How do we simplify with so much information?

One of the primary goals of my teaching is to simplify the art and craft of screenwriting.

This is a tall task given everything we have access to.

Have you SEEN how many books are available on screenwriting? There are even more academic books meant for higher education.

The vocabulary, the theories, the minutiae.

How can we possibly keep our minds clean to write?

To be honest, you can't. It's too much for anyone!

The things you need to know must be:

1. A principle that HELPS you simplify
2. Simple enough that it can exist in your conscious mind without taking up space
3. A learned skill — capable of being performed without consciously thinking after enough repetition

The third is the most difficult to recognize and where most of what we perceive as talent lies.

This knowledge becomes essentially muscle memory, which is the primary benefit of experience. We move what was once conscious to the unconscious, creating room for the more vital.

More knowledge isn't always better knowledge.

And more thinking isn't always better thinking.

I have known too many writers who get a note, read a new screenwriting book, take a course, or encounter a blog post and assume the author of that material knows more than they do.

Maybe it's true, maybe it isn't.

Either way, the screenwriter feels compelled to implement this new knowledge only to tie themselves and their screenplay up in knots while doing so.

They do this not because they want to, but because they think they're supposed to.

Frustration sets in, and they blame themselves, thinking maybe they just "don't get it."

There is a way to avoid this. With any new information we receive, we must ask:

Does it help us tell our story better?

This is the only thing that matters. This is one of the many reasons confidence is so important, because the lack of confidence leaves us unable to answer this simple question:

Does this knowledge help us tell our story?

Are we trying to fix things that aren't broken? Are we trying to fix something the wrong way? Are we chasing after notes, something that will never stop coming?

It is very possible that something might work in one story and not another.

Notes should feel right.

You should feel it in your gut that it helps you tell your story better.

This includes anything you read from me.

There are times, of course, when laziness and obstinance will pretend to be integrity. At least this was true for me for many years. This was not to my advantage.

So make sure that's not the case.

If it still feels wrong after that, then it's just not for you. Ignore it.

Unfortunately, a confused and unsure mind is incapable of fighting off bad notes.

Even worse, early in our screenwriting...

We are usually the ones giving ourselves the bad notes.

We are thinking too much. We can't make decisions. What decisions we do make come from fear rather than confidence.

We're convinced we're doing it wrong.

We think we need more when we don't. We just can't stop fiddling, even though we don't really know what we want.

The solution is to simplify.

Remove the clutter that is undermining our thinking and our writing.

5 ways to simplify our writing.

Needless to say, this is not all-encompassing, but it's a start.

1. Focus on what you want to achieve, not what you wish to avoid.

Knowing what you don't want may feel like a decision, but it isn't.

It doesn't actually help you achieve anything and can often close off options before you even realize it.

So, you don't want them to "get together at the end." Okay. But if you don't know what story you're telling, how exactly do you know that?

Because either the story you want to tell wants that ending, or it doesn't. Knowing what you don't want is a YOU problem, not a story problem.

Focus on what you DO want. What story are you telling?

What is this scene about? What emotion are you trying to evoke?

If you focus on what you are trying to achieve, you can debate, brainstorm, and problem-solve rather than cut off options.

2. More plot will not save you.

The audience is not asking for more plot. They want more emotion.

Additional plot inserted to "fix" plot issues doesn't fix anything. It just creates more plot issues.

Plot that does not set up or pay off an emotional reaction weighs your story down rather than adding value.

When we get stuck, we are tempted to add plot hoping it will fix something. Fight this urge.

Before you add more plot to your story in the hopes it will make it better, ask yourself if you have fully explored the emotional effects of the plot you already have.

Add plot only when you know how and why it adds value.

3. Focus on what needs to happen.

When you are writing, you are either telling a story or trying to find the story. If you're trying to find the story, you will have a whole lot of rewriting to do once you do.

You can avoid all that by knowing what story you're telling and telling it.

When you know where you're going, you get to ask, "What needs to happen?" rather than, "What can happen?"

Not only is the former much more productive, but it's also much more fun. You get to eliminate much of the clutter and focus on what pushes your story forward.

Break it up into smaller steps, and it gets even easier. What needs to happen to get from A to B? And then B to C? C to D? And so on.

4. Focus on one thing at a time.

You must choose the one thing that is important in any given time frame.

• What is the moment about?
• What is the beat about?
• What is the scene about?

Then make sure that is your focus.

Yes, you can add layers underneath, but trying to make a scene about more than one thing leaves a less compelling scene.

You'll sense the problem, and you will think it's you. You'll think you just don't have the skill to make it work.

But you set yourself up by not making a clear decision.

There is an expression in football: "If you think you have two starting quarterbacks, it means you don't have one."

Make a choice. If one isn't clearly the right choice, maybe cut both of them.

5. Break down film structures.

This remains the single greatest activity I ever did to make screenwriting less intimidating.

When I first decided to pursue screenwriting, I would log the structure of every movie I could.

Do this yourself. Grab a favorite movie and do this as you watch it again.

Write down the time code on the left and the scene on the right.

Identify the inciting incident, the Act One break, the midpoint, Act Two, Act Three, etc. Label these things.

Take special note of the film's sequences. See how long great scenes and sequences take.

See the protagonist's clear line of action. How their BIG want drives the story, and their more local wants drive sequences and scenes.

Most of all, see how simple the plots really are.

Any big shift in the plot is explored BEFORE any additional plot is added.

You will never regret getting good at identifying another movie's story structure.

Plots seem complicated when you're in the moment, but when you lay them out scene by scene, it's clear how simple they really are.

Learn to get out of your own way.

The more complicated the process, the more it hampers our ability to be decisive and perform the most basic function of what we do: make choices.

This is a natural human tendency when faced with challenges. When we think something is more complicated than it is, we devise a complicated solution for it.

Complicated solutions usually work around the problem rather than solve it.

Which complicates the process further.

The single best way I have found to fight this off is to make big decisions up front and allow those decisions to narrow down our options later.

By narrowing those options, we are liberating ourselves to focus on what truly matters: the story we're trying to tell and the emotion we are trying to evoke.

Want to dig deeper?

Want to dive deeper into how to simplify structure and make it work for you? When you’re ready, your next class with me is my flagship course Mastering Structure.

That's a wrap for this week!

Thank you for all the kind words last week. You have no idea how much it meant to me. I do read every single email, and I do try to reply to each one.

My very first agent was one of the last assistants off Michael Ovitz's desk. He was trained to return a phone call within 24 hours. He was adamant about it.

That's my eventual goal with emails. I'm getting there!

I am excited about all I have planned for us this year. And there is a whole lot to update you one.

Maybe we can get into it next week.

See you then!

Tom