Category Archives: Book Reviews

Everybody knows the classic screenwriting books (if you don’t, check out our free guide on how to get started). Here I’ve tried to seek out some unique and innovative books that build on the foundations of the classics.

Review: Story Genius: How to Use Brain Science To Go Beyond Outlining and Write a Riveting Novel by Lisa Cron

One of the most anxiety-inducing elements in all of writing is “structure.” We all go on and on about its importance, the efficacy of its numerous paradigms, and its elusive overall nature. It’s perhaps the most controversial concept of the craft. Many consider it an absolutely crucial roadmap, necessary to carry them forward. Without the guideposts of the inciting incident on page 15, the Act Two turn on page 30, the “all is lost” moment on Page 85, etc. they would be totally lost. To others, this is all nothing but a stifling roadblock that only serves to hamstring their creativity and subvert their inspiration as it tries to cram their square ideas (in terms of shape for the sake of this metaphor, not in terms of hipness) into these round-shaped predetermined inflexible plot beats. Sometimes we get so frustrated with a story idea that we can’t make fit into this formulaic scaffolding that we just want to throw out the whole concept of structure and tell the story we want to tell. Well, what if there was a way you could, while still adhering to a natural storytelling scheme that would churn out an effective yarn? Let’s have a look at Story Genius: How to Use Brain Science to Go Beyond Outlining and Write a Riveting Novel (Before You Waste Three Years Writing 327 Pages That Go Nowhere) by Lisa Cron.

Cron comes at this storytelling thing from a whole new angle. Rather than the external plot, of things just happening in the world of your book or script, her contention is that it all stems from the internal struggle of your main character, between an ingrained desire and a self-sabotaging misbelief. Cron labels this dynamic the “third rail” of the story, that activates it and gives it life, thus literally every other component of the narrative emanates from it. So all creative decisions are made from the inside out, based on the (very Aristotelian) idea of “what would my character do next, based on what is happening and, very importantly, what has happened to him/ her in the past to shape how the decision of where to go next will be made.” So, this represents a total departure from the story structure-dictated dilemmas such as “how do I make a death moment happen for her?” or “I need to change his goal at the midpoint, so what should the new one be?” This is story composition off the beaten path, and it can lead you to some intriguing places.

The layout of Cron‘s book is extremely user-friendly, as it’s not all abstract prescription about story design, but it actually details the development of a novel from the ground up; one that’s being written by Cron‘s friend, author Jennie Nash. So we get a real-time case study of the thought process at work; every step, and misstep. The whole thing starts with why you want to write this story in the first place, then goes on to who your main character is, how he/ she got this way, and therefore what lead up to the impossible situation that will be the main conflict of your story. It goes into how to build one minor conflict onto the next, and eventually to the ultimate culmination, how to handle secondary characters, etc.

Enjoy making scene cards to map out your story? No problem! Cron has a system for doing just that, with a card specifically compartmentalized into sections with certain prompts. The answers to these prompts get to the heart of your scenes and bring out their ultimate purpose and utility in the overall plot. This excises a lot of aimless guesswork (speaking from experience) from beating out your story, and there’s virtually no question about the order or usefulness of scenes to contend with. The cards are split into rows that detail what happens (the external) and why it happens, in terms of the protagonist’s primary inner struggle (the internal), so they blaze parallel trails between your hero’s inner and outer journeys, keeping you honest all along the way.

“That’s all good and well for a novel, that can be all about a character’s inner thoughts and psychological struggles, but I’m a screenwriter, working in a visual medium, so it’s all about the external actions.” Not so fast. The ultimate object of Cron‘s cultivation of the characters’ inner conflicts is precisely to dictate their outer behavior. Story Genius leads us to tangible actions while providing a metric to keep them consistently in character.

A few things to consider when taking on the Story Genius challenge: Cron‘s “my way or the highway” position is laid out in no uncertain terms, and she doesn’t pull punches in taking the entire paradigm of story structure, and every one of its incarnations, right to task and enjoining the reader/writer to toss it straight out the window, not to be pondered again. So giving Story genius a shot involves setting aside some principles that may have become quite precious to you on your journey. But hey, don’t all significant leaps forward start with an open-minded approach and a step outside your comfort zone?

The Story Genius approach has also been particularly useful for me in rewriting a completed script. It’s provided some solid criteria by which to judge each scene’s service to the overall piece, as well as its logical coherence, so that it may be modified, shifted, or axed. Cron‘s standards have also planted some big red flags in character choices and behaviors that were misaligned with their core inner conflicts. This method has really streamlined and clarified my vision on more than one project.

If, among your writing woes, you find yourself meandering through your plot, waffling and indecisive about where to take it, and beating your head against the wall to decode its structure (again, experience), then I can’t recommend Story Genius enough. It’s been a game-changer (a term I don’t use lightly, and usually not at all) for my writing and it may just be what you need to get unstuck on a current piece, get going on a story idea, or straighten out a completed work that just doesn’t quite feel right. In other words, if you’re a writer at all, looking for a clear narrative direction to go in and the conducive thought process to take you there, Story Genius by Lisa Cron is not to be missed!

Review: Write Time: Guide to the Creative Process by Kenneth Atchity

I’ve reviewed many books about the writing process, from the broad and overarching to the highly specialized, focused on a singular step of the journey. I’ve read the greats’ musings on everything from formulating the idea, to plotting it out, to emphasizing the emotional element, to remedies for writer’s block. Each is great in its own right, but what if I want a mentor to really make it personal, get in my head, delve into the intricacies of my own unique process, troubleshoot my pet neuroses that seem to chronically hold me back from reaching what I know to be my true potential, and clue me in on how to harness and optimize the writer’s most precious resource; time. Simple request, right? Simple for Kenneth Atchity, author of Write Time: Guide to the Creative Process, from Vision through Revision – and Beyond.

This book reads like a writer’s counseling session (the constructive kind), in every sense of that term; from cold hard business prudence strategies to processing deep-seated self-defeating thoughts. It grabs you from the Author’s Note which, as with any great forward or introduction, does more than just preview what’s to come. Dr. Atchity‘s credibility is firmly established here. He lets us know that 1) he feels our pain, and understands what we’re going through as creative souls who want to be professional artists, and 2) he’s been around the block enough times to know how to get us to where we want to be.

Once we get rolling, Atchity dispenses with the BS right out of the gate and lets us know that, while writing might be based on intuition and creative passions, it’s a craft and a discipline that must be honed through a rigorous and deliberate regimen. But here’s the good news – he’s going to take you by the hand and lead you through the process of establishing a productive and rewarding routine, and he’s going to leverage your own psychology to do it, turning your debilitating issues and hangups to your advantage. The book takes a deep dive into the human mind, points out how its natural workings must be considered, accommodated, and manipulated to develop habits and tricks to make your mental apparatus work for you instead of against you in achieving your creative goals, and some of his strategies will really surprise you!

Atchity provides an intriguing illustration of the interplay between parts of the brain that activates the motive power of creation. Just as conflict is the foundation of story, so it’s also the spark that sets your creative will into motion – this is the conflict between your rational faculties (which he nicknames the Continent of Reason) and your free-wheeling intuition (dubbed the Islands of Consciousness). The original quirky ideas of the islands are translated into the comprehensible and relatable language of the Continent through the intermediary function he calls the Managing Editor. Getting a grasp on these dynamics allows us to work toward striking a balance between “tricking” our brains into action and riding the wave of their natural functioning to channel our mental energy into our writing. Sound intriguing? That’s just the beginning!

As the title indicates, Write Time charts a detailed path to writing success, leaving no stone unturned, from initial dream all the way to polished product. It’s a comprehensive guide to the creative, technical, business, and personal aspects of the craft. Sound too rigid and formulaic for your taste? What if I told you it entails A LOT of variation at the numerous stages, and more than a few mandated vacations? The aim isn’t that you match a prescribed workflow to the letter. It’s to show you a proven real-world model and leave you to dovetail what’s useful with your own strengths, fill in any gaps in your process, make adjustments, and replace what’s not working for you. This section is all about establishing a writing agenda that your mind is geared to stick to and thrive on, and how to not become a statistic who perpetually and eternally has a “work in progress.”

Of course, one of the main threads of the book is the teaching of time management. It’ll show that you don’t really lack the time to achieve your writing goals. The time is there, you’re just not coordinating your cognitive resources in such a way to generate the necessary output within that time. Maintaining a reasonable perspective on the work/ time relationship is paramount. There are methods of mindset, planning, strategy, prioritizing, and step-by-step exercises to optimize your available chunks of time (even if you have to steal them). This chapter alone is worth the price of the book.

From there the writing process begins, and we’re off to the races. Here’s what’s in store as you make your way through Write Time:

  • Approaching drafting and revision
  • Style – how it comes about, and its rightful place in the writer’s hierarchy of values (pretty low, but valuable)
  • A sample step by step process of creating a nonfiction book, explaining the reasons for the order, actions, and method at each waypoint; with an accompanying comparison to fiction writing
  • The most important elements of fiction, and how to pack your story with maximum drama by tapping into your intuition to find its natural shape and structure (which has nothing to do with chronology)
  • What your main priority should be to succeed in writing (Hint: It’s not using big words and feeling clever)
  • A lengthy chapter on getting your book published. Don’t make the mistake of dismissing and skipping this one as irrelevant to the plight of a screenwriter. There’s a wealth of information here about…
    • Dealing with gatekeepers with respect and professionalism (in person and through correspondence such as query letters and emails)
    • Legal forms and contracts for deal-making
    • Handling rejection, and the higher pressure situation of handling acceptance
    • Seeking representation, consulting attorneys
    • Customizing your workspace.
  • The importance of understanding mythology for shaping and clarifying your story, with a striking illustration of how a film can go astray due to the inconsistent retelling of a myth.
  • Methods and tricks for getting in touch with your subconscious through dreamwork and other avenues, along with some brilliant case studies of psychological techniques employed by writers having story problems, that’ll leave you inspired and cracking up.
  • Overcoming psychological traumas of the past by channeling them into our writing and bridging the gap between conscious and unconscious.
  • Some nice practical nitty-gritty stuff on screenwriting – character development, structure, twists, layers of effective storytelling; all through the prism of the key questions on the minds of the producers/ executives evaluating and vetting your work for production and/ or broadcast.
  • The card system revisited, with workflow tips distinguishing the processes of novels vs. screenplays.
  • Insights about revising (keep a particular eye out for the “conflict or cut” rule), and how many revisions are enough.
  • The crucial golden Hollywood skill of pitching and how it must not be overlooked in one’s pursuit of a screenwriting career, with a really fun illustration of the pitch-to-production process (it involves a relay race).
  • A baker’s dozen of straightforward rules for breaking into Hollywood; covering the personal, psychological, mindset, business, and more.
  • A critical therapeutic chapter on Recapturing Creativity – what to do when your motivation to create (inevitably) wanes. A veritable troubleshooting manual for the writer’s perspective. Something to be revisited any time you feel you’ve lost your way.
  • He closes with an amazing collection of his favorite quotes from great figures to leave the reader feeling inspired, encouraged, and motivated to carry on with the struggle.

Overall, Write Time amounts to a rather economical mentoring session with a writing sage who’s been there, done that, and wants us to get there too. It’s a premium blend of tough love, advice, encouragement, clarification, and delusion-busting. It approaches the needs of the writer from every angle and gives us what we’re yearning for, whatever that may be. For the writer at any stage of the game looking for guidance, this one is not to be missed.

Review: Story Maps: TV Drama: The Structure of the One-Hour Television Pilot by Daniel Calvisi

A well-written film these days is a beam of sunlight punching through a dark cloud of disappointing, unengaging fodder. There’s an abundance of CGI-laden spectacle, pretty digitally de-aged people in pretty computer-enhanced places doing fancy things (inspiring surprisingly little emotional response), but where have all the complex characters navigating twisted challenging plots in the tensest and most gut-wrenching situations imaginable gone? Well, they’ve gone to television. It’s no big revelation that TV is where visual storytelling is at its peak in recent years. It’s now become commonplace for the biggest Hollywood stars – actors, directors, and definitely writers – to suddenly turn up working on TV series. This move that was considered a step down in decades past is now looked at as an upgrade in many ways, certainly in terms of pure narrative quality. So, more and more of us are turning our sights from the big studio lots to the staff writing rooms and looking to break into television writing.

The good news is that in this “Second Golden Age of Television” overlapping with hyper-expanding technology broadening the possibilities for the viewing, broadcasting, and production of series content, the opportunities are numerous and growing for the aspiring TV writer. The bad news is that, after so many years of motion picture dominance, there’s a relative dearth of information out there about how to write for TV, particularly in terms of “beat sheets” and general structural guides. Everyone can name numerous essential classics detailing how to structure, plot, and characterize a feature screenplay. And while a lot can be found in that sphere that applies to all formats of storytelling, with TV you’re talking about an entirely distinct business model with very different goals and markers of success than movie writing. When I embarked on the daunting journey of writing my first television pilot (first episode of a series) a few years back I felt kinda lost as to how to go about structuring it. My saving grace was Story Maps: TV Drama: The Structure of the One-Hour Television Pilot by Daniel Calvisi.

Like the shows we want to create and write for, Story Maps: TV Drama is multilayered and multidimensional. On one hand, it’s a quick, economical, streamlined primer to get you up to speed and ready to churn out your original pilot in short order, yet at the same time it contains enough insightful material to allow for an extremely thorough and in-depth study of deeper nuanced narrative devices behind some of the greatest and most successful pilots in recent TV history.

The book is arranged deductively, general to specific, starting with an overview of the character and current state of the television industry; particularly the parameters, vernacular, and qualities that distinguish it from the movie business. Calvisi also offers some insights on TV’s fast-evolving and ever-flexible nature, elucidating the growing possibilities for new writers and the prudence of steering your career in that direction. Then we’re onto the mechanics of writing the pilot. This section begins by laying out and detailing the foundational components that seem essential to a strong pilot. Each one is brought into focus in terms of its uses and service to the overall episode, and grounded in accompanying references to what’s worked in a diverse hand-picked array of great series. These citations continue throughout, serving as fantastic guideposts illustrating the validity, varying techniques of implementation, and range of possibilities for each element covered.

From here it’s time to start mixing the ingredients into more and more detailed Story Maps, assembling the pilot’s skeleton and squaring away the technical issues of getting a teleplay written. As the steps get finer and more nuanced, it funnels down to the meat and potatoes of the book: the Beat Sheet.

Prior to discovering Story Maps, most everything I found online concerning a one-hour TV episode’s structure offered simply a traditional three-act feature film’s beat sheet, but diced into more acts to allow for commercial breaks, each concluding with an essential cliffhanger “act-out.” If I was lucky, they might also throw in a few pointers about the importance of elevating the subplots to “B” and “C” stories and suggestions for how to balance them. Gee, thanks a lot, guys. I guess you get what you pay for. Calvisi’s Pilot Beat Sheet delivers on the promise of its title. It’s a lucid, illuminating roadmap. It absolutely adheres to the “form, not formula” mantra, maintaining creative flexibility (more on this below) while showing the vital waypoints on the path.

Then nearly half the book is dedicated to one of those devices that we often wish for, but rarely get – a satisfying nexus between reading the script cold and having a conversation with an industry insider about it – there’s a detailed breakdown of each selected pilot teleplay by Calvisi showing his beat sheet in action. This is where the aforementioned flexibility is really highlighted. He elucidates all of the deviations, variations, resituating, rearranging, and occasional (well-reasoned) omissions of the beats, giving us a look at how the scripts differ from the final product, how different genres and moods call for different approaches, how artistic risks can pay off, etc. He does this for Scandal, Mr. Robot, True Detective, The Walking Dead, Game of Thrones, Breaking Bad, House of Cards, and Mad Men. The experience of watching these pilots, with the script and Calvisi’s breakdowns handy, is about as close as most of us can get to sitting down with the writers and picking their brains.

The only caveat I would include with this one is that it does seem geared toward those of us with some prior knowledge of storytelling and screenwriting, particularly of features (for which there’s also a Story Maps installment), rather than for total newbies. But if you have some pages under your belt, and writing for TV is indeed in your sites (and if it’s not, think about it!), this one is indispensable. Check it out and let us know what you think!

Review: The Idea: The Seven Elements of a Viable Story for Screen, Stage or Fiction by Erik Bork

One of the most prevalent and vexing feedback notes we can get is “it’s just not working,” thus initiating the never-ending punishment and agony of “making it work” (more on punishment and agony later). But a real pro can always whip a story into shape, bringing whatever concept he’s confronted with, whether his own or inherited from another writer, to a working and engaging plot, right? Well, not so fast.

I’ve actually received the comment that I’d done a respectable job buttressing unworkable plot points with the circumstances and exposition that made them almost dovetail believably into the story. Of course, the troubling part about this was that we both knew it wasn’t a compliment. Applying a tourniquet doesn’t close the wound.

Maybe what separates the pros from the up-and-comers is their ability to discern a workable story idea from one that’s just plain deficient at its core, and, in its present form, can’t be made to work, no matter how many hours or how much grief the writer is willing to throw into trying. This is the skill that’s explored in The Idea: The Seven Elements of a Viable Story for Screen, Stage or Fiction by Erik Bork.

In his assent to screenwriting prominence, Erik Bork started as a dude from Ohio who made the big move to LA, wound up temping for 20th Century Fox, where he was assigned to assist some actor guy you may have heard of, named Tom Hanks. He was in on the development of From the Earth to the Moon and Band of Brothers, both of which he helped write and produce. On the latter, he worked with some producer guy you may have heard of, named Steven Spielberg. This experience sounds, on one hand, like a dream atmosphere in which to develop one’s career surrounded by first-rate mentors; and on the other, a brutal thrown-into-the-deep-end scenario. Either way, the author’s credibility doesn’t seem to be an issue.

Bork opens the book with an insightful briefing on the modern market. He professes that the more things have changed, with greater capabilities to create content on modest budgets and resources, the more they’ve stayed the same, with the continued need to get past the gatekeepers if you want to put your stuff in front of a sizable audience, thus turning it into a career. He then lays out a catchy blueprint on how this can be achieved through the proper vetting of your idea.

As we all know, at the heart of every story is a problem, so Bork has couched his quick and concise guide into an acronym that spells out the most crucial elements of a story concept in the following way…

  • P – Punishing to the protagonist from start to (almost) finish
  • R – Relatable characters and situations we can empathize with
  • O – Original: “give us the same but in a different, unique way”
  • B – Believable logic/ character actions, even in an unreal world
  • L – Life-altering stakes should be involved
  • E – Entertaining material that fulfills genre expectations
  • M – Meaningful enough to leave a lasting emotional impression

Don’t be turned off by the neatness of how these factors fit the acronym. Bork didn’t’ choose them lightly, and backs each one up with solid hard-won wisdom about its vitalness, how it operates alongside its counterparts, and its place in the hierarchy as far as how much wiggle room you have with it.

As you may have gleaned from my previous review, lately I’ve been delving into more specialized books that cover specific components of the script or steps of the process. If there’s an ideal go-to reference that you should crack first, it would be The Idea. Once you run your concept through Bork‘s gauntlet, and you’ve got all of the cylinders firing, then you can more confidently move forward to the mechanics of plotting, character development, twists and turns, etc. with far fewer headaches and self-loathing contemplation about whether you should just throw in the towel and sign up for an online typewriter maintenance course, or is that just me?

As mentioned, The Idea is a short read. However, despite being dense with useful content, it’s also an enjoyable journey through the PROBLEM elements. It’s laid out in a way that’s extremely accessible to writers at all levels, usually detailing the most common ways that new writers tend to fall short in each of the techniques, the mindset that led them astray, and how these can be remedied.

The story concept is where it all begins. If you want to create great fiction from the ground up, then giving this component its due attention and scrutiny may be the single most valuable habit you can add to your craft. Several of this book‘s insights were immediately actionable for me, and the impact it’s had on the quality and my experience of writing, is immeasurable. If you’re having trouble with your process that isn’t easily identified, chances are it can be traced back to the issues addressed in The Idea, but don’t just take my word for it. Pick it up and let me know!

Review: The Plot Machine: Design Better Stories Faster by Dale Kutzera

Stumbling blocks are inevitable in any form of writing. Fiction writing carries some special challenges, and one of the most vicious monkeys on the screenwriter’s back is the formulation of a logical, well-structured plot. Plotting complications might arise in the prewriting/ planning phase, in the midst of cranking out the pages, or, worst of all, when you’ve completed a draft and realize your story thread has serious issues and needs some damage control. It’s a scary feeling to write a slew of scenes that are working for you, only to zoom out and realize you’ve lost your way along the narrative through line. Even the coolest beats are pointless if they’re just dangling in the ether, or drifting by on a winding, dead-end street.

These hiccups can take a variety of forms, affecting (or infecting) your script in a number of ways, and looking to one of the classic, standard, comprehensive screenwriting bibles may not always be the most straightforward or efficient troubleshooting route to take. Sometimes what you need is a specialized tool geared directly at what’s ailing your story. The best such tool I’ve encountered in a long time is The Plot Machine: Design Better Stories Faster by Dale Kutzera.

Did you catch that word “design” in the title? Well, Kutzera means exactly that. He comes right out and states, “this is a design guide, not a writing guide,” at one point analogizing story planning to architectural engineering and the final movie to a solidly constructed building.

Through his chosen method of taxonomy, or classification into ordered categories, Kutzera effectively deconstructs, simplifies, and distills the plotting process into a readily applicable workflow, or rather, one of several possible workflows depending on the type of story you’re going for. He neatly catalogs some of the most prevalent and successful types of endeavors, archetypal characters, brands of character arcs, possibilities for your death moment, and so on. This technique essentially is The Plot Machine, and it ticks like a Swiss watch.

Don’t let these cold pragmatic overtones (or the page count) fool you. The conciseness doesn’t render it light so much as dense. There’s a surprising degree of depth and thoughtfulness built into The Plot Machine. It begins by taking a step back to ponder the overall purpose of stories and storytelling and then bears this in mind as a referential guidepost throughout. This same principle is applied to each tier of the system. We’re prompted to consider the core functions of each plot element or to ask ourselves a few simple up-front questions about what we hope to accomplish in its development. This serves as an aid to our creative choices, a course-correcter to keep us on track, and a hedge against the problems that tend to come up later if we overlook these factors.

With the essential overarching intentions established, he funnels down to the nuts and bolts of the process. One of The Plot Machine‘s key features is its focus on prioritization. The objectives seem to be maximized economy and minimal need for revisions and rewrites in the end, as you will have built a solid foundation at each stage before moving onto the finer details and ornaments. So if you’re diving into a new script, The Plot Machine can offer a place to start shaping your plot (hint: it’s not on Act 1, Scene 1, Page 1), and a full unfolding of where to go from there in terms of what narrative components you have to work with, ways to structure them, and how the sequences you build can lay into the storyline. If you’re having trouble with a script that’s in the works, these same procedures can just as easily serve as a quick-reference problem-solving guide.

If all this sounds too rigid and formulaic, think again. The Plot Machine’s starting point is your own creative inspiration, as Kutzera prescribes beginning with what you have in mind for your movie idea, whether that’s a particular character, situation, genre, or whatever. He also points out the infinite avenues open to the plotting process due to the disparate demands of different types of stories, and the virtues of understanding the conventions so that we can turn them on their heads. Not every plotline needs a midpoint reversal, not every protagonist needs to refuse the call to action, and who’s to say the slayer can’t join forces with the dragon in Act 3?

The Plot Machine can be a boon to your writing regardless of where you are or how it’s going. Its only weakness, near as I can tell, is also one of its greatest strengths. As mentioned, it’s a design guide, so it doesn’t delve into the mechanics or fundamentals of screenwriting, telling you how to color within the formatting lines in your description (until it’s time not to) or how to keep the rhythm and cadence of your dialog in tandem with the tone of the piece. If you’re looking for those things, you should turn to one of the classics. You won’t find it in The Plot Machine. However, you will (quickly) come away from it with an enriched understanding of how to configure your story, why you’re writing it, and perhaps why you write at all.

Review: Tough Love Screenwriting: The Real Deal From A Twenty-Year Pro by John Jarrell

Well, I feel like I’m about to explain a lot about something that doesn’t require much explaining. (What does that say about me as a writer? Oh well, let’s press on.) We find ourselves buried in books on HOW TO WRITE, and when I review them, I try to own up to my responsibility to inform you about which aspects of the skill set are emphasized, from what angle the author approaches the writing process, what individual styles and tastes it might cater to or not, etc. Here, we have a very different specimen. Tough Love Screenwriting: The Real Deal From A Twenty-Year Pro by John Jarrell is about BEING A SCREENWRITER. That’s a different matter entirely, and the title couldn’t possibly do a better job of stating exactly what you’re in for.

Maybe you’ve picked up a few vague tips and pointers about the film/TV business as the closing thoughts or afterward of other screenwriting books; clues about making sales, getting writing assignments, and networking in general, but don’t they all seem to have a “from the outside, looking in” flavor (begging the question of whether or how often the authors have actually achieved these feats)? Enter John Jarrell, a man who’s been there, done that, and is generously (?) willing to dish it all out, raw and unfiltered.

Jarrell pops the hood, pulls the curtain back, gives us a peek through the keyhole, pick your cliche, exposing the Hollywood screenwriting mechanism exactly as he’s experienced it. Tough Love‘s tone is playfully brutal and the veracity is beyond question. Nothing with this disorderly blend of starry-eyed triumph and gut-wrenching, disillusioning, debacles could possibly be made up. All of this, combined with Jarrell’s sharp, snarky delivery, and you could say that the entertainment value alone is worth the price, but that’s not nearly the crowning virtue of this book, not for anyone who wants into the business.

The true value here is the insights into the Hollywood system. All of the stuff you haven’t thought of yet – the anatomy of deals, the influence that one person’s mental disorder can have on a production, the system for deciding who gets writing credit on a movie and why it matters, how to conduct yourself in the face of clueless and vindictive development execs, and a host of other survival skills that you won’t find mentioned in any other screenwriting literature I know about.

But don’t take all of this to mean that it’s all abstract, “down-the-road” stuff. There’s plenty for us aspirers to chew on as well. This book induced me to incorporate several extremely beneficial things into my writing education and habits. Among them, I read Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting by Syd Field, studied and gained a greater understanding of craft from the Training Day screenplay, and began using the classic note card method. These examples alone have immeasurably moved my writing forward.

And that about does it. I warned you about the over-explaining. If you want the straight dope from someone who is where so many of us want to be, this one is not to be missed.

Review: Writing for Emotional Impact by Karl Iglesias

We as new screenwriters are filled to the brim with questions about how to do it “right.” Does my structure dovetail perfectly into the standard template? Do I have enough white space? Do I need this supporting character? How much back story is necessary for the protag’s mother?

As I learn more and more, and look back at my journey thus far, I find I’ve spent a lot of time asking the wrong questions. My greatest leaps in knowledge and craft have come when I made some major course correction regarding my approach to the writing process. Lately I’ve been lucky to experience several of these thanks to Karl IglesiasWriting for emotional impact : advanced dramatic techniques to attract, engage, and fascinate the reader from beginning to end.

If you’re someone who’s leafed all through the big-name how-to classics, and seemingly learned everything there is to know about story structure, character profiles, plot and subplot mapping, and genre conventions, then you’re exactly who this book was written for! It comes at the whole paradigm from a fresh new angle that’s the creative equivalent of nine hours’ sleep followed by a hot oil massage.

Right out of the gate, Iglesias‘ focus is on the step where the screenwriting rubber meets the road, the emotional effect of the script. Yeah, that’s not a mistake, and you read it right. I meant the script. The point is emphasized that, while it’s a blueprint for an eventual movie, the critical point in the process for us is how the words on the page strike that initial gatekeeper, the (probably assistant or intern to) the producer/ studio head/ financier/ whoever, and sway his/ her decision about whether it’s worthy of getting off the ground in the first place. It’s not good enough to spout, “Just wait till you see it on screen. It’ll knock your socks off!” It’s unlikely to get that far if the read was a lifeless chore to that first reader. His or hers are the socks that must be jettisoned. Pretty insightful perspective, huh? Maybe that revelation alone is worth the price of admission. But we’re just getting started here. The meat of the book consists of telling us how to do it.

As a script reader himself, Iglesias offers the candid inside word on their circumstances, mindset, approach and visceral reactions (which are the reactions that count) when they read our work. He then proceeds to lay out the emotional triggers that are tripped by the best of the best scripts, and how we may achieve them in our own writing.

In all of your reading, podcasts, webinars, seminars, courses, and meet-up groups; how much attention have you really placed on how your work will make the reader feel? What about how that will interact with the characters’ emotions? Do you know which emotional reactions are the most gripping and memorable, and will get your script noticed? Did you know that the simplest of edits and alterations can transform an empty, throw-away beat into something super-engaging that keeps them turning pages? Have you ever approached your writing or editing with these things in mind? This is what you’re going to get from this book.

Whether starting from the initial spark of an idea, or slogging through the rewrite process, there seems to be a certain hierarchy of script writing factors that, if followed in order of importance, can provide an extremely useful, time and grief-saving workflow for building or rebuilding your story. Iglesias’ book is laid out in an optimal flow for not only readability, but workability. It starts with the most broad strokes such as concept and overall story, then filters down to the later-stage fine-tuning of description, dialog, etc. It’s not something to be read, absorbed, and shelved. If you’re really serious, it’ll serve as a manual and roadmap, constantly at your side as you write.

Needless to say, I can’t recommend this book enough. My only caveat would be that, as the subtitle indicates, these are advanced techniques, and meant to be broached once you have a working understanding of the screenwriting basics. So, while I might (and only might) not make this my first book on the craft, my collection would be severely lacking without it.

Review: How to Kick Writer’s Block in the @$% by Michael Rogan

Thus far, I’ve never really been a sufferer of writer’s block. No, my main hangups could be better described as your garden-variety procrastination and mild resistance (blowing off writing to clean the house, clear out my inbox, watch the barking cat video one more time, etc.). But, I’m never one to pass up any opportunity to learn something about my chosen craft, especially from a source I can count on for accessible, down-and-dirty, practical, and extremely useful content. That source is Michael Rogan. (He’s also one of the most qualified human beings on the planet to hash out the niceties of writer’s block – more on this below.)

Michael is the Head Hancho Publisher over at ScriptBully, a writing consultation company that specializes in cutting straight to the chase in assisting screenwriters at every level move their careers forward (or at least nudge ’em out of a standstill). They’ve got it all – online courses, seminars, consultation services, and plenty of sweet books. The resources tackle a wide range of screenwriting angles, from devising and refining your initial idea for a movie, to the pure nuts-and-bolts formatting of the script.

So, I was excited to hear about the newest installment, How to Kick Writer’s Block in the @$%, and jumped at the chance to pick up a copy.  As usual, this volume doesn’t disappoint.

Michael expounds in his usual style of keeping it terse and to-the-point, but interlacing the material with surprising depth. There are also plenty of humorous quips along the way, keeping it light and enjoyable. He starts with a brief overview of the physiological/ psychological causes of writer’s block, without getting overly technical and losing the reader. Then, we’re off to the races…

What’s offered is a wealth of tools to throw in the box, for aspects such as maintaining mental focus, keeping a diligent writing schedule, maximizing your output, seeing projects through to the end, and most importantly – enjoying the process!

I’m new to these exercises, but I can tell you I’ve already incorporated a few of them (one of which is being accomplished right now) and I believe they’ll have a great impact, not only on my results, but on my writing experience overall. They’re simple, immediately integrable, and the benefits are often readily apparent. They consist of creating the optimum physical, mental, emotional, and logistical conditions to elevate your writing workflow. Nothing is crammed down your throat. The option is left entirely to you to pick, choose, and customize the tips to suit your purposes.

Last, and possibly least, depending on your outlook; Michael is especially credible on this issue, having suffered through a six-year bout with writer’s block. As an epilogue, he includes the excruciating blow-by-blow account of how it happened and how he came out a professional writer on the other side. It’s a fascinating and, for me, oddly comforting story that really puts things into perspective.

If you’re a writer of any variety (this isn’t only for the “screen-types”), this book will serve as an enjoyable read and invaluable resource. You will certainly not regret picking it up. And you can’t beat the price!