Write Like You’re Wrangling Wild Horses and Burying Bodies
The dysfunctional Duttons of Yellowstone are back for a fifth season, and I’m hooked as a longhorn caught up in a wire fence. Lloyd and the boys will come to my rescue soon enough, but in the meantime, let’s gather ‘round the campfire and talk about writing, the hit western drama, and what they have in common.
Touchpoints. Who hasn’t dreamed of putting on chaps and boots and riding into the Montana sunset? The cowboy persona — modernized, sanitized and abundantly advertised (have you broken in your Tecovas yet?) in Yellowstone — connects with us deeply. In fact, the appeal of both persona and place is a central theme of the series: Out-of-state muckety-mucks drawn to the cow-bell siren of weekend cowboying — and the threat they pose.
Writing is all about finding and tapping into touchpoints. What does your audience value? Dream of? Aspire to? And isn’t it the longing that touches us most deeply? That deep ache that strums like the violin strings of Yellowstone’s haunting theme song. The longing to mend fences, find love, seek adventure, change the course of history — or our own personal trajectory? The best stories and speeches bring us in and carry us along.
(Flawed) Heroes. Good, captivating narratives rely on good guys, bad guys, and characters who embody a mixture of virtue and vice. Heroic hybrids like Beth Dutton, whose filial devotion and vulnerability make her vengeful ways a bit less vile. Or John, whose devotion to land overshadows all else. Even Monica, who hasn’t left a path of destruction (that we know about), annoys us with her saintly self-righteousness. A favorite quote from favorite character Lloyd: “You’re either born a willow or born an oak. That’s all there is to it.” Make your writing a forest that includes both.
Epic Structure. Screenwriting is all about great organization, structure, scenes, and beats — and Yellowstone is a masterclass in plotting a rich and resonant story. There’s a rising crescendo that leads to gun-slinging, God-fearing, gut-wrenching action, followed by tender moments and catch-your-breath reprieves. And the backstory! As the series progresses, we learn more and more about motivation and family secrets: Why John is so fiercely determined to hold on to his ranch. What caused the animosity between Beth and Jamie. Rip’s unquestioning devotion to the Dutton dynasty. In fact, Yellowstone’s origin story is so bountiful that it’s spawned not just one, but two, prequels: 1883 and 1923 — and 6666 is on its way. Moving back and forth in time adds dimension and depth to writing. (Tom) Mixing past, present and future storylines keeps your audience intrigued and attentive. Use all your tenses and tools to connect history to current state … and to a future vision informed by both.
Great Lines and Bunkhouse Language. If you’re writing for business leaders and elected officials (other than Montana’s newly-elected Governor Dutton), you may not get away with the cable-colorful language of Yellowstone. The show has plenty of cowboy cussing, but it’s also full of vibrant, graphic and bleep-free verbiage: Like Beth’s “You are the trailer park. I’m the tornado,” or Rip’s “There are sharks and minnows in this world. If you don’t know which you are, you ain’t a shark,” or Jimmy’s “You ever have a girl look at you, and your whole world just stops?”
Speak as plainly as the ranch hands playing poker in the bunkhouse. Give your speakers and listeners something to hold on to. Phrasing that stays. Language with the power to move and persuade. And then, do as Lloyd says: “Pray like hell and hold on.”
Happy trails and happy writing!
© Lucinda Trew 2022
