This is feedback?

I'M LOUD, WHICH MEANS I'M RIGHT!
I’M LOUD, WHICH MEANS I’M RIGHT!

Oh, the hell and agony I must endure so as to spare you, my loyal reader, from hopefully having to experience the same thing.

Once again, your humble author has been savaged by the sharp knives of online criticism. This time around, it was regarding the logline for my mystery-comedy.

Perhaps I’d been lulled into a sense of false security by recently receiving positive feedback on it from other sources. Feeling buoyed by those encouraging comments, I posted the logline somewhere else. Even though I like how it currently reads, that doesn’t mean it can’t still be improved.

Ever notice that a lot of online forums are usually organized with the intention/suggestion/guideline that participants “offer up helpful advice” to those seeking it? More on that in a minute.

There was one positive response, which was quickly shoved aside by one of a more…negative nature.

Among the highlights:

“…probably one of the worst concepts I’ve ever heard.” (*Ahem* PIXELS?)

“Maybe if it was written for 5-year-olds…” (because that hasn’t worked for Disney)

“That’s how hokey your entire concept comes across as. Sorry, but I think it’s truly dreadful. (sad face emoji)” (So glad they threw the emoji in or I would have totally missed their point.)

Younger-writer Me would have not taken these comments well. Present-day Me laughed my fucking head off.

You don’t like it? Fine. Makes no difference to me. But why all the hate and insults? All I’m reading are the thoughts of a bitter asshole who doesn’t understand the term “constructive criticism”.

If your overall message is simply “Your idea sucks, and now I’m going to shit all over it!” then what’s the point of even saying anything? Do you think your vitriolic rant is going to make me suddenly stop working on it?

There were so many ways I wanted to respond, and came really close to doing it several times, but instead opted to just stay silent. No matter what I said, it would probably be misconstrued and more than likely start an unnecessary battle of words. Not worth it.

Remember that little guideline for the group regarding “helpful advice”? How exactly does anything that was said do that? Anybody can say they don’t like something, but at least give a valid reason why. Another member chimed in that “you have to take the comments if you post”. I agree, but that means the comments have to be worth taking in the first place.

A friend offered up this reminder: “When someone criticizes, it needs to be specific and constructive. Otherwise, it has no value.” I’d say that’s pretty accurate, and definitely applies here.

An even more amazing aspect to this whole thing is that this is the exact same person who issued a similar diatribe over the logline for my western last year. As far as my research can tell, they are still a self-proclaimed “director, producer, screenwriter and script consultant,” although without any identifiable credits or internet presence.

The whole purpose of providing feedback is to use your knowledge to help the other person make their something better, and in a way that’s not insulting or belittling. In this case, neither happened.

This was just an angry opinion showing a total lack of knowledge, help and encouragement, and definitely could not be considered feedback in any true sense of the word.

Class is in session

All I need now is the magnifying glass
All I need now is the magnifying glass

When I start on a new project, I make a point of reading scripts and watching films that are similar to the kind of story I’m trying to tell.

This time around, it’s a rewrite of my mystery-comedy, so among the works being studied are CHINATOWN, L.A. CONFIDENTIAL and WHO FRAMED ROGER RABBIT (comedy, remember?). There are a lot more to consider (suggestions are always welcome), but I don’t want to overdo it. As much as I love submersing myself into these stories, I would like to eventually get around to actually working on the script.

Putting myself through this has a double benefit: I get to see solid examples of elements of the story and genre, which forces me to come up with different ways of how to tell a similar story but with my my own stamp on it. I’ll also be the first to admit that my skills at putting a mystery together aren’t exactly the best, so studying these will hopefully help me get a better sense of how to develop that part of the story.

Since this also happens to be a story I’ve worked on before, a lot of it is already in place, but there’s still a ton of work to do, with lots of ideas and changes being considered. Luckily, I have a few previous drafts to mine for material. Almost like starting anew, but with something very familiar.

My hope is that studying these scripts and films will help me get a better understanding of how all the puzzle pieces fit together in those stories, which will in turn will help me figure out how to do the same with mine.

This is the kind of homework I actually look forward to having.

I want instant gratification, and I want it now!

Don't be a Veruca
Don’t be a Veruca.

“Hurry up and wait.”

“It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

“It takes years to become an overnight success.”

“What do you mean you haven’t read it yet? I sent it yesterday!”

You’ve no doubt heard things like these and many others like them before. For a screenwriter, nothing happens as fast as you want it to.

As the contractors and engineers say, “You can have it done right or fast. Which one do you want?”

You might feel like something has to get done or be sent out immediately, but that just ends up being counterproductive. Or worse – has a negative impact. Who among us hasn’t sent out a draft to a potential rep or a contest, only to discover something wrong with it after the fact?

Maybe it’s thinking that the faster you get it out there, the faster the results will come. Those of us who’ve have been doing this for a while know that ain’t how it works. It takes as long as it takes. You can’t force it.

It constantly amazes me to hear writers who claim to have cranked out a first draft of a “surefire hit” in practically no time, don’t do any rewrites, then are dumbfounded when it doesn’t get any responses from the industry or fails to place in a contest. What else would you expect?

You have to learn to control that impulsiveness, and it is not easy. I’ll get an email about a special early bird rate for a contest, and I’ll immediately think “Great!” Then I remind myself that the script’s really not ready yet, and I’d much rather spend the time to work on it until it is. If that means totally missing the contest and entering it next year instead, then that’s fine.

Writing a screenplay is not something you want to rush through. There are so many elements to it, and learning how to do it properly and effectively takes a lot of time.

The only way you can make progress as a writer is to put in the time and effort to be a better writer. It might seem like it’s taking forever, but keep working at it and the results will present themselves before you know it.

Oh, the possibilities! – OR – It’s nice to have choices

Either way, I win
Either way, I win

With the books officially closed on my western spec (unless someone of influence wants to develop it further? Operators are standing by!), a certain question has been popping up on a regular basis:

“So what are you working on next?”

(This is a close relation of that other inevitable question: “What else have you got?”)

Any writer should have an answer ready. Doesn’t matter if it’s one script or three or ten. I’ve said it before, but it can’t be emphasized enough. The more you can build up your arsenal of material, the better.

Not only does this give you more scripts, but it also means you’ve been doing a lot of writing (and rewriting), which can only help improve your skills and the quality of your material. One of the things I’ve noticed from doing rewrite after rewrite is that each subsequent draft is a little better than its predecessor.

I try to always be working on something. Whenever I’d take a break from the western, my focus would shift to another script. Results always varied; sometimes I’d get farther along than expected, or not as far as I’d wanted, or just kept going until I got to a point I considered enough. It was all prep work for each individual project, with the underlying message of “it’s all part of the process”.

So where am I now?

I’m feeling fortunate in that I’ve got several scripts to choose from, some of which have multiple drafts, whereas others are still just an outline-in-progress. No matter where they are in the development stage, the heavy lifting is already out of the way in that they exist.

All of my options are viable (to me), each for its own reasons. Do I want to go high-concept or low budget? Comedy or popcorn adventure? There is no wrong answer.

I haven’t made a final decision as to which script I’ll work on next, but whichever one it does end up being, it’ll be the right choice for me, and I’m pretty psyched about getting started on it.

Again.

What makes the muskrat guard his musk?

My medal is metaphorical
My medal is metaphorical, yet still bulky

The rewrite’s done, and all of a sudden, I’m nervous. Like, ridiculously so.

I’ve sent scripts out before, but this time something is making it a lot different.

A fear of failure.  Of rejection.

What if nobody likes it?

What writer hasn’t gone through this?

But as I tell K every once in a while – the only way I could fail is if I stopped trying, and I don’t plan on doing that either.

It may be that after all this time, the idea of possibly being that much closer to actually achieving my goal is kind of overwhelming.  This is where that internal voice kicks in.

Do I have what it takes? Is the script just about ready to be sent out?

Damn straight. I’ve got a lot of confidence in this script and my writing ability.

I can and will do what it takes to make this work.

I wrote this a little over 3 years ago after finishing the final draft of my fantasy-adventure. That script went on to some moderate contest success and got me a manager.

Now I’m getting ready to repeat the whole thing with the western. I like to think my writing’s improved since then, but every word still applies today.

The fear never really goes away. I’ll always be nervous when I send out a script, but I’d be rather be nervous sending out a script than not even trying.

I’ve been doing this for quite a while, and each draft gets me a little bit closer to reaching that goal. Is this the time that it finally happens? I certainly hope so, and if not, I’ll just keep trying.

For all the fear and trepidation I feel during this part of the process, it’s my drive to want to succeed that always wins out and keeps me going.

And a very hearty thanks to everybody who’s helped me along the way to tell this story about a girl and her train.

Can’t wait to show you what comes next.