different scenes, have him show that his heart is weak, and be sure that every one of these scenes serves the double purpose of registering this fact and introducing other important action relevant to the plot.  In other words, make the slight attacks which the man experiences all through the story merely incidental to the scenes in which they occur.  Then when the fatal attack comes, the audience is prepared for it, yet they have not been actually looking forward to it through several scenes.  While speaking of heart disease, we would call the attention of the writer to an observation lately made by the photoplay critic of The Dramatic Mirror:  “Scenario writers notwithstanding, it is exceptional for people to die because an unexpected piece of news shocks them, even when they suffer from weak hearts.  Robust men do not part from life so readily, and film tragedies of this kind generally fail to carry conviction because the facts presented are divorced from the customary laws of nature.”

Do not introduce a new character in one of the late scenes, especially if he or she is importantly connected with the plot, even though you use that character in the picture for only a brief interval.  If the appearance of a certain man in one of the late scenes will help in saving the life of a condemned man, try to plan the entrance of this character into the story in an earlier scene, even though only for a period long enough to establish who and what he is.  In this way you may avoid a long and otherwise unnecessary leader just when you are approaching your climax and thus halt the interest.

6.  Action May Be Too Rapid

If you are writing the scenario of a dramatic plot, it is evident that, within reasonable limits, the more dramatic situations—­the more “punches,” in the vernacular—­you can put into it, the more likely it is to find favor in the eyes of the editor and the producer.  But too many writers, conscious of this fact, make the mistake of forcing the pace.  The solid photoplay of today should not be made to resemble a cheap melodrama, in which something highly sensational is sure to happen every three minutes.  Just because you have seen a sensational episode in a play on the screen, do not attempt to crowd your scenario with minor thrills and sensations, regardless of whether the incident pictured is relevant to the plot.  If your plot is a strong one, its unfolding will suggest scenes of sufficient dramatic quality to hold the interest.  But do not search your brain for startling situations to introduce here, there, and everywhere in the action, paying no attention to whether they have little, if anything, to do with the plot.

Imagination is the writer’s greatest asset, but imagination run riot is photoplay madness.  It must be intelligently exercised else it will fairly run away with the plot, and the result will be a literary wreck.  You must study—­and hence realize at least fairly completely—­the possibilities of your story before you start to write it at all.  Haphazard work will never bring you anything—­in photoplay writing or in any other creative line.