admin

I had mounting concerns about the western I was writing a screenplay for. I was still in the early stages of act two, and I felt that the sequences were starting to get repetitive. What was more, I could foresee some of the repetition occurring later in the screenplay as well.

On top of that, I found that most of the sequences I was writing had run long. And by that, I mean that I think the sequences I’d been writing were going long. With my own – very unique – method of writing the first draft of the Western, I actually didn’t know how many actual script pages each of the sequences were taking. For all I knew, I was actually well within a reasonable number of pages for how far I had gotten in the story.

But that didn’t shake the feeling that I was running longer than where I should have been. I was convinced that if I transcribed what I’d already written into script format that I would see that I already had about 45 to 50 pages.

And that was a problem, because that was half of the pages I was shooting for for this script, because when I looked ahead to what I had planned, even if I was halfway through the story, the sequences in the latter half were supposed to be even grander than what I’d established so far. While this was still the first draft, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t in a good place, and carrying that mindset with me through the rest of the draft wasn’t going to be good for the end product.

On top of that, the questions that I had going into the start of the draft, mainly about the main character’s motivations, still weren’t any clearer, even after getting deep into the story.

I took a step back to assess where I was at in the writing process. I felt I had once again outlined a scope much grander than the medium I was trying to write in. This felt like something I would have to fit into a 120 page script, possibly even cramming it in to do so, and that was much longer than what I felt I needed to submit as someone considered to be a first time screenwriter looking to get a script optioned for the first time.

As much as I loved this story, I felt that for the time being, it was time to move on until I could some up with the right way to tell it.

I was still working through the early stages of act two of my new script when things started to really grow concerning. The start of the act was already eleven of my handwritten pages, and while this is nowhere close to an actual page of a script, it set up the another pressure cooker situation for Barclay. This should have been great for the script, but was problematic for me.

To explain this, I need to give some context.

Barclay had been in one pressure cooker after another, going back to the end of Act One. Things had gone awry for him in a situation where he needed to leave as soon as possible, while also not being able to before he got money.

When this went awry, he was faced with another pressure cooker, having to escape. The script had established that there were many threats and obstacles he would have to face if he failed. The end of act one turned into a series of escapes that were a way to showcase Barclay’s creativity.

I felt this sequence came out well to end the act, and then act two, as I described in the previous post, was Barclay having a conversation with another character, a deputy sheriff, where every sentence would feel like it was laced with a trap, and the tension would come from what the deputy already knew or didn’t know. I felt it was another really good scene, and also gave the story some much needed variety. It wasn’t just the main character getting into one shootout after another, which can get stale if that’s all that’s going on. This scene was laced with a different kind of tension, but also allowed action to build up to another shootout instead of just jumping into one.

This is why I now felt I had a problem with the screenplay. The scene I’d just written between Barclay and the deputy ended with other characters in town finding out about why Barclay was on the run and starting to pursue him. This meant I was now writing another sequence in which Barclay would have to make several escapes.

So while I hadn’t written one shootout after another, I’d just substituted the shootout for narrow escapes. This got me reflecting on and looking through the outline I had for what remained of the screenplay, which still had the majority of two acts to go, and noted that there was still going to be two other instances in which Barclay was going to have to escape from people chasing him, and the only variance was that it was different people after him.

Seeing this brought my writing to a grinding stop. I now couldn’t shake away the bad thoughts.

This screenplay had problems.

I’d just wrapped up the end of act one with a longer sequence at a poker table where Barclay, my main character, need to leave as soon as possible, but not before he got some much needed money. Although it was just characters sitting around the table playing a game, I felt I had established the circumstances going on around the poker game to keep it exhilarating.

As you might expect, things go awry…

Barclay was then forced to get out of a tough predicament. While the sequence was long, part of what went into that length was setting up all of the threats that were waiting for him if he failed. Once things did, I had a brief sequence of narrow escapes that would take the audience to act two.

And once in act two, Barclay was going to find things weren’t going to be any easier for him.

The start of the second act revisited one of the locations already established in act one. Barclay isn’t a wanted man at this point, but he knows its only a matter of time before he is.

I infused this undertone into a conversation with a deputy that was already established earlier, one who I made a point kept up to date with all of the wanted posters coming across the wire. When Barclay meets the character again, they’ll hauling around a stack of new bounties that have been posted. The idea for the scene was that Barclay doesn’t know two things: 1) if one of those wanted posters is his, and 2) if it is, has this character seen it yet.

This made for an interesting setup for the scene because when I was writing the deputy’s dialogue, everything he said could be interpreted two ways. The first was that the deputy had seen Barclay among the wanted posters, and so things that he’s saying, like inviting him back to the Sheriff’s, was a way to arrest him without raising the alarms with Barclay. The second, was that he hadn’t seen Barclay in the wanted posters, and so everything he’s saying is just making conversation, and its Barclay’s paranoid state reading into every innocent statement and question as a trap.

I felt it was another great sequence that I had drafted. Once again, characters were simultaneously working toward their own goals, both of which complimented the scene. Barclay was trying to learn what news had spread from another town. The deputy was trying to keep the town safe, and might have been trying to arrest Barclay in order to do so.

The only problem was that this sequence last another 11 handwritten pages. This once again wouldn’t have been close to the actual number of pages of a screenplay, but I was concerned it was another extended sequence that was making the script run long.

While this was a bit of a concern, in paled in comparison to what happened next in the screenplay.

I had gotten through the first act of my Western. All the characters had been introduced, the conflicts had been presented, I’d made reference to a big event set to occur later in the story, and my main character Barclay was now neck deep in a predicament he would have to deal with for the rest of the screenplay.

And I felt…alright about it.

I felt that the scenes and sequences were solid. Each character felt like they had their own goals they were striving towards, all of which felt organic to the story. But I still had my concerns about the pace.

While I felt there was always something going on in the scenes, that they were more than just exposition dumps, these pages were starting to add up. I think. I was still writing them on only on the left hand side of the page in a notebook, with my notes on each action and dialogue written on the right side of the page. This was starting to rack up a lot of individual pages in the notebook, with sequences averaging about fifteen pages written in this manner, with the longest sequence being over 30.

Thirty pages for one sequence in a screenplay would definitely be too long, essentially a third of the movie. However, I wasn’t using a screenplay format when I was writing out scenes in my notebook. I had to keep telling myself that things were still fine, that when I transferred these scenes into some screenwriting software, the actual pages converted to proper formatting for a screenplay would bring the page numbers down a lot.

For all I knew, the first act may have gone a tad long, but was still properly paced.

I also had to remind myself that this was all a first draft. Perfection wasn’t necessary at this stage. All that mattered was getting some version of the full story onto the page. There would still be plenty of rounds of editing to come.

Even with those reminders, I couldn’t help but think about all of the other pivotal moments in the screenplay that were still to come, and writing the scenes necessary to set up those moments. I’d gotten one act down on the page, but I saw myself facing the same scenario for the other two thirds of my script.

The driving force behind my determination that I needed to keep sequences short was because through the extensive outlining that I do, I knew what was coming up in the story. Plotting things out, I knew there would going to be some sequences that I wanted to be longer, as they were pivotal moments in the story, and I didn’t want to rush through them.

There were four such instances for me in the script: the opening, and then the end of each act, the last one being the big shootout that you typically saw at the end of Westerns. These sequences would be more than just action, like the ones that book ended the story. They would also be introducing or killing key characters in the story, while also giving important details about the world this story was taking place in. Also, these sequences would include a lot of characters playing out their own story arcs as they pursued their own motivations, which would be aligned with some characters and be in direct opposition to others.

So when I wanted to ensure some sequences were written as efficient as possible, it was because I wanted to give these sequences closing out each act as much room to breathe as possible.

And I had now reached the end of Act One.

The premise for this sequence was that Barclay, the main character, needs to simultaneously leave as soon as possible, but also can’t leave until he has money. He – and the audience – will know the urgency behind both of these conflicting motivations, and will then understand why every second he can’t accomplish either adds to the tension.

While he’s working to get the money so he can leave, a minor character will act as a ticking timer for the sequence. If Barclay’s still present when they perform one innocuous act, the world will come crashing down on him.

The last two main characters are also introduced in this section. The first is someone who will actively be opposing Barclay from getting his hands on the money he needs to leave. They’re in more than just this sequence, and their full relevance to the story is set to be revealed later in the script.

The second is the main antagonist, whose introduction I had delayed to this point. I felt adding him here introduces further weight to the shoulders of Barclay as he’s already dealing with his own predicament. The way I planned to introduce the main antagonist felt like it best exemplified his character. He’d already been built up as this man you didn’t want to cross, with characters saying things like “What if he finds out?” and everyone knowing who “he” is referring to.

His introduction would have three people chasing an outlaw into the main antagonist’s establishment, and halting the apprehension when they see he, Harrison, is there. Without any show of force, he simultaneously extorts the outlaw into paying him from clemency while talking the bounty hunters into leaving his establishment until he’s squeezed every last cent from them, down to how many paces they’re to wait outside before they can nab him again.

Even this interaction served two purposes: it introduced Harrison, and also established a new threat for Barclay. If he doesn’t get out with the money in time, there’s now the three bounty hunters, looking to get paid, who would happily settle for collecting the price on his head while they waited for the original outlaw they had been chasing.

It was a fun sequence to write, but I also found myself trying to move it along in a way that conveyed how much time it was taking without it feeling too long to get through. In my unique format of this first draft, it ended up clocking in at 33 pages, which, while reduced for an actual screenplay, was still going to be considerable, and a reason why I needed to shorten other scenes as much as I could

I was starting to feel the pace slip out of my control in the first act of my Western. I liked how the individual scenes were reading, with a lot going out that would allow the audience to learn about and feel immersed in the world I was creating, but I was still in the first act. There was a lot that I wanted to have happen, both vital to the plot and in terms of set pieces. If I was shooting for a screenplay that was about 90-95 pages, I couldn’t devote more than was necessary to what was essentially the setup for all of these bigger story beats.

I felt like the story allowed for a bit of a reprieve from the longer sequences that I had been writing that was introducing a lot of the characters. The next two sequences, both of which were nothing more than scenes, would only feature two characters. What’s more, the two characters had already been established. I wouldn’t have to take time introducing them to the audience. I would need to build on what the audience already knew about them, but that could be done naturally in the story.

I had wanted the sequences to not really last more than the two pages of notebook paper I was using, which was really less than half of a page of notebook paper, as I was using half of the page to note the importance of what I was including in the first draft of the script. I didn’t quite hit that target, but I didn’t miss by an outlandish amount. I think both sequences were about 4 pages apiece, maybe just dipping into 5 at the most.

Again, writing in notebook pages that were smaller than regular screenplay pages, and only writing on one half of the page, and double spacing, meant that when I ultimately converted my handwritten draft to an actual script, it would be much shorter than the 4-5 pages I’d jotted down in the notebook. I felt this was getting me back on track.

This was important, because I was approaching another sequence that was meant to be long.