Consider what interests you most? Production, marketing, screenwriting, the business side of the industry?
Find a panelist or a MultiVisions committee member and ask about opportunities in your area of interest. Ask what steps you can take while you're still at IU, to get where you want to go.
2 pages, double-spaced. DUE: Tuesday, April 21st.
note: Use teamwork for the activity. Your essay is a solo effort.
Author K. H. Brower shares her work:
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Arguments of Conviction
Dramatic stories revolve around conflict, and I've heard that conflict defined as a moral argument. I don't like the word "moral" because it seems to imply right and wrong choices, and the most interesting stories include tough choices that aren't easily made.
Even a straight up action-adventure, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade gives the hero an impossible choice. Should Indy save his father's life by retrieving the Grail, or should he refuse to help the Nazis recover the Grail? For as the story has clearly laid out for us, when Henry lies mortally wounded the only thing that can save him is a drink from the holy cup. However, we also know that the Grail must not fall into evil hands.
What I love about this story is more than this one brilliantly crafted moment that puts the hero in that impossibly prickly place. My friend Jim Fisher calls this "the horns of the dilemma." I love the thorough way writer Jeff Boam marinated the screenplay with arguments of conviction. Yesterday I counted a dozen places where characters argue over the significance of the Grail artifact, the object of the quest. (That's a lot of dialog story events between all the chase scenes! And it's likely I missed some.)
The quest begins with Indy clearly saying he doesn't care about the Grail, only in rescuing his missing father (who not coincidentally disappeared while seeking the location of the Grail). In the following scene Indy asks, "Do you believe the Grail actually exists?" Brody, his intellectual colleague answers, "The search for the Cup of Christ is the search for the divine in all of us." Brody doesn't claim to know if it exists beyond its metaphorical sense, but he clearly gives room for faith in the possibility of a physical cup.
Across Europe Indy argues with Henry about the importance of the finding the Grail first. Henry insists their search is more than archeology, "It's a race against evil." And he means it cannot fall into Nazi hands. Indy argues with Elsa, beautiful archeologist-turned traitor, that she's aligned herself with the Swastika, implying that he also now believes that the Cup is more than a coveted archeological artifact.
Even side characters argue with conviction. The bad guy who is financing the Nazi quest for the cup wants eternal life and sees Hitler as a convenient, silent partner in his pursuit for eternal youth. Brody--captured for the map that leads to the secret temple where they find the Grail--warns against, "You are meddling with powers you cannot possibly comprehend." Vigilantes from a brotherhood sworn to protecting the Grail, die to protect the temple from the Nazi's approach.
These are the arguments that lead up to the final confrontation inside the temple. The big bad "Nazi stooge" wants everlasting life, yet Indy's been convinced by his father and others that the Grail deserves his protection. Yet, darn those prickly horns, Indy and Henry have finally begun to mend their estranged relationship. He needs more time to enjoy his father. Indy has to save Henry! Can he do it AND keep the Grail from the "unrighteous."
Number IV's due out this summer. Hope it's got the resonance of I & III and is also marinated in theme, laced with arguments of conviction.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Hibernation
I've been hibernating. Along the way I've kept attention on Green Tara. The best I can do here at the blog is to report my progress.
Today I printed out through page 95 of 159 on this rewrite. (I print when I'm done with the polish.) This last scene was tough for me. Not bad tough. It was a lot of new material, late reveal exposition that I realized is essential for truly engaging with the last half of the adventure.
My tendency is to shy away from a big information dump, but at this point in the story everyone--my audience, as well as the characters--needs to be "sold" on signing up for the rest of the mission.
The ice is finally melting.
Today I printed out through page 95 of 159 on this rewrite. (I print when I'm done with the polish.) This last scene was tough for me. Not bad tough. It was a lot of new material, late reveal exposition that I realized is essential for truly engaging with the last half of the adventure.
My tendency is to shy away from a big information dump, but at this point in the story everyone--my audience, as well as the characters--needs to be "sold" on signing up for the rest of the mission.
The ice is finally melting.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Wisdom from Jim Fisher
Monday Jim Fisher visited my class and lead a workshop in which we developed a couple of story ideas. Both students already had concepts, but one of Jim's gifts is to marry dramatic structure to a crisis of choice for the main character. In class we brainstormed what that crisis would be for each of the stories and what elements would be in place to bring the characters to that terrible place. Both students left with juicier stories.
Here's the essence of what Jim, an alumn of Second City and a working writer with numerous credits for both film and television, taught us:
Understand that if we give a fictional character an easy choice, we get: Who cares? But give a fictional character an impossible choice, say between rescuing her mother and saving the Earth, and we get some heat.
About three-quarters of the way through a story--the Act II climax, a.k.a. the Central Ordeal, a.k.a. Plot Point II, for those who like to locate a turning point in dramaturgy terms--Jim says put the hero in a situation that's "the exact opposite of where the character wants to be. . . . on the horns of the dilemma."
Thanks, Jim, for serving as my muse.
Here's the essence of what Jim, an alumn of Second City and a working writer with numerous credits for both film and television, taught us:
Understand that if we give a fictional character an easy choice, we get: Who cares? But give a fictional character an impossible choice, say between rescuing her mother and saving the Earth, and we get some heat.
About three-quarters of the way through a story--the Act II climax, a.k.a. the Central Ordeal, a.k.a. Plot Point II, for those who like to locate a turning point in dramaturgy terms--Jim says put the hero in a situation that's "the exact opposite of where the character wants to be. . . . on the horns of the dilemma."
Thanks, Jim, for serving as my muse.
Labels:
character,
process,
story development,
the muse
Friday, February 8, 2008
Happy New Year
In honor of the Chinese and Tibetan New Year, the year of the rat, I offer inspiration from another artist. This is a quote from a letter written in 1810 by Ludwig van Beethoven:
"Art! Who comprehends her? With whom can one consult concerning this great goddess?"So when we're feeling bemused and bewildered by our creative efforts, we can take comfort in knowing that we're in good company. It's a great year.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
The Explaining Tendency
In the context of storytelling I liken "explaining" to the human tendency of "complaining." In other words it's a bad habit.
Allow me to explain. (HA! Caught me, didn't you?) But this is a brief expository essay, not a story.)
Last week my class played the What's in the bag? game. Briefly, the goal is to write an original scene and in it conceal an object, allowing the secret to generate excitement and momentum. (See 9/2/07 for a fuller description.) I had everyone break up into writing teams of three. What I observed was all but one team revealed what was in the bag by the end of the scene. Which meant end of interest, end of story. So we ended up with a lot of blackout scenes that led no where, because most fell into the sand trap of the desire to explain.
Notice that explaining is qualitatively different than describing. The latter is an integral part of our craft. I've noticed in my own work my tendency to under-describe the details of the action and the physical world. I may have a vivid picture in my mind's eye, but neglect getting that picture on the page so that readers can share it with me.
Which leads me to the confession that in the last two weeks all the rewriting I've done on Green Tara has been focused on expanding descriptions. I'm talking an added twelve pages out of what is now 150 and I'm only 20% into the story. At this rate I'll add another fifty pages to my young adult novel! Though I'm not sure it will follow, because it's in the beginning of a story that the reader needs enough detail to fully picture the story world.
I'll report soon, and forgive me for taking so long between posts. My attention has been very much on my novel rewrite and how to fully describe without falling into the sand trap of explaining.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Recharged and Ready
Last night I went to a rollicking BLIZZARD of super short plays at the Bloomington Playwrights Project. There were so many titles performed by a company of artists that I lost track of names and numbers. Some made me laugh, some made me think, some left me bewildered (as in, what was that supposed to be about?). In short, I got a solid dose of variety. At least twenty different authors put out a little bit of themselves and shared their creative vibe with me.
And I feel nourished! Ready to tackle the next outline. Ready to write the next scene filled with dreaded feelings of betrayal.
Thank you for your generosity, B.P.P. and the Blizzardites. I extend that thanks to every artist who has ever given something of his or herself to the world.
Labels:
nurturing the artist's soul,
playtime,
refueling,
the muse
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