As screenwriters and screenwriting students, we often worry about the “like-ability” of our main characters.  In fact, entire books (Blake Snyder’s Save The Cat for example) have been crafted around the principle that unless your main character is a “nice” person– a saver of cats, a lover of children, a hooker with a heart of gold– an audience will be unable to connect with them or care about them.  Writers who cling to this principle often find themselves cut off from their characters, and with them, from their writer’s voice.   Much as we often do in our personal lives, such writers find themselves covering up their character’s “true self” for fear of offending some unknown audience who might judge, hate, or worst of all, stop caring about a character who doesn’t conform to society’s ideals.

The result, of course, is boring, lifeless, one-dimensional characters, who neither live, breathe, nor make mistakes: characters who are less real than the people who write them, and therefore not worthy of our attention.  Building your movie around a character like this is like taking a cruise in a leaky boat.  Without a real character around whom to build your structure, you’re going to spend most of your time bailing out water.

You spend all your time trying to create a character who is likable– only to discover that nobody likes them anyway.

So how do Bidigain and Audiard get away with it?  How do they manage to make an audience fall in love with a cast of horrible people– while you can’t even get anyone to care about the most noble character in your whole movie?

Read on.

But first, a spoiler alert.  If you haven’t already seen A Prophet get yourself to a theatre!  This movie is way too good to miss.  And far too instructive as well.

To understand how Bidigain and Audiard can make your heart break for characters who should, by every definition, be “un-likable”, we only need to examine one scene.  It comes toward the end of the movie.  Cesar Luciani, the white-haired Corsican crime boss, has spotted Malik, our hero, in the yard, standing with his new Muslim friends.  This is a huge change, especially in the racially charged atmosphere of the prison.  Up until now, Malik has spent every day in the yard with Cesar, forsaking his own Arab people for the protection of Cesar’s Corsican gang.   But today, everything is different.  Though Cesar doesn’t yet know it, Malik has betrayed him.  Cesar’s once powerful connections, both inside and outside the prison, are gone.  Malik is the only thing he has left.

Cesar gestures to Malik with a gentle nod of his head to come over.  But Malik doesn’t move.  Cesar nods again, more desperate now.  Still no response from Malik.

Cesar makes a decision.  He stands up, and walks across the yard toward Malik, crossing the invisible line that divides the Corsican from the Muslim prison population.  Malik sends two thugs to intercept Cesar, but the old man pushes right past them.  As weakened as he may be, we know what Cesar can do– his limitless capacity for violence.  And at this moment, seeing how much power remains in the old man, we fear for Malik.  It seems like truly nothing can stop Cesar.

And then, one swift punch from a nameless thug, and Cesar is lying on the ground, writhing in agony, exposed for exactly what he is– an old man for whose only remaining connection in the world has just been severed.

At that moment, your heart breaks for Cesar.

Even as you feel the emotion, you’re shocked that it’s even possible to feel this way.  After all, this is the man who targeted the young Malik, without provocation, and brutalized him until Malik was forced to bend to his will.  This is the man who forced Malik to commit the bloody murder that changed him forever, in a scene so shockingly violent that the man in front of me at the theatre started whimpering and waving his hands in front of his face, unable to contain his visceral reaction.

This is a man who has nearly removed Malik’s eye with a spoon, has beaten him, humiliated him, corrupted him, brutalized him, called him an Arab dog, and treated him like a slave.  A criminal, a racist, a brutal, corrupt man without a noble or kind bone in his body.

How is it possible that you can feel this way about this truly horrible person?  Can your heart really be breaking for him?

Of course it can.

Your heart breaks because you know Malik’s heart is breaking.  And of course it is.  Because at this moment, Malik is losing the best parts of himself: his compassion, his humanity, and even more.

This orphan, this troubled child, raised in a group home without ever knowing his father or mother, is losing the only father he ever had.

Cesar may have been a terrible father.  But he is nonetheless a father.  He has protected Malik, provided for his physical needs, given him protection, opportunity, power, access, leave-days from prison, and even the possibility of parole.  He has bestowed affection and praise.  He has turned Malik into a man– and into an image of himself.

In my classes, I often talk about archetypal structure: using supporting characters in a Jungian fashion to reveal the repressed aspects of your main character, and to force your main character to come to terms with the parts of himself that he doesn’t want to even admit are there.  In true archetypal fashion, Cesar is both the biggest threat to Malik– the key to unlocking the darkest aspects Malik’s personality– and the loving father Malik so desperately needs.

And at this moment, Malik has murdered him.

He’s done so literally, by betraying Cesar to the powerful Italian crime boss that Cesar had plotted to kill, and metaphorically, by leaving the old man trembling in the yard at the moment he most needs him.

For just as Cesar has been an archetypal father for Malik, so too has Malik been the closest thing Cesar has had to a son.

And at this moment, Cesar is losing him.

That’s why, at this moment, you find yourself silently pleading with Malik.

Go to him.  Go to him.  Don’t leave him there, trembling on the ground.

A “like-able” character would do it.  He’d run to Cesar, embrace him like a father, and the two men would be reconciled, like Billy Elliot and his own terrible father after the final dance sequence.

Malik doesn’t.  He makes the “unlikeable” decision.  And you understand.  You empathize.  And you care.  Because Malik doesn’t have a choice.  He has to steel his heart against Cesar, or Cesar will destroy him.

You empathize, because Malik is struggling with the same desire you are feeling as you watch him.  The voice in his head saying Go to him.  That desperate desire we all have: to reconcile with those who have most hurt us, to be a compassionate person, to have everything be okay.

Empathy doesn’t come from like-ability.  Just like back in high school.  Remember that annoying kid who always wanted to hang out with you?  It didn’t matter how nice he was.  You didn’t want to spend time with him.  Because he wasn’t being himself.  He was being who he thought you wanted him to be.

Empathy comes from allowing your characters to be who they are, and to pursue what they most want and need, against impossible odds.

Empathy comes when you make it hard, and allow your characters to make the decisions, right or wrong, that only they can make.

Thanks to everyone who came out for the fabulous Challenge Party last night.  We had a great time!

Classes start TONIGHT (Feb 1st) so I’d like to take this opportunity to invite you all to come check them out (remember, you can check out your first session for only 20 bucks)

Where To Go From Here

Even if you didn’t do the challenge perfectly, if you’ve stuck with it, you’ve probably found by now that you’re in a pretty good rhythm.  In fact, you may even notice you start to feel strange on days when you don’t write!

Take a moment to celebrate and commemorate your success, and then keep that rhythm going!

Remember, writing begets more writing.  Obey that little clock in your head that says “oh, it’s time to do my pages today!”

For those of you who have struggled to find your rhythm, or are still finishing the challenge, remember, each page you write brings you one step closer to the rhythm you’re seeking.  So the best way to get to where you want to be is to build upon where you are.

Take a moment right now to celebrate what you have accomplished.  Forget for a little while about where you fell short, and concentrate instead on where you succeeded.  If you’re writing more now than when you began the challenge, you’re already a success.

So celebrate the days you did write, rather than bemoaning the ones you didn’t.  Even writing once a week can become the foundation for a writing life.

You may also want to spend a little time examining things that are getting in the way of establishing your rhythm.

Have you been beating yourself up over the quality of your work, rather than keeping the focus on how many pages you are generating?

Are you allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of success that comes with completing your pages, or are you cheating yourself of the joy of writing by focusing on your failures?

Are there activities that are getting in the way of your writing, favorite procrastination techniques that make writing “impossible”, or small changes you could make to your day to carve out the 15 minutes you need?

Do you have the support you need to get you through the difficult writing times?  Or is it time to sign up for a workshop, master class, script consultation, or hypnosis session?

As you look back at your pages, you may find that you have many pages you love, or there might just be a few.  Focus on the things that you can build on.  It might be just one page.  It might be one line.  It might be a character you’re curious about, an image that resonates for you, or a rhythm you want to explore.

You can use these exciting bits to inspire the next phase of your writing journey.  Some of them may even grow into complete screenplays!  Others may seem useless now, and then surprise you when they pop back into your head as the perfect answer to something you are struggling with in your writing.

Whatever rhythm you have established for yourself, make sure you keep it up.  These three pages you write every day are sacred– one of the few times you get to simply play as a writer, exploring ideas without the need for “usable” pages, “good” writing, or a “finished” product.

Stay tuned for my next newsletter, in which I’ll be discussing some steps you can take to set yourself on the next phase of your writing journey.

If you’ve completed the full 30 days of writing, please drop me a line and let me know about your experiences!

I’m sure you’re going to love her teleseminar.  And you don’t even have to go anywhere to experience it!

CONQUERING PROCRASTINATION
A Workshop For Creative, Intelligent People Who Get Stuck
With Dr. Audrey Sussman, PhD, LCSW, NBCCH
Thursday, January 28th at 9:15pm

Here’s a link to sign up:

http://www.actionsendsprocrastination.com/freecall/

You can learn more about all the wonderful work she does at her website:  http://www.anxietycontrolcenter.com

Question for you: I wrote a short script that this guy wants to film and possibly enter into some festivals. I just want the writing credit, no money- do you think a contract is necessary in a case like this? Or is a gentleman’s agreement usually good? Luke S.

Jake’s Answer:

Glad to hear about the upcoming move and even more exciting– the good news about this guy making your script.

Although I’m not a lawyer myself and can’t give legal advice, my suggestion, for both of your protection, never ever ever ever ever do a deal without a contract.

Get a standard, boiler plate contract (you can probably find one online or ask a lawyer or agent friend to find one for you). Have a lawyer friend make any modifications necessary, and make sure your lawyer friend looks it over before you sign anything.

Do not negotiate a deal yourself. Do not make up your own contract. Most likely neither of you know enough about the law or standard practices in the industry to make a deal that will actually protect you.

Written contracts clarify what both of your expectations are– and without them, many of the best partnerships can end up being destroyed– not only when things go badly, but also when they go well.

For example: Your movie ends up becoming the all time biggest festival hit ever. Hollywood decides they want to turn it into a feature… they’re offering a ton of money.

If you have a contract: You know in advance how much of that money you get, and your buddy knows how much he gets. You’re both happy and delighted and get to go have a drink and celebrate your success together.

If you don’t– you and your buddy now have to fight over how much of that money you deserve. He argues you would have had nothing without his producing. You argue he would have nothing without your script. Before long, you hate each other, and possibly even end up killing the deal because you can’t work out your side of the bargain and neither of you can move ahead without the other’s consent.

I can tell you from experience that fight will happen no matter how good a guy your friend may be– because people do crazy things when that much money is on the table.

Another example: The studio wants to make the movie, but they want to hire a bigger name writer. If you have a contract, your buddy tells them “sorry guys, I’ve got a contract with this guy– I can’t do it”.  If he doesn’t– he now has to make a choice between taking a stand for you, and possibly blowing not only the deal but his relationship with the studio, or saying yes to their demands and destroying his friendship with you. Not a fun situation to be in.

Use a lawyer. It won’t cost you nearly as much as the pain you suffer later if you don’t. Volunteer Lawyers for the Arts may even help you for free. And it may very well save your relationship.

2010 SCREENWRITING CHALLENGE PARTY!
Sunday, January 31st, 2010, 9 pm
Playwright Tavern*
202 W 49th St.
(between 7th Ave & Broadway)
New York, NY 10019
212-262-9263

*Make sure not to confuse it with the OTHER Playwright Tavern on 8th Ave. We won’t be there!

Celebrate your achievement, win prizes, share your experiences, indulge in discounted drinks, and make some new writer friends!

Whether you’ve participated in every day of the challenge, or are just getting your feet wet in the writing world, this party is for you.

You’ll also have the opportunity to mingle with some of my Master Class Writers, who will be celebrating the completion of their reading series!

Hope to see you all there!

But what if you’re struggling? What if your writing schedule is spotty or uneven? What if there were some days when you didn’t write a word.

Even the best writers have days when they feel like they just don’t have it in them. So this newsletter is about understanding where writers block comes from, so you can start turning those tough writing days into days that you can be proud of.

If you missed the first newsletter and you’re not sure what all this Challenge stuff is about, find out more here.

Also, please save the date for the annual CHALLENGE PARTY!

2010 SCREENWRITING CHALLENGE PARTY!
Sunday, January 31st, 2010
9 pm
Location To Be Announced! NYC Area.

Celebrate your achievement, win prizes, share your experiences, and make some new writer friends!

Hope to see you all there!

ARTICLE
WHAT TO DO WHEN IT’S JUST NOT COMING
Understanding the Causes of Writers Block

It’s the most coveted time for writers. The rare moment when the words are just flowing, when writing feels effortless and the ideas are coming faster than you can write them down. During times like these, it’s easy to think of yourself as a writer.

But how are you supposed to think of yourself as a real writer at times when the words are NOT flowing? What do you do when you find yourself staring at a blank page, wondering if you even have anything worthwhile to say.

The way you respond to these difficult writing times will define your life as a writer, and the happiness and longevity of your writing career.

The times when things are not flowing are as natural a part of the writing process as the times when things are. But because these times can be so trying emotionally, we often experience them as writing failures. One perceived failure builds upon another, and before long we start to fear writing. Under these circumstances, even the thought of sitting down to write can become painful.

This is often the real source of writers block, a long chain of negative emotions, linked together until you feel completely paralyzed in your writing.

In order to break through these kinds of blocks, you need to break the chain of fear and pain associated with writing. One of the ways I do this with many of my coaching clients is through hypnosis.

The experiences of your creative life do not exist in a vacuum. Rather, they are interwoven with other elements of your life, and the millions of other emotions you experience every day.

In fact, you can imagine each event in your life like a single domino in the most complex arrangement of dominoes in the world. Within this arrangement, your creative experiences are mixed in and interwoven with the emotions of your entire personal history, spanning from your childhood all the way into the future. Family conflicts, romantic relationships, dreams, successes, failures, old traumas and new hopes, everything is included, and more importantly, interconnected.

It’s no wonder then that positive or negative feelings you associate with writing can profoundly affect the way you feel in every other aspect of your life. After a successful writing day, you feel fully charged, confident, hopeful, ready to take on the world. But on days when it’s just not coming, negative emotions can spill over from your writing life into the rest of your experience, leading to feelings of grief, fear, hopelessness, or even depression.

The result is often a vicious cycle. The more the negative feelings pile up, the more blocked you become, and the more you beat yourself up emotionally. The negative feelings associated with this self abuse get attached to the ones that got you blocked in the first place. And instead of releasing your blocks, you end up reinforcing them.

The first step you can take toward freeing yourself from writers block is recognizing the cycle of self abuse when it’s happening, and forcing yourself to put a stop to it.

But for some writers, this may not be enough.

The deepest creative blocks reside at the unconscious level, so to deal with them effectively, you may need some unconscious help. Imagine if rather than trying to consciously wrestle with each and every emotional “domino” in your chain one by one, you could use the power of your unconscious mind to simply track your creative block directly to its source. Push down that first “domino”, release that emotion and everything else on the chain falls into place. Just like an arrangement of dominoes.

If this sounds good to you, it’s probably time to set up a private hypnosis session.

More information about hypnosis and upcoming screenwriting workshops.

Here are some of the common questions that tend to come up with the challenge and some answers that may help you jump-start your writing.

I’d also like to make you all aware of a special offer that will allow you to check out any of my upcoming classes and workshops for only $20 bucks!

If you missed the first newsletter and you’re not sure what all this Challenge stuff is about, find out more here.

Common Questions About The Challenge:

Question:
I really wanted to participate, but I missed the deadline to get started. Should I just wait until next time?

Answer:
It’s never too late to join the challenge. Go out today, buy yourself a journal, and get started. Give yourself 30 days, and start writing. The important thing is the commitment to writing every day, not the day you start or finish.

As writers, we often feel the urge to put off our writing for the “right” time, when we are less busy, less stressed out, have more time, more money, etc. We imagine some nearby future when we’ll have the time to pursue our passion. But as we all know too well, the “right” time never comes. We are always just a little too busy, too stressed, or too broke. And of course, the fact that we’re not writing makes those negative feelings even worse.

There’s only one guaranteed way to make the “right” time come, by carving out the tiny bit of time you do have right now, and using that to build the future you want.

Question:
I’ve been doing the challenge, but I hate everything I’m writing. And now I feel like I’m starting to lose steam.

Answer:
As writers we play a strange game with ourselves. Instead of dwelling on our successes, we focus on our failures as evidence that we were not meant to be writers. Usually this has more to do with fear than anything else. Fear of failure. Fear of rejection. Fear that we don’t have what it takes.

When your judgment of your writing is based on fear, it has little connection to reality. You may dismiss brilliant writing as terrible simply because you are afraid that others won’t like it. Or you may fall in love with scenes that are not working, simply because they feel safe to you.

There are many ways to overcome these kinds of fears. Many writers find that it helps to join one of my Workshops or Master Classes, where you can receive honest feedback about what is actually working or not working in your writing, rather than playing out your worst fears in your head.

Writers block isn’t just about the actual writing. It’s about the subconscious, underlying emotions that get in the way of writing. For deep rooted emotional blocks, many students set up private coaching sessions with me. In these sessions, we use cutting-edge hypnotic techniques to get under the surface, uncover the subconscious roots of your creative blocks, and eliminate them at the source.

Here’s something you can do today to put yourself on the path to discovering the writer within you: give yourself the permission to write badly.

All writers write badly, all the time. Even the true greats leave hundreds of discarded pages in their hard drives, never to see the light of day. Accepting that this is a natural part of the process allows you to focus your energy where it belongs: not on judging the pages, but on creating them.

When you give yourself permission to write badly, you are actually allowing inspiration in. You will notice that your writing becomes more fun and exciting, freer, and fuller. Writing ceases to be a chore, and begins to feel like an adventure. Before long, you’ll discover that you no longer have to drag yourself to your journal in the morning. You actually want to write!

Of course, there is a time when judging your work is important, when it’s time to invite the editing brain to the table, and give it free reign to pull apart the pages you’ve written. But it is not during the initial creation of your work. Remember, it is only by writing the bad stuff that you discover the good.

Question:
I started strong, but then I missed a day and got totally out of rhythm. Now I’m three days behind and it doesn’t seem worth it anymore. Maybe I’m not really dedicated to this after all.

Answer:
Usually when a writer is thinking about giving up, it’s more about fear than about rhythm. But there are times when we simply get off our game. Here’s the key: don’t let a couple of missed days get between you and your life as a writer.

If a vegetarian accidentally takes a bite of a burger, it doesn’t mean he is no longer a vegetarian. It just means he took a bite of a burger.

But countless writers will interpret a day or two of missed writing as evidence that they are not really dedicated to their craft.

Usually the truth is the opposite. If writing was just a hobby for you, you wouldn’t be agonizing over your missed writing days. You’d just find another hobby.

In fact, it’s probably your fierce dedication to being a writer that’s causing you so much agony. Because you’re not writing and you don’t understand why.

Dwelling in the past is not going to help you overcome this problem. The only way to get back into rhythm is by allowing yourself permission to not be perfect. There are going to be days that you miss. There might even be weeks. The key is recognizing when you get off rhythm, and picking back up as soon as you do. Grab your journal, hide out for 15 minutes, and write today.

Soon, you’ll discover that you don’t even have to try to find your rhythm. Your rhythm will find you.

Not just the kind of completions you make in your life.  The kinds of completions you make in your scenes.

Completions are the single most important element in distinguishing a successful scene from an unsuccessful one.  

No matter how creative you are as a writer, no matter how compelling your characters, no matter how well observed your dialogue may be, if your scenes don’t have completions, they’re not going to drive your story forward.  

Completions are the key to making the leap from scene to structure– making your scenes actually DO what you need them to do in order to serve your story.

Get them right, and you can screw up a lot of other stuff and still tell a great story.

Get them wrong, and all you’ve got is a bunch of smoke and mirrors, no matter how brilliant you may be.

So what is a completion?  And how can you use completions in your own work?

Every Scene Begins With A Character

Before you can fully understand what a completion is and how to use it in your movie, it’s important to begin by understanding what a character is. 

Now, this may seem like an elementary question.  We see characters every day.  Your girlfriend, your brother, your boss, your best friend, they’re all characters.  But as writers, we must understand character on an even deeper level, so that we can begin to discover a structure for a movie that tests your character and forces her to expand or change in a profound way.  

Doing this does not require an intricate road map of every psychological nuance of your character.  And it certainly doesn’t require a “paint by numbers” outline of the plot of your movie.

All it actually requires is a simple want: what the great acting teacher Stanislavski would describe as an “objective” for the character to pursue in the scene.

Objectives can be as big as saving the world, and as small as a drink of water.  But to serve you structurally, a couple of things should be clear about the objective.

1) The Character Had Better Want It BADLY.
2)  It Better Be Hard To Get

When objectives are easily achieved, they don’t mean much structurally.  But when they’re hard to get, and deeply desired, they become the guideposts to understanding a character’s journey. 

Remember the scene in Trainspotting in which Ewan McGregor climbs into the “worst toilet in Britain” to retrieve his opium suppositories?  Of course you do.  If he’d simply been able to get high in a normal way, you might have been grossed out, but you’d have forgotten the scene long ago.  And more importantly, you’d never really understand the profundity of his addiction. 

Every Scene Ends With A Completion

Scenes happen when a character, in his or her own unique way, battles against an obstacle to get what he or she wants.  But no matter how big your obstacles and how strong with your objectives, without completions the structure of your movie can’t take shape.  

Completions occur when one phase of your character’s journey ends, and another begins.  When a want is either achieved or abandoned, leading to a new objective and a new obstacle.  

Because film is a visual medium, these completions should be visual as well:  a series of images, either literal or metaphorical, which if you laid them side by side would capture the entire journey of your character in relation to her most deeply held desires.   

This string of objectives and completions will ultimately become the fundamental underpinning not only of your character’s journey, but of the organic structure that will lead you there. 

Four Kinds Of Completions

I used to classify completions into three categories, however at the recent suggestion of one of my students, I’ve begun to include a fourth more nuanced variation as well.  (Thank you, Jonathan!) 

To illustrate each of these ideas, we’re going to riff on the Trainspotting “worst toilet in Britain” scene.  In simple terms, Ewan McGregor’s character Renton has sworn off heroin, and desperately wants his last fix. Unable to get any real heroin, he has procured some opium suppositories, but after an unfortunate series of scatological events, has lost them down the most disgusting toilet in Britain (and possibly the world).  

1)  The Character Gets What He Wants

In the film, Renton proceeds to reach, and then ultimately climb into the disgusting toilet in a surrealistic sequence as he searches for his fix.  That’s how bad he wants it, and what he’s willing to do to get it. 

COMPLETION:  Renton returns home with the recovered opium suppositories.  He holds them up and they twinkle in the light.  

Having gotten what he wanted, his last fix, Renton can now set his sights on the next step of his journey, attempting to live a life without heroin.

2)  The Character Doesn’t Get What He Wants

Let’s imagine a different version of the scene.

Renton reaches into the toilet but cannot reach his fix.  He forces his hand deeper and deeper into the toilet and perhaps even undergoes the fantastical underwater journey, but just as he has the suppositories in his grips, his movement causes the automatic sensor to flush the toilet.  In his desperate attempt to get the drugs, he rends the toilet from it’s foundation, spraying water (and worse) everywhere, and even reaches into the sewage plumbing but the drugs are gone forever.

COMPLETION: Renton sits amidst the broken wreckage of the toilet, trembling from withdrawal. 

His quest to retrieve the suppositories having proved unsuccessful, he has no choice but to come up with a new objective, which will lead him to the next obstacle and the next completion.

3)  The Character Gets Interrupted

Interruptions occur when a character abandons his original objective for an even more compelling one. 

For example:  Renton is searching for the drugs in the toilet when the woman he most loves enters the bathroom and almost vomits with disgust before dashing out of the bathroom.  As much as Renton wants the drugs, at this moment he has a stronger objective– to somehow explain his actions to her and avoid losing her forever.

COMPLETION:  As Renton races after her out of the bar.  The twinkling suppositories dissolve and disappear in the murky toilet water

His previous objective has been replaced by a new one, which leads him to the next phase of his journey, rescuing his relationship with the girl. 

And finally the new fourth variation:

4)  The Character Gets Part of What He Wants

Renton has finally caught up with the woman he loves.  By now he is already starting to feel the withdrawal symptoms, but he still pleads for her to understand.   She presses a wad of money into his hand, and tells him to get himself a fix.  Then she turns her back on him, leaving forever. 

COMPLETION:  Renton puts the money in his pocket, turns around, and walks back toward the bar, where he can procure his next fix.  

Having achieved the drugs, but lost the girl forever, Renton will once again be forced to develop a new objective.

Completions Give Meaning To Scenes

As you can see from the examples above, the visual completion you choose for your scene can vastly change its structural effect on the character’s journey.  Even more importantly, when you build strong completions for your scenes, those completions organically lead you to new wants, new obstacles, and new plot points that can comprise the structure of your character’s transformation. 

Completions give your scenes the movement you need to drive your story forward, and the visual clarity to track each step of your character’s change, and to force your character to make active choices that drive his experience.  

And the great thing about completions is that you can adjust them to create the most dramatic journey possible for your character, just as we did with the new versions of “worst toilet in Britain” scene above.  

If Your Movie Isn’t Moving, You Probably Need Better Completions

Over the next several weeks, as you go to see movies or read screenplays, pay attention to the completions of each scene.  Notice how filmmakers use these visual completions to lock in the story of the main character, clarify their wants, and track the shape of their change.

Then, as you return to your own work, think about the completions of your scenes.  Are they as strong as you would like them to be?  Clear enough?  Visual enough?  What can you do to make them even more powerful? 

The stronger your completion, the clearer the shape of your character’s journey, and the easier it will become to organically discover the structure you need to power your plot. 

What Are The Obstacles To Your Objectives?  And What Will Your Completion Be?

The world is not built for artists, and as writers we all face profound obstacles.  The demands of family, friends and jobs.  The inertia that gets in the way of charting a new course.  The old habits that lead to procrastination when we want to be creating.  And the self doubt that leads us to turn our backs on the creative life we so desperately need.

As your 2010 begins, consider the shape you’d like your New Year to take.  What is the creative journey you will create for yourself?  How can you power the plot of your creative life? And what are the steps you will take so that your next year can build to the kind of completion you have always dreamed for yourself? 

Take The First Step Today

Check out my upcoming classes and workshops including my brand new Screenwriter’s Weekend and Acting For Writers Workshops at www.WriteYourScreenplay.com.

2010 SCREENWRITING CHALLENGE

Why The Challenge?

Let’s face it, the holidays are a brutal time for writers.

We all do our best writing when we get into a rhythm. But during the holiday season that rhythm can be impossible to maintain.  Schedules get jammed with Christmas parties, gifts to buy, family visits and a little too much vacation time and the next thing you know you haven’t written for a month.

But that’s not the real problem.  The real problem is starting up again.
Ideally, writing would be part of your daily routine.  As natural as brushing your teeth, getting dressed for work, or drinking your morning coffee.

But for most writers this is rarely the case.  Many of us write in fits and starts, waiting desperately for moments of inspiration, and spending most of our time beating ourselves up when that inspiration doesn’t come.  And then, just when we get started on a rhythm, something happens to interrupt it.

I’m always amused when I participate in writing panels.  Invariably, an eager young student asks a question about building a life as a writer. “What real writers do is write” insists one panel member after another, striving to out do each other as they speak of their unceasing dedication to their craft.

Having worked with writers for most of my professional life, I know the truth.  It doesn’t matter if you’re an Academy Award Winner or a first time writer.  Most of what writers do is NOT writing.

What writers really do is PROCRASTINATE.

Writers are brilliant at finding “important” tasks to interfere with their writing.  Set aside a couple hours to write, and suddenly those dirty dishes start to call to you.  The next thing you know you’ve cleaned your whole kitchen, scrubbed your shower tiles to a sparkling shine, reorganized your closet, updated your facebook photos, and still not written a single word.

You’re furious at yourself.  But at the same time, a part of you feels like you didn’t have a choice.  Time just got away from you.  “I’ll write for twice as long tomorrow,” you reassure yourself.  But tomorrow comes and four hours seems like an impossible amount of time.  Even if you do manage to bang out a few pages, it’s impossible to derive any joy from them.  And the next thing you know, you’ve gone a whole week, month, or even year without writing.

Under these circumstances it’s easy to doubt if you’re really a writer at all.  You may even be tempted to give up on writing entirely.  You feel so blocked that you don’t see any way out.  But at the same time you know that giving up on writing would be giving up on the best part of yourself.  So what are you supposed to do?

The difference between successful and unsuccessful writers is not that one group never gets blocked.  The difference is that successful writers know how to maintain their creative rhythm even when inspiration is not flowing.

Start the New Year right by getting back into the rhythm of writing with this simple challenge:

Jacob Krueger’s
2010 SCREENWRITING CHALLENGE

On January 1st, go out and buy yourself a nice journal.  Find something that speaks to your personality, and makes you feel like a writer.  It’s okay to spend too much.  Think of it as an investment in something you’re going to use every day.

On January 2nd, set your clock to wake you up 15 minutes early, and as soon as you open your eyes, grab your journal and start writing.  You have 15 minutes to write three pages.  You have no time to edit or even to think.  Just go ahead and write whatever comes out as quickly as you possibly can.  It may be a scene or parts of a scene.  It may be a line of dialogue, or a monologue, or just thoughts about your character.  It may flow together, or it may not flow together at all.  Don’t even try to make it good.  Just allow your first instincts to find their way onto the page.

You’re going to repeat this process every day until January 31st, writing three pages every morning until writing is such a natural part of your daily routine that it occurs without even thinking about it.  Don’t read the pages you’ve written in the past.  Just wake up, and start writing.  You may find yourself continuing one storyline, or writing a new one every morning.  If you get stuck, rewrite the scene from the day before from memory.  It’s not important what you write.  It’s important THAT you write.

It’s this rhythm that is going to make you a writer.   So, if you sleep through one day, find 15 minutes to catch up later.  Take your journal with you on the subway.  Lock yourself in the bathroom at work.  Stay up 15 minutes later that night.

On January 31st, you’ll complete the challenge, and read your pages for the first time.  You’ll be amazed at what you see.

Then we’ll have a party to celebrate the work of everyone who has participated in the challenge, to share our experiences, and to make some new friends. (There will also be a raffle for some super screenwriting prizes!)

Register now by submitting your name and email address below, and you’ll also be entered into a special drawing to win a free screenwriting workshop!

	Join The 2010 Screenwriting Challenge! Email:

Happy New Year!  And Happy Writing!

Jacob Krueger

The art of writing and acting have always been profoundly intertwined. That’s because structurally, movies grow out of character. And character is the thing that actors understand best.

So what is character from an actor’s perspective? And how can that help you as a writer?

CHARACTER BEGINS WITH A WANT

As writers, we are often seduced by “characteristics” when we try to create character. Characteristics can be adjectives like “pretty”, “ugly” “eccentric”, “angry”, “jealous”, “selfish”, “generous”, “wacky”, or they can be elements of carefully crafted backstories “was abused by his father”, “studied chemistry”, “works as a plumber”, “grew up on a farm”.

You put a lot of work into thinking up all these elements, so you’d hope they’d lead to great characters. But unfortunately, more often than not, instead of helping you to create the kinds of characters you’d want to follow for 100 pages, they lead to stereotypes and cliches that neither capture an audience’s attention nor drive your stories forward.

If you don’t believe me, just turn on your TV. Watch any soap opera, and you’ll be amazed at the intricate backstories that have been created for these paper thin characters. Watch an episode of any lousy sit-com, and you’ll see characters with tons of highly unusual characteristics, that nevertheless feel like you’ve seen them before.

As any trained actor will tell you, the reason for this is simple.

Characters are not adjectives.

They’re not backstories. They’re not characteristics, no matter how interesting those characteristics may be.

Characters are verbs. And these verbs begin with a want.

WHAT DOES YOUR CHARACTER WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING?

When a great actor looks at a screenplay, that’s the question they’re asking. What does this character want more than anything? And what are the unique ways this character pursues that desperate desire, that are different from the way any other character would do so?

These wants affect every aspect of character. The way they speak. The actions they take. The choices they make. The way they dress. And of course, they also affect the choices actors make in performance.

Take a moment to observe the people around you, and you will notice that this is true in life as well. People do bizarre, unexpected, sometimes even incomprehensible things in pursuit of the things they want.

It is the unique way that they do these things that distinguish these people from anyone else in the world, that make you love them or hate them or fear them or desire them.

Take away that want, and all you have is quirk for it’s own sake– a paper thin shell with nothing underneath, like an M&M without the chocolately center.

Let your character pursue the want, and all the other aspects of his or her personality will reveal themselves to you. And when you crack that shell open, you’ll have all kinds of deliciousness to enjoy.

OBJECTIVE AND SUPEROBJECTIVE

Within a scene, the wants that drive a character are called Objectives. They can be as simple as a cold glass of water, or as profound as to reconnect with a lost love. The only thing that matters is that the character wants it desperately, and is willing to go to extraordinarily lengths to get it.

Within a larger movie, these small objectives point toward a larger Superobjective, a big want which governs in some way every choice the character makes, and everything that happens to the character, within the structure of the movie.

As an actor breaks down a script, he or she will find the Objective and Superobjective underlying every line, every action, and even every image, in order to craft a memorable character that pursues those wants in unique but believable ways.

Using an actor’s approach to think about your own characters in this way will not only help you to discover the qualities that differentiate your character, but also point you toward the structural moments to which your plot must build.

Once you learn what your character wants most desperately, you know what you can take away from them, how to test them, and how to make them change. And that, in fact, is the essence of screenplay structure.

ACTORS GET MOVIES MADE

The craft of the writer and the craft of the actor are inextricably intertwined, not just by process, but by business as well. Whether you’re producing your movie yourself, or trying to sell it to a big Hollywood studio, to get your movie made you need to be able to attract great actors. And that means knowing how to think like an actor, so that you can create the kinds of roles they want to play.

Objective and Superobjective are just the beginning. The more you know about the actors craft, the better writer you will become at creating characters, and the more likely you will be to attract the kind of star who can bring your movie to fruition.

Yet strangely, these two interrelated fields are often taught as if they were separate disciplines, with actors receiving little training in writing, and writers receiving even less training in acting.

That’s why all of my screenwriting workshops are fundamentally woven around acting concepts, as well as ideas tied to Jungian psychology, directing, and even editing and cinematography.

It’s also why I’m offering a brand new class this January, taught by acclaimed director Isabel Milenski, which will give you a chance to stand in the actor’s shoes, and experience the process as they do.

ACTING FOR WRITERS

This unique beginning workshop is designed to introduce screenwriters, playwrights, directors, producers and others new to acting to the actor’s craft.

Whether you’ve always dreamed of being on the stage or screen, or simply want to explore your own writing from the other side of the page, this class will help you knock down the walls between you and your characters through the magic of performance.

You’ll not only learn how an actor approaches a play or screenplay, you’ll have the experience of physically inhabiting a character, taking with you a new perspective that will forever change the way you see both writing and acting.

ACTING FOR WRITERS
An Eight Week Beginner’s Workshop
Saturdays, 2pm – 5pm
January 30th – March 20th, 2010
Normally: $550
After Holiday Discounts: ONLY $450
Sign Up Now!

How To Get Your Discounts:

Early Bird Discount: Automatically Save $50 When You Sign Up Before Dec. 25th.

THEN: Enter Discount Code: HOLIDAY50 When You Check Out and Save $50 MORE!

That’s a total savings of $100!

You can read all about Acting For Writers and my other Screenwriting Workshops at my website www.jacobkrueger.com.