There’s no single way to develop an idea. We all work differently, depending on our individual preferences and industry circumstances, and so our approach to developing a screenplay will be individual – and it might change from project to project. This can be both an advantage and a disadvantage. On the one hand, who wants to work in the same way as everyone else? Who wants to follow strictures and be told how to do things? Some of us prefer to work on structure first, and then character – and only theme at the very end. Some of us prefer to start with theme, and from that let characters develop, and only structure at the very end. Whilst some of us work within formal parameters – chronologically, linearly – some of us work in layers, to keep digging deeper and discovering.
On the other hand, who wants to jeopardise their chances of getting a screenplay read – or made – because they haven’t yet worked up something that a producer or director wants – outline, treatment, character profiles, first draft, etc? Some of us prefer to knock out a first draft as quickly as possible, so there’s something concrete to work on and use as a sample should the opportunity arise. Some of us prefer to nail the structure first, spending a long time developing a treatment or step outline so that we’re confident the story’s going to work. The actual screenplay can come later.
But what if a producer or director wants to see an extensive treatment first, and you haven’t got one? Or if they want to read the screenplay first, to get a sense of your voice, but you haven’t started it? It can be a tricky predicament to be in. Sometimes you might be able to convince them that what you’ve got is appropriate; other times you might need to find out what they’re likely to want before you start developing. If you’re going to enter competitions then at least the guidelines are set – they want a five-page treatment and a one-page synopsis, for example – but even then, if you’re lucky enough to get to the next stage, they might want something else from you that you might or might not have got.
Although aimed at people working in advertising, I find Nik Mahon’s Basics Advertising 03: Ideation (2011) extremely useful for teaching people how to develop creative ideas. Some of the processes a screenwriter goes through are much the same as an advertiser coming up with a new campaign – or in fact anyone working in creative development. The basic premise is this – open yourself up to possibilities. If you approach with a closed mind, thinking that your idea’s already perfect, then it’s possible your screenplay’s going to be fairly unoriginal and uninspiring. If, instead, you allow your imagination to roam free, and for ideas to grow and die, it’s more likely that you’ll end up with a more original and refreshing screenplay. This was the premise behind Zara Waldeback and I writing The Creative Screenwriter, in fact – a plea for screenwriters to embrace creativity during the development process, so as not to lock in ideas too early.
Mahon talks about divergent and convergent thinking as a way of starting to embrace creativity in the development process. Here’s a summary, which I’ve related to screenwriting:
He also talks about the process of ideation, and how, as a creative, you go through four key stages when developing an idea – preparation (brainstorming, fact finding, sampling), incubation (gestating, relaxing, reflecting), illumination (realising, capturing, producing) and verification (evaluating, critiquing, re-working). I’ve taken these steps as the basis for what I’m calling the 5 Ps process – steps for a screenwriter to develop their idea:
Think about the last screenplay that you wrote – or the one you’re currently writing – and write down specific details about how you developed the idea. Try to remember as much as you can – no matter how small. Then assign each thing from your list to one of the 5 Ps above. When you’ve assigned them all, see which ‘P’ has the most. Are there any glaring gaps or imbalances? What does this tell you about your development process?
Zara Waldeback, a Swedish-based writer and director of short dramas and features, and co-author of Writing for the Screen: Creative and Critical Approaches and The Creative Screenwriter: Exercises to Expand Your Craft, has this to say:
Welcoming the unexpected
Hopefully we set out with some sort of plan when writing a screenplay. This is a very good idea, as structure, intention and focus are a big part of creating a strong and successful story. But it’s never the whole story. Whether you like it or not, there’s always a degree of mystery involved when writing – or directing – a film. Something will happen that’s unexpected, maybe wildly so – a character suddenly reveals another side, the plot takes a different turn, a world falls away and is replaced, you realise you really want to write about something else, etc. What do you do?
Sometimes you have to say ‘no, thanks, this isn’t for this story’ because, even though it’s a good idea, it doesn’t fit and would change the script too much. But often it’s useful to open the door to the unexpected and see what it has to tell you. For me, writing is a delight and a joy because it’s so much about exploring the unknown. I never feel I make up a story completely, but rather that the story reveals itself to me if I listen to it and pay attention. When unexpected moments come along, I try to walk along with them for a while to see where they will lead me – then I’ll decide if it’s the right path or not.
When I write, I don’t always want to stay in control. I want to allow the story to push and pull me, blow me like the wind into far-flung territories where I might get a bit nervous or scared – how will I get out of here? At the same time, when I re-write or edit or analyse a draft, I do want to have control – I want to know what it is I’m trying to write, how and if it’s being expressed, how to improve it. For me, writing is a dance between allowing myself to be free with the story so it transports me to strange and wondrous places, and coming back home with little gems that I sort through to see where they fit. Then I go out on another adventure, come home and sort through, etc. This process means I’m open to things I’ve not thought of, and these can be places where magic happens. Without that, I think the story could be dry and half-dead – neatly laid out and perfectly manicured – but not vibrating with life. Writing screenplays is about touching someone, making an impact, creating a reaction. It’s not about staying small, playing it safe.
A small story to illustrate my point, which shows that welcoming the unexpected is just as important when it comes to directing films as it is when you’re writing them. When I directed my first big-budget short film, I’d done weeks of planning and preparation. I’d gone through every word of the script – created a myriad of questions, ideas, suggestions, motivations, possibilities. I had a thick notebook full of ideas about how to direct scenes, moments and meetings. Then, on the first day of the week-long shoot, I lost it – my precious notebook with all my brilliant ideas, gone! I had no choice but to plough on without it. It forced me to stay in the moment, pay attention to what was happening in front of me, and not hang on to what I’d planned in my head. When the shoot ended and we were tidying up the van, I found the book nestled behind some cushions in the seating area. It had been there all along. I realised then that, if I’d had my notebook with me, I would’ve been glued to it instead of being present with the story unfolding in front of me.
But – and here’s the crucial part – if I’d not done all that careful, thoughtful preparation beforehand, I wouldn’t have been able to work spontaneously in such a successful, confident and informed way. I’d done my homework and given myself the tools I needed to travel well in the unknown. I realised that, when telling stories, I can’t hold on only to what I know – I have to go further. But I don’t do so unprepared or unequipped – I do all I can so I’m clear and focused and ready. And it’s then that I know I’ll be able to enjoy and delight in welcoming the unexpected – and let my stories come fully alive.
© Zara Waldeback, 2012
As you develop your screenplay, you might want to try working with one or more development documents. They can help you to thrash out your idea in full, find narrative focus, experiment with structure, test out character arcs, clarify theme – and much more. There’s sometimes an overlap between a development document and a selling document – such as a treatment – but in this chapter I’m going to focus on the ones that mainly help you to work on your screenplay, not sell it. Selling documents will be discussed in Chapter 12.
Before I go into detail about some of the documents used in development, it’s worth reiterating that there’s no one-size-fits-all. Although there are common principles that most people abide by, you might find different nuances between producers, directors, script developers, competitions, funding schemes, etc. Some of these can be very minor – such as layout and font – but some can be bigger, such as level of detail and style of language. What I’ll be discussing here are the most common principles found in development documents.
Whichever document you want to work with, it should try and do the following:
It’s also useful to keep track of the development of both the protagonist’s physical journey and emotional journey – see Chapter 6 for more detail on this. Or, to put it another way, keep reminding yourself of the Central Dramatic Question (CDQ) – what happens? – and the Central Thematic Question (CTQ) – why should we care? By doing this, you’ll not lose sight of why you’re telling the story, and you’ll know what the structure’s supposed to be achieving.
You might first want to develop a sequence outline. This is a short document – usually only a couple of pages – that gives a condensed overview of the complete story broken down into its key sequences, which is usually eight – again, see Chapter 6 for more detail on this. You construct the sequence outline by describing each sequence in a short paragraph, considering its beginning, middle and end. In other words, you’re summarising each sequence as if it’s a short film in itself, with its own three-act structure. You might occasionally be asked for a sequence outline, but usually it’s only a working document for you. You can also construct the sequence outline by referring to other structural models, such as Christopher Vogler’s 12-step Hero’s Journey. What the sequence outline does is give you a clear sense of the key plot points in your screenplay, and how they play out, one after the other.
For some screenwriters, the next task is to write a step outline, sometimes also known as a scene-by-scene. This is a fairly bare-bones document, which can be short or actually quite long, and which maps out the story in separate units or scenes. It gives brief descriptions of each step of the story – usually only a couple of sentences – telling only its major action and/or emotion (physical journey and emotional journey). A step outline allows you to see the map of the screenplay and work out where the key turning points are. Because they’re usually written in the same font as a screenplay – complete with scene headings – some screenwriters actually build their screenplay from the step outline. This can make the development process coherent and feel integrated (idea with screenplay). Another way of mapping out the steps of your story is by using index cards. Again, you just write a couple of sentences about each step – one card per step – and then you can shuffle them around to play with the structure.
The other big development document – that can be, and often is, used for pitching – is the treatment. This is a longer document that tells the complete story in fulsome, polished prose. It’s a longer version of the outline (see Chapter 12), giving much more attention to detail. In fact, it’s much like a short-story version of the screenplay. A treatment can range from anything between 5 and 35 pages – it all depends on what the writer needs and, if using it to sell the screenplay, what the producer (or other) wants. A treatment is written in the present tense, the action playing out for the reader. It should be broken down into short, concise paragraphs, and the language should be considered carefully to give a texture, flavour and tone that in some way mirrors what would be the experience of seeing the film. If it’s a comedy, make it funny. If it’s a thriller, make it thrilling. Key snatches of dialogue may be included, if necessary – a key phrase or line, for example; otherwise it’s normal for a treatment to be written purely in prose.
Have a go at writing one of the above development documents for someone else’s screenplay. It might be someone that you know, or it might be a produced film. It doesn’t matter which – the idea is for you to start thinking analytically about how a screenplay works by summarising it. Don’t worry if you can’t capture all the details – broad brushstrokes is fine. Just make sure that you write in the style of the document you’ve chosen – as detailed above – and that you start to understand the story more clearly by writing it out.
How – and with whom – you work on these development documents depends on your position in the industry and your writing habits. If you’ve got a commission, then a producer or script editor might want to see these documents at various stages, giving you feedback and helping you to hone them. If you’re using them as part of a competition, or a funding or mentoring scheme, then it’s likely that you’ll be asked for a shorter one in the first instance, so the assessors can get a flavour of your idea. Then, through progressive development, you might be asked for a bigger one, until you’re ready to write a draft of the screenplay.
If you’re working alone, with a writing partner, or in a writing circle, you might be less formal about what you construct, seeing it as more of a prompt than an official document that has ramifications for other people. Either way, development documents can be really useful for taking a step back from your screenplay and understanding – or trying to work out – what’s going on. If you’re stuck on something, such as a flawed structure or a two-dimensional character, chances are that working on a development document will help you. Sometimes they’re a hard slog to write, and they take you away from the fun of writing the actual screenplay – but when done well, they’re certainly worth the effort.