Two shoulders, no waiting

shoulder
Plus two sympathetic ears at no additional cost

Trying to make it as a screenwriter is a tough choice to begin with. It’s a long, drawn-out process that takes a long time before any significant results can be achieved. Sure, there are exceptions, but for the most part, it remains a marathon, not a sprint.

And that also means there’s going to be A LOT of heartache and disappointment along the way, and that can really take its toll on you. Not to sound too New Age-y, but all that negative energy can do significant damage to your confidence and self-esteem.

“This is never going to work.”

“I can’t do this.”

“Why do I even bother?”

If you’ve never said or thought any of these things, I’d love to know how in the world you managed to accomplish that and still call yourself a screenwriter.

Many’s the time I’ve seen comments on a public forum from another writer that echo these sentiments, or had them send me a private note saying something similar.

And I feel for them – whole-heartedly. I’ve been that writer thinking those thoughts a lot, too.

Do I wish I could help them out in any capacity? Without a doubt.

Even though it may not be much, I’ll offer up whatever support or encouragement I can. Don’t underestimate the power or effectiveness of telling somebody you’re in their corner. It makes quite the difference knowing you’re not alone during this tumultuous journey.

I once got a note from a writer I barely knew. They knew a writer I knew, and had seen some of my postings online. We were both semi-finalists in a prestigious contest, and it was the day the finalists were being announced.

For reasons totally unknown to me, they contacted me, asking if I’d received any kind of update. I hadn’t.

“Having a total shit writing year so far so I’m clinging to anything positive ha,” was their response.

I told them I was sorry to hear that, and offered up my own frustratingly good-but-not-great batting average, along with a few words of encouragement in the vein of “much as it hurts to get thrown off, you just gotta keep getting back on the horse”.

They were in total agreement.

An hour or so later, the finalists were announced. I wasn’t one of them. But they were. Naturally, I was disappointed, but also happy for them because they had something good happen.

The takeaway here is that you’re not alone in this. Every other writer goes through it. We’re all going to have a lot of bad days, probably a lot more than the number of good days, and it can be tough to get through it, let alone come out stronger.

This is one of those added benefits to networking and connecting with other writers. You’re not just helping to develop your writing and analytical skills, you’re creating your own emotional support network.

Chances are you’ll have a stronger relationship with a small number of people; the ones you’ve interacted with, or shared scripts, exchanged notes, etc., on a more regular basis.

Don’t be afraid to reach out and tell one of them “Hey, I’m not feeling too good about this right now. Mind if I talk about it?” They’ll understand, and be supportive about it (in theory). Just being able to talk about it could help you feel a little better.

Screenwriting is complicated enough, and gets even more so when you throw all your hopes and ambition into it. Sometimes you’ll feel strong, powerful, ready to take on the world. And sometimes you’ll feel like the world’s beaten you to a bloody pulp with no hope for recovery. (Again, I’ve experienced both.)

You can’t force yourself to feel better and restore your confidence, but you can take little steps to help yourself out – at your own pace. And any help you might need is always there and easily accessible.

-Speaking of helping somebody out, friend-of-the-blog Leo Maselli is running a crowdfunding campaign for his anthology feature project CA SHORTS. Donate if you can!

I know the rules, and do not hesitate to break them

breaking free
Took a while to be able to do it, but well worth the effort

Used to be that when I would outline a story, I’d try to be as spot-on about hitting industry-recommended page numbers as I could.

Statement of theme on page 3, inciting incident on page 10, etc., etc. That’s how I learned it, so that’s how it must be.

These days? Not so much.

I don’t go crazy, you understand. No scenes lasting 10 pages or anything of that nature.  More like “this happens…around here-ish”.

When I first gave it a try, my immediate thought was “Is that going to be a problem?” It had become so ingrained into my process that this was how it was supposed to be, and any deviation from that was wrong.

Then my writer’s sense of craft kicked in with a hearty “Nope. Have at it, kid”.

As far as I know, the screenwriting police (is there such a thing?) aren’t going to shut me down because something doesn’t happen where THE RULES say it should. I’d rather focus on telling an engaging story with an intelligent plot and well-developed characters than worry about this kind of pettiness.

And honestly? It’s incredibly liberating.

I’m much more interested in telling the story in a way I deem appropriate, rather than drastically cutting something or even cutting it altogether just to make sure the beats happen on the designated pages.

So if my opening sequence runs a page or three longer, so be it. Does it work against me? I don’t think so. My writing usually moves at a good pace, so if something happens a little sooner or later than you expect, and if I’ve done my job in really grabbing your attention, chances are you probably won’t even notice it.

Unless you’re a real stickler for that sort of thing. Most of the writers who read my stuff aren’t; they’re more interested in reading a good script.

-Through September 30th (that’s this Sunday!), the fine folks at LiveRead/LA are offering the discount code MAXZ15 for 15 percent off their script services and the fee for their contest where your script could  be one of two read live by professional actors in Los Angeles in October. Following the read (30 pages max), feedback will be provided, including from veteran production exec & producer Debbie Liebling – Comedy Central, Fox, now working with Sam Raimi. Writers from everywhere are encouraged to submit. The event will be livestreamed, so if your script is chosen and you can’t attend, feedback will be provided live via Skype.

-Filmmaker Scott Kawczynski is running a crowdfunding project for his animated film Light Work. It’s a pre-sale, so even for $1, you can watch the film. Donate if you can!

More than just a pencil?

giant pencil
It wasn’t THAT big

Now that we’re in the month of October, what happened to me this morning feels very apropos for the season, and definitely worth recounting.

But first, a little backstory…

The latest draft of the pulp sci-fi is just about wrapped up. I’ve received lots of great notes on it, and incorporated some very helpful suggestions. The contest I’d like to send it to has its final deadline next week, so the past few weeks have been all about getting it as ready as I can.

While I still plan on submitting this script, there’s still that part of me that isn’t sure if it’s good enough, and that maybe I should hold off on the contest because it just needs too much work, which of course makes me doubt my abilities as a writer.

“Am I good enough? Am I wasting my time?” You know. The usual.

Cut to this morning.

My workday starts at 5AM, which means I get up around 3:15. Part of my getting ready involves having to take the dog out.

Since we live near Golden Gate Park, there’s always a chance of running into raccoons or skunks, so I’ve started bringing a flashlight as part of the dog-walking.

This morning, we got to the bottom of our front steps, and right there just beyond the first step was a pencil. Just a plain ol’ regular pencil.

I thought that was kind of weird. How did a pencil get there? Maybe one of the neighbor kids dropped it yesterday as they passed by? But it wasn’t there last night when I took the dog out. I took the dog around the corner. She took care of business, and we returned home. The pencil was still there.

We got inside and I got ready to head out to work. For some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about the pencil. It being there seemed so random.

Maybe about seven, eight minutes pass between returning inside with the dog and going down to the garage to get my bike ready (helmet, lights, etc). I step outside. Just out of curiosity, I want to see that pencil again.

I maneuver my bike over to the steps and reposition the headlight down towards the sidewalk.

No pencil. Swear to God. It was gone.

Let’s consider the possibilities:

-it wasn’t there to begin with. Maybe, but I distinctly remember seeing it just a few minutes ago.

-it wasn’t a pencil. Highly doubtful. The unmistakble yellow, the green metal, a pink eraser. Definitely a pencil.

-somebody took it. possible, but highly unlikely. Not a lot of foot traffic in our neighborhood at 4AM. K later suggested it was the paper delivery guy, but his m.o. is to  toss the paper from inside the car. Plus, we don’t get the paper anyway, so there’d be no reason for him to stop in front of our place.

-a raccoon or skunk took it. Again, highly unlikely, but you never know. They continuously go after our composting bin on the other side of the house, so why not snatch up a pencil?

And what may be the most outlandish theory of all – it was some kind of message to me.

Think about it. A pencil. The most basic of writing implements. Maybe this was some kind of “sign from beyond” that despite all my doubts and occasional lapses of self-confidence, writing really is what I’m meant to do and that I should keep at it.

Then again, I might find the pencil upon returning home later today, rendering the whole thing moot. (In which case, I’d wonder “How could I not see it earlier?”)

But pencil or no pencil, the message, or at least how I interpreted it, remains the same. Even with all the frustration, I’m in this for the long haul. There’ll be good days and bad days, but I’m hanging in there, determined to keep going.

Thus the pushing forward continues…

Guilty as charged

lardner mugshot
I did it. I’m glad I did it. And I’ll do it again. As many times as necessary.

The clock’s ticking down to the final deadline for an upcoming contest, so almost all of my energies are being directed at getting the pulp sci-fi in as tip-top shape as possible. Overall, I’d say it’s coming along nicely.

As you’d expect, there have already been some big changes made, with more than a few more on the way.

A major part of some of these changes has involved cutting material that I previously considered untouchable, or at least to do so would have constituted a crime against all that is good and wholesome.

Otherwise known as “killing one’s darlings”.

As you edit/polish/rewrite your scripts, changes will (and should) occur within the context of the story, so you have to deal with the consequences and ramifications of making those changes. And that means gettin’ rid of the stuff you love.

Did I really, really like this line of dialogue or that scene? Most definitely.

Did I cut it without a moment’s hesitation because it just didn’t work anymore? Yep.

Any regrets? Not really. Why should I? It’s all about making the script better, right?

A lot of writers won’t cut something because they hold it too close. To them, their ego takes precedence over the material. If a producer or director says something doesn’t work, and says it’ll have to be cut, what are they going to do? Say no?

It’s very rare that the final draft of a screenplay is exactly like the first draft. Changes will always be necessary, whether you want to make them or not. Much as you might hate it at the moment, make those changes. Chances are you’ll barely remember what was there before anyway.

A screenplay-in-progress is the raw material, and your job as the writer is to continuously work with it and shape it in order to get it to the final version – the one that tells your story in the best way possible.

If that means discarding something for something new, so be it. Even more so if the new something is even more effective.

One more hurdle hurdled

hurdles
On to the next one!

A little self-serving project status update for today…

Work on the comedy spec has been put on hold so I can polish up the pulp sci-fi in order to make a fast-approaching contest deadline.

Luckily for me, I’ve been very fortunate to get some high-quality feedback on it from trusted colleagues, and a lot of what they’re saying has been proving most helpful.

Several readers had the same comments about several sections. If one person had said it, their suggestion might be worth considering. Since it was a bit more than one, action had to be taken.

Among the notes was that a few scenes were simply too clichéd and unoriginal, and that their tropey-ness, along with being kind of dull, was more or less counteracting the high-octane action of the rest of the script.

Changes had to be made.

The objective of the scenes and sequences in question was still the same, but the execution needed some major work.

I went through several options with a mindset of “What haven’t I seen before?”, and came up with one I thought adequately fit the bill. That triggered a few more ideas, which upon a little more figuring out, could actually be connected to other parts of the story.

A little more tweaking and suddenly it all clicked into place. By having A happen, that would result in B, which leads into C, which both reinforced an integral part of the overall story while further developing a character several readers had felt was somewhat lacking in substance.

It was quite an exhilarating sensation.

There’s still more work to do for the script, but I felt quite psyched about having gotten this far, along with looking forward to implementing a few more of those much-appreciated notes.