A thought that never truly goes away

Just a little self-evaluation to pass the time
Just indulging in a little self-evaluation

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.

Or at least somebody tells me.

This is feedback?

I'M LOUD, WHICH MEANS I'M RIGHT!
I’M LOUD, WHICH MEANS I’M RIGHT!

Oh, the hell and agony I must endure so as to spare you, my loyal reader, from hopefully having to experience the same thing.

Once again, your humble author has been savaged by the sharp knives of online criticism. This time around, it was regarding the logline for my mystery-comedy.

Perhaps I’d been lulled into a sense of false security by recently receiving positive feedback on it from other sources. Feeling buoyed by those encouraging comments, I posted the logline somewhere else. Even though I like how it currently reads, that doesn’t mean it can’t still be improved.

Ever notice that a lot of online forums are usually organized with the intention/suggestion/guideline that participants “offer up helpful advice” to those seeking it? More on that in a minute.

There was one positive response, which was quickly shoved aside by one of a more…negative nature.

Among the highlights:

“…probably one of the worst concepts I’ve ever heard.” (*Ahem* PIXELS?)

“Maybe if it was written for 5-year-olds…” (because that hasn’t worked for Disney)

“That’s how hokey your entire concept comes across as. Sorry, but I think it’s truly dreadful. (sad face emoji)” (So glad they threw the emoji in or I would have totally missed their point.)

Younger-writer Me would have not taken these comments well. Present-day Me laughed my fucking head off.

You don’t like it? Fine. Makes no difference to me. But why all the hate and insults? All I’m reading are the thoughts of a bitter asshole who doesn’t understand the term “constructive criticism”.

If your overall message is simply “Your idea sucks, and now I’m going to shit all over it!” then what’s the point of even saying anything? Do you think your vitriolic rant is going to make me suddenly stop working on it?

There were so many ways I wanted to respond, and came really close to doing it several times, but instead opted to just stay silent. No matter what I said, it would probably be misconstrued and more than likely start an unnecessary battle of words. Not worth it.

Remember that little guideline for the group regarding “helpful advice”? How exactly does anything that was said do that? Anybody can say they don’t like something, but at least give a valid reason why. Another member chimed in that “you have to take the comments if you post”. I agree, but that means the comments have to be worth taking in the first place.

A friend offered up this reminder: “When someone criticizes, it needs to be specific and constructive. Otherwise, it has no value.” I’d say that’s pretty accurate, and definitely applies here.

An even more amazing aspect to this whole thing is that this is the exact same person who issued a similar diatribe over the logline for my western last year. As far as my research can tell, they are still a self-proclaimed “director, producer, screenwriter and script consultant,” although without any identifiable credits or internet presence.

The whole purpose of providing feedback is to use your knowledge to help the other person make their something better, and in a way that’s not insulting or belittling. In this case, neither happened.

This was just an angry opinion showing a total lack of knowledge, help and encouragement, and definitely could not be considered feedback in any true sense of the word.

Don’t let this cool, calm & collected exterior fool you…

...because this is what's inside
…because this is how I’m feeling on the inside.

The hunt for representation is underway. Again.

But this round feels quite different.

Maybe this is the experience talking, but my best guess would be that it’s from taking my time and reminding myself there’s absolutely no need to rush through it. These folks aren’t going anywhere, so taking a few more days to properly prepare won’t make much of a difference.

But it is making a huge difference for me.

I’ve got two exceptionally long lists of names and emails, but each is several years old, which requires some admittedly exhausting investigating through multiple levels of IMDBPro into how accurate and up-to-date the information is. Don’t have a subscription to it? You should.

Time, determination, patience and persistence are the four essentials in this scenario.

A lot of time has been spent tracking down where some of those names have ended up. While most are still at the same organization, a good many have moved on. Some to new places, some who’ve gone out on their own, and, from what I can gather, some have totally abandoned ship (including one guy who fell into the deep end of the cliche pool and now sells real estate).

My favorite one so far has been the manager who passed away several years ago, yet is still listed. Just their name and nothing else. I’ve no doubt that at this very moment, somewhere out there, a query email is working its way to them.

The last couple of times I sent out a massive wave of queries, it was in a very rushed and impatient way. “This has to go out NOW!” After finding an email address, I’d immediately cut-and-paste the body of the letter and hit ‘send’. Nothing else. I’d estimate about 75% of them went through, while the remaining 25% came back as ‘undeliverable’ or “address not found”. Those would be immediately dismissed. Over the next few days and weeks, maybe a few responses would trickle in; say 1 for every 10-15 sent. Not the best of returns.

But again, this time it’s different as I’m trying to be been much, much more thorough. Do they even accept queries? What sort of material do they specialize in? Sending to someone who specializes in horror would be a waste of time for both of us. When was their last project? Have I heard of any of their projects? How many clients do they have? What are some of their clients known for? (One place lists Rod Serling(!) as their top client. Interpret that however you want.) They still use Hotmail? Is that even still a thing?

So while I spend part of my time developing a workable list of query letter recipients, I’m also focusing on assembling the actual letter that will be sent. Type ‘screenwriting query letter’ in any reputable search engine, and you get page upon page of links to articles, columns, blogposts and so on. There are countless opinions about what should and should not be in there. Pay attention to those. I tend to favor short and to the point, but effective enough that it gets you noticed and hopefully piques their interest.

It’s pretty likely I’ll crank out a few drafts of this as well before finding one that I think works best.

Like writing the script itself, it ain’t easy. None of this is. But it’s what I have to do in order to make things happen and move ’em forward.

(And if anybody knows a manager they’d recommend or think might be interested in taking a look at my stuff, feel free to point them in this direction. Much obliged.)

Shoulders once again shrugged

A couple of months ago I had the good fortune to attend the Great American PitchFest in beautiful downtown Burbank. Overall, it was a great experience and I’m very thankful I did it. I’d pitched the fantasy-adventure and the western to several productions companies and managers. Responses were generally favorable, including compliments on my pitches and a few requests.

I was feeling pretty positive about it as a whole, but as experience has taught me, opted to hold off on writing the job resignation letter and chilling the bottle of victory champagne. Just because the scripts were requested didn’t mean anything would happen.

And of course, I was right.

While I still haven’t heard from a handful of them (and honestly, don’t expect to), the rest have politely passed.

Slightly disappointing, but definitely not heartbreaking. This is the nature of the business. C’est la vie, baby.

In fact, I don’t bear any of them any ill will whatsoever. Their interests were piqued, they checked it out and decided it just wasn’t for them. Nothing else. I think it’s saying something that I got that far.

So although those temporary thoughts of “Whoo! Moving forward!” may have been temporarily scuttled, this just reinforces my commitment to making it happen. I’m of the opinion that both scripts are of high caliber (and the continuing polish/rewrite of the western will make it even more so), and am certainly not going to sit around feeling sorry for myself. I’d rather be productive and keep trying to get better.

Any writer who goes into this and thinks it’ll be easy is in for a very rude awakening. The amount of time and effort it requires just to get good at it, let alone good enough that you can compete with those who actually do it for a living, is overwhelming to begin with. There will be many, many crushing disappointments before you even reach what could be considered a significant victory, so you learn to roll with the punches. You have to. If you don’t handle disappointment well, you’re in the wrong business.

As I’ve said in many a conversation, there isn’t anything I’d rather be doing than writing. It may take longer than I’d like for good things to happen, but there’s no way I’m slowing down. This is just another pothole on a very long road.

So on that note, pedal to the metal and full speed ahead.

Feeling triumphant, if only for a few minutes

By the time you finish reading this sentence, I'll already have gotten back to work
By the time you finish reading this sentence, I’ll already have gotten back to work

Well, it’s done. I got to type in those glorious words “Fade Out”, thus bringing to a close the massive rewrite of the western.

The script now clocks in at a respectable 114 pages. No reason a few more can’t be trimmed with some diligent editing and polishing.

Normally this would be the part where I’d say how long this has taken, but to be honest, I really don’t know. I haven’t been keeping track. Two months, maybe? Something like that.

But the important thing is that I got it done. What a grand feeling of accomplishment. It’s quite nice.

All that work and effort has paid off, resulting in a pretty solid piece of material to show for it (if I do say so myself).

As much as I’d like to sit back, rest on my laurels and enjoy the moment a little longer, there’s still a lot of work to be done. Once this latest round of editing is done, the call goes out to friends and trusted colleagues for feedback, which will no doubt result in more editing and polishing. And then it’s on to shelling out some bucks for professional notes.

From there? I don’t know. Contests? Query letters? That stage is pretty far down the line, so not too worried about it just yet. Right now it’s all about making the script as bulletproof as it can be.

During this entire time, when the opportunities present themselves, work resumes on the low-budget comedy, the mystery-comedy and possibly the pulpy adventure. Feeling confident at least one, possibly two, could be done by the end of the year.

All part of the never-ending process.