The hazardous journey down Contest Road

Flat tire in formal attire
A savvy driver is prepared, no matter what they encounter

I’ve lost count of how many screenwriting contests there are. A whole lot, I believe. But out of all of them, only a handful actually mean anything in terms of helping build one’s career.

The Nicholl. Austin. PAGE. There are others of high prominence, but these three are the ones that really matter.

This isn’t to slight the smaller or lesser-known contests, but someone who’s a finalist in the Nicholl probably has a better shot at being able to use that to their advantage than, say, the Greater Cedar Rapids Screenplay Contest (not that such a thing actually exists, but you get the idea).

As evidenced on my My Scripts page, I’ve done moderately well in some of the bigs, but have also totally fizzled out. I’ve also been fortunate to have done well in some of the second-tier competitions. Every year yields different results.

Sometimes the first thoughts that race through your head when you read that email from the contest organizer that includes the word “Regretfully” somewhere near the beginning makes you think “Does this mean my writing is lousy?”

No. It means it didn’t click/connect with the reader or readers from that contest. A lot of the contests give you at least two reads. Sometimes I’ll receive praise from the first reader, only to have the second one not like it, thereby stopping it in its tracks. Or both readers like it, but not enough to advance it to the next round. Nothing I can do about it. C’est la vie, and better luck next year.

And even if you win, or at least place highly, in a high-profile contest, that’s no guarantee to getting work. I know a Nicholl finalist who had zero traction with their script, as opposed to the PAGE winner who is now super-busy with assigments.

I know writers who’ve never won a contest, and they got work. I know writers who’ve never entered a contest at all, and they’ve gotten work. How? Because the writing wasn’t just good; it was really, really good. That’s what it comes down to. That and somebody liked it enough to want to do something with it or with the writer.

A few years ago, I was a lot more likely to enter almost any contest. And there weren’t even as many then as there are now. Time and experience has shown me that, yes, it’s a nice validation to get that certificate from that small contest you’d never heard of before you entered, but how much did it actually do to help you get your career going?

A lot of contests offer “industry exposure” to the winners, and you do get that – to a point, and it’s probably a safe bet not to the extent you imagine. Your script might get checked out by maybe a handful of reps and production companies, and even then there’s still no guarantee anybody will be interested. I’m speaking from experience on this one.

Contests are just one of the ways in. As someone who’s in it for the long haul, I’ll continue to try my luck with the big ones while also exploring other avenues. Whatever it takes.

And no matter what contest you may have entered this year, I wish you the best of luck. Except for the ones I did. Then all bets are off and it’s every person for themselves.

A writer does what again?

typewriter
Just another schmuck with an Underwood

In case you haven’t been following me on social media (which is easily rectified), I’ll post semi-daily updates regarding my progress in writing the latest draft of my current spec.

(Incidentally, just passed the page-75 plot point on the pulp spec)

After I post an update, my network of fellow creatives will offer up their very supportive and encouraging comments.

“Great job!”

“Keep going!”

“I don’t know how you do it!”

I do, and it’s actually a pretty simple formula: I try to write every day. Even if it ends up being just a short amount of time, or all it yields is a single page. Sure, sometimes life gets in the way and I’m not able to write, but there are definitely more days of writing than not-writing.

Writing scripts (preferably my own, but I’m not picky) is what I want to do. More than anything. So I continuously work at it, trying to improve my skills and produce quality material. It’s the only way I know how to get there.

Some might say I currently have the luxury of just writing specs. No pressure. No deadlines. No conflicting sets of notes. But I don’t really see it that way. I treat this like a job because I’m working on making it my job.

To reinforce the whole “marathon, not a sprint” concept, maintaining a daily regiment of writing helps me prepare and get in shape for when it’s time to take on the real thing.

And when that actually happens, I’ll be able to keep up.

(Speaking of which, I’ll be running my first half-marathon of the year this weekend. Once again hoping to hit the 1:55 mark, but breaking 2 hours will be just fine and dandy.)

Mini Bulletin Board time!

-Writer/friend-of-the-blog Mark Sanderson is proud to announce the release of his new book A Screenwriter’s Journey to Success. Mark is also an accomplished screenwriter and script consultant.

-Script consultant/literary manager Whitney Davis will be teaching an 8-week Introduction to Screenwriting course through the Writing Workshops Dallas program beginning on April 4th. Even though the course will be conducted in Dallas, attending via Skype is also an option. Bonus for attending in person – Whitney’s homemade cookies.

Psst! Your desperation is showing

liz
Liz knew the value of taking one’s time

Seeing as how I post links to this blog on a few social media and networking sites, it’s inevitable that word about it will continue to spread across the globe (even more than it already has, apparently).

So along with global recognition (which is always nice), this also attracts attention from those with an idea for a story, a dream of hitting it big, and pure, unbridled ambition.

Those that have all of the above seem to be actively seeking me out, as I have once again received an out-of-the-blue request/plea for some screenwriting assistance.

A writer asked if I would take a look at their script, adding that English wasn’t their first language, so that part might still need some work. Even though this was their first script, they felt it was ready to go and if I liked it enough, they’d be willing to share the rights or even give full ownership to me.

They also included the logline and a few personal details about really, really wanting to move to the US so they can make it in the film industry.

One of my guiding tenets is to never insult or belittle somebody, nor do I have any desire to ridicule somebody for pursuing their dream. Tough as it was, I felt I had to explain a few hard truths to them.

-First, about the script itself. “Everybody’s first script is always bad. Always. I say this not to be discouraging, but from experience (both mine and from others). DO NOT expect me to read it and say it’s perfect, because it won’t be. When you’re starting out, you have to realize what you don’t know and be willing to learn from your mistakes.”

-About wanting to move to the US. “It takes a VERY long time to have anything happen. Focus on studying and improving your craft. Fortunately, that’s something you can do at home. Join some online writing groups. Network. Be friendly. Don’t just start with “Hi. Can you help me?” Nobody likes that.”

This was their response:

“Thanks for getting back to me. I really appreciate your advise. I know that everything you said is true. So I understand. I know you are trying to help me. I know it’s bad to ask help at the first moment I get to know someone. So I won’t do that again. I’m really grateful that I got to know you. Thanks again for your support.”

If you’re like me, you totally get where this person is coming from. They want it so bad it hurts. And that this is something that takes an excrutiatingly long time for anything to even happen just makes it that much harder to endure.

We all know this is not an easy or overnight process; there are no short cuts or quick fixes. It takes time to learn how to this right, so patience is an absolute necessity. But if you’re willing to put in the time and effort, then you’ll eventually start to see results.

A long (train) ride comes to an end

caboose
Fittingly apropos

A good number of years ago, I came up with an idea for a script.

“Write something you would want to see.” This definitely fell into that category.

There were so many angles and aspects to it I found appealing. The concept kept drawing me in, compelling me to tell the story in the most entertaining way possible.

To say I’ve really thrown myself into it during all this time would be an absolute understatement.

I couldn’t even tell you how many iterations and drafts this story has gone through; let’s just say a whole freakin’ lot.

Notes? I’ve probably received enough to make two books, or at least a really long pdf. Some were good, some weren’t, and some seemed to exist in an alternate dimension where opposites are the norm.

I’d finish a draft, thinking, “Okay. This is IT.” And if you’ve been following this saga, you know how it turned out each time.

There were lots of times of feeling totally burned out, thinking there was nothing else to do. Or receiving comments like “Why keep messing with it? It’s good enough as it is.”

But something kept nagging at me, saying “This can still be better. Keep going.”

So I did. My faith in the story was still strong. I knew I could make this work.

The tweaking/fine-tuning continued, aided by a few more sets of notes courtesy of very qualified readers. My red pen was working on overdrive. Cut this. Move this. Switch these around. Expand on this. Changes and fixes were made, until…

“The End” had once again been reached. But this time it felt different. I won’t say “complete”, but you get the idea.

I’ve been extremely fortunate in connecting with a lot of exceptionally talented writers over the years, and there’s one whose critiquing ability I hold in very high regard. I asked them to look over the script, adding that this was for the most prestigious screenwriting contest of them all.

The last time they read it was two years ago, so there was some extra intrigue regarding what they’d think of this draft. Approval from one’s peers plays a bigger-than-expected part in helping a writer develop.

They liked it.

A lot.

I’ve been writing screenplays for quite a while, always striving to improve both my skills and the quality of my material, all as part of the effort to become a working writer. Reading their notes helped solidify my belief that this could actually happen.

Final preparations are being made to submit the script to the aforementioned prestigious screenwriting contest. Is this draft better than previous ones? Definitely. Has its chances for this contest improved? God, I hope so.

Even if nothing happens with this or the other high-profile contests, I still have a script I consider well-written and exceptionally entertaining. At this point in time, I don’t think there’s any reason to do any more work on it. So now it enters into that category of “calling card scripts”, ready to be sent out at a moment’s notice.

In the meantime, my attention is currently being split between several other projects in various stages of development. And based on how much my writing improved working on this script, I’ll speculate that the quality of these newer ones might just end up being pretty darned good.

 

A label I wear proudly

sturges
We work wherever, whenever, and however we can

I can’t remember exactly where I saw it, but a couple of days ago there was a comment in a screenwriting forum that read something like “All you wannabe dreamers are just wasting your time”.

Oh, how I adore the encouraging words of total strangers.

But in all seriousness, I take issue with that statement. Nothing wannabe about me at all. I’m a total dreamer, through and through, and I don’t see this as wasting my time.

Far from it.

I think up stories and put ’em down on paper, and I really like that I can do that. A lot. (So much to the point that I think I could actually make a living at it. Here’s hoping, anyway.)

Other dreamers express themselves using any form of different methods. They’ll paint, draw, sculpt, compose, act, or sing. And it’s probably correct in assuming they get the same joy out of doing it that I do.

Is everybody good at it? No. Does that mean they shouldn’t even try? Of course not. We do it because we enjoy it.

One consequence about being a dreamer is that there will always be somebody like that anonymous naysayer. You don’t have to listen to them. It’s a lot easier to tear someone down than it is to build them up. That person may have had been bad experiences trying to do the same thing, and if they couldn’t do it, then nobody else can (or so the theory goes).

But you should also be realistic. Not everybody’s going to create The Most Amazing Thing Ever. Don’t let that stop you from trying. Speaking from my own perspective, even though I’ve made some forward progress for both skills and career, it’s taken a long time, with the number of setbacks and disappointments being significantly higher, but despite all that, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing. Better to put myself through all of that rather than to have given up and not tried at all.

What can I say? It’s the dreamer in me.

So here’s to all of us dreamers. Long may our imaginations and the ability and methods in which we express them reign in an effort to make the world a slightly more enjoyable place.

Oh, and screw the naysayers.