Closings

While working on the script for Delta Phi, I spent a lot of my time trying to condense the story. I didn’t want to take on a feature length film at the outset. I’d rather take a minimalist approach in pre-production and give the project room to expand in production than the other way around. 

When all was said and done with the script, I anticipated a forty five minute piece that could perhaps provide an opening for a longer series. I’m still of the firm belief that Delta Phi sets up enough context for a series of just about anything, but the length itself seems to be changing. It appears that I have a feature length film on my hands! That gets me pretty excited, of course, but the goal with a story is to always let it be “the length it needs to be,” as they say. I want my audience to leave with a sense of renewal, not exhaustion. 

This got me thinking about how to determine the appropriate length of a story. I know that the arc has something to do with it, but there are narratives that have no arcs at all. (That is, they don’t express a change in the constituents). And anyway, the arc is more about the shape and form of a story than it’s length. I notice that stories with a bigger scope tend to also be pretty long (scope is the size of time and space in the world of the story itself), but that’s not to say that you can’t, for example, write 100,000 words about a single day in history. I’m as guilty as any writer of making some pieces too long. Maybe a message in it is delivered too many times, or it has some redundant moments. When it comes to fiction, though, I don’t think a piece is finished when the message is delivered. It’s finished when the constituents have said everything they need to say. Sometimes they need to say it twice. Whatever makes them feel better.

I don’t know why, but that’s what does it for me. When the character feels better, then I know my job is done. When he can shut his eyes in stillness, or when the camera can shut its eye on him, whichever. No need to drag it along past that point. When a character finds their peace, let them be. And if you revisit them, don’t waste time reopening old wounds when you can help them solve new ones. It amazes me how many characters are pulled through one abuse after another and we never get to hear the story of how they recover. That is, after all, it’s own conflict. I still have so much to learn about endings, but I know that characters are a reflection of our own selves and that’s something that I hope more storytellers can start to take seriously. 

Peace,

Ayah

#DeltaPhiFilm

Start in the Middle

When it comes to editing, start in the middle of your story.

I’m not talking about in media res. It has nothing to do with the order of the events in your story. I’m talking about starting in the middle of the structure. Start in the middle of the structure itself. The middle chapter, the middle scene, the middle episode, whatever. 

Our egos get attached the beginning and ending of a piece. Openings and closings of a film or book feel so important that you may not have the clearest picture of how much time it should take up, or even how much time you should spend editing it. Started with editing a chapter in the middle of your book or a scene in the middle of your video is more neutral. It’s a task that will give you a clear estimate for how long it takes to edit a chapter (or whatever building block you’re using). Even more importantly, it gives you a healthier idea of how long you should be spending on a given chapter in your editing process. 

It’s also worth noting here that the center of your narrative is the event that is often most likely to be able to stand on its own. The middle of a story (the apex) makes a great sample of your work for promotional and distribution purposes, and editing it first will help you test out how well it sustains itself out of context. 

I would love your help to get more blogging ideas. Do you have some questions about metafiction, filmmaking or writing? Leave them in the comments :)

Peace,

Ayah

#DeltaPhiFilm

Quantity Begets Quality

When it comes to learning your craft, you’ll run into a lot of competing opinions about quantity and quality. They seem to fall into one of three categories. 

One is that you learn a skill by means of quantity, and then, after reaching some pre-existing standard of proficiency, you can move on to caring about quality. 

The other two are simple: quality first or quantity first. 

People in the quantity camp often argue that making more work gets your name out there. Exposure, they might say, is the only thing holding you back from success. Who knows, maybe they’re right. But exposure doesn’t get you excellence. That’s not to say that I’m in the quality camp, either. 

Today’s message is simple: people overlook that quantity and quality are not separate practices, nor do they belong to different stages of the learning process. Quantity begets quality. When you finish a piece; or rather, when you are finished with it, move on. Make the next thing. Make a lot of things, and every once in awhile you’ll get something great. 

I don't know whether I'll be able to consider Delta Phi one of my greatest works when all is said and done. But it is pushing me to generate a lot of writing, a lot of images, and a lot of emotional design. 

Peace,

Ayah

#DeltaPhiFilm