All I need to do is cut out the non-essentials. Who needs food, sleep or oxygen anyway?
I’m in the home stretch for the November writing project. I got into Act 3 over the weekend, and think there about 10-12 pages left before I can call it a day. No reason I can’t wrap things up in the next couple of days. Estimated final page count should be somewhere in the mid-90s, so pretty much where I was hoping it would be.
My original intent was to put that on the back burner once it was done and shift my focus to another script, but something else has developed that definitely requires my attention: other people’s work.
Over the past couple of months, I’ve been very fortunate to have gotten some fantastic feedback from friends and trusted colleagues. Now it’s my turn to return the favor.
Actually, make that favors. Plural.
Every time I’ve asked someone if they’d be willing to read and give me notes, I always offer to do the same for them. And several have taken me up on the offer.
Which is totally fine. I just didn’t expect all of them to happen within such a short timeframe. But it’s cool. Just requires a little planning.
Some script-related items, two scripts requiring special attention (with a bit of a time limitation), and at least 4-5 others getting straight-up notes. Yeah, that’s a lot, but I’d feel pretty shitty if I didn’t reciprocate the kindness all of these folks extended to me.
While I’d love to keep the 2-pages-a-day momentum going clear through to the end of December and have at least part of a draft of another script, taking care of these is now top priority.
It may take me a little longer than I expect, but I always strive to honor my commitments. I said I’d do something for you, and by gosh, I’ll do it.
Just the right size for enjoyment at your convenience
Busy times continuing, so just a few items worth mentioning.
-Good progress as the November writing project continues. Closing in on the end of Act 2, and with a few days off next week, hoping to steamroll my way through Act 3 and wrap up the first draft. Still averaging about 2 pages a day, which isn’t necessarily because I’m not very productive, but partially due to…
-Been very busy the past couple of weeks giving notes on scripts written by writer pals kind enough to do it for me. Everybody’s patience is much appreciated.
-In the early discussion stages of helping out on 2 potential projects. Both feel like they’ll really push my creativeness to the limit. Always nice.
-Ran the Golden Gate Half this past Sunday. 1:56:36, including a lot of uphill on both sides of the bridge and a light drizzle during miles 8 through 11. Also nice.
-My daughter, the illustrious Ms V, turned 13 this week. The next few years are going to be interesting, to say the least. Wish me luck.
Have an excellent weekend, and make sure to get some kickass writing done.
I don’t mind the orange robes or the incense, but no way am I shaving my head
As has been well-documented round these parts, I recently entered my western in two contests. One includes feedback as part of the entrance fee, the other gives it as an option.
I don’t usually go the feedback route when it comes to contests, but it had been recommended, so I bit the bullet and opted to do it.
You know that nervous feeling you get in the pit of your stomach while you’re waiting for some kind of potentially life-impacting news? That’s exactly what I was experiencing. Despite my confidence in the script, plus positive comments from friends and trusted colleagues, the butterflies were still taking up residence in my mid-section.
No matter how much I tried to redirect my concentration on working on the low-budget comedy, that nagging thought about the contest feedback would not go away.
What if after all was said and done, the general consensus was that the script sucked and I’d wasted all that time and effort for nothing? Sometimes there’s nothing as powerful as a writer’s self-doubt. It can be downright crippling.
Then the first email came in. If I’d been hooked up to a heart monitor, the thing would have blown a fuse in trying to keep up.
The notes were very positive. Some intriguing comments about what the reader thought needed work, but they seemed to really enjoy it. Possibly even a lot, which was extremely reassuring.
The way I see it, if the reader isn’t gushing over how perfect and wonderful the script is, then I figure there’s not much chance it’ll place, let alone win. Turns out I’m cool with that. While it would be great to win, this is still a pretty solid result.
Two days later, the next email came in. Oh jeez. All those positive feelings I’d reestablished vanished in a puff of smoke. Here we go again.
But much to my surprise, these notes were on par with their predecessor. Lots of positive things to say, plus some suggestions about potential fixes, plus a few things the reader didn’t catch that I thought were fairly obvious, or at least hadn’t been an issue before.
These notes also included scores in 16 categories. Out of a potential 10, I got 2 8s, 2 10s, and the rest were 9s, which was fantastic. Final score 135 out of 150. Not perfect, but still – they seemed to like it, and nobody’s saying, “You suck! Give up now!” Again, do I think I’ll win? Not likely. Place? Maybe. But right now, that doesn’t seem important.
This whole experience definitely feels like a “face your fears” kind of thing. I know I can do this, and each draft really does help me improve. I was psyching myself out about how I’d do, and ended up actually doing better than expected. That’s pretty good. And since each set of notes had similar things to say about a particular part of the script, I have plenty of time to work on making those fixes before the deadlines for more high-profile contests like PAGE and the Nicholl. Also pretty good.
But most of all I really like the fact that now I can finally put aside thinking/worrying/obsessing about these contests with a little more confidence in my abilities and get back to focusing on developing my other scripts*.
*I’m taking part in the “write an entire script in November” project, but I admit to having had a bit of a head start by working on the low-budget comedy, which was already around the halfway point. But getting this draft done by the end of the month would still put me ahead of schedule.
-My writing chum Justin Sloan, who’s interviewed me as part of his Creative Writing Career book series, has launched the similarly-named Creative Writing Career podcast. A great listen for creative writers interested in several fields, including screenwriting, books and video games. Highly recommended.
Anybody else suspect how the American Dental Association figures in all of this?
Halloween Eve shorty today.
This has been a real rollercoaster of a week around Maximum Z HQ. Highs, lows, and many points in between, including:
-Notes back from BlueCat and Screencrafting Action about the western. Very positive comments from both, plus a few “needs a little work”-type items. Don’t know if I have a shot at winning either, but I’d be okay with a top 10 or along those lines. At least nobody said the script sucked.
-Been busy giving notes on friends’ scripts. So far, everybody’s liked what I’ve had to say, including a lot of agreement about what the notes say. Always nice.
-Started compiling a new list of potential query recipients to add to the master list I already have. Also got some great feedback on a revamped query letter. Trying to be more organized about it this time, including customizing as many letters as I can.
-There’s a strong sense of big changes of a positive nature in the air, so I’m going to do what I can to hold on to those and keep working on turning them into reality.
Hope you have a great weekend and get lots of kickass writing done (after whatever Halloween activities you’ll be engaging in, of course).
I posted this just about a year ago, and after recently receiving some very supportive and encouraging script notes, think it’s still relevant.
“Am I getting better?
One of the sad truths about trying to make it as a screenwriter is that it’s an extremely frustrating process.
On certain days, the frustration feels like it extends to the uppermost part of the outer edge of the stratosphere. To the nth degree.
What is it about screenwriting that people who don’t do it think it’s easy? If you’re reading this, it’s more than likely you’ve given it a go, or at least know somebody who has, so you know full well that it most definitely is not.
We even try to warn those who think hammering out a first draft in a few weeks is a guaranteed million dollar paycheck. This is a long and arduous road, we say, but they don’t let that stop them. A legion of the truly unaware who will discover the scary truth soon enough.
Those of us who are fully committed (an apt phrase if ever there was one) finish the latest draft, then edit, rewrite and polish it so many times it enters well into double digit territory, hoping our writing and storytelling skills are improving with each new attempt.
But how do we know if that’s even happening?
We ask friends and trusted colleagues for feedback. We pay for professional analysis. The script gets reworked yet again.
We hope this newest draft is light years ahead of all of its previous incarnations in terms of quality, but sometimes it’s tough to be able to recognize if that’s the case. At least for me, anyway.
Whenever I send somebody a script for critiquing, I always say “Thanks for taking a look. Hope you like it.”
I know the script isn’t perfect – maybe even far from it, which is why I ask for help. Part of me knows it’s good, but can be better. It’s being able to identify the latter that gives me trouble. I’m so deeply embedded in a story that it’s tough to step back and be objective. Maybe I can not look at it for a few weeks, but even then it’s tough to look at it with fresh eyes.
Follow-up notes will tell me what they liked and what they feel needs work. There will be a fair mix of stuff I should have already figured out and some “How could I have missed that?” surprises.
So back I go into rewrite mode, hoping for improvement for both the material and myself, still not knowing if that improvement is there until I undergo the entire process all over again.
Maximum Z 