Category Archives: screenwriting

What I Learned at Producer and Screenwriting School

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by Debbie Burke

Holly Soriano is an independent film producer in Billings, Montana who’s creating a course about what they don’t teach you at film school but should.

For several weeks, I’ve been a beta tester for her zoom classes in screenwriting and film production.

Holly Soriano

Holly is zany, fanciful, and funny (she does standup as a side gig) with a passionate interest in mental health issues. Her full-length feature comedy My Apocalyptic Thanksgiving stars a hero with special needs. Her upcoming production is about a woman sent to an eastern Montana psych ward where she finds a fairy godmother who will grant her Three Wishes.

Holly has an MFA in screenwriting, studied with screenwriter Corey Mandell, and worked in the film industry in Los Angeles before coming home to Montana.

 

Her teaching style is whimsical. For example, her Power Point slides feature colorful aliens playing the roles of hopeful writers, melodramatic directors, and dream-crushing marketing executives.

Holly is quick to point out that Hollywood is not the center of the universe. The growing indie film industry demonstrates that good movies can be made anywhere and don’t necessarily require monster budgets.

Just as indie publishing democratized books, indie films leveled the playing field for movies. Before then, Holly says there was a class structure where actors and directors were at the top and those behind the scenes doing the actual work were looked down on.

She pokes fun at divas, striking a nose-in-the-air pose, flipping her hair, and proclaiming, “I’m an ar-teest!” 

While writing a book is largely a solo effort, movie making is a collaboration among multiple contributors with different skill sets.

In the 16 shorts Holly has made, she learned how to do every job on the set. She understands where each piece fits into the puzzle and how they all work (or don’t work) together. Her mistakes teach lessons to make the next film better.

Short films (40 minutes or less) are an excellent training ground for filmmakers.  

Thinking like a producer, Holly says, makes a writer realize, “Every line in a screenplay costs money.”

She says, “Films can be made cheap, or fast, or good, but not all three.”

In another example of threes, she explains: “Films are made three times. The writer writes one movie. The director writes another movie. The post-production editor looks at thousands of hours of uncut footage and asks, ‘how can I make this mess into a movie?'”

Raising money is always the big question.

Holly suggests first to put together free resources, like your own working knowledge, no-cost locations, and friends and family willing to help.

You can apply for grants available through state film commissions, charitable foundations, or educational institutions. State film commission offices may support a short that promotes recreational or cultural activities in your area.

Partnering with a nonprofit aligned with the film’s subject is another option. For example, Easterseals runs a Disability Film Festival where four of Holly’s shorts were shown.

An “angel” might be an A-list actor who sponsors the film. That is usually an actor seeking interesting, unique parts to stretch their talents beyond typical roles.

Once you make a movie, what do you do with it?

Theatrical release used to be the main option but no longer. Today films can be distributed through TV streaming services, Spotify, YouTube, libraries, on planes and cruises, etc.

During screenwriting class sessions, Holly emphasized the importance of stakes. Put the hero in a moral dilemma to reveal their character. Force them to make difficult choices. What are the consequences of their actions?

The screenplay for a feature film used to be 120 pages. Now it’s 105 pages or fewer, a reflection of rising costs and shorter attention spans of the audience.

While conflict is important, Holly advises not to have conflict for the sake of conflict. Don’t throw in a random fistfight just because you think it’s time for an action scene. Be sure conflict serves the story.

Interiority is different in films than in books. In books, the author goes inside the character’s head to express their thoughts, feelings, doubts, and fears. Movies are visual. Emotions need to be shown by actions that represent the feelings.

In addition to regular class sessions, Holly also met with each of us individually to discuss our projects. For the others, she reviewed their story outlines or scripts. In my case, she graciously took extra time to read the first book in my thriller series, Instrument of the Devil. She encouraged me to complete Blake Snyder’s Save the Cat beat sheet to help me translate literary to visual.

In the book Instrument of the Devil, the hero Tawny is introduced at home. Holly suggested a film version could instead open with a shot of the massive, imposing Hungry Horse Dam. Tawny’s broke and visits the dam hoping to get her former summer job back. Soon after, she becomes ensnared in a terrorist cyberattack on the electric grid.

Brilliant idea, Holly! That makes a much more visually dramatic first scene and ties in perfectly to the story.

Holly also thinks Nicole Kidman may want to play Tawny, the 50-ish widow, because Nicole believes there should be more stories featuring mature female leads.

Holly, from your lips to Nicole’s ears!

We met one-on-one several more times and Holly converted me from I’m really not interested in making movies to Wow, this is challenging and fun!

She offered various times for each class to accommodate people’s schedules. That added up to a total of 37 sessions that she taught. Thirteen of the 15 beta testers attended multiple sessions in both screenwriting and producer school. 
Being a beta tester for Holly’s upcoming courses opened a window on a creative world I hadn’t experienced before.

Thank you, Holly!

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Learn more about Holly, her projects, and upcoming classes at her website and her production company Darkness and Joy.

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TKZers: Have you written screenplays? Have you considered adapting your story for the movies?

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Please check out Instrument of the Devil and let me know if you think it has movie potential.

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How Memorable Are You?

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By Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

 

Everyone in the writing community is part of a long continuum climbing a steep hill. Those who are ahead often reach down their hands to help those who are less experienced.

For three decades, my local writing group, the Authors of the Flathead (AOF), has thrived because of mentors who extended their hands to the rest of us, freely and generously sharing knowledge.

Barbara Schiffman, script consultant and creative producer

One of those mentors is Barbara Schiffman, who worked in Hollywood for 35+ years as a script consultant and creative producer. She reviewed potential projects for literary agencies and production companies like DreamWorks, HBO, Showtime, and more. After retirement, she and her author-husband Glenn moved to Montana in 2019 to live near their grandchildren and settled into a new home.

Before their boxes were unpacked, Barbara jumped in to help local writers. At the community college in Kalispell, she now facilitates monthly seminars about screenwriting sponsored by AOF and her MT Screenwriting Meetup (https://meetup.com/MTScreenwriting/  – not limited to Montana writers).

At a recent meeting I attended, screenwriters had driven long distances from Polson (50 miles), Ovando (120 miles), Helena (220 miles), and Spokane, Washington (240 miles) to hear Barbara. With gas at more than $5/gallon, these are serious writers hungry to learn. The trip is worth it.

That evening, Barbara spoke about how to make a good first impression on people who might buy your stories. She stresses you never have a second chance to make a good first impression: “Get ’em in the beginning or you don’t get ’em.”

Her approach is two-pronged and applies to both to you as the author and to the main characters of your stories.

You, the writer, could be pitching to agents, editors, producers, etc., hoping to stand out among thousands of writers they meet.

Or…

Your book’s main character could be pitching to readers browsing thousands of books on virtual and physical shelves.

Both you as the author and your main character have the same goal: seduce the reader into saying, “I’ve got to hear/read more about this person!”

Barbara analyzed countless scripts and learned to read quickly, sometimes simultaneously writing a logline, one or two page synopsis, and comments for her clients.

The first 10 pages make or break a screenplay. Even when they didn’t grab her, she still needed to skim the rest, write a full summary, and make recommendations. The options were pass or consider, strong consider, or consider with recommendations.

An unqualified Recommend was rare. While many scripts were good, they needed to be great to earn a Recommend.

Insider tip: a reader’s analysis of each script or book must be thoroughly documented, including the date received and who submitted it, to protect the producer, director, and others from plagiarism claims.

Next, Barbara put us through an exercise to demonstrate everyone has a unique quality or experience that makes them memorable. She asked each person to give their name, where they’re from, and relate one unusual thing about themselves that isn’t generally known.

She offered her own example of a memorable event that led to a realization: a fire walk with motivational guru Tony Robbins. As she walked across the coals, she thought, This isn’t so hot. Yet afterward, she had a blister on her little toe. Even though her perception had been the walk was no big deal, the physical blister proved to her that, yes, the fire was indeed scorching.

Then she went around the room full of writers, ranging in age from early 20s to 70+, asking for their memorable events. Since I don’t have their permission, I can’t share what they said. But every single person, no matter how ordinary they appeared, had a unique, surprising story that caused the rest of us to say Wow!

Prior to that evening, I hadn’t met several newcomers. Next time I see them, I likely won’t remember their names or where they’re from but I will definitely remember the unique story they told.

That is exactly the effect a writer wants to achieve when meeting with a producer, actor, agent, or editor. According to Barbara, even if they don’t accept your current pitch, if you make a good impression, they will remember you and perhaps offer a different opportunity later.

Your main character must make a similar impact when s/he first walks onstage in the story.

If it’s a script, you want the actor reading it to say, “I have to play that character onscreen.”

If it’s a novel, you want the reader to say, “I have to learn more about this character. I need to buy this book.”

A current character description trend in screenwriting is to be minimalist—hair color, height, age. Barbara considers that “lazy writing.” When she reads scripts, she wants to know more than surface impressions. She says physical traits are important ONLY if they are integral to the plot.

“Less can be more but make it the right less,” she says.

Barbara recommends developing a skill she calls “screenplay haiku”—memorable phrases, especially in dialogue, that she says may wind up in a movie trailer and frequently in common lexicon.

Think: Make my day. (Clint Eastwood, Dirty Harry).

Houston, we’ve had a problem. (Jim Lovell, Apollo 13)

I’ll be back. (Arnold Schwarzenegger, Terminator)

Barbara admires Taylor Sheridan, the creator-producer of Yellowstone and considers him “Shakespeare in the Wild West.”

She also mentioned Sheridan’s screenplay of Hell or High Water as a prime example of memorable screenwriting. A number of TKZers have recommended the film. Here’s a scene-by-scene dissection by director David Mackenzie.

 

Timothy Hallinan’s Junior Bender book series has also earned Barbara’s admiration. She says he’s a cross between Carl Hiaasen and Donald Westlake.

From Crashed: A Junior Bender Mystery, here’s Hallinan’s first description of a dirty cop named Hacker:

The face in the rear-view mirror possessed more distinctive characteristics than you’d normally find in a whole room full of faces. The eyes, black as a curse, were so close to each other they nearly touched, barely bisected by the tiniest nose ever to adorn an adult male face. I’d seen bigger noses on a pizza. The guy had no eyebrows and a mouth that looked like it was assembled in the dark: no upper lip to speak of, and a lower that plumped out like a throw pillow, above a chin as sharp as an elbow.

It wasn’t a nice face, but that was misleading. The man who owned it wasn’t just not nice: he was a venal, calculating, corrupt son of a bitch.

 

That’s a character most readers will remember!

~~~

Thanks, Barbara, for sharing tips on how to make a memorable first impression.

For more info about her, visit: https://literasee.com/

Check out: https://www.meetup.com/mtscreenwriting/

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My memorable detail for today is I’m having cataract surgery. Barbara kindly offered to pinch-hit and respond to comments, as well as answer questions.

~~~

TKZers: What makes your main character memorable?

If you dare, share a memorable detail about yourself.

 

Writing Wisdom From An Old Pro

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@jamesscottbell

When I began studying writing in earnest it was with an eye to becoming a screenwriter. This was back in the day of the “screenwriting guru” explosion. Syd Field was the granddaddy. His Screenplay was my foundational book and led to my eventual breakthrough on structure. Soon, Robert McKee came on the scene, then John Truby and a few others. Acolytes of each would claim that their guy was the true originator of screenwriting knowledge for the unwashed mass of wannabes.

Only none of them were. The original guru was a veteran Hollywood screen and TV writer who started teaching for UCLA Extension in the 1950s. His book, Writing the Script, came out in 1980. Wells Root was his name and you can look up his credits on IMDB.
Wells Root directing Donna Reed in Mokey (1942)
The other day I turned on TCM and decided to watch a little of the upcoming flick, a B gangster picture from the 30s called Public Hero #1. I saw that it had Chester Morris in it, and I like his work. The credits rolled and lo and behold Wells Root was the screenwriter. Now I watched with added interest, and ended up taking in the whole thing. The plot moved, had twists and turns and original characters. A crisp 89 minutes. Nicely done, Wells!
So I went to my bookshelf and pulled down Writing the Script for a re-read.  
It’s nice to make its acquaintance again. Writing the Script is filled with gems of wisdom for both fiction and screen writers. And Root’s illustration of the three-act structure (as a raging river) is brilliant. He came up with this metaphor years before Syd Field’s famous three-act “paradigm.”
You see how the hero is in the river of story, being pulled by the current despite his best efforts with the oars. He gets thrust into the hazardous, rock-infested white water of Act 2. He fights all that only to hit a waterfall in Act 3. As he goes over the audience is asking, Will he drown or somehow make it to safe water?
I’ve always thought the best writing education would have been to be a young writer in Hollywood in the 30s. Then you could have hung out at Musso & Frank, listening to old scribes like Ben Hecht and Wells Root and John Howard Lawson. Over Martinis they would have provided a graduate course in the finer points of dramatic writing.
Since that era is long gone, Root’s book will have to do. So pull up a chair and listen to some of his advice:
Ultramodern, unstructured story design has an erratic record bringing bodies to the barn.
Drama favors the great saint or the great sinner—heroes and rascals who are above the common run. But they must still be as welcome in the village pub as in the manor house.
If you have the guts to be totally honest, nobody can write a character exactly as you can.
An unmistakable mark of a master craftsman is that he individualizes all his characters. (In the margin of the book I had scribbled “Moonstruck.”)
Although your heavy is a horror, make him or her also a vulnerable human being.
Write a man or woman or child who is everybody, but who becomes in your dramatic story an absorbing variation, a striking original.
The heights of emotional drama dwell in these scenes that plead truth from opposed points of view. Such conflicts, you will find, play with a special luminous power.
A story maker’s urgent priority should be awareness. A writer is always in his working clothes.
Agents and producers are flooded with the commonplace. Routine work will get you nothing but routine indifference.
So there it is, an afternoon hanging out with Wells Root, the first of the great screenwriting gurus.
Is there a “wise old scribe” in your background? Somebody from whom you got much needed advice? Tell us about it. [NOTE: I’ll be in travel mode today, so talk amongst yourselves and I’ll try to catch up later]