LIKE A
FILM DIRECTOR, BEGIN WITH A STORYBOARD By Donna Del Oro
When I was
in junior high school, I discovered comic books. I loved the Archie and Katy
Keene comics and often tried to change or continue a story that a particular
comic book had featured. Then I began to draw and write my own comics, creating
my own characters and storyline. My friends loved them, and so with this
encouragement I wrote my first novel at age sixteen. Predictably, it was called
THE SEVENTEENTH SUMMER, a teen romance full of bittersweet longings. That
novel, too, began with a storyboard, or frames of scenes that I drew and whose
dialogue I’d sketched and printed out. I drew the major scenes like the frames
of a comic strip.
MANY, MANY
YEARS LATER—and as an art minor--I find that storyboards still help me plot out
a story outline. I might sketch the scenes in colored pencil or felt
pen. The frames are usually 4 x 5 inches or half of a typical printer
page. After they’re finished, I’ll cut the pages up and tape them on the wall
or tack them on my cork board. Each frame is labeled by chapter number or
chapter number, scene one, two, three, etc. Then I study them to see where the
story arc is going.
Just as a
film director uses his storyboard to help him plan out scenes as well as decide
on camera angles and close-ups vs. medium/long shots, a writer can use his
storyboard to plot out the scene’s location and POV. Of course, you don’t have
to draw or sketch every action in the scene. In my case, I’ll sketch out the main
characters in the beginning of a scene with a hint of the setting—time period
and location--as a backdrop. How the scene develops is what I decide mentally
but seeing my vision of the major characters in that particular beginning scene
helps me decide what the emphasis of that scene is, its purpose in the overall
story, whether it’s a “reflective” or “action” scene, AND the scene’s POV.
Sometimes
I’ll be halfway through the sketch when I realize the POV is all wrong or the
setting needs to be changed. The drawn scene helps me visualize and slow
down the motion picture that’s running through my mind, acts as a kind of
creative prompt or cue, and alerts me to what is wrong with the scene. Or vice
versa, what is right with it. George Lucas once said in an interview that
he redrew the STAR WARS honky-tonk saloon scene several times until he got it
just right. He said he scripted each move and camera angle until it all
came together exactly as he wanted it. When he finally turned it over to
his designers and cinematographers, they knew what he wanted. It’s a
laborious process, perhaps, but a creative one which I, and other writers I
know, use to help us focus on the basics.
When I see
the strip of frames—one frame per chapter or scene, depending on how ambitious
I feel—I can determine more easily, too, whether the pacing is working. In the
romantic thrillers that I write, the pacing is especially important and has to
be fast enough for the suspense to be sustained and increased to the
all-important climactic scene in the book. However, in a thriller you also need
some down time, or scenes in which characterization is developed through
dialogue and inner monologues. The visual pictures I’ve sketched help me to see
where the “reflective” scenes are in relation to the “action”
scenes. As in any story, there has to be a balance, but if you follow the
three-act structure, each “act” in the story has to have a crisis point towards
the end, followed by a resolution attempt or complication that adds to
the suspense. The storyboard technique aids the writer in visualizing and
timing those crisis points.
For us
visually dependent writers who also like some structure in our story plotting,
storyboarding is an extremely useful technique. If you’re the least bit artistic,
try it!
Donna Del Oro spent her childhood in two places, Silicon
Valley, CA and the countryside of East Texas, as her father tried several job
opportunities. Finally settling in Silicon Valley, she grew up in a bilingual,
bicultural world--Spanish on her mother's side and English on her father's.
Comfortable in both worlds, she decided upon retiring from teaching to write
about her Hispanic side. Four women's fiction books resulted and a series about
professional singers, their careers and love lives. Retired and devoting much
of her abundant free time to exercise, writing, singing and her grandson, Donna
has finally reached a point in life that totally satisfies her. Life is good
and she has no complaints, just a lot of gratitude for her many blessings.
Athena
Butler is the modern-day descendant of an ancient bloodline of gifted
clairvoyants. She’s trying to live a “normal” life as an artist, but with the
disappearance of her mother and other notable psychics, she finds herself
dragged into danger. She, too, is a target.
Kas
Skoros, the son of a psychic, is a Guardian, one of a secret society whose task
is protecting the Delphi bloodline. He rushes to rescue Athena and uncover the
mastermind behind the kidnapping plot.
Athena
and Kas stay one step ahead with Athena’s psychic abilities and Kas’s training
in law enforcement. When they seek refuge at the Skoros compound in the Sierra
Nevada foothills, the FBI convinces them that the only way to stop the
kidnappers and trap the mastermind is for Athena to offer herself as bait.
Excerpt:
Chapter
One
Pyramid Valley, Nevada
Thursday AM
Athena
Butler’s eyes blinked open and she sat up.
Coming back
from The Flow was always jolting. Emerging from the stream of spirits was like
a water skier lurching out of the water, pulled by a strong, invisible force.
The mind caught up later to the body as if it required a rough snap to break
free.
Likewise, to
go there was like jumping out of a plane and feeling the air rush to your face,
your limbs weightless and wobbly. Most of the time, it was a joy to enter this
world of unseen spirits. Athena welcomed her visits, especially at night when
she found herself invariably alone.
When she was
a child, she’d often emerge from The Flow with a fearful whimper and a cry.
She’d wept and wanted to stay in The Flow. Now, at twenty-six, Athena had grown
accustomed to her mental flights. They were no longer fear-inducing for she
understood their purpose. But her exits were still mind-wrenching and she often
lay in bed, disoriented.
This morning,
fear clutched her heart and she could barely breathe. With a trembling hand,
she reached for her phone. Breathless, she raked her other hand through her hair
and kicked her legs over the side of the bed.
She punched her mother’s mobile numbers. It was nine o’clock East Coast
time.
“Thank God,
Mama! Where are you?”
“I’m in
Baltimore, near the--.”
“Mama, I had
a dream about you. A Flow Dream. The spirits—they want me to warn you! Whatever
you’re doing right now, get off the streets.
Go home and lock the door. Call the police!”
Her heart
felt like a ticking bomb in her chest.
Athena could barely speak. But her mother knew her and understood her
Flow dreams. They were seldom wrong though sometimes a little off in timing.
Today, a threat was imminent. She knew it.
“Slow down,
Thena. Take a deep breath and tell me slowly about your dream. I don’t doubt
you but we must be able to interpret it correctly. You know how these Flow
Dreams are. Sometimes the symbolism is strange and difficult to interpret.”
“Okay--just
go home and lock the door. Now, Mama!”



How does one make a storyboard if they can't draw? What do you suggest?
ReplyDeleteMelissia Griffith