Simplify It!

Outlining is great. I mean, it's essential and important and a truly great outline is the precursor to a great screenplay. I really believe that, I do. However, outlining has to stop at some point. You can't just outline forever. Well, duh; why even say that? Because if you're anything like me, you easily get caught up in your own outlining, so much so that looking back at all your tables and bullet points and charts and graphs you'll see that you've basically outlined five million different versions of the same movie and now you don't know which one you're actually trying to write.

Too. Many. Choices. Not enough writing.

There comes a point where the complete muddle that is your outline has to be simplified. You have to cut that massive outline monster down at the knees. You can't take on a giant all by yourself, and try as you might instead of starting to actually write a screenplay you'll just end up making the behemoth even bigger.

You have to simplify it.

Among the many tables (I love tables - I just love them) that I use to outline my script I always have a tab entitled "Getting Weird." This is where the outlandish and crazy and really unsustainably insane ideas go for my script. The really strange "what ifs." Of all the fun I have outlining, this page is the most useless. Or is it?

Or. Is. It...?

This is where, after realizing the story was running off without me, I decided to completely simplify the story - strip it down to the barest version possible. I mean, really really primitive stuff; bring it all back to a skeletal representation of what I want it to be. And it turns out that simple is actually much, much better. It's clear. It's focused. It has room to get better.

And that's the thing. The first draft is not going to be brilliant, it's going to be a skeleton. Not even a fully grown human skeleton, but some kind of neanderthal, hunched over, slack-jawed, drooling, mouth breathing idiot blueprint. Second draft, stand that thing up straight, shut that mouth. Third draft, add some flesh, some muscle definition. Fourth draft, fifth draft, skin and hair and lips and eyebrows and dimples. I mean, if it's a dimple kind of movie, otherwise maybe a cleft in the chin or a sinister smile or something like that.

Simple first. Good later. Great lastly. If you're lucky. Wait, no; great if you work hard.

Work hard, then.