The Eight Rules for Writing Screen-to-Print

 

You read that title right. It means screenplay writing rules for writing a book.

We live a new literary world of 140 character Twitter, personal Facebook dispatches and USA Today snappy prose. The reading audiences of the New York Times who enjoyed reading ‘literature’ has rapidly declined with their subscribers. Or to paraphrase Elmore Leonard, “Literary fiction is when they leave in the boring parts that everybody skips.”

Or to put it another way:

Literary fiction is the fiction of ideas. Its primary purpose is to evoke thought. The writer’s goal is self-expression. Any consideration of the reader—if one exists at all—is purely secondary.

Popular fiction is the fiction of emotion. Its primary purpose is to evoke feelings. The writer’s goal is to entertain the reader. Any consideration of self-expression—if one exists at all—is purely secondary.

One can still hope to write the Great American Novel but if you want to make writing your career – you have to make money. Many experts on writing agree that if revenue is what you seek, then you must write for markets – not for prosperity. Pursue a writing career not so much for fame but for fortune.

I suggest writing stories that are screen-to-print.

So how is that done? What RULES apply?

 To do that we need to talk Hemingway.

After he finished “The Old Man and the Sea,” Hemingway wrote his brother, Leichester, telling him that he did not think there was single wasted word in the book. He may be right. The story is a lean, powerful tale. So lean that it may well be the only book ever written to have very nearly every scene transposed into the film version.

So here is rule NUMBER ONE – Think movie scenes and not chapters.  Write the story in such a way as how it would look on the big screen. What I am saying is that we can all learn something from Hemingway.

He had some tips for writing well. Use short sentences, use short first paragraphs, (I would add all your paragraphs should be short, sweet and to the point), use vigorous language, say what something is rather than what it isn’t. He learned this style when working as a newspaper reporter.

If you’ve spent any time on the writing discussion boards, you’ll see that the majority of comments about writing style seem to fall into two groups. Those that believe the flowery prose of the literati is real writing and those that feel authors should write to be marketable and choose to eschew obfuscation. Now there are those who believe that paragraphs and even pages of narrative are necessary for successful story telling.

I don’t.

Which brings us to the next set of rules writing Screen-to-Print.

Rule NUMBER TWO. Show. Don’t Tell. Telling is abstract, passive and less involving of the reader. It slows down your pacing, takes away your action and pulls your reader out of your story.

Showing, however, is active and concrete – creating mental images that brings your story and your characters — to life. When you hear about writing that is vivid, evocative and strong, chances are there’s plenty of showing in it. Showing is interactive and encourages the reader to participate in the reading experience by drawing her own conclusions.

Dan Brown’s ‘The Symbol’ suffers from the fate of telling not showing. One critic said he could have cut out 20% of the narrative or chapters and it wouldn’t hurt the story.

So, why is’ showing’ so important to Screen-to-Print?

90% of a screenplay is ‘showing’ – that is, dialogue. There is very little narrative in a screenplay. Very little telling. Except for a few short paragraphs before certain scenes to paint the environment and the mood of the characters, the vast majority of a screenplay is dialogue.  The dialogue tells the story.

You have to tell the story through dialogue.

Rule NUMBER THREE. Start your scene in the MIDDLE of the action or start with a dialogue as frequently as you can. A novel should start off by drawing the reader into it right away and give them a hint of mystery of what is to come.  I use the device of Prologue in my novels to do this.  This breaks another cardinal rule. Editors and publishers claim they don’t like Prologues. I think they can be used to grab the reader’s attention before the actual story starts.

‘Show-Don’t Tell’ types of stories are looked down upon by the literati but I believe that today’s reader – the USA Today and Twitter generation – is not looking for tombs of literature but a quick and entertaining read. Even Michael Crichton honed this down in his later novels. His books were written is such a way that they could easily be turned into screenplays.

There are times where several paragraphs of narrative are necessary to get the story out but always ask yourself first, “Can I SHOW this information instead of TELLING it – and WHEN can I do it?”

Rule NUMBER FOUR. Try to create friction, tension or conflict in every scene – good movies do that. One of the most important elements is the use of conflict and tension.

To quote Tina Morgan:

“Inserting conflict into your novel is not quite as simple as inserting a fist-fight into the storyline. Conflict in fiction can be as diverse and as individual as you are. It can also be used effectively to heightened tension and increase suspense.”

Is your character in enough danger from one chapter to the next? Danger can take many different forms. The easiest and most obvious is the physical danger. Don’t forget to use emotional danger. You as the writer have a moral responsibility to torture these characters as much as you can. Pile on the emotional danger along with the physical.

Analyze a movie – any movie. The best ones that hold your attention are those that know how to put conflict and tension into EVERY scene – even those used for exposition. You know — those boring scenes necessary to get information out.

Don’t leave a finished chapter – or what I call scenes – without re-reading it looking for the inclusion of conflict or tension.

Rule NUMBER FIVE. Write conversationally and kill the semi-colon. Write like you speak – ‘style’ be damned! Or in the words of Dorothy Parker:

“If you have any young friends who aspire to become writers, the second greatest favor you can do them is to present them with copies of The Elements of Style. The first greatest, of course, is to shoot them now, while they’re happy.”

Rule NUMBER SIX. Plot of course drives the story. But what drives the plot? Characters do. In general, you come up with a story idea. Then outline the major plot points that unfold your story idea. This is called a wireframe of your story.

Character behavior drives plot, which drives character behavior. So your next step is to hang the character experiences and behavior on the wire frame of the plot aiming for the sequencing of their experiences to match up with the overall scenes of the plot. If you’re able to do this, then you have a story. All you need to do is fill in the details of each scene.

Rule NUMBER SEVEN. The reversal or the All-Is-Lost-Moment.

Watch movies as they moves along. There is a point where the story is working fine for the hero or heroine – then BAM!!  Everything goes to hell for the main character! Two-thirds through the movie there’s this reversal. You can see reversals in romantic comedies too. In fact they are almost always there.

Everything seems to going the hero’s way when all of a sudden, a sub plot appears that threatens to send the hero and his objective into the crap can.

Another example of this is the All-Is-Lost-Moment where it looks like everything is lost. Then the hero resurrects himself. This challenge if faced and the movie then hurtle to its climax. This is important in a novel, too. This challenge if faced and the movie then hurtle to its climax.

Rule NUMBER EIGHT. The Dismissal. Have you ever read a story, following a character through the pages then – they disappear! The reader asks,” What happened to that guy or girl?” Except for the characters that are used one time in a story, your other characters need to be dismissed – that is – have their activities come to a satisfying end. You can’t leave them hanging out there. You need to end their lives or finish their relationships. If you thought out each of you continuing character’s role in moving the plot forward, you will ensure that you have a logical plot structure.

So there you go. Follow these EIGHT rules of screen-to-print and you will have a very readable and enjoyable story where the reader will feel his or her investment in time and money were worth it.

And if you’re up for it – you have a ready made screenplay from your book.

This post is contributed as a Guest post By Author Frank Fiore

 

Story Structure

 For more information about this valuable series see:

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 For more information about this Story Structure: 7 Narrative Structures All Writers Should Know

Nothing makes the challenging task of writing a novel feel more attainable than adopting a story structure to help you plot your narrative.

While using a pre-existing blueprint might make you worry about ending up with a formulaic, predictable story, you can probably analyze most of your favorite books using various narrative structures that writers have been using for decades (if not centuries)!

This post will reveal seven distinct story structures that any writer can use to build a compelling narrative. But first…

What is narrative structure?

Story structure, also known as narrative structure, is the order in which events are organized into a beginning, middle, and ending in a novel. A story’s structure directly affects the way the plot unfolds and how its driving forces (characters, obstacles, setting, etc.) are introduced to the reader.

Tightly controlled narrative structure results in all the reader’s questions being answered, provides a climax followed by resolution and information at the end of the story, furthers the characters’ development, and unravels any central conflicts. In other words, structuring the plot well creates a satisfying narrative experience that accomplishes the author’s aims.

Structure helps writers draw connections between ‘things that happen’ and ‘things that matter.’ A tale about two vastly different people falling in love can also be about the value of compromise. An account of a person who robs a bank can become an examination of greed, loyalty, or the failure of the American Dream.

Writers can turn to story theory and narrative structure whenever their story just isn’t working; when they feel that their writing is awkward, aimless, or — worst of all — boring. Writing is an art, but if there’s one part of the craft that’s closer to science, this would be it. Become a master of story structure, and you will have the world at your feet.

Basic story structure

When people discuss different story structures, they’re often talking about the different frameworks used to analyze stories. When you boil them all down, all stories have certain shared elements. 

• The status quo. The protagonist is living some kind of ‘normal life’ but has a greater desire or goal. This is usually the first part of the story — but not always.
• An inciting incident. Sometimes called a catalyst, this is an event that sets the story in motion, forcing the protagonist out of their comfort zone.
• Rising action. The protagonist pursues their goal and is tested along the way.
• An all-is-lost moment. The protagonist believes they have failed.
• A resolution. The protagonist a) gets what they want, b) doesn’t get what they want, or c) doesn’t get what they want, but realizes that they have something that’s more important.

These are all common ‘beats’ to most stories. It can be easier to see these moments in genres with higher stakes (such as a military thriller), but you’ll find them in almost any type of story. 

Even in something as seemingly mild as a rural romance, there will be rising action as our heroes tentatively fall in love and an all-is-lost moment where it seems like they will never get together (before they inevitably do). Without these steps, there is no conflict and, therefore, no story — merely a series of events that will struggle to keep a reader interested.

Seven story structures every writer should know

Now that we’ve established the most essential components of story, let’s look at seven of the most popular story structures used by writers — and how they deploy these components.

1. Freytag's Pyramid
2. The Hero's Journey
3. Three Act Structure
4. Dan Harmon's Story Circle
5. Fichtean Curve
6. Save the Cat Beat Sheet
7. Seven-Point Story Structure

Revealed: Seven story structures every writer needs to know!

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1. Freytag’s Pyramid

Named after a 19th-century German novelist and playwright, Freytag’s Pyramid is a five-point dramatic structure that’s based on the classical Greek tragedies of Sophocles, Aeschylus, and Euripedes.

Structure

• Introduction. The status quo is established; an inciting incident occurs.
• Rise, or rising action. The protagonist actively pursues their goal. The stakes heighten.
• Climax. A point of no return, from which the protagonist can no longer go back to the status quo.
• Return, or fall. In the aftermath of the climax, tension builds, and the story heads inevitably towards...
• Catastrophe. The protagonist is brought to their lowest point. Their greatest fears have come true.

This structural model is less frequently used in modern storytelling, partly due to readers’ limited appetite for tragic narratives (although you can still spot a few tragic heroes in popular literature today). By and large, commercial fiction, films, and television will see a protagonist overcome their obstacles to find some small measure of success. That said, it’s still useful to understand the Pyramid as a foundational structure in Western literature — and you will still see it occasionally in the most depressing contemporary tales.

To learn more, read our full guide on Freytag’s Pyramid.

2. The Hero’s Journey

Inspired by Joseph Campbell’s concept of the monomyth — a storytelling pattern that recurs in mythology all over the world — The Hero’s Journey is today’s best-known story structure. Some attribute its popularity to George Lucas, whose Star Wars was heavily influenced by Campbell’s The Hero With a Thousand Faces.

Luke Skywalker, a hero with a thousand faces. (Image: Lucasfilm)

Campbell’s original structure uses terminology that lends itself well to epic tales of bravery and triumph — with plot points like “Belly of the Whale,” “Woman as the Temptress,” and “The Magic Flight.” To make The Hero’s Journey more accessible, Disney executive Christopher Vogler created a simplified version that has become popular amongst mainstream storytellers.

Here, we’ll look at Vogler’s streamlined, 12-step version of The Hero’s Journey.

Structure

1. The Ordinary World. The hero’s everyday life is established.
2. The Call of Adventure. Otherwise known as the inciting incident.
3. Refusal of the Call. For a moment, the hero is reluctant to take on the challenge.
4. Meeting the Mentor. Our hero meets someone who prepares them for what lies ahead — perhaps a parental figure, a teacher, a wizard, or a wise hermit.
5. Crossing the First Threshold. The hero steps out of their comfort zone and enters a ‘new world.’
6. Tests, Allies, Enemies. Our protagonist faces new challenges — and maybe picks up some new friends. Think of Dorothy on the Yellow Brick Road.
7. Approach to the Inmost Cave. The hero gets close to their goal. Luke Skywalker reaches the Death Star.
8. The Ordeal. The hero meets (and overcomes) their greatest challenge yet.
9. Reward (Seizing the Sword). The hero obtains something important they were after, and victory is in sight.
10. The Road Back. The hero realizes that achieving their goal is not the final hurdle. In fact, ‘seizing the sword’ may have made things worse for them.
11. Resurrection. The hero faces their final challenge — a climactic test that hinges on everything they’ve learned over their journey.
12. Return with the Elixir. Having triumphed, our protagonist returns to their old life. Dorothy returns to Kansas; Iron Man holds a press conference to blow his own trumpet.

While Vogler’s simplified steps still retain some of Campbell’s mythological language with its references to swords and elixirs, the framework can be applied to almost any genre of fiction. To see how a ‘realistic’ story can adhere to this structure, check out our guide to the hero’s journey in which we analyze Rocky through this very lens.

3. Three Act Structure

Following the old adage that “every story has a beginning, middle, and end,” this popular structure splits a story’s components into three distinct acts: Setup, Confrontation, and Resolution. In many ways, the three-act structure reworks The Hero’s Journey, with slightly less exciting labels.

Structure

Act 1: Setup

• Exposition. The status quo or ‘ordinary world’ is established.
• Inciting Incident. An event that sets the story in motion.
• Plot Point One. The protagonist decides to tackle the challenge head-on. She ‘crosses the threshold,’ and the story is now truly moving.

Act 2: Confrontation

• Rising Action. The story's true stakes become clear; our hero grows familiar with her ‘new world’ and has her first encounters with some enemies and allies. (see Tests, Allies, Enemies)
• Midpoint. An event that upends the protagonist’s mission. (Similar to the climax in Freytag’s pyramid)
• Plot Point Two. In the wake of the disorienting midpoint, the protagonist is tested — and fails. Her ability to succeed is now in doubt.

Act 3: Resolution

• Pre Climax. The night is darkest before dawn. The protagonist must pull herself together and choose between decisive action and failure.
• Climax. She faces off against her antagonist one last time. Will she prevail?
• Denouement. All loose ends are tied up. The reader discovers the consequences of the climax. A new status quo is established.

When we speak about a confrontation with an antagonist, this doesn’t always mean a fight to the death. In some cases, the antagonist might be a love rival, a business competitor, or merely an internal or environmental conflict that our protagonist has been struggling with the entire story.

If you’re interested in using this model to plot your own story, read our guide to the three-act structure, and be sure to sign up to our free course on the subject.

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4. Dan Harmon's Story Circle

Another variation on Campbell’s monomyth structure, the Story Circle is an approach developed by Rick and Morty co-creator Dan Harmon. Again, heavily inspired by the Hero's Journey, the benefit of Harmon's approach is its focus on the protagonist's character arc. Instead of referring to abstract concepts like 'story midpoint' and 'denouement', each beat in the story circle forces the writer to think about the character's wants and needs.

Structure

1. A character is in a zone of comfort... This is the establishment of the status quo.
2. But they want something... This 'want' could be something long-standing and brought to the fore by an inciting incident.
3. They enter an unfamiliar situation... The protagonist must do something new in their pursuit of the thing they want.
4. Adapt to it... Faced with some challenges, they struggle then begin to succeed.
5. Get what they wanted... Usually a false victory.
6. Pay a heavy price for it... They realize that what they 'wanted' wasn't what they 'needed'.
7. Then return to their familiar situation... armed with a new truth.
8. Having changed... For better or worse.

Created by a writer whose chosen medium is the 30-minute sitcom, this structure is worded in a way that sidesteps the need for a protagonist to undergo life-changing transformations with each story. After all, for a comedy to continue for six seasons (and a movie) its characters can't completely transform at the end of each episode. They can, however, learn small truths about themselves and the world around them — which, like all humans, they can quickly forget about if next week's episode calls for it.

To learn more and see this structure applied to an episode of Rick and Morty, check out our full post on Dan Harmon's Story Circle.

Side note: for this kind of character-driven plot (and, indeed, for all of these structures), you're going to want to know you're protagonist inside and out. Why not check out some of our character development exercises for help fleshing your characters out, like the profile template below.

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Reedsy’s Character Profile Template

A story is only as strong as its characters. Fill this out to develop yours.

5. Fichtean Curve

Fleshed out in John Gardner’s The Art of Fiction, the Fichtean Curve is a narrative structure that puts our main characters through a series of many obstacles on their way to achieving their overarching goals. Resembling Freytag’s Pyramid, it encourages authors to write narratives packed with tension and mini-crises that keep readers eager to reach the climax.

Bypassing the “ordinary world” setup of many other structures, the Fichtean Curve starts with the inciting incident and goes straight into the rising action. Multiple crises occur, each of which contributes to the readers’ overall understanding of the narrative — replacing the need for the initial exposition.

Structure

To discuss this unusual structure, it’s perhaps best to see it in use. We’ll use Celeste Ng’s Everything I Never Told You as an example. Needless to say, spoilers ahead.

Rising Action

• Inciting incident. The novel begins with the line: “Lydia is dead. But they don’t know this yet.” Within the first three paragraphs, Marilyn realizes that her daughter Lydia is missing. Thus, readers are thrown straight into rising action as Marilyn anxiously searches all the usual places Lydia might be found.
• First crisis. Lydia’s family is informed her body was found in a nearby lake. From this first crisis's climax, the narrative flashes back to provide exposition and details of the family’s history.
• Second crisis. In flashbacks, we discover that, 11 years prior, Marilyn abandoned her family to resume her undergraduate studies. In her absence, the family begins to fall apart. Marilyn learns she is pregnant and is forced to return home. Having lost her opportunity for further education, she places the pressure of academic success on her children.
• Third crisis. Back in the present, Lydia’s father, James, is cheating on Marilyn. The police decide to close the investigation, ruling Lydia’s death a suicide. This results in a massive argument between her parents, and James leaves to stay with the “other woman.”
• Fourth crisis. Flashback to the day Lydia died. From her perspective, we see that she’s misunderstood by her parents. She mourns her brother’s impending departure for college, leaving her as the sole focus of her parents’ pressure. Isolated, she tries to seduce a friend — who rejects her advances and explains he’s in love with her brother.

Climax

• Lydia takes a boat into the lake in the middle of the night — determined to overcome her fear of water and reclaim control of her life. Lydia jumps off the boat, into the water, and out of this life. As in a classical tragedy, this moment is both devastating and inevitable.

Falling Action

• Some level of resolution is achieved, and readers get to at least glimpse the “new norm” for the characters. Lydia’s family lean on one another in their grief. While they may never be able to make their amends with Lydia, they can learn from her death. Not all of the loose ends are tied off, but readers infer the family is on the long road to recovery.

Note: In the rising action stage, all of the crises should build tension towards — and correspond with — the story’s major climax. Like the three-act narrative structure, the Fichtean Curve’s climax typically occurs two-thirds through the book.

While this structure lends itself well to flashback-heavy novels such as Everything I Never Told You, it is also incredibly common in theatre. In stage plays like The Cherry Orchard and A Doll’s House, the action takes place in a fixed time and place, but backstory and character development are revealed through moments of high drama that occur before the audience’s eyes.

For a deeper look at this structure, head to our full post on the Fichtean Curve.

6. Save the Cat Beat Sheet

Another variation of the three-act structure, this framework created by Hollywood screenwriter Blake Snyder, has been widely championed by storytellers across many media forms.

Fun fact: Save the Cat is named for a moment in the set up of a story (usually a film) where our hero does something to endear himself to the audience.

While many structures are reluctant to prescribe exactly when in a story the various beats should take place, Snyder and Save the Cat have no such qualms. The number in the square brackets below refers to the page that the beat should take place — assuming you’re writing a 110-page screenplay.

Structure

1. Opening Image [1]. The first shot of the film. If you’re starting a novel, this would be an opening paragraph or scene that sucks readers into the world of your story.
2. Set-up [1-10]. Establishing the ‘ordinary world’ of your protagonist. What does he want? What is he missing out on?
3. Theme Stated [5]. During the setup, hint at what your story is really about — the truth that your protagonist will discover by the end.
4. Catalyst [12]. The inciting incident!
5. Debate [12-25]. The hero refuses the call to adventure. He tries to avoid the conflict before they are forced into action.
6. Break into Two [25]. The protagonist makes an active choice and the journey begins in earnest.
7. B Story [30]. A subplot kicks in. Often romantic in nature, the protagonist’s subplot should serve to highlight the theme.
8. The Promise of the Premise [30-55]. Often called the ‘fun and games’ stage, this is usually a highly entertaining section where the writer delivers the goods. If you promised an exciting detective story, we’d see the detective in action. If you promised a goofy story of people falling in love, let’s go on some charmingly awkward dates.
9. Midpoint [55]. A plot twist occurs that ups the stakes and makes the hero’s goal harder to achieve — or makes them focus on a new, more important goal.
10. Bad Guys Close In [55-75]. The tension ratchets up. The hero’s obstacles become greater, his plan falls apart, and he is on the back foot.
11. All is Lost [75]. The hero hits rock bottom. He loses everything he’s gained so far, and things are looking bleak. The hero is overpowered by the villain; a mentor dies; our lovebirds have an argument and break up.
12. Dark Night of the Soul [75-85-ish]. Having just lost everything, the hero shambles around the city in a minor-key musical montage before discovering some “new information” that reveals exactly what he needs to do if he wants to take another crack at success. (This new information is often delivered through the B-Story)
13. Break into Three [85]. Armed with this new information, our protagonist decides to try once more!
14. Finale [85-110]. The hero confronts the antagonist or whatever the source of the primary conflict is. The truth that eluded him at the start of the story (established in step three and accentuated by the B Story) is now clear, allowing him to resolve their story.
15. Final Image [110]. A final moment or scene that crystallizes how the character has changed. It’s a reflection, in some way, of the opening image.

Some writers may find this structure too prescriptive, but it’s incredible to see how many mainstream stories seem to adhere to it — either by design or coincidence. Over on the Save the Cat website, there are countless examples of films and novels analyzed with Snyder’s 15 beats. You’ll be surprised how accurate some of the timings are for each of the beats.

For a deeper dive into this framework, and to watch this video where Reedsy’s Shaelin plots out a Middle-Grade fantasy novel using Snyder’s method — head to our full post on the Save the Cat Beat Sheet.

7. Seven-Point Story Structure

A slightly less detailed adaptation of The Hero’s Journey, the Seven-Point Story Structure focuses specifically on the highs and lows of a narrative arc.

According to author Dan Wells, who developed the Seven-Point Story Structure, writers are encouraged to start at the end, with the resolution, and work their way back to the starting point: the hook. With the ending in mind, they can have their protagonist and plot begin in a state that best contrasts the finale — since this structure is all about dramatic changes from beginning to end.

Structure

1. The Hook. Draw readers in by explaining the protagonist’s current situation. Their state of being at the beginning of the novel should be in direct contrast to what it will be at the end of the novel.
2. Plot Point 1. Whether it’s a person, an idea, an inciting incident, or something else — there should be a "Call to Adventure" of sorts that sets the narrative and character development in motion.
3. Pinch Point 1. Things can’t be all sunshine and roses for your protagonist. Something should go wrong here that applies pressure to the main character, forcing them to step up and solve the problem.
4. Midpoint. A “Turning Point” wherein the main character changes from a passive force to an active force in the story. Whatever the narrative’s main conflict is, the protagonist decides to start meeting it head-on.
5. Pinch Point 2. The second pinch point involves another blow to the protagonist — things go even more awry than they did during the first pinch point. This might involve the passing of a mentor, the failure of a plan, the reveal of a traitor, etc.
6. Plot Point 2. After the calamity of Pinch Point 2, the protagonist learns that they’ve actually had the key to solving the conflict the whole time.
7. Resolution. The story’s primary conflict is resolved — and the character goes through the final bit of development necessary to transform them from who they were at the start of the novel.

For a deeper look into Wells's approach — including the key to using it — check out our full post on the seven-point story structure.

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We've said it before, and we'll say it again: story structures aren't an exact science, and you should feel welcome to stray from the path they present. They're simply there to help you find your narrative's footing — a blueprint for the world you're about to start building.