jj

JJ sold his first screenplay at 23. If he’d read this article, he would’ve done it at 22.

So you want to write a screenplay? First, you gotta find a great concept. Something that’s got some pop to it. Imagine pitching your idea to someone you’ve never met. Would the idea excite them? Be honest now. If the answer’s yes, you’re ready to move forward. The second most important thing is a big strong memorable main character. “Strong” is a relative term. But if I were you, I’d go with someone who’s active, who goes after what they want. Someone like that is going to keep your story moving.

Speaking of character, at least one key character in your story should arc. You can do this with your main character. But a lot of people prefer to do it with a secondary character. Either way, give a character a flaw that prevents them from being whole, from being happy, from living up to their full potential as a human being. They could be selfish, stubborn, introverted, self-destructive. Whatever feels organic to the story you’re telling. You will be placing this character in numerous situations that challenge this flaw. So if your character is Buckles Under Pressure Peter, put them in a lot of tough situations that show them buckling under pressure.

Next, you need to know where your script ends. You need to know the Death Star is going to blow up. Once you know where you end, you can start charting how to get there. Don’t worry. Writing is rewriting. So if you come up with a better ending later on, you can change it. Now it’s time to figure out your first act. Start off with a scene that introduces us to your hero. Think of your hero’s introductory scene as an interview with the audience. The most important thing you have to accomplish in this interview is prove why your hero is awesome. We’re about to spend 2 hours with this guy. If we think he’s lame after the scene, you’re doomed.

Next, you need to figure out your inciting incident (roughly page 15). This is the meteor that comes crashing down into your hero’s life and challenges them to go off on their journey. They won’t want to go yet. They’ll resist it for another 10 pages. Human beings don’t like change. They want to stay in their safe little bubble. But then on page 25, the end of Act 1, you’ll send them into the Matrix. Their adventure will begin.

Before we get to the second act, a word about scenes. Writing a good scene is like writing a good story. And here’s the best way to do it. Have one character (usually your hero) come into the scene wanting something. It could be to break up. It could be to get back together. It could be to get information. It could be to inspire the team with a half-time speech so that they come back and win the championship. Whatever it is, you want the other character, or characters, to resist. Whatever Character A is trying to get, Character B doesn’t want to give it to them. You may say, “Well why would the characters on the team not want to come back for their coach?” They may want to come back, but they don’t want to play the way the coach is telling them to play. Resistance is the easiest way to create CONFLICT, and conflict is the lifeblood of a good scene.

You’re now in the second act. This is where 99% of amateur screenwriters are exposed. So I’m going to make it easier for you. The second act is 50-60 pages long. We’re going to say 60 pages to keep the numbers clean. You will break your second act into four 15-page sequences. You will no longer think of it as a giant second act. You will think of it as four stories you have to tell. The easiest way to tell these stories is to have a character goal for each one. In The Mule, one of the sequences is Clint Eastwood proving he can deliver the drugs successfully. So there are several scenes of him delivering the drugs to the target point. It’s important that during these sequences, you provide obstacles that make the goals difficult. Clint delivering the drugs without a hitch is boring. A suspicious cop stopping him is what gives these small stories pop.

Sequences should never constrain you. Just because a sequence is about Clint delivering drugs doesn’t mean you can’t include a scene where he goes to his granddaughter’s wedding. As long as you can fit it into the sequence naturally, you can include it. And as long as the overall sequence stays focused on the drug delivery, you’re good.

Also, this formula is malleable. Since each movie is unique and contains its own set of challenges, you may have to adapt the structure. For example, I don’t remember exactly what happened in Endgame, but I know it was a long movie and probably had more than four sequences. And that some of those sequences were longer than 15 pages. Getting the band back together was a sequence. Figuring out time travel was a sequence. Putting the time machine together was a sequence. Going to get the stones in the past was a sequence. As long as you have characters trying to obtain an objective, you will always have a sequence to write.

Once you get to your script’s midpoint (after you’ve written the first 2 sequences of your second act), you want to introduce something that changes things around (the ‘Midpoint Shift’). This is primarily done to raise the stakes of the second half of the film, but it should also be an event that makes the second half of the film feel different from the first half. In The Force Awakens, the Midpoint Shift is when the First Order destroys an entire solar system (I’m not saying it was the greatest Midpoint Shift – but it’s an example of one).

As you move into your third and forth sequences of the second act, you will be doing the same thing you did in the first two, but with one key adjustment. You will create a growing sense that your hero is going to fail at his mission. The bad guys are getting closer. The bad guys are getting stronger. The obstacles are getting harder. The allies and friends are dying. (Kylo is killing Han). We should feel that with each passing scene, we are barreling towards certain failure. All of this will culminate in your hero failing. For good. Yes, they will either be dead or almost dead. This will signify the end of your second act, and occur somewhere between pages 85-90.

Don’t forget your flawed character. At some point in the 3rd and 4th sequences, your hero (or secondary character) will have a breakthrough in regards to their flaw. A mentor character teaches them something. Or they see someone with the same flaw suffer a terrible fate because of it. This will not be the thing that changes your hero. But it should give the reader a glimpse – however tiny – into the possibility that there’s POTENTIAL for change. In Star Wars, it’s an extremely subtle moment with Han Solo. Princess Leia snaps at him not to worry because he’ll have his money soon enough. The look on Han Solo’s face shows that, just for a moment, he sees himself for who he really is – a selfish scoundrel, and he doesn’t like it. Without this moment, it won’t make sense in the end when your character finally overcomes their flaw. Readers will complain that the change “came out of nowhere.” So include this scene!

You are now in your third act. I want you to think of your third act as similar to your second. But there will only be two sequences, each about 12 pages long, instead of the four sequences you wrote for Act 2. The first sequence of your third act is called the “Reborn Sequence.” Wesley may have been dead. But his buddies have saved him and convinced him to rescue Buttercup. It might take a couple of scenes to get your hero convinced he can take one more shot at this. But he’ll come around. He has to. He has no other choice. Once he’s ready to go, you have two scenes left in the sequence. “The Plan” – He and the team need a plan before they take on the villain! And “The Calm Before the Storm” – One last deep breath before going at it. This is often where the hero and the love interest (or best friend, or family member, or fellow soldier) share some deep final thoughts, which makes sense, since they probably aren’t getting out of this alive.

Before we get to our final battle, don’t forget about our flawed character! That character is going to complete their arc during the climax. This means you have to structure the battle in a way that challenges their flaw. So let’s say we’re still working with Buckles Under Pressure Peter. He’s our captain. The battle is going south quickly. They’re getting mauled in the air, on the ground, and in the sea. Everyone’s looking to him. What do we do next, Captain Peter? Because you’ve placed Peter in numerous pressure-filled situations throughout the script, giving him valuable experience, and because you included that one brief moment where he had that breakthrough, Peter will take a deep breath, look everyone in the eye, calmly step forward, and say, “Okay, everybody, pay attention. This is what we’re going to do.” And he comes up with an amazing plan to turn things around. By the way, if this is a secondary character who’s arcing, some writers like to place their “change” scene earlier. That way, they can keep the climax focused on the hero.

Our final sequence will be the big battle, the big game, the showdown with the bad guy, the attempt to win over the girl. The success of this scene will be determined by everything you’ve done up to this point. If your characters are great. If your story was engaging. If you created a proper sense of doubt and hopelessness as we moved towards our climax, you should, at the very least, write a good ending without even trying. To elevate your ending to something great, though, you need two things: 1) You need to surprise us with something we didn’t see coming. 2) You need to make it emotionally nuclear. Andy Dufresne escaping Shawshank was something no one saw coming. And Red getting out of prison years later and reuniting with his best friend was emotionally nuclear. “Didn’t see it coming” does not mean a “twist.” It can mean a twist. But you can give the audience something they weren’t expecting without a twist. I just don’t want everyone to think that the only way to write a great ending is with a twist.

Now go write a script!

Carson does feature screenplay consultations, TV Pilot Consultations, and logline consultations. Logline consultations go for $25 a piece or $40 for unlimited tweaking. You get a 1-10 rating, a 200-word evaluation, and a rewrite of the logline. If you’re interested in any sort of consultation package, e-mail Carsonreeves1@gmail.com with the subject line: CONSULTATION. Don’t start writing a script or sending a script out blind. Let Scriptshadow help you get it in shape first!