NaNoWriMo - The Handyman Day 30

Potter survived with a little
mad look in 'is eyes

It is done. November is over. In the last 30 days my hair has grown unreasonably long, as did the hair on my face - at unreasonably strange angles too. Some of the summer lustre has disappeared from my skin - now paler. And I do believe there might be a bag or two more under my eyes. Maybe that's just from the count of my years and not just 30 days in November.

NaNoWriMo has at times felt a little like trying to run on ice. It has been impossibly, dangerously fast (god it feels good writing adverbs and adjectives) and at others, like I was getting nowhere.

Above all I entered the month hoping to learn a little more about the kind of writing process that works for me. As ever these things often end up revealing the obvious. I discovered writing isn't about hitting a daily count or monthly targets. It is about giving yourself time to write every day, even if that time is then spent researching the obscure and arcane. It is about finding some way of progressing the story each day even if it's in building the detail of the world and not the word for word. I learned writing is about being imaginatively fearless, believing in what it takes for you as an individual to write the best story and not worrying about others or hitting those targets. I learned I can write upwards of 2k in a day with a full section of the story plotted in my head. That it sometimes takes me two or three days of no words and lots of pondering to get to that point. It is more efficient for me to take these days of no words rather than writing 6k of words because I need something on the page to hit a target, only to later find the story doesn't need those words. Or worse being blind enough to justify keeping them simply because I wrote them.

It feels like I have tried everything this last year in learning the best method for my writing, with the irony being that I've come full circle to the process I started with while writing Chasing Innocence. I do know that the initial translation of mental imagery to the page is the part I struggle the hardest with.

For the baying millions waiting to hear my final count for NaNoWriMo of November 2013 of the common era - it is 23,433 - the most words I've ever been aware of writing in a single calendar month.

I will be continuing with The Handyman now to completion and will be posting progress through this blog, if only revealing the word count infrequently.

< NaNoWriMo - The Handyman Day 27 - The Handyman Day ?? >

NaNoWriMo - The Handyman Day 27

Fifteen beats of the sheet

Before I started writing the actual story of The Handyman, I spent about a month mapping out the fifteen or so key markers I'd need to hit during the story. This process also maps the core plot complexities. Not what happens but why it happens, the character motivations and backstories. The beat sheet for The Handyman totalled some 25k of words before a single word of fiction narrative was written.

In creating the beat sheet for the Handyman I didn't want a standard revenge structure where Daniel went straight out to kill Angela's murderers. Earlier this year I read Helen Zahavi's brilliant 'Dirty Weekend' and loved how she transitioned her heroine from timid victim to effective vigilante. Daniel has never been timid but his fear of losing the memory of his wife keeps revenge in check. When he sees video footage of Angela's murder, he hears one of the killers laugh. The seed for his journey is sown.

The story then to the mid-point is all about him tracking down the murderers. In my beat sheet they are described as The Driver, The Mercenary and The Psychopath. It is Daniel's interactions with the Driver that will lead him to the Mercenary and indirectly to the Psychopath. I intended for the Driver to be part of the murder squad because he has been radicalised. He isn't the guy who laughs or pulls the trigger. Just the driver. For all his hard believing the deaths have an effect.

That's pretty much what I laid out in October. Two days ago I reached the point in writing the Handyman, where Daniel tracks down the Driver, and therefore the moment life has to be breathed into the Driver.

It is very important to me that each of the Driver, Mercenary and Psychopath are living and breathing characters in their own right. Their actions are undertaken with the same kind of convictions and justifications Daniel uses for his goals. So how do you create a living and breathing radicalised twenty-eight year old male with two children and a wife?

The answer is of course - not easily. I definitely didn't want to make him the 2D bad guy terrorist. I wanted to create someone we understand and therefore empathise with as Daniel relentlessly closes in. A similar understanding of character to Simon the child kidnapper in Chasing Innocence.

The last two days then have been about researching the different facets of radicalisation, which is a well documented trait in human societies. Radicals have existed in every culture, religion and ideology through time. They are a result of an individuals belief that the institutions and structures defining law and society are de-legitimatised and need to be replaced. There are usually multiple facets, society, cultural and often family, that have to fail in the person's eyes. Even then most people do not possess the capability to radicalise and then only a small percentage that do, would actually turn to violence.

My driver's first name is Aslan. He has grown up in a largely orthodox family. A strict father who believes the old ways are best, who also views the ruling structures of society to be de-legitimised but change must be achieved politically. Aslan had an older sister he was very close to, who was beaten and died as a consequence while at University - never solved and thought to be racially motivated. The family discovered she was leading two lives, a western life at University and a compliant orthodox life in-front of the family. She had a secret western boyfriend who Aslan believes murdered her. It is Aslan's belief the structures of society covered up the murder. That she didn't matter. Society failed her and so did his father, who's pedantic attempts to introduce orthodoxy politically are as flawed as the ruling society itself. He is frustrated by his communities inward focus at observing doctrine while not doing more to force change in a society that demonises his culture. Azlan believes the deaths of Angela and Molly are part of the vital process for deconstructing the existing infrastructure. Except he is also haunted by the laugh in the car as Angela was killed.

That's the premise. Now I have to put Daniel and Aslan in the same space on the page and see what happens.

< The Handyman Day 23 - The Handyman Day 30 >

NaNoWriMo - The Handyman - Day 23

Now what the hell am I going to write this blog post about? It is day 23 of NaNoWriMo by 93 minutes. I'm in Birmingham sat in a friend's study. I've had about three Desperado's too many and I have just watched Sucker Punch - which was nothing like the movie I thought it would be. In fact I think it was rather excellent, save for the fact it tried to be too clever by holding onto the secret of reality far too long. Which wasn't even the Sucker Punch reveal. Zack Snyder is an incredibly original visionary but he isn't at this stage the genius story teller he aspires to be. Watchman spoiled him. Classics are not so easily conjured.

Anyway, a few days back I was thinking I'd soon hit 20k or at least be close, then when I look at the posts that was nine days ago - aarrggghh.

It is day 23 as previously mentioned. I have just breached 20k. This is disappointing on two levels. First it means my average word count per day has been less than 1000 words through November. The second is I'm so horribly far behind on NaNoWriMo it makes me shudder to think.

This has been a wonderful exercise though. I know writers who have already tipped 50k this month. I find that inconceivable. While I am writing to a carefully plotted structure the line by line for me is entirely from the characters perspective. What are they thinking in the moment to moment? Creating a scene and having the characters play the scene to the benefit of the story is tough work. I write short scenes, in the main. It takes a while for me to reset between scenes. To properly stage them in my mind.

Of course at 20k I have just finished the hardest part of the book - act one - the bit where we introduce characters and give them substance, set-up all the key markers that will play and evolve through the story to it's conclusion.

The hope is I am now playing these established characters in the story. I have so many hopes and aspirations for how this will play out, that trying to hit a word count feels entirely wrong. Sitting down and trying to creatively tell a sizeable chunk of the story each day does feel good. I will have mentioned it before. The key lesson for me has been to make sure I sit down every day and commit to writing for a few hours. No matter what.

Off to bed now with the hope I will have chance to write for an hour or so in the morning without being too anti-sociable. Am off to a Memorabilia Comic-Con type event at the NEC tomorrow afternoon.

With seven days left and the 25th as my next realistic writing day my hope is to hit 30k before the end of the month.

We will see.

< The Handyman Day 19 - The Handyman Day 27 >

NaNoWriMo - The Handyman Day 19

Wave hello

One of the toughest parts of starting a book, is getting the characters on the page. I'll often see them in my mind but finding the words to convey them as real can take some time.

Invariably there is a magical moment during the process, usually about the time we get into the mix of the main story, when the characters make themselves known. They become real and the words to describe them come a lot easier.

It is a moment I seldom see coming. In Chasing Innocence it didn't happen for Sarah until late - when she was fighting Simon. For Mahrie it was her return after burying her husband, and her reaction to the police waiting outside her house.

When the characters do start waving from the page. It is one of the great feelings.

Of course you may read the following excerpt and wonder what the hell I'm going on about. It might be difficult to know without the context of what happens before. This was the moment for me when Daniel Harper started waving. It will now be about honouring his story that drives me to the end.

Daniel does a last check, makes sure the keys are secure in his rucksack, the change of clothes, clips his shoes into the pedals and freewheels onto the road, merges into the traffic. 

The bike is gleaming, oiled, there are no gears. There are no brakes, the bike's momentum is controlled by the continual rotation of the crank - it stops and the bike stops. The handlebars are seven inches across, left hand to the right, designed so he can filter through traffic, between cars, taxis and buses. He’s spent the morning giving it the once over. He wants to see if he’s ready to work. 

At the station he pulls on his cap because he doesn’t want trouble. The train has to pass through Slough. London is the multi-cultural hub of Europe. He’s nervous. Not the fear of physical confrontation but of being reminded of other people and their anger. There’s a telescopic batten taped to the inside of his bicep, just in case. 

The worry is for nothing. He climbs on the train, lifts in his bike and they rattle and roll into Slough where people pour off and on, the doors close. On into Paddington. He doesn’t think anyone paid him any attention. He has been trained to notice these things. 

The underground could take him to Wimbledon but he needs to get back into the flow. This is where his days were spent, couriering envelopes and packages, criss-crossing through the alleys and roads of the ancient city. Tuned into cabbies and bus drivers, pedestrians with a death wish. Upwards of one hundred daily miles on a seat narrower than his wrist. Decent money and flexible. It could be unpleasant, the weather, the nutters, never worse than sitting in an office. 

It’s nine miles to Wimbledon, it takes him forty minutes. He’s an hour early for his appointment. Sits in the park to cool down. Knows the child voices and the mothers aren’t Molly and Angela, has to stop himself hoping. Watches them with his body heavy with loss, a malevolence wants to twist inside. For those who robbed him. A tension he lets flow to the cool autumn. He thinks of Angela and the love she had for life. 

When he’s ready Daniel takes his lock from the rucksack, the sort you’d get for a high-end motorbike. A long chain of thick links encased in a kevlar sheath. He removes the bike wheels, takes them with him. Only the frame is shackled to the bike rack. He changes in the public toilet, the cloying bleach and piss. He sprays deodorant. He knows Wimbledon well, he used to see Doctor Mistry at the Neurological hospital, after he came out of the army. Daniel likes to be respectful. Would never wear his cycling gear to see a Doctor. When he leaves the toilet he’s wearing his wedding suit trousers and a shirt. Polished black shoes. The wheels in one hand in a special carrier, rucksack on his back.

  < NaNoWriMo - The Handyman Day 18 -  NaNoWriMo - The Handyman Day 23 > 

NaNoWriMo - The Handyman Day 18

Keeping the study warm
while Potter feverishly
creates pearls of fiction...

And then there were 18 days of November almost gone. Life has kicked in the last few days and I have not written a single word of fiction since the 14th #gulp

I knew I was going to struggle Fri for the same reasons I mentioned in the last post - I was trying to find an innovative way to introduce the video found footage. Sitting down on Friday I thrashed through the details, working through potential scenarios. I didn't want the found video to just arrive through Daniel's letterbox or be nailed to a wall or something - although I seriously considered these as solutions. I wanted some interesting angle, and how I vexed myself.

1.6k of debating words later, which is how I resolve plot issues, by writing down the debate in my head, I had some great additional ideas for the story but nothing original for the found footage.

Then the weekend kicked in and projects I was working on with other people took precedence. Chasing Innocence is getting a fresh proof and copy edit to try and get the last few rough edges out of the text. I'm starting a business and needed to get business card designs ready for the printers.

Saturday I finally came up with the found footage solution by thinking outside of the problem and looking at which characters could solve it for me. I came up with an excellent idea - hoorah to that. Now It's Monday and business needs took over again. So it's 16:00 and not a NaNoWriMo word has been scribed since Thursday night. I need to get back into the mindset, to get going. 20k of The Handyman beckons. I'm currently at 15,500 words. Wildy behind schedule but the set-up and introductions of act one are almost over. I'm about to move into the fun and games of act two. It'll be easier, words will be plentiful, I keep telling myself.

I'll let you know how it goes.

< NaNoWriMo - The Handyman Day 14 - NaNoWriMo - The Handyman Day 19 >

NaNoWriMo - The Handyman 14

It happens like this just about every day, at least those days I'm supposed to be writing a blog. I'm just about to pack up and go to bed, when it suddenly occurs to me I haven't written the damn NaNoWriMo blog.

I then spend about ten seconds deciding whether to give it a miss or not, the outcome of which will largely be determined by whether I bunked off the night before. In fact last night I didn't give the blog a single thought. So here we are, sitting here at 00:23hrs on the 15th November, trying to be insightful.

Today was one of those writing days, NaNoWriMo or otherwise, when the needs of the character changed the needs of the story. In my extensive plotting of The Handyman, I had cleverly created a moment halfway through act one that would serve as a catalyst for the rest of the book. It was a moment when Daniel looks through the pictures of his dead wife's camera having dreamed of her asking him 'What do you see?' I go through this whole section as he hunts through the pictures as if we are looking through found footage. He sees her life and world through her eyes. One largely unknown to him. It is a lovely moment and frustrating for him because he cannot see anything that might lead to her murder.

I wrote the scene today. I like it a lot and it works real well. This moment pays off later in the story. It immediately leads onto a scene with actual found footage of her murder, taken by the murderers. In looking through the footage he hear's one of them laugh and his revenge gene kicks in. He is now on board for the main story.

It all sounds cool, and reads pretty well in a story outline. The trouble is in writing the two back to back found footage scenes you get found footage overload. The two scenes show different mediums of camera and video, have largely different content but have very similar narratives. They are essentially the same scene played out twice in a row. Readers will disengage.

The solution so far is to move Daniel doing the camera review to a much earlier stage during the setup in the first half of act one. And then think of some imaginative way of revealing the video found footage, which I haven't quite come up with yet.

Hopefully next time we meet in the middle of the night, which should be Saturday(ish) at the latest, I will have. See you there.

<NaNoWriMo - The Handyman 12 - NaNoWriMo - The Handyman 18 > 

NaNoWriMo - The Handyman Day 12

It's amazing how the days get away from you. One minute I'm mostly doing a blog a day, or every other day, the next it suddenly occurs to me I've not done one for three days. Not even thought about it at all.

So it's the twelfth day of November. If I was keeping track of the NaNoWriMo thing I should have 19k of words under my belt. I actually have 12k. Which is so far off the pace it is almost totally unrecoverable in terms of hitting the 50k word count at the end of the month.

The realisation of this month for me has been understanding it's unlikely I'll ever be able to write 50k in thirty days. I can work all day sometimes and have little in actual additional word-count to show for it. Here is an example of why:

Sunday, I spent four hours editing two chapters I'd worked on the day before. You might ask why I was editing and not writing, it is after all NaNoWriMo. The simple answer is everything I write is character centric, if I haven't got their perspective accurate in chapter five, it's not going to feel right in chapter six, seven etc. If I don't take care of the characters viewpoint and world perspective in chapter five, I'll end up increasingly uncertain and go off course. Which will later take a disproportionate amount of time to fix. I might as well get it fixed when I realise it needs fixing and keep subsequent chapters on message and building from a sure platform.

So Sunday, I'm editing these two chapters. One heralds the catalyst for what will be the reveal at the end of the story and therefore needed to say certain things in a certain way. I'd got it written but it was too obvious in leading Daniel to the catalyst. I needed to be roundabout in the reveal and blend the conversation so the reader realises the catalyst a line or two before Daniel does. The other was a conversation between Daniel and another man about their motivations for the upcoming story. The Handyman is a revenge thriller. I'd written the scene but didn't have a valid reason for him being reluctant to embark on the revenge element. I had to make sure he had valid reasons for rejecting the cause but give the reader a clear understanding he will of course eventually get going.

It took a lot of work and I eventually laid it out not as a reluctance to embark on the story but a reluctance to leave the memory of his wife and their life together behind. A very tricky thing to pull off. Four hours of hard work with a total twenty-two words added to the project's overall count.

The next NaNoWriMo word-count update will be Friday 15th, where I should be hitting 24k but will be grateful to be near 20k.

< NaNoWriMo - The Handyman 9 - NaNoWriMo - The Handyman 14 >

NaNoWriMo - The Handyman Day 9

A wise man once said get it right and do it first time. Or something like that.

I doubt that wise man ever tried writing, moreover a work of fiction.

So here goes this writers evolving and guaranteed not to be right first time, daily routine.

I get up, make a cup of tea and read emails, check-up on a few bits and pieces for about twenty minutes.

I'll open up Scrivener, find the section I finished up the previous day or if applicable the bit that feeds what I'm writing next. I'll read the section, fiddle a little and get going. It's a combination that really helps me to get into the headspace.

I start writing two lines below where I left off the day before, even if I'm starting a new chapter, because lets face it, who likes starting writing on a blank page.

When I've built up a few paragraphs or am ready for my second cup of tea, I'll split the new text into a new chapter. I'll keep writing and drink lots more tea.

Sometimes I'll reach a stage like I did today, where I'll realise the conversation I have in chapter fourteen, that takes place in a white house, needs to take place after chapter seven in a hospital.

For something like this I will stop right there and move the chapter and blend it into the required location. References to the white house become the hospital and conversation will reflect the new scenes need. I'll build a fresh chapter fourteen, hopefully paying off this extra work.

This of course is not productive if you're only focused on word count. I have tried lots of different approaches but I cannot continue writing if I realise the structure of the early story doesn't hold together at a high level. I'm not so worried about the line by line perfection of prose.

I have found it is unlikely I'll have more than a thousands words before I'll hit a point that will require lots of thinking, walking about and looking like I've entered a catatonic state. Invariably the background processes will throw out a solution sometime during the day.

At some point I'll sit down and start writing again. This will be a harder session to initiate but it will also be the more productive because everything has been busy brewing through the day. I'll still be in the zone from the earlier session.

I've sometimes written upwards of 3-4k during a day but tend to find the narrative becomes increasingly disjointed or bland and will require a disproportionate period of time editing or even re-writing to make it feel right the next day.

I tend to produce about a thousand words of good prose in a three hour morning session and about the same in a two hour afternoon or evening session. Which means I can churn out about 2k of decent fiction a day. This will by no means be the end product or close to it. It will represent about 70% of completion at a line by line level, as long as I've got my planning correct or don't later think of a better way to progress that section of the story. Or realise it needs to be dropped altogether.

Writing the first draft of the story represents about a quarter of the total work required to eventually make the story anywhere close to entertaining. For me at least.

As an example, here's the very first chapter of The Handyman as it currently stands. This is the first time I've written third person present tense. I have got better at it but this isn't quite there. What I learn about the needs of the characters and story will evolve this chapter during the writing and further in the editing. It will be crafted to give a greater sense of the moment, the desperation and fear and more technical detail on the weapons sounds etc. Then it'll be given to proof readers. Anyway:

It is early afternoon. A sunny day with powder blue skies, wisps of cloud chased by energetic breezes. There is a junction of roads and open grassland, cars parked on the gravel verge. Picnic tables and walkers in small groups. Horses roam free and graze. 

Angela is sat at one of the tables, occasionally brushing loose hair from her eyes as she reads, sometimes looking up at Daniel and Molly, her daughter’s excited yelps and his deeper, joyful shouts. A kite skits over and between the breezes, a yellow trailing tail. She returns to her book, grateful for these happy days and this holiday. 

The breezes carry the sound of a distant motorbike, the pitch of it’s small engine rises and falls as it climbs and descends the low rolling landscape. Molly in her excitement of holding the kite, lets go and it is carried away, the string and the handle bump across the gorse and grass and lift into the air. Daniel sets off after it and Molly shouts encouragement as it bucks and twists higher. Her voice fades as Daniel chases, knowing the mischievous plastic cannot stay up forever. A broad happy grin on his face. There is nowhere he’d rather be 

The motorbike engine hitches, an almost silent break in the pitch, a bungled gear change. The momentary break in noise carries a singular sound on the same blustering eddies carrying the kite. A latch, a mechanism, a spring and Daniel is running. No longer chasing the kite, barely even recognisable as the happy man he was a moment before. His legs and arms piston, angled towards the road, between his daughter and wife and the approaching motorbike. His eyes are wide and there is nothing to see in his face but intent. Daniel runs fast, upwards of 25 mph over short distances, in the right shoes, a flat surface. Can run faster than a pushbike for longer than anyone would want to cycle. He bares down on the road, limbs and heart and lungs working to the same goal, towards the space he has calculated the bike will be the moment he makes the road. He can see it at his right periphery. The sort of small motorbike you see learners riding, jeans and a beige jacket, a red helmet. Daniel sucks in air, blows it out, takes in everything, Molly at this left periphery, 150 yards now, Angela a hundred more beyond her, now standing and watching, hand up to her mouth, dotted cars on gravel beyond the road, beyond Angela. 

The red helmet has seen him arrowing in, thirty, twenty, ten yards, one arm directing the motorbike and the other up to rest on it. Aiming. Daniel weaves as mud and chipped stone kick into the air, spray his face, a tug on his arm and then his side that spins him around and off his feet, felled and rolling and back up and running. A wet stain above his hip that does nothing to slow him. 

Now he is the wrong point of the triangle, the wrong side of the bike as it heads towards Angela and Molly. The sun glints off the cars parked on the gravel beyond the road and he runs harder. Angela has her back to the motorbike, running across the grass, dragging Molly behind. She knows what Daniel can do, she just has to stay alive long enough for him to do it. 

The motorbike is on its side, front wheel spinning, the man in the helmet aims and fires, successive cracks carried across the landscape. The wrong gun for distance, the woman and her daughter more than a hundred yards and still running. The man from the motorbike runs too. He wasn’t expecting this, he’s wearing cheap shoes, a crash helmet. He quickly gains on the woman dragging a panicked child. 

Daniel is moving faster, a jack-hammer punch to the base of the man’s spine, mid-stride and he has hold of the gun arm before he hits the ground, the arm twisted and the gun loosed with the body’s momentum as he kick through the arm at the joint, a muffled scream as the helmet hits the gorse and Daniel switches the weapon between hands and fires twice through the visor. Turns and immediately fires three times in the direction of two cars parked across the road. A BMW, a man is stood, a tall silhouette against the skyline, using the roof to aim, a long barrel. The windscreen etches cracks and gravel kicks but it cannot stop the heart breaking roar, a drifting cloud of cordite and Angela is no longer running. Molly stops bewildered, the warm hand pulling hers is gone, a billowing floral dress and sobbing tears and Daniel is closing in  on the BMW. He knows he will not make it, fires hopefully, knows the gun too, its strengths and weaknesses, held straight in front as his legs carry him, the windscreen shatters, the dull clunk of the car’s bodywork. Another roar and now there is no Molly.  

Daniel doesn’t stop, makes the road and a different kind of sound, a lower calibre, from the car and a punch high on his chest and he’s on his back looking up at the sky. The pop of gravel beneath tyres and a face looks down on him, inquisitive and dark, a gun poked through the open passenger window, a camcorder. Daniel only feels the impact as the bullet buries itself in the tarmac beneath him, the taste of exhaust as the engine is gunned. Soon it is only his ragged breathing he can hear, the taste of copper in his mouth, the echo of the heartbreaking roars. Then distant voices, cautious shouts. Eventually footsteps. He can hear Angela’s voice now, he is sure, coaching and soothing.

< NaNoWriMo The Handyman Day 8 - NaNoWriMo The Handyman Day 12 >

NaNoWriMo - The Handyman Day 5

Blame it on Truman

This is my first NaNoWriMo. I think it's a great premise and a really worthwhile experience. The plan for me is to see what the experience can add to my writing method.

My fiction writing and planning is all done in Scrivener, in which you can set a target word count and target date goal for the project's completion. With a 30 day deadline for NaNoWriMo and a defined target word count goal of 55k, it seemed like a great idea to enable them. Except it hasn't been. I've been fixating on the count and even with a good story structure in place, the whole experience feels like running down a steep hill too fast - sometimes it's exhilarating but mostly it's about worrying I might break both legs at the bottom.

A good example of what's not working in aiming for a daily word count, is a chapter I finished yesterday. I did a lot of planning for The Handyman, I have a scene map for the entire first half of the book. I knew the scene I needed to write was of a detective talking to my protagonist who is laid up in hospital. I knew what they needed to discuss and the outcome.

With the required word count taunting me, especially as I was 1k off the pace after three days, I headed straight into my detective narrative without giving any real time to imagining how I would stage it. I just went for it and the result was 500 words of event and discourse without any sense for the moment.

For me, feeling confident about writing successive chapters, hinges on the previous ones playing well in my mind, even if I know they will be edited, sometimes extensively, later. It has to feel right and that feeling has to come from character. I have to look back at the chapter in my mind and be able to see it play like a scene in a movie.

Just getting a scene down to hit a world count and not being able to 'see it', feels like building a house with the wrong kind of foundations, or more to the point, getting an actor to recite lines of dialogue without any attention to the quality of the performance.

Which makes the whole writing a book thing not fun. It has really brought home to me what is important about my creative workflow, which is giving myself time to write the filmed version. Not trying to hit a word count. That sounds like a no brainer now I say it, but all you seem to hear is the 'word count'.

So, I just disabled the Scrivener targets. While I did, I got to thinking how a movie director might approach 'creatively staging' a scene on a given production day. I don't expect they make up how it will play on the day, they will have planned and know ahead of time. So... over the next few days I'm going to end the day by looking at the scenes I will probably be writing the next day, and have a go at visualising how they will play.

This is still NaNoWriMo however, and in keeping with the spirit of the event I will be posting total word counts once every five days, starting from tomorrow (Day 6).

I'm not expecting anyone will be wondering where yesterdays NaNoWriMo Day 4 post went, but if you were - I totally forgot. I sat down to watch The Truman Show last night and was tucked up in bed watching the end credits before I remembered. Oh well, I thought.

Now off to plan the next five scenes. No doubt you will be hearing how it went in the next day or two.

< The Handyman - Day 3 - The Handyman Day 6>

Deconstructing Story - Edge of Darkness

The Premise

When Homicide detective Thomas Craven's daughter is gunned down outside his home the one thing he still holds precious has been taken from him. In hunting for her killer he discovers his daughter had a secret life as an activist - trying to expose a cover-up at a government contracted weapons manufacturer. As Craven begins to understand why she died a government agent is dispatched to clean up the mess.

The Appeal

In creating story there are few that resonate more than those with primal themes. There isn't much more primal than a father avenging the murder of his daughter. Likewise few do primal better than Mel Gibson.

Box Office

In 2010 Edge opened average and quickly fell off despite being highly anticipated. Worldwide takings of $81million barely covered the production budget of $80million.

Mel Gibson had not headlined a movie in eight years when Edge was released and hasn't headed a major production since (2013). He had directed two brutal movies though : the commercially successful Passion of Christ and the very violent but excellent Apocalypto. Passion had changed many peoples perceptions of Gibson away from a action movie star to someone with a religious agenda. His subsequent drunken and anti-semantic views further disengaged his core audience.

Trivia

Edge of Darkness was originally a British mini-TV series in 1985. Both the series and this movie (2010) were directed by Martin Campbell.

The role of Jedburgh was originally cast with Robert De Niro but he left after the script moved away from conspiracy thriller to revenge thriller. Ray Winstone was cast in his place. It is a small but significant role.

The original music score was composed around the movie originally being conspiracy based, which didn't suit the revised revenge theme. When the original conductor declined to re-compose the Lord of the Ring's Howard Shore was hired.

Disclaimer: Deconstructing Edge of Darkness means the whole plot will be revealed.

Full Synopsis (743 words)

Edge of Darkness is a thriller set in modern day America against a backdrop of three bodies floating to the surface of a lake next to a Nuclear Storage Facility.

Thomas Craven is a detective with a pedantic nature. He lives alone and is estranged from his daughter. His key relationship through the story is with his daughter who he loves so much he has driven her away. Her death seven minutes into the movie is the catalyst for everything Craven does. Her presence is retained throughout in Craven's mind.

Jedburgh is a government fixer who's job is to extradite solutions to national security threats. Craven's attempts to discover why his daughter died bring him into contention with Jedburgh. The two men have a common moral and bond despite Jedburgh being a constant threat.

The movie opens with a strong image of Craven dotting over his happy and loved daughter as a young child. Switching to the modern day and his grown daughter has made the 100 mile trip to see her father in Boston. Their strong bond is immediately re-established and we see there is still only one woman in Craven's life - his daughter. Emma though is ill, vomiting and suffering from nose bleeds. As they leave for the hospital a man wearing a ski-mask calls out 'Craven' and shoots Emma. She dies in Craven's arms.

Detectives work on the assumption Craven was the target. A disconnected call to Emma's mobile sends Craven in a different direction.

Haunted and comforted by his daughter's memory, a theme played to the very end, Craven unexpectedly finds a gun while sorting her things. He traces it back to her boyfriend who worked with Emma at Northmoor nuclear facility. The boyfriend won't talk in fear of  his life. In Emma's apartment Craven realises her laptop has been stolen and she has equipment for detecting radiation that goes wild when near a sample of her hair.

Craven is confronted by Jedburgh. The two men form a bond as Jedburgh reveals Emma was flagged as a terrorist for contravening security at Northmoor by working with activists. When Emma's boyfriend relents he confirms Emma went to a lawyer to help expose secrets at Northmoor but was turned away, only then helping the activists into Northmoor. They were killed on instruction of Bennett: the head of Northmoor. With Bennett culpable for Emma's death Craven cleverly evades his security and has a chance to kill him. He can't. He needs to know what his daughter was trying to expose.

Emma's boyfriend is killed and Jedburgh warns Craven away when asked what Bennett and Northmoor are hiding. Further bonding they talk about family and death, foreshadowing a key theme through the finale.

Meeting with a terrified friend of Emma's, Craven is given DVDs Emma made for him. When the woman is mown down by a car, Craven narrowly escapes and kills the driver. The threat of Northmoor grows.

The DVDs reveal Northmoor are contracted by the US Government to secretly make weapons using foreign specifications and materials. The previously estranged Emma tells Craven how much she loves her dad. All seems lost for Craven now he knows what he's up against and it quickly gets darker. He has been contaminated with radiation just as his daughter was - a plan created by Bennett and the government officials to ensure Craven dies and is discredited by Emma's terrorist label. We discover Jedburgh's fascination with death and family comes from his own terminal illness. Having leveraged a meeting with the Senator, Craven tells him everything and implores him to do the right thing.

Moving into the finale Craven outwits Northmoor again but he is now seriously ill. He is captured and taken to Northmoor. Without much time to live Craven wants justice, escaping and going to Bennett's house. He kills the Northmoor agents who shot Emma and then Bennett.

The senator is part of the Northmoor cover-up and Jedburgh helps put a lid on the deaths. When they mock Craven who is now dying in hospital, Jedburgh has a change of heart and kills the government officials and the senator. He is killed by a young cop when he lowers his weapon after learning the cop has a young family.

The movie ends with Emma's DVDs arriving at a TV station. As Craven dies in hospital Emma comes to him and they both walk into the light together.

Fifteen beats that make the story

Running Time 110 minutes

Characters
Thomas Craven - Mel Gibson
Jedburgh - Ray Winstone
Bennett - Danny Huston
Emma Craven - Bojana Novakovic
Whitehouse - Jay O. Sanders

Disclaimer: Deconstructing Edge of Darkness means the whole plot will be revealed. 

One - Opening Images

The story opens with two distinctive images. We start with a moonlit river in the dead of night, a distant riverside building like a power plant. We hear bubbling and then three bodies float to the surface.

Second we have video footage of a very young Emma Craven happily playing on the beech with the loving voice of her father urging her on. A date of 1990 is listed at the bottom to establish the video was taken some time in the past.

Two - Introducing the characters (2-13 minutes)

Thomas Craven meets his grown up daughter at the train station. Immediately Thomas is set-up as a pedant. This is repeatedly reinforced through interactions with his daughter in this section. There is a strong bond between father and daughter but we get a sense she has been gone a while and his obsessive nature might have been the reason. There is no mention of a mother at any stage in the film.

While shopping Craven sees his daughter vomiting outside the car. A brief discussion about whether she is pregnant turns to why he doesn't have a women in his life. He states she is the only girl for him.

The bond between the two, the length of time she has been away and his pedantic ways are re-stated back at the house. We also learn for the first time Craven is a detective. When Emma's nose starts bleeding and she vomits again, the daughter starts to panic. She tells Craven there is something she needs to tell him. Heading to the hospital they step outside and a man in a ski-mask calls from the road 'Craven', and fires a shotgun. The daughter takes the hit and dies trying to speak to her father. Craven weeps over her body.

In the following hours police are wrapping up forensics and we are given a real hard look at the mindset of Craven. He is practically catatonic with a blank faced, vengeful countenance familiar to anyone who's watched Mel Gibson's films. His boss, referred to as Whitehouse, tries to get him out of the house for a while. On being reminded the bad guys are armed and dangerous, Craven responds with a classic Gibson line: 'What do you think I am.'

Alone Craven washes Emma's blood from his face. Her mobile phone rings but when Craven answers the caller disconnects. Getting ready for bed he hears her voice, which soothes and guides in a theme that re-occurs to the very end of the film. He dreams of Emma as a child and wakes to the sound of the gunshot, his gun at the ready, adding substance to his capability. By casting Mel Gibson in the lead role capability can largely be assumed.

With the key characters in place and a premise set-up the story is good to go. There are however two key moments during this last section we need to take a closer look at.

Three - You are my girl (@4:35)

During the initial conversation in the car Emma askes Craven why he hasn't got a woman in his life. Craven tells Emma: 'You're my girl.' This sets in place the theme and driving force behind everything Craven does through the film. The theme is a father's love for his daughter.

Four - Emma's ringing phone  (@12 minutes)

Although the murder of Emma is the catalyst for the story it is Emma's ringing phone, disconnected when Craven answers, that sets him off on a different path to the official investigation and to her actual killers.

Five - Confronting Death (13 - 24)

Craven hands over Emma's phone to a colleague at the station and requests a list of all the contacts. At this early stage the police believe he was the target and Emma killed by accident. He is told he can't work the case but easily talks around this. 'Since it's me who's got to figure out who'd want to kill me for reasons only I would know about, I figured I might as well get paid for it.' All in the room agree.

Craven goes to identify his daughters body in the morgue where her death is confirmed as injuries arising from gunshot wounds. No mention of the vomiting. Craven cuts some of Emma's hair to keep and in a park he breaks down and tells his dead daughter he can't go on. She tells him he has to. Scattering her ashes on the same beech from the opening image we get another emotional scene and he talks to Emma again, this time as a child while she plays in the sea.

In searching Emma's room he finds ID stating she was an intern at Northmoor as a nuclear engineer. Craven finds a gun in the bedside draw and wondering why is daughter would need a gun, uses the serial number to trace the owners address. Whitehouse tells Craven a ski mask has been found with hair samples five doors from Craven's house with traced DNA. No opinion is stated but we and Craven think that sounds awfully convenient.

Through this section there were two occasions when Craven could have walked away from everything that subsequently happens. He is first told he cannot work the case but argues he needs to and later in the park he states he can't go on but is urged on by his daughter's voice.

Six - No Stopping Craven (@25)

Act Two gets underway with a twenty second montage taking him the 100 miles from Boston to Northampton. At the gun owners apartment there is a brutal fight further demonstrating Craven's ability. We discover Emma's boyfriend is the gun owner and gave it to her. He is very scared and refuses to talk, showing Craven he is being watched.

Craven takes Emma's personal possession and at her apartment discovers her laptop has been stolen. Craven discovers a meter for detecting radiation which goes wild when placed next to the sample of her hair Craven kept.

Seven - Jedburgh sub-plot (@33 minutes)

In a deserted underground parking lot we meet a government official and Jedburgh, who is immediately set up as deadly. His job is to mitigate national security issues by whatever means he sees fit. We learn Northmoor is a government weapons contractor and we get confirmation Emma was the target of the shooting, not Craven, because she helped three activists enter the Northmoor complex. Something highly classified is going on at Northmoor and Jedburgh will ensure the government's interests are protected. We get the first indication Jedburgh and Craven are on parallel paths destined to collide.

Eight - Finding Emma's Killer (35 - 55) 

Craven ensures detail of his investigation into his daughters life does not get back to Whitehouse in Boston. Working through the list of contacts from Emma's mobile he reaches a very scared woman who works in a luggage shop. She gives Craven his first lead that Emma's death is linked to her job as an intern at Northmoor.

Craven meets the head of Northmoor in the plush penthouse office at the high-tech facility. The smooth executive is called Jack Bennett who offers the usual platitudes about Craven's dead daughter and we learn Northmoor is 'officially' home to a nuclear stockpile and key to local economy. Bennett's smooth exterior drops and we get a sense of something slippery beneath the surface.

Craven gets news from Whitehouse the Ski mask DNA has been matched but when they raid the suspects house they find him executed. Investigating the scene Craven briefly considers this might be her murderer, but quickly realises there is a discrepancy in the hair length of the dead assassin and the sample found in the ski mask. This sets him against Whitehouse who seems too willing for the case to be closed.

Now believing he can't trust Whitehouse Craven burns the evidence of his own investigation and is surprised by Jedburgh. We quickly realise they have a lot in common as they discuss that Emma had been flagged as a potential terrorist threat as she helped three activists breach security at Northmoor. While smoking a cigar Jedburgh discovers Craven knows more than he should but sees merit in him continuing his investigation. Jedburgh tells him the activists were part of a group called 'nightflower'. At the end of the scene we get these two great lines and confirmation Craven thought he was about to be killed:
Craven: 'You going to arrest me?'
Jedburgh: 'I never arrest anyone.'

Craven revisits Emma's scared boyfriend and spots one of Jedburgh's cigars in the ashtray. Craven manages to bond with the boyfriend over their love of Emma, that she had worked with Nightflower to get the activists into Northmoor but didn't go in herself. That she only did this after trying every other course of action including going to a lawyer called Sanderman who told her he couldn't help. The boyfriend explains the activists we saw at the very opening were killed by radiated steam in the tunnels on Jack Bennetts orders. As we reach the mid-point of the movie Craven realises Jack Bennett was responsible for Emma's death but doesn't know how or why?

Nine - Mid-Point (@55 minutes)

After disabling Jack Bennett's personal security as he drives from Northmoor, Craven pulls Bennett over and has an opportunity to kill him in the sure knowledge he ordered Emma's death. What seems like a victory for Craven though quickly turns inside out  when Craven's sense for right and wrong and no hard evidence, prevents him from pulling the trigger.

Killing Bennett might actually have been the best result at this half way stage and possibly the one Jedburgh was looking for when he told Craven about Nightflower. Discovering who killed Emma is over, the second half of the film will be about why.

Ten - Northmoor closes in (60 - 85)

How high the stakes now are is immediately revealed with clever intercutting of footage between Emma's boyfriend and Jedburgh, both separately watching a smooth Senator talk about funding from Northmoor on TV. We see Emma's boyfriend has been shot in the head and it is implied Jedburgh was the assassin.

Jedburgh and Craven meet by a docks and talk about death and family that cleverly foreshadows the coming reveal of Jedburgh's illness. Craven wants to know what Emma was trying to help expose at Northmoor and Jedburgh warns him away. He has sympathy for Craven but may have to stop him if he continues. That these two men get on and that Craven fears Jedburgh is restated. An excellent scene.

When a young female reporter chases a story on Emma's death Craven is reminded of his daughter and takes the reporters card. He then confronts the lawyer named Sanderman who his daughter went to about blowing the whistle on Northmoor. We learn Sanderman represents Northmoor and never told Emma, tried to find out what she knew and had been twice put up for district judge by the senator we saw on TV. Craven now wants to talk with the Senator.

After more dreams of his daughter which remind us just why Craven is doing this he meets the scared luggage woman from Emma's phone contacts. She is terrified but gives him a package of DVD's from Emma after confirming a man called Robinson is the head of Nightflower. As the woman leaves she is violently mown down by a car that turns around and comes back for Craven. In a classic Gibson moment he takes out the car and driver which crashes into the river.

The DVD's are a video message from Emma explaining Northmoor is manufacturing foreign branded nuclear weapons, presumably so America can blame other countries for their misdeeds. At the end of the video, the now dead Emma addresses her father, and states her love for him.

Craven is quickly at the river shack Emma recorded the message, watching Northmoor from the same POV we saw the bodies bubble to the surface in the opening image. He is going to bring them down.

With an increasing number of loose ends around the deaths and requirement for cover-ups government officials put pressure on Bennett to put a lid on the problem. We learn Northmoor are actually creating dirty bombs that could be used to discredit Jihadist movements. Somehow.

Craven tracks down Robinson, the leader of the activist movement called Nightflower and while brutally beating him discovers the man has been paid off by Northmoor. Craven forces Robinson to tell him everything. Immediately after we see Craven checking his own fridge and discovering the milk is radiated.

Bennett and the government agents, realising there's an 'unsurvivable' and immediate risk of Craven talking, plot how to kill him while blaming it on Emma's involvement with the activists

As Craven heads to talk with the Senator it is revealed Jedburgh has a terminal illness. The Senator admits to Craven that Emma came to him blowing the whistle on Northmoor but the senator is very much locked into national security - she was in violation of 'classified' information. Northmoor is a major contributor to his campaign. Craven shows him just how much he knows believing the Senator can still do the right thing and expose Northmoor.

As we come to the end of Act Two there are two key moments we need to go back and look at.

Eleven - Dirty Bombs (@ 74 minutes)

At seventy four minutes Craven saw Emma's video message from the grave, that revealed Northmoor were illegally making foreign branded nuclear weapons. This is the first time we realise just how bad Northmoor are, what they and the government will do to cover it up. We realise how dire the consequences are for Craven. This moment echoes the mid-point where he could have killed Bennett without having to face off against both Northmoor and the government. He is now way out of his depth and the message of love from his dead daughter is testament all seems lost.

Twelve - Darkest hour (@ 82 minutes) 

At eighty two minutes we got three brief scenes.
First we assume Craven is ahead of the game when he discovers the milk in his fridge is radioactive, but the look of resignation is probably more a realisation he has drunk the milk and is going to die.
Bennett, who is on the verge of an unsurvivable scandal, decides with the government officials Craven needs to die via a 'radioactive element' passed on by his daughter.
Finally we discover Jedburgh has a terminal illness.
Everybody including Bennett is at their lowest point in the movie.

Thirteen - Act Three (@88 minutes)

We are launched into Act Three with another rise in the stakes when Craven outsmarts Northmoor agents by crashing into their car. Police attending the scene find automatic weapons in their boot. An ill Jedburgh watches it on the news. With increased exposure the government wants out from killing Craven but Bennett tells them it is already done.

Fourteen - A violent finale (90 - 108)

At ninety minutes a very touching scene with Craven and his young daughter reminds us what this movie is all about. Soon after we see Craven coughing and fear the worst.

Whitehouse comes to talk Craven into stopping after his own family have been threatened. In a strong scene between two men who have shared a past, Whitehouse reveals Craven will be set-up for the murder of Emma's boyfriend. Craven refuses to back down as Whitehouse knew he would and we see how ill Craven is as he vomits into the kitchen sink. The Northmoor agents capture Craven in his own kitchen having used Whitehouse as a decoy.

Locked up in Northmoor Craven immediately escapes and heads home to get his gun and to Bennett's guarded home. This capture and immediate escape is one of only a few odd notes in the whole movie. You get a sense the original script called for Craven to hunt down Bennett through Northmoor's high security complex but this would have been a costly and complicated set-up, so the face-off is moved to the more manageable and cheaper location of Bennett's home. I could of course be mistaken. Having Craven captured is however important - we have already been reminded Craven is doing this all for his daughter, we are now reminded Northmoor are the bad guys, which makes what Craven does next justifiable.

At ninety-nine minutes Craven approaches Bennett's home and we immediately know this isn't going to be a talky conclusion when Craven shoots dead one of the agents as Howard Shore's music rises with a sinister but triumphant edge. Craven kills the agent who shot his daughter and has a brief fight with Bennett. He pours the radiated milk over Bennett who goes wild with panic, proving one more time his culpability. 'Deep down you know you deserve this.' And bennett is shot through the throat. Craven who has been shot at least once collapses.

The senator and government officials struggle to create a press release explaining why Craven has killed Jack Bennett the head of Northmoor. We realise the Senator has been complicit all the time.

Jedburgh supplies a solution and at this moment he is on-board with the Senator. But the bond he had with Craven is invoked when they joke about Craven who is now waiting to die in hospital. Jedburgh kills the government officials and following these excellent lines as the Senator pleads for his life, kills the senator:

'I'm a united states senator.'
'By what standard?'

Jedburgh is then confronted by a young cop. In an echo of the family theme that he and Craven shared, he lets the young cop live because he has family, lowers his weapon and is shot dead by the cop.

The reporter we saw briefly earlier opens her post and finds Craven has posted her Emma Craven's expose CD's. She runs into her editors office with them.

Fifteen - Closing Image (@107 minutes)

As the movie comes to an end the dying Craven is visited by Emma. In a moving scene he dies and they walk away together into the light, providing a poignant closing image that beautifully contrasts the opening image of them together when she was a child.

Deconstructing Story - First Blood

From the age of twelve I had the headline poster on my bedroom wall, of Sylvester Stallone from First Blood, the ribbon of menacing bullets diagonal across his chest, the bandana, Rambo holding the M60. I have no idea why the image was so important because I only watched First Blood when I was sixteen. The movie still resonates with me thirty years later.

In trying to understand why First Blood has been such an iconic movie, I thought I'd break it down to fifteen core beats. The kind of beats any story needs if it will parse as entertainment in a viewers mind.

One - Introduction to Rambo

The movie begins by showing us Rambo, John J, walking down a grass verged track to a riverside settlement, accompanied by Jerry Goldsmith's laconic signature soundtrack. We discover Rambo is looking for the only surviving member of his squad from Vietnam, whom he quickly discovers died from cancer soon after returning from Vietnam. Now Rambo is completely alone and has nothing to lose. He heads back to the road and towards a small town called Hope.

Two - Characters (5 - 11 minutes) 

At five minutes we meet Sheriff Teasle, the much liked guardian of Hope. He spots Rambo and offers to give him a lift through town. Rambo wants to stop and eat but Teasle doesn't want guys like Rambo in his town. At eight minutes he drops Rambo off outside town. Rambo stops and deliberates and then starts walking back. He is arrested and his hunting knife confiscated.

At the police station we are quickly introduced to all the characters who play a significant part in the first half of the movie.

Three - Theme (@ 5 minutes)

During the arrest of Rambo, Teasle states that wearing his military jacket and the american flag 'like that' is what got him arrested. Throughout the movie to its closing scenes the repeating theme is how America has mistreated the soldiers who fought the Vietnam war.

Four - Catalyst (@ 13 minutes) 

Although Rambo's arrest sets up everything that will happen, it is his reluctance to be fingerprinted and his first meeting with the dark hearted Deputy Galt, that sets the violence in motion. We see how brutal Galt can be and also from flashbacks, just how unstable Rambo is.

Five - Preparing for the Adventure (13 - 16 minutes)

From the moment Rambo arrives at the station to the moment he escapes on sixteen minutes, there is no attempt by any party to avoid the adventure ahead. Rambo is treated brutally with relish, which results in horrifying flashbacks as the officers try to shave him. Rambo has deliberately put himself in this situation. He takes out half the personal in the station as he escapes.

Six - The adventure begins ( @16 minutes)

The escape as we move into act two sets-up the deepening conflict between Teasle and Rambo. Teasle relentlessly follows cross country in a squad car as Rambo flees on a motorbike. We get a sense that something has been gnawing at Teasle for some time and his determination to follow Rambo embodies his need for a violent resolution. No reason is stated in the movie but we see it in every gesture of Brian Dennehy's superb performance. As Teasle later says, 'I wanted to kill that kid so bad I could taste it.'

Likewise with Rambo, we get a sense that now he's on the run he is alive again and free. Above all he is doing something he is good at. This is a fight both men were looking for and now they have it.

Seven - No sub-plots

The whole story is focused around the hunt for Rambo and then his return attack on the town of Hope. There are no sub-plots or other layers. Colonel Trautman arrives on the scene at the mid-point but serves only to pad out the Rambo back story and add weight to his threat.

Eight - Fun in the Forest (16 - 40 minutes)

We enter the first of two big sections in act two. This one will lead us to the mid-point of the movie. The resourcefulness and ability of Teasle is demonstrated in his ability to command and focus resources. He above all is the one with any ability to capture Rambo, with the inability of his men demonstrated by their 'deer hunting' approach to the search and spoiling the scent of the hunting dogs. Rambo further demonstrates his skills by salvaging survival equipment from a scrap yard.

At twenty-five minutes the stakes are raised considerably when Rambo is forced to climb down a sheer cliff to escape. Deputy Galt starts shooting at Rambo from a helicopter, which forces Rambo to jump, using a tree to break his fall. He sustains an arm injury. Not content with wounding Rambo, Galt moves in for the kill. As a last desperate act Rambo throws a rock at the helicopter windscreen which unbalances Galt who falls to his death onto the rocks below.

Teasle sees Galt's dead body from the top of the cliff and Rambo offers a truce. Instead he is fired upon and we learn Teasle and Galt have been lifelong friends. At the same time Teasle discovers Rambo was an elite and medalled soldier. Both men now have more of a fight than they might have been looking for. Teasle's murderous desire and Rambo's need to survive have reached primal levels.

Teasle rallies his officers and they go with the hunting dogs to track down Rambo. Once more we get a sense Teasle alone is the one with any ability to do this, with the hunting dogs and then each of the officers systematically and cleverly taken out by Rambo, leaving the forest full of screams as Teasle's men call for help.

Nine - Mid-Point (@ 41 minutes)

Rambo confronts Teasle as the last man standing, telling him not to push it, that he could easily have killed them all. He lets Teasle go. Although this seems like a victory for Rambo his situation is immediately made worse when Teasle escalates the hunt, bringing in the state police and national guard. The hunt is turned into a national media event with Rambo demonised.

Ten - Soldiers close in (43 - 68 Minutes)

The second big chunk of story, taking us to the end of act two, starts with a slow down in pace. The narrative briefly summarises how we have got to this stage with a performance focused around the embattled but vengeful Teasle, who blames Galt's death firmly on Rambo. We are introduced to Colonel Sam Trautman, the soldier who trained Rambo, who implores Teasle to let Rambo go, so they can later catch him after the situation is defused. Ignoring this advice Teasle uses Colonel Trautman to initiate radio contact with Rambo. In one of the best moments in the movie, that both humanises Rambo and makes him more of a threat, Trautman tries to talk Rambo into turning himself in. In a repeat of the mistreatment of Vietnam soldiers theme, Rambo who is hiding in a mineshaft, refuses to run any more. 'There are no friendly civilians', he says, stating they pushed first, not him. The radio conversation has given a fix on Rambo's location.

At fifty-three minutes and the following morning, the national guard closes in on Rambo. He easily gives them the slip but is discovered by a young boy hunting with his dad. In a moment that reveals Rambo's true character he refuses to kill the boy whose screaming brings the soldiers back on Rambo's trail. He returns to the mineshaft and the national guard wait outside. At fifty-eight minutes the national guard, scared by Rambo's devastating return fire, rocket launch the mine. The mine is blown up and Rambo is believed dead. Although Colonel Trautman thinks Rambo might have survived he endures Teasle's rant about the easy victory. A rant Teasle later apologises for, which opens up some vital empathy for the sheriff as we head towards the finale.

Rambo has in-fact survived but endures his darkest moment escaping the mine at sixty-four minutes as the tunnel increasingly narrows and he is attacked by rats. Teasle and Trautman briefly share a drink and we get real context from Trautman for the kind of killer Rambo was in Vietnam - a war of attrition that foreshadows the hell Rambo is about to bring to the town of Hope.

Eleven - Rambo Lost (@ 58 minutes)

There are two key moments in the previous section that are important beats in the story. The first is the national guard rocket launching the mineshaft with Rambo inside. Although we do not believe Rambo can be dead the weight of Rambo's story then falls on the shoulders of Colonel Trautman. Having talked up his soldier's abilities it seems all is lost when Rambo is so easily killed by part-time soldiers. This moment directly contrasts the mid-point, where Rambo's victory of Teasle was short lived. This moment in the mineshaft is a short lived victory for Teasle, because Rambo is actually alive and will soon be back.

Twelve - Darkest Moment (@ 64 minutes)

The second key moment during the back-end of act two, comes at sixty-four minutes when Rambo reaches his lowest point in the movie. In the mineshaft with the tunnel narrowing, he is attacked by rats, a very memorable scene full of terror for Rambo, in turn demonstrating his humanity.

Thirteen - Into Act Three (@ 68 minutes)

After the rat attack it can only get better for Rambo and quickly does, when he finds a way out. He climbs a ladder and discovers he's amid the retreating troops who believe he's dead. And so we ease into Act Three and the violent finale.

Fourteen - Attack on Hope (69 - 88 minutes)

Rambo immediately steals a van with an M60 machine gun in the back. He races back to Hope, taking out a squad car full of pistol totting policemen and breaks through a roadblock to a victorious upsurge in the Jerry Goldsmith music score.

At seventy-four minutes he sets a petrol station in Hope on fire which quickly results in Teasle evacuating the streets. Teasle climbs onto the station roof with a rifle and waits for Rambo to show his face. Rambo doesn't, he systematically takes apart the town, and everything Teasle is responsible for. Finally he creates a diversion and spots Teasle on the roof.

At eighty-four minutes Rambo runs through Teasle's line of sight to draw him out and then unloads the M60 into Teasle, who is badly wounded but survives. Rambo is now ready to take on the rest of the police and National Guard positioned outside the police station.

At eighty-five minutes Colonel Trautman appears and tries talking Rambo down. In a very moving scene that pays off on the mistreatment of soldiers theme and the horrifying experiences of war that still haunt Rambo, he is reduced to a sobbing wreck and the battle is over.

Fifteen - The End (@ 89 minutes)

Rambo leaves the station and goes into custody with Colonel Trautman. He has shared his nightmare and in contrast to the beginning he is no longer alone. Teasle is lifted into an ambulance. The movie closes freeze framed on Rambo with Trautman at his side. Dan Hill sings his hit song 'It's a Long Road' in accompaniment.

Summary

First Blood is a story that appeals for its primal nature, of the hunter and hunted, a fight to the death. The enduring nature of the story is underpinned by the age old motif of the soldier who fights for his people, who is then caste out by the people, fearful for what he became in saving them. The film leaves us pondering contrasting moral viewpoints: Teasle believes men like Rambo are only ever trouble and everything that happens, especially Galt's death, prove him right; set against Rambo's belief he has been victimised once too often. Brian Dennehy's performance as Teasle, without any reference to his past, tells us exactly the man he is and what he stands for. Likewise Stallone is understated but likeable as the traumatised ex-soldier with blood and terror on his hands. We feel empathy, not just for Rambo - the errant son, but also for Teasle - the strict father figure, that lasts beyond the closing credits of the film.

Box Office

Made for $15,000,000, First Blood was released October 1982, going on to make a world-wide gross at the cinema of $125,000,000 It went on to be a big video and DVD hit, spawning the hugely successful and very different, partly James Cameron penned Rambo II.

Trivia

First Blood was originally set to star Paul Newman as Sheriff Teasle and then later Steve McQueen as Rambo. In David Morrell's original book of the same name, Rambo is shot dead at the end by Colonel Trautman. This was the original ending of the film too, but when it was test screened the audience almost rioted and they filmed an alternative ending, with Rambo surviving.

Hello Orin Moretta

Julie Cohen

The group of writers I meet with each month had invited over Julie Cohen to discuss character generation. We spent an hour stepping through key areas and spending five minutes here and there fleshing out our freshly minted character. Not usually a fan of writing lessons over actually writing I thought it was HUGE fun.

Two chairs further around the table was @daddyhoggy (known in wider circles as John Hoggard). He posted detail of his character to the writing group's website. A great post that got me thinking, so much I slept little last night. Instead I spent an hour between 3 and 4AM editing the product of my character generation and ended up with this.

     Orin Moretta is 41 years old although it would be hard to tell if you were ever close enough to properly look. She is just under six foot and walks with the poise of a dancer despite never having danced, not in the traditional sense at least. Orin wears her hair in a dark bob with carefully woven yellow strands, complimented by the reflective yellow lenses of her glasses. She is a woman that few dismiss, sticking in the memory from that first glance. It is her calling card, a warning as much as anything.
     Orin is moving against the flow of distracted commuters and shoppers, turning into a shadowed side street of high bricked walls and metal fire escapes. Through to another street with less people by some magnitude, lines of locked garages, litter molested by trapped breezes. She walks to the last garage in a long row, a dark blue shutter and peeling paint. Lights a cigarette while leaning against the wall and waiting. The ash burns and she blows smoke that's instantly whisked away. Her attention is entirely consumed by this quiet street and all it might offer, eventually flicking the cigarette, arcing end over end into a small restless pile of rubbish, where it glows and then dims.
     Orin is on the move, back into the alley, beneath a fire escape and she jumps, little more than a hop for her, a brief moment hanging from the metal, and then a pivot through her hips, her legs creating downward force that results in a screech as metal moves over metal. She lands crouched and sure, as the ladder unfurls behind her. She turns and steps onto it and climbs.
     The crumbling warehouse is store these past years to vagrants and vermin. Glassless windows and damp that creeps as a fine moss across the grey concrete floor. A dirt streaked crate has been placed central, beneath this cavernous space. The crate is hip height, a little taller than it is wide. It speaks of time. A stamp on all sides barely legible through the grime. The stamp an icon of four rotating right angles joined at their core.
     Orin's considered gaze takes in the passage of scuffed footfall not yet layered beneath the dust that swirls and settles. She studies the crate, light enough to be carried by a single pair of feet. Arcing around she completes a full circle before kicking forward, a quick blur that connects and a crack of wood. Loosed enough to leverage the lid with her hands, noiselessly placing it beside the crate.
     The object inside is on a plinth, held in place by protective rubber strips. She removes them and takes the object into her hands. At first glance you might think it an anvil with the edges all rounded, made of metal but not weighted enough to be solid. She holds it to her breast as if cradling a child and runs a hand over the smooth cold metal.
     Orin's problem is not the object she now holds or what she might do with it. It is simply that it's now in her possession. She had been taught how to use it, without ever having touched, or seen it. Just as her guardian had trained her never having seen it himself. Orin's problem is that possession has been triggered by her guardian. Her journey begins with discovering why.
     Her conflict is not dismay at being the one chosen from a long line of guardians, now the watchman and protector. It isn't that she doesn't believe she is equal to the task stretching before her. The conflict is having been trained for this very moment, she has during this time grown to despise the needy mass of people she is sworn to protect.
     A vibration in her thigh and she presses her hand to her ear, answering the call. 'Where are you?' The woman asks.
     'Not close.' Orin answers.
     'You didn't call last night.'
     'I was busy.'
     'Doing what?'
     'You know what I was doing.'
     'You switched off tracking.'
     'I did.'
     'So?'
     'You don't need to know.'
     'The customer is waiting.'
     'The customer will not need to wait.'
     'There aren't any flights.'
     'That is correct.'
     'So you're going to miss the deadline.'
     'The customer's deadline will not be missed.'
     She disconnects although the conversation is not over. She runs her hand over the metal, then each smooth end held in a hand, focusing on the metal, seeing now not with her eyes. Her pulse slows and her mind fumbles then joins. She flicks through the vast array of pathways, letting her lifetime's imagination of this moment calibrate with the dizzying reality. Choosing her pathway. The air around her vibrates, an enveloping haze and a crack of sound not heard by any human, sending starlings in a screeching swarm to the sky. All that remains is the dissipating haze and the lidless crate on the old warehouse floor.

Not perfect by any means but great fun and it shows how quickly you can generate a well rounded character (in this case two hours). If you're looking for some great ideas in writing or looking for an entertaining read, then be sure to check out Julie's website. She is a much published author as well as an engaging tutor. Be sure to check out John's original character posting too.

Emotional Colour

Finish it.

I did write a book of fiction. It is out there and it has been read by so many people. 'What about the next one?' Many ask. 'When can we read it?'

Isn't that a wonderful question to have as a writer!

Writing book one took all of me, at least everything I was to the point I finished it, which was 2010. I came up with the idea for book two about a year before that, in 2009. My time from 2010 to 2012 was largely spent getting book one polished and published. All the while book two brewed and bubbled in my mind, busily evolving the bones of a story from the stew of imagination. In 2012 I started writing it. It is there, the bones, but in writing this second book I have learned a lot, not just of what it takes to craft the lives and dramas of whole new characters, but in the kind of writer I am.

From the moment I started writing properly in 2002, it has been a release valve. Reflected in the words are all my frustrations, hopes, dreads, loves and murderous rages. Most of all writing is a means for my emotions to be gently let out. Emotion for me, I have learned, is everything. I'm telling you now like I've always known this, the reality is it took a hard year of struggling. It has been a year of plotting and progressing slowly, driven now by the need for a second book to create a broader commercial canvas. Some of the writing has glowed but so much has been dry - words and actions strung around momentum in the name of a story.

Finishing book one really had taken all of me. Everything had been expelled in creating Sarah Sawacki's story, the emotions of my imagination given colour by the books, images, video and music, were all now part of that book. Very little remained inside of me.

Fortunately this is a restless mind. I have realised the struggling isn't so much that I haven't got another book in me, it's that I'm busy creating a whole load of new imagination to pour into book two. The research has been as much discovering the content and colour of the emotions as it has the technical detail. This is after-all a learning process, I'm coming to understand it always will be.

Book two is about a man who makes a living protecting people, coming to terms with the murder of his wife. It is about him discovering why. It is now busily being animated, the dry words given emotional colour. It is being written because I care for the story, it is being crafted for a commercial audience to share and enjoy, not just so I can expand my canvass of work. Book three will be the next stage in Sarah Sawacki's story. I'm very keen to find out how much of what went into her first story will be there for me again. We will see.

That Eureka Moment

I think it was RS Guthrie, in an interview, who said writing a book is made up of two stages. How true that is. During that first stage, you, the author, have to push. At this stage the story and characters are indistinct. As the writer you have to constantly push to make them distinct as you head towards the second stage - the pull stage. This second stage is the most exciting. The characters and premise for the story, literally come to life. The second stage is all about the journey as the characters pull you to the end.

The first stage, the push one, is very hard work. It is the stage you hear writers talk about when they will find anything to do other than write. I read recently a Guardian writer with a book deadline drove half-way across Europe looking  for the perfect venue for creativity. In the process avoiding the very thing he was contracted to do. It is so very tough. It's tough because you have to create characters that involve the reader emotionally, that the reader will see as a real person. To create these characters you have to somehow dredge characteristics from your life experiences that you will place, layer upon layer, until you have a living and breathing entity, one whose depth of thought and action, reaches out to the reader and drives the story. In doing this you can find yourself writing 1,000 words to express each 100 word stream of thought. You constantly shuffle images and narrative in your mind, until the right picture and voice combined somehow stick. It is not sudden, it's gradual and torturous. You can totally understand how Stephen King came to write 'The Dark Half'.

If it was RS Guthrie that defined the push and pull stages for me, it was Adam Croft that said you get through these hardest writing moments by committing to just 30 minutes at a time. Instead of writing a blog or researching some distantly relevant detail, or driving across Europe, you write by promising yourself it will only be for 30 minutes. To just see where it takes you. It is a strategy I have adopted these last few weeks and has steadily seen me progress the story and the characters in my mind. So much so, I was walking across Hyde Park two days ago and had my eureka moment.

http://bit.ly/zjO68u

This eureka moment is not the transition from push to pull, but rather the one that will drive the transition, because it will also be a key factor in driving the story to it's conclusion. It's what I will be pulling towards. It is in reality a moment in the story that I have known for a long time, but have not known the characters enough to see how they get there. It was the main female character's internal dialogue, spinning in my mind as I headed towards Park Lane, that resulted in the epiphany. It wasn't so much the moment but her voice in that moment. It is not so much even what she gives herself to, but in knowing the love with which she does it and how long it has existed inside of her.

In realising this the character has become distinct for me. I see her. I hear her. I know what she has been. I know what she hopes for. Unlike the equal moment in Chasing Innocence it does not exist within the final paragraphs of the story. In this case it's the catalyst that propels us to the conclusion. If there's a dry eye in the house I will have failed miserably as a writer.

In the Absence of Daydreams

I've been struggling to write recently. Not so much in finding time, or in knowing what I want to write. The struggle has been in the word to word creation of the imagery. I sit down and it feels like I'm writing in black and white. It takes a while for the mental picture to colour itself in. The trouble is, time is a premium. If your daily writing is split into two chunks of two hours, you're not going to be productive if it takes you an hour each time to get warmed up.

I've been deliberating this for a few weeks now. If I'm honest it's been like this for a while. It's not a lack of motivation. Chasing Innocence is now selling and my book is sitting on a lot of Kindles. As a writer knowing your work is being read is second only to hearing it was good. This is the thing. I know I'll need several good books to build long term success. Ideas certainly aren't the problem. So what is?

The good lady Prid offered her take on my dilemma: 'Your not into the characters like you were last time. You knew everything about them, you heard them talking, you knew their favourite colours.' The good lady can sometimes sound like a wise old Jedi. She's rarely wrong.

Sam Worthington aka Marcus
 Hangiman

It wasn't so much that I wasn't invested in the story or characters. What I have planned sends shivers down my spine. It's hugely exciting. What she said did get me thinking back to the 'last time'. It was four years ago that I started my last book. Of course writing about those characters now feels like writing about close friends, but at the beginning, I now remembered, I struggled. I had invested a huge amount of time visualising them. I had picked actors who I thought would play them in the movie. I montaged pictures of them and hung it on the wall. I'd daydreamed endlessly as I made the twenty-five minute walk across Hyde Park in the morning and back at night. I'd written a huge amount of dialogue for these characters as they talked to each other as I figured out who they were. Almost all of it was edited out later once I'd figured them in my mind.

Rie Rasmussen aka Angela Hangiman

This time around there aren't any pictures on my wall because, well, I'd got a little over confident. I'd forgotten just what it takes. The narrative of book two is first person, so it's almost all dialogue of a sort, so it's going to be hard work getting the voice right. Most of all though, all my time outside of writing is currently consumed by work or being a mostly obedient husband, or scheming on marketing Chasing Innocence. The reason it was taking me so long to get warmed up each time I tried to write is because I'd stopped daydreaming. The things you forget. I'd dreamed up the last third of Chasing Innocence as I walked back and forth across Hyde Park each day. Before that I'd daydreamed during the long drive along the M4 to Bristol every morning. Daydreaming was a vital element of my story creation.

It was a wonderful re-discovery. I now have pictures of Rie Rasmussen and Sam Worthington pinned to the cork-board on my study door. More importantly I trotted passed the entrance to the tube this morning and then passed the bus-stop as I headed towards Hyde Park.