writing the heart of your story (25 page)

I say all this to make the point that growing up in a home that centered around writing and directing for television greatly influenced the way I approach storytelling. Ever since I learned the alphabet, I wrote stories. I even pitched my first script idea at age twelve to the producer of
The Girl from U.N.C.L.E
. Do you remember that show? (Okay just so you know, Stephanie Powers starred in it, and Ian Fleming was the consultant on the show and suggested the idea, but it only ran twenty-nine episodes before being canceled for low ratings. Maybe if they had bought my idea and wrote that script, it wouldn’t have failed. Hmm, I wonder . . .) I still have my very polite rejection letter—my first of many! It did help that my mother was a staff writer on the show and had “an in.” However, they didn’t buy my idea. But you can be sure of one thing—even at age twelve I presented my idea to the producer in a way he could easily visualize it as an episode. My young mind was already programmed to write cinematically.

So when I began writing novels decades later (although I promised my mother I would never be a writer, but that’s another story), it was only natural for me to construct all my scenes visually, the way I might see them play out on film. In fact, I couldn’t imagine writing any differently. I’m not surprised when I continually get comments from readers like, “I could so picture this book as a movie” or “this novel would make a great movie.” I believe they say these things not so much because they think my books are brilliant but because I write cinematically. Every scene is structured either consciously or unconsciously with a series of camera shots, so the reader will see the scene play out the way I see it.

I’m very familiar with the camera shots used—and as I mentioned before, you really are too. If you’ve watched a few TV shows or seen a few movies, you’re already familiar with what I’m going to share with you. What you don’t yet know, possibly, is how to transcribe what you see on the screen to the words on your pages. So I’m going to deconstruct movie technique by examining the camera shots one by one, and showing examples in novels in which the writer has effectively used a particular camera angle (or multiple angles) to create a supercharged scene.

Varieties of Camera Angles for Specific Effects

Screenplays are structured through the use of camera direction, which becomes all-important to telling the story. The choice of camera angles within a scene affects the mood, focus, and emphasis of the story being told, and directs the viewer to pay attention to particular elements unfolding. The right camera angle will give the best impact: you wouldn’t film a huge explosion using a Close-up but rather a Long Shot encompassing the wide scope of action. Writers, too, should think about not just the character POV (point of view) of a scene but the camera angles. Don’t leave it up to the reader to figure out what is important to notice. Put on your director’s hat and think what shots will focus on what’s important. By using these filming techniques to point your reader’s attention where you want it to go, you will get the results you want.

Don’t Be Boring

Most authors use the same angle in every scene, and that can be boring. What do I mean by “the same angle”? I mean that if there was a camera filming what was taking place in the scene, it would be set up in one spot and never move. It would never zoom in, PAN, pull back, or follow anyone. Is that bad? Not necessarily. You may have a scene that is solely in a character’s head—just her thinking. And maybe that’s a powerful scene because of the character and plot points revealed. But would you enjoy reading a book in which most of the scenes were like that? Probably not. In fact, if you read a few pages of explanation and internal thinking and nothing was happening (read: no real-time playing out of a scene you can visualize), you just might throw the book down and go get a bowl of ice cream to soothe your battered soul.

It’s Just Not Happening

Haven’t you read scenes where two people are sitting somewhere (and you’ve probably not been told where) and just talking? The dialog goes on for pages, and maybe some of it is interesting, but you can’t picture where these people are, what the setting is like, what they look like. Or maybe you have more description than you want—of the restaurant and their clothes and hair and the noise and smells inside. But still—nothing happens.

I’m not talking about physical action. And this is an important distinction. There can be a lot happening in a scene without a character even twitching. There can be heavy subtext, innuendo, clues, suspicions—all kinds of tension and plot reveals going on. But still, the scene can feel flat and a bit boring because it feels like the camera filming all this is stuck in one spot across the room.

This is not to say every scene needs to have your “camera” zooming and panning and doing gymnastics to keep your reader’s interest up. But once you see how you can bring in a variety of camera shots to your scenes—even the ones in which not much is happening—you will realize there are better ways to construct them to supercharge them.

Don’t settle for okay or boring or so-so. Think big impact. That’s what great directors do. And big impact doesn’t apply to just explosive scenes with high action. You can have a huge-impact small moment. A tiny element in your story can be key—the gripping pivot upon which your entire plot hinges—and by using the right camera shots, you can play up that subtle bit and blow it up to the size it should be. High-impact moments, regardless of how subtle, should “fill the entire screen.” And I’ll show you how it can be done.

The Art of Film Editing

Have you ever watched old black-and-white movies? I’m thinking in particular of those great Fred Astaire musicals full of amazing dance routines. Sometime, go watch a few and pay attention to the camera shot. Back in the day, film editing was kept to a minimum. It was expensive, tedious work. Film editors had to literally cut and splice pieces of film together, which was tricky to do seamlessly. Because of this, most of those great dance numbers are one long shot from one camera, without interruptions, without slicing and dicing. Not like what’s done today. It makes me wonder how many takes Fred and Ginger had to do to get one good keeper shot. I get tired just thinking about all those fast, nifty steps.

Today editing is a highly praised art form, and with the current tech is much easier and versatile. A film editor must creatively work with the layers of images, story, dialogue, music, pacing, as well as the actors’ performances to effectively "re-imagine" and even rewrite the film to craft a cohesive whole. Editors usually play a dynamic role in the making of a film. Walter Murch once said, “Film editing is now something almost everyone can do at a simple level and enjoy it, but to take it to a higher level requires the same dedication and persistence that any art form does.”

The editing in film often goes unnoticed. However, if one does not notice the editing, then it is doing its job. The editor works on the subconscious of the viewer, and if you think about it, writers do the same when they write a novel. Editors are awarded Academy Awards, and maybe you’ve wondered why, but I don’t.

Now, you may think it really odd, but knowing my background, you should understand when I say one of the things I pay the most attention to when I watch a movie (and comment on to my husband—to which he can attest!) is the editing. I feel the editing is what makes the movie. A terrifically edited movie scores more points in my book than a well-written one. I am enthralled when I watch a beautifully edited movie, when all the cuts of the various camera shots are pieced together like a symphony.

One movie that comes to mind is
Inception
. There are sequences in that movie that are edited to show reality unfolding on three different dream levels all at the same time. It is masterfully done. If you’ve watched the opening scene of
Saving Private Ryan
and you felt like your heart was being ripped out, much of that was due to the brilliant, powerful editing. Although I could barely view the painful images on the screen (and I’m glad I saw it on my small TV and not in a theater), I can’t forget specific camera angles used, such as the shot taken from the seaward side of the landing craft looking toward the beach as the Allied soldiers try to disembark and are mowed down with machine-gun fire, many while still in the boat, the water turning red as bodies keep falling.

In contrast, a movie with boring editing will tend to show boring scenes that feel flat or choppy or lacking spark.

Yes, Another Hat

If you haven’t figured out by now where I’m going with this, I hope you won’t be surprised to have me tell you that, yes, you also need to wear that editor’s hat. I don’t mean the “book” kind of editor, like me, but the movie kind I mentioned above—the person who takes the film of all the raw footage of the shot scenes and pieces it together in not just the right order but in a specific sequence.

Think about it. Each scene in a movie or TV show is not just shot from one angle; it’s shot from many. There are close shots in which you see one character’s face and the back of another’s head. There are stationary shots taken from different angles, as well as numerous moving shots taken from different angles. You may have an aerial shot, some long shots, some tilted ones, some tracking shots done with the camera moving along on a dolly. The director will make clear which shots he wants. He then, along with various producers and others, will work with the film editor to choose which shots to use in a scene, and like a jigsaw puzzle will (hopefully) seamlessly put it together so it flows without lagging, as well as provides just the right tension and pacing needed.

It’s not easy. And novelists have to do exactly the same thing. They have to not only “shoot” their scenes, they have to choose the camera angles, and then piece it all together in a way that fits their genre and story, and keeps the pacing going at the speed needed to engage the reader. A novel set in Victorian England showing the characters having tea and discussing suitable marriage prospects (not my cup of tea) should have different camera shots and entirely different editing than a suspense thriller in which the protagonist has to save the world before the ticking bomb explodes.

CUT TO: An Important Point

I want to say “cut” here to emphasize something I need to talk about and will reiterate throughout this book, and that’s the importance of being aware of the “high moment” of each of your scenes. This is what good directors know. Before they shoot that scene on their shooting schedule for the day, they are thinking about that instant (whether it will last a few seconds or even a minute) the scene is building to.

Without going into a treatise about scene construction (which I do in my book
Writing the Heart of Your Story
), suffice it to say each scene must have a point to it or it shouldn’t be in your novel. If you have scenes with no “point,” you need to either give them a point or throw them out. Too many writers write too many scenes with no point to them. Filmmaker Gustav Mercado says to create powerful impact, the technical elements, compositional choices, and narrative content should all work in context to create meaning. Without meaning, what is the point of telling your story?

Ever seen a movie that left you scratching your head? A movie with scenes that had no point to them, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why they were in the movie at all? Same thing. Someone should have cut those scenes out or rewritten them, you think. Maybe you’ve said that about scenes you’ve read in some novels too. Hopefully no one has said that about your novels, but if they have, you can fix that. How? By making sure you have a high moment you are building to.

A high moment doesn’t have to be a huge moment. Remember, what’s significant to a reader is what impacts the character. Just a single word can pack a punch in a scene, and often does. A beautifully delivered line of dialog can be more explosive than blowing up the Statue of Liberty. Great movie directors know this too. As actress Rosalind Russell said, what makes a great movie is “moments.” And in order to write supercharged scenes that utilize specific camera shots, you have to know what moment you are building to. Just keep that in mind.

A String of Shots Equals a Scene

Movies are made up of a string of shot sequences—don’t confuse these with whole scenes. In creating a shot sequence, the aim of using a camera is to imitate the way the human mind uses the eyes. Our minds will not let our eyes stay fixed on any one subject for more than four or five seconds. Our eyes are constantly moving and focusing on different subjects.

For example, you may be walking down the street and you come across two of your friends having a small picnic at one of the tables in the city park at the corner. Your mind will probably direct your eyes into the following views of the couple:

* First, you would have a Wide-Angle or Long Shot of the entire scene.

* As you walk toward the couple, you will look at one person, and then the other.

* As you come closer, you might shift your focus and look at what is on the table.

* Your next glance will probably be at the first person who speaks to you.

* As the conversation continues, your eyes will shift from person to person, from person to table, from an action of one person to that person’s face etc., etc. The combinations could be endless.