Rhythm, Asides and Finding Your Voice: Format Nazis Can Shove it Where the Sun Don’t Shine

Ready to digest an immutable Fact of Life? Here’s one tasty treat: 

The world of screenwriting bursts with vibrant contradiction.  Downright Schizophrenic levels of it, no less.

Talk to anyone who’s dipped their toe in the murky waters of film.  They’ll scramble to tell you what lurks just below the surface… Sharks, of the Format Nazi kind.

Hand to heart. We’ll swear on our latest copy of Final Draft; it’s true. The screenwriting world is full of BS.  Excuse me, make that “rules.”

Don’t get me wrong (or quote this out of context).  Many such rules make sense.  For instance, streamlining description’s essential. You’re writing a script, not a Tolkien novel. We hope.

Show it, Don’t Tell It.

Write every verb in present tense.

Avoid adverbs, and mix up your nouns. 

Use your vocabulary to its fullest extent.

There’s gooey loads of truth in such homilies.  Almost every newbie overwrites.  Others pile in exposition by the truck-load.  Yet more utilize “is” far too often… to the point where readers slip into a coma and die.

Yes, “rules are rules.” And most have been created for good reason.

But rules are also made to be broken. Once one realizes – and respects – the purpose they were created for, that is.

Persevere with screenwriting long enough, and you’ll be clubbed with that contradiction every day. 

Imagine this scenario, Dear Reader:

You toil on a script day and night; rewriting and reworking every scene.  After ten too many coffees, the slugs are perfect. And you have to pee. All the typos are gone… so you think.  And not a single screenwriting rule is broken. Beaming with pride, you mail it to an agency that accepts solicitations (good luck there.)

The main criticism you get back?

That they can’t detect your “writer’s voice.”

What’s a writer’s voice?  AHHH – we’re all so happy you asked!

There’s a je ne sais qua* that makes a script stand out – even when surrounded by a wall of Blake Snyder clones.

Developing one’s writer’s voice is the difference between an accountant droning on about a story he once heard, vs. Robin Williams (RIP) addressing a crowd. 

Sure, building on a terrific premise is essential.  But “writer’s voice” is the color imbued into the words which service it, causing them to leap right off the page.  No matter the genre or the plot, that’s what makes narratives crackle and pop.

To pull off such literary wonders, a writer needs to know their art. Including how and when to break the rules.

Wanna grab the reader by the throat?  Write succinctly, surgically – but visually and poetically, as well.  Reserved for the best moments in your story, metaphors can be pure magic.  How the “shadows of the night” look in a specific scene may not be a life and death detail… but used artfully, it damned well paints the mood. 

Pack asides in your toolkit, too. Even if “Show it, Don’t Tell It” has been rudely jammed into your skull.

Applied in just the right places, an aside really makes a beat stand out.  No, don’t wax eloquent about your character’s humiliation in Fifth Grade.  But when a monster jump scares him so thoroughly he pukes – winking directly at your audience can make that beat sing, opera style.

Yes, character growth and clear writing’s important.  Theme and high-concepts are as well.

Still, the composition and structure of sentences should never be ignored. Whether it’s public speaking or writing, storytellers should take this advice to heart: There is poetic rhythm to even the most mundane sentences – similar to lyrics in a song. 

When writing, pick out a description’s ebb and flow and roll with it.  Paint mood and visuals richly – with carefully chosen, sculpted, air-tight words.

If you want a script to have character, these are skills one has to learn.  Sure, you’ll piss off tons of Format Nazis. But building your brand’s worth it. 

And finding your Writer’s Voice? Absolutely Priceless.

_{*It’s a French term, Dammit. Go look it up.}