A Nerd and His Process, Pt. 2

In the last installment, I left you hanging at the beatsheet. (Didn't read the previous installment? Go! Go now! We'll wait for you.) A beatsheet is basically an outline, detailing the major story "beats" in an issue.

Some writers whip out something quick and dirty; others (I've heard) go nuts with detail. I land somewhere between the two extremes. To me, the point is to show your editor what you have in mind, and what will happen on each page. Broad strokes, but with some level of detail that will reassure the editor that, yes, you have thought about this at some length, and you're not just pulling it out of your ass a few minutes before deadline.

I usually break it down into scenes, starting with how many pages I think it'll take. For instance (from my beatsheet for Immortal Iron Fist #19):

[3 pages]

New York City. Now.

Danny suits up into his Iron Fist gear and speeds across the city, leaping over rooftops, through buildings—all of that cool shit.

Danny and Cage meet outside the school. Danny looks down at his fist, which is flickering out. “He’s here.”

And then—

Out of the shadows, dozens of screaming children attack. Danny’s own students. But they’re mesmerized, just like the West Texas townsfolk were mesmerized, and the San Francisco strikers were mesmerized.

It's just a rough idea of what'll happen on those pages. If you've read Iron Fist #19, you'll see that these pages play out differently. That's because when I reached the scripting stage (and revision stage), I let the story open up, and tried to listen to my characters, instead of forcing them into my little beats. But again, at this stage, it's still broad-strokesville.

I'll throw in a little dialogue, just to give my editor a little variety. Dialogue is easy to read; I used to be an editor, and know what it's like to slog through graph after graph of narrative.

My beatsheets tend to be 1,000 words or so, sometimes a little longer. (I just checked the most recent beatsheet I turned in, for Punisher: Frank Castle #69: it was 1,025 words.)

The page counts are my best guesstimate. Sometimes, in the heat of scripting, I'll want to open up an action scene so the artist can go crazy. But again, all the page count does is tell your editor that yeah, you thought about pacing, and here's how you see it playing out.

Interestingly, I don't outline (or beatsheet) my novels. With The Wheelman and Severance Package especially, I was just winging it. Outlining tends to kill the fun for me.

But in comics, I find it essential. (And other comic creators I've met over the past year say the same thing.) I once tried to wing a script without doing a beatsheet, and it was like baking a cake without flour: the thing just fell apart in my hands. Even if I end up changing a lot of what appears in the beatsheet, I still have to go through the process.

Imagine there's a hunk of clay in front of you. You work it until the thing vaguely resembles a human being. Yep, there's the head, the torso, the arms and legs. Got it all in front of you, right? But now it's time for the fine details, to really make this thing look real--the shape of the eyes, the thickness of the fingers, the muscles of the legs. The things that will make people stop and enjoy your work.

Well, consider the beatsheet to be the vague human shape. The next part, of course, is the scriptwriting, which we'll hit in the next installment. Check back soon...

A Nerd and His Process, Pt. 1

Yesterday I asked if readers would be interested in seeing regular posts with "DVD extra-style" commentary/annotation for the comics I write. I was very surprised by the reaction. (I would have been happy with a single "meh, whatever, loser.") So look for my first, on Immortal Iron Fist #19, in a few days.

But I thought it would be smart to kick things off by answering a question that "Marty" posted in the comments yesterday:

Please also--if possible--talk a little about what it takes to plan out and write a comic.

You got it, Marty. (Feel free to stop reading if I start putting you all to sleep.) But let start with a caveat: this just one guy's process, not The Process. I'm still very new at this comic scripting thing. I've been doing it for about a year and a half now, and if my math is right, I've just started working on my 30th script. So yeah... still kind of green.

But this is what works for me, and if makes any sense to you guys, all the better.

Every issue starts with a pitch. If I'm invited to pitch a one-shot issue, I'll usually give the editor three or four ideas, no more than a paragraph each. For example, here the pitch I sent Axel Alonso for a Punisher Max one-shot. It would eventually be published as "Force of Nature," but at the time (March 2007) I was calling it "Wrecked":

The Punisher: Wrecked
Three Jersey wiseguys decide to go casting for bluefish off Wildwood Crest. A few miles out, both engines sputter… and stop. Their communication gear is fucked, too. They immediately know what happened: the goddamned Punisher. Water fills the boat. They set up a life raft. A storm front moves in. We spent the next 30 pages with these poor bastards, fighting for survival on the open water, accusing each other of selling them out to Frank Castle, unearthing some long-buried grudges, watching them die… until we hit a twist ending not even the Punisher could have called.

I tried to set up the story as quickly as possible ending with a little tease that, if it did its job, would have Axel calling to ask: "So... what's the twist ending?" (Note: at the time of the pitch, I didn't have one. But I made sure I did by the time Axel called.)

If it's a story arc, I'll do a much longer synopsis, maybe two to three pages, detailing the major plot points, giving a feel for the characters and what they're up against. But since I live in Philadelphia, just a quick train ride away from NYC, I try to visit the Marvel office to pitch to Axel or Warren Simons (my Iron Fist editor) in person. Not to sell them hard on the thing, or ply them with booze (though that helps), but to let the idea breathe a bit, and give us the opportunity to kick the tires. Sometimes a stray thought from Axel or Warren will take root in my mind, then blossom on the train ride home. Sometimes they'll point out the serious logic flaws, saving me a lot of future grief. And sometimes... just sometimes... I'll nail it in one line, and see their eyes light up, and boom, that's all the encouragement I need. That happened most recently with an upcoming Iron Fist story arc:

Me: "You know the Eighth City? Well, it's actually [REDACTED]."

Warren: "Dude! Go write it."

This step in the process can be that quick... or it can take several weeks of back and forth and fine-tuning and rethinking and all of that fun stuff. When it's finally approved, it comes time for the second major step: the beatsheet.

And more about that in part 2, coming soon...