My Sci-Fi Circuit article on ScriptMag (part II of II) originally published on August 30, 2013.
This is a continuation of my last article, "Sci-Fi Circuit: Sci-Fi Storytelling, Part I -- Story Type, Mistakes, & Big Ideas", with screenwriting mentor Chris Soth. In Part 2 of this series, we'll explore the classic structure of a sci-fi screenplay, talk about an overlooked aspect budgetary considerations, and look at coming up with the next big sci-fi idea.
Structuring Your Sci-Fi Screenplay
As we discussed last week, Chris uses ten story types along with his mini-movie method to structure a screenplay. For sci-fi, he uses a supernatural story type(read more about what this means and why he uses it in last week's article).
The Opening
First, make it clear this is a supernatural sci-fi story. Chris says, "A supernatural story will have something supernatural occurring in the prologue or opening to demonstrate that the supernatural exists here. In a sci-fi story we might see advanced scientific phenomenon that defies laws of physics as we know them."
For example, Chris says, in the The Terminator, the time travel "bubble" appears right away with the Terminator. "Arriving naked in his blue electric bubble, he appears in our time. We know from perhaps the first frame that something supernatural is occurring."
So the movie begins with something to state the rules of this world -- something that doesn't exist in our present-day lives.
Other examples could include seeing a monster or an alien right away (Men In Black) or an asteroid headed toward Earth (Armageddon), or a space ship mining vessel being hailed from an nearby planetoid (Alien).
Often these openings do not feature the protagonist of the story. As an example Chris describes Men In Black, "It opens with illegals trying to cross the border from Mexico into the United States -- but they are space aliens. In that first scene, we see that aliens do live among us, and that we have an agency that deals with these space aliens and documents them. Those rules are set right away in the first scene." And Will Smith, our protagonist, does not appear in that sequence.
End of the First Sequence
Then, "about 15 minutes into the story (or about 15 pages in), the protagonist will be confronted with a vestige or repercussion of this same supernatural phenomenon and realize that something strange -- something scientifically unnatural -- is going on." The protagonist will be the reluctant hero who doesn’t want to deal with this phenomenon in his own world.
Sarah Connor (Linda Hamilton) meets Kyle Reese (Michael Biehn) at this point in The Terminator. In Men In Black, Kay ( Tommy Lee Jones) meets the future Jay (Will Smith) and invites him to come to work with him.
End of the First Act
By end of first act, "our reluctant protagonist is locked in to taking action to deal with this supernatural phenomenon," like Sarah Connor is locked in to staying with Kyle Reese in The Terminator -- he's her only chance for survival.
At the end of the first act in Men In Black, Jay has become "locked in" to the MIB with the removal of his fingerprints and the erasure of his identity.
The Second Act
In the second act, the protagonist battles the supernatural phenomenon. This might look like a series of battles between alien and human spaceships (Independence Day) or between the protagonist and a monster (antagonist) (The Terminator or Aliens).
"At the midpoint," Chris explains, "classically, there will be an unexpected expansion on the rules of the supernatural or sci-fi phenomenon. For example, in Alien, the creature grows much, much faster than anyone thinks is possible."
"Or in The Terminator, Sarah is told she’ll be mother of the savior of the human race, John Connor. At the midpoint, there's a sex scene between her and Kyle Reese, and we realize he’s conceived then. She is now bearing the progeny of future, fathered by his own best friend -- an unexpected consequence of the supernatural phenomenon."
End of the Second Act
At the end of Act 2, this phenomenon threatens to destroy our hero and the world.
To develop the low point at the end of Act Two (as well as all your structure beats), Chris recommends asking yourself, "What is this idea? How is the world different? What would it be like to live in a world like that? At end of second act, how could that spin out of control and threaten to destroy the world?"
For example, The Planet of the Apes movies delves into the question of "What if we had apes who were our slaves? Then they might revolt and overthrow us and become the masters of the human race" to come up with the low point at the end of Act Two.
The Third Act
In Act 3, "very generally, there is a battle in which the hero destroys and vanquishes the supernatural power or is vanquished and destroyed by by it. Or she or he goes up against an enemy with a similar power. At a minimum, the phenomenon will destroy our hero or change him or her, and the world, forever."
Budget Considerations
Although sci-fi is typically thought of as something only big studios can do, Chris points out that "Everybody makes an indie movie to react against what studios can with supernatural and sci fi, and yes, it's true you can’t do what the studios can do with big budgets. But you can have aliens. You can write to budget. There are movies that feature aliens that look like human beings but are defined as aliens. You could make a movie about an alien who came to dinner for same price as a movie about anybody who came to dinner. Look for sci-fi conceits that don’t rack up huge effects budgets. There are some good low budget sci-fi films out there, like Safety Not Guaranteed."
He also mentions the importance of knowing "what's been done." If you're writing a big budget script, give some thought to "pre-branding" with a novel, a graphic novels, or webisodes if possible. It's useful to have the project perceived as a success in another area before trying to sell it as a big budget screenplay. Luckily, he points out, "there's a lot of precedent for success in the sci-fi genre. It's got the biggest franchises in the world, like Star Wars. The supernatural story paradigm is huge and beats everything up -- it's a huge part of the box office every day."
Be On the Look Out For the Next New Idea
Chris says "the real excitement in sci-fi is coming up with the new idea. As technology advances, that’s where sci-fi ideas are going to come from, like magical cell phones that get smarter and smarter, the technology we all run into every day. Super powers people have that can be given a scientific explanation, like Superman, which is actually a sci-fi conceit -- he is an alien after all, come here from a different planet in a spaceship. Tony Stark of Iron Man is all about the technology. Avatar came the closest to being something new. It was a new type of sci-fi story (that verges on fantasy) made by setting a classic revolt story on an entirely different world."
And while you're at it, Chris advises, "Always ask yourself, what’s this got to do with people and humanity now? How is this a metaphor for understanding the human condition? Use sci-fi to reveal the truth about the world as it is now. For example, you might regret a past action, keep revisiting it, and but then realize you would do it again the same way." That idea could be explored in a time travel story.
Thank you, Chris!
About Chris Soth
Chris Soth is a writer, director, and producer who has authored over 28 screenplays and is a frequent speaker on the topics of story structure and independent filmmaking, teaching screenwriters around the world how to write great screenplays and pitch them for success. Chris is the writer of Firestorm, released by 20th Century Fox, and the independent hit Outrage: Born In Terror. He has taught at USC and UCLA, and has guided screenwriters from concept to FADE OUT using the “Mini-Movie Method” through his mentorship program. He is the author of the ebook “Million-Dollar Screenwriting: The Mini-Movie Method.”
My Sci-Fi Circuit article on ScriptMag (part I of II) originally published on August 16, 2013.
When it comes to screenwriting structure, “Mini-Movie Method” guru and screenwriting mentor Chris Soth (Firestorm) is one of the best. I’ve been astounded listening to him break a logline into a plausible screenplay in mere minutes using his mini-movie methodology, including the dreaded second act so many screenwriters struggle over.
Knowing Chris as a master of structure (he is one of my screenwriting mentors), I reached out to him to talk sci-fi and the mistakes he commonly sees sci-fi screenwriters making, what it takes to structure a solid screenplay in the genre, and what he sees as the next untapped realms in sci-fi.
In Part 1 of this two-part series, Chris and I talk about the sci-fi story type he uses and the mistakes he sees writers making around their sci-fi “rules,” including not sticking to one big idea.
In Part 2, we dive into how he recommends structuring a sci-fi screenplay and overlooked budget considerations he thinks sci-fi screenwriters should be aware of, and gives some nuggets of wisdom about where to find new ideas for sci-fi stories.
The Sci-Fi Story Type: Supernatural
When it comes to structure and plotting, Chris works with ten major story types along with his mini-movie method. He defines sci-fi as a “supernatural” story type, which means that the story “defies the natural laws of physics and science as we now understand them.”
While this definition includes fantasy, magical and occult stories as well as science fiction, the distinction he makes for sci-fi is that the supernatural aspect of the story has a scientific explanation in the sci-fi genre, whereas the supernatural might be explained by mystical, magical, or spiritual explanations in other supernatural stories.
For example, he differentiates between the magic-based time travel in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and the science-explained time travel in Back To The Future or Terminator.
However, since we don’t have time travel now, scientifically or otherwise, we defy the natural laws of physics and science with that concept, and therefore have a supernatural story type.
Don’ts of Sci-Fi Screenwriting
In sci-fi screenwriting, Chris says that the biggest mistakes he sees writers making are not knowing what their rules are, not sticking to their rules once they’ve laid them out, and changing too many aspects of the natural laws of physics and science at once.
Don’t take too broad an interpretation of the rules. Sometimes writers say, “There are no rules” in sci-fi, when in fact, as Chris says, with sci-fi “the rules become even more important than with any other movie.” This is because clearly establishing the rules for the viewer is part of what helps them become engaged with the world you're creating. Change too many rules, and they can't suspend their disbelief or the story becomes muddled.
Don’t change your rules on the fly or break your own rules. Not sticking with the rules you’ve set out can leave an audience feeling betrayed, he adds.
Don’t change more than one natural law. “Know what your rules are and stick to one change,” Chris says. Just pose one "What if?" In other words, don’t have a movie with “flying cars AND time travel AND psychic abilities AND aliens. Pick one change, go with it, and examine just the repercussions of that idea.” Because if everything is so very different than our own world, then we’re really writing fantasy, not sci-fi. (For instance, Star Wars has -- albeit successfully -- has crossed the bridge into space fantasy rather than “true” sci-fi.)
Do’s of Sci-Fi Screenwriting
Use the single change you make as a metaphor. Show us “something that could actually happen to a person in the world with the rules as we understand them now.” Give us an understanding of our current world using this scientific change as a metaphor.
Introduce the rules at the outset of the film. Bring us into the world, show us the way things are different in the story world and how the rules are different. For instance, Independence Day opens with a shadow passing over the moon. We instantly know we're not in the ordinary world as we know it. Contact opens with radio signals and shows us how they travel away from the Earth.
Go deeper and deeper into the big idea of the story. Stick to that one "What if?" or change and play out the unexpected consequences of it. Contact poses the question, "What if there's someone out there, and they picked up our radio signals out in space?" and examines it further throughout the film.
The Structure of the Big Idea
As we talked, we dove more deeply into his tip about just changing one thing and how that shows up throughout a story. When I mention being distracted by all the technology in the remake of Total Recall (2012), like the flying cars and subcutaneous cell phones, he describes in counterpoint how “the original version of Total Recall (1990) with Arnold Schwarzenegger goes deeper and deeper into its central rule which is, ‘Are our memories real?’"
He continues, “The movie starts out with a rule that says, ‘You can have a memory implant of something going to Mars that we can implant into your mind.’ By the end of the first act, the question is being posed, “What if all your memories, including your memory of your own identity and who you claim to be, are false or have been implanted as well?’ That’s an expansion on the first idea. It doesn’t get off into, ‘And by the way, we have cars that can fly.’
“At the midpoint, that question is raised as well, where they say, ‘You’re actually still back at Recall having this memory implant and you’re freaking out.’
“The movie ends with the main character Douglas Quaid (Schwarzenegger) turning the camera and saying, ‘But how do I know it’s really true?’ So it ends by asking the question again, ‘How do we know any of what we saw in the movie happened, maybe it’s all the memory implant he had at the end of the first sequence?’
“Then we can draw a line connecting all of those major plot points as expansions on the original question, ‘What if we could implant memories in your head?’ On that same ‘What if?’
“It’s not like the original version doesn’t go off into other ideas and there isn’t other technology, but it’s set dressing, and the story never becomes about it. And that would be the mistake, going off on a tangent like that and saying, ‘and now the story is about flying cars or something else."
He caps this with, “I’m perfectly willing to see a movie about the first flying car or a remake of Cannonball Run but with cars that can fly, because those movies are about cars. But I wouldn’t want that movie to be clouded up with memory implants or anything else. I would want that story to stay on its central idea and dig deeper into that idea, rather than not being able to get deep enough into the idea that is central to the story. That’s a classic mistake made everywhere in every genre, but more easily perceived in sci-fi.”
Next week, stay tuned for Part 2, where Chris and I delve more deeply into the classic structure for a “supernatural” sci-fi story... and more.
About Chris Soth
Chris Soth is a writer, director, and producer who has authored over 28 screenplays and is a frequent speaker on the topics of story structure and independent filmmaking, teaching screenwriters around the world how to write great screenplays and pitch them for success. Chris is the writer of Firestorm, released by 20th Century Fox, and the independent hit Outrage: Born In Terror. He has taught at USC and UCLA, and has guided screenwriters from concept to FADE OUT using the “Mini-Movie Method” through his mentorship program. He is the author of the ebook “Million-Dollar Screenwriting: The Mini-Movie Method.”
My Sci-Fi Circuit article on ScriptMag originally published on June 14, 2013.
Does sci-fi serve a purpose beyond that of entertainment or escapism? Why do we write, read, and love sci-fi?
Arthur Clarke (2001: A Space Odyssey) once said,
"There's no real objection to escapism, in the right places... We all want to escape occasionally. But science fiction is often very far from escapism, in fact you might say that science fiction is escape into reality... It's a fiction which does concern itself with real issues: the origin of man; our future. In fact I can't think of any form of literature which is more concerned with real issues, reality."
Here are some thoughts on the important role sci-fi plays in our culture:
1. Sci-fi makes us think, wonder, and ask what if and why.
I recently watched the movie Contact with my 5-year-old son. The next day I was over the moon with delight at the myriad of questions he asked me. "Why didn't we see the aliens? Are they coming back? Is there going to be another movie where we get to see them? Why didn't anyone believe her except the people outside that big room?" I'm sure when he's older he'll have even more questions to ask about it, like, "Is that what it could really be like, to make first contact? Is it possible that other races are capable of such travel?"
Carl Sagan wrote the book Contact in an attempt to answer such questions, and in doing so, to my mind, provoked even more such questions in asking of them. And isn't that a beautiful thing?
2. Sci-fi allows us to ask hard questions about gender and racial equality and how we treat each other.
Gene Roddenberry, the creator of Star Trek said, "For me science fiction is a way of thinking, a way of logic that bypasses a lot of nonsense. It allows people to look directly at important subjects."
The beauty of sci-fi is that it allows us to stand outside the experience of our own culture and look back to face otherwise emotionally-charged and complex questions in a more neutral manner. When we can be separate enough -- by looking at how we might fictionally treat an alien race, for instance -- we see things with new eyes. District 9 is a powerful example of not only of what might happen if an alien race arrived that was in need of help (another "what if"), but also of our own bad treatment of other people we don't understand or relate to, just as we've done countless times in our own history. District 9 itself is a chilling examination of apartheid and oppression in South Africa.
Similarly, there are countless Star Trek episodes that ask moral questions, including issues of equality, sexism, and racism. The original Star Trek was groundbreaking in terms of women and people of non-white ethnicities playing valuable roles; it had a life-changing impact for me to see that as a young girl. And while we can reasonably discuss the many flaws of Star Trek then and now in this regard, I think we can agree that it has done much to change the landscape of expectations about gendered and racial roles.
3. Sci-fi looks ahead to the future and asks, is this where we want to end up?
So many dystopian visions are put forth in science fiction. And why? Because sci-fi writers are futurists; we look ahead to see where we are going if we continue along our current trajectory. And let's face it, it ain't pretty, folks. Sometimes I think sci-fi writers are our best hope for waking people up to the travesties we're wreaking on our own planet. The Day After Tomorrow, anyone?
Along these lines, there's a terrific book called The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi that looks at the possible future of agricultural disaster, the end of the oil age, bio-engineered viruses, and posits major social struggles over seed banks and energy sources. I Am Legend looks at a future where an attempt to save humankind from cancer results in its downfall.
As Isaac Asimov (I, Robot, Nightfall) said, “Individual science fiction stories may seem as trivial as ever to the blinder critics and philosophers of today, but the core of science fiction -- its essence -- has become crucial to our salvation, if we are to be saved at all.”
4. Sci-fi is a powerful place to dream up and imagine new technology.
Didn't you want a hand-held communicator back in the days of early Star Trek? Flip phones were like a dream come true when they came onto the market. Hand-held computers and tricorders? I think of them whenever I hold my iPad in my hands. Self-propelled cars won't be too far off -- Google already has a prototype. So many technologies have been devised on the pages and screens of sci-fi -- inspiring scientists and inventors to "make it so." I've always been fond of Arthur C. Clarke's third law, "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." I love the idea that the things we think are so preposterous now, may well be possible in the not too distant future, simply because we've dreamed of it now.
So keep dreaming.
And remember the wisdom of Ray Bradbury (Farenheit 451) who said,
“Science fiction is the most important literature in the history of the world, because it's the history of ideas, the history of our civilization birthing itself. ...Science fiction is central to everything we've ever done, and people who make fun of science fiction writers don't know what they're talking about."
What would you add to this list? I'd love to hear from you in the comments.
My Sci-Fi Circuit article on ScriptMag originally published on May 10, 2013.
As a sci-fi screenwriter, I'm fascinated with understanding what the current market is looking for in terms of science fiction spec scripts. This question is usually on my mind in some form or another:
When it comes to breaking into the spec market as a sci-fi screenwriter, what does it take?
To begin to answer this question, I reached out to Shane Joseph Willis, a Australian screenwriter writer and director whose sci-fi action/thriller script Anonymity recently attracted a lot of attention. It all started with his submission of his script to the Tracking Board's coverage service, which promptly earned him a position on their "Recommends" page due to the quality of his writing and his high concept. The listing of his script in turn generated a number of script requests, which Shane was then able to leverage into landing representation with a Hollywood manager -- all the way from Australia.
I suspected the process might have also given him insight into breaking in to the sci-fi spec market, so I interviewed Shane to get his take on what he's learned from his recent success.
Here's what Shane had to say:
Shane, would you first tell us about Anonymity? What inspired you to write it?
Anonymity deals with the idea of personal data and the potential for the great abuse of our information at the hands of those who control it. It takes place "20 minutes into the future" and asks; at what cost do we give away our personal information? It deals with identity, memory, and the idea that our privacy is constantly being eroded; more and more about us is becoming stored online and in databases. Whoever has access to that information has power over us. The story takes that to an extreme.
The inspiration really came from a vision I had of the main character. I wanted to create a chameleon, someone who was constantly changing identities, so much so that he has forgotten who he originally is. He doesn’t fit in with the world; he’s out of step from his surroundings. A classic cyberpunk character. The story seemed like the perfect situation for a character like that to be in. I definitely did a lot of ‘what if-ing’, in generating this concept.
Tell us a little bit about yourself and your writing too, including your relationship with sci-fi. Is it a passion for you? An exploration with this particular script? And how many sci-fi scripts have you written besides this one?
I’m based in Melbourne, Australia, so landing representation in Hollywood was a huge coup for me. In addition to other writing, I've written and directed two shorts, Monarch and Run to the Horizon.Anonymityis my second sci-fi feature script.
I’ve been exposed to sci-fi since before I can remember, it impacted on my psyche from a very young age; put a hook in me. It’s definitely a passion, but it’s more than that, it’s a way through which I look at the world. Writing sci-fi gives you an opportunity to say and do things you normally couldn’t do in a story, in terms of metaphors and analogies. There’s always so much more going on under the surface. If you look at all great science fiction films, they transcend the genre. Alien is a gothic horror story; Blade Runner is a noir detective story. Anonymity tries to achieve that.
What happened when you submitted the script to the Tracking Board coverage service? You've had a great response, right? What was that like for you?
The Tracking Board offers a great coverage service, which I submitted the script to. I got an email back with the coverage attached congratulating me and offering to showcase the script on their "Recommends" page. Naturally I jumped at the chance. I went from sending out dozens and dozens of query letters to managers, agents and producers, to having them contact me to read the script. I can tell you it was a nice reversal. After speaking to several managers, Sidney Sherman at Rosa Entertainment was definitely the best fit for the direction I want to go in my career. He’s a huge sci-fi fan too, and was a fan of my work.
About how long did it take you to complete this project, from inception to submission to the Tracking Board? How many revisions did you go through?
From inception to submission it took about 6-7 months of work. There were lots of revisions during that time, more than I care to remember. Then there was also a one month period from when I got coverage back to when they placed it on their website. I used that time to polish it up based on their notes.
What in particular do you think was so appealing about this project?
From what I was told from the managers and producers who contacted me, the write-up that the Tracking Board posted on their website definitely generated the initial buzz, the story premise was something that cemented the interest. I was told that an elevated genre piece that could be done on a budget is what is driving the market in terms of original sci-fi projects right now.
Has anyone made any guesstimates about the budget for the project?
Regarding the budget, it can be hard to tell at this early stage. It depends on a number of factors like actors and other talent that gets attached to it. It can be compared to a film like Looper, which is a smart sci-fi film made for a price -- the kind Hollywood wants right now. Looper was made for $30 million, and we expect this project will come in at that point or lower, again depending on the factors I mentioned. The budget won't be more than that because the script is quite contained, which means there are no major special effects or CGI sequences, the number of characters is limited, and the setting is quite contemporary, so it doesn't require large scale sets. The tone of the script could almost be compared to Memento in that it has a noirish feel to it and inasmuch as that film was quite contained too.
What have you learned about the industry and what the market is looking for in terms of sci-fi, based on the response you've received?
I think sci-fi will always resonate with the marketplace. Again, the elevated concept is a strong selling point. Make sure that the script is a strong as it can possibly be before sending it out. Sometimes as writers we need to put on a producers hat, and ask ourselves the questions a producer would ask… like, how am I going to sell this script? Essentially everyone in the business is looking for the same thing; a marketable project. It’s our job as screenwriters to bring it to them.
What have you learned that will inform your next project, sci-fi or otherwise?
The next one is a sci-fi project! That script was previously a finalist in the PAGE Awards and I am currently rewriting it. I’ve learned that there is no limit to elevating the story. Knowing what makes a script marketable is important to any writer trying to break in -- understanding what sells and being willing to embrace the business side of screenwriting while still maintaining the integrity of your vision. Sometimes it’s a fine balance.
What recommendations do you have for other writers looking to get traction in the market with sci-fi projects?
Be aware of what’s trending in the marketplace but don’t be bound by those trends. Everyone’s looking for the next big thing, so don’t try and emulate what someone else has done previously. Let your own voice be heard.
What were your early sci-fi influences? What are your favorites now? What have you learned from them?
Star Wars was my first love. I think we can all relate to that. I remember bugging my dad to rent me a copy of Terminator 2 on VHS when I was a kid… I was too young to see it in the theater. He finally caved on that one. Mad Max and The Road Warrior were huge early influences as well as anything cyberpunk like William Gibson and Phillip Dick, but also a lot of lesser known sci-fi movies like Stalker or Alphaville or World On A Wire. I draw influences from lots of different sources... too many to list! I’ve learned many things, but one thing in particular that I’ve taken away is that an audience or reader needs someone they can relate to, like an everyman character to take us through the journey, particularly when the world we’re exploring is mythical or fantastical. I think that’s the key to great sci fi.
What are your next steps with this project?
The script will be going on the market soon. Fingers crossed it will resonate with buyers.
Thank you, Shane! We wish you the best of luck and much success with Anonymity.
If you'd like to follow Shane's journey with Anonymity and his progress, you can connect with him on Twitter.
My Sci-Fi Circuit article on ScriptMag originally published on April 12, 2013.
What does it take to make a sci-fi world real?
As a science fiction fan, I love to be transported into new and fantastical worlds. As a sci-fi screenwriter, I'm fascinated by understanding what it takes to make that happen, and happen well?
It's Not Just A Pretty Gadget
Part of the appeal as fans, I think, is that just like in James Bond movies, we sci-fi geeks love to see new and clever ideas and how they work. It seems to be something of a thing, to have at least one super cool new piece of technology per sci-fi film, like the hand-embedded phones in the re-release of Total Recall(2012).
But clearly a little fancy new technology isn't the only thing it takes to make a futuristic world seem real.
What Else Is It?
The kind of world-building I deeply admire is what I've seen Joss Whedon doing with his sci-fi masterpiece series Firefly and even with The Avengers. The world-building is all part of the background. It makes sense. We get it. When it comes to our attention, it's part of the story but doesn't overwhelm it. Everything serves a purpose. He does a masterful job of showing and not telling.
And that IS an issue with sci-fi.
As Carson Reeves puts it in his excellent book Scriptshadow Secrets, "Science fiction is a memory hog." He goes on to say, "You know that WHIRRRRR noise your laptop makes when Firefox starts sucking up your memory? That's the exact same effect sci-fi has on a screenplay. 20-25% of your screenplay will be dedicated to exposition when you write sci-fi. This is due to all the rules and backstory and futuristic shit that needs to be explained... So make sure if you're tackling this genre, you're willing to put in the extra effort to minimize and hide all that exposition..."
So how do we build convincing and beautiful worlds while reining in the exposition?
First let's start with the science, context, and backstory. To answer this question, I dragged out my early version of How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasyby Orson Scott Card (additional version*) for a look at the ingredients that go into building a world.
Setting the Rules
Card lists first coming up with the "rules" for space travel, time travel, and magic.
For instance, pretty much at the outset of Star Wars and Star Trek we see that lightspeed and warp speed work in these universes. Even though the technology for traveling faster than the speed of light is currently seen as highly unlikely if not impossible in the scientific world (classified by Michio Kaku in Physics of the Impossible as a "class II impossibility", meaning that it "sits on the very edge of our current understanding of the physical world"), we take it as a given that we can whip across the universe at enormous speeds without any time dilation effect.
In other universes, however, like those depicted in Aliens and Prometheus, cryo travel is required to traverse any kind of long distance, the impact of which is clearly seen when Ripley in Aliens asks, "How long was I out there?" and the answer, "Fifty-seven years," produces a real shock for her character.
Similarly we must convey the rules of time travel -- and as the writers of these tales, we get to decide on the rules.
For instance, think of the various ways time travel plays out in movies like The Butterfly Effect, the Back To The Future trilogy, and Déjà Vu. In each of these, we quickly learn the time travel rules for the particular story, such as, do people travel back through time into their own minds? Can they observe their earlier selves from the outside? Affect the past and alter the future? Or does time remain elastic and resilient, regardless of the changes we might try to make?
And even though we usually think of "magic" relative to fantasy stories, many of the sci-fi worlds we see encompass some kind of magic, whether with technology or something like the Force in Star Wars.
Regardless of whether it's magic or science, from the outset, we have to know the rules.
Detailing the Past
We also need to understanding the past, including for example how a particular alien race has evolved to appear the way it has, and how it communicates -- at least as the writers of the script. I love how Card describes understanding the backstory for a particular town with a mob led by a demogogic preacher and deeply understanding the kind of people that follow him. He says, "Now, maybe you won't even use an incident like that in the story. But you know it, and because it's in there in the history of that town, the people in that mob are no longer strangers to you, no longer puppets to make go through the actions you want them to perform. They've come alive, they have souls -- and your story will be richer and more truthful because of it." (Emphasis added.)
In my own work and reading on this subject, even while I am at times tempted to throw up my hands and say, "It doesn't matter, I don't care about that!" I find that my work deepens the more care I put into thinking about the world and story behind what we're seeing.
Understanding Language
Joss Whedon's brilliance shines when it comes to language, which is the next of Card's world building items. Ever the erudite communicator, not only has Whedon thought through a likely political and cultural evolution for the future of the human race in Firefly, he has extrapolated slang words like "ruttin'" and "gorram" along with the notion that characters will swear in Chinese. Along with subtle Asian cues in clothing, lettering, and set design, we quickly grok that China's culture has become an integral part of these new worlds.
There's nothing like a good delivery of language, whether we're talking Aliens or Much Ado About Nothing to get us well-immersed in the tone and spirit of a particular world.
Designing Scenery
According to Card, designing the scenery "... is the part that most people think of when they talk about world creation: coming up with a star system and a planet and an alien landscape."
Carolyn See writes convincingly about the importance of "geography, time, and space" in her Making A Literary Life. Although I've been tempted to ignore such specifics along these lines at times since I'm writing "in the future," I can see the validity of her point that we can become boring when we try for "universal" by neglecting the details.
I'm again reminded of the beauty of the ship "Serenity" in Firefly, and the careful thought that went into creating it, down to the flowers painted on the dining area walls. If we're paying attention, we surmise they were added by one of the characters on the ship.
But here's a question I wonder about: How much of this happens on the set, and how much happens in the writing stage?
As I contemplated that question, I remembered hearing Jane Espenson talk about writing the episode "Shindig" for Firefly. She described coming up with the idea for transportable door knobs that function as futuristic hotel room keys. And guess what? It's in the script. So the writer does and can play a role at this level too.
And What About Exposition?
Carson Reeves suggests that most sci-fi projects need some kind of backstory introduction to help avoid overly expository dialogue. He points out the well-known use of the title card in the Star Wars franchise, but also references voice-overs in Avatar (and the video journaling did an admirable job there too, in my opinion), and the documentary-style footage in District 9.
I love this point from Michael A. Banks from his chapter, "Science Fiction: Hard Science and Hard Conflict" from How To Write Tales of Horror, Fantasy, & Science Fiction (from Writer's Digest) about the degree of attention one must give to the science behind the fiction: "More detail is necessary, because you are frequently showing the reader things that don't exist. You'll have to depend on intuition to tell you just how far you can go without being a bore. ... If the science is to be part of the conflict, you'll have to take it quite a bit further. Because conflict is so closely tied to characterization, motivation, and the overall success of plot, you will have to give the science behind a conflict as much attention as you would any of the other basic story elements."
He also says, "The ground rules are simple: Don't tell the reader everything you know, and don't dump the information you do use on the reader all at once. ... Use only detail that adds necessary color, moves the plot, or helps the reader understand events, characters, or background.
I know that as I'm writing, I'm constantly asking myself, how can I convey this more concisely? How can I show it? How can we feel it? Can I make it tighter or clearer? If it means my reader "gets" my story more clearly, it'll be worth the effort.
Lest We Forget
Last, here's a point I think is worth remembering, again from Orson Scott Card, about the value and importance of sci-fi in our own world today: "Indeed, one of the greatest values of speculative fiction is that creating a strange imaginary world is often the best way to help readers see the real world through fresh eyes and notice things that would otherwise remain unnoticed."
* All book links herein are affiliate links for Bookshop, which means I earn a small referral fee if you purchase from them, and which helps me keep my writing ship afloat. Thank you!
My inaugural "Sci-Fi Circuit" article on ScriptMag, originally published March 15, 2013.
I was indoctrinated into the world of sci-fi by my father at the tender age of nine, when he handed me my first sci-fi book, The City and the Stars by Arthur C. Clarke. Right around the same time, I saw Star Wars.
I was hooked. Together, they changed my life.
No longer was my world limited to the known and the knowable.
It expanded into the realm of possibility, discovery, and exploration. The idea that there might be so much more than I could see and know was endlessly exciting.
Star Trek reruns, the original Battlestar Galactica series, and a steady stream of sci-fi novels were my salvation — the barest of bare minimums to tide me over until The Empire Strikes Back was released. George Lucas became like a god to me, delivering tales to satisfy this unending thirst for more.
I gobbled up sci-fi as fast as I could get my hands on it.
I lived inside Anne McCaffrey’s dragon books, read and re-read thrice over Marion Zimmer Bradley’s hybrid world of Darkover where magic and technology were interwoven, and fell in love again and again with the works of Orson Scott Card (his outstanding book Ender’s Game will be released as a motion picture in December 2013).
At some point, my hunger became a desire to create my own sci-fi. I got my hands on a copy of How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasyby Orson Scott Card (additional version*), and I still consider it to be a seminal work on the subject.
His comment about sci-fi and fantasy precisely encapsulates my abiding love for both genres: “... science fiction and fantasy are the genres in which stories can hew closest to the archetypes and myths that readers in all time and places have hungered for.”
Sci-fi and Fantasy: Both Are "Speculative Fiction"
Yes!
What’s always stayed present in my mind (even years later) is Card's distinction between sci-fi and fantasy.
Because let’s face it, they are often lumped together -- even in the title of his book!
And yet to me -- to most of us paying attention, to be sure -- they are quite different.
Card does a useful job of explaining WHY they're often put together. Despite the fact that apparently in the publishing world, sci-fi and fantasy often function as separate animals, with different trade magazines, publishing departments, and labels, in the bookstore realms, they’re put together, because, as Card says, sci-fi and fantasy “have a largely author-driven market.” A reader wants to find all the books by a certain author together, not scattered pell-mell throughout the store.
Card explains this author-driven aspect behind this adroitly, saying, “Most of us who write speculative fiction turn with equal ease from fantasy to science fiction and back again.”
Of course we do.
On the other hand, on the movie shelves we see both sci-fi and fantasy put together, sometimes with weird results. The other day I was on Hulu.com and noticed they’d categorized “Once Upon a Time” as science fiction, something I’d never consider to be the case.
But I still like Card’s definition of them together as “speculative fiction.” He describes them this way because they both tend to be stories “that take place in worlds that never existed or are not yet known.”
He also says, “The intrinsic difference between speculative and real-world fiction is that speculative fiction must take place in an unknowable world. At some point, every science fiction and fantasy story must challenge the reader’s experience and learning.”
But what’s the difference between sci-fi and fantasy?
Does it matter?
It matters when it comes to audience. In both genres, our audience has be educated about the world we've created and the rules the world operates within. We have to tell them which one we're in. And fast.
Sometimes it's obvious. Sometimes less so.
Time travel machines?
Flying cars?
Spaceships?
Sci-fi.
Magic spells?
Flying carpets?
Enchanted princesses?
Fantasy.
Magic spells that cause time travel? Fantasy.
Dragons that are the result of careful genetic manipulation and crossbreeding? Sci-fi.
Dragons who speak and foretell the future? Fantasy.
Or as Carson Reeves, author of ScriptShadow Secrets (whom I hope to interview in a future column) says, "I define science fiction as any fictional story with space, futuristic, or time-traveling elements. I like to keep it simple! Fantasy on its own is definitely not sci-fi. You wouldn't categorize Lord Of The Rings as sci-fi. However, there are science fiction movies that incorporate both elements, like Star Wars."
Yes, so true.
Regardless of the genre, we have to 1) establish the facts early on with our world-building, and 2) clue the audience into whether it's driven by science or magic. Luckily -- and perhaps in a slightly clichéd manner -- we can often do this quickly with the landscape. If we're seeing metal and spaceships, chances are it's sci-fi. If we're in the natural landscape or riding horses into courtyards, it's most likely fantasy.
The Bottom Line
Are we switching a lever or waving a wand?
Perhaps the most important distinction here is that sci-fi should theoretically require less explanation than fantasy, because as Card says, “If the story is set in a universe that follows the same rules as ours, it’s science fiction. If it’s set in a universe that doesn’t follow our rules, it’s fantasy.”
More rules?
More explanation.
Is There a Cross-Over Point?
What about the pseudo-science that masquerades as fact in so many of the sci-fi features we see today?
I've seen more than few complaints about the careless science of sci-fi films disrupting the reality, including a discussion on the science of Prometheus that pointed out several logic flaws (e.g. the star formation that pointed out the location of the alien planet would have shifted significantly over the many thousands of years since the maps were left in the caves on Earth).
Here's my take:
Yes, geek cred is important. We need to make sense, and if we're truly following the known laws of the universe, then we need to stick to them.
It's our job as sci-fi writers, just like in any story, to make sure that we do the research and weave the threads together to make sure the internal logic holds. We need to ensure that our audience -- including the science geeks who love this work -- can reasonably suspend their disbelief.
And, if we're stepping outside the parameters of what's known so far (because let's face it, even scientists are still sorting out whether or not things like time travel are truly impossible), we have a responsibility just like we would in any story, to carefully and credibly establish the rules of our world.
Where Do We Go From Here?
As a sci-fi screenwriter, I'm interested in a number of questions, particularly about the marketability of spec sci-fi projects from unknown screenwriters and writing issues inherent to the genre. Stay tuned for more about genre, sub-genre, breaking in, adaptation, novelization, interviews of sci-fi screenwriters and industry experts, and more.
* All book links herein are affiliate links for Bookshop, which means I earn a small referral fee if you purchase from them, and which helps me keep my writing ship afloat. Thank you!
