Showing posts with label Creative Writing Guild. Show all posts

Saturday, January 25, 2025

2025

This is an updated draft of my new re-write, which I hope will land me on a completed novel this time.

See Darrell's Writing Plan for 2025 ~ Darrell Wolfe, Storyteller for my current writing plan and the background behind this new attempt.

Written January 25, 2025 by Darrell G Wolfe

Beat Sheet, Creative Writing Guild, distortion, Outline, White Noise, Writing, Writing Craft, Writing Practice No comments

Tuesday, November 28, 2023

Taking Story Structure Notes

I'm watching videos and taking notes on writing novels, screenplays, and stories. The following are links to the various elements I've been re-learning and re-membering.

This Excel-Based Story Structure Template (link here) is based on my research and listening to multiple authors speak. Most of it is KM Weiland, but there have been elements I learned from others too.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Research (will be updating as I go):

YouTube Video: 21 Ways To Structure A Screenplay [WRITING MASTERCLASS]

6-Stage Plot Structure by Michael Hauge

24- Beats overlaid with the KM Weiland Story Structure

ACT 1 pp - Hook
pp
pp
pp
pp
pp
ACT 2a pp 1st Plot Point
pp
pp
pp - 1st Pinch Point
pp
pp
ACT 2b pp - MIDPOINT 2nd Plot Point
pp
pp
pp - 2nd Pinch Point
pp
pp
ACT 3 pp 3rd Plot Point > Increase Pacing
pp
pp
pp - CLIMAX begins
pp - Climactic Moment - Final Final Moment, nothing can keep going after this.
pp - Fade Out, Resolve, New Normal

4-Archetypes, 4 Central Questions, 4-Act Structure:

Act 1 - Who's your main character? - Orphan Phase
Act 2 - What are they trying to accomplish? - Wanderer Phase
Act 3 - Who's trying to stop them? - Warrior Phase
Act 4 - What happens if they fail? - Martyr Phase

BMOC

Peter Russell's BMOC screenwriting technique stands for "Big Moment of Change." It's a principle used in screenwriting and storytelling that focuses on the key moments in a narrative where significant changes occur. These moments are crucial in driving the plot forward and developing characters. In the context of storytelling, a Big Moment of Change typically represents a turning point in the story or a major event that alters the trajectory of the narrative or the characters' journey.

What is my Character's Big Moment of Change?

OR --

BMOC

Beginning
Middle
Obstacle
Conflict

Other Research and References:

The Seven-Point Story Structure: From Idea to Plot in 5 Steps, by ReedsyBlog

7-Act Structure

The Hook: a compelling introduction to the story’s intriguing world and/or characters
Plot Turn 1: an inciting incident that brings the protagonist into an adventure
Pinch 1: the stakes are raised with the introduction of the antagonist or the major conflict
Midpoint: a turning point in the story where the protagonist goes from reaction to action
Pinch 2: the major conflict takes a turn for the worse, and all appears lost for the protagonist
Plot Turn 2: the protagonist discovers something that helps them resolve the major conflict or defeat the antagonist
Resolution: the major conflict is resolved, and the antagonist is defeated.

Structuring Your Novel Visual Chart by KM Weiland

How to Use Seven-Point Story Structure in Your Writing, by MasterClass

5 Tips for Writing a Seven-Point Plot Structure

Whether you’re starting a story from scratch or trying to map out a work in progress, use the seven points to help structure your story. Not only will they make it easier for you to write, they will help create a readable, coherent storyline for your audience to follow. While there are plenty of helpful resources for fiction writing and screenwriting, beginning with these five writing tips will help you apply the seven point structure to your story:

1. Work backwards. With the seven-point story structure, start at the end. Determine how the climax plays out and where your character ends up. Mapping out your destination first allows you to navigate the rest of the story as you write.
2. Create your hook. With your ending established, go back and start at the beginning.
3. Write the midpoint of your story. With the beginning and ending anchors of your story in place, tackle the midpoint. Figure out what events will serve as the turning point for your protagonist.
4. Flesh out all the details in between. With your three main events mapped out, begin to connect the dots of your story by writing the details of your pinch points. Use these moments to focus on deepening your character development and visit your subplots.
5. Apply this structure to all of your writing. From sci-fi to suspense, novels to short stories, the seven point structure can apply to any story you write. To really get a grasp of how these seven pivotal events propel a story, read books and watch movies with a pen and paper in hand. Write down the seven points in each to study how writers use this structure to tell a story.

See also, KindlePreneur's explanation of these same concepts.

The 7-Point Story Structure + Variations: A Blueprint For Plotting in Any Genre, By B.K. Bass

What Are the 7 Points?

The 7 points of Dan Wells’ 7 narrative structure are:

Hook: The status quo is explored.
Plot Turn 1: An inciting incident kicks off the story.
Pinch 1: The situation escalates.
Midpoint: The protagonist shifts from being reactive to proactive.
Pinch 2: A major setback occurs.
Plot Turn 2: The key to victory is discovered.
Resolution: The conflict is resolved.

YouTube: Dan Wells on Story Structure

Shalom: Live Long and Prosper!

Darrell Wolfe (DG Wolfe)

Storyteller | Writer | Thinker | Consultant @ DarrellWolfe.com

Clifton StrengthsFinder: Intellection, Learner, Ideation, Achiever, Input
16Personalities (Myers-Briggs Type): INFJ

Written November 28, 2023 by Darrell G Wolfe

Creative Writing Guild, White Noise, Writing, Writing Craft, Writing Practice No comments

Saturday, January 8, 2022

Superman brings Freedom?

*Dreams are weird… Let me tell you about the one I had this morning. While I could theologize it, I think I'm just going to let it do it's own work. Enjoy.

***

The zing of metallic sulfur hung in the air after the warning shots had been fired into a nearby parked car.

Clark’s stomach turned in knots at the decision in front of him.

Lex Luther had Louse Lane and Jimmy on their knees to each side of him, just in front. He fired the warning shots to make sure he had Clark’s full attention. He was wearing Kryptonite, large and obvious, in a necklace, but that was just for show. The cars up and down the streets were holding it in their open trunks, ensuring Clark would be weakened upon approaching the scene from any reasonable distance.

“Well, Superman, or should I say Clark,” Lex said via loudspeaker. “This is how it ends.” He cracked a nauseating smile.

Lex had figured out Superman’s secret identity and issued the challenge via live media coverage.

“I mean, with facial recognition programming what it is now, the average computer Geek probably would’ve figured this out by now.” Clark quipped to his boss, Perry White, as they watched the scene live from the news van, just before Clark walked out and down the street. “If I ever decided to have a private life, it would take wearing masks, and those are so uncomfortable.”

Perry offered a sympathetic laugh.

Clark made a decision, his stomach tension eased, but the sense of dread over the outcome of this decision crept up his spine, and crawled on his skin.

“It’s been nice knowing you Perry. I’m sorry for the way things are about to turn out.” Clark offered a weak smile, set his glasses down on the table, nodded, and walked out of the van onto the street.

Hundreds had left their buildings to huddle in the street, thousands watched from windows in the towering metropolis high-rises.

TV cameras were covering the scene from every angle, Lex had called in the media before announcing to the world he would take down superman.

The plan was ingenuous, really.

Simple.

Elegant.

Unable to approach without being weakened, he would be incapable of saving both. Theoretically, he could fly fast enough that he could snatch one before the bullet reached them and the Kryptonite would affect his abilities. But, he could never reach both in time. They were too far apart for him to get both, and he couldn’t stop and pivot without loosing the momentum and having the Kryptonite trap him there.

The arm-chair quarterbacks would watch this footage a thousand times and come up with solutions that Clark hadn’t considered, but he was under pressure, time was of the essence, and he had enough of this.

“Enough!” Clark yelled loud enough for the whole block to hear. As he walked down the street, he tore off his white dress shirt for the last time, buttons ripped and flew as he would never need it again. Underneath his suit was the iconic Superman uniform. He ripped the sleeves from this uniform too, and ripped the iconic S in half. The S stood for “hope” on Krypton, but hope died this day.

Hope for a better world…

Hope for a world in which he could love his enemies, just like the Prophet had asked many years ago, according to his mother.

Hope that he could just arrest all the bad men, when they would just get out on technicalities.

Hope… died in Clark that day.

It was time for a new tact, one he had intentionally and publicly and proudly avoided for his entire season as “Superman”.

Men like Lex Luther would keep cropping up, and the failed Justice Systems would keep letting them out, or letting them operate their empires from within the Prison walls. No, it was time for a new Justice.

Not everyone would understand, but that didn’t matter anymore.

Someone may succeed in stopping him one day, but he was going to clean up the world’s scum.

“So…” Lex said, “Which is it going to be? Are you going to choose Louise or Jim- .” But his voice was cut short.

Lex looked down in horror, both hands had been removed by lazer beams from Superman’s eyes.

He fell to the ground in pain.

“Lex, the world doesn’t need you, it never did. And I’m done offering you chances to repent.” Clark turned to a nearby camera, looked straight into the lens, “Every last criminal on earth, anyone who has caused another pain, I’m coming for you next.”

Then, turning back in Lex’s direction, Clark let out a single blast of from his eyes.

Lex’s eyes opened wide, gasping, but no sound came from his mouth. A huge hole where his chest once stood, and a breath later, he slumped over and fell to the ground.

A tear fell from his cheek, as Clark nodded to Louise and Jimmy, and then he took off into the air.

He didn’t plan on becoming Emperor Clark that day…

Clark strode down the aisle of his fortress, black cape gracing the floor, thinking back to that day, he grabbed the windowsill, sighing at the outcome. He looked over his empire, listening for the slightest sound of mistreatment of one of his citizens.

Another tear rolled down his beard, no grayer than it was 300-years ago, remembering Louise’s International Funeral 50-years into his reign.

This is how freedom died, to save the world.

****

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Shalom: Live Long and Prosper!

Darrell Wolfe (DG Wolfe)

Storyteller | Writer | Thinker | Consultant @ DarrellWolfe.com

Clifton StrengthsFinder: Intellection, Learner, Ideation, Achiever, Input
16Personalities (Myers-Briggs Type): INFJ

Written January 08, 2022 by Darrell G Wolfe

Creative Writing Guild No comments

Friday, April 22, 2011

Paper

He stood before an audience of 3,000. He took out a blank notebook and slowly, ceremoniously, ripped out a piece of paper. The sound carried across the auditorium through his lapel mic. He never tired of this demonstration. He held out this paper over his head. Walking down passed the first 100 seat section, he stopped in near a disinterested young man in his late teens. “Excuse me, young man,” He prodded. “could you tell me what this is?” The teen looked up as he handed him the paper. “It’s a piece of paper” The young man replied un-amused. “It is?” the speaker replied. The speaker prodded further, “Is that all it is? Is that all you see?” The teen looked it over, and turned it around a few times. “A blank piece of paper?” The teen asked as if he wasn’t getting the question.

“Does anybody else see anything differently?” the speaker took the paper back and held it up again. He waited a beat before moving on. “I don’t see a blank piece of paper. I see money!” The teen must have thought it an interesting thing to say as he sat up a little straighter and leaned forward. He removed his hood to reveal a snake tattoo rotating around from his ear around his neck to the opposite shoulder and large holes in his ears.

“Potential” the speaker began to expound. “All things big or small begin as potential. This paper could be a battle plan for an expert tactician, a play in the play book of a head coach, or a new hit song or popular novel. This paper could just as easily…” he began to rip strips of paper off and crumple it before tossing it over his shoulder to the floor behind. “…be trash. Yesterday’s big ideas. How many people ever envisioned something only to see it on the market later. How many writers considered small electronic handheld devices that could carry a voice and images over distance to other hand held devices before the first cell phones hit the markets? Ideas are not enough. They must be carried out.” He held one last strip “This is a new invention” and he crumpled it u and flicked it at the teen. “Young man..” he turned. “Please examine that”

He waited as the teen turned it over a few times. “Would you like to keep it or toss it?” The speaker asked with a wink. “The teen was not appreciating the attention and threw it at the speakers chest. “Toss it!” the teen replied. The paper hit his chest and landed on the floor in front of him. “OK, the young man doesn’t want to be an inventor. Anyone else care to examine the trashed idea?” A few moments of expectant silence followed. Finally a young girl, about ten, stepped into the aisle a few rows back. “I would” she said. Her mother motioned her back but the speaker had already motioned her forward and she was stepping up to the paper, smiling. She looked at the wad of paper as though at any moment it might explode into fireworks or some great magic.

The speaker winked at her and smiled, he kicked it with his toe at her and turned to walk away. The young girl stepped up to it and picked it up from the floor. “I think” she began, and the speaker stopped and looked back over his shoulder, “I see a cave” she said finally. “Really?” the speaker turned all the way back to her. “And?” Her small face contorted into an exaggerated look of concentration. “Inside” she began again “ see a Dragon. He is a tall Dragon, stately looking, but with a broken wing. He is green and he is hiding from a man in the cave.”

The speaker then pressed her further, “Is the man in the cave or the Dragon?” To which the girl replied “The Dragon of course.” She smiled. “I DO believe this young girl may be the smarted person in the whole room today!” he exclaimed. He waited a moment to let the rooms attention build. He turned back to her, egging her on to produce more details and finally he yelled as though we really were on a mission to protect this very real Dragon… “HURRY! Enter the cave! He must be protected at all costs!” It was now he and she in the room. He treated the rest of the room as though they didn’t exist for the moment. The girls expression was dramatic and excited she opened the wad and stopped suddenly. The whole audience was enraptured with the scene.

She examined the wad as she pulled out from it’s crevices a small bit of green. “We have found the dragon!” he said triumphantly. It too was paper and she revealed it to the audience as she unfolded it. A $100 bill. “That” he said softly over his mic, “is for having a vision my young girl. Go find your dragon and get me the rest of that story.”

15 years later

25 year old Victoria De La Corazon sat huddled over a desk, cheek pasted to her notebook. The other cheek was lighted softly by the blue hue of her computer monitor. She was still wearing her sever uniform from Denny’s, she didn’t bother changing when she got home because she wanted to get to her desk immediately, back to her dragon. She had fallen asleep as fire was clashing against shield. The first signs of morning now showing against her far wall, Vicky as they called her, began to stir. She grabbed her notebook and loaded her school bags and rushed for a quick shower and change.

She had spent 7 years working on her degree from the local State University. She had to attend part time, as she worked full time to pay for school and apartment. One week from now she would graduate. She already had 5 major publishers giving firm offers for well paying jobs as an editor and book reviewer, due in no small part to her dear professor Charles Stanfield. She was among his best and brightest students. She could still recall the day she met him, in an auditorium full of people. It wasn’t the $100 that sparked her love for him, it was his belief in her. Now she was studying under him. As images of street signs and store fronts passed her through the window of the public bus she rode to school each morning, her thoughts drifted to another world, full of mystery and dragons and fighting for survival.

Professor Charles, now President of the “Creative Writing Guild” and Head Dean for the school of fiction authors at the university, was now reclining in his dungeon.

Written April 22, 2011 by Darrell G Wolfe

Creative Writing Guild No comments

Paper

15 years later

Professor Charles, now President of the “Creative Writing Guild” and Head Dean for the school of fiction authors at the university, was now reclining in his dungeon.