So our friend Socrates is coming to visit! He works for the Visalia news crew and for some reason wants to interview us (I guess he thinks we're popular or something, heh). Him and his friend will be here this coming Saturday with a pair of Panasonic HVX200's. I guess that means we'll have to see how they compare to our Sony PMW-EX1!

Anyway, if you guys want to have your questions included in the interview send an email to CreativeQuestion@gmail.com with the subject "Question?"

And try and get your questions in by this Thursday, March 12th (we need a little time to prepare everything for the shoot on Saturday).

Everyone wish Soc a good trip! He's coming a really long way just to meet us, Peter and I are very quite honored.

Since Peter has been producing all the latest episodes and writing all the latest blog entries, I thought I might step in for a moment with an update.

I want to start this entry off by saying that if you like animation, make sure you see Coraline in 3D if at all possible. I saw it on Thursday evening with my sister (I took her for her 19th birthday) and have been motivated to work on my stop-motion stuff since (I've pretty much been working on it non-stop). I'll even admit that I was a little scared towards the end of the film. It's quite an experience. And RealD really is the next level of 3D. I'm a little bit disappointed because I know the next movie I go to see probably won't be using this amazing technology.

My desk is kind of a mess right now!

I've kept it sort of a secret all this time, but I have a hidden passion for stop-motion animation. And I've been working on a secret project for quite some time now, but I suppose it couldn't hurt to share it with you guys. I'm building a (somewhat) scale model of my own bedroom, complete with foam latex puppet of myself. It's for a little online series I plan on creating, it'll basically be a video blog of me in my room except it will be done entirely in stop-motion. I've been working on this thing for a very long time, you guys don't even know. Check out my flickr gallery. And I recently posted a quick little animation test on Vimeo.

This is what I'm recreating in miniature

And here's a closeup shot of my WIP

Peter and I have been thinking about the future of Take Zer0 quite a bit lately. Despite our latest 2.0 update to the site, we think that with a few modifications, we can really turn this place from a simple blog into an actual community. Don't expect anything too soon (we're still just two guys without jobs), but know that it's coming (TZ 2.1, if you will). We appreciate any and all feedback from you guys (don't hesitate to use that button on the left side of our site).

Hopefully our efforts pay off. We've both been wondering if it's all really worth it or not. Why don't we just go off and make short films? Why not make features and show them in festivals and sell them to a studio? All in time, I suppose. But until then, Take Zer0 is our stomping ground.

What's next? Peter should be posting the next episode pretty soon. He's also working on Clip Show. As for me, I haven't given up on The Late Morning, but I've been busy and have had quite a few distractions. I've also been learning a lot about writing, myself. I realized I have to start thinking about characters and their wants and needs and not just focus on an interesting plot.

You're all enjoying the weekend I hope! Now, a word about the totally unrelated video: it sent everyone in our class laughing.

I was enrolled in two very different classes that semester, Advanced Video Production and Field Video Production. This wasn't made for Advanced Video Production. Hopefully the guys who made it don't mind if I post it. It was a relief at the time to sit through something made out of plain fun compared to the art house fare from the advanced production class (though they were still quite good, and all made with considerable skill). The point, in a poetic Sullivan's Travels sorta way, is that people laughed.

We got a B. Is it me, or did my hair look like Anton Chigurh?

So to anyone who saw our recent two-part episodes, what do you all think of them? It was a prototype of sorts, designed to gauge whether not we were being too convoluted (and ambitious) with the filmmaking topics. Weighing the pros and cons, the pro is that this is perhaps the most hands-on demonstration we can attempt at the moment--to discuss storytelling techniques as we employ them. To those who found it to be too convoluted, worry not, for the next episode will be a more straightforward affair.

If we attempt another one these multi-parters, it'll likely be Sustaining a Narrative. So we'd love to hear all your input on the recent two-part "prototypes" before we push forward.

Sorting, cutting, and mixing 270 different clips is...fun.

Checking on Twitter, I see that Sean and Rootclip have now entered the final chapter of The Alien. It certainly has been a unique run so far, with perhaps the most disparate attempts for each chapter; so varied is each entry that the story could qualify for an anthology of sorts. Some look at this as a disappointment. I find it rather risky and refreshing. Sean made the unusual, off-beat story in an attempt to coax that unused, unspent, and otherwise most creative part of the brain into wakefulness. Personally, it's a shame that users have bent the focus of the story from its female protagonist, back to Rootclip's default masculinity. But not even that mindset could shake away the sense of variety at play. My favorite? "Jim's Been Drinking Again." The plotting is ho-hum, but the pacing, editing, and audio are accomplished in spades.

So here's looking forward to Rootclip's next story, the latest evidence of which was alluded to in this now two-day-old Tweet: Back to script writing. This next story on Rootclip is going to be a good one! Yes, Rootclip, I eyeball your Twitter with the profound yearning of an infant for Mother's milk.

In a broad summation of events, Sean has been trying to meet with several local actors and actresses. You know, networking; and, perhaps, a little passive casting for his "Late Morning," I suspect. Offhand, he assures me that the Lessons are not only prepped to be shot soon (meaning more sleepless nights), but that they'll also blow your mind away. Not precisely in those words, mind you. I believe he muttered something softly like "Pretty good."

As for Drew, school and work has been keeping him busy (Take Zer0 is, after all, our full-time job alongside our other full-time jobs). He'll likely make an appearance in future episodes, preferably ones in the very near future. He tells me he pitched his "Father Time" web series to somebody connected up-on-high in the television industry.

Speaking of television, props to John in the forums for introducing me to Garth Marenghi's "Darkplace," a British TV show that spoofs sci-fi/horror shows of the 80s. A shame it was canceled. If the title sequence doesn't convince you that this show is genius...then you probably don't like a lot of things, I guess.

Well, anyway, have a great weekend everybody!

Be sure to watch Part 1 before this one! And because it took so long to shoot and cut this quasi-short film of an episode, not only is Part 2 included in this video, but so is Part 3. Hope you people enjoy it!

Now, we all have stories to tell. Sort of. Most of it is a mish-mash of abstract scenes and imagery, stranded in the murky subterranean depths of our minds. According to Will Eisner, a story is not a story until it is "told in an arranged and purposeful order." This means that those abstract scenes in your mind are not stories at all; they are just ideas and nothing more. To prematurely call them stories is not only false, but dangerous. It tricks you into thinking that you've overcome the hardest part.

Step 1: Want

No sustained character can exist without a desire, a want that permeates the story. It is the carrot dangling before their nose, and they will chase it until the end. If there is no carrot, there is either no story, or little reason for the story. They must want something; and as a twist, that something will not always be precisely what they expected. There is the external, material Want, which is more obvious; and then there is the internal, personal Want, the discovery of which is usually a major "point" of the story. A summary of the above video would go like this, sandwiched by the external and internal Wants:

A lonely writer who wants to tell a story about love goes on a drunken journey and ultimately realizes he wants the real thing.

The best stories veer toward an unexpected ending. Give the protagonist the present they never knew they wanted, or deserved.

A very old man wants to be left alone after the death of his wife and becomes a recluse. He is evicted and is forced to live with his grown daughter, an executive struggling against the void of a corporate career. Because she inherited her mother's ambitious personality, he begins to enjoy her company. She finds him to be a burden and plans to send him to an old folk's home, the same thing her mother did to her grandparents. Father and daughter squabble. The old man, too proud, stops taking his medication and passes away, to be with his wife.

Regardless of the quality of the story that I just made up, notice how the old man's want (to be left alone) transformed into something far more insightful and less obvious (to literally be with his wife). The "story" is the order of events that took place for him to reach that realization, and for the audience to empathize. Any sub-plots and supporting characters are simply there to reinforce and justify the main problem. Just remember that what the old man wants is what gives way to the rest of the story. If he did not want anything specific, the story could not easily exist---at least not in such a tight order of events. An unintentionally loose order of events is a common symptom of not knowing or being unsure of what your character wants; assuming you can even get that far.

Johnny Protagonist must want something, else he will be bored, along with the viewer.

Ah, but you say that this Want = Goal formula is too "Hollywood"? Hold it right there. Even the most rudimentary elements of life are formula. Every minute a person wants something. I want a drink; I want a candy bar; I want to read; I want to listen to music; heck, I want to sleep (it's five o'clock in the morning). Life is a series, a succession, of wants. Good stories are merely more focused, and amplified, than the real thing.

Step 2: Extrapolate

A story is what. A plot is how.

People have this misconception that plot and story are two very different yet still identical things, like maternal twins. They're more like co-workers. Ray Bradbury described it like this: Story is Point A, and Point B, and so on; plot are the footprints in the snow the characters must tread to get there. Don't worry about plot until you have the story. After all, you must know where you are going before you can figure out how to get there.

So if a character wants something, why not just let them have it, and be over and done with? Because then there would be little plot and less drama than what a solid story would entail. It would not even be a narrative. It would be a skit. A skit dwells on a single problem and is resolved for the audience's amusement. Sketch comedy comes to mind, as well most of the material on YouTube; though they tend to be mislabeled as short films.

A narrative is focused on the telling of a problem from a reinforced perspective. Whether or not it is solved becomes irrelevant. It is how the problem is solved that peaks our interest. And once you learn to ask why it needs to be solved, why anybody should care, viola! You have a narrative.

Assembling and plotting the story, beginning-middle-and-end.

One big mistake is to view your story as a giant slab of concrete. Break it down into blocks to build a structure. "Ah, here is when we meet and get to know the old man." "Oh and here is when he gets evicted and the story really starts." Each part is an individual snapshot that has a purposeful function. None of it is window dressing, and none should overstay their welcome. As a rule, it is said that one scene of conflict should not carry itself directly into the following scene, especially if the point as already been made. It would feel redundant and used up. So move on. The plot should contribute to a forward-moving momentum. Toy around with the arrangement of your plot and of the events in your story. It is the DNA, and its varied arrangements will yield fascinating effects on the audience. Is the beginning supposed to be fast or slow? Should the audience acknowledge the ominous desk drawer before it is opened, or not? And so on.

In the case of the episode, the plot is constructed of, first, a flashback montage of Sean's problems; then it slows down and takes a detour to review his problems; then we finally see that they were not, in fact, problems. They were his unforeseen solutions. Finally, we learn of his newly solved problems by a second flashback montage that casts new light on what went before. It is a circular plot, structured to recall the beginning.

And So...

The episode scripts were outlined within an hour. They were also written in an hour and shot the next day, off-and-on (we were at the mercy of rain and weather) in a period of five days. I came up with the admittedly shallow story by first coming up with a problem, arriving at a logical solution, and then backtracking for a Want. In the end, it's what led up to the cheesy ending you have before you.

An 8-LED emergency light. There is no such thing as "pro" lights. Only lights that work.

And because someone asked in the last post, the Gazing-Up-at-the-Stars-On-the-Grass shots were lit entirely by this handy little thing (pictured above), twenty bucks at your nearest Target store. As for the majority of the shots, we used natural sunlight with reflectors and diffusers. The night shots at Drew's apartment were lit entirely by two utility clamp lights (the same ones used in the recent Low Budget Lighting episode).

Well, I think that about does it for Sustaining a Story Idea. It's partly practical and partly conceptual. What can I say? It's an idea meant to foster even more ideas. Perhaps next time we'll do Sustaining a Narrative. And so it goes, it is six o'clock in the morning. I better get on to bed. Or you know what? I might as well grab some coffee.

So one night at a Barnes & Noble I leafed through this Will Eisner paperback. You know, Eisner, the guy who helped define sequential narrative. In a single page he had this awfully simple definition of storytelling, illustrated in little dialog bubbles. It went like this:

Caveman: Tell me...Ol' Storyteller, where do stories come from?
Storyteller: Well, have you got something you want to tell someone?
Caveman: Yeah...a couple of things I'd like to tell. But, how?
Storyteller: Well, now...decide if you want to tell it as a joke or an adventure story. Invent a problem to illustrate the point!
Caveman: Okay!
Storyteller: Next you solve the problem, which will give you the ending. That, m'boy, is storytelling!
Caveman: Ahah!

This is what storytelling is, plain and true. I'm no authority to give vindication; but Eisner's telling is so straight-as-an-arrow, it penetrates pretension and arrives at some kind of holistic truth. A story is a problem. The ending is the solution. Got it? In the abstract, even an unsolved, downbeat ending is a solution in the requirements of the story, if not the dilemma. The bad guy gets away and the bomb goes off, but the story still ends.

If you dislike your story idea, you either have a problem nobody cares about, or you haven't the foggiest of how to fix it.

This is about writing, of any kind. Not just screenplay.

Some of you may be nodding your heads, "Of course that's what a story is!" But we all need to be reminded. The disease called Writer's Block is a cancer of thought: the story, when left unchecked, gorges itself into a tumor. Writers have the bad habit of treating their ideas as reflections of their expectations: they focus so anally on what their their story should be, that they don't allow their stories to simply be. The best ideas arrive naturally; as natural, perhaps, as the inclination to solve a nagging problem. Call it the two o'clock revelation. Call it the ego. Or, as Stephen King calls it, call it Pow! Pow is what happens when two polarized ideas collide to form one super magnet of a story. POW! Just like that. One idea is the neutron, the other is the charge. One is the vinegar, the other is the baking soda. Got it? The best way to go about this formula is to use ideas that contradict. They naturally incite conflict, which naturally makes the writer become Mr. Fix-It, and viola! You got your ending. Pow!

Lets take a step back. When is an idea not a story? Well, when it lacks a defining or unifying action. Some people confuse descriptions for stories. "My story is about a blind guy who lives alone." Interesting. But that, sir, is not a story. No doubt it could make a cool skit or an experimental character study; but a story for the sake of beginning-middle-and-end it surly is not.

A story is what happens. Don't worry about how it happens. That's plot. The first ingredient of a story, or at least an idea of a story, is what happens. Call it the problem, the inciting incident, whatever you like. Something just needs to happen that affects the outcome of the story, even if you have yet to arrive at the outcome. The thing that happens will interfere or impede directly with what the protagonist wants or needs to achieve. Discern the difference between an unclear background action (protagonist sees a car accident...perhaps has direct relevance to the story) and a foreground action (protagonist causes the accident...incites the story without a doubt).

Little tweaks in the thinking process, like the one in the above paragraph, can help to overcome writer's block. It may sound like redundant tripe, riddled with clichés, but this isn't in the interest of Hollywood formula. It's human nature. What may seem like a cliché can in fact turn out to be plain common sense. Just remember, a story is a problem.

More on this in the later posts.

The above video is nothing but problem (Sean needs help with a story). That's because it's split into three parts; this is essentially the first act, and so there's really nothing but exposition. The next episode will move it into the second act, which is solving the problem (Peter acts as mentor). It will touch a lot more on sustaining a story idea. And the third episode will simply tie everything up nice and neat (Sean discovers what he wanted).

And to anyone concerned, this is the format for part of the episodes from now on. This one's a little wobbly, like a newborn fawn trying not to fall. There will be more elaborate ones like this, which liberally touch on abstract ideas, alongside the more directly informational types. We wanna spice it up a little.