Is your story worth fighting for?

Will Kane knows what it's like to feel like one against everybody else
Follow Will Kane’s example (except without all the shooting and stuff)

The rewrite of my mystery-comedy has been put on hold because I’m teaching myself how to write a mystery, or at least how to be better at writing one. I bought a book and everything.

But I also don’t want to not be writing, so I’ve also decided to return to the low-budget comedy. It’s been a while since I’d read the outline, but it holds up more than I thought. Sure, it needs work and there are some spots where it says something like “SOMETHING FUNNY HAPPENS!,” but overall, I like it (hold onto that statement for just a bit).

Several months ago, I’d had the opportunity to have a brief chat with a writer who specializes in comedy. He asked what I was working on, so I pitched him the idea. He liked the concept, but was quick to poke holes in the story vis-a-vis the logline (which has since been rewritten), and didn’t care for how I had the story play out (as delivered in my thumbnail presentation).

“X should happen instead of Y! Having THIS CHARACTER connect with THAT CHARACTER is all wrong!” Plus some additional words to that effect.

Gosh.

I wasn’t expecting a standing ovation, nor did I expect it to be proclaimed a work of genius, but if this guy didn’t care for what I had, did that mean it was doomed before I even started?

Nope. Quite the contrary.

Several key things I had to remember:

-this was his opinion. One person, which is not a majority.

-his sense of humor and comedy stylings could be totally different from mine.

-it’s a work-in-progress in its very early stages. The end result will most likely be very different from the starting one.

-I think it’s a good story. Always have, always will. I have no intention of abandoning it or making any significant changes so as to gain his approval. I’m not writing this for him.

Every writer spends a lot of time coming up with story ideas, and then developing them as far as they’ll go. Stick to your guns if you believe in your story, but don’t totally block out advice and suggestions. Use what you think works best. Remember – this is YOUR story. If you think it works, then by all means, do what you can to make things happen.

It’s great when you get encouragement, but you’ll also encounter a lot of naysayers (“I don’t get it/like it, so it must be a bad idea.”). It’s all subjective. Everybody likes different things. If you believe wholeheartedly in your story, you have to do your absolute best to get the rest of us to be just as interested in reading it.

Just make sure to tell that story in the most entertaining, original and professional way possible. That’s all.

Climbing back in the saddle. Again.

It helps to have a patient horse
It helps to have a patient horse

The results are in, and it’s not looking good.

Out of the 100+ query letters I sent out last month, a whopping total of 2 managers asked to read the western. One is a larger, more well-known place that has asked for my scripts before but has a reputation for non-responsiveness, so not much hope there.

The other was a smaller one-person operation who seemed very interested. I sent the requisite follow-up email, but was told that they “unfortunately didn’t respond as strongly as I would have liked,” and wished me good luck with it.

I hate this part of this process.

Was I upset and disappointed? Of course.

Was my confidence and belief in my writing ability shaken to its very core? Yup.

Was I convinced that I was pursuing a foolish dream and that things would never work out? Pretty much.

Jump ahead to today. I’m still upset and slightly disheartened, but intent on movin’ forward. Giving up continues to NOT be an option.

I’ve revised the letter, have my previous list of email addresses, plus a new one, so a new round of queries is forthcoming. I also learned after sending out the previous batch that the industry for the most part shuts down in August, so it’s more than likely that those queries were never even seen, let alone read.

All I can do is send this latest round out and hope for the best. I’ll distract myself by writing a lot, but also know that a few weeks after they’re sent, every time an alert of a new email pops up, I’ll secretly hope it’s one of the many recipients saying “I’d like to read that.”

Chances are it won’t be, but it doesn’t hurt to think positive thoughts.

Fingers, as always, remain firmly crossed.

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.

Oh, the possibilities! – OR – It’s nice to have choices

Either way, I win
Either way, I win

With the books officially closed on my western spec (unless someone of influence wants to develop it further? Operators are standing by!), a certain question has been popping up on a regular basis:

“So what are you working on next?”

(This is a close relation of that other inevitable question: “What else have you got?”)

Any writer should have an answer ready. Doesn’t matter if it’s one script or three or ten. I’ve said it before, but it can’t be emphasized enough. The more you can build up your arsenal of material, the better.

Not only does this give you more scripts, but it also means you’ve been doing a lot of writing (and rewriting), which can only help improve your skills and the quality of your material. One of the things I’ve noticed from doing rewrite after rewrite is that each subsequent draft is a little better than its predecessor.

I try to always be working on something. Whenever I’d take a break from the western, my focus would shift to another script. Results always varied; sometimes I’d get farther along than expected, or not as far as I’d wanted, or just kept going until I got to a point I considered enough. It was all prep work for each individual project, with the underlying message of “it’s all part of the process”.

So where am I now?

I’m feeling fortunate in that I’ve got several scripts to choose from, some of which have multiple drafts, whereas others are still just an outline-in-progress. No matter where they are in the development stage, the heavy lifting is already out of the way in that they exist.

All of my options are viable (to me), each for its own reasons. Do I want to go high-concept or low budget? Comedy or popcorn adventure? There is no wrong answer.

I haven’t made a final decision as to which script I’ll work on next, but whichever one it does end up being, it’ll be the right choice for me, and I’m pretty psyched about getting started on it.

Again.

What makes the muskrat guard his musk?

My medal is metaphorical
My medal is metaphorical, yet still bulky

The rewrite’s done, and all of a sudden, I’m nervous. Like, ridiculously so.

I’ve sent scripts out before, but this time something is making it a lot different.

A fear of failure.  Of rejection.

What if nobody likes it?

What writer hasn’t gone through this?

But as I tell K every once in a while – the only way I could fail is if I stopped trying, and I don’t plan on doing that either.

It may be that after all this time, the idea of possibly being that much closer to actually achieving my goal is kind of overwhelming.  This is where that internal voice kicks in.

Do I have what it takes? Is the script just about ready to be sent out?

Damn straight. I’ve got a lot of confidence in this script and my writing ability.

I can and will do what it takes to make this work.

I wrote this a little over 3 years ago after finishing the final draft of my fantasy-adventure. That script went on to some moderate contest success and got me a manager.

Now I’m getting ready to repeat the whole thing with the western. I like to think my writing’s improved since then, but every word still applies today.

The fear never really goes away. I’ll always be nervous when I send out a script, but I’d be rather be nervous sending out a script than not even trying.

I’ve been doing this for quite a while, and each draft gets me a little bit closer to reaching that goal. Is this the time that it finally happens? I certainly hope so, and if not, I’ll just keep trying.

For all the fear and trepidation I feel during this part of the process, it’s my drive to want to succeed that always wins out and keeps me going.

And a very hearty thanks to everybody who’s helped me along the way to tell this story about a girl and her train.

Can’t wait to show you what comes next.