Hi there! Long time reader of your tweet threads and now your substack posts. As someone who came up and has staffed on procedurals, I loved reading this. When I was a writer's assistant, one of our co-eps brought us into the room and pointed to the board and said if you could write this (a crime drama) you could write anything. Because the structure of these kinds of stories is the the basic structure that underpins all dramatic writing. She was basically saying: pay attention. It was great advice! And the show was a great lesson in dramatic storytelling for all the reasons you outline above. ... that scene with Walt and the corrupt social worker is an all-timer. I have made many writer friends watch that scene even if they've never seen the show. Anyway, thanks for the thoughtful post! -Erica
Damn, Tony, you're setting a high summit for a simple author studying each segment of your blog and learning the lessons you have learned. Having watched the episodes of Longmire at least twice, and actually lived in the west all my life, I understand. Converting this experience into gripping novels is my current challenge.
I have opened a dialogue with an Ohkay Owingeh story teller, I hope to learn from him also.
"Every key decision a character makes needs to be grounded in real psychology and human emotions and simple motivations, even if the consequences of those actions end up creating endless complications."
In light of this point, I'm curious how you view characters whose psychology and motivations are black boxed or purposely left mysterious. Examples coming to mind would be characters like Anton Chigur, or the serial killer in Imamura's VENGEANCE IS MINE. I mean, I guess at a certain level, their goals are always somewhat clear: Chigur wants the money, wants to find Llewelyn Moss. But that doesn't really account for the way he goes about things, the coin, the various killings and the code they suggest. Imamura's serial killer is perhaps even more opaque. He kills. He wants to kill. That's clear enough. Why does he want to kill? The film's reporters, like the audience, are desperate to know. But Imamura is as resistant as the killer himself to providing an answer.
Are examples like these exceptions that provide their own writerly challenges, or do they fit in some other way into the question of clear motivation? (Like, perhaps every good character has clear motivations on an immediate level but remains mysterious at other levels?)
I'm going to print this off and add it to my "Writing Rules" notebook of great advice I've compiled about screenwriting and storytelling. I think this is your best post yet, and it's better than the stuff you find in most how-to writing books. I'm taking a final pass through one original pilot after getting notes from my director sister, while doing heavy edits on another and ideating for a third. This is invaluable. Thank you.
Hi there! Long time reader of your tweet threads and now your substack posts. As someone who came up and has staffed on procedurals, I loved reading this. When I was a writer's assistant, one of our co-eps brought us into the room and pointed to the board and said if you could write this (a crime drama) you could write anything. Because the structure of these kinds of stories is the the basic structure that underpins all dramatic writing. She was basically saying: pay attention. It was great advice! And the show was a great lesson in dramatic storytelling for all the reasons you outline above. ... that scene with Walt and the corrupt social worker is an all-timer. I have made many writer friends watch that scene even if they've never seen the show. Anyway, thanks for the thoughtful post! -Erica
Damn, Tony, you're setting a high summit for a simple author studying each segment of your blog and learning the lessons you have learned. Having watched the episodes of Longmire at least twice, and actually lived in the west all my life, I understand. Converting this experience into gripping novels is my current challenge.
I have opened a dialogue with an Ohkay Owingeh story teller, I hope to learn from him also.
Thanks for your insights.
Also: "constant red herrings lose their impact with overuse."
In a nutshell: https://youtu.be/GH480F3pNkE
"Every key decision a character makes needs to be grounded in real psychology and human emotions and simple motivations, even if the consequences of those actions end up creating endless complications."
In light of this point, I'm curious how you view characters whose psychology and motivations are black boxed or purposely left mysterious. Examples coming to mind would be characters like Anton Chigur, or the serial killer in Imamura's VENGEANCE IS MINE. I mean, I guess at a certain level, their goals are always somewhat clear: Chigur wants the money, wants to find Llewelyn Moss. But that doesn't really account for the way he goes about things, the coin, the various killings and the code they suggest. Imamura's serial killer is perhaps even more opaque. He kills. He wants to kill. That's clear enough. Why does he want to kill? The film's reporters, like the audience, are desperate to know. But Imamura is as resistant as the killer himself to providing an answer.
Are examples like these exceptions that provide their own writerly challenges, or do they fit in some other way into the question of clear motivation? (Like, perhaps every good character has clear motivations on an immediate level but remains mysterious at other levels?)
I'm going to print this off and add it to my "Writing Rules" notebook of great advice I've compiled about screenwriting and storytelling. I think this is your best post yet, and it's better than the stuff you find in most how-to writing books. I'm taking a final pass through one original pilot after getting notes from my director sister, while doing heavy edits on another and ideating for a third. This is invaluable. Thank you.