Video: 3 Screenwriting Tips from ‘Gone Girl’

June 13th, 2016 by

I caught a video which went online the other day, the first in what promises to be a series called “Lessons from the Screenplay”. It analyzes the script for Gone Girl:

The video makes three points:

* Efficient action lines: Yes, efficiency is important, however the video makes another equally vital point: We have the right as screenwriters to comment on the moment in scene description. Take some of the examples cited from the movie Gone Girl:

Desi doesn’t invite him in. Strange charge in the air.

The last line is not anything an audience member could see or hear, so it is what is sometimes called an ‘unfilmable’. To scripteralists (my name for those writers who believe in screenwriting rules), this is verboten. However that is flat out wrong. For decades, pro screenwriters have used scene description to go inside a character’s thoughts, describe the emotion of the moment, drive home something going on underneath the surface of the scene, and so on.

Another example from the video:

Desi thinks Nick is guilty; Nick thinks Desi is innocent.

Again an ‘unfilmable’ and figuratively going inside each character’s mindset.

The video makes a good point in support of the writer providing some type of commentary at key moments in important scenes:

“You may notice the dialogue in the final film is different from the script. This happens frequently. The director or actor changes something on set. This is why it’s so important for the writer to set the tone of the scene in the script, so anyone making changes understand the context and intention of the original line.”

We have to be judicious in commenting on scenes. After all, we are writing a screenplay, not a novel, and a screenplay tells a story that is fundamentally an externalized reality, what we see (Action) and hear (Dialogue). However as I noted, Hollywood writers have used scene description to drive home atmosphere, tone, and the inner state of character’s emotional states for decades.

* The second point in the video: If the beginning of the scene frames what the scene is about, “The scene should then funnel down to a single point, with the most important word or line of dialogue stated last.”

This sounds an awfully lot like a rule, as if this is something you must do. I disagree with that because I contend there are no screenwriting rules, only conventions, patterns, expectations, etc. However there is some logic to this idea.

In scene-writing workshops I lead, there are six questions I have writers ask about each scene, the first one being this: What is the point of the scene? That helps the writer give focus to what transpires in the scene. As the scene will naturally have a Beginning, Middle, and End, generally speaking the scene will resolve around that point. Sometimes the last action line or line of dialogue can help drive home that point. Here is an example in the video from Gone Girl.

It’s a confrontation scene between Detective Bonney and Nick, the first line of dialogue from Bonney to Nick: Did you know she was pregnant?

The accusatory tone establishes the central conflict in the scene, Bonney pressing Nick as to what he does and does not know about his wife’s disappearance.

The middle of the scene is Bonney laying out one piece of potentially incriminating evidence after another at Nick until he throws his glass, shattering it on the floor.

The end of the scene is Nick saying: I don’t want to talk to you again… ever… without a lawyer.

One of the things we do in my workshops is look at which characters attempt to have control over other characters within a scene. Here Bonney assumes the power position from beginning through the middle of the scene. In the end, however, Nick asserts his control by insisting on having a lawyer present from now on.

In this case, the last line speaks to the point of the scene and is an effective closing line. However as always, best to think of this idea — last line expressing point of the scene — as a tool, not a rule.

* Subplot character.

“The subplot character… provides another opportunity to define the hero through comparison and advance the plot.”

The video goes on to say:

“Basically it’s a character that’s dealing with the same problem as the protagonist, but in a different way.”

The video identifies “two subplot characters” in Gone Girl, one of whom is Tommy, one of Amy’s ex-boyfriends who she accused of raping. The video does a good job in analyzing how the content of the Tommy’s backstory helps Nick understand the depths to which Amy is willing to go to achiever her ends. In my view, Tommy’s function in the story is Mentor precisely because he provides this insight, this ‘wisdom’ to Nick.

However I would argue there is another way to look at the idea of a subplot which is more expansive than the definition above. My principle is this: Subplot = Relationship. In other words, once you have established what the central plot is, every other significant interrelationship, especially those of characters in relation to the Protagonist, is itself a subplot, each with its own Beginning, Middle, and End, whether 2 scenes or 20, each with its own specific relevance to the story’s Plotline and Themeline, each with its own narrative function.

So in Gone Girl, I would argue there are many more subplots than 2:

* Nick and Bonney

* Nick and Desi

* Nick and his sister Margo

* Nick and the press

* Nick and his mistress

* Amy and Desi

* Amy, Greta and Jeff, the couple who rob Amy

And others. Each has its own arc and influence on the overall story.

A further benefit with this approach is that we take this story-crafting tool — subplot — and transform it into something human and personal: relationship. By exploring the relationship of Character A to the Protagonist, Character B to the Protagonist, we engage the story in a personal way, allowing our characters to emerge as distinct individuals, not mere extensions of a story formula to fit some preexisting scheme or paradigm.

The video is helpful and does highlight the importance of a script in the filmmaking process and on the value of quality screenwriting. It also touches on some points worthy of further exploration as noted above.

For the Lessons from the Screenplay YouTube site, go here.

What’s in a Scene: “Danny Collins”

May 16th, 2016 by

A guest post from Tom Benedek, screenwriter (Cocoon) and co-founder of Screenwriting Master Class:

Danny Collins passed by last year without too much attention perhaps. Al Pacino plays a rock star. Bobby Cannavale plays his son. It’s based on a true story.

Pacino has, in my opinion, one great scene in the film which made it all worthwhile for me. It is a small, but important kind of moment in the life spectrum – a scene of preparation – before something very important happens.

I won’t say ‘spoiler alert’ and describe it here. Sorry. I will just say that the scene and what follows it illustrate that there are different kinds of scenes, movie moments which need to be framed in different ways.

You may not discover how a scene needs to be constructed within a script until you it. Or you may know before you start writing what the shape has to be.

I have a one week class next week — Scene Writing Intensive — all about different kinds of scenes, how they function within a script structure. We’ll discuss that scene in Danny Collins and many more.

To learn more about Tom’s class, go here.

Screenwriting as Scene-Writing

October 5th, 2015 by

Every time we sit down to write a script, we are faced with a scene. This can be a daunting task considering a script may have 50, 60, 70 scenes or more. In a very real way, screenwriting is at its core scene-writing.

Therefore it is essential for you to know how to handle writing scenes.

Beginning next Monday, October 28, I will be offering my 1-week online screenwriting course, Core VI: Scene. It is part of the 8-part Core curriculum which itself comprises the foundation of the screenwriting theory I teach in The Quest.

This class presents key guidelines to help writers develop a deeper understanding of scenes — what they are, how they function, and most importantly how to approach writing them.

* Learn six fundamental questions you should ask about every scene as you construct and write it.

* Put theory into practice by workshopping some of your own original scenes.

Six lectures written by Scott Myers
Special insider tips
24/7 daily forum interaction
Workshop writing exercises with instructor and class feedback
A 90-minute live teleconference between instructor and class members

Plus you can workshop a logline of one of your original stories and post it for feedback.

So go here and sign up now.

I look forward to the opportunity to work with you!

To Write Better Scenes…

March 4th, 2015 by

A guest post from screenwriter Tom Benedek (Cocoon):

Scenes are the THE WATER of screenwriting.

The human body is more than 60 percent water. Blood is 92 percent water, the brain and muscles are 75 percent water, and bones are about 22 percent water.

A human can survive for a month or more without eating food, but only a week or so without drinking water.

A movie can survive for a few minutes with great cinematography, fine actors or movie stars, an interesting story. BUT if the scenes don’t work, the film will not play right. Solidly constructed scenes carry films. Great scenes lift them high, make them mighty.

None of us will ever have thought about scene writing too much.

Which brings me to Quentin Tarantino and my upcoming scene writing class. Oscar is not a fan of violent films. However, Quentin Tarantino took home his second career best screenplay Oscar last year. Tarantino is a filmmaker of great skill and audacity. He is also one of us – a wonderful screenwriter who beat the odds through his vision and skill as a storyteller, a writer of original screenplays of high caliber.

Next week, I will be running a very stimulating class – a study of scene writing, exclusively using Tarantino’s recent scripts to define certain characteristics of scene structure — to celebrate, learn and re-learn a few things about writing scenes.

The one week class starts on Monday, March 9. We will be looking exclusively at Tarantino’s uses of conflict, expository, flashback, indirection, subtext, all the rest of it. He speaks to the reader a lot. His movies are sometimes violent but they are also highly emotional – romantic in the way that old Hollywood action movies often are. I think it is going to be a fun and instructive class. There will be four lectures. Class members can each post a scene for feedback and a quick revision perhaps. I hope class members will also present their favorite Tarantino scenes for discussion – so we can break them down and see how and why they tick so well so often. We all may have a little bit of Tarantino in us to unchain as we write script pages.

Consider joining me for what should be a very interesting class.

As I say, “Screenwriting is scene-writing”. The combination of Tom’s expertise as a writer with over three decades experience working in Hollywood and insights gleamed from the scripts of Quentin Tarantino, this class promises to be a deeply rewarding experience.

For more information, go here.

Screenwriting as scene-writing

November 3rd, 2014 by

Every time we sit down to write a script, we are faced with a scene. This can be a daunting task considering a script may have 60, 75, 90 scenes or more. In a very real way, screenwriting is at its core scene-writing.

Therefore it is essential for you to know how to handle writing scenes.

Beginning next Monday, November 10, I will be offering my 1-week online screenwriting course, Core VI: Scene. It is part of the 8-part Core curriculum which itself comprises the foundation of the screenwriting theory I teach in The Quest.

This class presents key guidelines to help writers develop a deeper understanding of scenes — what they are, how they function, and most importantly how to approach writing them.

* Learn six fundamental questions you should ask about every scene as you construct and write it.

* Put theory into practice by workshopping some of your own original scenes.

Six lectures written by Scott Myers.
Special insider tips.
24/7 daily forum interaction.
Workshop writing exercises with instructor and class feedback.
A 90-minute live teleconference between instructor and class members.

Plus you can workshop a logline and post it for feedback.

So go here and sign up now.

I look forward to the opportunity to work with you!

Dumb Little Writing Tricks That Work: “Don’t Finish That Scene!”

October 28th, 2014 by

Let’s say you’re in the middle of writing a script – and it’s a slog. You’re finding it really tough to drag your ass onto the chair and start writing the next scene.

Well, let’s roll back the clock. What if yesterday, you hadn’t finished the previous scene? What if you got halfway through that scene, knew exactly where it needed to go to reach the end, but instead of completing it, you quit your writing session with the scene unfinished.

Now instead of starting the next day having to break a new scene, you have the easy task of finishing the scene from the day before.

Bada-bing, bada-boom, you knock out the ending to the scene, giving your mind and your fingers a chance to warm up — and now you’re ready to charge ahead.

So the trick is stop each writing session in the middle of a scene. That way you can start the next session with the ‘positive’ experience of finishing a scene.

This has been the inaugural edition of “Dumb Little Writing Tricks That Work.”

[Originally posted September 23, 2008]

How to Write a Scene: Part 2

September 3rd, 2014 by

So yesterday, I blogged about the fact that at a fundamental level, screenwriting is scene-writing. What emerged in the post and comments is a kind of checklist to use when crafting a scene.

That brought to mind an interesting thread of events involving screenwriter John August. In 2007, John posted this on his blog:

One of the thing I admire most about Jane Espenson’s blog is that she talks very directly about the words on the page, giving names to techniques I use but never really think about. The two-percenter, for example.

So one of my goals for 2007 is to get a little more granular in my advice-giving, and talk less about Screenwriting and more about screenwriting — in particular, scene writing.

Spend a few years as a screenwriter, and writing a scene becomes an almost unconscious process. It’s like driving a car. Most of us don’t think about the ignition and the pedals and the turn signals — but we used to, back when we were learning. It used to flummox the hell out of us. Every intersection was unbelievably stressful, with worries of stalling the car and/or killing everyone on board.

It’s the same with writing a scene. The first few are brutal and clumsy. But once you’ve written (and rewritten) say, 500 scenes, the individual steps sort of vanish. But they’re still there, under the surface. It’s just that your instinct is making a lot of the decisions your conscious brain used to handle.

So here’s my attempt to introspect and describe what I’m doing that I’m not even aware I’m doing. Here’s How to Write a Scene.

Which led to this, an infographic. But that resulted in this:

Both versions are useful. The blog post is detailed; the infographic is handy. But screenwriter Zak Penn asked for something in-between:

Can you send me PDF of your scene writing checklist? Want to use when I speak to students, thought it was excellent.

It’s a good idea. So here’s the original post, slightly edited and reformatted to fit onto two pages you can print or email.

To wit, here it is:

John August Big write-scene

And you can download a PDF of the infographic here.

So another checklist, this one from a renowned Hollywood screenwriter. Which of these questions and scene-writing tips resonate most with you?

How to Write a Scene: Part 1

September 2nd, 2014 by

I just started a new semester teaching my college students. The class is called Master Screenwriting and in it, each writer will pound out the first draft of an original feature-length screenplay. Every week, we read aloud their pages, critique them, then brainstorm ways to make them better, and I use their scripts to make points about screenwriting theory. Plus each student covers a Black List script, researches a Hollywood studio or major production company, at least two Skype conversations with industry insiders, movie screenings… in other words, lots of learning, lots of fun.

In the process, these young writers discover a fundamental truth: Screenwriting is scene-writing. Last week, I ran through several key questions they should ask about each scene to help focus their writing and make sure their scenes move the story forward in an entertaining way.

Thus I was intrigued by something mafatty79 wrote in comments on a recent post featuring the movie Blade Runner:

Checkpoints for analyzing a scene:

1. T.E. – Transitional elements. Is there a way to make a transitional element interesting and additive to a story element (tone, theme, ambiance, etc,)

2. V.I. – Visually interesting. What about the action description is visually interesting? It can be a little thing, as with the origami folding in Blade Runner. Each scene, if possible, should have some big or little thing that is visually interesting and adds to story elements (tone, theme, ambiance, character revelation, etc.)?

3. C.U. – Character Uniqueness. What hint, or reveal, is there which teaches us something about a character?

4. A.C. – Action. What about the scene’s action is interesting/central to the story and moves it forward; what conflict or question is raised?

This got me thinking about crowd-sourcing tips about how to write a scene. So here we are. What do you think of these four checkpoints? I think they’re quite helpful. How about you?

And what do you consider when writing a scene? Do you have any goals in mind? Any techniques to help you write consistently strong scenes?

I’ve titled this post Part 1 because there’s a lot to be said on this subject. Let’s see what bubbles up in our conversation, maybe carry it over for another day or two.

What advice or concerns do you have about writing scenes?

Screenwriting Back to Basics, Day 1: Writing Scenes

June 16th, 2014 by

With every scene, you should ask yourself this question:

What is the scene’s Beginning, Middle, and End?

Just as we think of a story with three acts or movements, so each scene has its own tripartite structure. Therefore as we approach working out a scene, we need to think about what constitutes each of its three parts.

A master at this is writer-director James L. Brooks (Terms of Endearment, As Good As It Gets). From his wonderful movie Broadcast News, let’s look at how he introduces the three major characters in the story: Tom Grunick (William Hurt), Aaron Altman (Albert Brooks), and Jane Craig (Holly Hunter). Brooks creates a story opening in which he juxtaposes the three characters as young people, selecting a revelatory moment in each of their lives that provides insight into what is at the core of their being. First Tom:



A restaurant supply truck is curbside, near a small
restaurant. GERALD GRUNICK, forty-one, is closing the back
door of his truck, feeling good about the world, a common
state for him. He moves towards the cab of the truck and gets
inside as we SUPER:



As he sits down beaming over his recent good fortune... now we
REVEAL his twelve-year-old son, TOM, seated quietly beside him.
He seems a bit down. Gerald glances at his son.

I don't know a recent Saturday I've
sold more. You didn't think I'd
sell that health restaurant, did you?

No. Not even you.

Why so glum?

I don't know.

(a beat)
Go ahead.

No, nothing. I've got a problem,
I guess.

Were you bothering by those
waitresses making a fuss?

No. But, honest. What are you
supposed to say when they keep
talking about your looks? I don't
even know what they mean -- "Beat
them off with a stick."

Gerald stiffs a grin.

You know, Tom, I feel a little
proud when people comment on your
looks. Maybe you should feel that

Proud? I'm just embarrassed that
I like when they say those things.

As long as that's your only problem

It's not.

He looks directly at his father and talks quietly, and sincerely.

I got my report card. Three Cs,
two Ds and an incomplete.

Oh my. I see you studying so hard,
Tom. What do you think the problem is?

I'll just have to try harder. I don't
know. I will.
(talking himself
into it)
I will. I will. I will.

He shakes his head for emphasis, glad he's received this pep
talk from himself -- he hands the card to his father.

Thanks, Dad, this talk helped. Will
you sign it, please?

(as he signs)
Would it help if I got you a tutor?

(suddenly hopeful)
That would be great.
It better help. What can you do with
yourself if all you do is look good?



Beginning: Tom unnerved about people’s reactions to his good looks.

Middle: Tom’s poor performance in school.

Ending: The father signs the report card and offers to get Tom a tutor.

Key note: Each beat in the scene has its own emotional center. The Beginning is Tom’s embarrassment about his good looks. The Middle is Tom’s despondence about his grades. The Ending is Tom’s elation about getting a tutor. As such, there is a flow of these emotions as Brooks takes us on a little psychological journey with an upbeat ending to transition us out of the scene and into the next, where he introduces Aaron:


BOSTON, MASS. - 1965


AARON ALTMAN, looking almost preposterously young in his
graduation gown -- is delivering his valedictory. He is a
rare bread -- a battle-scarred innocent.

...and finally to the teachers of
Whitman High School, I don't have the
words to express my gratitude which
may have more to say about the quality
of the English Department here than
my own limitations...

He awaits a laugh and gets only the weird sound of collective

...that was, of course, not meant to
be taken seriously. A personal note.
I am frequently asked what the special
difficulties are in being graduated
from High School two months shy of my
fifteenth birthday. I sometimes
think it was the difficulties
themselves which enabled me to do it.
If I'd been appreciated or even tolerated
I wouldn't have been in such a hurry to
graduate. I hope the next student who
comes along and is able to excel isn't
made to feel so much an outcast. But
I'm looking forward to college; this is
the happiest day I've had in a long
time. I thank you and I forgive you.

This is very little applause.


I'm always so confused by Aaron.
Is he brave and earnest or just
a conceited little dick-head?



As Aaron walks to his seat past three full grown tough looking
semi-literate high school graduates.

Later, Aaron.


Clusters of graduates at the fence bordering the sunken school
yard looking down as the tough cap and gowners seen earlier
cuff Aaron around.


Aaron feeling from a blow -- his lip bleeding -- his teeth
covered with he gets to his feet. He is livid --
something primal triggered by this brutality.

Go ahead, Stephen -- take your
last licks.
(points at his
But this will heal -- what I'm
going to say to you will scar you
forever. Ready? Here it is.

He dodges as they come after him. They catch him by the hair
and hurl him to the ground. As he gets up he hurls his
devastating verbal blow.

You'll never make more than
nineteen thousand dollars a year.
Ha ha ha.

They twist his arm and grip him -- his face scraped on the

Okay, take this: You'll never
leave South Boston and I'm going
to see the whole damn world. You'll
never know the pleasure of writing
a graceful sentence or having an
original thought. Think about it.

He's punched in the stomach and sinks to the ground. As the
Young Toughs walk off Aaron catches a phrase of their

Nineteen thousand dollars...
Not bad.

Beginning: Aaron’s honest, yet abrasive speech to his so-called peers and teachers.

Middle: The toughs pounding Aaron.

Ending: Aaron’s verbal retort to the toughs.

Key note: Again each of the three parts of this scene has its own emotional center. The Beginning is the awkwardness of Aaron’s speech. The Middle is the pain Aaron suffers at the hands of his attackers. The End is the humiliation Aaron directs at the toughs, even if they’re not insightful enough to discern the truth of Aaron’s comments (“Nineteen thousand dollars… not bad”). So as with the previous scene, there is an emotional flow to the scene with an upbeat ending. Now for the introduction of the story’s Protagonist Jane:




JANE CRAIG, ten years old, is in her room typing. Above the
desk where she works is a bulletin board with letters and
pictures tacked to each one. Her desk has several file racks
which contain bulging but neat stacks of air mail envelopes --
a roll of stamps in a dispenser is to one side. Jane types
very well in the glare of her desk lamp.

(voice over; as
she types)
Dear Felatzia, it's truly amazing
to me that we live a world apart
and yet have the same favorite music.
I loved the picture you sent and
have it up on my bulletin board.
You're growing so much faster than
I am that I...


SHOWING Jane's FATHER standing near the door.

(voice over) starting to get jealous.
I read in the newspapers about
the Italian strike and riots in
Milan. I hope you weren't...


Jane SCREAMS, and grabs her heart, breathing heavily, babbles
nervously at her Dad.

Oh God -- Daddy -- don't...don't...
don't ever scare me like that --


Her father is himself taken aback with the shock of her reaction.
Falling back towards the door:

Jane -- For God's sake...
Look, it's time for you to go
to sleep.

I just have two more pen pals and
then I'm done.

You don't have to finish tonight.

(he doesn't get in)
Nooo. This way the rotation stays
the same.

Finish quickly. I don't want you
getting obsessive about these
things. Good night.

We REMAIN WITH Jane who has obviously become disconcerted and


As Jane moves to room at the other end of the hall -- a family
room where her Father reads the latest Rolling Stone of the
mid-60's -- Hunter Thompson, the New Journalism, the slim
Jann Wenner -- Jane bursts into the room.

Dad, you want me to choose my words
so carefully and then you just throw
a word like 'obsessive' at me. Now,
unless I'm wrong and...
...please correct me if I am, 'obsession'
is practically a psychiatric term...
concerning people who don't have anything
else but the object of their obsession --
who can't stop and do anything else. Well,
Here I am stopping to tell you this. Okay?
So would you please try and be a little
more precise instead of calling a person
something like 'obsessive.'

She advances furiously on her Father since even this strung out,
even with two additional pen pal letters to get off, she had
enough sense of duty to kiss him good night before storming from
the room. She exits the room INTO BLACK.

Beginning: Jane busily writing one of her pen pals.

Middle: Jane’s heightened reaction to her father’s interruption.

Ending: Jane correcting her father’s misuse of the word “obsessive.”

Key note: Yet again, each of the scene’s three parts has its own emotional center. The Beginning is the sheer happiness Jane feels as she reaches out to one of her pen pals. The Middle is the conflict between father and daughter over her behavior. The ending turns the tables as the child parents the parent, providing yet another little psychological journey, topped off with Jane kissing her father, an upbeat resolution to the scene.

Furthermore this Script Opening sequence has its own Beginning, Middle, and End as constituted by Tom’s scene (Beginning), Aaron’s scene (Middle), and Jane’s scene (End).

So a back to basics reminder: When you approach writing any scene, ask yourself, “What is the scene’s Beginning, Middle, and End.”

This week, I’ll be posting something every day to remind us of a fundamental principle of screenwriting, just to make sure we’re not overlooking something obvious.

“Each scene must be a drama in itself”

November 27th, 2013 by

“Each scene must be a drama in itself. The whole picture must be made up of a series of small dramas. This makes the completed picture a mosaic of little ones. Scenes that have no dramatic value in them, or say nothing, must be eliminated. So the scenario writer must bear in mind at all times not what he can put into a picture, but what he can leave out.”

This from Jeanie Macpherson, actor and screenwriter from the silent picture era with over 200 movie credits. Thus her words have heft. Let’s parse those words.

We have a series of imperatives:

1. Each scene must be a drama in itself.

2. The whole picture must be made up of a series of small dramas. This makes the completed picture a mosaic of little ones.

3. Scenes that have no dramatic value in them, or say nothing, must be eliminated.

4. So the scenario writer must bear in mind at all times not what he can put into a picture, but what he can leave out.

This really is the Grand Slam of scene-writing advice.

As you write your first draft, you may grind out some scenes that are imperfect. That’s okay. Just. Keep. Writing. But honestly assess the scene and make a note about its problematic nature, flagging it for the rewrite.

Meanwhile as forge ahead, be mindful of this point:

“Each scene must be a drama in itself.”

I encourage you to head to comments to discuss today’s questions. And for a related discussion on The Black Board, check out these topics:

The Quest” has entered Week 20! And so did Go On Your Own Quest, an opportunity for anyone to follow the structure of “The Quest” to dig into screenwriting theory [Core – 8 weeks], figure out your story [Prep – 6 weeks], and write a first draft [Pages – 10 weeks]. It’s a 24-week immersion in the screenwriting process and you can do it here – for free!

Today and every Monday through Friday for 10 weeks, I’ll use this slot to post something inspirational as GOYOQ participants pound out their first drafts.

Why not use the structure of this 24-week workshop to Go On Your Own Quest? That was an idea that gathered energy among many members of the GITS community which I described here.

For more information on Go On Your Own Quest, go here.

Plus you can join The Black Board, the Official Online Writing Community of the Black List and Go Into The Story, another free resource to help keep you inspired and on target at you Go On Your Own Quest from FADE IN to FADE OUT on the first draft of your original screenplay.