Three Things I Learned from Movie Adaptations

Please help me welcome back a dear friend and talented storyteller, Steven Ramirez. The last time he guest posted on TKZ he discussed Pantsing Through the Pandemic. Today, he’s sharing his experience with— Well, I’ll let him tell you…

Recently, I took a break from writing fiction to focus on screenwriting. Currently, I’m adapting my latest novella, Brandon’s Last Words, as a feature screenplay.

If you’re wondering why anyone in their right mind would take on something like this, it’s simple—I live in LA. Trust me, you can’t swing a dead cat at Starbucks without hitting a screenwriter huddled at a corner table, determined to crank out the next Black Widow.

Okay, that’s partly it. The other reason is, I wanted to see if I could do it.

The novella is a prequel to a new thriller series. It takes place in the same universe as another of my series—only this time, with new characters. For those who have written a screenplay, you already know you need a log line. Here’s what I originally wrote for the novella:

Brandon Wheegar has just joined a secretive government-funded lab as a security guard. Why did no one warn him about the murderous test subjects?

That’s not bad. The question is, does it work for a movie? We’ll see. Of course, there’s plenty of other stuff to worry about. For this post, I’ll focus on three lessons learned.

The Beats, They Are Different

As fiction writers, we are keenly aware of story beats. They’re hammered into us starting in the womb. I’m tempted to joke that our friend James Scott Bell has beat that concept to death, but it would be low-hanging fruit, so.

The point is, screenplays need beats, too. But these are different and immutable. And without them, you effectively have something that is not a screenplay.

There are lots of resources out there that can teach you about screenplay structure. For simplicity’s sake, here are the high-level story beats, courtesy of Syd Field:


This scene brings the main character into focus. Without this beat, there’s no story.


What happens here sends the MC off on a new path, similar to the Hero’s Journey.


This is where things get interesting. Maybe the MC makes an important decision that changes the course of the story. Or they realize that what they thought was the truth isn’t.


This scene moves the character from conflict to resolution. The MC has a plan and intends to execute on it.


Often, these events bring physical and emotional closure. In Hero’s Journey terms, the MC returns home and shares what they’ve learned.

Now, there are many other elements you should layer in to make a killer screenplay. If you want to see a more fully realized story beat list for some well-known movies, check out Save The Cat.

Limiting the Character Count

When writing a novel, I include lots of characters. I don’t know. Maybe I’ve got a little Russian blood in me. In my case, the names don’t all sound the same, though. Anyway, I take this approach because my main characters tend to travel far and wide.

Unfortunately, you don’t have that luxury when it comes to screenplays—unless you’re Quentin Tarantino.


Because a script is a blueprint that tells the producer how much money they must spend. And the more characters, the more the above-the-line costs skyrocket—things like actors’ salaries, hair, makeup, and snacks.

My novella has a fair number of supporting characters. And they serve the story well. But for the screenplay, I had to find a way to either cut or combine characters. Which brings to mind that most famous of advice, which admonishes the writer to kill your darlings. Most people attribute the quote to Faulkner. But, in fact, it was Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, who wrote, “Murder your darlings.”

Now, he was talking about prose. In screenwriting, you pretty much have to take out the entire family. Here’s an example. In the novella, I have a chief security officer, a head of security, and two ruthless security specialists. Each has a part to play, and in Brandon’s Last Words, it’s all good. But for the script, I realized I had to combine the two security chiefs into one character and do the same with the two specialists. And it really doesn’t matter what kind of fiction you adapt. Chances are, you’ll slice and dice like a boss.

Getting the Genre Right

My novella can best be described as a horror/sci-fi thriller, with some comedy thrown in. I know, I know—welcome to my world. But, like any successful novel, you should tailor your screenplay to a target market.

When I sent off my first draft to a professional reader, I got back lots of notes. Some centered on the fact that my script didn’t read like horror. I had missed essential tropes, and many of the beats weren’t right.

Rereading the work, I realized I was clinging to my original mashup. Fine for novellas, not so much for screenplays that sell. I’m rewriting now, and let me tell you something. Scripts aren’t written—they’re rewritten. You thought it was a big deal writing three drafts of your novel? Try ten—or fifteen. Yeah. Also, in the real world, once the project is greenlit, they bring in other writers to “punch up the script.” Call it insurance.

Using the reader’s notes, I took a crack at turning my story into classic horror. But I ended up losing much of the humor. Now, if I were as cold-blooded as the chemically modified test subjects who terrorize my main character, I’d continue down this path. Most of you would because it’s the smart thing to do. And after all, you’d like to make some money, right? Me, I’m a rebel. I decided I prefer the story as a comedy thriller. Who knows, I might still have a shot (he said, nursing his tepid tea at Denny’s).

Look, there are quirky films out there that defy genre. I mean, did you ever see a little movie called Naked Lunch? It was directed by David Cronenberg and based on the William S. Burroughs novel. Yeah, so you know what I’m saying. Anyway, my advice is this: If you’re serious about selling your screenplay, then, by all means, write to market. Who knows? You might end up as a big-time Hollywood screenwriter. Me, I just want to create something surprising.

Final Thoughts

We writers are well acquainted with copyrighting our work. Technically, your novel is protected the moment you put pen to paper. Unfortunately, when it comes to screenplays, there’s more to it than that. In this town, a good movie idea gets stolen faster than you can say Coming to America. The point is, register your script with the Writers Guild of America. It’s no guarantee some no-account won’t try to take your precious, but at least you have legal recourse. For more information, visit the WGA West website.

The other thing to consider is screenwriting software. There’s plenty out there, including traditional writing apps like Scrivener, which support the screenplay format. If you’re planning to make this a career, though, I suggest you purchase Final Draft. It’s arguably the industry standard. Also, when collaborating with other screenwriters, there’s an excellent chance that’s the software they use. For more information, visit the Final Draft website.

Well, that’s me done. Happy screenwriting. Oh, and wish me luck with the next Naked Lunch.

Steven Ramirez is the award-winning author of thriller, supernatural, and horror fiction. A former screenwriter, he’s written about zombie plagues and places infested with ghosts and demons. His latest novel is Faithless, a thriller. Steven lives in Los Angeles.

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For discussion: Have you ever considered turning your novel/novella into a screenplay? What actor would you want to play your hero or antagonist?

Movie Deals

By John Gilstrap

Over the past 25 years, I have been involved in seven movie projects.  Producers have either purchased or optioned the film rights for four my books, and I have been signed five times to write screenplays.  (The math doesn’t work because I was attached to write the screenplays for two of the adaptations of my books.)  Notably, none of those films have yet to make it to the screen–except for Red Dragon, for which I was screwed out of a writer’s credit.   No, not bitter at all.  Grrr.

The movie business is sexy, it pays well, and is the most dysfunctional business model I’ve ever encountered.  It’s a miracle that any film ever gets made.  But clearly they do, so I thought I’d describe the process.

The Producer.

In the movie business, the title of producer gets thrown around a lot, and frankly, the term has a lot of different meanings.  For my purposes here, I’m not talking about any of the vanity titles.  I’m talking about the person who actually cares about the project and breaks his backside to bring it to life.

There’s an analogy between being a producer and being an author, but it’s a weak one.  I’ll give it a shot, though.

As an author, you get an idea, you develop it, write it and polish it.  When it’s done, every image is traceable to your imagination.  You are the producer, director, cinematographer, stunt coordinator, costume designer and set dresser, all rolled into one.

In a film, the producer recognizes a “literary property” that he thinks would make a good film.  So, he starts writing checks.  All those union jobs that resided in your head are positions that need to be hired to make the film.  A smart producer will write those checks with other people’s money–investors who trade their cash for a “producer” credit on the film.  If it makes money at the box office, the investors do well.  If it tanks, the real producer still gets to keep his producer’s fee.

Film Rights.

If you’re in the writing business long enough, you’re going to be approached by someone who calls herself a producer.  Nine times out of ten, the pitch will go something like, “I’ll pay you a hundred dollars for the film rights to your book.  I’ll shop it around Hollywood and if we get a deal, I’ll pay you a lot of money.”

That is your cue to hang up and run like a bunny rabbit.  There is exactly ZERO upside for you in that deal.  It’s an indicator that the producer is inexperienced, has no real contacts, and is trying to make a killing for herself off of your intellectual property.  Your response to that proposal should be, “Pay me a good sum up front for the rights to shop the book around.  If you get a deal, you’ll pay me a lot MORE money.”  I believe that the up-front money should be enough to serve as an incentive for the producer to actually do something with it.  It should hurt them if they fail to do their job.

Purchase or Option?

There are two main ways to structure your deal: An outright purchase or an option.

In a purchase, the producer buys the film rights to your book for all time.  The contract language reads, “forever and throughout the universe.”  I’m not making that up.  The structure of the purchase will be as above–money up front (“front-end” money) which is paid in full when the contract is signed, and “back-end” money (often a significantly larger sum) which will be paid on the first day of “principal photography”, which means filming actors.  Principal photography is distinct from, say, B-roll footage.  Because they own the rights outright, the producer can take as long as they want to make the movie.

In an option, the producer essentially rents the film rights for a negotiated period of time, after which the rights revert back to the author, who gets to keep the check and shop the project around to other producers.  Options have front-end and back-end money, but the front-end is generally much less than the back-end because of the additional risks posed by the ticking clock.

Options can be renewed.  In fact, every option deal I’ve seen has an automatic renewal built into the contract, with the renewal period generally being half that of the original option (and for additional money).  After that first pro-forma renewal, as the option period is about to expire, the producer can opt to extend it for a negotiated sum, but the author is under no obligation to grant the extension.

Series Writers Beware!

Every film contract, whether by option or by outright purchase, has a sticky and scary clause that grants the producer the production rights of specified characters “forever and throughout the universe.”  For an option, the character rights expire with the option–unless the film gets made, in which case the clause will lock in forever.

A good friend of mine sold the rights to the first book in what has since become a long-running series to one of the major studios.  The movie was made and did . . . okay, but not well enough in the minds of the studio execs to justify another film.  Since then, as the book series has gone on to blockbuster business worldwide, my friend has been offered many other movie deals, but since that first studio owns the rights to his series character, he can’t take any of the deals.  To make it even worse, the original studio has no desire to make another film; they’ve just set a ridiculous price tag for other producers to buy the rights to the series character.

Front-End Money is likely the only payment you’ll ever receive.  Negotiate accordingly.

Many years ago, my film agent set my head right about the movie business when he told me that for a film to make it to the screen, a million things have to go right with literally nothing going wrong.  Directors and stars drop in and out of projects, producers get distracted and lose interest.  The latest film in a genre similar to yours tanks at the box office.  Any of these things–and a thousand others–can tank a film before it’s ever made.

When negotiating a deal, treat it as if you’re never going to see another dime after you walk away from the negotiating table.

Do nothing without getting paid.

I can’t count the number of writers I’ve met who are so thrilled that a “movie producer” wants to make a movie or TV show out of their book that they essentially give away the option rights.  Producers know that authors are easy prey and they take advantage.  Don’t be a victim.

The best equivalent I can think of would be convenience store owner going to Coca-Cola and Nabisco and saying, “If you stock my shelves free of charge, I’ll pay you when I sell stuff.”  It doesn’t work that way.  Show some respect for your own intellectual property.  If producer doesn’t have at least a few thousand bucks to invest in their own business (selling intellectual properties written by others), then they’re bottom-feeders who won’t hesitate an instant to throw you under the nearest bus.

Another truth about Hollywood: Everybody lies. This was the hardest adjustment for me to make when I was working on the Warner lot for a few months.  Handshakes don’t mean a thing, and everyone knows it.  There’s not a single person in any studio or production office who isn’t scared to death that they will be fired tomorrow.  It’s the way the system works.

If it’s not in writing, it’s not real.

Don’t sign anything without consulting an agent or entertainment lawyer.

Hollywood is built on people’s dreams, half of them crushed.  All contracts I’ve seen are dictated by California law, and the lawmakers know how important the film industry is to the economy.  The standard option contracts are abusive to authors, reflecting the general disdain that Tinseltown has for writers.  There are terms of art that are unique to the business.  If you’re not careful, getting that option check might turn out to be the worst day of your professional life.

And you know what?  I’d do another deal in a heartbeat.

READER FRIDAY: What Book Would You Like to See Developed for Movies? (Yours or Another Novel)


Have you ever dreamed about one of your books or your series becoming a movie? Dream big or go home, I say. Share your thoughts and why you think your book(s) would make a good film.

Or maybe you have a favorite book that you would like to see on the big or small screen. Tell us about that book and why you think it would be a great film.

Mystery Movies

As the holidays approach, we may be looking for gifts that appeal to writers. In my house, movies are always welcome. Besides the classics like Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie, here are some of my favorites in the mystery genre or movies involving writers. A happy ending is a must for my taste. This list does not include TV series or the Hallmark Channel mystery movie collection.


AMERICAN DREAMER with JoBeth Williams and Tom Conti.
One of my all-time favorites. A romance novelist wins a contest and a trip to Paris. En route to the awards luncheon, she’s in an accident and suffers a head injury. She wakes up believing herself to be the heroine in her favorite books. A spy caper follows that’s all too real, as she teams up with the author’s handsome son who thinks she’s a nutcase. That is, until someone tries to kill them.

DROWNING MONA with Danny DeVito and Bette Midler.
A funny whodunit in a small town with a wacky cast of characters.

GOSFORD PARK with Helen Mirren and Jeremy Northam.
An English drawing room mystery in the grand fashion that takes place at a country estate. Aristocrats and servants alike have secrets that slowly unravel during a hunting party weekend. Albeit a bit slow-paced, this film requires repeat viewings to catch the nuances.

HER ALIBI with Tom Selleck and Paulina Portzkova.
A hilarious escapade wherein mystery novelist Phillip Blackwood falls for a suspected murderess while searching for inspiration to unlock his writer’s block. Did the mysterious and beautiful foreigner have a hand in the victim’s death? If so, is he foolish to vouch for her alibi and bring her home? And are the accidents that ensue truly accidents, or is he next in line for her lethal highjinks?

MANHATTAN MURDER MYSTERY with Woody Allen and Diane Keaton.
A Manhattan housewife thinks her next door neighbor is a murderer. She enlists her friends to search for clues. Probably my favorite Woody Allen film out of all of them.

MURDER 101 with Pierce Brosnan.
English professor Charles Lattimore assigns his class to plan the perfect murder as a literary exercise, but when he’s framed for a woman’s death, he has to find the killer before the detective on the case finds him. Will his students help him solve a real murder, or is one of them guilty?

MURDER BY THE BOOK with Robert Hays.
A mystery novelist thinks he’s hallucinating when his hero appears in front of him and talks back. He’s been thinking of changing to a new series and scrapping the sleuth, but now he needs the fellow’s help to solve a real murder.

THE BOY NEXT DOOR with Dina Meyer and Christopher Russell.
A romance writer goes on a retreat to a small town to seek inspiration for her next story. When her next door neighbor is found dead, the chief of police suspects her. Even when her place is ransacked and someone tries to run her off the road, he discounts her theories and refuses to look into the incidents. It’s up to our heroine to prove her innocence and uncover the killer before his next attack turns fatal.

FLOWER GIRL (Hallmark Channel Movie)
This is a classic romance with an element of mystery. The heroine has to choose between two suitors: a staid lawyer approved by her mother, and a writer who answers evasively whenever she asks about his work. Guess who she’ll pick? The revelation at the end is reminiscent of American Dreamer.

What are some of your favorite films involving murder mysteries or writers? Note: I am on a cruise and will not be able to respond, but you can make suggestions and I’ll check back later.