FOCUS ON THE IDEA - Erik Bork...The Idea:: the SEVEN ELEMENTS: of a VIABLE STORY: for SCREEN, STAGE,: or FICTION Author Erik Bork Created Date 20180904201205Z ...

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FOCUS ON THE IDEA

When a writer finishes a script, they generallyunderstand that it’s time to get feedback on it,

preferably from objective professionals—or others who areknowledgeable and serious about the craft—who will givethem their unvarnished opinion, hard as that might beto hear.

What they usually don’t do is seek out the same sortof feedback on their idea for a story before they spendmonths or years writing it. But that’s the point at whichthey have the most leverage over what the finished productwill look like. That’s when they’re making the most impor-tant creative decisions about it that they will ever make.

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Why don’t they? Maybe they’re worried about theiridea getting stolen. Beginning writers often obsess overthis, whereas professionals rarely give it a second thought.While it’s true that one can’t copyright a one- or two-sentence idea for a story (as opposed to its specific expres-sion in a longer document like an outline or script), it’s alsotrue that ideas are rarely stolen, and even if they were, theywould usually lead to very different scripts from the onethe original writer would have written.

But I think the bigger reason is that for most writers,idea generation and evaluation is a painful and amorphousprocess, and it seems like nothing is really happen-ing—until they’re writing scenes, or at least structuring astory. Playing with story ideas doesn’t feel like “writing.”But it is—and it’s the most crucial part of the process.

Agents and managers who represent professional (ornear-professional) writers understand this and insist thattheir clients run their ideas past them before they committo writing. They will shoot down most of them, and typi-cally have lots of notes on the ones they don’t, because theyknow they can’t sell something if it’s not based on a reallystrong idea. And they don’t want their clients wasting timewriting a script that is flawed from the get-go.

As a screenwriter, I have ignored this fact at my ownperil. And as a mentor to other writers, I have seen how

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universal this problem is. Of the hundreds of scripts I’veread from writers who haven’t worked professionally yet,virtually all of them had a central idea that wassignificantly flawed in terms of the principles I lay out inthis book. Meaning that if I had heard the idea before theystarted writing it, I would’ve tried to convince them torethink it in a significant way. Ninety percent of my mostimportant “notes” or criticisms on a script are concerns Iwould have voiced about the basic idea if they’d run it pastme before writing it.

So the number one piece of advice I now give to writersis this: get serious objective feedback on the idea before youlaunch into structuring or outlining—let alone writing thescript. And expect people to have notes on the idea, andfor you to have to do some substantial rethinking, beforeyou ever get past that stage. This can go on for a long timeand involve lots of different ideas that you get temporar-ily excited about. Most of these will never quite take orwin over professional readers. This means that the finishedscript probably wouldn’t, either. Wouldn’t you rather fixthat now, instead of months down the road? So whateveryou would do to get high-quality feedback—whether it’sfrom writer friends or a paid consultant—do that withthe idea.

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The 60/30/10 Rule

I would say that 60 percent or more of what makes aproject potentially successful (or not) is the core idea thatcould be communicated in a short synopsis of a fewsentences up to a single page. And this is all that industryprofessionals will generally be willing to look at toconsider whether they want to read further.

Think of it: 60 percent of what’s most important toour chances is what is contained in that mini-pitch of ourbasic idea. It’s mostly not about all those months of outlin-ing, writing, rewriting, and getting feedback—that’s notthe most important part. The most important part is whatcomes before all that.

But the work in coming up with that basic idea is noteasy. It can take a lot of time and much trial and error toarrive at one that could garner the interest of professionals.Most of us don’t want to spend that much time question-ing our core story premise. But the reality is that “the busi-ness” will question it, and will usually dismiss it—and allour hard work—unless we have an idea they see as viable.

Many if not most writers never come up with a storyidea that solidly addresses the criteria in this book, despiteyears of pursuing the craft. And this is a big part of thereason most never end up selling anything or becoming

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professionally employed. They might focus on bringingtheir scene writing and narrative structure up to profes-sional quality, but not on their understanding of whatmakes a viable idea. Which is arguably the mostimportant thing.

If there’s nothing else you take from this book, pleasetake this “60 percent” figure and reconfigure your effortstoward “basic idea” development accordingly. Spend moretime and energy on ideas. Make it your number one goal asa writer to learn what makes a great one and to get betterat generating them.

Once you have an idea that really works, and you feelreasonably sure (because you’ve vetted it thoroughly withothers), then, and only then, does it make sense to turn tothe other 40 percent of the process.

What does that consist of ?To me, 30 percent of what’s important to a project’s

success lies in the structural choices, the decisions aboutwhat will happen, scene by scene, in a story—or what you’dsee in an outline.

That means only 10 percent is about the actual wordson the page—the description and dialogue that peoplewill read in the finished product. The actual scene writ-ing—that’s the last 10 percent.

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This seems shocking to many beginning writers.Ninety percent of what matters is what’s behind those writ-ten pages—what the writer worked on before they everfired up any script-formatting software.

Again, I’m not saying the writing doesn’t have to bereally top-notch for a script to advance a writer’s career andmove forward in some way. Of course it’s best if your scenewriting is memorably great, and your structure and outlin-ing choices are very strong, too. I’m just saying those twothings are not the key factors that determine a project’ssuccess. And in fact, those two things usually are nevereven considered or seen, because the project’s chances dieat the earlier idea stage.

And when they die, it’s for one simple reason: the ideastruck whoever read it as insufficient in one or more of theseven elements that this book will focus on—elements thatare universally understood as key, even if different read-ers would use different terminology to describe them (ormight not even be conscious of the fact that these are whatthey look for and respond best to).

So without further ado, here’s what they are . . .

The PROBLEM

At the heart of any story is a problem that takes the wholestory to solve. It’s a challenge that the story’s main

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character is actively engaged with, which consumes theirattention, energy, and emotion—and that of the audience.It usually starts by about 10 percent into the story andcontinues until essentially the very end (having built andbecome worse and more difficult along the way), when it’sfinally solved.

An idea for a story really is that central problem. It’sabout what the main character is faced with and/or tryingto achieve—its difficulty, its importance, what’s in theirway, and what they do to try to resolve it.

These are the things that professionals want to under-stand from any logline and/or synopsis. Until they can seethe problem in this way, and until they think it soundsreally viable and intriguing, they won’t want to readanything else.

So what makes a “problem” (i.e., your basic story idea)viable?

It needs to have the following seven essential charac-teristics, the first letters of which form the acronymPROBLEM:

1. Punishing.

Not only does it take the whole story to solve theproblem, but the main character spends virtuallyevery scene trying to solve it. But they can’t,

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because it is so vexing and complicated—and itgenerally only gets more so as they try to address it.If it didn’t, it wouldn’t take a whole “story” toovercome. The problem defies resolution andbesieges the main character as they grapple with it.

2. Relatable.

The main character of a story—and what they’redealing with and why it matters—is easy to identifywith on a human level. Because of this, we in theaudience are able to strongly care that they reachtheir desired outcome, making us want to stay withthe story. We even put ourselves in their shoes, suchthat it feels like their problem is our problem. Westay invested because they do. They remain active,and they keep trying to address whatever it is,despite all the slings and arrows that come at themin the process. If they didn’t, it would feel likethings weren’t moving forward in a compelling way,and our interest would slacken.

3. Original.

Something about the premise of the story and itsapproach is fresh and brand-new—even though italso fits within the conventions of good storytelling

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and genre. There is a spark of uniqueness to theidea, and preferably to the writer’s voice, as well.

4. Believable.

It’s easy for someone hearing or reading the basicidea to understand and buy into it, even if itrequires taking a leap and suspending disbelief, insome clearly defined way. In other words, it all feelsreal. The characters seem driven by identifiablehuman wants, needs, and behavior. It all sounds likeit adds up, makes sense, and doesn’t leave peopleasking any “why” questions or being skeptical orconfused about anything.

5. Life-Altering.

The “mission” to rise to the central story challengeis of huge importance to characters the audiencehas come to care about. If it doesn’t get solved, lifewill be unthinkably worse for them. Something intheir outer life circumstances, on a primal level, is atstake. And if they solve their problem, things willbe so much better than they are. All will be rightwith the world. In addition, the process of goingthrough this challenge may alter them internally, ina hugely important way. But it’s the external stakesthat come first.

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6. Entertaining.

The process of trying to solve the story problem isfun to watch or read, consistent with its genre.Whether it’s comedy, action, suspense, etc., thematerial creates desired emotional experiences inthe audience, of the kind that they came to theproject hoping to have. So it becomes like candy tothem—something they want more and more of,something they really enjoy and would spend timeand money on.

7. Meaningful.

The audience comes away feeling that value hasbeen added to their life—that somethingworthwhile has been explored, which has resonancebeyond the time they spent watching/reading it. Itwas really about something more than just itssurface plot—something meaningful to them.

Sounds simple, and even obvious, right? Fulfill these sevencharacteristics with your idea, and you’ll have a piece ofmaterial that could get you the interest of a manager,agent, editor, or producer.

Or maybe it doesn’t sound so simple. Maybe it soundsimpossible to do all these things at once. If you’re a little

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overwhelmed by the task, then you’re probably recogniz-ing what a big job it really is.

There’s a reason such a tiny percentage of aspiring writ-ers succeed, and why those who do are so handsomelyrewarded. It’s rare to successfully achieve all of this in ascript or in an idea for one.

When we look at our favorite stories, they probably doit so effortlessly that we didn’t even notice. These criteriaare so basic to our experience of consuming good stories,that they might seem to be self-evident. But that doesn’tmean they’re easy to pull off. The reality is that it takesa lot of work to create what might appear effortless. Andwriters don’t usually instinctively get what it takes toachieve this.

How “High” Is Your Concept?

In Hollywood, the logline is the standard tool for express-ing the idea behind a movie or series. It is typically no morethan a sentence or two, and it distills the premise downto the basic problem being faced. A good logline suggestsa story that would clearly meet the criteria set out in thisbook. It presents a compelling situation for a character orcharacters that one can imagine audiences caring about.And it lays out a central challenge that sounds really diffi-cult, and entertaining to watch, such as:

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A slick German industrialist profiting fromWorld War II becomes sickened when he seeswhat’s happening to the Jews, so he startsemploying them, to try to keep them out of theclutches of a psychopathic Nazi campcommandant he’s become friendly with.(Schindler’s List)

A naive recent college graduate gets involved in asecret affair with a married friend of his parents,whose daughter they think he should date.(The Graduate)

A down-on-her-luck maid of honor seems to belosing her best friend to a richer, prettier, moreconfident married woman, so she sets out to defeather and prove that she’s the better bridesmaid.(Bridesmaids)

When we talk about an idea for a story, we’re really talkingabout something that could be easily understood in thisshort form—which is generally true of the most sellableideas.

Successful loglines often have a “high-concept”element. “High concept” means an outrageous situationof some kind, not necessarily fantastical, but extreme,

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unexpected, unlikely, and with obvious entertainmentvalue and broad appeal. Usually they come from a “whatif ” question, like “What if there was a theme park withdinosaurs that got loose?” or “What if a teenager time trav-els to the past and gets in the way of his teenage parents’meeting, so he has to get them together, then find a wayback to the future?”

But even some non-fantastical premises can be called“high concept” if they are intriguing and clear and makethe potential audience start conjuring entertaining imagesin their minds right away. “What if a forty-year-old manwas still a virgin, and his sex-obsessed male coworkers triedto fix that?” Consider the original poster for this movie.Just the image of Steve Carell and the title alone is almostenough to make one get the comedy and challenges in thispremise. It seems pregnant with possibility and makes onewonder why nobody ever thought of it before.

In a compelling logline with a high concept element,it’s clear what the idea is, and why it’s compelling. There’senough there that one can really picture the story. No oneneeds to ask a bunch of questions to understand what it is.They instantly “get it.”

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