A lot of my time lately has been jotting down ideas – and lots of ’em – about the new spec. Some random, some of a “this leads to that, which in turn results in this” nature.
As I recently said on social media, it’s a big beautiful jumbled mess, and I’m absolutely thrilled about it.
Just a few weeks ago I was stressed there wasn’t enough to the story, but then the gears started turning and the ideas started coming, and it was off to the races.
Since then, I must have filled in at least half a dozen pages in the notebook for this project with every single thing that popped into my head about it. Even more surprising is how much of it came from out of the blue – all kinds of stuff that never would have occurred to me before. Can’t really say that some kind of ‘on’ switch was tripped, but something was ignited somewhere.
Not only are ideas covering aspects of the story making themselves known, but so are ideas about the things you don’t see onscreen – emotional beats, character development, and so forth. It begs the question – what took it so long to show up?
There’s a lot to go through, and confidence levels are running high that there’s more on the way. There’ll be a lot to sift through to figure out what to keep and what to put aside for potential use at a later time (or another script).
This may be moving at a slow pace, but it’s definitely starting to take shape. What that shape is remains to be seen, but I like it.
My father passed away last weekend. One of the fondest memories I have of him is recounted in this post from March 2016, and is still relevant today.
Enjoy.
Something just a little different and of a somewhat personal nature today.
In the summer of 1982, I went to see Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.
With my dad.
At a night-time show (probably the 7:30 one).
As a thunderstorm raged outside (typical south Jersey summer weather conditions).
It was a great night.
All of these elements combined to make what was one of the most memorable times I’ve ever had at the movies. What made it that way? I can’t say specifically, but it just was.
It’s still something I will truly never forget. If I ever get to meet Nicholas Meyer, I’ll make a point of telling him that.
Maybe someday a dad and his son or daughter will go to see a movie I wrote, and that child will experience the same sensation I did: the creation of a memory they cherish for the rest of their life.
(Whether or not they tell me about it in their adult years is beside the point, but I wouldn’t object.)
What writer wouldn’t want to have their work be the basis for something like that?
And now I’m a dad who enjoys going to the movies with my child. Could history repeat itself and we see a movie, and we have a great time, and it’s something she’ll remember for the rest of her life?
So far, it hasn’t happened yet (as far as I know).
Over the past few weeks, as part of group Zoom calls and one-on-one discussions, I’ve discussed with other screenwriters the frustration with how things are going for the writing, establishing/maintaining a career, and just the overall experience. And the current writers strike ain’t helping much, either. Sometimes all you can do is listen and offer encouragement and moral support. It might not be much, but it can still make a difference. It also reminded me of this post from August 2019.Enjoy.
Trying to make it as a screenwriter is a tough choice to begin with. It’s a long, drawn-out process that takes a long time before any significant results can be achieved. Sure, there are exceptions, but for the most part, it remains a marathon, not a sprint.
And that also means there’s going to be A LOT of heartache and disappointment along the way, and that can really take its toll on you. Not to sound too New Age-y, but all that negative energy can do significant damage to your confidence and self-esteem.
“This is never going to work.”
“I can’t do this.”
“Why do I even bother?”
If you’ve never said or thought any of these things, I’d love to know how in the world you managed to accomplish that and still call yourself a screenwriter.
Many’s the time I’ve seen comments on a public forum from another writer that echo these sentiments, or had them send me a private note saying something similar.
And I feel for them – whole-heartedly. I’ve been that writer thinking those thoughts a lot, too.
Do I wish I could help them out in any capacity? Without a doubt.
Even though it may not be much, I’ll offer up whatever support or encouragement I can. Don’t underestimate the power or effectiveness of telling somebody you’re in their corner. It makes quite the difference knowing you’re not alone during this tumultuous journey.
I once got a note from a writer I barely knew. They knew a writer I knew, and had seen some of my postings online. We were both semi-finalists in a prestigious contest, and it was the day the finalists were being announced.
For reasons totally unknown to me, they contacted me, asking if I’d received any kind of update. I hadn’t.
“Having a total shit writing year so far so I’m clinging to anything positive ha,” was their response.
I told them I was sorry to hear that, and offered up my own frustratingly good-but-not-great batting average, along with a few words of encouragement in the vein of “much as it hurts to get thrown off, you just gotta keep getting back on the horse”.
They were in total agreement.
An hour or so later, the finalists were announced. I wasn’t one of them. But they were. Naturally, I was disappointed, but also happy for them because they had something good happen.
The takeaway here is that you’re not alone in this. Every other writer goes through it. We’re all going to have a lot of bad days, probably a lot more than the number of good days, and it can be tough to get through it, let alone come out stronger.
This is one of those added benefits to networking and connecting with other writers. You’re not just helping to develop your writing and analytical skills, you’re creating your own emotional support network.
Chances are you’ll have a stronger relationship with a small number of people; the ones you’ve interacted with, or shared scripts, exchanged notes, etc., on a more regular basis.
Don’t be afraid to reach out and tell one of them “Hey, I’m not feeling too good about this right now. Mind if I talk about it?” They’ll understand, and be supportive about it (in theory). Just being able to talk about it could help you feel a little better.
Screenwriting is complicated enough, and gets even more so when you throw all your hopes and ambition into it. Sometimes you’ll feel strong, powerful, ready to take on the world. And sometimes you’ll feel like the world’s beaten you to a bloody pulp with no hope for recovery. (Again, I’ve experienced both.)
You can’t force yourself to feel better and restore your confidence, but you can take little steps to help yourself out – at your own pace. And any help you might need is always there and easily accessible.
The past few weeks, part of my writing schedule has involved revising the outline of my animated fantasy-comedy spec. It’s been fun to develop – having a previous draft to work with really helps. The action sequences, the story, the jokes and sight gags haven’t been too difficult, but I’ve been making more of an effort to build up the emotional aspect.
This isn’t to say I’ve never included that. It just hasn’t been as prevalent in the early stages of planning and plotting process.
It’s not enough to just show the stuff that’s happening, you need to show how it’s relevant to the characters. While the plot is about the external goal (what do they want?), there’s also the importance of establishing their internal goal (what do they need?).
Sometimes the internal and external goals work together, and sometimes a character will achieve one and not the other. There’s also the tried and true “they got what they wanted, but it wasn’t what they needed” (and vice versa). It all depends on how the writer wants to the story to go.
To help myself get a better grasp of this, I’ve been reading the scripts for and watching other animated films to see how they approach it. There has also been the occasional “read a few pages of the script, then watch how it plays out onscreen”.
*helpful tip – for prime examples of incorporating emotion into story, you can’t go wrong with well-made animated films. They do a fantastic job of setting everything up as fast and efficiently as possible. Sometimes singing is involved. And as it should be with live-action, each scene manages to include advancing the characters’ emotional arc as well as the story arc.
As more than a few readers have said to me, sometimes my writing is more about what we see onscreen and not as much about what’s happening to the characters on the inside. Hopefully that won’t be the case this time around. Since I’m still outlining the story, I try to include what the emotional impact is in each scene. Does the point of the scene affect the character(s) the way it’s supposed to?
At first, this was pretty challenging, but watching how other films accomplished it, it wasn’t as daunting as I initially thought, plus the more I think about it and plan for it, it’s not as bad as I thought. It’s helping with the overall development because I’m taking that sort of detail into consideration as part of the initial planning stages, as opposed to trying to work it in later, along with avoiding a few unnecessary rewrites.
Since this is a slightly different approach for me, I’m sure it’ll be chock-full of trial and error along the way, but am fairly confident it’ll yield the results I’m hoping for.
It takes a lot of determination and persistence to make it as a screenwriter.
A LOT.
And since so many other people are trying to accomplish the same things (more or less) as you and I, the difference between good days and bad days is a vast one indeed.
We learn to take the hits and the disappointments to the point that we chalk it up to “them’s the breaks”, and move on to the next thing. It is vital that we toughen up our skin to help us survive the journey.
But let’s go back to the good days thing.
When something positive happens for us, we do not hesitate to trumpet it from the rooftops – a rooftop in the form of some kind of social media platform.
And when that happens, our network of peers and associates is just as quick to join in the celebrating. We’re practically deluged with “congrats!”, “that’s awesome!”, “well deserved!”, and the like. Speaking for myself, I really appreciate it, and make a point of returning the sentiment when appropriate.
As writers, we live and breathe using words as our craft. We write something and hope it has the desired effect. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t, and sometimes it makes a much bigger impact than you could have ever expected. (Those are particularly pleasing.)
Don’t underestimate the power of what you write. Not just for your latest script, but also when it comes to how you present yourself to the rest of the writing community.
Are you always there with a positive message? Do you think “telling ’em like it is” is the way it should be?
Sure, somebody who does well in the Nicholl or Austin is going to get all sorts of congratulatory messages, but what about somebody who came in second or made the quarterfinals in that small contest you’ve never heard of? Are you just as enthusiastic for them? Do you let them know that?
When I was just starting out, I naturally had the novice’s daydreams of “they’re going to love it!”, which of course didn’t happen. Just about every response from my queries would be along the lines of “thanks, but no thanks” (if there was a response at all), and the contest updates that most of the time start with “Unfortunately…” It’s just the way the business is. You take your lumps, move on, and try to be a better writer so you do better next time.
Anybody who’s reading this knows exactly what I’m talking about. We’ve ALL been there.
I’ve recently read the lamentations of a novice writer who hasn’t had much luck in their efforts. They’re convinced that this can only mean that they’re a terrible writer, their family isn’t supportive of them even trying, and are thereby doomed to fail no matter what, so why even try? With as much sympathy and understanding I can put into text on a screen, I (and others) have tried to explain to them that everything they mentioned, from not placing in a contest to getting a pass from a query to them feeling completely alone in this, is not unique to them. Making any kind of progress on any of those fronts won’t happen overnight.
If ever there was a time that words could make a difference for the better, this was one of them. Hopefully my comments had at least the start of the desired effect.
We’re all busting our asses trying to make it however we can in this crazy business, and any outside offering of hope or encouragement is always welcome.
So as you skim your way across the turbulent waves in the vast ocean of social media and see someone’s comment, good or bad, about how they or their writing are doing, take a second to respond.
Let them know you’re rooting for them and hoping for continued success.
You’ve been where they are and hope things get better.
You’re thrilled for them.
You’re sorry.
You’d be amazed at how effective words, especially yours, can be.
Maximum Z 