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.
Thursday, February 02, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Download.
Since it's awards season, there's been a plethora of great scripts made available to the public. I went on a downloading spree, snatching anything that remotely grabbed my interest.
I've never been a very good 'script reader.' It wasn't until about halfway through my Screenplay as Lit class that I read a script I felt could have been a movie. And they all had been made into movies. So I've resolved this year to read more scripts, both to educate myself on how to be a better script reader and how to be a better right.
Earlier this week I read Beginners and Black Swan. I have seen neither movie. I was reflecting on them today, and here's what stood out to me --
1. As soon as I had finished Black Swan I wanted to watch the movie. It's now at the top of my 'To Watch' list.
2. I couldn't remember if I had actually finished Beginners or not.
If that was all I took away from this week, I still think I'd have learned plenty. When a reader finishes your script, you want them to be anxious to see the movie. You need to end on such a strong note that your story in their head for days.
Granted, these are two completely different types of scripts. And I really did enjoy them both. But I had two big concerns with Beginners. 1. It didn't seem to dig deep enough. The most interesting part of Beginners was Oliver's relationship with his father. I felt as if there was unexplored potential there. And 2. Ana is a manic pixie character (I mean, she's French). I'm just over that.
Black Swan made strong story choices. And yes, Beginners was a completely different genre and was aiming to tell a different sort of story, but I felt that it could have made stronger choices. It's actually a point V and I discussed the most recent time we met. We were trying to decide if one character should just offer to do something or really do it. I think if you're going to offer, if you're going to hint, if you're going to suggest, you should just commit all the way and jump in with the stronger choice.
So. What's next?
I've never been a very good 'script reader.' It wasn't until about halfway through my Screenplay as Lit class that I read a script I felt could have been a movie. And they all had been made into movies. So I've resolved this year to read more scripts, both to educate myself on how to be a better script reader and how to be a better right.
Earlier this week I read Beginners and Black Swan. I have seen neither movie. I was reflecting on them today, and here's what stood out to me --
1. As soon as I had finished Black Swan I wanted to watch the movie. It's now at the top of my 'To Watch' list.
2. I couldn't remember if I had actually finished Beginners or not.
If that was all I took away from this week, I still think I'd have learned plenty. When a reader finishes your script, you want them to be anxious to see the movie. You need to end on such a strong note that your story in their head for days.
Granted, these are two completely different types of scripts. And I really did enjoy them both. But I had two big concerns with Beginners. 1. It didn't seem to dig deep enough. The most interesting part of Beginners was Oliver's relationship with his father. I felt as if there was unexplored potential there. And 2. Ana is a manic pixie character (I mean, she's French). I'm just over that.
Black Swan made strong story choices. And yes, Beginners was a completely different genre and was aiming to tell a different sort of story, but I felt that it could have made stronger choices. It's actually a point V and I discussed the most recent time we met. We were trying to decide if one character should just offer to do something or really do it. I think if you're going to offer, if you're going to hint, if you're going to suggest, you should just commit all the way and jump in with the stronger choice.
So. What's next?
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Review.
Michigan's screenwriting program is a hidden gem of the Midwest. I myself would not have known about it if I didn't have friends who already attended Michigan. When I was considering film schools, Michigan came out comparable to NYU and UCLA (at least in regards to screenwriting. Michigan, from what little I experienced as a short on time transfer student, has a great production department as well, and one of my Michigan professors always talked about how Michigan was so much better than his alma mater, USC).
And then the kicker -- Michigan, unlike most of the other schools I was considering, took midyear transfers. Sold and enrolled.
I promise the commercial for Michigan is almost over, but first let me explain the structure of the feature writing classes. Screenwriting I is open to everyone. You are taught structure and format and you write your first script. HALF of you are invited into Screenwriting II. Screenwriting II is a unique class where you're taught to rewrite. You come out with a new draft of your Screenwriting I script. Half of THOSE students are invited into Screenwriting III, a master workshopping class where you write a new script under the mentorship of head of the program. (Side note: I went through all three classes, which makes me feel pretty good about myself. Some people I know when through all three classes and won huge cash awards, which helps me keep my ego in check.)
In a week and a half, V. and I will be presenting Consideration to the Screenwriting II class. Their homework is to take the script, read it, and come back the next weeks with notes. At which point I will sit down at the table, pull out my laptop, and record the tidal wave of notes. Then our homework is to come back the next week to show how we incorporated the notes into our script. It's supposed to get their head in the game for rewriting (which can be a bit of a shock, the first time you're expected to do more than just edit) and it's supposed to give us an opportunity to get input on the script.
I am a little bit nervous about this. One, I know what kind of egos will be a room of 12 screenwriting students who just got into an invitation only class. I know, because I had one of them. Two, because I'm just nervous about showing Consideration to anyone yet.
Maybe that's because I'm not even through the second draft yet, I don't know. But I only wrote one new script since graduation (I was also rewriting other scripts and writing lots of first acts), and I didn't show anyone that until I had written three drafts. And I was going to wait until draft four, but I decided to send it to a friend with my intended changes to see what she thought. That's it.
So to hand off a baby script to a dozen over zealous college students makes me a little nervous. I have a pretty thick skin, but V. has been very patient and maybe I've gotten soft and -- sensitive.
But what really makes me nervous is not the screenwriting students. The head of the screenwriting department teaches that class, so he'll read this draft too. It's the first work of mine that he'll have read in three years. I desperately want to have improved. I'm totally not looking for validation or anything.
I would have liked to wait until draft 3 to show anyone anything, I really would have. But that's not the case, and I am grateful for this opportunity anyway. I'm sure a room of screenwriting students is not unlike a room of executives, so it'll be good practice for getting studio notes in the future. Because I do expect to get a lot of those.
And then the kicker -- Michigan, unlike most of the other schools I was considering, took midyear transfers. Sold and enrolled.
I promise the commercial for Michigan is almost over, but first let me explain the structure of the feature writing classes. Screenwriting I is open to everyone. You are taught structure and format and you write your first script. HALF of you are invited into Screenwriting II. Screenwriting II is a unique class where you're taught to rewrite. You come out with a new draft of your Screenwriting I script. Half of THOSE students are invited into Screenwriting III, a master workshopping class where you write a new script under the mentorship of head of the program. (Side note: I went through all three classes, which makes me feel pretty good about myself. Some people I know when through all three classes and won huge cash awards, which helps me keep my ego in check.)
In a week and a half, V. and I will be presenting Consideration to the Screenwriting II class. Their homework is to take the script, read it, and come back the next weeks with notes. At which point I will sit down at the table, pull out my laptop, and record the tidal wave of notes. Then our homework is to come back the next week to show how we incorporated the notes into our script. It's supposed to get their head in the game for rewriting (which can be a bit of a shock, the first time you're expected to do more than just edit) and it's supposed to give us an opportunity to get input on the script.
I am a little bit nervous about this. One, I know what kind of egos will be a room of 12 screenwriting students who just got into an invitation only class. I know, because I had one of them. Two, because I'm just nervous about showing Consideration to anyone yet.
Maybe that's because I'm not even through the second draft yet, I don't know. But I only wrote one new script since graduation (I was also rewriting other scripts and writing lots of first acts), and I didn't show anyone that until I had written three drafts. And I was going to wait until draft four, but I decided to send it to a friend with my intended changes to see what she thought. That's it.
So to hand off a baby script to a dozen over zealous college students makes me a little nervous. I have a pretty thick skin, but V. has been very patient and maybe I've gotten soft and -- sensitive.
But what really makes me nervous is not the screenwriting students. The head of the screenwriting department teaches that class, so he'll read this draft too. It's the first work of mine that he'll have read in three years. I desperately want to have improved. I'm totally not looking for validation or anything.
I would have liked to wait until draft 3 to show anyone anything, I really would have. But that's not the case, and I am grateful for this opportunity anyway. I'm sure a room of screenwriting students is not unlike a room of executives, so it'll be good practice for getting studio notes in the future. Because I do expect to get a lot of those.
Sunday, January 08, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 04, 2012
Reboot.
The holidays are over. Cut the fun. Back to real life.
V. mercifully released me from my self-imposed pre-Christmas draft 1.5. He had something like 32 screenplays to grade and apparently did not want to read a 33rd. Fair. I had a really fab holiday. I tried to shop local and small business for all my gifts and ended up having the most fun Christmas shopping that I've ever had. In what I consider resulting good (and ironic) karma, I got a Kindle Fire for Christmas, which has already proven its worth twice, once when I was stuck in the airport for five hours and last night when I realized it was the only way I could watch the Michigan-V. Tech Sugar Bowl.
Ah, Michigan.
I'm not going to do an end of the year post. 2011 was fine but tumultuous, and I probably don't remember half the events anyway. But I will do 2012, a year in preview --
1. Michigan will be mighty.
2. I am going to Israel. I feel super lucky that I'm getting to take a trip to Israel with my aunt and dad (er, and Mike Huckabee). Israel and New Zealand have spent the last five years jostling for top spot on my Top 184 Places to Visit. Guess New Zealand will have that trophy all for its own now.
My mom said she wouldn't come with us because she didn't want her children to be completely orphaned.
3. I will drink more water. Well, maybe.
4. We're making a movie. More precisely, a movie I wrote. It may be cold and dark now, but in just a few short months I will be breezing from my desk to set, where I will huddle in a corner, since I doubt we will have those fun movie set chairs, and watch people act what I wrote. Expect pictures. 'Cause I'm taking a lot.
5. There will be a wedding, and I reign as MOH. That's Maid of Honor, suckas!
6. If I feel like it, I will rewrite and e-publish my NaNo novel. I like it. It'd be fun. You know, if I feel like it.
7. I will watch more movies, read more scripts, write more pages. Scott Meyer's has a great 1, 2 , 7, 14 plan that I will emulate.
And that's it for now. There's other stuff, waiting in the wings, that will make an entrance at the right time.
I know on New Year's Eve, people always think the next twelve months will be a good year. Everyone has a 'feeling.' I don't have a feeling. I have a knowing. How could I look at that list and not know?
However, I do have a 'feeling' that there will be a lot of dance parties.
V. mercifully released me from my self-imposed pre-Christmas draft 1.5. He had something like 32 screenplays to grade and apparently did not want to read a 33rd. Fair. I had a really fab holiday. I tried to shop local and small business for all my gifts and ended up having the most fun Christmas shopping that I've ever had. In what I consider resulting good (and ironic) karma, I got a Kindle Fire for Christmas, which has already proven its worth twice, once when I was stuck in the airport for five hours and last night when I realized it was the only way I could watch the Michigan-V. Tech Sugar Bowl.
Ah, Michigan.
I'm not going to do an end of the year post. 2011 was fine but tumultuous, and I probably don't remember half the events anyway. But I will do 2012, a year in preview --
1. Michigan will be mighty.
2. I am going to Israel. I feel super lucky that I'm getting to take a trip to Israel with my aunt and dad (er, and Mike Huckabee). Israel and New Zealand have spent the last five years jostling for top spot on my Top 184 Places to Visit. Guess New Zealand will have that trophy all for its own now.
My mom said she wouldn't come with us because she didn't want her children to be completely orphaned.
3. I will drink more water. Well, maybe.
4. We're making a movie. More precisely, a movie I wrote. It may be cold and dark now, but in just a few short months I will be breezing from my desk to set, where I will huddle in a corner, since I doubt we will have those fun movie set chairs, and watch people act what I wrote. Expect pictures. 'Cause I'm taking a lot.
5. There will be a wedding, and I reign as MOH. That's Maid of Honor, suckas!
6. If I feel like it, I will rewrite and e-publish my NaNo novel. I like it. It'd be fun. You know, if I feel like it.
7. I will watch more movies, read more scripts, write more pages. Scott Meyer's has a great 1, 2 , 7, 14 plan that I will emulate.
And that's it for now. There's other stuff, waiting in the wings, that will make an entrance at the right time.
I know on New Year's Eve, people always think the next twelve months will be a good year. Everyone has a 'feeling.' I don't have a feeling. I have a knowing. How could I look at that list and not know?
However, I do have a 'feeling' that there will be a lot of dance parties.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 06, 2011
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.
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.
Friday, December 02, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Other Things.
1. I am still behind on my novel. But it's going to be ok. I just killed off a character, it's good.
2. I don't remember the last story I wrote where the main romantic pair got together in the end. And when I last wrote a happily married couple, I killed one of them in the end. Er. Is that a reflection of my psyche?
3. Let's keep moving.
4. I saw Mat Kearney in concert last week. Amazing. I'm a little resentful that he's got a super cute wife, but whatevs. We all move on.
5.
6. Have you been to Whole Foods lately? I went yesterday to get some chocolate covered espresso beans and I caved and bought some chocolate covered toffee almonds as well. The one in town has this cute little wine bar in the middle of the store. I'm pretty sure I'm going to make the Hockey Player take me there on date night asap.
7. I cannot wait until he and I jump in my bullet-holed minivan on Wednesday and start weaving through the Thanksgiving day traffic like the accident prone people we are. Route 80, all the way! [along with about 90,000 other people, awesome.]
8. If you had to choose between moving to LA asap or living in the middle of nowhere for a few more years and shooting your own ultra low budget mumblecore, what would you do? 'Cause I've started saving for either of those options, and it's getting to be a conundrum about which to get excited about.
2. I don't remember the last story I wrote where the main romantic pair got together in the end. And when I last wrote a happily married couple, I killed one of them in the end. Er. Is that a reflection of my psyche?
3. Let's keep moving.
4. I saw Mat Kearney in concert last week. Amazing. I'm a little resentful that he's got a super cute wife, but whatevs. We all move on.
5.
6. Have you been to Whole Foods lately? I went yesterday to get some chocolate covered espresso beans and I caved and bought some chocolate covered toffee almonds as well. The one in town has this cute little wine bar in the middle of the store. I'm pretty sure I'm going to make the Hockey Player take me there on date night asap.
7. I cannot wait until he and I jump in my bullet-holed minivan on Wednesday and start weaving through the Thanksgiving day traffic like the accident prone people we are. Route 80, all the way! [along with about 90,000 other people, awesome.]
8. If you had to choose between moving to LA asap or living in the middle of nowhere for a few more years and shooting your own ultra low budget mumblecore, what would you do? 'Cause I've started saving for either of those options, and it's getting to be a conundrum about which to get excited about.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
