back.

Look, guys, I'm not going to say that my trip to Israel was a life changing experience. But I mean, I was physically closer to God, you know, being in what three religions claim is His favourite part of the world. Oddly enough, proximity didn't seem to affect sound quality.

Basically, I have a hard time telling people about Israel because I'm still trying to figure it out myself. I wish I could at least share some of the pictures I have right now, but I think my poor overloaded computer would fry itself out if I even approached it will the 700+ pictures I took. Soon. It is a gorgeous country.

And the last day we visited Caesarea Maritima -- on Monday I was frolicking on a Mediterranean beach -- and now I'm back to data entry and answering the phones in rainy and super gloomy Michigan. My brain hasn't come back with me, at least not right away.

But it'll have to come back, because I have a lot of work to do. V and I are about to commence a pretty rigorous rewrite on Consideration. I'd like to take another pass at The Exit Strategy and get it all dolled up for contest season (Nicholl quarterfinalists, here I come!). And, in other good news, my next project has been picked.

Back in December Script Doctor Eric, a writer and script analyst, held a mini screenwriting contest. You sent in your logline and first three pages, and Eric promised to give the top five finalists a free consult. I knew a woman who got her agent by placing in Eric's contest last year, so I thought I'd give it a try. I sent in The Exit Strategy and another rom com that I had tangled with a couple times last year, to no avail. It was a good, strong, marketable idea, the best one I had had yet -- and had probably stolen somehow from my Dad -- but I had never been able to get it off the ground. If it placed, I'd finally have the motivation to write the darn thing.

And now I have to write the darn thing.

'Cause I placed! I received the email right before I left for Israel, so it was a happy little start to my vacation. And what was even more fun was that one of my new screenwriting friends also placed! After whining and moping about how I was struggling to write, it was a nice shot of encouragement. I believe that if I can get The Exit Strategy straightened up and this rom com (tentatively titled Attachment Issues) cobbled together, I'll have the foundations of my portfolio.

And once I have stories that I am proud of, that I think are good, then I will start to plot my move to LA, to the beach and sunshine and obsessively skinny people.

romancing.

Hello, my name is Amy, and I'm a commitment-phobe.

I'm sure there's at least one boy out there -- maybe two -- going, "Yes! I KNEW it!" I'm sorry. It's not you; it's me, really. There's something about the emotional involvement of being with someone for more than twenty minutes that makes me want to leave the state. I could tell you why I'm such a cut-losses girl, but no one showed up here for that sentimental nonsense, did they?

Luckily the Hockey Player shares my trepidation about all things sappy. It took us nine months to admit to the L word to each other -- and I mean "like." [No guys, of course I don't mean 'like.' For real?] We have our one-year coming up next week, and for a while I was freaking out about it. Then I got over it. Maybe because I realized I was being dumb. Maybe because I'm just looking forward to a nice dinner out. Maybe because I'm leaving for Israel the next day and that's a great way to shake someone if you really need to.

There have been very few things I've been signed onto beyond a one year lease, but writing is one of them. I wish I could tell you how old I was when I started writing about the Island of Many-Colored Ponies, but all I know was that it was WAY before I started dating. In high school I spent as much time scribbling ideas down on napkins as I did doodling my married name in the back of my math notebook. I've turned down invitations just to get the day's writing in. Writing is, for better or worse, has been part of my identity and my future for as long as I can remember.

However, all is not well in our marriage. Times are tough. It's been feeling a bit one-sided lately, like I've been doing all the work and not getting any love back. I'm feeling neglected, ignored, and unappreciated. It's difficult to commit so much of your time and energy to something and see it go nowhere. At the end of my life will I be satisfied with the stack of screenplays in the closet, just to be able to say that I've written? Or will the monument to rejection hurt more than help? I do just fine on my own. I don't need writing. How long would you let yourself love someone without any acknowledgment? And am I taking this metaphor too far?

I know I just wrote about discipline. And I do have a project for V that I will pursue with vigorous commitment to make it the best story I can. But during the last few weeks, if I haven't wanted to write, then I haven't. And I'm going to go to Israel with my dad and my aunt and hope to have a spiritual revelation about life's purpose. I kid. I'm going to go to Israel and hope the Middle East doesn't fall into nuclear war while I'm there. I will be grateful for that divine intervention alone.

Meanwhile, the Hockey Player took me to see Star Wars in 3D this weekend, so I think I'll keep him around for a little longer. On the other hand, he doesn't get his own invitation to my best friend's wedding and I'm holding onto both the Coldplay tickets I won, but if he keeps doing what he's doing, I think his future looks good.

Discipline.

There's something sweet about procrastination.

I've basically had Draft Two of Consideration done for about a week. It needs a good scrubbing, a once over to make sure I've set up all the scenes properly, I've made all the correct changes, and my typos are all cleared up. I just haven't gotten around to it. I printed it off tonight, all 72 pages of it [how did that happen?], and I consider that an accomplishment.

I blame sweatpants. They are a complete motivation suck. Sweatpants, Words with Friends, and Downton Abbey.

I am a complete extremist when it comes to discipline. Either I have a plan and I'm sticking to it, I'm writing every day, turning down invitations from friends. Or -- or I'm not writing. At all.

However, discipline is a huge motivator for me. Not my discipline, obviously, but the discipline of others. Competition is fierce in this industry. And I know that one day I'm going to be up for an assignment against some guy [yes, it will be a guy] who has sacrificed too much so he can spend every free minute writing. And when that time comes, I don't want to be at a disadvantage just because I used to come home and put on sweatpants and Downton Abbey.

I know that I am, if anything, only a moderately talented writer. My biggest talent is my strong desire to be a writer. Writing is a war of attrition -- if I keep writing, I'll keep getting better. It may not be the fastest road -- because you know what? I really LIKE Downton Abbey! -- but sometimes, persistence is more rewarded than aptitude.

One of the highest compliments the Hockey Player ever gave me was that he thought I was fairly obsessive about writing. That glow kept me pushing through the day job and the harsh Michigan went for at least nine hours. But that's all I really have to say on the subject, because I have a 72 page script sitting next to me that needs a decent flaying.

First I am totally checking Twitter. Carson Reeves replied to me, and now I'm completely crushing.

Killing and Cutting.

I've never worked with a writing partner. I try to harvest my bff D.'s brain as often as possible, and once I got through a first act based off an idea we had, but I've never worked straight on with a writing partner.

Working with V. is the closest I've ever been to writing with a partner. We meet every week and discuss the story, I get notes, I take notes, etc. Usually I just nod and write down what he says. I need to ruminate before I give input, so usually my voice comes through just in my writing, not when we're actually discussing the script (which means that if V. disagrees with me, I'll most likely have to rewrite it).

I usually agree with the notes he gives me. Then again, he hasn't given me a ton of notes yet so I don't have much fodder to disagree with yet. But last week, he asked me to cut a scene that I liked, that I thought was necessary, at the very least, addressed a question we needed to answer. I actually didn't mind cutting the scene, as long as the protagonist had to wrestle with the question at some point.

Most of our meeting was preoccupied with that problem -- do we have to have this scene? And do we have to have this problem at all? And I thought I won. I really really thought I had proved my point.

And then he emailed and he found a way to bypass it, all together! I was disappointed. I thought the problem presented a moral and ethical conundrum that it would have been interesting to see our main character wrestle with. I wanted to test her. And I was disappointed that we weren't going to test her to that extreme.

But I said yes, I said I would cut it. Because we're shooting ultra low budget and by cutting that scene we cut a character and a location. I want to see this made and I don't want making it to be difficult. If I was writing this story as a spec, maybe I'd argue this point. Maybe I'll consider it some more, how passionate I feel about this particular problem for our character.

But this script is already over budget. I've populated it with so many characters and so many locations, I'm going to have to cut a whole bunch of scenes anyway. So, in the interest of the movie -- perhaps over the interest over the script -- I'll cut the scene and I'll barrel ahead.

FADE OUT.

At 6:58 pm (I know because the coffee shop closed at 7, and the barista was loudly and deliberating cleaning up around me) today, I typed the two most beautiful words known to screenwriters everywhere -- FADE OUT. Draft 0 of Consideration, my script assignment for V., is done.

I have spent the evening celebrating by watching TV and not caring about the drool sliding down my chin. The last two months have been some of the most productive of my writing career but also some of the most draining. I have neglected friends, sleep, and the holiday season, and I am not all that sorry. I am just tired.

No rest of the weary, though. Tomorrow I meet with V. to discuss this week's pages, and I'm sure, since it's the end of the script, the notes will run long and deep. I will give myself the rest of the night off (off to handle other responsibilities), and then Friday comes around swinging. I promised V. a draft before Christmas, but I want it to be a readable draft, a draft we can give people for notes. So this week's goal is to do a complete pass of the script with the notes he's given me during our weekly meetings. I am basically going to attempt to rewrite the script. In 5 days.

But it's ok. This script is going into production next summer, and if it costs me a little bit of sleep and a tiny bit of sanity to make it the best story I can deliver, I'll gladly count the cost. Not many writers get the chance to see their words on screen. I already got paid for this assignment, but I'm still here to earn it.

Eyes.

I don't know what working with a producer or creative exec is like on a Hollywood movie, but this is a bit of how it's worked on the script I'm writing for V.

We meet weekly (and with the exception of Thanksgiving, we've been pretty good about making this time every week). The first few weeks we did some brainstorming together, developing the characters, outlining the plot, discussing theme. Because I am not a very quick thinker (which I'll have to conquer when I move to LA, I know), I would usually just nod and take notes and go home and really flesh out the characters and story on my own time. We did character profiles and an outline and beat sheet for the first half of the script. We talked about a treatment but never did one. That was fine with me.

When we got to the actual writing, I would work on the pages during the week, email them to him the night before our meeting, and go discuss and take notes the next day. If I was surprisingly motivated, I would rework previous pages to incorporate notes and send those along as well. That happened twice. V. would give me his notes, I would argue them if I felt strongly, we'd discuss what we think happens next, and then we'd adjourn.

We started working on the story at the end of August, and as of today I'm hovering on the precipice of the Act II break. My goal is to have the script finished by next week's meeting and then do a quick run through to incorporate the notes I've gotten the past few months and have a draft 1.5 ready the following week to hand over the night before I leave for Christmas.

And then we start giving it to other people for notes.

And then we'll rewrite it.

And THEN we'll start preproduction.

It all seems very fast to me. I told V. how difficult it was to come to our meetings sometimes, nervous about what he was going to say about certain pages. I haven't shown any a 'draft zero' like this since I was in college, and then it was expected that everything we wrote was going to be rather crappy. In fact, the only people who have read any of my scripts since graduation have been family members, and none of those scripts were at 'draft zero' stage. With V. I (am beginning to) feel comfortable showing pages that are that rough, but even with a quick pass/rewrite, it goes against all my instincts to show anyone a script that's fewer than 3 or 4 drafts refined. When I personally know that there are ways I can improve and rewrite it, it's difficult to hand it over, knowing that it has problems, even just to a friend for notes.

Getting notes sometimes makes me nervous. Actually, GETTING notes doesn't make me nervous. Harsh criticism makes me nervous. Hearing that something is unfixably terrible makes me nervous. Hearing that I'm a talentless hack makes me nervous. I don't I will be receiving those "notes" this time, but there is this anxiety of hearing that, not only is the script not where it should be, but that I won't be able to be the one to get it there.

I am sharing a draft of The Exit Strategy for the first time. A film friend who's been asking to see it for about 9 months has a copy, along with a long list of questions and thoughts that I have. I was planning on rewriting it one more time before sending it to her, but then I figured it'd be nice to have someone as a sounding board for the changes I was going to implement. I love this script dearly and I know she won't be mean, but at the end of the email I asked her the big questions --

Is this story worth it? Is there any potential here? Were you invested? Were you bored? Could you see this as an (indie) movie?

Should I spend my time rewriting and rewriting and rewriting it? Or simply move on?

I texted the Hockey Player to tell him I had sent the Exit Strategy to my friend, and he responded, "Great! Now send it to a producer! If that's the next step." I said, "Rewriting is the next step."

Because 98% of the time, rewriting is always the next step.

Snow.

We had our first real snow last night. It rained all day, and then suddenly I came out of the coffee shop to see my car covered in these gorgeous fluffy flakes as if the minivan had been part of a you-grow crystal kit. I wish I had taken some pictures, because it was truly a winter wonderland.

Then I had to drive in it. Driving in the snow at night is kind of like driving through an optical illusion. Living in Michigan has some real pro/con moments.

I have crested the midpoint in my script for V. and am now hopefully barreling down the hill into Act III. We didn't have a solid plan for the second half of the script and writing it feels a little bit like driving through a snowstorm at night. I feel like I'm holding on to my ambiguous outline with the same tense relaxation that you grip your steering wheel with in bad weather. It's terrifying and you're thrilled that you're just staying on the road.

I'm feeling stressed and good -- stressed when I think about writing and good when I actually am writing. I have a (semi self-imposed?) deadline of finishing the first draft before Christmas. I am fully confident I can pull this off. I am also fully exhausted.

I basically replaced NaNoWriMo with Finish Script Now Month (FiScriNoMo?). I took a weekend to catch up with friends I hadn't seen since pre-Thanksgiving and then refocused. I've been using a lot of mantras to help keep me on task. Get words on page. In it to win it. The only way out is through.

I'm not incredibly competitive, but the thought that someone out there wants exactly what I want, the same jobs and assignments I want, and is prepping right now by putting in the time and the effort and the lonely frustrating hours at the keyboard motivates me. At the end of the day, I don't want to miss out on my dream career because I failed to prepare. That's not going to happen.

Overnight success is years in the making. And those who stay will be champions.

50,109

Oh hello.

The non-stop hellbent ride that is November is over. I have stopped buying sketchy sandwiches from coffee shops, feeling guilty about not working on my script, and exhaustion-based drooling. Thanksgiving was a hit (both in fun and to my word count), so I had to make up 16k words in 3 days. Basically, I'm a winner AND a baller. This novel is a hot mess, but there are some moments and/or characters that I'm fond of, and after I take a break I'm going to attack it with a highlighter, lift the three moments that actually work, and structure something new.

I mean, that's the plan so far.

In the meantime, I have some very specific goals (I outlined day-by-days goal about a week ago, in an attempt to productive to the max. I didn't write for the subsequent two days).

1. Finish the script for V. We are halfway through and I promised the script before Christmas. I'm confident that I can get it done. Every meeting I go into with him I'm expecting to get fired. I don't really know why I feel this way, but I have this mental picture of us sitting down, him looking at the pages quietly, and then saying, "Yeahhhh, this isn't going to work."

But not so! We had a great meeting yesterday, and he's even secured a DP already. Every time I think about him talking to someone about the film, I get a little hyperventilatey-nervous. It makes it super real. It also makes me feel a little bit famous.

2. Rewrite The Exit Strategy over Christmas break. This seems unreasonable when I say it, but I'm going to prep for rewriting all this month, reread the script, figure out the new elements, restructure, replot, reoutline. I have a week and a day off for the holidays, and I can knock through a prepped script that quickly. I think.

3. See some movies. There are some great indie films out that I want to catch, and the holidays are going to bring both popcorn flicks and award nominees. I'm down.

4. Blog about screenwriting more. The novel distraction is over. It's back to work.

Right Through.

About 5k ago I realized that I was on a dangerous road. I was leading my motley crew of four underdog characters straight into the heart of the opposition. Even if they were the most powerful, talented, amazing characters you had ever met, they were destined to lose.

It was sheer numbers.

Sometimes, in NaNoWriMo, when you've written yourself into a corner or you realize that you're going down a tangent that will never make it past the first draft, you're encouraged to write a one sentence transition --

"And then they rescued/killed/bamboozled the roommate/mob boss/Puff the Magic Dragon and found themselves back in New York City/Candy Land/a galaxy far far away."

While I was tempted to do just that, I couldn't. I've never been a writer who can jump around in her story. Even if I'm struggling for a detail, I don't just put [INSERT HENRY'S COMPANY HERE]. I pick a detail and continue. Half the time this means that I end up forgetting to go back and change the things I need to, but that's the way I do things.

I've hit a couple spots in my novel where I've thought, "This is a terrible idea. I know they say no deleting in NaNo, but clearly they had never run into an idea this abysmal. I'm about to solve the whole story/kill my main characters/introduce a dinosaur. This is really quite horrid."

But I've run with it. The only way out is through, right?

And the thing is, while running through plot points I will surely never revisit again, I've met characters and developed themes and expanded ideas that are creating the foundation of my story. When I realized I had written myself into a corner, that my ragtag band of four characters was about to storm a fortified citadel, I realized there was no way they could get in, get their friend, and get out alive. Not in a million years. I was really stressing about it, until I realized--

They don't get out. They are captured almost immediately. I mean, you'd have to be an idiot to try what they did, and it only made logical sense for them to fail. Which suddenly opened up so many questions for my characters. Was my protagonist really who she said she was? Were the other characters going to believe her anymore after this? Was she going to have any faith left in herself?

Every time I have powered through a difficult section, I have come away with useless plot but a richer story. Every time I force the story forward instead of avoiding it, I discover something new. And if that is all I get out of this month, if I have to rewrite my whole novel based on my month long investigation of these characters and their story, then I will be satisfied with NaNoWriMo, declare it a success, and then delve back in to rewriting the whole dang thing.

November?

Hey, guys.

I have so much I want to write about. So much. So little time.

I want to tell you about my script on assignment, how we're almost to the midpoint and how some days I feel like I'm writing crap and some days I start out feeling like I'm writing crap but at some obscure, undefinable moment I realize that I feel good about what I'm writing and I have for a few scenes. I want to talk about the lessons I've been learning and what it feels like when you look at a scene and realize you've implemented years of lessons and practice without even knowing it.

But we don't have time for that (but it feels good to be a gangster, that's what it feels like).

I want to tell you about the huge colossal kitchen fail I had. Guys, it was bad. And super disappointing. And yet still I managed to pull it back around to writing, because that's apparently all I think about now.

But we don't have time for that, and it's still a bit painful.

I want to tell you that if you manage your company's Twitter account, double check to make sure that you've signed back into your own before commenting on a blog or Tweeting or any such thing that can be traced back to you/them.

Really, that's a PSA I always have time for.

I want to tell you about NaNoWriMo. How I am behind because I missed a few whole days earlier this month. How I wrote a thousand words in fifteen minutes yesterday, punks, and how when I made it harder for my characters I made it a bazillion times more interesting. I want to tell you that this novel is going to need significantly more work than I expected post-November, but I think there's a pretty good chance I'll let other people read it.

But we don't have time for that, because I'm still 4,000 words behind.

I want to tell you that if you're looking for a roommate, pick someone who wears your size. It's like instantly doubling your wardrobe.

No brainer.

I want to tell you about the amazing amounts of talented people I've been meeting recently and how you should be meeting as many people as you can, even now. The other day I realized how many talented people I knew that would jump at any chance to further their career, and the amazing opportunity we have right now to do something together.

But we don't have time for that 'right now' right now, sometime after November.

I want to tell you that I haven't been this immersed in the culture and physical act of writing in so long and that I'm being immensely productive. And that the longer I do this, write ten pages of my screenplay then switch to my novel, cram as many words into fifteen minutes as I can, do nothing besides work/write/occasionally see the Hockey Player, the more I love it. Some days it sucks to be a writer. Some days it's difficult and everything comes out clunky and you're uninspired. But if I could do this all day every day, I would be over the moon.

I think I'm in love.

Word Count.

I just hit 5k. That seems very refreshing to say, and I consider it a big enough milestone that I get to take a short noveling break (even if I hit that milestone after writing in Starbucks for 10 minutes).

5k seems like a lot, except I skipped all of Wednesday to work on my script and have date night with the Hockey Player. So even if I wrap up today's word count with another 700 words, I'll still be 1,667 words behind. Have I mentioned I'm throwing a party tomorrow?

I met with my director yesterday and he asked how I was going to do it, work full time, write a screenplay, AND NaNo. I think I said something along the lines of not sleeping and stop hanging out with my friends (see above party plans). The truth is, I have no bleeding idea. I see more than one all nighter in my future, and I'm way out of practice with those.

I had high hopes for this NaNo Novel. I don't know if it's because I'm "officially" a paid writer and now I expect everything I produce to be a money maker or if because I'm just tired of writing and writing and never progressing, but I was ready to do something with this novel. And I've been telling people that too, "I'm going to e-publish this when it's done" and "Ask for a Kindle for Christmas so you can read my naaaaah-vel." (PS. I legit do what a Kindle Fire for Christmas, so whoever's paying attention to those sort of things... yeah.)

But I've been discouraged. This novel has not been shaping up. My writing is rough, awkward, and overall subpar. My characters feel unfamiliar, my world undeveloped, and my plot thinner than a high wire (the circus is in town). I'm enjoying the noveling. But I'm not sure I'm enjoying the novel.

But today we got a pep talk from Erin Morgenstern in our NaNo Mail. And she talks about ninjas and circuses and how your NaNo novel might not even be the point, but the point at which you start.

This may not be the novel I publish. It may not be good enough. But at some point along the journey, I might find myself not just writing but writing my novel, that the real story has begun and the preceding 49,000 words have just been brainstorming. Lord above, I hope it doesn't get to that, but if that's what it takes to get there, I'll do it.

And now, it's back to the novel...

Christmas and Comedy

1. The She & Him Christmas album is wonderful. Does this mean that I've already begun listening to Christmas music? Unconfirmed.

2. While Deadline Hollywood is proclaiming that "the spec market is as dead as disco," Scott Myers just reported the 84th spec sale of the year. Spec sales are up 84% from last year. So, um, yeah. Drop down the disco ball, 'cause I guess disco is coming back too.

3. I have three major projects rolling right now. My assignment for V., NaNoWriMo, and rewriting The Exit Strategy. My goal for this draft of The Exit Strategy is to make it funny. REAL funny. As close to Bridesmaids funny as I can get. I'm reading "Show Me the Funny!" from Peter Desberg & Jeffrey Davis to help. I've already found some nuggets of wisdom, and I'm only in chapter two.

Something I'm definitely going to keep with me while rewriting is something that came out of an interview with Walter Bennett (The Bill Cosby Show, The Steve Harvey Show, In the House, etc. and more). When asked what he does to make a story funnier, he said, "If it's not funny, it's usually because it's not the worst thing that can happen."

I've employed this strategy already, subconsciously. I bumped character relationships up to the next "awful-ness" level. I picked out dialog that could be more inflammatory. I tried to utilize the setting to get the most embarrassment out of situations that i could. I really want to push this next draft so that the worse things that can happen to my main character, do happen. Because, like Bennett says, it works. If you're working with a scene that's moderately funny and you want to know how to kick it up a notch, ask yourself -- is this truly the worst thing that could happen to my character?

This is also so helpful when writing any kind of story and figuring out the main conflict/problem. Figure out what your characters fears or faults are, and play your problem into them. If your character is a coward, require them to show courage. If they are shy, make them step out of their comfort zone. If they are proud, humble them. Find the opposites in your story and use them to create conflict.

And when you need a little serenity from all the craziness that you're instigating, listen to a little Christmas music. It soothes the soul.

Bad News.

Kurt Kuenne gives advice on what to do when you get news of a sale that's similar to a script you're working on. I'm looking at you, Young Adult.

Ready? GO.

So, I just had to read my own blog to figure out where I left off. LAME. I think I'm figuring something out. I think I can either have fun in my life, football games and wedding planning (my best friend's) and concerts and hosting wine tasting dinner parties -- or I can be a writer.

Guess it's time to stop having so much fun.

I'm not even able to properly analyze the new fall shows because I can barely keep up with them [except I'm totally going to plug the ones I HAVE been keeping up with -- The New Girl and Community! I'm kinda feeling Pan Am too].

I have been making steady progress on my writing assignment for V. We've moved past prewriting and I've started writing actual pages. The only problem is that I boasted I could write 8 pages an hour if I was focused. I totally can, it's just finding that hour. I ran into another former professor while working with V. last week. He told V., "Amy Butler is fantastic." Yep, been feeling pretty stellar since then.

But I had best utilize October, because I'm doing National Novel Writing Month this year! I haven't participated in NaNo since I was a living in England, 5 years ago. But I've been feeling the siren call of fiction for the past several months, and I think NaNo's just the thing.

I've been working on other fiction projects, though. Speaking of steps I haven't taken in a while, I just submitted a short story to Glimmer Train, the first submission I've made to a market in a very long time. Glimmer Train is pretty prestigious, and the tone of my story is a bit excessively tongue in cheek, so we'll see how it goes. I'm going to pull out the other piece I wrote over the summer and clean it up too. And lastly, I've started writing a short zombie story. It's called "One Sad Zombie." I have a lot of time to think at work.

I am also ready to update the layout of this blog. Totally not a fan. However, the domain I wanted is already taken on both Blogger AND Wordpress, so I think we're stuck with the same old format for a while.

I also want to buy a leather jacket. Non writing related goal.

The Big News.

1. I still fit into my high school graduation dress, suckas!

But that's not it...

2. I am about to be a paid screenwriter.

Money. In my Pocket. For words. That I wrote. I am about to get paid. For words.

Here is the story -- I still keep in touch with my old screenwriting professors, and one of them floated an idea by me and asked if I would help develop it with him. Yes and yes. I expected we would meet a few times, spit ball ideas around, and just sort of break the monotony of writing alone by developing the idea together. I was a little nervous about having to be brilliant on the spot with a former professor, but I was excited to work with someone for a change.

It was like a small town Hollywood courtship meeting.

He bought me my drink (lemonade, but I kept it medium, no need to be flashy), and we small talked. We hadn't seen each other since he had given me notes on my TV pilot. And then it got down to business. We would develop the idea together through weekly meetings, and once we had nailed down a treatment, we'd register with the Writers' Guild with joint story credit. Then I'd take our treatment, outline, and beat sheet (yeah, way more prewriting than I ever do) and work out the screenplay. I'd register my first draft with the Guild and get sole writing credit. He'd shoot the script low budget next summer and edit it in the fall.

I was set to go, by this point. The prospect of having my words filmed was motivation enough for me. But then he flattered me even more -- he offered me money. It wasn't an extravagant amount (he's a professor, guys) and at first I waved my hand -- unnecessary, Professor -- but he was insistent. He said, he thought about what he would want in this situation and that the money was an investment in the project that he wanted to do. We reached an agreement.

Guys, I'm going to write a script, and then I'm going to stand in front of a video feed and watch those words. There's going to be a script, and then there's going to be a creative team, and then there's going to be a cast, and then there's going to be locations and sets and a shooting schedule and footage and hours and hours in the editing room.

And then there's going to be a movie.

That I wrote.

And sometime after that, there'll be another. And another. And another and another and another...

In Deep.

The Hockey Player wasn't wrong when he said writing takes a long time. I started writing The Exit Strategy last late summer/early fall, just finished draft three, and am hoping to get through a couple more drafts before the Nicholl rolls around in May. That's nearly two years, and I have little idea if the draft I send to the Nicholl will be the final draft.

This is why I try to be careful when picking projects. If you're going to dedicate years of your life to a project, you've got to be convinced that 1. this is a project you like enough to get you through those years and 2. this is a project that will help your career. [I fully believe that faith in #2 is more difficult and uncertain than faith in #1.]

There are a lot of stories I could write. But I feel like there are a few kinds of stories I am meant to write. One kind of story that I like to explore is the redemption story. The redemption of people, the redemption of situations, how the bad becomes good. But when it comes to writing the bad before the good, I'm a little squeamish. When I write about the gray areas of life, how do I show understanding without sanction? Shouldn't I raise the stakes? How "bad" am I willing to go? Or am I afraid of the judgment on me if I write something deemed inappropriate?

The problem is, if I gloss over hard situations, if I keep things just partly cloudy, how powerful will redemption be? Isn't it the greater the fall, the greater the grace? If someone is saved from just a slightly harrowing situation, how much faith will I inspire in redemption? Isn't it true that the greater the debt forgiven, the greater love inspired?

Too bad I didn't want to become an accountant instead of a writer.

Teaser.

I could have some really big news. Maybe. So I'm not going to tell you. But here's some lesser news.

I finished the third draft of The Exit Strategy! I'm going to let it ferment a little and then dive back in for a fourth draft. After that, I do believe it'll be ready to show to a few close friends. And then rewrite it more. And then I'll send it to others (Carson? I'm gunning for you). And then I'll rewrite it more. And hopefully I'll get it polished in time for next year's Nicholl.

The Hockey Player thinks writing takes too long.

I've recently gotten my hands on a copy of Show Me the Funny! edited by Peter Desberg and Jeffry Davis. Since I'm really hoping to vamp up the comedy in this next draft of The Exit Strategy, I'll be looking for some applicable tips.

Football season is about to start. That's GREAT.

You know what else comes with fall? Pilots. There are several new shows I'm excited about (Awake, The New Girl, Once Upon a Time), and I will be reviewing. It would be a great time to pull out my own pilot.

I've also been thinking about the end of the world a lot recently. The Hockey Player and I are forming a plan. The only tips I can give you are familiarize yourself with local emergency headquarters, get a bike, and plot the sneakiest route into Canada.

Submission.

People often ask me, in the screenwriting process, what follows full completion of a script? If it's done and I know it's done and I'm ready to let it go, how do I get it to the people who have the money? And my answer always is, "There's fellowships and blind queries and contests and secret lists and really I have NO IDEA."

I don't. I don't know what the steps are from finished script to first day of production. I suppose that's something I'll figure out in the next few years (hooooopefully). In most of my imaginary scenarios, it involves moving to LA.

Screenplays, I'm shot at. But short stories. I know what you do there.

I wanted to get back into fiction this summer. I have two stories that I'm pretty proud of, and I just got one to DONE status. It's finished. It's ready to go. This sucker is ready to sail.

So. Once I have the time. I'm going to start researching short story markets. And then I'm going to start querying. I am nervous but excited. I am savoring the anticipated rejection. I'm having trouble typing with my fingers crossed.

I haven't had a fiction piece published in at least five years. I haven't tried. But I'm tired of typing and typing and typing and stuffing the pages into my pockets. Time to bid them farewell (and good luck). This could be the beginning of my failure as a writer.

Or it could go really well.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Sometimes I say things to not look like an idiot, but instead I just prove it.

Last weekend I went to a goodbye party for a friend who was moving to China. I got to meet a lot of new people, which allowed for the always long story of where I'm from, what I'm doing, and what I want to be doing (seriously, I never think my life is complicated until I start telling this story. And usually I just skip the bit about England).

I got talking with my friend's dad about how I wanted to be a writer, and he said, "That's a tough career. A lot of people try it, and very few can make any money off it."

And I said, "That's true, which is why I think the key to having a sustainable writing career is to diversify, produce everything from screenplays to short stories so you can tap into the market from all angles."

And as he was nodding his head, all I could think was WHAT? Where did that come from? I've never said that before in my life, and I don't even really think it's true. I said it because I was to scared to admit to this person, who has relatives in the film business and legitimately knows how difficult it is, that I'm gambling a whole lot of time and energy on something that could turn out to be a big black hole. I couldn't say, "Yeah, screenwriting is more commonly a source of frustration than money but I'm going to do it anyway," because I didn't want to sound like some starry-eyed high schooler with her fingers crossed for NYU. So I made something up and just sounded dumb.

I do write more than screenplays. I write short stories and sometimes novel excerpts and these amazing blog posts, but it's not because I think I'm going to make a career out of them. It's because I enjoy all those modes of storytelling. I'm still learning not to be embarrassed about being a writer, even about being an unpublished/unproduced writer. I hope that next time someone says, in essence, "Oh you want to be a writer? That's a tough field," I'll be able to say, "You're right, it is. And I'm going to rock it out anyway."

PS. I finished that short story I've been working on. It's 18 pages of mess, but it's also 18 pages of awesome. Maybe you guys can't tell from my blogs, but I'm really not half bad.

More Soon.

It's been a perilous past couple days.

Actually, that's not remotely true. It's rather settled at frustrating, with my room remaining stubbornly hot while the outside part of the world becomes surprisingly cool. Every season I forget how Michigan weather goes.

Also, apparently it's a thing to bring your TV camping now? I did not know. But while on a twenty-four hour camping trip with friends (which, now that I think about it, was less than safe at times), we saw several families huddled around a TV set -- in their tent! What is wrong with the world!

Can we talk about spec script sales for a minute? According to Scott Myers, spec script sales are up 84% this year to date. I honestly don't know what else a writer would do to try to break into the industry BESIDES write a spec [EDIT: Ah, I forgot, Tumblrs and Twitter Feeds], but hallelujah for the resurrection! To all the people who said the spec market was dead, eat 84% of your little heart out. Go us! [And by us I mean you real people making money off this crazy thing.]

Are you guys following ScriptShadow? Are you? Because what I'm trying to say is, he said something really great last week, and I'm trying for the life of me to figure out what it was, but I'm drawing a blank. It might have been how truly hilarious comedies always seem to need that one character who will "go there" to ridiculous lengths [a la Zack Galifinikas]. This character, interestingly enough, is rarely the main character. And in female driven/targeting rom coms, it is ALWAYS the best friend of the career driven, detail oriented, Miss Lonely Hearts protagonist. Wouldn't it be great if we had a rom com where the female lead was the ridiculous one? Kind of like Juno, at 25? Or my own script, The Exit Strategy? [Please email for read requests.]

I'm on the fourteenth page of my current short story, and I'm getting that delicious feeling of tumbling down toward the end. Any day it could happen. It's inevitable. It's set up, I'm prepared, all we need is an afternoon or two at the keyboard and away from Facebook. I've been reading old Nebula winners too. Writers should be readers if only because it inspires us to be better writers.

I'm sorry about the excessive punctuation tonight. I don't know what came over me.