Engaging Your Audience

by Diana Osberg

While doing creative development for an A-list actor, I read hundreds of scripts, most of which were from writers represented by the top talent agencies in Los Angeles. To my surprise, few of the stories were unique, and even fewer engaged me. At the time, I wondered why these screenplays from some of the supposed best writers in the business did not hold my interest. What, specifically, was wrong with these scripts?

At first, I thought that the stories did not connect because they were derivative. I had seen these stories before in some form or another; I had met these characters before, and I was bored. Many of them were stories centered in Los Angeles. Many of them were street stories with drug dealers and undercover detectives, rogue cops with vendettas and women who had something to prove. These stories all felt stale to me, and by the time I finished the scripts I felt as though I had wasted my time.

I thought, “So what?” Why did the writer bother to write this script? Why should my audience want to see this story? Why should they pay $10 to sit in a movie theater and watch this film? Why should they spend the time, not just the money? Why should my boss and the studio want to spend millions of dollars to make this film?

I questioned my reactions to these scripts repeatedly. Why was I bored? Finally, it dawned on me that my boredom was not from the fact that I had read stories like this before. It was not that the stories were derivative. It was something more fundamental than that.

Writer Willa Cather wrote in O Pioneers!, “There are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before.”

So since there are no new stories, then how do we go about telling a story that is not derivative, or rather, how do we tell a story that feels fresh and is engaging? What do we need to do to hold our audience’s attention and make them feel satisfied at the end?

I realized that I was bored with these stories because they were not engaging me emotionally. They were not connecting to the deepest level of human experience, emotion.

As a writer, you are obligated to move your audience emotionally in some way. It is important to build universal themes into your stories—common human experiences that bond us as a species. Emotion is one of the universal elements that define us as human beings. We need to be engaged emotionally in order to care about the protagonist, the hero. We must be able to root for this character in order to stay with him through his journey and feel satisfied at the end of that journey. By the end of our hero’s journey, we must feel changed in some way.

Here are some questions that I always keep in mind when I am reading scripts to consider for production or while writing a script analysis. I hope that they will be helpful to you as you are developing the premise for your next screenplay.

- Who is your audience? What kind of person will enjoy your story?

- What do you want your audience to feel?

- Do you want them to laugh? Is your script a comedy?

- Do you want them to be afraid? Is your script a horror story or a thriller?

- Do you want them to cry? Is your script a drama?

- Do you want them to think or to love?

- Do you want your audience to feel a combination of some of the above?

- How should the audience be changed? Do you want them to learn something or have the best laugh they’ve had in years?

- Is your protagonist likeable?

- Is this character someone your audience can root for? Can they relate to him in some universal way?

- Is your protagonist’s goal worthy?

Remember that your audience is not just the person who goes to the theater. He is also the script reader, the film producer, the actor, the studio executive. Engage them (they’re human, too) and you increase your chances of making a sale.

No Such Word

NSW = No Such Word
by Jay Speyerer

Words are used every day that are found in no standard dictionary. These are the NSWs, or no such words. While the use of these “words” might be fun and creative, there will often be a problem with how they’re perceived by your readers. As noted, some of these examples can be used as substandard dialogue, but never in serious narrative. Other NSWs no doubt exist, but the following list comprises the ones that are most noticeable to these editorial eyes and picky sensibilities.


Acrosst. No, the word is across. Some of us are afraid to end a word with a hiss. We have to chop it off. I hear the word spoken often enough that I include it, but fortunately have never seen it in print unless it’s used in fiction as deliberately substandard dialogue.
Alot. There exists allot, meaning to apportion or dole out; and a lot, an imprecise way to say a whole bunch. But there exists no such word as alot.
Alright. It’s in the dictionary, but it’s considered substandard, so it makes my list. Stick with the two-word phrase, all right?
Ascared. I’m afraid not. The word is scared.
Boughten. Nope, it’s buy, bought, bought. You might be comparing it phonetically to get, got, gotten.
Congradulations. Is this how you say “best wishes” to a graduate? The word is congratulations. Incorrect pronunciation leads to incorrect spelling.
Conversate. You can converse or you can have a conversation. Think of another similar word: Perspiration doesn’t mean you perspirate.
Definately. More a spelling problem than a speaking one, but the correct spelling is definitely not that.
Flustrated. This nonword should perhaps be an actual one, signifying the state of being flustered and frustrated simultaneously. But it isn’t yet.
Heighth. Lose the final h. The word is height. The error is understandable – if not forgivable – because we have such measurement words as width, breadth, and depth, not to mention eighth.
Hisself. Sounds logical, but remember this is English. The word is himself.
Irregardless. This is a nonword that would disappear if its abusers would take a second to consider its supposed meaning. Ir- is a negating prefix, -less a negating suffix. You don’t need both. You might be thinking either of irrespective or regardless.
Mischevious. It’s not mis-CHEE-vee-us, it’s MISS-che-vus, as in mischievous.
Per say. This is an example of phonetic guessing, based perhaps on not having seen the term in writing. Per se is correct and means “by nature” or “in and of itself.”
Pronounciation. I passed a classroom one day and heard a teacher tell her class of future job seekers that, during an interview, correct pronounciation is very important. Wonder how she got her job. Pronunciation is the correct word.
Snuck. The past parochial constrictive of “snack”, as in “I didn’t want to snack before dinner, but since I had already snuck before lunch, I figured what the hell.” Seriously, even though you hear snuck often, the verb forms are sneak, sneaked, sneaked.
Theirselves. Use themselves. Refer to hisself.
Unthaw. Think about it: when you unfreeze a pound of hamburger, you thaw it. So if it unthaws, does it re-freeze? Not only is it ungrammatical, it’s unsafe food handling.
Whala or Viola. It’s voila in French. Pronounced “vwah-LA,” it means, hey, looky there.

I present this list not to vent (though there is satisfaction in that), but to help. Inadvertent use of these NSWs lowers your worth and perceived knowledge in the opinion of your listeners and readers. Whether you’re in the business or personal world, I want you to sound smart.