What is the biggest difference between a book and a movie? One might point out the obvious fact that one watches a movie and reads a book. One might also mention the fact that popcorn when reading a book tends to be cheaper than popcorn at a movie theater. The most important difference is in the profit margins. Movies make much, much more money than books.The Avengers: Age of Ultron has passed one billion dollars. The Amazing Spiderman as well promises to break that mark. Not all movies, even those with huge special effects budgets, make money. John Carter, based on the Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs was a loss for Disney. (This is unfortunate as the third book in the Barsoom series is truly the best. We must be content to read The Gods of Mars, The Warlord of Mars, and Thuvia, Maid of Mars as well as the later books.)
Unlike movies, money made by authors is measured in success of all the author's works rather than success in a single piece as with movies. Even the seven books of J. K. Rowling's hugely successful Harry Potter series made only $361 million dollars.
(In case you were wondering, the movies made $7.7 billion dollars.) This makes J. K. Rowling, millionaire, the most successful author in history. Assuming success is measured in dollar amounts. Those of us lucky enough to focus on the art might measure success differently--unless we win the New York Times Bestselling lottery of course.
Of course, volume isn't always the answer. James Patterson, according to ThisIsMoney, is the third biggest selling author of all time, having made about $160 million dollars. That money comes from 147 novels, of which 114, or two-thirds, were on the bestseller list. By contrast, Along Came a Spider (2001) staring Morgan Freeman made more than $80 million ($20 million profit). Kiss the Girls (1997): about $70 million (almost $40 million profit). However, Alex Cross (2012), the disappointing film starring Tyler Perry, only barely covered its budget. Sadly (with sarcasm), that film only made about $35 million. Profit alone from two movies based on James Patterson's books nearly equaled the total income from the author inspiring them.
In a fun fact sure to discourage the hopeful fiction author, the second most profitable author in history is chef Jamie Oliver. However, authors make money from selling film rights, so we can take solace in the fact that we are unlikely to see film rights sold to any of his cookbooks. Of course, taking restaurant and television show profits into account, we may have chosen the wrong career.
Show Your Money Maker
We could blame film makers for their capitalism. It certainly is the easiest answer. Novels are complex arrangements of words forming a careful balance between plot and story (or in the Russian formalist school, fabula and szjuhet) with subplots and twists. This does not account for the success of certain young adult novels of multiple movie credits which are neither complex nor novels. (I'll allow you a second to get something to stifle your hunger while you come up with a sparkly answer for what path I have chosen if it will help you catch my blatant hints.)
Movies by contrast are one and a half to three hours of straight story, little complex plot or subplot, and usually lots of special effects. In fact, Stephen Spielberg openly said that he felt even he had used too many novelty effects and lost the story on many of his biggest movies. (E.T., a movie about an alien trying to make a phone call, comes to mind as heavy on effect, short on actual story and plot.) On the other hand, movies make far more than books. Is it because they are shorter? Is it because you can get over priced snacks with them? Is it the special features included in the second disc no one ever watches? I have a simpler answer.
Movies don't tell us anything. I mean that in a literal literary sense. Occasionally, we need a narrator to introduce facts. These movies are often weak. One notable exception is Stand By Me, because Richard Dreyfus' voice over introduces us to important facts that add to character.
If you've ever had a writing instructor, you've heard this advice before. Don't tell, show. Use active verbs to show movement rather than tell me something happened. Paint a picture. Describe clothing, attitude, anything other than hitting the reader in the head with facts.
NOT: "He was old and poor, but he had a smile on his face. He was happy to take may spare change."
BUT: "The holes in his clothes reminded me of the afghan I had as a child. It didn't keep me warm, but maybe the layers of soiled afghans he wore were the key. He had not cut his beard since the roots turned to grey. The hairs looked like core samples from ice, slowly turning to soil. If he wore shoes, they were obscured by newspaper and twine. Where could he have gotten twine? He certainly did not buy it. Somehow, although yellow, he managed to show every one of his teeth to me, smiling even to the sunburned, deep crows feet at the corners of his eyes. That spare change had done nothing but bother me all day with its incessant metronome of my steps; apparently, forty-seven cents and pocket lint was the price of true happiness."
Movies by contrast are one and a half to three hours of straight story, little complex plot or subplot, and usually lots of special effects. In fact, Stephen Spielberg openly said that he felt even he had used too many novelty effects and lost the story on many of his biggest movies. (E.T., a movie about an alien trying to make a phone call, comes to mind as heavy on effect, short on actual story and plot.) On the other hand, movies make far more than books. Is it because they are shorter? Is it because you can get over priced snacks with them? Is it the special features included in the second disc no one ever watches? I have a simpler answer.
Movies don't tell us anything. I mean that in a literal literary sense. Occasionally, we need a narrator to introduce facts. These movies are often weak. One notable exception is Stand By Me, because Richard Dreyfus' voice over introduces us to important facts that add to character.
If you've ever had a writing instructor, you've heard this advice before. Don't tell, show. Use active verbs to show movement rather than tell me something happened. Paint a picture. Describe clothing, attitude, anything other than hitting the reader in the head with facts.
NOT: "He was old and poor, but he had a smile on his face. He was happy to take may spare change."
BUT: "The holes in his clothes reminded me of the afghan I had as a child. It didn't keep me warm, but maybe the layers of soiled afghans he wore were the key. He had not cut his beard since the roots turned to grey. The hairs looked like core samples from ice, slowly turning to soil. If he wore shoes, they were obscured by newspaper and twine. Where could he have gotten twine? He certainly did not buy it. Somehow, although yellow, he managed to show every one of his teeth to me, smiling even to the sunburned, deep crows feet at the corners of his eyes. That spare change had done nothing but bother me all day with its incessant metronome of my steps; apparently, forty-seven cents and pocket lint was the price of true happiness."
Filmize Your Story
This week, I wasted two hours rewriting one of my short stories as a screenplay. I say wasted because I realized after I finished my bout of writing fever that I could not turn it in for credit for my screenwriting class because, well, TurnItIn would say I plagiarized it. Technically, it was mine to plagiarize. I suppose it also technically counts as plagiarism.
On the other hand, time lost was not time wasted. Every step along the way forced me to think not in terms of what I needed to tell the reader, but what I needed to show the reader. At the end, I saw the vivid details of my story for the first time.
Readers watch movies too. Readers are every bit as visual as moviegoers. Look at how our brains are built. Nearly a third of your cerebrum processes visual input. God, Evolution, or Other designed the brain in such a way that if we face danger, we are more likely to be lobotomized than go blind. Visual stimulus is so important we even invent it when our brains are interpreting memories of the day. Stimulate your readers' visual cortex through images.
Here are several ways rewriting your story as a short script or even as a film treatment can help you visualize your story.
- Character descriptions. In screenplays, you may find items listed as important you never considered when watching the movie. Your brain registers it, but we don't need to be told what kind of person the character is. We are shown through actions and clothing. Here is an example from I Am Legend II treatment:
BEN CORTMAN, early thirties. Deep, soulful eyes. Tall, brooding. Years on the road have left him a shell of a man. He dreams of nothing, fears nothing. Whatever feelings Ben has left, he saves for--
Ben's eyes are important, but how many novelists think to mention this? We must think of how our characters would look if they stood before us. Kathy Bates did so well as Annie Wilkes in Misery precisely for this reason; Stephen King gave us a perfect visual picture of her.
VIRGE MORGAN, just over twenty. Fragile, sensitive and absolutely terrified. But hope keeps her going, as will be proven once and again. - Dialogue. Again citing Stephen King from On Writing, distrust dialogue tags. In a screenplay, the name of the character appears followed below by what he or she said. There is no, "Joe said sarcastically." As a general rule, actors take offense at these types of parenthetical notes. (This doesn't always work out of course. There are several misread lines in The Matrix such as Cypher saying, "The image translator works for the Construct" instead of what he was clearly supposed to say, "The image translator works for the Construct" or Agent Smith saying "I'm a Smith. Agent Smith" rather "I'm... ah... Smith. Agent Smith.")
The point is, there are no adverbs telling us how the actor/character means this. We must show the actor and they will do it. If our stories are strong enough, we need do nothing more than note who is speaking. - Setting and place. What the story says is just as important as where it happens. Scripts must give details of where this is happening. These items often tell more of the story through plotting. Imagine if the main character in Gone Girl had come out and said, "Things are falling apart in our marriage." Okay, maybe it would have solved some problems. Instead, the script informs us:
A carved faux-marble entry—reading FOREST GLEN—ushers us into a ruined HOUSING DEVELOPMENT. Mostly VACANT houses. A few Fourth of July decorations hang in windows. A weird, BUCOLIC air: swaying grasses, stray wildlife.
Wow! That sums up the movie in a setting. Beauty to they eyes, but neglect of the minor things causing decay. We should use these same purposeful settings in our fiction. - Action. Though we may hear two characters say "I love you," we won't believe it until we see it. A screenwriter cannot tell us that emotion swelled in her heart as she said the words.... But somehow, we still get it. Cold Mountain uses words rather than action, but it is the Nicole Kidman spontaneously repeating, "I marry you, I marry you, I marry you..." that tells us, the viewers how much her heart swells with love. Here's another example.
CONNIE CORLEONE, the Bride, is pressing the bodice of her overly-fluffy white gown against the groom, CARLO RIZZI. He is bronzed, with curly blondish hair and lovely dimples. She absolutely adores him and can barely take her eyes from him long enough to thank the various GUESTS for the white envelopes they are putting into the large white purse she holds. In fact, if we watch carefully, we can see that one of her hands is slid under his jacket, and into his shirt, where she is provocatively rubbing the hair on his chest. CARLO, on the other hand, has his blue eyes trained on the bulging envelopes, and is trying to guess how much cash the things hold.
Here we see how much Connie loves Carlo and how important appearance is to Carlo. We also realize that, although not poor, he is not a rich man. Or, he wasn't anyway.
Honestly, you could take just about any scene from The Godfather or any of the sequels and find examples of where action makes the story.
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