Yesterday was…eventful. Almost like condensing my establishing a career in screenwriting into a single day.
Good: somebody actually downloaded DREAMSHIP from the Black List! Nice, especially since it entered double-digit basic views a couple of days ago. Hoping to get a professional review sometime in March.
Not-so-good: a manager who read the script passed, claiming “while I enjoyed the read and did think it was well-written, I just couldn’t get excited enough about it to warrant taking on a new client or project right now.” I’m still not sure exactly how to interpret this, but it still boils down to “thanks, but no thanks.” Oh well. C’est la vie.
(Gotta admit it’s somewhat of a silver lining that just about all of the rejections from those who read the script mentioned how much they liked it. Just not enough to take it to the next step.)
So what now?
Easy. Spend a few moments feeling sorry for myself, put it behind me and soldier on to the category labeled “Promising,” in the form of the overwhelming need to start on pages for the western.
The only way I could feel better was to write. Doesn’t matter if the outline’s not 100 percent. I HAD to do this; not only as a form of catharsis but to feel like I was actually moving ahead and remind myself of the potential awesomeness of this story.
So I did. It was only half a page. Nothing fantastic, but at least it was something.
(just wondering – are you still supposed to write ‘FADE IN’? I’ve heard both yes and no.)
It’s been quite a while since I started a new script. Any writer will reinforce the concept of nothing as intimidating or challenging as a blank white screen, with that little blinking cursor just sitting there, ready to spring into action.
The key is to keep the cursor moving. Which is exactly my plan.
The awesomeness comes later.