"The universe is made of stories, not of atoms."
—Muriel Rukeyser
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Showing posts with label Book to Film. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book to Film. Show all posts

What Authors Need to Know About Book-to-Film Adaptation

 

Authors often wonder whether their book could become a movie.

After all, a compelling novel already has characters, a world, a plot, and a story. However, taking a book from the page to the screen involves more than finding a producer and selling the film rights.

A book can become a movie. Yet not every book is structured to work as a movie without significant adaptation.

In a Film Courage interview, literary manager, producer, author, and story consultant Dr. Ken Atchity explains what writers need to understand when they hope to move a story from publishing into film or television.

His advice begins with a fundamental distinction: novels and movies serve different audiences.

A Great Novel Is Not Automatically a Great Movie

A novel gives readers room to explore.

Readers can spend pages inside a character’s thoughts. They can follow multiple storylines, absorb extensive backstory, and take their time moving through the narrative.

Film works differently.

Because a movie unfolds in real time, the audience must understand the story through what they see and experience. Consequently, the structure needs to create momentum from beginning to end.

That difference becomes particularly important when a novelist considers adaptation.

An editor may accept a novel in which the third act develops gradually. A film audience, however, expects the story to build toward a decisive turning point, climax, and resolution.

What works on the page does not always work on the screen.

Therefore, authors who hope to see their books adapted need to look at their stories through a filmmaker’s eyes.

The Three-Act Structure Still Matters

One of the biggest challenges in adapting a novel can be the story’s third act.

In many novels, the transition from the second act into the third is not especially pronounced. The story may gradually move toward its conclusion, and readers may accept that progression.

Film audiences tend to expect something more defined.

The story needs a clear progression:

Act One: Establish the protagonist, the world, the central conflict, and what is at stake.

Act Two: Complicate the protagonist’s goal. Increase the obstacles. Raise the stakes.

Act Three: Force the protagonist into the final confrontation and deliver a satisfying climax and resolution.

Most importantly, the movement between these acts needs to feel purposeful.

A strong Act Two should create pressure that eventually forces the story into Act Three. Then, the third act should deliver the payoff the audience has been anticipating.

As Ken emphasizes, Hollywood storytelling depends on keeping the audience engaged throughout the entire experience.

Your Protagonist Needs Someone to Fight

Structure alone does not make a story cinematic.

Characters matter just as much.

At the center of a compelling film is a protagonist the audience can understand, care about, or root for. That does not mean the protagonist needs to be perfect. In fact, flaws often make a character more relatable.

The audience simply needs a reason to invest.

However, the protagonist also needs opposition.

That is where the antagonist becomes essential.

A weak antagonist creates a predictable story. Conversely, a powerful antagonist forces the protagonist to work harder, make difficult choices, and change.

The stronger the antagonist, the stronger the protagonist has to become.

As a result, stronger opposition creates stronger conflict. Stronger conflict creates greater tension. Ultimately, that tension gives the audience a reason to keep watching.

The Antagonist Should Be Worthy of the Protagonist

An antagonist should not exist simply to make the protagonist’s life difficult.

The antagonist needs a goal, motivation, power, and the ability to create meaningful consequences.

More importantly, the antagonist should be capable of winning.

That possibility creates uncertainty.

If the audience knows the protagonist will easily defeat the villain, there is little dramatic tension. However, when the antagonist is intelligent, capable, motivated, and difficult to defeat, every confrontation carries greater weight.

That is why character conflict becomes so important when evaluating a book for film adaptation.

Ask yourself:

  • Who is standing in the protagonist’s way?
  • What does the antagonist want?
  • Why is the antagonist difficult to defeat?
  • What happens if the protagonist fails?
  • How does the conflict escalate?
  • What forces the protagonist to change?

If those questions do not have strong answers, the story may need more development before it is ready for the screen.

Movies Need a Big Payoff

Another important consideration is the ending.

A reader may finish a novel feeling satisfied by a quiet or ambiguous conclusion. A movie audience often expects a stronger sense of payoff.

That does not mean every film needs an explosive ending.

Instead, the ending needs to feel earned.

The central conflict should reach a meaningful climax. The protagonist should face the consequences of the choices made throughout the story. Finally, the audience should understand why the journey mattered.

A satisfying ending can determine how an audience remembers the entire experience.

Therefore, writers should not wait until the final pages to think about the ending.

The ending should influence the story from the beginning.

Think Like a Filmmaker Before You Pitch Your Book

If you believe your novel could become a movie, start by stepping away from the manuscript.

Instead, look at the story as a potential film.

What is the movie?

Who is the protagonist?

What does the protagonist want?

What stands in the way?

Who or what is the antagonist?

Where does the story turn?

What happens at the midpoint?

What forces the story into the third act?

What is the climax?

And, finally, what does the audience feel when the story ends?

These questions can reveal whether your book already contains the dramatic architecture needed for adaptation.

They can also reveal where the story needs work.

Your Book and Your Movie Are Two Different Storytelling Experiences

A successful adaptation does not necessarily reproduce a book scene by scene.

Instead, it identifies the story’s dramatic engine and rebuilds the material for a different medium.

That process may require changing characters, combining events, eliminating subplots, restructuring the timeline, or strengthening the central conflict.

For authors, that can be difficult.

You spent years building the world of your novel. Naturally, you may want to protect every scene, character, and storyline.

However, adaptation requires a different question.

Instead of asking, “How do I put my entire book on the screen?”

Ask:

“What is the movie inside my book?”

That shift can change everything.

Should Your Book Become a Movie?

The answer begins with the story.

A strong candidate for adaptation typically has elements that can engage a broad audience: a compelling protagonist, meaningful conflict, a worthy antagonist, escalating stakes, clear turning points, and a satisfying climax.

At the same time, the story needs to work visually.

Ultimately, ideas do not make movies. Stories do.

And great stories do more than entertain. They create characters audiences care about, conflicts they want to see resolved, and emotional journeys they want to experience.

For authors dreaming of seeing their work on screen, that is where the real work begins.

Watch Ken Atchity’s Full Film Courage Interview

In “Can Any Book Be Made Into a Movie?”, Ken Atchity discusses the challenges of adapting books for film, what makes a story cinematic, and what writers should understand about the expectations of a Hollywood audience.

Want to know whether your story is ready for its next step?

Writers Lifeline helps authors examine story structure, character development, market potential, and the elements that can determine whether a project is ready to move forward.

Your book may have the potential to become a film.

The first step is understanding the story you actually have—and the story the audience needs to see.

Story Merchant E-Book Deal - Sell Your Story to Hollywood $.99

Through the expanding influence of the Internet and the corporatization of both publishing and entertainment, the process of getting your book to the big screen has gotten more complicated, more eccentric, and more exciting.⁠⁠

The Power of How Stories Change The World with Ken Atchity

The Write Mindset | Thomas J. Bellezza






With fifty years’ experience in the publishing world and thirty-five years in entertainment, Dr. Ken Atchity is a self-labeled “Story Merchant” author, professor, producer, career coach, teacher, and literary manager, responsible for launching dozens of books and films.

Performentor Shorts: Dr. Ken Atchity on Rejection as an Illusion

Well-known writers throughout history have shared their perspectives on the inevitable rejection that comes with the profession. Their insights often emphasize the importance of persistence, self-belief, and finding a valuable lesson in every "no."

Listen to Dr. Ken Atchity reframe rejection as an illusion we can see past, instead of an unmovable barrier. It matters. Find out why.


via @peopleenergyprinciples

Revisting: Myth to Movie: Pygmalion By Ken Atchity



The wish-fulfillment archetype —the dream become flesh—finds perennially poignant expression in stories based on the Pygmalion myth.

A Cyprian sculptor-priest-king who had no use for his island’s women, Pygmalion dedicated his energies to his art. From a flawless piece of ivory, he carved a maiden, and found her so beautiful that he robed her and adorned her with jewels, calling her Galatea (“sleeping love”). His became obsessed with the statue, praying to Aphrodite to bring him a wife as perfect as his image. Sparked by his earnestness, the goddess visited Pygmalion’s studio and was so pleasantly surprised to find Galatea almost a mirror of herself she brought the statue to life. When Pygmalion returned home, he prostrated himself at the living Galatea’s feet. The two were wed in Aphrodite’s temple, and lived happily ever after under her protection.

Though it was never absent from western literature, this transformation myth resoundingly entered modern consciousness with Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion, which enlisted it to explore the complexity of human relationships in a stratified society. My Fair Lady, based on Shaw’s retelling, took the myth to another level of audience awareness.

The obligatory beats of the Pygmalion myth: the protagonist has a dream inspired by encounter with an unformed object (“Look at her, a prisoner of the gutter!”), uses his skills and/or prayers to shape it into a reality; falls in love with the embodiment of his dream, and lives happily ever after, or not.

Essential to the pattern is that the dreamer-protagonist is rewarded for doing something about his dream, for turning it from dream to reality with or without a dea ex machina. Thanks to the infinite creativity of producers, directors, and writers, Pygmalion has generated countless wonderful movie story variations: Inventor Gepetto, in Pinocchio (1940--with numerous remakes), wishes that the wooden puppet he’s created could become the son he never had; a department store window dresser (Robert Walker), in One Touch of Venus (1948, based on the Ogden Nash/S. J. Perelman musical), kisses a statue of Venus (Ava Gardner) into life— trouble begins when she falls in love with him. In 1983’s thenEducating Rita (from Willy Russell’s play), a young hairdresser (Julie Walters), wishing to improve herself by continuing her education, finds a tutor in jaded professor (Michael Caine), who’s reinvigorated by her. In a reverse of the pattern, as quickly as she changes under his tutelage he resents the “educated” Rita and wants her, selfishly, to stay as she was.

Alvin Johnson (Nick Cannon), in 2003’s Love Don’t Cost a Thing, a remake of Can’t Buy Me Love (1987), comes to the rescue of Paris (Christina Milian) when she wrecks her mother’s Cadillac and can’t pay the $1,500 for the repair. Alvin fronts the cash with his savings and, in return, Paris has to pretend to be his girlfriend for two weeks; Alvin becomes “cool” for the first time in his life, but learns that the price of popularity is higher than he bargained for. In She’s All That (1999), the pattern is reversed as Freddie Prinze, Jr., is a high school hotttie who bets a classmate he can turn nerdy Rachel Leigh Cook into a prom queen but, of course, runs into trouble when he falls in love with his creation. In The Princess Diaries (2001), Mia (Anne Hathaway), a gawky Bay Area teen, learns her father was the prince of Genovia; the queen (Julie Andrews) hopes her granddaughter will take her father’s rightful place as heir, and transforms her from a social misfit into a regal lady but discover their growing love for each other is more important than the throne.

Pretty Woman (1990) is my second favorite example of the tirelessness of the Pygmalion myth. Taking the flower-girl motif of My Fair Lady to the extreme, Vivian (Julia Roberts) is a prostitute (albeit idealized) and Edward (Richard Gere) a ruthless businessman with no time for real love. As he opens his credit cards on a Rodeo Drive shopping spree, we experience a telescoped transformation-by-money accompanied with the upbeat music that reminds us that we love this highly escapist part of the Pygmalion story, the actual process of turning ugly duckling into princess swan.

My favorite example is La Femme Nikita (remade as Point of No Return, 1993, with Bridget Fonda), because it shows the versatility of mythic structure, taking Pygmalion to the darkest place imaginable as it fashions of street druggie Nikita (Anne Parillaud), under Bob’s merciless tutelage (Tcheky Karyo), a chameleon-like lethal sophisticate whose heart of gold allows her to escape both her unformed past and her darkly re-formed present.

So popular is the Pygmalion myth with audiences that it crops up in the most unlikely places. In Pao zhi nu peng you (My Dream Girl, 2003), Shanghai slum-dweller Cheung Ling (Vicki Zhao) is thrust into high society when she encounters her long-lost father, who hires Joe Lam to makeover his daughter to fit her new status. In Million-Dollar Baby (2004), the unformed matter (Hilary Swank) reports for duty and demands to be transformed. Instead of falling in love, the boxing instructor (Clint Eastwood) is reborn, reinvigorated, re-inspired, learns to feel again—thereby revealing the underlying emotion that drives the Pygmalion myth for both protagonist and the character he reshapes: rebirth into a more ideal state of being.


First published in Produced By, the official magazine of the Producers Guild of America

Most Important Lesson Every Screenwriter Should Learn: Don't Wait

 Every project has its own clock!

~ Ken Atchity




In 2015 I, and my dear producing partner Norman Stephens, produced a sweet little Christmas movie called Angels in the Snow for UPnetwork. I had only been trying to get that movie produced for twenty years! I sold it to TNT once and came close to a deal at Hallmark another time. My client Steve Alten’s Meg after twenty-two years, finally premiered in 2018. What was I doing for the last twenty years? Not Waiting!

How to Design Your Novel For Film Adaptation



Mid-career novelists seeking representation complain that none of their books have been made into films. At any given moment, we in Los Angeles have literally stacks of novels from New York publishers on our desks. Going through them to find the ones that might make motion pictures or television movies, we—and other producers, managers, and agents—are constantly running into the same problems.

If you regard your writing career as a business, you should be planning your novel at the drawing board to make it appealing to filmmakers. Here's how.

Common Problems in Novel-To-Film Adaptation

  • “There’s no third act…it just trickles out.”
  • “There are way too many characters and it’s not clear till page 200 who the protagonist is.”
  • “I can’t relate to anyone in the book.”
  • “At the end, the antagonist lays out the entire plot to the protagonist.”
  • “There’s not enough action.” Not just action but dramatic action.
  • “There’s nothing new here. This concept has been used to death.”/“We don’t know who to root for.”
  • “The whole thing is overly contrived.”
  • “There’s no dialogue, so we don’t know what the character sounds like.”
  • “There’s no high concept here or a new way into a familiar concept. How do we pitch this?”
  • “There’s no real pacing.”
  • “The protagonist is reactive instead of proactive.”
  • “At the end of the day, I have no idea what this story is ”
  • “The main character is 80, and speaks only Latvian.”
  • “There are no set pieces.”

Of course anyone with the mind of a researcher can list a film or two that got made despite one of these objections. But for novelists who are frustrated at not getting their books made into films that should be small consolation and is, practically speaking, a futile observation. Yes, you might get lucky and find a famous Bulgarian director, who’s fascinated with the angst of octogenarians, studied pacing with John Sales or Jim Jarmusch, and loves ambiguous endings.

But if you regard your career as a business instead of a quixotic crusade, you should be planning your novel at the drawing board to make it appealing to filmmakers.

Characters

Characters are the most important element of the story and should generate the action, the setting, and the point of view. Your job as a writer is to give us insight into each and every character in your story, no matter how evil or virtuous his or her actions may be. Characters are the heart of the drama.

  1. Give us a strong protagonist whose motivation and mission shape the action and who, good or bad, is eminently relatable—and who’s in the “star age range” of 35-50 (where at any given moment twenty male stars reside, and maybe ten female stars; a star being a name that can set up the film by his attachment to it).
  2. Make sure a dramatist looking at your book will clearly see three well-defined acts: act one (the setup), act two (rhythmic development, rising and falling action), and act three (climax leading to conclusive ending).
  3. Express your character’s personality in dialogue that distinguishes him, and makes him a role a star would die to play.
  4. Make sure your story has a clear-cut dramatic premise, e.g., unbridled ambition leads to self-destruction or you can’t go home again.

Have someone in the film industry read your synopsis or treatment before you commit to writing the novel.

Revise accordingly.


Though I’ve observed the phenomena for several decades now, it still surprises me that even bestselling novelists, even the ones who complain that no one has made a film from their books yet, don’t write novels dramatic enough to lend themselves easily to mainstream film. It’s a well-known, but lamentable, phenomenon in publishing that, with very few exceptions, the more books a novelist sells the less critical his publisher’s editors are of his work. So time and again we read novels that start out well, roar along to the halfway point, then peter off into the bogs of continuous character development or action resolution.

A publisher invests between $25,000 and $100,000 or more in publishing your novel. A low-budget feature film from a major Hollywood studio today costs at least $50 million. There is, from a business point of view, no comparison. Risking $50 million means the critical factor is raised as high as can be imagined when your book hits the “story department”—much higher than the critical factor of even the biggest publishers. Hollywood studies what audiences want by keeping track, in box office dollars, cents, and surveys–what they respond best to.

If you want to add film to your profit centers as a novelist, it would behoove you to study what makes films work. Disdaining Hollywood may be a fashionable defense for writers who haven’t gotten either rich or famous from it, but it’s not productive in furthering your cinematic career or building your retirement fund.


via Writer's Digest



Brian A. Klems is the editor of this blog, online editor of Writer’s Digest and author of the popular gift book
Oh Boy, You’re Having a Girl: A Dad’s Survival Guide to Raising Daughters.
Follow Brian on Twitter: @BrianKlems
Sign up for Brian’s free Writer’s Digest eNewsletter: WD Newsletter
Listen to Brian on: The Writer’s Market Podcast



WHAT IS A STORY?

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