Showing posts with label Structure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Structure. Show all posts

Sunday, September 13, 2026

Edith's Hope ReStarts with Structure

For the past six decades (and longer in some respects), I have been exposed to and collected a literal trunk-full of stories and research about an intrepid adventurer and courageous soul who defied the women's suffrage movement here in the US at the turn of the 18th century,  and set off on her own to the other side of the world to make her mark on civilization by caring for the destitute and lost. 

My grandmother, Edith Jane Willobee, in her elderly years, hammocked me as a babe in arms, prayed for me daily, and left behind—a thousand pages of diaries, hundreds of photographs, a few Hindu clay idols, a dozen brass pots and other mementos, a string of amber beads, and most importantly ... stories that Hollywood would need to water down to make them believable. 

The story (and the diary) that stands out chronicles her journey as a recent widow from the middle of British India in 1926, with her 12- and 15-year-old daughters, as she tries to bring them to America and introduce them to Western civilization. It's an audacious trek that, at every turn, forces her to battle men of various sizes, shapes, and cultures to get her girls safely to America. 

The story was first outlined 25 years ago; today, September 13, 2026, marks the start of manuscript development as I build a structural outline based on everything I've been teaching, workshopping, and writing about since 1998.


My next task is to re-read every one of the hundreds of documents in my research folder, make at least one lengthy research trip to collect more information (on the scandals), and fill in that black space with the salient content. It's going to take a while, but it'll be enjoyable.

Tuesday, July 1, 2025

SABRIYA Writing Journal 4: Writing Rules

I've started to write, after many weeks of planning and plotting. Now, the rules of writing, for me, will vary day-to-day. Not that the rules change, but because I'll forget them from one day to the next. Thus, the critical need to rewrite and remember the rules.

MY WRITING RULES:

The following assume I've taken the time to outline the story, and completed due diligence in researching the broader aspects of the era and characters—both critical writing tasks, which in this case I've done. The rules below are not about general research, planning or plotting (see Journal entires 1-3) but about stringing the words together for the first time.  

  1. VISUALIZE FIRST. Take time to visualize the scene as if watching a movie. This may be the most time consuming thing about writing—NOT WRITING.
  2. START OBJECTIVE. Every scene should begin with a paragraph from an objective or universal Point-of-View (POV) that describes the setting and characters in the scene with a disaster close at hand. By objective POV I mean the POV of someone NOT in the scene—the narrator—who can see everything about the scene, e.g. God's POV.
  3. ONE POV. After that first objective POV paragraph, every other paragraph in a scene must be told from a single character's POV who is IN THE SCENE, perhaps the POV of the most emotionally conflicted character.
  4. WRITE FOR IRONY. Every description, and perhaps line of dialogue, should contain an ironic comparison. 
  5. WRITE TO TARGET. First draft not so much, but second draft must condense word count to the target number, OR revise the rest of the chapter or book so word count goal (overall) is observed.
  6. WRITE ATTITUDE. Write with an emotional attitude that channels the POV character. Nothing in this world is clean and objective. Even God has an attitude, and sometimes he expresses it with catastrophic results. Attitudes vary from sarcasm to sweetness, from retribution to forgiveness. Vary the attitude as you vary the POV. 
  7. END ON CLIFF. Every scene ends with a cliffhanger described by Step 3 (the disaster step) of the Scene-Sequel structure pattern. In some cases this may be an objective, universal POV, like the first paragraph of the scene. (more on Scene-Sequel below)
  8. RIGHT WORD. Never hesitate to take the time to find the right word, turn of phrase, or trope. (more on tropes below)


Scene-Sequel Structure Pattern


Writing in a Scene-Sequel pattern is a method of structuring your writing at a paragraph, sentence, or micro level. If you deconstruct the best fiction writers' output, you will see it. I always start out writing a new project by following this pattern anally, by putting these hidden steps in Scrivener to constantly remind me. After a few weeks, the pattern becomes almost automatic.


In every scene-sequel sequence there is a DISASTER that spurs the action forward (or in a new direction...a mini-turning point). Here's a diagram from my on-line workshop (Storycraft Training). An explanation follows.
Novel Scene-Sequel Sequence (simplified)
Running from left to right in the above diagram. (1) The protagonist has a physical GOAL to achieve. (2) The protagonist takes action to achieve that goal, and in so doing creates CONFLICT with the antagonist. (3) Because of the conflict, the goal is not fully achieved, resulting in a DISASTER. (4) The protagonist experiences an EMOTIONAL REACTION, which acts as a motivation to keep going. (5) The protagonist spends some time evaluating in his mind (THOUGHT) the DILEMMA faced, until... (6) The protagonist makes a decision about the next goal and takes the fist steps to achieve it. [And the process REPEATS starting with the new goal.]

Tropes

Using tropes in your writing is like writing with subtext—it keeps the reader intrigued and intellectually engaged.  Here is a summary of useful tropes copied from Google's AI engine.
Tropes are recurring themes, ideas, or literary devices used in storytelling. They can be categorized into various types. Tropes can be elements of character, plot, or setting, and they often reappear in different stories, sometimes becoming defining characteristics of a genre. 
Here's a breakdown of some common types of literary tropes: 
Metaphor: A comparison between two unlike things without using "like" or "as" (e.g., "Juliet is the sun"). 
Simile: A comparison between two unlike things using "like" or "as" (e.g., "Her smile was like sunshine"). 
Irony: A figure of speech in which words are used in such a way that their intended meaning is different from the actual meaning of the words (e.g., saying "Oh, fantastic!" when something bad happens). 
Synecdoche: A figure of speech in which a part is used to represent the whole (e.g., "wheels" for a car). 
Metonymy: A figure of speech in which one thing is used to represent something else with which it is closely associated (e.g., "the crown" for the monarchy). 
Hyperbole: Exaggeration used for emphasis or effect. 
Litotes: Understatement, often for ironic effect (e.g., saying "not bad" when something is actually very good). 

Monday, June 30, 2025

SABRIYA Writing Journal 3: Word Counts


I draft in Scrivener, which allows me to set target word lengths for each scene within a chapter.  Below I've expanded the Excel spreadsheet from Journal Entry No. 1, to calculate the word length for each chapter and scene, all based on the treatment. THESE ARE ALL TARGETS AND THEY WILL CHANGE, BUT THIS ANAL WORK  PROVIDES A FOUNDATION AND DIRECTION. The closer I stay to it, the closer I will arrive at my target book length.

The table below shows that there are 17 chapters of lengths 3250 to 4500 words. There are 63 scenes of lengths 500 to 4500, the 4500 scene filling an entire chapter (9). The average scene length being only 1143 words.  The final manuscript target length being 72,000 words.

The "0" cells compare two different ways to calculate the word counts so they add up to 72,000. If one of the "0" cells does not show a "0" I know one of my calculations is wrong. Notice the chapter breaks favor the length of the chapter and not the end of one of the 21 macro beats (grey).

The green lines represent the backstory, flashbacks discussed in Journal Entry No. 2— notice the FB scenes are very short, as flashbacks should be.


Everyday when I think through this stuff I imagine a revision to the treatment or micro beats. I make notes of those in the treatment, which I will be following as I write. In fact, when I write a scene, I'll copy the treatment paragraphs for that scene and paste them into the Scrivener document,  which gives me beginning copy for that scene. For instance just before starting this journal entry I copied the treatment paragraph for Chapter 1 Scene 1 into Scrivener. I have the target for that scene set to 1,000 words. The treatment paragraphs were only 275 words. That gets me going and I started to rewrite and expand.

Here's what the Scrivener Binder (left margin) looks like for the first four chapters and 12 scenes.




Each one of those 12 scenes (text documents) has a word length target set for it. As I write, a growth bar appears at the bottom of my manuscript page in blue. When I hit the target of 1,000 words the bar will turn green. If I go beyond 1,000 words the growth bar will turn red. After I pasted in the treatment paragraph to what I was calling Shenzhen (but it's changed now to Hong Chi) I edited the first sentence. The document was then 271 words of my 1,000 and this is what the bottom of the page looked like...


If I write 1,223 words it looks like this, meaning I'm over and must edit down, thus keeping me on target.




So, I have started to write, although I will stop often to research what I am writing about. My protagonist, in addition to being the glamorous Thai wife of the British consulate, is also a Wing Chun practitioner of some advanced skill.  Wing Chun is the mysterious and hidden form of Kung Fu developed by Ypi Man (1893–1972) who passed it on to Bruce Lee's who made the form famous. So, one of my research steps will be to watch the "Ip Man" Blu Ray trilogy...for the third time.

Ah, here''s my first sentence... I'm sure it will change:

In the dead of night thirty-three thousand taxi sedans and motorcycles jammed the streets of Hong Chi shuttled men and women from the crowded luxury shops in Chao, to the colorful nightlife in Yezong and the go-go bars of Qu Plaza, where hundreds of young women exposed their assets just a block from Assumption Cathedral in one direction and the stiff upper lip British Consulate in the other. 

A distant siren wailed.

Thursday, June 26, 2025

SABRIYA Writing Journal 2: Plotting Tools


I have finished the preliminary plotting for my novel about Sabriya of Shanghai. Let me share what I've done in the last few days.

Steps 1-7: (discussed in blog post Journal Entry 1)  I constructed a slide in Keynote (4000 pixels x 2500 pixels) and divided the slide into 21 columns, each corresponding to the 21 macro beats of the story I intend to write. These would be the same 21 beats I'd use for a screenplay and are a reliable structure into which to drop particular story beats (or cards), a process called "breaking the story," i.e. I'm breaking down the story into relatable chunks, scenes, or events.

Step 8

Figure 1

Figure 1 shows how I parsed the formerly written movie treatment for Sabriya into 87 smaller beats, each closely associated with scenes. I'll end up with 100–120 such beats after the manuscript is written as many of the beats in the middle of the story (and above graphic) are summarized.

The first column of the above figure is the "Prologue" or back story that proceeds the present day beats. The events  in the Prologue are necessary to fully understanding the drama that unfolds later.  Years ago I considered that the prologue story could be told as flashbacks during the telling of the present day story. I imagine that withholding the backstory at first, and revealing it slowly through flashbacks will create additional intrigue. In story time there is perhaps a 10-year gap  between the end of the Prologue and the beginning of the next column known as "Life before" or the first half of Act 1. 

Step 9

Figure 2

I decided to disburse the prologue beats throughout the present day story as a slowly revealed series of flashbacks. So, I turned them green for clarity. Not very evident in Figure 2 is that I clumped the Prologue beats into six clumps each clump occurring chronologically close in time. Thus, the Prologue can be considered to contain just six beats. 

Step 10

Figure 3

I realized that that the structure template I'm using contains six natural turning point beats starting with (1) Act 1's Climax and the Threshold crossing into Act 2, and then (2) Pinch Point B, (3) the Moment of Grace, (4) Pinch Point C, (5) Act 2 Climax, and (6) Pinch Point D. [Pinch Point A is the same as the Inciting Incident in the middle of Act 1.]

Those critical turning points, or possible reversals, would be excellent places to tigger the flashbacks that reveal Sabriya's present day motivation due to her backstory. So, in Figure 3, I slid the six Prologue Clumps over those turning point columns. I am not sure what the present day action will be in Sabriya's experience to trigger her memory of her past, but figuring that out seems like a minor concern at this point.

I now have a structure that will create a great rollercoaster ride of action and emotion for the reader, and reveal the back story as motivations for the present day story.

NEXT I need to analyze the above beat structure to ensure the protagonist and antagonist actions are consistently and evenly applied along the through-line of the story—the rescuing of Sabriya's secret son from the boy's father, a leader in the S.E. Asia human trafficking trade.

AFTERTHOUGHT: By moving the prologue into six flashbacks, I need to redistribute the word counts, taking the 4-5 words reserved for the Prologue and assigning them to the turning point columns where the flashbacks will occur. 

Monday, June 23, 2025

SABRIYA Writing Journal 1: Can I Keep This Up?

Not sure if I'll be able to keep up this journal, but I'll try.  Writing a novel is a long affair and there are many interruptions, blogging being one of them and staring at a blank page another. There's a solution to both. Starting today I try to share how you can eliminate the latter, and strengthen your linear storytelling mind. The foundation of this is my book The Moral Premise and the extensive resources of this blog, my on-line Storycraft Training series, and years of  experience working as a story and screenplay consultant.

The novel I've started and which this journal will follow is Sabriya. It's the story of an elegant Chinese woman, a skilled practitioner of the hidden martial art Wing Chun, who marries a young British diplomat to Shanghai, then risks her marriage and scandalizing Her Majesty's Diplomatic Service when she creates not a little mayhem around Shanghai trying to rescue her secret son from his ruthless father who has become the chief of a human trafficking syndicate dealing in youth for labor, sex, and  harvested organs.

Step 1 - Pick a Successful Antecedent

Sabriya of Shanghai (SOS) was originally a treatment for a martial arts thriller movie set in S.E. Asia. I wrote it on spec for a potential client, but when he went in another direction I retained ownership. The antecedent for the treatment is Taken, the 2008 thriller written by Luc Besson and Robert Mark Kamen, directed by Pierre Morel, and starring Liam Neeson. Taken was so successful there were two equally successful sequels. So, I designed the beats of the new story on Taken but I made it different—I changed the location from France to China; I changed the male lead to female; I changed the kidnapped victim from a daughter to a son, and I changed the lead's expertise from a being secret spy to a secret form of martial arts.  

Step 2 - Select a Practical Medium

Having no money to make a film, and having written several novels, and non-fiction projects, it was time to transform SOS from a film treatment into a motion picture thriller.  The first question was, how long of a novel?   My three previous fictional efforts were 30,000, 57,000, and 372,00 words. I could not get traditional agents or publishers to consider the 372.000 project, and no one was interested in a novella. Agents told me 70K–90K was an ideal length. So, I settled (arbitrarily) on 72,000 words, knowing I'd go long. 

Step 3 - Structure - Use a Successful Structure

I will use a high-level, generic structure used successfully in long-form stories of all genres, and which has proved accurate in hundreds of box office hits and best selling novels. The structural sequence uses 21 beats for the through-line. I describe these beats in various places and detail elsewhere on this blog and fundamentally in The Moral Premise. The percentages and word lengths (based on 72,000) were calculated with the Excel spread imaged below. Thus, this level of detail decision making was not made arbitrarily. I will write the first draft in Scrivener who allows me to set word limits for each document—in this case each of the 21 major beats that vary in length from 1,00 to 5,000 words. 

Step 4 - Create Template for Carding (or Breaking) the Story Beats

Over the  years, I have set up structural templates on door walls with 3"x5" cards and masking tape, on large wooden folding closet doors,  painted walls with the pictures removed, on black landscaped 4 'x 8' Gatorfoam Board with Post-It Notes, on portrait 4' x 8' Masonite on wheels with Post-It Notes, and in Apple's Keynote,  which I am using on SOS. (image below)

I have come to prefer Apple's Keynote (Appel's answer to PowerPoint for Mac users like me), with a single slide dimensions set to 6000 x 2500 pixels.  I can type, transform, and copy Keynote cards faster than writing with a marker on physical Post-Its. When other people are in the room for a story meeting, however, one of the 4' x 8' boards works best with physical Post-Its—we can all see the beats at once, and anyone can jump up and make a change on the large board (or wall).

Below is the beginning of the story breakdown. Each "card" represents a scene, each column is one of the 21 macro story beats. 

For SOS I've chosen to break the story into columns from left (beginning of story) to right (end of story). The column widths (defined by white lines) are the relative duration of the beat. The image above shows the first 10 beats, with "cards" filled in for the first 4 beats (Prologue through Reject the Journey).  The numbers 4.5, 9, 15, etc are the running total of words (in 000s) to the end of the beat where they're placed. These numbers will differ from the Excel chart as I've changed my mind about some lengths.

Step 5 - Card the Story

The first (or left) column is the Prologue. I have created cards for each micro beat (or scene) of the treatment, and placed them in chronological order from top to bottom, whereupon the story continues in the next column (Life Before).  The row of short color cards at the top is my color key for different characters. If I want to place a card for a character that is not already on the board, I can option-drag one of the color key cards to copy the card, stretch it as wide as the column and start typing. You'll notice most of the cards have gradated colors—the first time I've used them. The top and bottom colors indicate the two principle characters that appear in that beat. I will continue to fill in this story board based on each beat present in the treatment.  

Each card above begins with a number, which is the line number of the earlier written treatment. See image with "greek" words.

Step 6 - Analyze the Structure

Why do all this carding of each scene on a board with the macro beats? First, the board will act as a living outline that will be open while I write the manuscript. Second, it's important that I study the outline before I begin to write and look for plot holes that need to be filled. I might ask, "Does the antagonist appear ubiquitously and frightfully?  The display and spread of colors will indicate the presence or absence of a character in each beat. In the illustration above Sabriya is light yellow and the the antagonist is red. If there is part of the story where no red grading appears nor light-yellow appears, I know immediately where and what I need to fix. For example, Sabriya should be present in 75% of the cards. Does she? If not, I need to broaden her appearance before I start to write. 

Step 7 - Fix the Structure Before Writing

Based on the previous step, I will make changes to the story board before writing. Knowing what's going to happen and when, allows me to expertly place foreshadowing and resolution information and scenes that deepens the intrigue and reader's enjoyment. 

That's where I am. Please post your questions and follow my journey. 







Wednesday, March 5, 2025

Color-Keyed Outlines & Structures are Essential

Outlines and Structure are Helpful

Color-Keyed Outlines & Structures are Essential

I'm in the process of adapting my 373K word historical novel to a 24K word Young Readers edition. I always outline. It can make writing the manuscript boring because I know what's going to happen. Although I think it's better than writing by the seat of my pants and 4 days before the manuscript is due to the publisher, I discover that my hero is killed in a gun battle and I have no ending.


The above graphic on my display is the outline for a 24,000 word Young Readers edition. Each colorful vertical rectangle (which contains six blocks) is a chapter of 800 words. I'll use Scrivener to target the word count. There are 30 chapters (x800 = 24,000)


In each chapter rectangle, the GREEN block at the top articulates the POV character's physical goal for that chapter. The ORANGE block is the conflict encountered when attempting to achieve that goal. The RED block is the disaster that happens when the conflict is not resolved (it is never resolved until the last chapter...and I see I need to change the color of those blocks in last two chapters, they're still red in this picture and the one below.) The PINK blocks are the POV character's emotional reaction and internal debate, and the BLUE box is the tragic consequence and cliff hanger that drives the reader into the next chapter.


Each column of one or two chapters is a classical dramatic beat in the story, and there are three major disasters in addition to the smaller ones in each chapter. This format ensures an engaging, emotional roller coaster for the reader. There are 19 chapter beats (plus 3 major turning points), 30 chapters, 800 words each, and 24,000 words total.

Left to Right apps I use: Powerpoint for Pitch deck, Scrivener and Word for text, and at the far right, Keynote for graphic outlines and plotting story beats (Keynote is the Mac Power Point)

Above is my writing set up of two Power Mac displays. As I flesh out the detail of the outline blocks on the right I reference my pitch deck (of character profiles, chronology, and scene summaries, along with the long form manuscript) on the left display. From here I'll open up Scrivener and start writing, one Scrivener document per chapter. After the novel is written and the chapters (Scrivener documents) are in order, I'll export to M.S. Word and finish up there before submission to a publisher. Or, if I self publish the M.S. Word document will be imported into Adobe's InDesign for finishing.

Yes, I'll make changes to the outline as I progress. But there's no frustration, writer's block, or second guessing, and I'll not revise the story 6-8 times to get it right.

New Editions for pre-readers, Young Readers, and a new Trilogy will be forthcoming later this year. A few original editions are still available at Amazon, and e-books available just about everywhere else.

Thursday, July 12, 2018

How to Emotionally Connect a Protagonist to Your Audience.

 This is an updated post from 2010.


Our full house at EXTRAORDINARY's premiere
A  recent workshop attendee who works with teen filmmakers asked this question:
What are the major events in a story that a protagonist must face and overcome to make sure the audience emotionally connects with the character?
That question tells me the filmmakers believe it's the external (or visible) story EVENTS or ACTIONS that connect the audience to the character. But that's only half the truth.

The action a character takes is valued by the audience only because of said character's motivation to take said action. If the protagonist kills another character, the event will be judged differently by the audience depending on whether the killing is pre-meditated murder or self-defense. That is, what's important to the audience is WHY the character took said action. And that is all about who the character is internally. It's the character's internal values that mostly dictate the emotional connection of the audience.

The way the audience discovers those values is the work of the plot and how the character responds to the beats of the plot. More about the plot beats below, but first let's look at how the audience will come to recognize the character's internal values. This is how it works in real life, too.

This diagram from a workshop I give will help. On the left side of the circle, items 2, 3 and 4 happen internally to a character. In a motion picture the audience does not see these unless the character shares his thinking with another character. In a novel, internal monologue often supplies these points.  But everything on the right side of the circle, items 1, 5, and 6 are in the visible, physical realm which the audience sees.



So, let's begin with No. 1. Here our character observes a situation in the external world.

2. Almost immediately the character compares what he observes to his own value system.

3. Let's assume that there is an internal value conflict between what he observes and his own value system. That leads to:

4. The character deciding upon a course of action to remediate the situation, and try to change the external situation to be more in line with his own internal values.

5. The character's thoughts morph into the physical realm and he takes some action.

6. As a direct consequence of the action some natural consequence occurs that is totally outside the character's control. Nature has the upper hand now, and some physical conflict may occur.  This physical conflict is a metaphor of the internal conflict from step 3.

And the cycle repeats itself, as the character...

1. Observes the new situation created by his intervening action, and

2. Evaluates....

If the Natural Consequence is evaluated as good in the character's mind, then his original internal value is reinforced. If the Natural Consequence is evaluated as bad, then the character may revisit and revise their original internal value....and transform.

TURNING  POINTS AND BEATS

Now this sort of logic appears most dramatically at a story's TURNING POINT or at Major Beats of a story. I discuss these beats in various places in this blog. But here's a starting point: 13 Major Beats.

So, this goes back to the original question.
What are the major events in a story that a protagonist must face and overcome to make sure the audience emotionally connects with the character?
The answer in an external sense are the dramatic story beats reflected in the 13 Major Beats link above. But the key to those beats emotionally connecting with audiences all depends on whether or not the internal value arc of the character's transformation coincides with or diverges from the audience's values.

And that is where the Moral Premise comes in. The decisions and actions that the character makes, if you're going to have a successful story, must all coincide with the moral and physical arc described by the moral premise statement, which we are assuming is true and in compliance with Natural Law.

    Monday, March 13, 2017

    The Sequence Approach (Paul Gulino)

    [UPDATE: Please see Christopher Pratt's (the Other Chris Pratt, not the actor) comment at the bottom of this post. It's instructive.]

    I recently reviewed Paul Gulino's book "Screenwriting: The Sequence Approach." I found the book a bit obtuse and not clearly written, but Chris Soth (of ScreenwritingU) makes it easier to understand. Soth calls this structure the Mini-Movie Method (MMM).

    This method of structuring a movie divides the story into 8 segments where Act 1, 2A, 2B, and 3 are all divided in half by events like the  Inciting Incident, Pinch Points and the Final Incident, giving you, theoretically 8 equal parts.

    Now, think of those eight segments of a movie, each 12.5% of the whole, as INDIVIDUAL movies or long sequences, each with a beginning, middle and end. Or 8 short movies strung together, each with a climax (the moment or turning point).

    The 2016 Best Picture, MOONLIGHT, is constructed with three long sequences. The three parts tell the the coming of age story of a gay-black man raised in a poor, drug invested part of Miami. First, as a boy (called Little); second, as a teenager (called Chiron, his give name); and third, as an adult (called Black). The three sections are each preceded by a title card, simply:


    i
    Little

    ii
    Chiron

    iii
    Black

    This simple and direct structure, made explicit to the audience, was one (of many) reasons the screenplay won an Screenwriting Oscar for BEST ADAPTATION.

    So, what Gulino (and Soth) propose is that you divide your feature into 8 parts, two for each of the major 4 segments: Act 1, Act 2A, Act 2B, and Act 3. These 8 parts are the same segments (less the Prologue and Denouement) you'll see on my StoryDiamond or on the linear representation of a Story's 13-20 Beats --- both represented below in miniature. (Click on the links above for posts that explain. And, click on any diagram for a larger version, that you can actually read.)

      
    [BTW: I have updated the StoryDiamond again, and for the first time in six years edited and updated the Annotation or Notes Document that goes with it. If you use the Story Diamond I encourage you to download the latest at the links herein.]

    Now, here's the new thing I came away with. If we think of each of these 8 segments, or sequences, or mini-movies as each having a goal that the protagonist needs to achieve, then it's like you have 8 subplots, which run sequentially, as opposed to most subplots that run in parallel.  Here's a diagram I crafted. Below the diagram is a further explanation. (You can click on any image to make it bigger.)


    1. One good way to hook your audience is that each of the sequences has a goal. Let's call the first seven, "subgoals," as the end point of each of the subplots. (In the digram, the subgoals are symbolized by the red stars). The story must be constructed in such a way that each subgoal MUST be achieved before the next subplot can be engaged, and the next subgoal be achieved. That is, the first subgoal is logically nested (and its resolution more or less resolved) before the second subgoal can be pursued and achieved. This is very much like a video game (which I don't play) where to get to the end of the game you have to acquire all the earlier magic lanterns, or pots of gold along the way. If you miss one, you stop dead in your tracks. 

    The trick is to construct a story where the eight subplots and subgoals are logically dependent, nested and chronologically sequential. The later goals all have to be subservient to the earlier goals. (Soth used INDIANA JONES AND THE LOST ARK as an example.) And in movies like THE LOST ARK you can even think of each of the 8 subplots with their attending subgoals as "set pieces" or locations. So, you have a 11 minute adventure in one wilderness location, there's a 1.5 minute climax where the protagonist finds some level of defeat and that propels him or her to the next set piece and the next sequence. Come to think of it the James Bond movies are pretty well structured like that. 

    2. Of course, each of the subgoals MUST support the final main goal. This is what I teach about subplots (that run in parallel) and their subgoals—e.g. every subplot goal must be related to the single moral premise, and the virtues and vices associated with it. That is, every subplot has to struggle with the same conflict of values, but perhaps in a different way.  In Gulino's Sequences (and Soth's Mini-Movies) the subplots are sequential, and logically dependent. This is brilliant. 

    3. The process suggests that just after each goal is achieved, there is an increasingly terrible and epic failure on the part of the protagonist, which causes his hopes to descend into fear. According to the Moral Premise theology (yeah, I should start a religion), these immediate descends are the consequence of two related forces: (1) the action of the antagonist, and (2) the weakness of the protagonist, which is a milder form of the powerful vice exerted by the antagonist.

    Do I need to point out the emotional roller-coaster effect this creates? Alas, one of my bully pulpits. 

    This perfectly follows an age-old concept of novel writing—in every scene-sequel sequence there is a DISASTER that spurs the action forward (or in a new direction...a mini-turning point). Here's a diagram from my on-line workshop (Storycraft Training). An explanation follows.

    Novel Scene-Sequel Sequence (simplified)
    Running from left to right in the above diagram. (1) The protagonist has a physical GOAL to achieve. (2) The protagonist takes action to achieve that goal, and in so doing creates CONFLICT with the antagonist. (3) Because of the conflict, the goal is not fully achieved, resulting in a DISASTER. (4) The protagonist experiences an EMOTIONAL REACTION, which acts as a motivation to keep going. (5) The protagonist spends some time evaluating in his mind (THOUGHT) the DILEMMA faced, until... (6) The protagonist makes a decision about the next goal and takes the fist steps to achieve it. [And the process REPEATS starting with the new goal.]
    Now, I've added a couple of things from my other workshop sessions (c.f. Storycraft Training). Let me repeat the diagram for ease of reference.

    4. Each sub goal has to be harder to achieved, and the conflict and tension associated with its accession has to be higher than the last subplot and goal. I have gradated the vertical scale into +8 and -8 levels. 

    5. Likewise the disasters (represented by the black dos) are increasing terrible. Thus, the goals and the disasters, get farther and farther apart, creating an escalating emotional roller coaster. the dipole here is HOPE vs. FEAR—a good way to convey it on an emotional level, which for a story is critical. Of course there are other ways to define the roller coaster, e.g. rationally (Is the protagonist progress toward the goal progressing or retarding?), and/or morally (Is the essential truth of the moral being tested true or false?

    6. Lastly, going back to my earlier description of the 13-20 beats, the Turning Points and the Pinch Points have a characteristic difference in how each of those seven disasters occur. The odd number disasters (above, i.e. 1, 3, 5, 7) are initiated or caused by the antagonist's power, whereas the even number disaster (above, i.e. 2, 4, and 6) are caused by the protagonist's weakness, blindness, and poor judgement. 

    Comments?

    Friday, June 12, 2015

    Architectural Stories and Fonts

    Good architectural Story Structure adheres to several principles and techniques, not unlike the rules of architectural hand-lettering:

    1. Honor your audience's need to understand something about every scene. Keep your style consistent.

    2. Use a clear and unencumbered beat sheet where reversals and turns are obvious.

    3. Emphasize the beginning and end of scenes, sequences and acts. Avoid ambiguity.

    4. Give your scenes, sequences and acts a slight upward lift of hope and redemption.

    5. Give turning points a roundness of possibilities. Don't limit your character's options.

    6. Give careful attention to the rhythm, allowing an ebb and flow of quiet to noise, fast to slow, introspection to decision, action to consequence.

    (Inspired by Matthew Frederick's 101 Things I Learned in Architecture School)

    Monday, September 22, 2014

    The Scientific Method Story Structure


    Successful Story Structure has a few rules. One is that the major beats and turning points  align themselves with some Natural Law order of the human condition or experience.

    In other posts and in The Moral Premise book I discuss a number of these structures, including:

    • Traditional 3 Acts (Field)
    • Traditional 13-18 Beats (Hauge, Snyder, Williams)
    • 12 Steps of the Hero's Journey (Campbell, Vogler)
    • The 12 Steps of A.A.
    • The 5 or 7 Stages of Grief
    • Four Acts - Four Archetypes (Schechter)
    • Alison Fisher's 5-Act Purchase Funnel
    And there's another, which I've known about for years but only one time discussed in the footnote to a blog on Stories and Premises in Medieval Art. And, that is The Scientific Method. 

    Although you can find the Scientific Method explained in various number of steps (from 4 to 7, and I use 4 in the link above) I like the version illustrated on the right. 

    Think of the process steps as Six Acts and the "moments" or "beats" between the acts as turning points. The acts may be sequences of different lengths, and the beats between the acts (the white triangle arrows) are turing points. This would produce an 11 beat structure, here alongside the traditional 3/4 Act structure with the vertical spacing indicating duration. The Moment of Grace is the scene/beat/triangle connecting 2A and 2B (Sequences 3 and 4).

    Notice that this VERY similar to the Traditional 13 beats, where the only beats not represented are the Final Climax and the Denouement.

    I cannot provide an example of a film that reflects this structure, but since it reflects how humanity discovers and validates natural laws, I suspect it would work for a particular type of story and thus connect at a subliminal level. If any of you have examples you'd like to suggest, please use the com box.

    Thanks and good writing.






    Monday, June 9, 2014

    Can the "Moment of Grace" Be at the End

    Recently, I was asked this question: Can the Moment of Grace (MOG) for the Protagonist be at the end of the story?

    There are several ways to answer this.

    A. IF you’re writing a straight ahead redemptive film, the MOG for the MAIN PLOT (13-18 beats), for the PROTAGONIST must be in the MIDDLE. This is because you want to create a fairly even roller emotional coast ride for your audience both (1) morally and (2) physically. 

    1. The moral up and down is related to the psychologically of your protagonist’s and the audience’s understanding of the truth of the moral premise. This is a very subtle roller coaster ride because it is NOT explicit or obviously visible except in metaphors and non-verbal. Yes the MP is true, no it’s not, yes it is, no it’s not. But it is very critical because it is the foundational motivational factor in the protagonist’s actions and are seen on the screen. 

    2. The physical up and down is the explicit answer to the story questions: Will your protagonist’s reach his/her goal and will your audience reach it’s expected cathartic moment when the goal is reached? Yes the goal will be reached, not it won’t, etc. Those peaks and valleys of those two interrelated roller coast rides must be evenly spaced or the movie will flatten out and you’ll have too long of a dry or boring sequence.  

    Recall the macro effect of the turning points, how every other one is from the antagonistic force or the protagonist making a decision to pursue the goal in the face of that force.

    B. NOW, if the MOG for the Protagonist’s main plot is put off to the end and the film is still redemptive then you have a near tragedy where the audience is taken down, and down, and down a very dark roller coaster with tunnels ….and there’s no hope too close to the end. Aronofsky’s NOAH did this. As you may have read on my blog posts about that film, I liked it and found it Biblical etc. BUT, the MOG for the film's main plot is not until the very end of the film, and to the audience you have what looks like a tragedy with a madman at the center of the story. He’s mad to do what he thinks the Creator wants him to do, he doesn't see the clear ways in which God is communicating to him, and thus the MOG is not until the end... and many Christians could not understand that kind of a story character. In his defense I understand how Aronofsky could see the character that way because (a) so many of us humans can't "hear" God clearly, and (b) since Aronofsky was 10-years told he always saw the Noah story as very dark because of all the people and innocent babies that died in the flood. All his life he wondered if he was in that situation, would he be good enough to get on the ark?  But the structure of such a film requires that the protagonist NOT understand (even a little) the truth of the moral premise until it’s almost too late. (In Noah's case it's almost axiomatically, Too Little, Too Late.) … and it’s a hard, dark ride for the audience, even if it is true. I’ll point out that the NOAH movie did not do that well at the box office, and I think what I just pointed out is there reason.   

    C. THERE is a horror film titled CLOVERFIELD where the MOG is at the Act 1 to Act 2 crossover. The act breaks is late (44% instead of 25%) and the MOG is early (44% instead of 50%) and because there is no emotional bump in the middle where the MOG should be, and because the crossover is late, I think the movie suffers from being  to slow in a couple of places like in the middle. The coaster track levels out, so to speak. I blog about here: CLOVERFIELD: Is There Danger...

    D. YOU may think you have a MOG at the end of your story, but it may be that you’re confused by the placement of the MOG and the final realization by the protagonist.  You may be working on a story where the final TURTH is CONFIRMED at the end, but you can still have a MOG in the middle. Usually the MOG is not a “come to Jesus” moment where everything changes. But rather a moment where the truth is realized and now must be tested. Thus, the truth of the MOG is not confirmed until the battle is finally won. But from the mid-point's MOG to the Act 3 Climax (the last 50% of the story) the truths of the MP are being applied with increasing effectiveness. Remember the roller coast hills get steeper in the end of a movie, which is the opposite of a real roller coaster. 
    In such movies the audience experiences a great cathartic moment at the very end. That is not the MOG, but the final confirmation of the truth of the Moral Premise's truth. 

    FINALLY, just to tie up the obvious loose end of this question: The minor characters can have their MOG at the end, as Collette in Ratatouille does when she's running away from the kitchen on her motorbike.  She stops at a red traffic signal, sees her former boss's book in the bookstore window (Any One Can Cook), has a realization of the truth (the red light turns green), and in the next scene we see that she's returned to the kitchen. In fact, such minor characters can have a MOG just about anywhere in the story, but they work best when their MOG is after the main MOG of the protagonist, and before the main plot's final climax, say from 55% to 95%.