And Why Newbies Often Write Shit That Isn’t a Scene
There’s nothing quite like reading the work of new writers. Ah… fresh meat writing fresher meat.
It’s often a mishmash of scenarios that aren’t actual scenes, and lots of scenes that don’t really mean anything to the plot as a whole
What we begin to see after a while is that people don’t really know where to draw the line of what makes a scene and what doesn’t make a scene.
There isn’t enough conflict. There isn’t any sort of irony. There isn’t a protagonist and an antagonist. Nobody is trying to get anything.
There are any number of ways to learn how to write a proper scene, but let’s start with being able to recognize what one is.
What makes a scene?
Well, a scene needs a handful of things, but basically it comes down to two opposing forces in conflict. If there isn’t conflict in a scene plus a clear winner and loser, then you don’t have a scene.
That isn’t to say, of course, that every scene literally needs to be a literal MMA fight. Rather, I simply mean that every scene figuratively needs to be an MMA fight.
(If that doesn’t make any sense, I suggest you look up “literally” in the dictionary and stop using it to mean “actually” or “figuratively.”)
In short, you’ll need to understand what’s at stake and who’s vying for it, or there’s really nothing there.
Furthermore, much like a good screenplay, every scene will have three key parts: a “point of no return” where the die is cast and no one can take that back; a reversal, where the previous winner gets flipped over and the opposition takes the advantage; finally, an “all is lost” where it seems that our protagonist will never get what she’s after.
If it has a beginning, an end, and these parts, you’ll have a scene. Now, that said, it’s not as if I’m considering this every time I write a scene.
Rather, I use a framework such as this when I rewrite and when I analyze others’ scripts. It’s especially important as you watch films and learn how they work structurally. Learn to tell when scenes begin and end. You might just be surprised…
To wit: sometimes someone can exit a room and that doesn’t terminate the scene. Sometimes the scene stops while people are still sitting in the same seat they are sitting in at the beginning of the next scene!
How is that even possible?
Traditionally, a scene begins when a person walks into the room and end when that person leaves the room. However, this isn’t always the case. There are plenty of great instances where different scenes happen in succession in the same location (Killer Joe, or just about any film adapted from a play), or one scene is spread out over multiple locations (the cat chase from Inside Llewyn Davis).
The key to learning what makes a good scene is, as ever, breaking others’ scenes down effectively.
Pick a scene that means something to you and figure out what it means: why does Ricky filming Jane undress in American Beauty seem touching rather than creepy? How does structure tell us this?
Learning to do so means reading and learning and analyzing scene structure from the greats: the Coens, Billy Wilder, and Robert Towne come to mind, but pick any writer who’s not a total waste of skin and you’ll be on track.
Conclusion
The endgame here is to be able to write a functional scene without really thinking about all the pivot points.
The first step is to develop your ability to recognize a scene. When you can recognize one, then you’ll be able to structure one–if you’re careful to include its constituent parts and organize them correctly, of course.
The point is to make the first draft passable, at which point the successive drafts will only get better and, ideally, more awesome.
