Opening doors with a calling card

reader
Hokey smokes! This is almost exactly what I’m looking for!

Amazing fact time!

Did you know that for as loved a genre the western is, there is an inordinate amount of hesitation to actually producing one?

It’s true. Shocking, isn’t it?

I can’t blame them. Westerns are an expensive undertaking. Locations, set design, wardrobe, horses. All that moolah really adds up. And fast.

And if the film bombs? Well, that bankroll is now gone with the tumbleweeds, along with an increased level of reluctance to look at other works in that genre.

I knew all of this all too well while I was working on mine (along with a steady barrage of reminders of that nature from those with nothing but good intentions), but it was a story I really liked and was excited about, so I wrote it anyway. Still very glad I did.

Now the script’s done and I’m working on the next one, but I’m also devoting some time to seeing what I can do with it. Contests, queries, the usual rigamarole.

As fantastic as it would be to see this story up on the big screen, the odds of that happening are not exactly in my favor, which is okay. I’m quite content to use it as my go-to calling card script. The ideal scenario: people read it, love the writing, and think I’d be perfect for another project.

A lot of writers write something with the intention of selling it, which 99.9 percent of the time ain’t gonna happen; it’s more important to write something to show, or maybe prove is a better word, that you’ve got talent and skills. Somebody reads your work and can tell this writer is somebody who know what they’re doing.

Would I love for somebody to read any of my scripts and say “I want to get this made!”? Of course.

Would I love for somebody to read any of my scripts and say “There’s no way I could get this made, but I really like the way you write. Would you be interested in this writing assignment?”

Without a doubt.

A long (train) ride comes to an end

caboose
Fittingly apropos

A good number of years ago, I came up with an idea for a script.

“Write something you would want to see.” This definitely fell into that category.

There were so many angles and aspects to it I found appealing. The concept kept drawing me in, compelling me to tell the story in the most entertaining way possible.

To say I’ve really thrown myself into it during all this time would be an absolute understatement.

I couldn’t even tell you how many iterations and drafts this story has gone through; let’s just say a whole freakin’ lot.

Notes? I’ve probably received enough to make two books, or at least a really long pdf. Some were good, some weren’t, and some seemed to exist in an alternate dimension where opposites are the norm.

I’d finish a draft, thinking, “Okay. This is IT.” And if you’ve been following this saga, you know how it turned out each time.

There were lots of times of feeling totally burned out, thinking there was nothing else to do. Or receiving comments like “Why keep messing with it? It’s good enough as it is.”

But something kept nagging at me, saying “This can still be better. Keep going.”

So I did. My faith in the story was still strong. I knew I could make this work.

The tweaking/fine-tuning continued, aided by a few more sets of notes courtesy of very qualified readers. My red pen was working on overdrive. Cut this. Move this. Switch these around. Expand on this. Changes and fixes were made, until…

“The End” had once again been reached. But this time it felt different. I won’t say “complete”, but you get the idea.

I’ve been extremely fortunate in connecting with a lot of exceptionally talented writers over the years, and there’s one whose critiquing ability I hold in very high regard. I asked them to look over the script, adding that this was for the most prestigious screenwriting contest of them all.

The last time they read it was two years ago, so there was some extra intrigue regarding what they’d think of this draft. Approval from one’s peers plays a bigger-than-expected part in helping a writer develop.

They liked it.

A lot.

I’ve been writing screenplays for quite a while, always striving to improve both my skills and the quality of my material, all as part of the effort to become a working writer. Reading their notes helped solidify my belief that this could actually happen.

Final preparations are being made to submit the script to the aforementioned prestigious screenwriting contest. Is this draft better than previous ones? Definitely. Has its chances for this contest improved? God, I hope so.

Even if nothing happens with this or the other high-profile contests, I still have a script I consider well-written and exceptionally entertaining. At this point in time, I don’t think there’s any reason to do any more work on it. So now it enters into that category of “calling card scripts”, ready to be sent out at a moment’s notice.

In the meantime, my attention is currently being split between several other projects in various stages of development. And based on how much my writing improved working on this script, I’ll speculate that the quality of these newer ones might just end up being pretty darned good.

 

Crafting a tale to thrill, astonish, and exhilarate

mad-scientist
Those fools at the film academy dare call me mad? I’ll show ’em! Mwahaha!

2017’s writing got off to a pleasantly rousing start with the commencement of the first draft of my latest project: the pulpy adventure spec.

Yep. After years of working on the outline, I finally decided to take the plunge and write the damned thing.

Seeing as how this is a genre near and dear to my heart, I dove into the opening sequence headfirst and just had at it, surpassing the original goal of completing at least 2 pages a day by two and a half times that amount. Add to that the 4 pages for yesterday, and that places me further ahead than anticipated. It’s not expected to maintain this kind of output on a daily basis, but no complaints so far.

That being said, upon reflection, the latest scene still leaves a little to be desired, so an impromptu rewrite is already being planned out and will be implemented straightaway.

A few alterations have also been made in regards to the overall writing process.

First, even though the outline needs to be rock-solid before starting on pages, the scene descriptions are sometimes a little vague. “Big fight happens!”, that sort of thing.

When that happens, the focus shifts to plotting out the beats of that particular scene. How do things play out so it tells the story and moves things forward? Is it accomplishing what it needs to? It’s quite helpful, and helps prevent a lot of frustration in trying to think up stuff on the spot.

Another is fully embracing the whole “just get it done” attitude. Write it down and move on. There’ll be time for all that fancy-pants editing and polishing stuff later. It’s also been noticed that sometimes the first idea is still the best.

And in what may be the most important development, seeing as how this is at its core my interpretation of the old pulp novels, I’m doing what I can do to really make it read that way. One could even argue that writing the western was just a warm-up exercise. The writing in this script might be a little more over the top than usual, but that could be exactly what it needs.

Even though it’s a screenplay, I take a certain pleasure in coloring things a slightly stronger shade of purple.

There’s no specific target deadline for completing this draft, but hopefully it won’t take too long. For now, I’m just enjoying the ride.

A label I wear proudly

sturges
We work wherever, whenever, and however we can

I can’t remember exactly where I saw it, but a couple of days ago there was a comment in a screenwriting forum that read something like “All you wannabe dreamers are just wasting your time”.

Oh, how I adore the encouraging words of total strangers.

But in all seriousness, I take issue with that statement. Nothing wannabe about me at all. I’m a total dreamer, through and through, and I don’t see this as wasting my time.

Far from it.

I think up stories and put ’em down on paper, and I really like that I can do that. A lot. (So much to the point that I think I could actually make a living at it. Here’s hoping, anyway.)

Other dreamers express themselves using any form of different methods. They’ll paint, draw, sculpt, compose, act, or sing. And it’s probably correct in assuming they get the same joy out of doing it that I do.

Is everybody good at it? No. Does that mean they shouldn’t even try? Of course not. We do it because we enjoy it.

One consequence about being a dreamer is that there will always be somebody like that anonymous naysayer. You don’t have to listen to them. It’s a lot easier to tear someone down than it is to build them up. That person may have had been bad experiences trying to do the same thing, and if they couldn’t do it, then nobody else can (or so the theory goes).

But you should also be realistic. Not everybody’s going to create The Most Amazing Thing Ever. Don’t let that stop you from trying. Speaking from my own perspective, even though I’ve made some forward progress for both skills and career, it’s taken a long time, with the number of setbacks and disappointments being significantly higher, but despite all that, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing. Better to put myself through all of that rather than to have given up and not tried at all.

What can I say? It’s the dreamer in me.

So here’s to all of us dreamers. Long may our imaginations and the ability and methods in which we express them reign in an effort to make the world a slightly more enjoyable place.

Oh, and screw the naysayers.

Finding my forte. Mining my milieu. Spelunking my specialty.

e-ticket
A reference only a select few will get. (85 cents?? Truly a bygone age)

While engaged in a very engaging conversation about screenwriting earlier this week, the person with whom I was conversing with asked the simplest and most straight-forward of questions:

“What do you like to write?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, I proudly stated, “Adventures.”

You can’t even say the word without implying the thrills and excitement it entails. Hands on hips, chest out, shoulders back, and a firmly-set jaw are automatically included.

I’ve enjoyed dabbling in other genres (such as drama and comedy), but nothing really grabs me like thinking up and writing out some sort of heart-pounding, edge-of-your-seat rollercoaster ride of a scene or sequence.

Those really never get old.

They say “Write what you know,” and although I’ve never actually fought monsters, manned a runaway train, or flown a space-faring vessel, years of reading and watching material of that type and nature has taught me an effective way of how to effectively inject adrenaline into what I’m writing.

More than a few readers have commented that my love and appreciation of the material and genre are boldly evident on the page, which is what I’m hoping  to accomplish every time.

My mantra has always been “Write something I would want to see”, and my list of future projects is jam-packed with numerous ideas and concepts that neatly fall into that category; each one a variation on the topic of discussion.

If these are the kinds of stories I was meant to write, you’ll get no complaints from me. I get a real kick out of cranking this stuff out. There’s no reason to think this can’t develop into what I build a career on and eventually become known for (he said, his fingers firmly crossed). My scripts. Rewriting someone else’s. Contributing to another. It’s all cool as far as I’m concerned.

Until then, all I can do is keep writing and making my readers feel their pulses quicken as they eagerly turn the page, absolutely spellbound to find out how the hero gets themselves out of this particular pickle, and, more importantly, what happens next.

Strap yourselves in, chums. This is going to be one helluva ride.