frustration

I despise this with the fiery intensity of a thousand suns

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No doubt many within the assorted writing communities have received at least one email of this nature:

“Hi there!

I found your book/project (TITLE) and was immediately captivated by what an amazing work it is on the subject of (WHATEVER).

1-2 PARAGRAPHS OF FLOWERY ASS-KISSING PROSE AND ASSORTED GENERALIZED COMMENTS BASED ON YOUR WORK AND ANY RELATED DESCRIPTIONS AND/OR WRITE-UPS FOUND ONLINE

I think the potential for the impact this material could have is huge! Just imagine readers having in-depth discussions about the complexities revolving around (SUBJECT).

I would love to discuss this more/have you on my podcast/social media. When would be a convenient time for you?”

You may at first think this is an honest and sincere email from somebody genuinely interested in your work.

To a certain extent, it is, but not from a creative perspective.

Because you know what’s coming next – and they’re never upfront about it. They shower you with praise and lofty expectations to reel you in, before the inevitable:

“I wanted to also let you know what the tier levels are for the varying packages we offer to help to promote your material.”

And there it is.

To paraphrase – “We want you to pay for the privilege of having us promote your work.”

Sometimes I respond to the initial email with lots of probing questions, seeking out at least an iota of truth. Getting even that is challenging.

No matter what, I wrap it up by writing “Thanks, but no thanks”, sending it and then deleting all of it.

Sometimes they come back with a “I’m sorry to hear that. We’re really interested in working with you. What can we do to help make this happen?”

I’m too polite to send my immediate thought of “fuck off and die, you bloodsucking leeches”; others may not be as reserved. I remain silent, delete that one, and move on with my life.

I get it. Some writers are so desperate that they’ll shell out the bucks to do this. That’s their choice. I prefer not to. Although I am curious how effective these campaigns are, or if at all. I’m inclined to think most writers regret having made the investment.

Would love to hear from anybody who’s had a positive experience with this sort of thing.

My inbox has seen an increase in these emails over the past few weeks.

Most of them stop sending, but the occasional note pops up after a few months to “just check in” and ask if I’d still be interested. That one also gets deleted right away.

There are A LOT of people out there more than ready to separate you from your money as part of their effort to “help you and your career”.

Do your research. Trust your instincts. If it feels fishy or seems too good to be true, it probably is. If somebody is genuinely interested in helping you, they’re not going to charge you for it or ask you to cover any “fees”.

Caveat emptor indeed, chums.

Does it have to be a light bulb?

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The title of this post is the punchline to the classic joke “How many studio execs does it take to change a lightbulb?”

In other words, “How about this other option (that probably has nothing to do with the original concept)?”

I bring this up because the struggle with developing the action-comedy spec continues, now with the added concern that too many aspects of the story are too similar to other more well-known films. That is something I’m definitely trying to avoid, hence the struggle.

It goes without saying that the last thing I want is for somebody to read this and think “This is just a ripoff of _____”, so recent brainstorming sessions have all been about coming up with alternatives that still work within the concept of the story but are also unique enough so as to feel like a fresh take.

Another key part is that the details that need this attention are a key part of the story, so if they don’t work, the rest of it more or less falls apart – which is also something I’m hoping to avoid.

I’m not crazy about how challenging this one is or how long it’s taking to develop, but I’d much rather take the time to really fine-tune things and make sure everything works on all the appropriate levels than crank something out and not be happy with it.

I also wholeheartedly accept that no matter what the final choice is, it’ll involve a lot of rewriting to accommodate it. Then again, the overall story is still a work in progress, so either way there’s a lot of writing in my future.

Despite all of this, I’m still psyched about the story and really am having fun with putting it together. It’ll be quite interesting to see what the end result is.

Re-establishing a foothold

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A bit more of progress on the outline for the action-comedy spec, including coming up with some much-needed story details.

Things had been feeling very rudderless as I struggled to figure things out, and the pressure I was putting on myself wasn’t helping. So I did the most sensible thing and took a step back with a focus on the basic foundations of the story.

What needs to happen? What building blocks have to be in place? Is there enough “there” there to make this a workable story? Would everything work the way I’m hoping it does?

I wrote out the most basic outline I could think of, including combining pre-existing plot points with potential alternates (or at least additional details), and laying things out in a “A leads to B, which leads to C, etc.” sort of way.

This resulted in a bit more clarity regarding the progression of events as well as the filling-in of a few more blanks between all of them. Having a better idea of how the path should look tends to yield better results.

It’s not a lot, and there are still many gaps to be filled, but it’s a start of sorts and it definitely helps. Just overcoming this can be considered a victory in terms of writing and confidence in the ability to move things forward.

There are a lot more steps to go, but this feels like things are getting back on track and I hope to keep the mini-momentum going.

Creativity activated

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Super-shorty post today.

Not happy with the development and what feels like a lack of progress on the new spec, so taking some time to see what I can do to rectify that. I’ve got ideas.

Wish me luck, and have a good weekend.

-quick contest update – my fantasy-comedy didn’t make Second Round for Austin. Was hoping it would, but that’s the way it goes. Back to the spec.

From the archives: If only you could eat a bad script

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Rather a tasty metaphor, no?

I’d originally planned to repost this because I liked what the topic was discussing. It became especially pertinent after reading the first line. The past repeated itself this week with my fantasy-comedy also not advancing to the quarterfinals in PAGE this year. It stung a bit – especially after an earlier draft accomplished it two years ago. But it is what it is, and I’ve gotten past it as I focus on more important stuff. In the meantime, enjoy this post from July 2016.

Before we get to the gist of today’s post, let’s address the elephant in the room: my western did not advance to the quarterfinals of the PAGE contest.

Honestly, I was a little surprised; I thought it would have done better. After a brief wallow in disappointment, I shrugged my shoulders and moved on. It’s just another one of those things over which I have no control. I still have a ton of confidence in this script and might submit again next year. Also waiting to see how it fares in Austin and the Nicholl.

True, it was a rather lousy way to start the weekend, but over the next couple of days, I managed to redirect my focus, which included a nice long run that involved traversing the Golden Gate Bridge, and attempting something I’ve always wanted to try:

Making a pineapple upside-down cake (from scratch, naturally).

Guests were coming over for dinner, and I’d made pies for them before. But this time,  I wanted to try something entirely new and preferably a little challenging. I’d say this falls into both categories.

I scoured the internet for an ideal recipe, found one to my satisfaction, and followed the directions to the letter. The result? It looked like it was supposed to, and that’s where the similarities end. A little too sweet and the center was still kind of goopy. Nevertheless, my guests still liked it, and K & I split the last piece after they left. Not bad for a first attempt.

Why did it not turn out the way I expected? A lot of reasons. The oven’s a piece of junk. It didn’t bake long enough. The ingredients and the amount of them probably need to be tweaked. No matter what, I know now that I can adjust all of these next time and get closer to the results I seek.

Except for the oven. It will forever remain a piece of junk until it dies. Which can’t happen soon enough. But I digress.

Notice all of the comparisons you could make between baking and writing a script? Trying something new and long-sought-after. Seeking advice and guidance. Following the guidelines. Doing what I was supposed to. An okay-but-was-hoping-for-better initial result. Planning ahead on what to fix/adjust for next time.

If a less-than-determined baker ended up with the cake I made, they’d probably denounce the whole process, give up entirely and probably buy pre-made stuff at the supermarket. But we’re made of sterner stuff. We hit a snag or some kind of unforeseen development, and we compensate as best we can. We learn what not to do next time. Sometimes you end up with something jaw-droppingly amazing, and sometimes you end up with something totally inedible.

With this whole experience behind me, I can now focus on projects of the immediate future, which includes another round of editing and revising a script, and making a pie or two for a dinner party this coming weekend.

It’s my intention to have the results of both of these undertakings be totally and utterly irresistible when they’re done and ready to serve.