It depends on your point of view

Somehow, the viewpoint the story comes from dicates much of how the audience receives the story. For instance, imagine how different the story would be if the villain were telling it as opposed to the hero? It makes all the difference, and even moreso it dictates where the audience spends the majority of their time. Pick carefully, and for good reasons.

At the same time, though, authors can have lots of fun taking audiences in wildly varied places they wouldn't normally go. Using curious viewpoints (like having Watson narrate, rather than Sherlock Holmes) forces the audience to play catch up instead of knowing everything--which is more typical. Or, giving a narrator which tells the audience and not the characters. Anyway, it's fun to mess around with and guess how stories could be different by just changing the viewpoint.

It all comes down to point of view. It's pretty easy to make the audience like/dislike whoever you want, but the cherry on top is the way you cast the story and how it gets served to the audience. My guess is we all like twists to some degree, but it doesn't have to be big and using viewpoint is a wonderful way to do it. Battle: Los Angeles is a recent example from the movies that I think does a good job by telling a smaller story within a much larger one.

- M

What's old is new, and what's new is old.

The funny thing about cliches are that sometimes they're true. It's definitely true for "tried and true." For some reason, stories go out of favor and then right back in. One day it's mysteries, then fantasies, and then back to mysteries. Who can guess what the next swing will be? And then there are the fads that blast out of nowhere, explode all over the universe, then go back into hiding. Those are the drops of miracle that every writer wants to capture. I love to see it happen, and dance when it does.

I've studied the classics, and great theater, oratories, and speeches. What's been great in the past most definitely will continue being great. But, how do you know what's truly great? Like the cliche says, "Time will tell." Time really is the greatest judge, even though the thought is trite it doesn't make it any less true. Scooping a bit of that greatness into your own work isn't a bad idea, instead it hopefully shows that the old is understood enough to make it new again.

That brings up the concept of re-makes. What's the best way of dealing with them? My guess is it's inevitable that re-makes will happen, so may as well go along for the ride. Perhaps like the new Star Trek movies, where the stories have the same characters but near totally different development. Sure they have controversy, but what about the attempt at taking a classic and making it new again? Was it worth the try?

I think it's always worthwhile.

- M

Quotable, favorite, wonderful, lines that tickle the mind

Most writing teachers, and probably most writers, will say that the first things edited out of a manuscript are their "favorite lines." Yet, the audience usually grabs onto them with passion and they become part of the culture. Like, "Leave the gun, take the cannoli." (apparently ad-libbed by the actor on the spot) Or, how about, "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." (was supposed to be "for A man" but it's still understood that way I'm sure) So, one line came on the spur of the moment, and the other probably had committee hearings to get it right.

I love looking through history and finding things like this. It's pretty obvious in our American culture that many of our lines come from movies and song lyrics, probably because those are most easily put into little sound bites or quick snaps... "I'll be back." Hee hee, Arnold had some wonderful lines--though I suspect it was mostly the way he said things that made them memorable.

Anyway, so when I'm editing I usually wipe out my favorite, pet, lines because they just aren't any good. However, there are times I wonder about it. I wonder how many quotable lines have drifted to the trash can? I wonder how many good lines never made it to the page? And, I wonder if wondering about wondering is too much.

Yeah, okay, that last line wasn't good. But, was it memorable?

- M

ps. No, didn't think so either.

Wow, that was smart, but it sure ended dumb.

I wonder how many stories are out there that start with a fantastic premise, but end with a yawn? The phrase, "It's not the destination, but the journey that matters," describes my feelings on it. There seem to be a lot of them coming out from Hollywood recently (their dismal box-office returns this year so far demonstate that). What happened? I'm sure many talented people worked on the projects, and I doubt anyone planned on making something boring. Too much red tape? Too many hands twisting the story this way and that?

What grabs me in a story are the events the likeable characters go through that lead up to the ending. The story is a natural progression, guided by the author, that allows readers/viewers to guess what's coming up. I think that's a lot of the fun of stories, where we get to play along and try to see ahead to the end. It's exciting when the story twists away and leaves us surprised, not because it didn't make sense within it's own story rules but because we didn't guess right.

I'm sure we all have experienced the ending where we roll our eyes and holler, "Excuse me, but how does that make sense?" So, the question is, what can writers do about that? I'm sure the biggest thing is having an overall designer, and design. Outline, storyboard, whatever you need to give the big picture at a glance. Even if it isn't written down, have some idea where it's all going. Do that and I'll bet the rest falls into place.

- M

Ode to The Outer Limits

One of the science fiction shows that I grew up with was The Outer Limits. It was black and white, very low budget, but the stories were absolutely dynamite! One of my favorite episodes dealt with a shack out in the middle of a dusty valley, visited by a couple with a broken down car of course. And, the big baddie was?... wait for it ... tumbleweeds! Yup, I'm not kidding. Attacking tumbleweeds. I won't spoil it, but the end result was fantastic. Probably the dumbest story idea I've ever witnessed, but done brilliantly by the quality of writing. That's what made The Outer Limits so incredible.

The show had a wonderful revival in the 90s that lasted 7 seasons. Like the original, the focus was on quality of writing and, because of that, there were only a few episodes that weren't good. Really, the whole set of shows were fantastic.

I do miss having such shows around. Shows were every episode stands alone--anthology shows I think they used to be called. They didn't stress your brain much, like short stories for the television. Anyway, there's certainly a place for them. Actually, I wouldn't mind dumping a few reality shows so we could get back to more story driven shows.

So, check out The Outer Limits, the original series and the new series.

- M

Immersion, jaw grabbing, and heart tugging.

There are some movies/books/songs/paintings that contain the entire world within them. I can hear the song, "Unchained Melody" by the Righteous Brothers and be instantly transported to another world. It takes seconds, and my heart beats faster, my mind remembers and I'm somewhere else. The song became popular a second time with the release of the movie, Ghost. I went with my father to see it--one of the many times we went to do something together. Anyway, when we left the theatre we both had the same feeling, but he described it better when he said, "It's like I just left the world back inside there."

What creates that incredible feeling that so very few stories manage? Sure, it's a lot about how we relate to the characters and the setting, but somehow there are stories that go far beyond that and penetrate deep into our consciousness, imbedding themselves so thoroughly that we will never forget them. It's magic in a bottle. I've always wondered how it happens, but maybe that's part of the magic? These things come on the whispers of angels and dazzle us beyond words.

I'm blessed that I've witnessed many of these, and seek them out constantly. I've told my children that there certainly is magic in the world, but never the sort you expect. It's all in how you define it, I think. Keep your eyes and heart open. Find those little bits of wonder around you.

You'll be all the better for it.

- M

Images, setting, and showing off.

Movies, let's face it, are all about images. It's so easy to get a sense of place within seconds, and not only that but you are prodded emotionally with the images as well. Dark and moody, or bright and clinical, movies get the viewers in the mood almost instantly. And then there are directors who load up each visual with such detail (like Del Toro is famously known for) that it all just leaps off the screen with reality; bammo, the stage is set.

Writers of books have a much harder time, since through description readers create the settings out of their own imaginations. We all have varying levels of ability, and probably varying levels of interest in creating those settings, but the writer can focus and direct the reader's attention with complete authority. Dropping in a detail, without putting focus on it, is a favorite method of mystery writers. Movies can't really do this, because it's up to the viewer to see or not see.

I love that the two mediums have such different ways of getting a setting in front of the audience. At the same time, the writers certainly need to be aware of that fact and adjust accordingly. But, don't feel bad for them, because they picked the job and so did the viewer. Like a magic act, both parties are intimately involved in creating the experience, and I believe both also want very much for it all to work out with awe and wonder.

When it really comes down to it, the audience want a good experience--despite any deficiencies. I'll bet it's always been that way: audience and story combine together, for the wonder of all.

- M