Instinct vs. Index Cards

I recently attended an ALAP Musical Theatre Workshop with writer-composer Mark Saltzman to develop a rock musical murder mystery called Pyroglyphic featuring the music of my good friend Sean Galuszka. Saltzman slavishly advocated the use of index cards to storyboard the narrative of a musical, before ANY writing even begins.

Storyboarding via index cards is a common practice when working with studios (Saltzman also writes screenplays), and is also a tool in Final Draft which many professional playwrights swear by (a $250 program - not in my budget at the moment).

Now, I rarely even outline my plays, so this was a difficult concept. When I wrote my full length, I used Joseph Campbell's "hero's journey" story structure (via Voglers "Writer's Journey"), but applied it after I had already done a draft. In my process, I always make awesome discoveries using the organic method (the "just-keep-writing" approach). This was not just something I discovered, but is also advocated by my other playwriting teachers including Michael Hollinger (one of the most produced playwrights in the country), and Lisa Soland, who is published by Samuel French. That is not to say they are opposed to outlines, but they will definitely tell you to "just write."

Needless to say, I was resistant to using index cards. It seemed to me more about something studios use in pitch meetings where they are telling you how to write your screenplay. As playwrights, we are given exclusive control of the writing, yes? So my playwriting snob was taking over. In preparation for my workshop solo session, I stayed up many late nights and defiantly kept writing, TYPING my storyboard, and came to class exhausted with my printed "storyboard" for everyone, but no index cards. This didn't win me any points with the instructor! And after all that "work," I still had no idea what to do with the 2nd act, because basically it was a whodunnit and I didn't know whodunnit! I was stuck, and I knew it.

Mark pointed out that especially in the case of a murder mystery, you really have to know ahead of time who does what and why. We already knew the victim, as the first act was more defined. But who is the murderer and why does he/she do it? What is the murderers plan? Who is the "detective"? Who are the main suspects? What are the clues? Is there a romance in this story? etc. Armed with a better understanding of what needed to happen in Act II, Sean and I were told we would get another chance to present our full storyboard and songs on the final day of the workshop.

So I broke down and bought some index cards and a cork board. I was still not fully convinced of this approach, but decided for the sake of the workshop, I needed to go with it to see what happens, right? Get over yourself playwriting snob! I also realized, that given his wonderful contributions to every session, (and not just regarding music), Sean was a valuable resource. So I put up a rough version of the board with songs, and then met with Sean. He was great at keeping me focused on the task at hand, which was to figure out the basic plot points and decide where the songs should go. When I started verbally "writing" scenes he'd cut me off with "Details!" Not our concern at the moment. I needed that.

We worked on it over several days, and in that time we had some synchronistic revelations (as in, at the same time, which was both spooky and exhilarating!). We were not fully adhering to all of Marks recommendations (he was big on our using a murder mystery template), and when in doubt we went with our gut. What came out was a modified murder mystery. When we did our final presentation, I had a much better grasp of where the story was going, and how to use this new tool to keep myself on track.

I have since used index cards while developing other plays, and have found them very helpful. But I am still a firm believer in letting the act of writing (what you might call instinct or inspiration) solve many blocks and story problems. If you get too into your left brain, you can lose track of why you set out to write the play in the first place.