What My Foray Into Screenwriting Taught me about Crafting a Novel

All my life I wanted to be a novelist. The idea of trying my hand at screenwriting never entered my mind until I moved to Los Angeles. Once you live here, writing at least one screenplay is practically a right of passage, whether you’re a doctor, a lawyer, a waiter/actor, or a psychic to the stars. Everyone gets the bug at some point.

Before I moved to La La Land, I’d written two gargantuan epic fantasy novels that were basically collections of all the things I loved. Vampires, were creatures, parallel dimensions, violence, gore, sex, witchcraft, dystopia, westerns, I could go on and on. I’m telling you, these monstrosities I had created were like True Blood to the tenth power.

I was a decent writer, but I was struggling like crazy to write a book that could actually sell.

I got frustrated with writing novels, so I decided, “Hey, why not write a screenplay? It has to be easier than writing a book.”

Turns out, what I learned from screenwriting made writing a novel easier. And as soon as

I returned from my foray into screenwriting and wrote a new book using my new knowledge, that was the one that got me an agent and sold.

Here’s a breakdown of what I took away from screenwriting that helped me become a better novelist:

•The notion of high concept – There are a lot of definitions for high concept, but on the most basic level, it is this: a really f#&@*$g good idea that makes people’s eyes light up when you tell it to them. Easy, right? Okay, not so much. Let’s delve. A great high concept idea is one that is generally unique, but with familiar elements. Something that is “the same but different.” That’s why using a mashup of two ideas works so well to create a high concept idea. You end up saying things like “my story is like ___ meets ___but with ___.” If a mashup comes easily to mind when you think of your story, you probably have a great high concept idea on your hands. Remember, idea is king.

•Save the cat – There’s a screenwriting book called Save the Cat, by Blake Snyder, which is chock full of great wisdom for storytellers of any form. Buy it. It’s worth it. But for now, I’ll talk about the most important notion in the book: your main character needs to save the cat. What this means is that your MC needs to do something early in the story that gets the audience/reader on her side. You can have a character who is secretly a cold-blooded serial killer, but if, early in your story, this killer sees a smaller kid being bullied and stops it, we’ll be on the killer’s side for the rest of the novel. A great example is Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games. As a character, she’s heroic, but she’s also stoic and stubborn and single-minded. But . . . she makes a great sacrifice in the first chapter to save another, and for that we will forgive pretty muchanything else she does for the rest of the series.

•Language is not enough – Screenplays are action and dialogue, which equals story, story, story, and they have to be 120 pages or less in most cases. There’s no room for overwriting and showoffy language. Before screenwriting, the two books I’d written were both 250,000 words. I was obviously doing some overwriting, and quite a bit of showing off. Screenwriting taught me the art of saying a lot with a little, and more importantly, it taught me the importance of placing story above language. Language is great, yes, we all love a beautifully crafted sentence or metaphor. But if all you have is language, you’re dead in the water.

•Be willing to move on – In the world of screenwriting, you can’t just write one screenplay and sell it for a million and that’s that, you’re set for life. Most writers don’t ever sell a screenplay. They get assignments by studios to write them, and usually they need to show a body of work in order to get those assignments. Screenwriters can’t become so attached to their work that they never get past that first screenplay, or they’ll never get paid, and never see their work produced. The lesson I learned from this is that I should not cling to my projects. I should keep moving. Keep writing. Sharks have to keep swimming or they’ll die, and the same is true for a writer’s career. Some books can be an anchor, holding you back, pulling you under. Be willing to write something new. Lots of somethings new.

Jennifer Bosworth is the debut author of STRUCK, a story of post-apocalyptic proportions. When a massive earthquake devastates Los Angeles, teenage lightning addict Mia Price finds herself at the center of a battle between two doomsday cults, one that wants to save the world and one that wants to destroy it. And she will be the deciding factor in who succeeds at their aim. (FSG/May 8, 2012)

Tired of the yellow meringue bridesmaid dress?

Getting an agent is often compared to getting married. Understandably. There’s the whole having to work together, believe in each other, mollycoddle the baby, teach it to walk, send it out into the world and hope it survives… but that’s way out there in the future. That’s for the girl who’s been proposed to, who’s walking up the aisle. The big question is how do you get that ideal guy to look at you across the dance floor, to wonder who you are, to show enough interest to ask you to dinner in the first place?

Well this is my story: It’s October 2010. I have a disastrous ‘Meet & Critique’ with a talented agent and return to my husband licking my wounds. ‘But I thought you said your first chapter was made of awesome!’ he says. (Except in French, with a French accent.) I shrug helplessly. Clearly I was delusional. Clearly I am clueless. He frowns, then runs into his pep talk – minor set back, her loss, a million agents rejected HP (totally not true, but anyway)… I drift away wondering if I really did believe I could make it, or if I was TRYING to believe.

And then a couple of days later something happens. I discover not one, not two, but three of my writing buds have agents/ deals! Yey for them. But now I’m feeling kind of small and lonely. My craft and ability to tell a story are in roughly the same ballpark, so how come I’m standing outside the party in the drizzle? (Admittedly, at this juncture I haven’t actually sent out any queries, which doesn’t help much.)

And while I’m standing there drenched and despondent and considering turning around and going home, I realize something. A thunder bolt moment. Think Kate Hudson outside the church in the rain, realizing her one true love is about to marry another girl, (even though he’s been in love with her like FOREVER, 'cos she’s been too blind to see she’s in love with him too. (Small aside—did you know Kate Hudson is Goldie Hawn’s daughter? Love that.)

Anyway, this is my moment, my realization. And it goes like this: You don’t have to be a genius to get a book published. I had a story that I believed was worth telling and I was going to get it out there NO MATTER WHAT. I’d done my time. I’d worked hard and tirelessly at improving my craft, and if I had to query every agent on the planet, I’d find someone who loved my story the way I loved it. (My first novel I queried about 30 agents. Got close, but ‘the call’ didn’t pan out and I put that manuscript aside.) The difference between me BEFORE and me AFTER life-changing-realization, was I’d decided this time I wasn’t taking no for an answer. I stopped questioning whether I was good enough, stopped repeating what everybody says about how hard it is to get an agent. Call me a New Age junkie if it makes you feel better, but I honestly think this made all the difference in the speed with which things happened from there.

Mid December I attend a small SCBWI conference. After participating in workshop an agent approaches me, says she likes my ideas and asks me to submit a partial of whatever I’ve got. I submit to her, and what the hell, I decide to submit to the other agent at the conference too. Ten days later I receive my first offer (yes, on a partial and on my first query!) I ask for time to finish revisions on my manuscript as I would like to discuss the full before we commit to each other. Said agent very generously agrees to wait. Meanwhile, I receive an enthusiastic request from second agent to send my full. Eeek. Hang on, almost finished! End of January the manuscript is ready to go and I send it out to both agents along with eight more queries. By early February I have a total of three offers and one of them is from an agent that is a perfect fit!

So if you want to get married i.e. agented, (mmm think I just made up a word, but I like it, let’s keep it,), my recommendation is decide NOW it will happen for you. You will do whatever it takes. And every time the doubt lurks, which inevitably it will, don’t feed it, bite it on the bum and slap it away.

Remember when you were fifteen, and there was that bossy girl in your class—chunky, big nose, thought she was IT—she still got plenty of guys, right?

Decide it . Own it. Work it baby. (Course it won’t hurt if you happen to be a literary genius.)

Bestselling Author, Claire Merle

(See what I did there? You’re smiling, right? OK, for those of you who are looking baffled, or—eeek—tutting and shaking your heads, answer the following questions: (The only answer allowed is YES.) Is my story worth telling? Have I studied the craft? Am I always striving to improve my writing? Will I send out queries? Will I nab a fab agent? Will my book be published? ‘Yes is the new No’ folks. Are you with me?)

‘The Glimpse’ can now be added to your goodreads wishlist: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/12367267-the-glimpse goodreads ~ facebook ~ twitter

Disclaimer: Deciding you will be a published author does not mean reality will never bash you about again. But it will help you give it a wallop back!

P.S. I am absolutely NOT a Romantic Comedy junkie…Well, maybe just a bit… All right, all right, I admit it—I am a total Romantic Comedy junkie.

How I Met and Charmed My Agent - Agent Story # 9

When I met my agent, Jamie Weiss Chilton of the Andrea Brown Literary Agency, I was drunk on crappy white wine and told her a story in which the use of the “C” word was absolutely essential.

Errrk!

Let me back up.

I met the fabulous and wise JWC at the Santa Barbara Writers conference three years ago. Or has it been four years? I can’t remember. Time keeps on slippin’ slippin’ slippin’, as the song says. I want to tell you I chose to attend the Santa Barbara Conference because I’d done my research on the agents and editors who would be there, and because that conference has an excellent YA track. But the truth is I went because it was a two-hour drive from L.A., and I wanted to spend a week in Santa Barbara.

At the time, I’d written a practice young adult novel, and was about halfway through writing my “for reals this time” young adult novel. I decided to pitch this uncompleted masterpiece during the conference’s pitchfest, and deal with the consequences if anyone actually asked for the book.

The day before the pitchfest there was an agent meet and greet, one of those wonderful events that are probably an agent’s worst nightmare. It was my worst nightmare, too. I didn’t know ANYONE at the conference. I showed up at the meet and greet and tried to avoid the crazy dude who’d locked on to me the first day. I stood in a corner and sipped my white wine. I don’t normally drink white wine because it makes me silly, but red wine stains my teeth, and on the off chance that I actually spoke to a single person during the conference, I didn’t want to scare him/her away with a purple smile.

Miraculously, a group of wonderful YA writers––who will get a special thank you on the acknowledgments page of my book––invited me to join them. I made friends! I didn’t care about meeting agents at that point, I was just so relieved to have been invited into the fold. I relaxed. I had another glass of white wine. And then another. I was lots of fun at that point. And then . . .

Turns out, the writers who’d adopted poor socially awkward me knew a few of the agents already. Our group merged with an agent group. I wasn’t nervous anymore. I was drinking white wine in the hot sun and I was downright gregarious. The YA writers introduced me to JWC. We talked. Or, I should say, I talked . . . at her . . . a lot.

I had another glass of white wine.

I told the story in which the use of the “C” word was absolutely essential.

I did not feel the least bit embarrassed about this until the next day, when I had to pitch my half-finished novel, STRUCK, to JWC with a white wine hangover hammering at my brain.

But, hey, she asked me to send her the first 50, and after she read that she asked for the rest of the novel. We did some revisions together, yada yada yada. She sent the book out April of 2010. It went to auction between 4 publishing houses a month later, and has gone to auction in Germany, and sold in several other countries.

I love my agent.

I have since told her many, many more scandalous stories . . . some of them fictional.