see fit to your own writing.
How to Become a Screenwriter Lesson 1:
You can be a great writer, but if you can’t navigate the business, you can never move forward.   
How To Become A Screenwriter Step 2: Write A LOT.     
Look, I know this is a cop-out step, but here is why you should still listen to me:
I know a ton of people who tell me about their one amazing spec screenplay. They've spent years working on it. They think it’s perfect. And it might be. But what if it’s not?
Or what if it’s perfect but Disney has a competing project?
Or what if the life-rights are tangled up?
My point is this, if you want to learn how to become a screenwriter, you need to put the effort into writing and breaking screenplays. Not screenplay. It's a hugely important difference. The effects of which are far reaching. What do I mean by that? Let me tell you more from my own story.
Shovel Buddies was the second script I ever wrote. After that, I spent a ton of time writing less successful scripts, but the more I wrote the faster I got. The more efficient, the more I learned how to cut, edit, and build character.
Sure, Shovel Buddies made the Black List and helped me become a screenwriter, but the other scripts in between helped me book other assignments.
They proved that I had other stories inside me, that I knew how to work well with others, and that I was getting better on the page. 
We can all get caught up in the idea of produced credits. They’re valuable, and if you want to advance your screenwriting career, produced credits matter.
But when you’re starting out, what you really want to do is produce quality work, develop your voice, and stay in the conversation. Why?
Because Hollywood is built on “What have you done for me lately.” You can’t rely on that spec from five years ago to keep you relevant. That’s why you have to be constantly creating. To stay on the tips of tongues and at the fore of executives minds. There are even more reasons to keep writing. 
Another is that there are a lot of jobs out there. You might be closing yourself off from them without the appropriate samples. There’s no exact number of spec screenplays you should have, but I would recommend having AT LEAST one feature and two pilots to show people. 
And you should have a few ideas of what you want to write next. The catch wtih those?
These can’t be barely finished. They HAVE TO be polished, ready, and proofed. And you have to be excited about them. 
Lots of people break in when someone asks to read their script and then passes it up the ladder. You’re not going to get passed up the ladder or win a contest with a script that’s not finished.
How to Become a Screenwriter Lesson 2:
If your first project doesn’t sell, maybe the next one will. Or the one after that. It’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon. Keep writing!
How To Become A Screenwriter Step 3: Win a contest.
All screenwriting contests are scams.
Wait, what?
Yes, you heard me right. They’re scams. Contests, from the Nicholl to ScreenCraft, are all inherently scams. They are built off people paying $50-$100 (or more) to send their screenplays in to be evaluated by industry readers.
Screenwriter John Gary talks about “the hope machine.” It’s a theory that Hollywood profits off giving people the hope that any day, any time, they can “make it” in the industry.
Contests profit off that hope, so be wary. Film is a subjective medium. One contest may hate your script, but the readers from another contest might love it.
It’s hard to predict this stuff, so chose organizations with a long history and that seem to break more prominent writers.
Many of these contests provide no feedback, they just tell you if you cut it or not.
If you’re going to try the contest route, I STRONGLY encourage you to do your research. What do I mean by that? Ask yourself:
Who is reading your script?
What have past winners done in the aftermath?
Does your entry fee get you any perks?
Personally. I would advise against submitting to any contests that didn’t come with feedback on your entry. Otherwise, you’re throwing your money into the abyss. On the other hand...
Placing or winning a contest can give you the necessary exposure you need to make a dent in this town, especially if you’re not located in Hollywood.
In 2013, I put my script, Shovel Buddies, on the Black List website. I paid the fee to host, and I paid for professional readers to provide me coverage on the screenplay. This was a good idea and I'll tell you why. 
While this was not a contest, the site did rank my script against others. When Shovel Buddiesscored highly, I started getting agents and managers reaching out quite quickly.
At the time, I think I had invested about $250 worth of reads and hosting. In the end, that was a small investment for what turned out to break me into the professional screenwriting scene.
Still, the only way I stayed professional was to follow Step 2 and to keep writing.
How to Become a Screenwriter Lesson 3:
Not all contests are created equal. Research, spend wisely, and be careful.
How To Become A Screenwriter Step 4: Make A Connection
As I mentioned earlier, at some point the way to become a professional screenwriter is to get read, passed up the ladder, repped, and eventually sell something or get hired on an open writing assignment.
The only way any of this happens is if you put as much energy into making connections as you do into writing. Because what good is it to have a bunch of great scripts if you don’t have the people to read them and pass them up the ladder.
I made a ton of connections when I was an assistant, it was easy to find people who would come of age with me in the industry. These are now the people hiring and producing me.
So go out there and make some friends with execs who can read you.
The best way to do that is to live and work in Los Angeles. But what can you do if you’re not in Los Angeles?
Make the time to attend festivals that have screenwriting mixers. Places like Austin Film FestSXSW, and Sundance all have labs and outlets for writers. The bottom line: 
Find places you can meet people also making movies and creating content. Even forums and message boards. Share material, share ideas, and connect. 
I’m not a fan of pitch-fests, but if you research and think they’re good for you, go ahead check them out.
You can also cruise places like LinkedIn, but most people won’t read cold call scripts or emails.
How to Become a Screenwriter Lesson 4:
Hollywood is all about who you know. Network. Reach out. Be a good person. If your reputation is good, the work will find you.
Summing Up The How To Become A Screenwriter Steps…
Hopefully, now you have some clarity on how to become a professional screenwriter. No two people have the same entryway, but these steps can help direct you toward success. Or at the very least direct you towards a better understanding of the whole process.
No matter what, booking an agent or a manager is only the beginning. You have to spend the rest of your time pitching, writing new things, and pounding the pavement. No article or blog can substitute for hard work. 
Writing is a personal journey, and even if you do all these steps, Hollywood doesn’t owe you anything. Keep writing, keep making connections, and if you do it from a place of passion good things may follow.
You get better with every script, and you never know whose business card you’ll accept around the next turn.
Write on!

"Your content is everything. May it be for a film, tvc or tv, it holds the utmost power. Always look for good content, regardless of its source. "

"No institute, or person can teach you film making. So don't invest your hard earn money on them. Just keep practising the art, learn only that much what you need. Don't stick with internet/social media world too much. Use them as per your requirements. Keep your mind free, don't give a stress. Sleep well, read stories, explore the world and knowledge within and around you."

DIRECTING DIALOGUES
I believe a film is a transformation of one man's vision into a thousand men's criticism. And the step where a director starts directing his/her dialogues to an actor is the first intervention of a second mind. What you want as a director is to be performed by another person. So the translation of thoughts has to be very precise and in its purest form. And the actor at the receiving end must have that same psyche to understand it. Most importantly it has to repeat correctly a thousand times throughout the entire process of the filmmaking, so as to get the closest of what the director had thought of.
So directing dialogue is very crucial and most importantly the actor must grab what the director does not only want you to understand but also want you to feel and read in-between the lines. Everything cannot be expressed in words. As an actor, we must feel, sense and react to some unspoken words as well. And if you successfully do it, you get a 'wow' from the director, and then you know that you both are connecting beyond words. That is why directors choose to repeat some actors in some vital roles, simply because they connect with each other, beyond words.
Secondly, I believe the notion of taking pauses in dialogues in new age Indian cinema is very badly managed. There are exceptions, as always but we are so much into visual drama, with overpowering musical effects that we don't feel like putting in effort in dialogues and its delivery. I remember I read an article where Sir Satyajit Ray was asked how he direct dialogues? And I would like to quote his lines, he said.
"All actors are afraid of pauses because they can’t judge their weight. So with Sharmila Tagore in The World of Apu, I would say—“Well, you stop at this point and then resume when I tell you to resume.” So she would just stop and look at a certain point that had been previously indicated, and then I’d say—“Yes, now go on,” and she would resume. So the pauses would be there as I would need them. Otherwise, actors are terribly afraid of pauses, and it’s only the greatest professionals who know the real strength, the power, of pauses. For all non-actors and for inferior professionals, they just can’t judge pauses at all. For me, pauses are very important: something happening, waiting for the words, and when the words come you have that weight. So the pauses have to be worked out constantly.
Once he has memorized the line, it’s the hardest thing for an actor to make it sound as if he is thinking and talking rather than just mouthing lines. Sometimes there are certain words that don’t come easily. You must have the pause before a certain word. Not everybody is a linguist with a great command of vocabulary, so you have to vary it with actors, and those pauses are very significant. Sometimes you just can’t think of a word so you just hesitate, you see, and somebody else supplies it for you. So my dialogue is written like that, with a very plastic quality, which has its own filmic character, which is not staged dialogue, not literary dialogue. But it’s as lifelike as possible, with all the hems and haws and stuttering and stammering."
I believe a good director is also a good teacher. A teacher does not always mean that he will teach you a lesson. The capability of explaining something adequately is also an important attribute of a teacher. So a director who can explain, or shall I repeat a director who can resettle himself and his thoughts into the skin of his actor is going to get the best culmination.

Every story has an arc, which is its defining shape.
Kurt Vonnegut once described one of the shapes as "boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl." In other words, the arc goes up, down, then up again.
To create an emotional journey, every story must have a form. Researchers at the Computational Story Lab at the University of Vermont in Burlington analyzed the arcs of 1,700 different public domain stories and found out that they all break down into six different basic shapes.
As reported by the MIT Technology Review, the study analyzed the emotional sentiment of different words. By measuring the emotional of those words from moment to moment, they created shapes for each story.

Here are the six different types of stories they found with examples, per the Review:

1.    A steady, ongoing rise in emotional valence as in a rags-to-riches story such as Alice's Adventures Underground by Lewis Carroll.
2.    A steady ongoing fall in emotional valence as in a tragedy such as Romeo and Juliet.
3.    A fall then a rise, such as the man-in-a-hole story, discussed by Vonnegut.
4.    A rise then a fall, such as the Greek myth of Icarus.
5.    A rise then a fall, such as the Greek myth of Icarus. Rise-fall-rise, such as Cinderella.
6.    Fall-rise-fall, such as Oedipus.
The most popular stories, according to the researchers, are Icarus (rise then fall) and Oedipus (fall, then rise, then fall again). But it turns out that readers and writers also like books that are made of complex sequences of these different story arcs. So if you're worried that complex multigenerational novel you're working on may not be simple enough, there's no need to worry.
According to a data-mining study, Western literature can mostly fit into just six story arcs. This doesn’t surprise us at Writers Write.
We always say there are no new plots. The only thing that you have as a writer is your way of telling a story. Fairy tales have been around forever and there is no reason why you should not to re-use these story lines when you are planning your novel.

What Are Story Arcs?
The Oxford English Dictionary defines a story arc as (in a novel, play, or film) the development or resolution of the narrative or principal theme.
A story arc is the shape of your story. The shape can be described as rises and falls on a graph. This shape is created by characters who encounter difficulties as they try to reach their story goals. Satisfying story arcs follow the Aristotlean principles of a story having a beginning, a middle, and an ending.
A good story is driven by well-defined characters in conflict with others and circumstances. A strong arc is created by cause and effect, and it will have tension resulting in rises and falls. The pacing of the story will also affect this shape.

The 6 Main Story Arcs In Fiction
Researchers from the University of Vermont and the University of Adelaide collected computer-generated story arcs for nearly 2 000 works of fiction. (Read the report.)
Based on what happens to the protagonist in the stories, they classified them into six core types of narratives:
1.    Rags to Riches (rise)
2.    Man in a Hole (fall then rise)
3.    Cinderella (rise then fall then rise)
4.    Riches to Rags (fall)
5.    Oedipus (fall then rise then fall)
6.    Icarus (rise then fall)
How do you write a novel that has satisfying structure? The story arc or narrative arc of a novel is something you can consciously develop in your outline or as you draft to create cohesive structure. Read 5 steps to make your novel’s arcs work:

First, a story arc definition
The Oxford English Dictionary defines a story arc as ‘(in a novel, play, or movie) the development or resolution of the narrative or principal theme’.
Story arcs are the overall shape of rising and falling tension or emotion in a story. This rise and fall is created via plot and character development.
The Ancient Greek thinker Aristotle (367 BC – 347 BC) wrote in his Poetics about effective dramatic structure:
‘A whole should have a beginning, middle and an end… A well constructed plot … must neither begin nor end at haphazard.’
A strong storytelling arc follows this principle. It shows rise and fall, cause and effect, in a way that makes sense.
How do you create novel arcs that satisfy? Try these steps:
1. Borrow from classic, archetypal plot arcs
Adrienne Lafrance describes archetypal plot arcs as ‘core types of narratives (based on what happens to the protagonist).’ The six core types are:
1. Rags to Riches [a complete rise]
2. Riches to Rags [a fall]
3. Man in a Hole [fall then rise]
4. Icarus [rise then fall]
5. Cinderella [rise then fall then rise]
6. Oedipus [fall then rise then fall]
These narrative arcs are called ‘archetypal’ because they are the common patterns that countless stories follow, albeit with variation.
Here is an example of the first type of arc:
Charles Dickens’ classic novel Great Expectations follows the protagonist Pip, an orphan, from boyhood into adulthood. In the course of this rags to riches story, Pip gains wealth and status due to a mystery benefactor.
This example could also fit the ‘Icarus’ story arc, however. Even though Pip gains wealth and status, he’s spurned by his love interest, Estella. He also discovers a shocking truth about the identity of his mystery benefactor. Thus Great Expectations shows how a good story often will combine multiple plot archetypes to create complex structure.
In a multi-character novel, one character’s arc might follow a ‘rags to riches’ structure, while another’s could be the reverse, ‘riches to rags’. Even for a single character (as with Pip), part of your character’s arc can follow one structure (i.e. Pip’s increasing fortune) while another part does the opposite (Pip’s romantic disappointment).
To create a satisfying arc for your story, borrow structure from famous stories. Give each central character their own complex story arc. A character’s ‘rags to riches’ could be metaphorical – they might simply gain knowledge or wisdom. Create contrasts by making your characters’ paths follow different story arc templates.

2: Use the ‘5 W’s’ to plan each plot arc
The ‘5 W’s’ (‘who’, ‘what’, ‘why’, ‘where’ and ‘when’) are the basic building blocks of stories. [You can brainstorm the 5 W’s of your story using our step-by-step prompt process.] Because a story is essentially the 5 w’s plus change, think about how each might change and impact your story arc in the process. When planning how your plot arc will develop and change, ask:
1.    How will the cast of my story (the ‘who’) grow or diminish? In what ways will new central or secondary characters create extra tension, plot complications or emotional impact?
2.    What new character motivations (the ‘why’) or external forces will affect the course of the the narrative arc? Could a misguided motivation, for example, lead to a fall for a character, followed by enlightenment and change?
3.    How will the setting of your story change (the ‘when’ and ‘where’) and what could this add to story arcs? For example, relocating to a more tense setting as drama increases (e.g. shifting to a courtroom setting in a crime thriller)
4.    The ‘what’ of your story should remain fairly constant. The themes and subject matter of your novel need to have some relation to each other for your story to feel cohesive.
It’s easier to pay equal attention to each of the 5 w’s when you have a blueprint, a summary of each aspect of your novel. Use Now Novel’s idea finder to flesh out the 5 W’s, and brainstorm the themes, characters, settings and other details of your story.
3. Make visual diagrams of your dramatic structure
To truly build a strong sense of the shape of your novel’s action, it helps to create a visual representation of your story’s structure. Derek Sivers says this is what Kurt Vonnegut did at a talk he gave in New York to illustrate why the children’s story ‘Cinderella’ has successful dramatic structure:
Once you have your novel’s core events and themes worked out, plot these on a timeline similarly. Your vertical axis doesn’t have to be ‘misery’ to ‘ecstasy’. For a fantasy novel, for example, where your hero must defeat a tyrant, your story could move from ‘oppression’ to ‘freedom’.
Visualizing your story this way will help you find ways to add reversals and turns of events (like when Cinderella has to leave the prince’s ball) that sustain narrative tension and keep readers guessing.
4: Create lesser arcs within your primary narrative arc
In successful novels, dramatic structure often doesn’t unfold in one single, grand arc. Several smaller sequences of rising and falling action within the larger story develop themes and secondary characters. Series in particular combine multiple arcs in order to sustain interest and tension within a larger, overarching plot arc.
To take an example, in J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series, Harry’s conflict with Voldemort is the major story conflict. It sustains the series’ tension across all 7 books. Yet in individual books there are lesser villains and story arcs (such as the arrival of the vicious Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Dolores Umbridge and her abusive behaviour towards the students). These lesser conflicts and their trajectories give each novel a self-contained quality and satisfying story arc of its own.
Creating smaller arcs within your main dramatic arc (even if you’re not writing a series) has multiple benefits:
·         You have other sources of tension and narrative interest during stretches of your story where primary conflicts move to the background. This maintains story momentum
·         Your smaller arcs give you means to develop your characters and tease out central themes. For example, Umbridge’s abuse of her power further shows power’s corrupting potential. This is a central theme of the series, emphasised in Harry’s primary conflict with the main villain, Voldemort.
·         Smaller arcs supply additional stakes, adding tension. For example, the secondary relationships characters form over the course of Harry Potter give them more to lose as the threatening villain grows more powerful
5: Make your story’s middle fluctuate more to sustain interest
A sagging or muddled story middle loses momentum. Don’t let the reader wander off, never to return. Instead, make the middle chapters of your book fluctuate more.
If you scroll up to Vonnegut’s Cinderella example, you’ll notice that the reversal where Cinderella has to leave the ball (before her carriage turns back into a pumpkin) occurs around the midway mark. If your novel is a tragedy following a ‘riches to rags’ path, the middle could be where your character seems to have a change of luck before the shocking denouement.
The structure of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings cycle provides a good example of keeping the middle strong.
Book one of the cycle, The Fellowship of the Ring, introduces the powerful yet dangerous One Ring and Frodo and his fellow travellers’ quest to destroy it. There are complications aplenty in the first book, such as when the wizard Gandalf is attacked and possibly killed by the Balrog, an ancient demon.
In the second book, however, The Two Towers, there are even more complications. Some of the original members of Frodo’s quest party are kidnapped (raising stakes). We also learn the fate of Gandalf, and Frodo and Sam gain an unreliable guide, Gollum –  the former finder and keeper of the ring who was corrupted by its power.
Tolkien thus increases complications and uncertainties in the middle of his cycle, making the rising and falling of the middle volatile and unpredictable. This accelerated pace of change keeps the story arc intriguing.


Sometimes it's better to learn from other people's mistakes instead of your own.  
As it is with anything, your first few years of filmmaking is going to be a little rocky, making some pretty big, messy, and even embarrassing mistakes left and right. However, you do have the option of making far fewer of them, that is if you know what they are and how to avoid them. In this video, Jay P. Morgan of the Slanted Lens teams up with filmmaker Kenneth Merrill to go over some of the most common mistakes beginner filmmakers make when they first start shooting, as well as what you can do to ensure that you don't fall into the same traps. Check it out below:
Okay, so the craft of filmmaking is bursting with opportunities to make a misstep, so suffice it to say that this little list barely scratches the surface about what to expect when you first get going. However, it does give you a pretty good idea of the kinds of techniques and concepts that often go unnoticed by novices, from camera movement to sound recording.
Let's quickly go over the tips Morgan and Merrill talk about in the video:
o    Not moving the camera:  "Put camera on tripod." It could be the mantra of every Filmmaking 101 instructor in the universe, but 1.) they only say that because they're friggin' tired of watching horrible handheld work, and 2.) that's not always going to be the best option to tell your visual story. Learn different ways of moving the camera, including handheld, using sliders, dollies, mini-jibs, and whatever else you've got on hand. Then, educate yourself on the visual significance of those moves.
o    Neglecting sound: Sound is often more important than visuals. Do not make the mistake of being unintentional or careless with the way you record audio, because if your audience can't stand to listen to your crackling, buzzing, mind-numbing humming audio, then they will no longer be your audience.
o    Overuse of depth-of-field: I know that bokeh looks cool, but is it right for your shot? What do I mean? Well, shallow depth-of-field implies that what's in focus is very, very important. If it's not, at least in any kind of particular way, then you might want to think about deepening that focus.
o    Not getting enough coverage: Don't shoot all wides, my friends! Shot size is an incredibly important aspect of filmmaking, so be sure to get enough coverage so your editor has enough to work with. Here's a cool coverage technique you can try.
o    No story: Story is king. If you don't have one, don't bother busting out your gear.
There are so many friggin' mistakes that you're going to make as a beginner filmmaker— hell, you're stilling going to be making some of them (and a few new ones) as a veteran! What is one mistake you want to warn new filmmakers about? Let us know down in the comments.     



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