Annual reports: Analytics, bests, greatest accomplishments and the power of storytelling

Several years ago when I project managed annual and quinquennial reports for a health sciences university, I experienced the importance of publications such as newsletters and annual reports.

Work on a quinquennial report began and a committee had been formed to reconstruct the organizations's landmark "bests, and greatest accomplishments. Today I'm sure analytics would be an important part of similar conversations.

Due to the project timeline and the need to collect supporting materials (historic photographs to locate and compile, photo shoots to schedule), I gathered administrative newsletters from key entities, copies of campus newspapers, magazines and board minutes and began to document and sort the information they contained, making sure to include projects related to the strategic plan.

At that time the campus still had a printed campus newspaper and it made much of the task easy. Stories of importance to both internal and external entities appeared on the cover, and important institutional milestones were published above the fold. 

New programs, open houses, ribbon cutting events, statistics and awards were organized by month and year due to the constraints of a printed monthly publication. 

I compiled two seven-to-nine-page reports capturing the "bests," "greatest accomplishments" for the growing institution (divided into health care and academic reports), passed them to leadership for approval and was asked, "how did you accomplish this project?" From what i was told, the committee that had been tasked with recalling and collecting the bests & greatest content was in its beginning stages.

I have empathy for communication / marketing / PR departments today. Until the emergence of social media and online communication, there was a cost to capture and share information, including purchasing and developing film, extended timelines for printing newsletters and newspapers, individually faxing, calling or making visits to newspaper offices for each news release. However, the important items could easily be reviewed later because content was physically published for distribution on real paper instead of endless scrolling and / or online searches. 

Also, paths to completion were more easily traced because minor stories that appeared on page nine or 13 eventually moved to more prominent places in the newspaper, showing the history and key players.

Today, so much content is posted so easily to so many platforms including online newsrooms (just keep scrolling, everything appears with the same importance) for so little cost that the real value of information may become muddled. 

The softer side of many annual reports are personal stories. But good storytellers and places and time to develop the craft are not easy to find, even in the entertainment industry. I remember asking several professors at USC why they didn't write books about what they were teaching about writing. Every week after class I would leave the USC campus feeling energized, having gained writing tools that would change how I structured the information I was sharing. I felt energized even though those were long days with some classes beginning at 7:00 p.m. and ending at 10:00 p.m., and this was after I had worked a full work day in the Inland Empire, about an hour away from campus.

To show the value of the work an organization is doing, existing data is often collected, studied and shared internally, with emphasis placed on examine the past, always looking over one's shoulder.

While by their nature annual reports record their success -- a job well done -- by highlighting the past, faith in their ability to move into the future can be woven into the content through storytelling.

After the annual report's theme was chosen a group from departments on campus including marketing, public relations and philanthropy worked together to suggest and choose seven to nine stories to highlight.

As I interviewed the individuals and families who generously offered to share their stories, I asked several questions about how they had experienced the theme of the report for that year. Each feature story included a quote that used the exact word that appeared in writing on the cover, resulting in a beautiful prism highlighting the theme on every page, made stronger because the words were authentic -- real.

The report's theme was further emphasized through storytelling techniques I learned while taking screenwriting and fiction writing courses at USC.

An example is "changing in place."

One annual report feature read as simple as a family's bedtime routine, tucking in their baby at bedtime, but the story uses changing in place to show the deep impact the institution had made on the family.

Their baby had been born with a cleft palate and her doctors needed to wait a year before corrective surgery could be scheduled. Though an alarm had been installed in the baby's bedroom to alert her family if she stopped breathing, her family took turns sitting by her bedside throughout the night, every night for the entire year to make sure she was safe.

"Changing in place" is a literary technique that brings the audience into a space and shares happenings that transpire there before later bringing the character back into the same space. Though the surroundings have not changed it is as if the person is in a completely different space. Changes that have happened internally result in the person experiencing and interacting with his or her old surroundings in a completely new way.

The story begins in the baby's bedroom. The parents read a bedtime story to her as they do every night, singing a lullaby, tucking her in and dimming the lights before settling into a chair beside the baby's crib, protecting her, watching her every breath until morning.

The story then highlights care provided to the family, as told by the family, with a quote that, in their own words, restates the annual report theme.

The story ends in the same place it started, back in the baby's bedroom. It's more than a year later and the surgery has been completed. The little one has a beautiful smile. The parents read her a bedtime story, sing a lullaby, tuck her in. They then turn down the lights and leave the room, confident that she will be safe throughout the night. Changing in place. The family's lives will never be the same.

Simply told with a simple but powerful storytelling technique -- changing in place -- providing humanity and value to the numbers reporting an organization's hard work, projects completed, bests and greatest achievements accomplished.

A lesson shared by a master storyteller

From screenwriting to finance and Instant Pot groups, the number of Facebook groups I follow has grown.

I usually do a quick check of various groups to see what has been posted recently, scrolling past any drama.

A couple of weeks ago I responded to a question from a member of a screenwriting group who had asked for help with dialogue. Writing dialogue was one of the top skills I wrestled with while taking courses at USC in the College of Letters, Arts & Sciences and in the School of Cinematic Arts.

Every moment I spent on the USC campus was so amazing I think I skipped class just once or twice during the six years I attended USC while working full-time and one of those was when I was on a work trip to Africa.

After class at USC I always traveled back to the Inland Empire with at least one amazing gem learned during whatever class I was taking at the time. I took classes from several USC professors more than once, and as I look back I can think of many top things I learned from each of them that they shared only once. That's why I came to class early and often stayed in the classroom during breaks to hear questions students asked the professor during breaks.

An insight that changed how I write came from my friend and mentor, director Irving Kershner. When I shared my struggles writing dialogue with him, he said, "In every scene every character wants something. They may not say a word. What do they do to get it? Now that is interesting."

I posted this quote of Facebook in the responses to the question about how to write dialogue and the thread took off.

As I continue working on a book that I plan to adapt into a screenplay, Kersh's advice is shaping the story. What happens as storytellers follow each character is driven by what the characters want and need, and ultimately what they do; if their words are the most interesting part of the story, the story is not very interesting.

I asked Kersh once why he didn't write a book about storytelling or writing and he said he was much too active to write a book. I learned so much from him and I miss him often as I write.

For all the achievers — and dreamers

Thank you to readers who continue to discover this blog even  though I haven't posted in a long time. That is changing now.

I remember the professor in the business of writing course at USC looking over the full classroom and saying "Of everyone in this class six, maybe eight of you will become full-time screenwriters." The students would complete their master's degrees in a couple of months and our final test was to create a five-year roadmap into the industry. I wonder where they are now? I hope many are happily creating work in their favorite genre but last week I saw in a Vanity Fair article, "Desperately seeking Emmys in the era of peak TV,  more than 450 scripted series debuted in 2016.

Learning how to break through the noise is one of my favorite topics, and I will continue to explore it here. But you can't break through if you have no content!

One of my top personality traits is achiever. According to the Strengthsfinder theory, for achievers, every day starts out at zero, including weekends and holidays. After working for about 16 days straight with just two days off (Memorial Day and last Saturday), I enjoyed taking this past Wednesday through Friday off.

For an achiever this meant taking the car for repairs and an oil change, and sorting through paperwork and laundry that had grown at home over the past three weeks. A few fun things reminded me about what is renewing and wonderful about life: completing a four-mile hike followed by the deliciousness of a drink of water, eating out with friends and taking time to connect with people I met as I ran errands. 

One of my favorite things to do is to walk up to a checkout and think: "I've never met this person before, but before I leave I'm going to make them laugh." This is fun for me because customers are rushing, multitasking or late to another appointment, in the same mindset as I used to be when I worked for a temp agency and was rushing to secretarial jobs in downtown LA during college. Right away a twinkle in the eye, making eye contact changes the dynamics in the brief meeting over the cash register. In future posts I'll write about times I've made someone laugh. When I've been determined to make it happen, I can't remember a time it hasn't worked. This reaffirmed my belief in my ability to create entertaining content that will connect with an audience.

At USC I, too, turned in a 5-year plan to become a screenwriter and only time away from the 8-5 job has renewed my belief that it can happen, while continuing to work in a job that I love.

For achievers, there's no such thing as an overachiever, and using vacation time and planning for work life balance can create a full life.

Index cards to Final Draft: How the octopus created a breakthrough

I've been organizing multiple photo shoots at work, and it's been like playing doubles against several sets opponents simultaneously, on several courts, alone (and I don't play tennis). Tonight I was sleeping when someone connected with one of the shoots texted me after 10:30 to say she had just arrived home.

While trying to get back to sleep I began thinking of a blog post, and decided to write down my thoughts because I couldn't sleep.

When I took advanced motion picture script analysis in USC's School of Cinematic Arts, I knew I needed the class. While I'd completed the USC master of professional writing program with an emphasis in screenwriting, I knew there was more I needed to learn before I could successfully complete a screenplay.

USC allows alumni to return to campus to continue to take courses with departmental approval. Before taking a course in the School of Cinematic Arts, I was required to take beginning screenwriting. I treated it as if I were taking a master class. The teacher was amazing.

I learned many of the lessons in the class, including the importance of understanding and using time in video; better understanding the full palette of tools writers use while creating a screenplay; how to write, in a few words, a description which will cause everyone in the audience to focus on a specific area of the screen.

Screenwriting, done well, is incredibly intricate. A few weeks into the class, I told the teacher, "When I'm screenwriting, I feel like I"m struggling with an octopus." He reassured me the octopus could be tamed and at the end of the class he told me, "You're ready to go for it. You really don't need to take any more classes." But I did.

When I took advanced motion picture script analysis, I attended every session, arriving before class. I even listened to the professor's answers to students' questions during breaks.

The final test was open note/open source, and I took about 10 hours to complete it. I received the nicest note from the professor. He said I'd received a perfect score and that he was using my answers as a key to grade the other students' finals. It has been fun sharing many of the things covered in the final here. At the end of the class finally felt as if I could write a story coded with the elements needed to make those watching the movie lose track of time; suspending reality to feel as if no time has passed while experiencing the story.

I remembered the octopus analogy a few weeks ago as my cowriter and I prepared to go from index card stage to screenplay writing stage.

Every movie I've watched, including the dozens of films I studied while attending USC includes several stories within the main story.

The sub-stories are interesting and are integral to the main story, however their treatment can be uneven -- some end at strange places in the movie and are never mentioned again. Others unfold unevenly. To be satisfying, none of the substories or elements in the film should draw attention to themselves.

The day before we began to write our first screenplay page, I drew an octopus. Then, on each arm I wrote a specific element of the story. Without giving away the plot, these included:

• The protagonist's want
• The protagonist's need
• The conductor's substory
• The love triangle substory
• The protagonist's flaw
• Planting and payoff

Then, my cowriter and I briefly discussed each of the octopus arms. Is the protagonist's flaw shown realistically and strongly enough? Does it appear thoughtfully or have we forgotten it while too much time passes? The protagonist's need, if realized, will transform him. This is the most challenging of all. Transformation is miraculous, and occurs through realization, followed by dozens of small changes in the tiniest increments. Progress is made, interspersed with setbacks which are fought with ferocious determination.

Using the sketch of the octopus to sort through the many details of the story was a breakthrough. In the past trying to write a screenplay felt as if the creature was attacking me as I tried to pry each arm away the others would grab me. However as we talked through how each element and substory unfold throughout the story, the complicated parts became simple.

Before writing "fade in," I will do this with each project. The octopus exists, but it is now tame.

Actor Love -- Writing the first five pages

I prefer spoilers.

Before seeing a movie I like to hear its plot told enthusiastically by someone who has seen it. Then, when I see the movie, I enjoy it earlier.

Screenwriting is condensed, with an enormous amount of information captured in impossibly few words. It's a densely coded language. 

A world is created with the story taking place in a certain time period, sometimes on a specific date. Imagery and music give clues about what the director wants me to feel. Then, the story begins. During the first 10-15 minutes I have to sort out who the characters are, what they want, complex relationships.

Sometimes this is done well but when it's not, it is not enjoyable. If I've heard the story I'm immediately begin to live the story with the actors, in their world. It is magic.

With the best-told stories I'm reassured that people can move from the emptiness of pursuing a goal (want) to realizing what they need. Then change can occur, all within 120 pages.

Change happens so rarely in real life, I believe successful change fascinates people. It's one of the reasons time seems to stop during movies as we watch every detail.

How do actors so realistically portray change when it rarely exists in real life? How do what do they do? I am in awe. It is truly miraculous.

I'm co-writing a screenplay with a friend. We worked on it for weeks before opening a laptop. 

The story begins in a small town. As we talked about each of the characters, they began to come to life. One is too big for the town; the world will one day marvel at his talent; another, who is from a wealthy family, will be content to live there the rest of his life. Another once had dreams of leaving. The protagonist has a flaw that could forever scar a child put under his care. 

We've enjoyed exploring each character and understanding how they see the world. We know when each character's defining moment will arrive. Defining moments are raw, brave, shocking.

We used Post-its and 5x7 cards as we crafted the story. Then, two weeks ago during breaks at work, we began to write the screenplay.

We've written the first five pages with great attention to how we create the world and introduce each character. 

The audience is watching in anticipation. The story begins and they meet a human being, a person, fascinating and like no other. How does each character come to life? What is their routine, and what hints are there about how they will react when their routine changes? 

Rising tension! Motivation! (I can still hear Irvin Kershner shouting those words, he must have said them hundreds of times). "In each scene the characters want something. What do they do to get it? Now that's interesting."

We are creating the scenes to be transparent and revealing. We've worked tirelessly to honor the actors' skill and the audience's time, inquisitiveness, and love of story.

If we're successful, it will be a movie that I would want to see before hearing spoilers. In fact, the movie would be less enjoyable if I knew anything about the storyline before watching it.  

Storytelling -- the character's skills: how a part-time job helped a student get hired by Disney

While I was studying screenwriting/playwrighting and writing fiction at USC, creating believable characters was challenging. 

An early breakthrough came when a student in one of my classes wrote a scene that the professor wasn't satisfied with. He suggested that the she give one of the characters something to do in the scene that was unrelated to the dialogue -- he said that it was called the "actor's business."

About the same time, a man in his mid-30s stopped by the office where I worked to drop off an ad. He wanted to rent a room near the hospital several nights a week so he could study for his boards.

He was dressed in a physician's lab coat and was on a break from his work as a radiology resident.

Though the hospital seal, his department and his name were embroidered on the jacket, something didn't feel right to me. He didn't have the "look" of a physician who had spent endless hours studying. He had the build and demeanor of someone who had spent many hours doing physical labor.

We later became friends, and I asked how he'd entered medicine.

He laughed and said that he had been working as a painter. One day he watched as an older worker placed sparkle on a wall; he completed the task quickly, efficiently and with much skill. For a moment he was envious and then he was depressed. He thought, "I could work for 25 years and I'd match his skill. Is that what I want to do?"

He applied to medical school and was interviewed by a panel of physicians. "They were serious and intimidating," he recalled. "One of them asked why I wanted to go into medicine. I replied that it was because I didn't want to work outside for the rest of my life. The interviewer laughed and said that that was the most honest answer they'd heard all day."

When I asked him how it had been possible for him to switch from painting to medicine so easily, he said that while he was in school his father had always insisted that he take the hardest science and math courses that offered. Skills are learned over time. Including unique skills characters have developed helps make them fascinating.

Finally, as promised, the story about how becoming skilled in a field different from her course of study helped a student win her dream job -- working at Disneyland.

While I worked as a director of marketing and PR, student workers reported to me. I’d post notices all over campus requesting federal work study eligible students, and each time one student would apply and would work in the marketing/PR office until they graduated. They often were not familiar with many of the software programs; they were sometimes scared they would “break” the programs. I’d give them a template and ask them to have fun with it, moving things around, cutting and pasting and asking questions. 

When I gave them an assignment I’d explain the strategy behind it; this saved time because they could then make quite a few decisions themselves which kept projects on time and on track. 

It was so much fun teaching them about PR and media relations. In fact, one student enjoyed it so much that she considered changing from nursing to PR as a profession. An old boss dropped by the office and when he learned this he told her, “Don’t do it! It’s hard work and you will earn much more money as a nurse!”

Awhile ago I noticed perfect photo captions one of the past student workers posted on Facebook. I wrote on her wall, joking that she wrote the best photo captions because of her training in marketing and PR. She immediately wrote back. She said that after having worked as an ER nurse following graduation she applied for a job as a nurse at Disneyland. While the competition was fierce, she learned that she was offered the job over all of the other candidates because of her PR/communication/media relations experience/skill.

Fascinating!

The next post will be about pacing. 
The reality -- This scene and/or sequence is boring. A solution -- what changes can I make to the story so it will make my heart beat faster?

Making characters live and breathe—everyone's got skillz

Even after having taken several graduate writing classes, I struggled with creating real characters. All of the dialogue sounded the same. The writing I did at work was much easier—writing about dentists, students and housekeepers. It was fascinating interviewing and writing about young patients and families who wanted to share their stories.

But creating characters who have never lived or who have lived but who I'd never met seemed unattainable.

One evening at USC I was waiting for feedback from Irvin Kershner about a few pages I'd written about my father's mother. During a break he took me into the hallway. He was holding the pages I'd written, and he was so angry I remember the pages shaking in his hand as he tore into me. "This boy, his mother, his father. They are like no one whoever lived, or who will ever live. You've need to show that and if you can't, you don't have anything. And right now you don't have anything."

The semester would be over in a few days, I was working full-time, and I was certain I'd fail. Even worse, I was afraid I would disappoint him. Every day I woke up before my alarm and rewrote the story. I passed the class and the resulting first-draft screenplay was a finalist in a screenwriting competition.

Another breakthrough came more recently, when the electricity was out in my bathroom and hallway. I'd been stung by a wasp near the fuse box, and the area had become overgrown with mint. My fearless sister visited and became frustrated at the lack of lighting. She found a pole that can be used to prop doors closed, and went out onto the back deck. It was too short to reach the fuse box and so she glanced at it, pulled out a pin, lengthened it and reset the circuit breaker. All of this took less than a minute.

I thought about the pole and how I would've struggled with it, trying to figure out how the pin worked, probably pinching my fingers and then I realized, even within the same family people have unique skills. Sister is a physical therapist and works with walkers, canes, crutches every day. She could've adjusted the aluminum pole blindfolded.

As Kersh often told me, the dialogue is often the least important thing in a scene. "Always listen," he'd say. "Observe. Watch people. People who do this are better writers." He loved doing this himself.

I remember bringing chocolate chip cookies to work. A friend took a bite and told me, "you got skillz." It was the highest compliment he could give.

Notice talents / skills people have. It's what makes every person unique. The skills they have are often why they love what they're doing, or why they hate what they've chosen.

As I write, I consider what skills each character has. As they show their skills they become real, they begin to breath. They show emotion. And I can work with that.