Writing for Money -- Not!

Good Morning, Readers & Writers.  Greetings from my vacation.  And because it's my vacation, I asked one of the most talented writers I know, novelist and screenwriter Bob Bernstein, to write something unforgettable in my stead.

For those who aren't familiar with Bob's work, he's the author of the Captain Grande Angil mystery series, among other works.  A sea captain himself, Bob knows his way around a salty yarn.  You can learn a lot by visiting his Amazon Author page.

I'll let Bob take it from here.

I started my writing career back in the early 90s when wholesale fish prices fell and the recession turned the charter boat business into a virtual treasure hunt for tourists. Visiting sport divers and fishermen became an endangered species here on the Maine coast, as would the cod in the decade to come. With boat and mortgage payments due, I had to try something else. I bought an old Dell computer and started punching out stories. My first was the retelling of an experience swimming with a pair of humpback whales in Massachusetts's Bay -- shh, don’t tell anyone, the Marine Mammal Protection Act prohibits fraternization with whales. Anyway, the story ended-up in the pages of a regional boating magazine, which eventually led to a column and a monthly gig writing features for the same magazine, which, in turn, opened the door for gigs with other commercial and recreational boating and fishing magazines.

There’s no question the daily grind of writing for a periodical helps a writer’s productivity. Nothing motivates like a deadline, an in-your-face editor or publisher, and the threat of not getting a paycheck. Conversely, being on your own and writing on spec, particularly a novel, requires a different mind-set, one that must avoid distractions and focus clearly on an end result. For example, right now, I’m alternately thinking of: (1) heading to the marina and opening the hatches in the boat to get some fresh air into the bilge; (2) taking a shower; (3) getting a carrot cupcake with cream cheese icing from the cafe down the street; (4) edging the magnolia in the front yard; (5) bringing my 400 Sky Vodka bottles to the redemption center; (6) calling a therapist to find out if I have ADD or maybe just a drinking problem; (6) emailing M. Night Shyamalan and asking him what was going through his mind while filming After Earth; (7) figuring out how I can scan multiple pages and turn them into a single PDF without simultaneously tearing the remaining hair out of my follicle-challenged head. I could go on, but you get the point.

As Jack Parr once said: “I see my life as an obstacle, with me as the chief obstacle.”

I should be writing the second novel in my Grande Angil Mystery series. It’s there, in it’s own little Scrivener project file, just waiting for me. I feel it beckoning like the call of a Siren, a Siren because while it lies there innocuous and patient on my hard drive, it has the power to consume me thoroughly, heart and soul, holding me hostage for twelve or more hours a day, numbing my legs and turning my arm muscles to pudding. Instead of yanking out roots in the yard, chopping up stumps with a pick axe, diving on moorings, or heading to the north woods to hike a mountain, I’m living out a fantasy in my head and putting it to page and paper. For what?

Sometimes I question what it is that compels me to write. Is it my ego? Do I need some third party to validate me as a person of value? Is it the prospect of hitting the big time and making a ton of money? (HA! That last one always makes me laugh, especially on the day I get my royalty payment.)

Nope, it’s none of the above, because when all is said and done, and I take an honest look at myself in the mirror, I always see the same thing: a storyteller in desperate need of a shave, a good night’s sleep, and a new bathrobe.

Seriously, writers don’t get a lot of sleep, and a lot of them do their best work in their pajamas.

Guest screenwriter Art Holcomb: How to Eat a Whale

Art Holcomb is a screenwriter whose work has appeared on the Showtime Channel. He is a comic book author of such comics as Disney/Marvel’s X-Men and Acclaim’s Eternal Warriors. Art is a regular contributor to Storyfix – voted the #1 fiction writer’s website on the Internet. A number of his recent essays appear in the collection: Warm Hugs for Writers: Comfort and Commiseration of The Writing Life (Amazon Books). He appears and teaches at San Diego Comic-Con and other conventions.  


Scenes are the way we come into the world.  Memories, one of our strongest motivators, are almost completely made up of scenes. They are stories in miniature - bite-sized, easy to digest, and easy to remember and retell.  They are the building blocks of all narrative writing.

The scene is also a microcosm for the whole.  It has:

• a beginning, middle, and end as well as
• its own conflict, goals and obstacles;
• its own tension and release through pivot points;
• its own surprises and revelations  . . .
• its own stakes – some stand alone to the scene, some part of the greater story;
• Like a poem that’s crafted for maximum impact with a minimum number of words, scenes alone have the power to create moments within a story, the very moments that the audience might remember after the performance is over.

Authors like James Patterson and Robert B. Parker use the same concept in their non-scriptwriting fiction, building a novel with a hundred or more short scenes or chapters.  The length of their chapters becomes shorter as the pace and tension builds. Each chapter or scene is a vignette, a small chip of ceramic placed in a greater mosaic, bringing together the smallest of things to make great beauty and power.

If, as we write, our goal is to develop the above elements, we have to assemble the tools we need to make great scenes. As you write, consider these techniques:

Enter the scene as late as possible – this can maximize the time you have inside the scene; remember, if you’re shooting for two-minutes scenes, then every little bit of saved time or space can be put to better use.

Let the action inform the reader as to setting and tone.  Much of exposition in a screenplay or novel is actually reference and inference. There’s an old saying that the real story begins in chapter three; why not try starting there without the build-up and see how much back-story and information comes from the action?

There must be an identifiable beginning, a time before the problem or attack takes place (this is known as the Inciting Incident).  Make your beginning striking. You can place readers suddenly in a situation that heightens their senses or lulls them into being comfortable before hitting them with the stark contrast of the main conflict.

Create a middle that pivots us around. The main character is fighting his way in one direction – now, spin us around! Give us something that we didn’t see coming.  Conflict us, confound us, do something bold and unexpected.  Make the decision points of the story clear. Doing this part well provides depth and roundness to the scene. Your readers will thank you for it.

End the scene.  Too many writers ignore this point.  They let the action stop, trail off, or have a character leave the room (literally or emotionally) or fail to make a decision.  These can be valid parts of a scene’s ending but by themselves are not enough to propel us into the next scene, to the next pearl in the strand.  The ends of scenes contain one of the greatest dangers a writer can face because this is a natural point for readers to decide whether they are going to continue reading.  Find a way to hook your audience so they come back.

Every word, every phrase, or exchange must have a purpose.  If not, you should ask yourself whether you really need it. The real estate on the page is too precious to waste with literary weeds and overgrowth.

Always know what the objective for the scene is. Every scene should have at least two:  One is the objective for the story: what the characters must accomplish or what they need to feel in order to march ever forward to their goal.  But also there is an objective for the reader.  You are the one telling the story; you are in control.  What is it that the reader wants to feel from this passage? Your skill plus their own personal experiences dictate what they get out of your tale.  You need to do your part to give them the ride they paid for.

Drive the narrative smoothly from one scene to another; each scene must make a fluid link between the scene before and the scene that follows.

Finally. try to  accomplish at least two of these three things in each scene:

Expand the narrative: move the story along (escalate).
Deepen the characterization: reveal more (give details  and emotion).
Promote the subtext and theme.
These strategies will serve you well regardless of your story’s format. It’s simply quality storytelling.

For more information, try Larry Brook’s excellent chapter on scene development in his Story Engineering or some of the passages dedicated to scene writing on Storyfix. In addition, I recommend The Scene Book: A Primer for the Fiction Writer by Sandra Scofield and Roy Peter Clark’s Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies for Every Writer.

Oh, and the answer to the question in the title: how do you eat a whale?

Why, one small bite at a time . . . of course!

Guest screenwriter Arlene Gibbs: Write. Every. Day.

Arlene Gibbs is a screenwriter (Jumping the Broom) based in Rome, Italy. Prior to moving to the Eternal City, she worked in Hollywood as a film production company executive for ten years. She was born in New York City to parents from St. Martin and raised in the small town of Verona, New Jersey. Her blog is sistergirltales.blogspot.com where she writes about life in Italy and her sad attempt to become fluent in Italian.

There's a very good reason talented writers strongly suggest writing everyday. Or at least, Monday - Friday.

The two weeks I spent in Los Angeles completely threw me off my writing groove. I said I was going to write while I was there. What was I thinking?

My schedule was so packed, I had to ask my manager's assistant to cancel two meetings. I was running all over town. One crazy day I had meetings in Santa Monica, Studio City and Beverly Hills. Anyone who has

spent time in Los Angeles understands what a clusterf**k that day was.

Last week was not a good writing week. Part of it was jet lag, but a bigger part was my complete lack of motivation. I would open my laptop and just stare at a blank page. After a while, I would go online instead of writing (or unpacking) and next thing I knew, hours had gone by.

I started to get worried. What if I never get "it" back?

This week I forced myself to sit down and write. I wouldn't get online until after I had spent some time working on my novel. It was slow going at first.

After a few days of this, suddenly on Thursday I hit 1500 words without realizing it.

My goal is 2000 words a day. There will be days I exceed that, and others when I fall short. However, I finally feel like I'm back on track.

I'm also working on a new spec script. I'm writing with another screenwriter who is in the middle of staffing season (for American TV) so we have to budget our time wisely.

The next time I go to L.A., I don't think my schedule will be as insane. The October trip was my first trip to the States after moving to Rome 2 1/2 years earlier and this last trip was for the Jumping the Broom release. I get why my manager wanted to squeeze in as many meetings as possible.

If I had some money, I would go to a hotel somewhere nice and just write. It would have to be a place with a view and quiet like Ravello on the Amalfi Coast. Any place where there's a ton of sightseeing to do wouldn't work.

Or I would even check myself into a place in Rome. Several writer friends in L.A. do it all the time, especially for big deadlines. I completely understand why so many writers love working in hotels... no distractions.

In the meantime, I will be in my apartment trying my best to finish this novel...

—Arlene Gibbs