Nobody Wants to Read Your Sh*t: Why That Is And What You Can Do About It

by Steven Pressfield

Nobody wants to read your shit. What’s the answer?

1) Streamline your message. Focus it and pare it down to its simplest, clearest, easiest-to-understand form.

2) Make its expression fun. Or sexy or interesting or scary or informative. Make it so compelling that a person would...

3) Apply that to all forms of writing or a...

writing/reading is, above all, a transaction. The reader donates his time and attention, which are supremely valuable commodities. In return, you the writer must give him something worthy of his gift to you.

If you want to write and be recognized, you have to do it yourself.

A concept takes a conventional claim and puts a spin on it. A concept establishes a frame of reference that is greater than the product itself. A concept sets the product in a context that makes the viewer behold the product with fresh eyes—and perceive it in a positive, compelling light.

A concept frames (or, more frequently, re-frames) the issue entirely.

A good concept makes the audience see your product from a very specific, sympathetic point of view and by its logic (or faux logic) renders all other points of view and all competing products moot and impotent.

When you as a writer carry over and apply this mode of thinking to other fields, say the writing of novels or movies or nonfiction, the first question you ask yourself at the start of any project is, “What’s the concept?”

A high-concept movie is a film 1) whose narrative idea can be communicated in ten seconds or less (in other words, the perfect sound bite for an ad or a word-of-mouth recommendation), and 2) as soon as you hear the idea, you can imagine all the cool scenes that are certain to be in the movie (and that you want to see).

I won’t tackle anything until I know the concept.

“Kid, it ain’t stealing if you put a spin on it.”

Problems seeking solutions. This is a very powerful way of thinking about the creative process. Implicit in this point of view is the idea that the answer already exists within the question, that the solution is embedded within the problem. If your job is to find that solution, the first step is to define the problem.

Define the problem and you’re halfway to the solution.

A real writer (or artist or entrepreneur) has something to give. She has lived enough and suffered enough and thought deeply enough about her experience to be able to process it into something that is of value to others, even if only as entertainment.

A fake writer (or artist or entrepreneur) is just trying to draw attention to himself. The word “fake” may be too unkind. Let’s say “young” or “evolving.”

If there is a single principle that is indispensable to structuring any kind of narrative, it is this: Break the piece into three parts—beginning, middle, and end.

a story (whether it’s a movie, a play, a novel, or a piece of nonfiction) is experienced by the reader on the level of the soul. And the soul has a universal structure of narrative receptors.

The soul judges a story’s truth by how closely it comports to the narrative templates that are part of our psyche from birth.

Three-Act Structure + Hero’s Journey = Story.

(Required reading: Joseph Campbell’s The Hero with A Thousand Faces, C.G. Jung’s Two Essays on Analytical Psychology and Symbols of Transformation, and, for the real Movieland nitty-gritty, Christopher Vogler’s The Writer’s Journey.)

If your Climax is not embedded in your Inciting Incident, you don’t have an Inciting Incident.

Keep the villain up front throughout the Second Act.

If you haven’t read Save the Cat! and Save the Cat! Goes to the Movies, get them right away.

A great movie, he believes, should be so basic, so soul-grounded, that it could be understood by a caveman.

To say, “Keep it primal,” is to say, “Tell the story in pictures.”

Start at the end. Begin with the climax, then work backward to the beginning.

Stories work. Tell it to me as a story.

How high should the stakes be in your story? As high as possible. High stakes = high emotional involvement by the audience.

Get your characters in danger as quickly as possible and keep ratcheting up that jeopardy throughout the story.

The more jeopardy to your characters, the more the audience will care and the more involved they will become.

Our characters must, with life-and-death desperation, want or need some Thing or Outcome (stakes).

Then their hold on, or hope for acquiring that Thing or Outcome must be thrust into grave-and-getting-graver peril (jeopardy).

“Thou shalt not take the climax out of the hands of the protagonist.”

WRITE FOR A STAR

The audience wants to see a star.

What makes a role for a star?

1) His or her issues drive the story. Theirs and nobody else’s. Every character in the story revolves around him or her.

2) His desire/issue/objective is (to him, in the context of his world) monumental. The stakes...

3) His passion for this desire/issue/objective is unquenchable. He will pursue it to, as Joe Biden ...

4) At the critical points in the story, his actions or needs (and nobody else’s) dictat...

5) The story ends when his issues are resolve...

Put that kind of role at the center of your story and everything else will fall into place.

The character must undergo a radical change from the start of the film to the finish. She has to have an arc. She must evolve.

How do we write for a star?

We establish a theme that is worthy of a star.

Remember, the protagonist embodies the theme.

The more powerful the theme, the more powerful the starring role...

Don’t be afraid to make your hero suffer. Suffering is drama.