Pause, think, act – OR – What’s the rush?

One wrong step is all it takes to mess everything up
One wrong step is all it takes to mess everything up

As nice as it would be for everybody to get on the ball and work within our timeframes, it just doesn’t work that way. Waiting is truly a necessary evil in this business.

In our overeagerness to get things moving, sometimes poor judgment prevails, despite a pre-established conscious effort – “I’ve seen other people make these stupid mistakes, but that’s not going to happen to me.”

I hate to break it to you, but in one way or another, yeah, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

But we learn from experience, and move forward, knowing what not to do.

Most of the time.

The spectre of “act first, think second” can still rear its ugly head when we’re least expecting it.

You send out your latest draft, only to then see all those typos you forgot to fix. That query letter to an agent has the wrong name in it. Things of that nature.

Yes, you want to get things moving, but if you don’t slow down and take a good, hard look at your material, then you’re defeating yourself before you even start.

“But this is perfect!” you protest. “It’s ready to go!”

According to you, maybe. Many’s the time I thought my latest draft was the definitive final one, only to find out from outside sources how it could be better.

Don’t think something has to get out right now. It’s going to take time to get a response, let alone have things start happening. Better to hold off and make sure it’s the best it can be, rather than send something out too soon and look unprofessional.

Find a tone and stick with it

Something in this seems a little out of place
Something in this seems a little out of place

I used to dread getting feedback. It always meant having to go back and rewrite something.

Fortunately, I’m well past that and now appreciate how necessary both feedback and rewriting are.

Feedback makes you learn to value the necessity of hearing how somebody else interprets your work, and more importantly, how to be objective when it comes to really understanding what they have to say.

While working on the outline of my mystery rewrite, I looked for opportunities to put in an occasional joke (read: cheap laugh).

The problem, according to my top feedback-provider, was that the jokes, while understandable for their intent, were totally wrong for this kind of story. They make my protagonist come across as an idiot and the action comes to a screeching halt each time. And since this is more mystery than comedy, they shouldn’t be drawing attention to themselves like that.

There were other notes besides this one, but this one really struck a nerve – in a good way. I’ve been working on rewriting the jokes to make them a better fit within the context of the story, rather than have them be glaringly obvious and out of place.

As you create the world of your story, you have to make sure all the elements combine to make a believable scenario. This goes way beyond the story and the characters – take everything into account.  If something seems out of place, fix it or get rid of it.

And if you’re not sure, that’s what feedback is for.

Rediscovery within the idea factory

Where output is a 24/7 operation
Where output is a 24/7 operation

Where do you keep your collection of story ideas? A folder stashed away somewhere in your home office? A notebook tucked away on a bookshelf?  A flash drive lost amidst the clutter on that messy desk you keep telling yourself you’re going to eventually get around to cleaning?

No matter where it is, hopefully you still have it and have been contributing to it all this time.  The stuff you came up with way back when with the intention of getting back to it someday.

When was the last time you looked at any of them?  How much did you work on this or that before moving on?

It might just be a title, a logline, or a single paragraph. Take a closer look. How do they read now?

Does your mind still race about the possibilities of what could happen? Do you read it and think “I barely (or don’t) remember writing any of this,” or (hopefully) “This is a lot better than I remember.” Do you make a mental note that this has to be your next project?

Sometimes the ideas we come up with are better than we realize. The initial effort might not be what we’re hoping for, but  the idea or concept behind it is so strong – that’s what really appeals to us; it really drives us and motivates us to explore it further. Some may jump right into reworking it, while others file it away – “I’ll hold on to this.”

Maybe all you really needed were time and experience. Aren’t we all better writers than we were, say, a year or two ago?

Last week I wrote about working on two projects. While I wait for feedback on each in their current state, I turned my attention to the outline of a story I came up with about five or six years ago.

Much to my surprise, there were two outlines: the original, and then a semi-rewrite from two years after that. I skimmed through both. I prefer the second one, but there are definitely elements from the first I can incorporate into a new version.

There’s nothing like finding some of your old material and not just enjoying it, but seeing its potential and looking forward to working on it.

(As much as I’d like to add this into the mix, it’s probably better to not overdo it. I’ll focus on the other two, then move on to this one.)

So dig around and find your ideas from days gone by. You might even be surprised and potentially impressed with what you find.

It must be true. My business card says so.

So as to remove any further doubt
So as to remove any further doubt

I got a very interesting email the other day, with the subject of “Want to get your script into shape?”.

How could I resist such a persuasive sales pitch?

What followed was a lengthy diatribe about what an almost insurmountable task it was to write not just a good script, but a great one with the potential to open all kinds of doors and really get my career going.

If I wanted any of that to happen, then I should seriously consider the services of a script consultant.  Specifically, this person.

It was a foregone conclusion I wasn’t interested, but I was intrigued to know more about them. Exactly who is this, and why should I invest the time and money to work with them? So I clicked on the link to their website.

Let’s just say it was not encouraging.

A very early-2000s look to the whole thing. Generic descriptions of what a script consultant is, how they can help me and lots of pie-in-the-sky descriptions of what could possibly happen with my script. No details about cost. Totally anonymous testimonials (which didn’t even sound true to begin with).

Did I mention this email showed up in my junk mail folder?

Just to seal the deal, I looked them up on IMDB Pro. Exactly. Nothing.

We all know this is an incredibly tough business to break into, and take all the help we can get.  Using professional feedback can really benefit your work and help develop your skills.  The tough part is figuring out who actually is a professional and gives you your money’s worth.

Utilize the tools at your disposal and do your homework. Ask questions of your peers via emails or Twitter. Check the numerous blogs and forums. There’s no reason you can’t find the information you need. And don’t be afraid to price-check and comparison shop. This is your time and money we’re talking about.

There will always be people who claim to be experts or professionals with all the answers, looking to take advantage of your desperation to succeed and ready to take your money.

Fortunately, you can go into this prepared and not let them.

The fat that must be trimmed

Personally, I prefer a red pen and the 'delete' key
Personally, I prefer a red pen and the ‘delete’ key

Steadily working my way through the coveted territory of Act 3, although the wrapping-up of some subplots still needs some work. Nothing I can’t handle.

Throughout this whole process has been an ongoing tinkering with what was there before. Some items have been cut (necessarily so) while some have been expanded (also necessarily so).

Among what had been cut were a trio of characters who only existed in a handful of scenes in the third act. The only reason they were originally around was to provide conflict with the main character, but didn’t really serve much else of a purpose.

So they’ve been cut, with another character’s part slightly modified and expanded to take their place.

This goes way beyond killing one’s darlings. It’s about making the story as lean and streamlined as possible, and if that means cutting characters, scenes or even sequences, so be it.  You do what’s necessary.

But this is also where it can get tricky. How do you know what should stay and what should go?

Unfortunately, there’s no easy answer. But you can learn by constantly writing, rewriting and getting feedback. It’s a skill that takes time to develop, so don’t rush it.

(You could read scripts, but those are often the finished product. You won’t know what it looked like before.)

A good rule of thumb: ask yourself as you write and edit – “How much of a difference will it make to the story if I take this out?”

Chances are once you make those cuts, you won’t even miss what’s been taken out, which means it probably shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

-A total self-indulgent announcement: I ran the San Jose Rock & Roll Half Marathon on Sunday, thinking there was no way I could beat my previous best time ever of 1:53:07, set back in August.

But somehow, despite warm weather and the occasional feeling of “Jeez, when is this going to end?”, I shaved almost 2 minutes off and finished at 1:51:11. Totally didn’t see that coming.

With no races scheduled in the near future, I don’t want to get ahead of myself and even consider the possibility of hitting 1:50.

Although I’ll admit the thought does occasionally cross my mind.