I have a glass jar on my desk. It was at one point a jelly jar, but now it holds an assortment of fasteners, screws, nails, and washers. If I open it up and take a whiff, you can still smell some strawberry, almost like the instruments are scented.
All the pieces come from old furniture, electronics, or picture frames that are no longer used or are broken, or else they were extras (IKEA likes to do that).
The lid is that picnic blanket gingham pattern, red and white, and can be clicked if you press down on it.
While I do on occasion use the nails and screws that the jar holds, those moments probably only come up once or twice a year, but the jar is still allowed the valuable real-estate of my desk.
I like to look at it, and if I ever do need them, they’re close at hand.
I’m noticing that on projects that I am struggling to get finished, that have good pieces to them but sort of taper off into loose ends, the best thing that I can do is pull out the scissors and get to cutting.
“Arrakis teaches the attitude of the knife – chopping off what’s incomplete and saying: ‘Now, it’s complete because it’s ended here.‘“
~ Dune by Frank Herbert
The parts that are half-finished, that open up entirely different directions that could go anywhere… cut them off. They won’t get done, so shave off the edges and set the border.
Noticing when you are drifting from the focus of the project, and realigning.
This was a little mini project I put together. It’s a pamphlet adventure for an ambiguous Western table top game. It took about a little more than a week to finish and I wanted to dissect how I did it because I think this might help me understand how to work on a larger scale.
The project took ten days to put together. Looking at the document’s history, it looks like I spent about seven hours online. Of course I did a little bit of thinking outside of the computer, but most of it was done while at the keyboard.
It was touch and go. A little work here, a little work there and it turned out alright. I dig it. It’s a nice little project and I’m glad that it’s finished.
Here’s how I did it:
I had written down the prompt sometime last year and thought that now was the time to use it. I had no idea what the monster might be or what the cause of the problem might be, all I knew was that it took place on a ranch and what the title was.
The first thing I worked on was the cover. I decided on the font, the style, the picture… that kind of stuff. I did a few tests but wound up with this design choice pretty early on. It’s simple and I think that’s what I liked.
I’m fairly familiar with what goes into these types of module pamphlets, so I was able to come up with a couple of section headers that I knew I’d need to include. I was using Motherships’ The Haunting of Ypsilon-14and Gromb’s Canned Heat as references for what information is standard.
I knew that these were likely going to show up in some shape or form:
The Monster: What is causing the havoc?
The Ranch: What is the location that the adventure is taking place at?
The Issue: What is a short paragraph summary of what is going on?
Knowing that having a few interesting NPCs would be smart to add, I came up with a feuding neighbor type of idea. I wrote down a family name, came up with some details as to who they could be, and ended up making them the heart of the situation. I find this a little odd in hindsight as they were never a part of the initial idea I had come up with, they just organically worked their way into things. I didn’t spend much time, if any time really, thinking of other potential avenues, I just rolled with the first thing that came into my head.
If I had stopped to think about it I’m pretty sure that the project would have ended there. By opening up the potential for many different avenues I’m sure that I would have been struck with decision paralysis and would never have continued. Luckily I didn’t let this happen.
Things followed one another. As I laid out the NPCs and what they had done, everything else was pretty self explanatory.
Everything had to fit on one piece of paper and had to adhere to the guidelines laid out by the format, this created a limitation which was also a boon. By not having infinite space I was forced to make decisions about cutting away content rather than adding content. If it didn’t fit on the page it was deleted.
I also did all of my writing in document. I know that this is not something recommended by graphic designers as it can result in the formatting having to constantly change, but it worked for me. The design was simple enough that this did not get tedious.
The only thing that was particularly difficult to think up was the list of items. Unlike the story elements that the rest of the document consists of which build off of one another, these items start and stop with each entry. The last item does not inform the next one so you are forced to think long and hard about what an interesting item could be.
This was a nice short term project. It didn’t require long hours of thinking each day, I could jump in and out when I felt like it. I did not work on it every day for the ten-day period, there was a day or two that I skipped and this was fine. I came back to it because it was fun to work on and it felt like I was getting some work done. There was never a time that I just sat and stared at the document, I always did at least a little bit of typing.
Takeaways:
Before beginning with the content and design, decide on the format. For an RPG: is it a pamphlet, a one-pager, a twelve-page zine? What are the formats for your medium?
Understand what needs to be included. For a scenario like this, you’ll need a section to explain the situation, describe the location, and to flesh out the monster/antagonist. What are the things that need to be touched on for your project?
Think Less. If you allow yourself to over think something, your project is going to fall apart. Don’t spend too much time looking at the different avenues, just get started.
I rewatched Fargo a few days ago. Oddly I’ve seen it quite a few times in the last year and a half, it’s got a bit of a hold on me. There’s something about how it’s presented that feels so specific, so crafted.
Every cut has a purpose. There is no time wasted, no shot wasted, no line of dialogue wasted. It is minimal in the best way possible. Rather than excluding information to maintain a minimalist approach, it somehow compresses information so as to appear streamlined.
Lines and framing have dual purposes, characters mirror one another, the fades to black make scenes feel definitive and you are aware of when they are over. Everything feels so sectioned, it’s really bizarre.
I was thinking about stories that tell themselves today. The type that are so ingrained in pop-culture, through genres or goals, that they’ve become templates.
Revenge stories and heists come to mind.
Their plots both make sense and I can imagine their beats without having to think too hard.
This doesn’t make them predictable per say, it doesn’t make them bland either, plenty of storytellers twist these “tropes” in new and interesting ways while still following their rules.
Though I sometimes fall away from it, maybe for a few months at a time, I always come back to it. It’s a major activity in my life and I firmly expect it to stay that way.
It’s my way of clearing my head.
It’s not for thinking, walking is for thinking. Running is for emptying it out when it feels like my head is going to pop out of frustration. When it feels like any idea I come up with has no substance and that all I’m doing is bashing it against a brick wall.
If I don’t recognize this feeling, I spiral. If I do, I know that I need to go for a run.
I’m not a particularly long distance runner. The most I’ve done is six miles in one sitting, usually it’s just three.
But just the movement, the speed, the sweat, and the beating of my heart… it resets me and therefore I can keep going.
I was reading this article on why running does this, really any intense aerobic activity, and it’s pretty interesting.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go for a run.
This was a little improvised film that my buddy and I put together. I’d like to talk a bit about how we did it, because it worked out great and I plan on doing it again.
Sometimes the NEED for a detailed script can be a roadblock, sometimes it pays to just run with what you’ve got.
My pal mentioned that he wanted to film something at a basketball court so we thought up a couple of ideas for a conflict. He mentioned that he had a basketball in his car and it made us think of Tom Hanks in Castaway befriending the volleyball. We liked this and felt it was enough so it became the driving force.
Grabbing minimal equipment, I attached my boom to the top of my DSLR and called it a day, we were on our way.
The lights at the court were alright but not great so we decided to lean into the grittiness and grain of the picture.
Without ever really talking about the story we just jumped right in. Quickly the bit became never making the shot, which made the ending obvious. Knowing this helped us figure out how to get through the middle.
We had a handful of shots that we wanted to get specifically, but for the most part things were done on the fly.
We had to work quickly as the lights at the court would go out at 9 each night, our first night was cut short, but this helped us make faster decisions. There was no room for putzing about.
We filmed for a total of three-hours over a period of two-days.
Editing took about a month, but not cause we were dragging our heels. There was the challenge of reverse engineering the story, but that wasn’t a pain. It was tough, but it was good work. Not the kind that makes you wanna smash your desk in two.
And that’s what we did. We moved fast, didn’t let ourselves overthink things, and put it together.
This was a great exercise and I really do plan on doing it more. It helps to have actors that are comfortable with improv and that understand time limits, story structure, and how films are edited.
Going forward, here are my plans for future improv shorts:
Pick a location that’s outside of the house while also not that far away.
I liked going on location. It made things feel a little more professional than if we’d done it at the apartment.
It also had the element of being an unfamiliar territory, which I think allowed me to be more curious with my photography.
Have a time limit for your shooting.
Only being able to shoot till 9 each night really lit a fire under our butts. We worked quickly and made decisions quickly because of it.
Maybe schedule shooting a couple of hours before you have to go to work so that you know what the hard deadline is.
This also helps with not letting the project overstay its welcome. Being an improvised film, it has the potential to never end. Don’t let this happen.
What kind of conversation is occurring?
I think this type of project works best in one of two formats.
A: A conversation between two characters. Very classical. Just have two actors converse on something and have that be the information of the piece.
B: A conversation done through action. Brickhead does this. The conversation is the action of playing basketball. Sure there is some dialogue, but a lot of information is conveyed through the action.
Both of these work great, but for a mini, low-budget short film I’d say stick to one.
It’s a fun thing.
Go with the punches. If something isn’t working, let it go. If something presents itself, follow it.
