Monday, February 17, 2014

Polti's Invaluable Tool

So back in 1916 this French writer, Georges Polti, pored over classical Greek and French stories, as well as contemporary (in 1916) French literature.  And after this he observed that there are only 36 Dramatic Situations, ever.  And he wrote a book about it, citing examples.

I am, by nature, a thorough learner.  At first I learn enough to be getting on with, but when a subject intrigues me I can't learn enough.  I want to learn everything that can be learned about that subject EVER.

I am especially like this with my writing.  I am insecure about my writing.  I know I can write well enough to impress many (maybe, under the right circumstances, even most) but I am also keenly aware that I am, by no stretch of the imagination, the best.  I am no Shakespeare, I am no Whedon, I am no Sorkin nor Crichton nor Adams.  So if there are any tools out there that might help ensure that my craft is at least as good as I can make it at this moment, I WANT IT!

Enter Monsieur Polti's list...

Despite not being published, I have written enough to know that the worst sin I can commit is to be boring, particularly in long-form fiction, where I am asking the Reader to bare with me as I drop bread crumbs leading them to a narrative payoff.  I have been a reader for enough newbie screenplays that I know noobs can write "scenes" that aren't actually scenes at all.  I mean, people say stuff and people do things, but the scene has no beginning to speak of or end.  It just starts and stops, and completely fails to advance the story or our understanding of the characters to any significant degree.

And I get it!  I've done it tons!  You've got this great action or this great line of dialog you need to get out there so people can say, "That's a cool line!" or, "That was awesome!"  But the problem is that if the script/novel/story you stick that action or line into sucks, you might get the compliments you were hoping for, but it's couched within an uncomfortable, "No, yeah, it was good... I like that one line!"

I don't want to plant a pearl in a pile of shit and be remembered for that.  I want that one pearl to stand out among a string of pearls!  Hell, I would love it if people forgot that one pearl because they are so passionately in love with one of the other many pearls I've created!  How cool would THAT be?!  You've created so much goodness that people miss YOUR favorite line/action because they have adopted something (maybe something you didn't even know would resonate) that you've created!

Okay, so part of my defense against mediocrity is the Outline: I make sure my entire story doesn't suck before I invest the man hours an imagination it's going to take for me to realize this world and these characters and situations.

Another way is to (try to) make sure that every scene is actually a scene.  AND -- and these are both pretty tightly bound up with Polti's list of 36 Dramatic Situations -- I want to make sure I UNDERSTAND WHAT I'M CREATING.

The best way to illustrate this is to suggest you watch ANY of the X-MEN movies not directed by Brett Ratner, then watch X-MEN: LAST STAND.  Other directors know what they're trying to get the Audience to feel, but Ratner has NO concept of human emotions.  He just wants to get as quickly as possible to the next action scene.  You can see that the screenwriters have created for a moment for two characters to have "a moment", for those amazing actors to really earn their pay, but Ratner doesn't give a shit; he just wants to blow something else up.

Okay, maybe that's not the best illustration...  (Besides, I would hate to inflict X3 on any unsuspecting innocent...)  (Just watch the OTHER X-MEN flicks, there are 5 others as of this writing, ALL excellent!)

Let's say you have a scene in a Comedy wherein a cute chick is trying to avoid an annoying jock dude at a party.  He has already expressed a desire to hook-up with her, and she has rejected him as gently as she can manage...  Too gently, in fact.  Jock-O thinks she's into him since she hasn't actually said the word "No" to him.

She's all alone at the party (her "wingman" is distracted by something else), and she suddenly realizes she doesn't have line-of-sight on Jockstrap!  Oh shit!  She needs to find Wingman-chick before Jock-strap finds her!  So she moves from room to room, carefully scoping out the corners and nitches as she enters each room, moving as stealthily through each room as she can...

But what she doesn't know is that Jock-strap is right behind her, following her, waiting for her to land somewhere so he can continue his "romantic" advance.

So you're write this scene, describing what you see in your head, and you expect the situation to strike the Reader as hilarious as it appears in your mind.

BUT...

The scene would play so much more hysterically if you realized that you were actually writing A HORROR SCENE!  Specifically, a Slasher scene!

I mean, the scene doesn't end with Cute Chick's bloody demise, but that doesn't actually matter.  To get the biggest response from the joke, you can write this section of your story as though it were a horror scene, and the Cute Chick is trying to flee the evil Slasher, and when he catches up with her it's (figuratively) as though she has been slain by a stalker.

Actually, there may be a better way to approach this particular scene literarily (if that's a real word), but you get my point, right?  You can write a scene where Cute Chick tries to find her Wingman (Wingperson), which possesses no inherent emotional investment by the Reader, or you write a scene in which she is stalked by Jock-hugger.  And even if you fail to bring off any real, genuine feelings of suspense in the Reader during that scene, I'll bet you that they'll give you props for the effort!

Because one scene is written boringly and one is written with some attitude!

In the stuff I've read, I am much more liable to give credit to a scene that tries and fails than I am a scene that merely trudges forward, forcing me to grit my teeth until the next cool scene comes along.

Speaking of trudging along, I feel as though this horse is thoroughly dead, and my whippin' arm's getting tired.

What I really should be doing -- what I should have started doing about an hour ago -- is writing my "Polti Report".

I'm analyzing my novel in 3 ways:

1. The story as a whole
2. Each individual scene
3. The major movements (or sequences) within the story made up by collections of scenes

I want to make sure I know what type of scene/sequence I'm writing, and make sure I have all the essential elements that make up each scene.

And I will be doing that with this handy version of the 36 Dramatic Situations...

By the way, this step is also useful for balance en the Creative Mind and the Analytical mind.  Creating scenes for my outline, I have been largely engaging my Creative Mind.  (Is that Left brain or Right Brain?  I can't keep them straight.)  And I noticed that as soon as I decided that my outline was complete and it is time to actually write the chapters, I Analytical Mind started finding way to convince me that the novel isn't going to be good enough, that I don't know what I'm doing, and that no one is going to buy this book after it's published.

The Analytical Mind is like that.  It doesn't seem to like things that aren't perfect.  (And what really IS perfect?!)

See, I think the Analytical Mind is just afraid of being made unimportant by the Creative Mind that is going to be doing the heavy lifting for the next few months.  The Creative Mind is about to take over and virtually LIVE the novel a I crank out pages, and I will be keeping the Analytical Mind locked as far, far away as I can manage while I'm pounding out those pages.

However...!

When I make those notes on the printed version of my Outline denoting what type of scene I'm writing, my Analytical Mind will have something to do in the background while my Creative Mind is creating an immersive experience for me and (hopefully) the Reader!

So doing this comparison before I jump into the pages allows my Creative Mind to rest and gather its strength, and it allows my Analytical Mind to get involved in the process again, and then have something to occupy it while Creative Mind is playing blissfully on the page.

("Okay, I need you to keep count of all the blue cars that drive by.  Can you do that for me?  It's important that I know how many blue cars drove past while I was fixing this flat tire, so I'm trustig you to really pay attention and keep count for me, okay?")

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