HOW TO PLEASE A SCREENPLAY READER: Does Size Matter--how long should narrative paragraphs be

Another issue that comes up when I’m reading scripts is the length of narrative paragraphs. Sometimes it seems to me that writers either don’t know or just don’t care or think it’s irrelevant what the length of paragraphs should be. But I suggest that by not caring, it is so easy to create a screenplay that a reader has to slog through rather than breeze through. And believe me, I’ve done more than my fair share of slogging in my time.

One way to deslog one’s script is to find user friendly lengths to the paragraphs. Most writers tell me they are taught, or read in books, that narrative paragraphs should be no more than 3 ½ to 4 lines each. However, I wish to support a more reader friendly length. Narrative paragraphs should be no more than 2 ½ lines each. The exception here would be for action scenes, which I suggest be no more than 1 ½ lines each (a column on action scenes, on which I sometimes feel my opinion to be a lone voice in the wilderness, will be covered in a future column).

My preference for 2 ½ line paragraphs (or less) is not based on anything but experience; I can‘t point to anything empirical here, just a feeling based on reading script after script for years. It’s not unusual at my peak period to read four to five a day (not that unusual for people who read for a living). And based on this, I have found that paragraphs of 2 ½ lines each are easier to read than 3 ½ or longer. And there are times when even less than this is better.

Also, having a paragraph line that ends halfway through or sooner (and no more than 2/3rds of the way through) is psychologically easier to read than a paragraph in which the last line reaches the end of the margin. It’s the same thing as something costing 99 cents coming across as way cheaper that something costing a dollar on the dot.

In addition, the number of paragraphs you have in a row or in a scene is also a pertinent factor. There is little that is more dispiriting than for a reader to turn a page and see four or more paragraphs of 3 ½ lines or longer in a row. A reader’s usual reaction here is to sigh heavily, roll their eyes, then gird their loins and start on a painful journey through a mire of slogginess.

It is thus suggested that the more paragraphs you have in a row, the shorter the paragraphs should be. It is also suggested that if you have three or more paragraphs that you vary the length, say make one 2 ½, the next 1, the next 2 lines, etc. In addition,
my experience has been that if a writer has three or more paragraphs of 3 ½ lines each, most likely the paragraphs are overly written, filled with unnecessary details, and need to be ruthlessly edited.

This is where the concept of “white space” comes in. In the end, what the author is trying to achieve with his screenplay is having as much “white space” as possible, i.e. to have more white space than words.

The easiest way to check this out is to pull up a number of pages at a time and look at them (they don’t even have to be readable here; all you need to be able to do is to see at a glance how much white space there is). I agree that this sounds arbitrary; and it is, in a way. Shouldn’t the number of words parallel what Mozart said to the Archduke when the Archduke commented that there were two many notes in an opera Mozart had written--paraphrasing, Amadeus replied, only the exact number that is needed, no more and no less?

At the same time, the more I read scripts, the more the idea of white space does seem to correspond to a screenplay that is easy breezy to read. The less white space there is, the more likely again that the narrative is being overwritten. The more white space there is, the more likely that you will have the exact number of words you need, no less and certainly no more.

There are methods one can use to help with tightening paragraphs to within an inch of their lives, thus keeping paragraphs at a user friendly length and adding to the amount of white space. But first, I want to talk about what actually goes into narrative and what doesn‘t, which is the subject of my…

NEXT COLUMN: PROUST OR HEMINGWAY

Slamdance screenplay competition deadline extended to Monday, August 1

https://withoutabox.com/03film/03t_fin/03t_fin_fest_01over.php?festival_id=7890

BACKSTAGE AT A SCREENPLAY COMPETITION QUATRE

Yet another entry in some things that go on bump in the night behind the scenes in a screenplay competition that can give some insight, maybe, who knows, into how scripts are chosen and make their way to the top.

This is my memory of something that happened during the course of a competition. I was at an office picking up scripts when one of the other readers came in. The reader was very excited about a script he had read not long ago and in fact, I had just read it. I wasn't quite as excited; I thought the script had problems.

He began his enthusiasm over the script by saying it was wonderful to finally read a script where the central character wanted something, had a clear cut goal, instead of being the more passive character that was gaining more and more popularity lately. He asked me, didn't I agree, and I replied, that when it came to passive/active characters, it all depended on the screenplay. This other reader suddnely got very upset and said basically, no, it didn't, that a screenplay with an active character was inherently superior.

For some time now, there had been a conflict arising in the screenwriting world on the idea of active versus passive central characters. Before this, ost people were telling me that books they read, courses they took, etc. said that characters had to be active. Of course, as is often the case, as soon as someone creates a rule, or codifies something, artists try to break it (and often find out that writers in the past had never paid attention to the rule in the first place). And more and more passive characters were being created. These characters became so popular, that the descriptive name had to be changed from passive to reactive as a way the earlier opponents of such characters could justify to themselves such a character's allowability.

At any rate, the reader got so tense about my statement, that the contest coordinator interfered and calmed the waters. I was taken aback by what seemed at the time to be a rather dogmatic reaction to what seemed to me to be an innocous statement.

In the end, this screenplay didn't make the top lists mainly because it's structure was sort of the traditional kind that authors who read books and takes courses write. It didn't take any real chances and it had a final third that sort of fell apart. It was one of these scripts that tended to be written according to a set of rules rather than from a vision on the part of the author. And the scripts that did make the top of the list were, more often than not, scripts that were trying new things, experimenting with structure and form, unusual in style, had a certain edge, were trying to do something different and challenging.

Of course, screenplay competitions vary and different contests have different tastes and slants. But I'm all for the ones that encourage one to be different.

BACKSTAGE AT A SCREENPLAY CONTEST TROIS: Still more tales from behind the scenes

At an awards get together once for a contest, I was approached by a writer whose script I thought was very good and a script that I thought should have made the finals, but didn't because other readers didn't agree with me. The author did make the list just before finals, which is a pretty good place to end up considering the number of entries. But he asked me if there was a reason he didn't make the top ten.

Usually there is a very definite reason, though one doesn't want to necessarily tell a person that. But often there really isn't a good, solid reason why. Often when a script gets so close to the top, but doesn't make it, it's almost impossible to say why. And that's what I told him. That at that point there really was no reason one could give for it happening. For his script, there were all sorts of factors (some of which I didn't know or understand) that happened to happen to stop him from crossing that last barrier.

In relation to this, I've been asked before whether someone should reenter the same contest. It actually happens a lot, authors reentering their scripts. Probably for three reasons, the first being that they don't keep good records and forgot that they already entered the contest with this particular script the previous year. A second is that they hope that this time around they'll be read by a different reader or sets of readers who might like the script better and thereby make it further than before.

The third reason is that they have substantially rewritten the script. This is actually the only good reason for reentering the same script in a contest. And I've known scripts that have done better because of it.

But when it comes to entering the exact same script hoping to do better, I suggest it's not a wise idea. True, if one didn't even make the lowest group of say, quarter finalists (or whatever they call the first cut), then it is possible you might do a bit better if one gets a different reader. But beyond that, it's unlikely the script will go any farther, if for no other reason than the script will hit the same reader or readers as before (contests tend to use many of the same readers year after year) and they will recognize the script and will probably have the same reaction to it.

In addition, if one made the next to last cut, yes, it is possible that another go round just might get you into that top ten. But what I told the person is that the likelihood of the stars being in a slightly different alignment that year is so unlikely that the person should reconsider spending the enormous amount of money (and screenplay competitions are expensive) to enter. It would make much more sense to just enter a different contest.

BACKSTAGE AT A CONTEST: INSIGHT AS TO HOW SCREENPLAYS ARE CHOSEN FOR A TOP 20 LIST

One of the things I do for a living (let's face it, until I sell that screenplay for a million dollars, it is the only thing I do for a living) is do coverage, script consultation and read scripts for contests. I actually really like doing it because, at the risk of sounding incredibly egotistical and near sociopathic, I am incredibly good at it. It's not unusual for my first reads to make it to the top ten (when I started at Slamdance, the first four years in a row one of my first reads was chosen first place--even if I didn't vote for it).

I thought I might write about something that happened at the end of a contest once upon a time when the quarter finalists and finalists were being decided, something that might shed some light on how the process works. This time the process was a bit more interesting than before because the person who ran it had me do something she hadn't had me do before. She asked me to pick my top twenty. This meant I had to reduce a list of 35 that I recommended for a further read (not just my first reads, but also second and third reads) to twenty. Now, of course, some of the choices were easy (in fact, I think she and I agreed on what was the obvious best script, though I could be wrong). But after choosing the obvious ones, it became more and more painful to winnow it down to 20.

But I did it. Since this was the first time I did this for this contest, I was actually kind of panicked. How many of my choices would the head of the contest agree with or would she think, "this guy is really full of shit if he thinks he knows a good script from a bad one". In other words, would this list confirm that I knew what I was talking about, or would it show me to be a fraud?

Add to this that I didn't know which of my first reads got a second and then third read, which meant I could be putting scripts on my top twenty that I liked, but others thought were the product of the mentally ill off spring of a brother and sister, scripts which might have been dumped weeks before.

Then, after submitting my list, I got an e-mail back and she asked why three particular scripts didn't make my top ten. And I didn't know what to say and I panicked, of course. I did like all three scripts, but one can't put everything on a top twenty. But what could I say? I did respond with my reasons (I thought one incredibly well written, but too formulaic, etc.) and she was very supportive of my reasonings (though not in full agreement).

However, something interesting did happen here that might give insight into the decision making process. Out of the top 35, there were eight that I considered to be somewhat similar in tone and style, what I call small, independent films. These are actually my favorite types of films. However, I wasn't about to have eight of the same type of films on my top twenty list, so I ended up with only four of them on the list. Two of the three she had e-mailed about had ended up on the cutting room floor for the reason (though not completely, I did have some problems with them that also made me leave them out) that they were too similar to some other scripts.

When I told a friend this, he asked me, "But aren't you suppose to chose the best script no matter the genre, niche or style, etc.". Yes and no. What I told him is that it is like the choosing of Sonia Sotomayor--at some point there is no such thing as the best. There gets a point where there are a bunch of equals. So what do you do then? Well, you bring other elements into the decision making process, like not wanting to have two time travel movies in the top ten even if both are extremely well written.

She then asked me to something even more nightmarish: winnow my top twenty down to a top seven. This was so painful. But it had to be done. The interesting part of this was that she e-mailed me and asked why I included one particular one; she thought it very flawed. It was a second read on my part, so it wasn't like I was the first person to like it, but again, I had to explain my reasoning. Though one of the things I said, among others, was that it could be that it was just one of those scripts that effects one strongly and one may never be able to rationally explain why. And all readers have those (it can lead to some very interesting discussions/arguments at decision making times).

What was also interesting here is that of the seven (actually nine because I mentioned two more that I said were so difficult to remove, but I did because again, I felt they were too similar in style to another one in the top seven--the three were all high concept films), none were my first reads. This particular year was perhaps one of the only times where, though I liked many of my first reads, they didn't excite me as much as other people's first reads. In fact, I was getting frustrated at times wondering why everybody else was getting all the good scripts (but it happens; scripts are assigned randomly and there has to be a year where others are going to get all the good ones).

But it didn't stop there. All nine of the ones I chose here were going to be in the top 20. Now I had to chose two from my list that weren't in the top nine, two that I wanted to fight for in order to help fill out the top 20 list. That was also very hard, but I chose two comedies that didn't cross over to other genres, one because I did like them very much, but two, because I thought I hadn't recommended enough pure comedies.

So I don't know if this gives people who enter contests any more of an insight as to how some decisions are made, but I thought it might be something worthwhile letting people in on.

Slamdance Screenplay/Teleplay Competitions Call For Submissions

From the Slamdance website:

Writing Competitions Launch:

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After the festival, we turn our attention to Slamdance's Writing Department: 2009's Writing Competitions have already kicked off with fantastic prizes and sponsors. The Short Screenplay Competition's final deadline is just around the corner (February 9, 2009), so hurry up with those submissions: the Grand Prize Winner walks away with $500.00.

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And wait … there's more! One of top five finalists will be selected and produced as a part of Slamdance's $99 Special Competition and screen at the 2010 Festival! Check out previous Slamdance $99 Specials here.

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The Teleplay Competition Call For Entries has also launched: The scripted portion is sponsored by Act III Productions and the unscripted portion is sponsored by the Greif Company: early deadline is February 17, 2009. Save some money and get those original ideas in ASAP - we want to read them and connect you with companies who want to produce your ideas. Step to it now!

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Feature Screenplay Call For Entries opens in March 2009 and is sponsored by Upload Films with a $7,000 Grand Prize Award. Upload Films recently signed an option agreement with our 2008 Screenplay winner Neil McGowan (NUMBERED).

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The Slamdance Horror Screenplay Competition begins in June 2009 and the winner walks with $5,000 as well as a possible option agreement. And regardless of genre or length, if you have a script and you want some constructive feedback from our expert team, check out our year round coverage service.