I haven't been posting because, honestly, I lost interest in posting. I won't blow the proverbial smoke and say I was too busy because when you take time to nap and Facebook and make/eat delicious Fantasy Fudge, that would seem to indicate there's some extra time in your schedule.
Strangely, I always seem to come back around New Years. Not sure why. It has nothing to do with resolutions or anything like that. I'm as willing to make resolutions in June as January. And I have made some positive improvements since last we spoke. I'm losing weight for one. This is not vanity. This is to save my life. No, I'm not 700 pounds and on life support. I just had a "moment of clarity" last year, again in January, looking at my father in a hospital bed and knowing that was going to be me if I didn't straighten the hell up healthwise. I'm doing yoga, the first exercise I have ever truly enjoyed. Don't you hate people who go to aerobics and wear terry cloth sweatbands and proclaim to love it when you know there is no way anyone could possibly ENJOY that crap? And don't worry, I will not start springing Buddhist words of wisdom on you because basically I know none. Go to the website for your zen.
I've used the excuse of studying when my friends ask about writing. I spent about two years studying for CPIM exams, so it was pretty much like getting an associates degree. And don't worry what CPIM stands for because it is on a planet far, far away from writing. Now I'm studying for CSCP (don't look it up) and toyed with the idea of using it for the next great excuse. But I'm not going to. I've come to realize that the same discipline it takes to study for and pass those hard-ass tests I've been taking can be applied to writing. It comes down to this: break it down. I break down the study in little chunks every day, and there's no reason to not do the same with the writing. I've got the story, it's already started, I just need to put down a little chunk in writing every day. And as was established in the first paragraph, the time is there. Just put down the fudge.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Saturday, January 1, 2011
New Year
I know. It has been awhile. But I posted something last New Year's, so I couldn't break the tradition.
I've been pretty busy. I started an internship as a reader for a management company. I've always heard that it is very beneficial to your own writing to read and critique lots of other screenplays. I think it is helping, but it's difficult to cram this work in on top of all the other with my job, etc.
Happy New Year. Write some good stuff. Maybe I'll read it.
I've been pretty busy. I started an internship as a reader for a management company. I've always heard that it is very beneficial to your own writing to read and critique lots of other screenplays. I think it is helping, but it's difficult to cram this work in on top of all the other with my job, etc.
Happy New Year. Write some good stuff. Maybe I'll read it.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
To Be Continued ...
The short story will have to be continued at a later time, possibly early June. Circumstances prevail at present.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
The Mirror - Part 1
When Aidan was a younger man, he spent his weekends at football games and parties and in younger women's pants. He drank his fair share and puked more than. He cruised with friends through town during the hopeful, lush, starlit hours of Saturday nights with the windows down and dark air cooling inexperienced faces. He found love and lost it. He found it again. He skinny-dipped in water that was still warm on top from a recently departed sun but cold and thrilling in lower regions. He attended proms in stiff tuxes with girls in Southern belle gowns. But in those younger years there was one thing he never did on Saturday night: wait around on his wife in her creepy dead aunt's gigantic creepy house.
He rolled his eyes around at the dark furnishings straight from a torture chamber. Heavy, ornately carved wood with black varnish and heavy fabric died the shade of old blood. Antique books and bric-a-brac that appeared not to have moved from their appointed spot in decades. Dusty drapes that looked like they could kill a man if they should fall from their titanic rods. He instinctively felt that the house viewed him as an unwanted intruder so he steered clear of the drapes.
The most impressive item, however, was a mirror. It wasn't impressive in the way that most people think of impressive, like when a person admires the outcome of an artist's work and feels struck by the innate talent. This object was impressive in that it made an impression on the mind, a deep furrow that was not exactly pleasant. But it had a dark attraction, something like a vampire. Everyone knows they're dangerous, but we can't quite stop looking, can't completely suppress an admiration and desire.
He edged up closer, unconsciously trying to come at it from an angle so that his face wouldn't be caught in it.
"Pretty spooky, isn't it?"
He damn near crapped his pants.
Next week - Part 2
He rolled his eyes around at the dark furnishings straight from a torture chamber. Heavy, ornately carved wood with black varnish and heavy fabric died the shade of old blood. Antique books and bric-a-brac that appeared not to have moved from their appointed spot in decades. Dusty drapes that looked like they could kill a man if they should fall from their titanic rods. He instinctively felt that the house viewed him as an unwanted intruder so he steered clear of the drapes.
The most impressive item, however, was a mirror. It wasn't impressive in the way that most people think of impressive, like when a person admires the outcome of an artist's work and feels struck by the innate talent. This object was impressive in that it made an impression on the mind, a deep furrow that was not exactly pleasant. But it had a dark attraction, something like a vampire. Everyone knows they're dangerous, but we can't quite stop looking, can't completely suppress an admiration and desire.
He edged up closer, unconsciously trying to come at it from an angle so that his face wouldn't be caught in it.
"Pretty spooky, isn't it?"
He damn near crapped his pants.
Next week - Part 2
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Out like a Lion
The end of March approacheth. I don't recall it coming in like a lion so I take it that means it won't go out like a lamb. Either way, neither the lion or the lamb seemed to give me any inspiration this month because I am still not where I need to be on finishing my screenplay. The first contest date is coming up fast, and I suppose if I quickly slapped something together I could still make it. Just not my style. I'm not particularly upset about it because I'm planning on entering two in the Austin and maybe one or two somewhere else so that will be plenty drain on the checking account.
I've been inexcusably lazy on the writing this month. I could have definitely done more, and that's why I'm here. I need to get warmed up and going again. This is my place to warm my hands by the fire so they're limbered up enough to turn around and punch somebody in the mouth. I will make this month go out like a lion.
There are actual lambs that live up the road from me. A whole field full of them. They belong to a cranky old guy who actually put up a can on the fence one spring with a sign telling people that if they want to stop and look at his cute lambs, they should contribute to their support. All these years, there have been those sheep and little lambs. You get used to driving by there, glancing over at the playful, fluffy lambs kicking up their heels. Yesterday, I drove by and there amongst them ... was a cow. Now what is he doing?
I've been inexcusably lazy on the writing this month. I could have definitely done more, and that's why I'm here. I need to get warmed up and going again. This is my place to warm my hands by the fire so they're limbered up enough to turn around and punch somebody in the mouth. I will make this month go out like a lion.
There are actual lambs that live up the road from me. A whole field full of them. They belong to a cranky old guy who actually put up a can on the fence one spring with a sign telling people that if they want to stop and look at his cute lambs, they should contribute to their support. All these years, there have been those sheep and little lambs. You get used to driving by there, glancing over at the playful, fluffy lambs kicking up their heels. Yesterday, I drove by and there amongst them ... was a cow. Now what is he doing?
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Formula writing
My writing has been reduced to mathematics: adding, subtracting, long division, formulas. Well, not really my writing exactly (because wouldn't that be terribly boring even though most of the screenwriting advice you read tries to force you to fit your story into the tried-and-true-and-therefore-utterly-worn-out formula). It's more like my drive, my sense of urgency, has been reduced to mathematics. In calendar form mainly.
Contests are an excellent way to light a fire under your butt and get you out of your complacency, laziness, and procrastination. They are deadlines. They are that something that demands you have it done by a particular date, or by the gods and little fishes, they are going on without you. So I printed off a calendar, because for some reason I don't seem to have one, and I have written the dates of the contests I will be entering on the margins, and I have carefully calculated out how many more pages I need divided by the number of days left and minus off about two weeks because I will need about that for strictly editing. And voila, I have a goal for how much needs to be written each day.
Side note, completely off-topic: I have enjoyed visiting the blog of Elizabeth Bales Frank http://www.elizafrank.com/index.html. A couple days ago, the strangest thing happened. There was number on my caller ID with the name Elizabeth Frank. I know it wasn't her because the number was from my town, and I believe she lives quite far from my town, plus the fact that we are complete strangers, but still ... what's the word for that?
Contests are an excellent way to light a fire under your butt and get you out of your complacency, laziness, and procrastination. They are deadlines. They are that something that demands you have it done by a particular date, or by the gods and little fishes, they are going on without you. So I printed off a calendar, because for some reason I don't seem to have one, and I have written the dates of the contests I will be entering on the margins, and I have carefully calculated out how many more pages I need divided by the number of days left and minus off about two weeks because I will need about that for strictly editing. And voila, I have a goal for how much needs to be written each day.
Side note, completely off-topic: I have enjoyed visiting the blog of Elizabeth Bales Frank http://www.elizafrank.com/index.html. A couple days ago, the strangest thing happened. There was number on my caller ID with the name Elizabeth Frank. I know it wasn't her because the number was from my town, and I believe she lives quite far from my town, plus the fact that we are complete strangers, but still ... what's the word for that?
Friday, January 1, 2010
Black and White
My year has been one of extremes - severe, deepest blacks and enlightening whites. The term of 2009 A.D. was very uneven, a rough ride, and even in its final moments, it seemed to be trying its damnedest to snap at me a few last times. The number 9 signifies the end of a cycle, but for every end, there is also a beginning.
I had some of the worst experiences I have ever had in my entire life. I had lows so extreme that I was amazed it was me. But for every low, every deep, black cavern, there was the opposite. There was the light of friends and family gathering around and proving what I always suspected: they really are on my side. For every utter defeat, there was a sparkling victory.
Everyone lives their own movie. There were as many versions of 2009 as there are people on earth. Some lived it in color. Some had the shades of gray found in the oldies. For me, it was black and white.
I had some of the worst experiences I have ever had in my entire life. I had lows so extreme that I was amazed it was me. But for every low, every deep, black cavern, there was the opposite. There was the light of friends and family gathering around and proving what I always suspected: they really are on my side. For every utter defeat, there was a sparkling victory.
Everyone lives their own movie. There were as many versions of 2009 as there are people on earth. Some lived it in color. Some had the shades of gray found in the oldies. For me, it was black and white.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Ensemble (puke) and the popular kids (more puke)
The first thing you may be wondering is, "Why are there flamingos on this page and what do they have to do with screenwriting?" Absolutely nothing. I just felt like adding a picture. They look like they're deep in thought, wading around there, saying things like, "Where in the hell did Bob drop the remote? I told you not to let him have it."
I am writing what I suppose could be called an ensemble screenplay. I hate that word, so snobbish and uptight. I should say I dislike that word because I do not feel as strongly about it as I do about words such as "dinner" and "jot." Now those words I hate. But my screenplay has a group of people living together in a large old house that has become apartments. In a story like this, there are two things that must be very strong: character and plot. Plot because if you're not careful, your people can just end up drifting around having a thousand conversations that go nowhere, and character because if you're not careful, they'll end up too much alike.
On that second note, I came across an interesting thread about voice (http://groups.google.com/group/misc.writing.screenplays.moderated/browse_thread/thread/82c88be732d66516#). There's a lot of good advice flying around in there, but to me, it all seems to boil down to this: see those people in your mind. See them, hear them. Write down what you're seeing and what they say. Yeah, there will be times that you have to nudge them or even give them an outright shove right off the fucking cliff, but for the most part, listen to them, and do not ever, ever limit them.
On the topic of reading threads and other blogs, I keep seeing lists of links running usually down the right-hand side, and they all suspiciously seem to have the same blogs listed over and over. Everyone wants to seem (finger quotation marks) cool and in-the-know by having the most popular kids listed. Well here's the deal pantywaists, I'm going to rebel. That's right. I'm going my own way. So a call out to all you unknowns who are listed on nobody's links. Send me yours and I'll take a look. If you're unknown but I like your style, you're in like Flynn. If John August reads this and gets pissed, so be it, but while you're here John, wanna read my screenplay?
And a polite wave to http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/ who kindly let me use their flamingos for the small fee of including a link.
I am writing what I suppose could be called an ensemble screenplay. I hate that word, so snobbish and uptight. I should say I dislike that word because I do not feel as strongly about it as I do about words such as "dinner" and "jot." Now those words I hate. But my screenplay has a group of people living together in a large old house that has become apartments. In a story like this, there are two things that must be very strong: character and plot. Plot because if you're not careful, your people can just end up drifting around having a thousand conversations that go nowhere, and character because if you're not careful, they'll end up too much alike.
On that second note, I came across an interesting thread about voice (http://groups.google.com/group/misc.writing.screenplays.moderated/browse_thread/thread/82c88be732d66516#). There's a lot of good advice flying around in there, but to me, it all seems to boil down to this: see those people in your mind. See them, hear them. Write down what you're seeing and what they say. Yeah, there will be times that you have to nudge them or even give them an outright shove right off the fucking cliff, but for the most part, listen to them, and do not ever, ever limit them.
On the topic of reading threads and other blogs, I keep seeing lists of links running usually down the right-hand side, and they all suspiciously seem to have the same blogs listed over and over. Everyone wants to seem (finger quotation marks) cool and in-the-know by having the most popular kids listed. Well here's the deal pantywaists, I'm going to rebel. That's right. I'm going my own way. So a call out to all you unknowns who are listed on nobody's links. Send me yours and I'll take a look. If you're unknown but I like your style, you're in like Flynn. If John August reads this and gets pissed, so be it, but while you're here John, wanna read my screenplay?
And a polite wave to http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/ who kindly let me use their flamingos for the small fee of including a link.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Stones
Alas, I have been rejected again and not just once, but twice. I got nowhere with Nicholl and the Austin Film Festival.
I have read that you might as well just light your first ten or twelve screenplays on fire the second they are done and move on with your writing life because they will sink like stones. They are to be regarded as practice. Have I been simply lucky that the first one was a quarter-finalist and the second top 10%? Should I go ahead and get the matches anyway and just give up on them?
When a person encounters so many rejections from so many sources, they must have moments of stopping and wondering if this is a fool's errand. There is no way of knowing if there will ever be a "yes" in the future and therefore no way of knowing if continuing on is the thing to do or a waste of energy and emotion. I think about these things a lot.
There are some structures that began underwater. Someone had to figure out a way to set a foundation in the murky depths so that the part above would be solid. So they set down one stone in the bottom of the river, and then they set another on top of it, and another on top of that one. And when the structure was finished, no one ever gave a second's notice or appreciation to those stones at the bottom that were holding everything up, that were the beginning of it all.
I'll keep writing. And I'll appreciate the ones that sank like stones.
I have read that you might as well just light your first ten or twelve screenplays on fire the second they are done and move on with your writing life because they will sink like stones. They are to be regarded as practice. Have I been simply lucky that the first one was a quarter-finalist and the second top 10%? Should I go ahead and get the matches anyway and just give up on them?
When a person encounters so many rejections from so many sources, they must have moments of stopping and wondering if this is a fool's errand. There is no way of knowing if there will ever be a "yes" in the future and therefore no way of knowing if continuing on is the thing to do or a waste of energy and emotion. I think about these things a lot.
There are some structures that began underwater. Someone had to figure out a way to set a foundation in the murky depths so that the part above would be solid. So they set down one stone in the bottom of the river, and then they set another on top of it, and another on top of that one. And when the structure was finished, no one ever gave a second's notice or appreciation to those stones at the bottom that were holding everything up, that were the beginning of it all.
I'll keep writing. And I'll appreciate the ones that sank like stones.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Mr. Postman
Actually in my case, I have a Mrs. Postman, but all the same, I'm waiting on this much-mythologized person of the USPS. The Austin Film Festival should be mailing letters in the next few days with their site proclaiming it will be by 9/3. Last year I expected absolutely nothing from them. The screenplay I sent in was not really bowling me over, but I thought, "What the hell?" And then a few months later I got a letter saying it had made it to the glitz-n-glitter, World Famous Second Round, top 10%.
This year I majorly revamped another screenplay and sent that one for them to stick in their pipes and smoke. Hopefully they enjoyed the rich, full aroma and satisfying flavor. We'll see.
This year I majorly revamped another screenplay and sent that one for them to stick in their pipes and smoke. Hopefully they enjoyed the rich, full aroma and satisfying flavor. We'll see.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Blah Blah Blah
That's how I've been feeling this week. I don't know if it's mental, physical, metaphysical, bilingual, but whatever it is, I'm tired of it. Ready to shake it off and get back to being me.
And what the hell is up with the ads that have been appearing on here? They used to be screenwriting related and now they're ... definitely not.
I realize I need to get set up on a regular schedule of not only writing, but of everything-elsing, too. The very core of me resists schedules, hates them, despises them, repels them. I always have. But I guess it's like the addict finally realizing that rehab, no matter how disgusting it sounds, is really what they need. I need the rigid schoolmarm to force me into making progress, little by little, day by day.
Writers are notorious for putting it off. We seem to procrastinate on everything given the slightest chance. We keep saying things like, "There's not enough time today for me to get much done, so I'll just stick my hands down the front of my pants and watch TV. This weekend, well, this weekend will be completely different. I'll have all that time, and I'll get so much dooonnnne." Then this weekend comes, and we sleep until 1:00 p.m. and at 3:25 p.m., we're still sitting around in our pajamas. Yeah, way to go.
So here's what I'm gonna do until I get a schedule figured out - I'm gonna blame you. I never hear from you people. Some comments, positive or negative, would let me know I'm not floating alone out in cyberspace. And maybe if we could get the discussion going in the right direction, the ads would get better.
And what the hell is up with the ads that have been appearing on here? They used to be screenwriting related and now they're ... definitely not.
I realize I need to get set up on a regular schedule of not only writing, but of everything-elsing, too. The very core of me resists schedules, hates them, despises them, repels them. I always have. But I guess it's like the addict finally realizing that rehab, no matter how disgusting it sounds, is really what they need. I need the rigid schoolmarm to force me into making progress, little by little, day by day.
Writers are notorious for putting it off. We seem to procrastinate on everything given the slightest chance. We keep saying things like, "There's not enough time today for me to get much done, so I'll just stick my hands down the front of my pants and watch TV. This weekend, well, this weekend will be completely different. I'll have all that time, and I'll get so much dooonnnne." Then this weekend comes, and we sleep until 1:00 p.m. and at 3:25 p.m., we're still sitting around in our pajamas. Yeah, way to go.
So here's what I'm gonna do until I get a schedule figured out - I'm gonna blame you. I never hear from you people. Some comments, positive or negative, would let me know I'm not floating alone out in cyberspace. And maybe if we could get the discussion going in the right direction, the ads would get better.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
What is in a date?
"I just remembered that today's my birthday." This sentence was spoken by Nick, a character in F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. It seems surprising that anybody would forget something like that, but people do it all the time. I do it.
"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day..."
From Shakespeare's Macbeth. Possibly explaining why people forget that it's their birthday.
We live from day to day and generally don't pay a whole lot of notice to the date. And then we wonder why it didn't hit us that it's our birthday or anniversary or the day we were supposed to be at the dentist and dammit now I'm gonna have to make another appointment and they'll probably charge me for not giving 24-hour notice. The calendar, the dates, hell, all of time, is just so arbitrary and made up. Humans are the ones who stick Post-it notes on the days in our pitiful attempts to label them, name them, put our mark on them. But the days will creep on at their petty pace with absolutely no heed for us.
You're probably expecting my next quote to be from "Dust in the wind" by Kansas, right? Well, forget it. I hate that song. I'm just raveling a thread that started with the realization that I missed my anniversary on a screenwriting group I'm part of. It has been an everyday enjoyment for me for over a year (I joined on Friday the 13th, June 2008. Is that another meaningless date or something ominously foreboding?) I feel like I know these people, and I even recently mourned the death of one of its members, a colorful, wonderful lady whom I always loved hearing from. But this date slipped right by me.
Do birthdays matter? Do dates matter? Do we really need to stop and acknowledge the anniversary of every freaking thing? I don't know. But it seems to be human nature to try to hang on to them.
"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day..."
From Shakespeare's Macbeth. Possibly explaining why people forget that it's their birthday.
We live from day to day and generally don't pay a whole lot of notice to the date. And then we wonder why it didn't hit us that it's our birthday or anniversary or the day we were supposed to be at the dentist and dammit now I'm gonna have to make another appointment and they'll probably charge me for not giving 24-hour notice. The calendar, the dates, hell, all of time, is just so arbitrary and made up. Humans are the ones who stick Post-it notes on the days in our pitiful attempts to label them, name them, put our mark on them. But the days will creep on at their petty pace with absolutely no heed for us.
You're probably expecting my next quote to be from "Dust in the wind" by Kansas, right? Well, forget it. I hate that song. I'm just raveling a thread that started with the realization that I missed my anniversary on a screenwriting group I'm part of. It has been an everyday enjoyment for me for over a year (I joined on Friday the 13th, June 2008. Is that another meaningless date or something ominously foreboding?) I feel like I know these people, and I even recently mourned the death of one of its members, a colorful, wonderful lady whom I always loved hearing from. But this date slipped right by me.
Do birthdays matter? Do dates matter? Do we really need to stop and acknowledge the anniversary of every freaking thing? I don't know. But it seems to be human nature to try to hang on to them.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
The pen is mightier
I flipped over to a fellow screenwriter's blog (http://iamphilipnight.blogspot.com/) and saw something that really caught my attention - hand writing a script. It reminded me so much of when I first started writing. Everything was handwritten and then typed up later. I wrote my entire first script longhand and then typed it up after I had it all, AND it was in no particular order, AND it ended up being about 160 pages after I got it all in there. Major editing. But I loved it.
I've gotten to where now I tend to go right to the electronic pen and paper. But I wonder (little tribute to Carrie Bradshaw here) was I happier doing it the old fashioned way? It seemed like I was so connected to the story and so ready to just dive right into it every day. We were more linked, and best of all, I could work on it any time, anywhere. I was holding the instrument right in my hand and the ideas flowed into it. Now, it seems maybe a little ... colder.
So I'm thinking my pen should not languish any longer. It has served me well and will again. Thank you, Phillip, for reminding me.
I've gotten to where now I tend to go right to the electronic pen and paper. But I wonder (little tribute to Carrie Bradshaw here) was I happier doing it the old fashioned way? It seemed like I was so connected to the story and so ready to just dive right into it every day. We were more linked, and best of all, I could work on it any time, anywhere. I was holding the instrument right in my hand and the ideas flowed into it. Now, it seems maybe a little ... colder.
So I'm thinking my pen should not languish any longer. It has served me well and will again. Thank you, Phillip, for reminding me.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
My Job
I realize I haven't said much about my new job. One of the founding fathers of this blog was my joblessness and search for a new one, whether it be in screenwriting, flipping burgers, digging ditches, or a combo of all three (what would that be like?)
It started as part-time and became full-time pretty quickly which was good of course. And I like the job and people I'm working with, learning a lot of new ideas and skills which always appeals to me. The only thing that sort of had me walking around there with a question mark over my head was the lack of ... dirt. I'm not talking about actual soil and grime, although it is a very clean facility. I'm talking about dirt, you know, stories, affairs, fighting, gossip, all that. The other place I worked was chock full of it. It was so thick around us it almost made it worth going in every day just to find out what the hell was next.
But these people seemed nearly angelic. I started to wonder if I might be working in some secret branch of the church. But then, it started trickling in. A comment here. An overheard conversation there. Like I said, just a little trickle at first. And then it was like the dam wall suddenly exploded and here it all comes. I feel right at home.
I just hope they realize their full legal names, addresses, and all their sordid stories will be in my next screenplay ; )
It started as part-time and became full-time pretty quickly which was good of course. And I like the job and people I'm working with, learning a lot of new ideas and skills which always appeals to me. The only thing that sort of had me walking around there with a question mark over my head was the lack of ... dirt. I'm not talking about actual soil and grime, although it is a very clean facility. I'm talking about dirt, you know, stories, affairs, fighting, gossip, all that. The other place I worked was chock full of it. It was so thick around us it almost made it worth going in every day just to find out what the hell was next.
But these people seemed nearly angelic. I started to wonder if I might be working in some secret branch of the church. But then, it started trickling in. A comment here. An overheard conversation there. Like I said, just a little trickle at first. And then it was like the dam wall suddenly exploded and here it all comes. I feel right at home.
I just hope they realize their full legal names, addresses, and all their sordid stories will be in my next screenplay ; )
Saturday, May 30, 2009
F#@% IT ALL TO HELL! I got a Rejection Letter!
Actually not recently, but I have received them before, usually in electronic form. I'm just intrigued by people's reactions to these letters. Some let it roll off them. Some get down in the floor and throw a tantrum toddler-style. Some cry.
I read articles and postings all the time about what people do with these letters. They're putting them on bulletin boards. They're using them as tickets into I-Got-Rejected-Too parties. They're papering their walls. They're making mobiles. These people put a lot of thought and effort into finding something to do with these FOND communications. Why?
I guess they're trying to make themselves feel better about it, trying to show those little bastards who's boss. Does it work? I don't know. I tend to just let mine fall wherever they may. There are probably still some in my hotmail although I'm not entirely sure of that. There may be some in my files, but if there are, it was simply a way of reminding me when I pull out a particular company's file what exactly happened between those no-talent, blind, couldn't-find-a-good-story-with-both-hands-and-a ..... woooo, what happened there? Maybe I should start doing something with them, make origami bird houses or whatever.
Seriously though, they don't make me angry or sad or suicidal or manic or anything in between. I see them for exactly what they are: to be entirely expected. The most successful screenwriter in the world was rejected many, many, many, many times. I wish I could remember where I saw a recent posting by another blogger about using the letters as percentages to show you whether or not your query letter is effective. I'll try to find that again. And if you've got some really original ideas on what to do with rejection letters, enlighten us all.
I read articles and postings all the time about what people do with these letters. They're putting them on bulletin boards. They're using them as tickets into I-Got-Rejected-Too parties. They're papering their walls. They're making mobiles. These people put a lot of thought and effort into finding something to do with these FOND communications. Why?
I guess they're trying to make themselves feel better about it, trying to show those little bastards who's boss. Does it work? I don't know. I tend to just let mine fall wherever they may. There are probably still some in my hotmail although I'm not entirely sure of that. There may be some in my files, but if there are, it was simply a way of reminding me when I pull out a particular company's file what exactly happened between those no-talent, blind, couldn't-find-a-good-story-with-both-hands-and-a ..... woooo, what happened there? Maybe I should start doing something with them, make origami bird houses or whatever.
Seriously though, they don't make me angry or sad or suicidal or manic or anything in between. I see them for exactly what they are: to be entirely expected. The most successful screenwriter in the world was rejected many, many, many, many times. I wish I could remember where I saw a recent posting by another blogger about using the letters as percentages to show you whether or not your query letter is effective. I'll try to find that again. And if you've got some really original ideas on what to do with rejection letters, enlighten us all.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
After-Nicholl Naptime
I am exhausted. Happy but exhausted. I got the revisions finished and got my screenplay in to the Nicholl Fellowship. I worked my ass off this week, but it still wasn't quite enough. It got down to the wire last night, and I decided I would have to send it in as is, time's running out. I got over to their website, and hey, guess what, they extended the deadline by one day. Apparently they took pity on the procrastinators. I wouldn't have. Glad they did.
So I got to spend more time on it today and got things more polished. Does anybody ever get one to the point where you feel like it's perfect, or is everyone like me and you just get to the point where you feel like you're probably going to start making it worse if you keep on and you better just stop now? I have stared at that thing way too much today.
Congrats to all who entered. It's a source of pride in itself. And to those who entered early - shut up.
So I got to spend more time on it today and got things more polished. Does anybody ever get one to the point where you feel like it's perfect, or is everyone like me and you just get to the point where you feel like you're probably going to start making it worse if you keep on and you better just stop now? I have stared at that thing way too much today.
Congrats to all who entered. It's a source of pride in itself. And to those who entered early - shut up.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
The Screenwriting Bug
As most writers do, I spend a big part of my days lifting my cat up to the ceiling so he can catch bugs. Today as I was providing crane services I started wondering, how often does one writer do this for another? Lift him up, I mean, not feed him bugs.
Are we a selfish, jealous bunch that try to hoard all the money and glory for ourselves and shut out the others? There are plenty of industries where this is the norm. Do we turn a blind eye when we see a talented writer and happen to know someone looking for just that style?
I have looked within myself and without for the answers, and I say no, we're not like that. Over and over, I see screenwriters extending a hand, showing the way, and patting a down writer on the back. I see the ones who have made it who then turn around and take the time to write blogs with writing and business tips, go to festivals, answer questions, genuinely try to help because they remember vividly the struggle. I see this willingness to help all up and down the ladder, the ones on top, in the middle, and down here at the bottom where I live. I see the generosity in the universities amongst the student writers and professors and all over the internet. These are people who make nary a dime from giving advice and help, but they do it anyway. Do we do these things just because it's another forum for writing or is a writer inherently helpful?
A screenwriter has to be spiritual and inward-looking in some way and to some degree. I think they help because they love the way it feels.
So lift up another writer. There are enough tasty bugs up there for all of us.
Are we a selfish, jealous bunch that try to hoard all the money and glory for ourselves and shut out the others? There are plenty of industries where this is the norm. Do we turn a blind eye when we see a talented writer and happen to know someone looking for just that style?
I have looked within myself and without for the answers, and I say no, we're not like that. Over and over, I see screenwriters extending a hand, showing the way, and patting a down writer on the back. I see the ones who have made it who then turn around and take the time to write blogs with writing and business tips, go to festivals, answer questions, genuinely try to help because they remember vividly the struggle. I see this willingness to help all up and down the ladder, the ones on top, in the middle, and down here at the bottom where I live. I see the generosity in the universities amongst the student writers and professors and all over the internet. These are people who make nary a dime from giving advice and help, but they do it anyway. Do we do these things just because it's another forum for writing or is a writer inherently helpful?
A screenwriter has to be spiritual and inward-looking in some way and to some degree. I think they help because they love the way it feels.
So lift up another writer. There are enough tasty bugs up there for all of us.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Uncle Sam and Don and Gee Nicholl
What do they have in common? Most people wait until the last freaking minute to send them their paperwork and money.
Did you get your taxes in on time? Were you one of the thousands lined up 'til all hours at the post office? Did the Dominos delivery guy bring your supper to you in the line that snaked out into the street? I would sneer at you, but since I'll be one of those taking corners on two wheels to get to the post office on May 1 for the Nicholl Fellowship, I guess I can't. But on the other hand, the Nicholl is not required of all Americans. I got my taxes in early this month and even received my state refund already. Nanny nanny boo boo.
The Nicholl Fellowship. Say these words around any screenwriter and watch their eyes glisten. I've never entered before, but I will this year. Come hell or high water, half-written screenplays with jam on them stuffed into Wal-Mart sacks, I'll be entering this year. It's the run for the roses.
If you would like to join this mad dash, here's their site: http://www.oscars.org/awards/nicholl/index.html. The competition is fierce, but if you can even reach semi-finals, it's a pretty feather for your cap and your query letter.
Did you get your taxes in on time? Were you one of the thousands lined up 'til all hours at the post office? Did the Dominos delivery guy bring your supper to you in the line that snaked out into the street? I would sneer at you, but since I'll be one of those taking corners on two wheels to get to the post office on May 1 for the Nicholl Fellowship, I guess I can't. But on the other hand, the Nicholl is not required of all Americans. I got my taxes in early this month and even received my state refund already. Nanny nanny boo boo.
The Nicholl Fellowship. Say these words around any screenwriter and watch their eyes glisten. I've never entered before, but I will this year. Come hell or high water, half-written screenplays with jam on them stuffed into Wal-Mart sacks, I'll be entering this year. It's the run for the roses.
If you would like to join this mad dash, here's their site: http://www.oscars.org/awards/nicholl/index.html. The competition is fierce, but if you can even reach semi-finals, it's a pretty feather for your cap and your query letter.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Stand Up for Your Movie
You know what I hate? Snobs. Movie snobs. You know why? Because they try to use their pretend hatred of certain movies or certain genres and their embracing of certain others as sure signs of their own sophistication and intelligence. You know what this reminds me of? When you buy a great outfit and somebody says to you, "Hey that's a great outfit," and you say, "Thank you," as if you made the effin' thing yourself. This is simply a person trying to portray to society that their tastes are a sure sign of their so being above the riff-raff that they shouldn't even be forced to live on this bourgeois planet we riff-raff like to call Earth in our lowlife kinda way.
I watched Pretty in Pink today. I've seen it before, but I watched it again today on DVD, paying particular attention to the commentary. Some people want nothing to do with the commentary and consider it a waste, but it's really a great way to step into the shoes of the people who wrote and made the movie, find out what they were shooting for, how they felt about it, take a look around through their eyes. It was inspiring. I already liked the movie before, but I had a new, deeper appreciation afterward. It's a love story. Nothing more. They were not trying to make something historically breathtaking or something to shake the foundations. They were just trying to tell a love story. Love stories are great and are needed and ... loved. Despite what the critics say.
So when everybody else around you is following the popular herd like beaten sheep because they are scared poopless to say, "I liked Lady in the Water," and be thought of as stupid and tasteless, stand right on up and declare what you love, what moved you, which scenes you thought were so excruciatingly human and real, what made you laugh. That's what a movie is for.
I watched Pretty in Pink today. I've seen it before, but I watched it again today on DVD, paying particular attention to the commentary. Some people want nothing to do with the commentary and consider it a waste, but it's really a great way to step into the shoes of the people who wrote and made the movie, find out what they were shooting for, how they felt about it, take a look around through their eyes. It was inspiring. I already liked the movie before, but I had a new, deeper appreciation afterward. It's a love story. Nothing more. They were not trying to make something historically breathtaking or something to shake the foundations. They were just trying to tell a love story. Love stories are great and are needed and ... loved. Despite what the critics say.
So when everybody else around you is following the popular herd like beaten sheep because they are scared poopless to say, "I liked Lady in the Water," and be thought of as stupid and tasteless, stand right on up and declare what you love, what moved you, which scenes you thought were so excruciatingly human and real, what made you laugh. That's what a movie is for.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Lazy or Busy?
I really need to get back to writing. I mean, even my blog is lagging behind, and it only requires a couple paragraphs every week or so. I could use the excuse that I've been so focused on finding a job, and I have, but it's not completely true. I mean, nobody can search for a job 10 or 12 hours a day. There're going to be a few minutes at least here and there.
As for the job hunting, I did get a job back in the same building that I used to work in two years ago. It is part-time right now, but they assure me it will become full-time. I have to say, other than the less money part, part-time is sweeeet. But then again, even more of a guilt trip because I should be using that not-working time each day to revise and write.
The thing is, talking on here usually gets me going again. I don't know why. Sort of self-therapy. I talk to myself, and of course to you, and I get the thoughts out there and that makes them a real thing, a spur, a spiky little monster that will not let up until I get writing again. Sometimes the monsters are good for you. And sometimes you kinda like 'em.
As for the job hunting, I did get a job back in the same building that I used to work in two years ago. It is part-time right now, but they assure me it will become full-time. I have to say, other than the less money part, part-time is sweeeet. But then again, even more of a guilt trip because I should be using that not-working time each day to revise and write.
The thing is, talking on here usually gets me going again. I don't know why. Sort of self-therapy. I talk to myself, and of course to you, and I get the thoughts out there and that makes them a real thing, a spur, a spiky little monster that will not let up until I get writing again. Sometimes the monsters are good for you. And sometimes you kinda like 'em.
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