Embracing my inner Stan

“I used to be embarrassed because I was just a comic book writer while others were building bridges or going on medical careers. Then I realized that entertainment is one of the most important things in people’s lives. I feel if you’re able to entertain, you’re doing a good thing.”

That’s a quote from Stan Lee that has been ringing true a little more often for me lately.

When another writer asks me “What do you write?” or “What do you like to write?”, my go-to answer is “fun, popcorn adventures.”

Serious dramas, character studies, and examination of the human condition just aren’t my thing. If I can give you 100ish minutes of pure escapism, I’m a happy guy.

“Write something you would want to watch” I always tell newer writers. I go to the movies to have fun and enjoy myself, so that’s what I like to write.

I’m a member of an online writing group, and I always felt very self-conscious when I’d submit pages. Other members were PAGE and Nicholl-winning writers, and I’ve got an animated story about a young witch, her talking cat, and the state of New Jersey. Who wouldn’t feel a bit silly about that when other scripts are about dysfunctional families and dissolving marriages?

Interesting side note to that: some readers had a tough time adjusting to the fact that it was an animated story, while others marveled at how fun and creative it was.

I think it was going to Austin that helped me turn the corner on how I viewed the overall picture.

When you get together with a whole lot of other writers, discussing your script is an automatic part of the equation. I was quite proud of how my script had turned out – both as a script and for the competition, and wanted to convey that pride while talking about it. So I did. When somebody would say “What’s your script about?”, I’d smile and tell them without a moment’s hesitation.

It’s safe to say just about every reaction was a positive one. Each person thought it sounded great, plus a few “I’d like to read that”.

My current project is a rewrite of the sci-fi adventure. Similar kind of situation. Scientists. Monsters. Diabolical plots. Typical me kind of stuff. It’s still very rough, but you can see my enthusiasm for it on the page. Why not take it and run with it, head held high, so to speak?

I submitted the first ten pages to the online writing group, pitching it exactly how I wanted to, including the apt descriptor “This is a fun, silly romp.” I wanted the other members to know what kind of story they should be expecting. Hopefully some of them keep that in mind. It’ll be interesting to see what the reactions are.

Like Stan Lee says in his quote, I used to downplay what my scripts were about because I thought people might look down their noses at that sort of thing. But after seeing how others have reacted to my scripts and what I like to write, I realize that a lot of the time people want to hear that sort of thing. They want to be entertained.

There’s just as much of a demand for fun popcorn escapism as there is for serious drama.

I can appreciate the latter, but am much better suited for writing the former.

And in keeping with the spirit of the post – Excelsior!

The other three little words

My, what a rough week this was.

PAGE semifinalists and Nicholl quarterfinalists were announced. My script was not on either list.

Disappointing, especially since I think it’s a pretty solid script.

At least that’s what my readers say.

But like you always hear: it’s all subjective.

Your first thought when you get that notification that includes “Unfortunately,…” is probably “I must be a really shitty writer”.

Not so. I’ve read a lot of scripts of exceptional quality that also didn’t advance, including one by a previous Nicholl top 10 finalist.

There is absolutely no way to tell how a script is going to do in a contest. You send it, hope for the best, then move on to whatever the next thing is.

After I’d posted about not advancing, more than a few writers responded in kind.

“Me too.”

“Another swing and a miss.”

“Whoo! My eighth consecutive year of not advancing.”

It’s taken me a lot of time to accept that while it’s great to see your script do well in a contest, when it doesn’t do well is no absolute reflection on you as a writer.

Again: it’s all subjective.

One writer I know was frustrated after years and years of their script never doing well in a contest. That script then went on to place in the top 50 for the Nicholl.

This isn’t to say that your script couldn’t do with a little more work. That’s really up to you.

If you’re among the horde of writers whose contest journey has come to an end, give yourself a minute to vent and air those grievances, then decide what you’re going to do about it.

Is your script as solid as it can be, or would it be worth your while to give it another read to see if anything could use some tweaking?

Something to also keep in mind: winning a contest can be a stepping stone to a career as a writer, but it’s not the only way. A script can not do well in a contest but still attract the attention of somebody interested in making it.

As another writer put it: “I’d rather write a script that would be a good movie, than one that wins contests.”

At this point I don’t know what my plan is for next year’s contests. I’m too busy working on scripts to worry about it.

Which reminds me of another three important little words:

Don’t. Stop. Trying.