move.

The newly redesigned blog is up and running! This old blog served me faithfully, but I'll be doing all my posting over at the Wordpress location now.

Check it out -- The Unsolicited Memoirs of an Infrangible Writer.

remodel.

First, in screenwriting news, if you haven't read Scott Myer's round table with Hollywood's newest screenwriting darlings, go there now.

I'm sprucing up the old blog. I'm looking for something a little more "serious and career-driven writer" and less "PAISLEY! SONG LYRICS!" I've been working on a Wordpress blog all week, and I think it's almost time to put a sign in the window here and head out. (Mind you, "working on the blog" is, to me, rearranging my side widgets into the optimal order. It's not like I'm doing actual coding or anything.)

Step 3 of my 5 step blog move was to import all my old blog posts. As a writer, it's incredibly difficult to give up what you've written and start with a clean page, even if you do want a clean start. That is what I thought, at least, until I started going back and reading some of those old posts.

I've had this blog since 2004, people. Eight years. And I will be honest and frank with you and say I was downright mortified by some of those old posts, what I had written and clearly how I was acting. Yikes. Obviously, I had an inability to keep my personal life out of my blog (er, just skip the below post entitled "romancing") -- or maybe I thought I was writing a LiveJournal. So I decided that I'd leave some of those chronicles here. I want a writing focused blog, so I only took from January 2007, when I started the screenwriting program at Michigan, and on.

Today I am super grateful for growing up -- at least a little. And now I'd like to share with you some song lyrics that recently have been making me all misty-eyed--

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

Most Culturally Relevant Halloween Ever!

Courage.

Dear writers.

We're on the precipice of an adventure. We stand outside a dark cave of uncertainty. We wait for the trumpet that rallies us to the call.

We wait on the eve of NaNoWriMo.

We are a small band of devoted storytellers, impassioned voices, slightly unbalanced characters. We feel the urge to do what few would find even rational -- 50,000 words in 30 days? During a month of a major family holiday as well? Would a normal person attempt such a thing?

The answer is no -- but we are no normal beings.

If any of you fellow NaNo-ers out there are like me, you have the mere inklings of a plot, the foggiest visions of a character, and nary an idea what to do after chapter three. But NaNo-ers depart from weather outlines and other conventional wisdom. We believe in the compulsion of artificial deadlines, the longevity of caffeine, and the power of a story. And we will sacrifice our sleep, our fun, and our sanity in order to run the race set out before us.

For those waiting for the gunshot of midnight, best of luck. God speed you through your caffeine-tripping and sleep-deprived haze to the 50,000 word finish line. It's time to sparkle, little dreamers.

Here's to your literary abandon.

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.