Writing isn’t just one thing, it’s a whole bunch of processes. You need to nail them all in order to produce a script that sizzles.

First, there’s the matter of getting your basic concept right. One way to go about this is to come up with a 25 word pitch, or a poster design. Here is the core of what you are putting together in order to persuade an audience to give up a night doing whatever they generally prefer to spend some time gawping at your brainchild. It needs to tantalise with a mix of the familiar and the exotic, reminding them of something they remember fondly while promising an element of novelty.

Next, you have to be able to plan a story that will entice an audience to follow its twists and turns for 90 minutes or more. That takes some doing, especially in that tricky second act. In which case using a structural model that doesn’t acknowledge a second act can help. John Truby’s system has 22 elements, and in his deconstruction of Russian folk tales, Vladimir Propp noted that stories featured up to 31 parts. Find something that works for you and the genre of story you’re relating.

It’s interesting that in doing the planning of a story it’s possible to do so while staying dissociated from the characters. Some people prefer to be utterly engrossed in their characters from the earliest stage, but personally I find that this can detract from telling a story, which is what the character exists in relation to. And human psychology being what it is, once you’re inside the story and know what route the character has to take, it’s easy enough to find justification for any course of action that happens: people do the strangest stuff, and for reasons that make sense to them if noone else.

I’m reminded of the recent terrifying tale of a woman who died as a result of her road rage: she was so angry at the vehicle she’d targeted, and its driver, that she refused help offered while her car was in flames. A glance at the day’s papers, or a reflection on some of the more curious behaviours you’ve seen people get involved with, will confirm the undeniable fact that people do indeed do weird shit for no apparent reason. Getting them to do whatever’s required for your film to work really isn’t that hard.

The actual writing of the script is where all that character empathy and dialogue skill comes into its own. Up until now the characters have more or less been puppets. Now it’s time for them to live and breathe. And, contra the previous paragraph, that may involve some changes between what you’d anticipated happening and what actually does transpire: we’re in that mysterious part of the process where characters can seemingly come to life for us, and tell us how they think and feel, including the fact that they want to do something other than what we first had in mind for them.

First draft is all very well…but that’s the start of the process. Now comes the business of soliciting feedback from people whose opinion makes some kind of sense. Please note that this does not include the type of acquaintances who are pleased that you’ve written anything at all. Finding discerning and honest feedback is a task of its own. People who can provide it are to be treasured. If necessary, pay for script reports from people who seem as if they may know what they’re doing. You’ll find some online, for sure, though not necessarily from people billing themselves as providing script reading services. And if you seek the latter, ask for feedback from previous clients: it works in the same sense that some people do while others teach.

Having gathered feedback, you have to decide what to do with it. Some of it will make sense to you. Other parts may go against what you intended in the first place. You’re the ultimate judge. It may well be that with some retooling your sensitive family drama set in 1950s Yorkshire could become a science fiction epic with greater box office potential, but if you’re not a sincere fan of science fiction epics then you’re probably best advised to steer clear of the form.

And so it goes. You’ll reach a point at some stage in all this that you’ll be able to send your script out to industry people, and the same comments apply. If you’re lucky, some of those reading what you’re doing might be interested in meeting you, about existing projects or potential ones they wish to initiate.

At least some of the preceding paragraphs will strike you as common sense. Which is fine. The longer you’ve been playing with this kind of stuff, the more common sense it will appear. But it’s exactly the kind of common sense that I lacked when I was starting out on this road, and if some of what I’ve said strikes a chord with at least a few of you, then this exercise in stating the potentially obvious has been worthwhile.