Live To Write Another Day (12 page)

As I discussed in the previous chapter, among the many things I truly cherish about being a writer are the bonds of friendship and camaraderie I’ve forged over the years with other writers. On a practical level, these bonds are an important way to learn and grow, as even the most casual conversation with a writer friend can spark a new idea or shed some light on a frustrating problem. On another level, they’re like comfort food, a reminder that we’re not alone, that we have brethren out there toiling in the trenches. On an even deeper level, I believe these bonds are the result of a much more powerful impulse, that as creative storytellers we are bound together by a higher purpose, a calling to be the cultural record keepers of our generation.

Now that you’ve gotten to know me a little bit, I’m sure you understand how passionate I am about this calling, that I really do see the writing life as something you have no choice but to pursue if you have the writer gene, and that it’s an epic struggle in which you must be a warrior of the highest order, the hero of your own story.

You owe it to yourself to be that hero, to honor that calling each and every day, regardless of your circumstances, regardless of your previous successes or failures, regardless of whether the journey takes you into calm seas or into the most violent of storms.

You may not share all my feelings about writing or see eye to eye with me on everything in this survival guide, but if nothing else, I hope I have at least given you a little inspiration and created yet another bond within our sacred tribe. You have my utmost respect for being a writer, for having the fortitude to bear your soul on the page day after day, for taking the chance that you may never be able to make that idea work—or that even when you do, that story may never quite get its fair day in court with the many gatekeepers who never seem to miss an opportunity to deny you the key to the city.

I know how difficult it is to do what you’re trying to do, how much of yourself it requires, how agonizing it is when all that effort fails to bear any fruit, either artistically or financially. And, boy, do I know how hard it is to pick yourself up off the canvas for the umpteenth time, to draw your sword and take another swing at that monstrous creature…again and again and again.

All I can say is:

Don’t stop swinging! Don’t stop taking those chances, because it’s out of all that vulnerability, out of all that risk taking, that the most profound work inevitably emerges.

No great script was ever written by a writer playing it safe. So whatever you do, never be afraid to sail into those uncharted waters. Never be afraid to go down with the ship. There’s not a writer on this earth who hasn’t come up short on what they once thought was the most brilliant idea, so you won’t be the first and you certainly won’t be the last. It’s on the rubble of those discarded pages that the foundation of your career will ultimately be built, and not one of your successes will come without the many failings that came before it. Not that success is ever guaranteed, but if you have the courage to go on this journey in the first place, then I believe you’ll have the courage to see it through, and there will never be a doubt in your mind as to whether or not you were up to the challenge.

Just know that your voice is worthy of being heard, that the fight to make it heard is never in vain, and that if you stay true to that voice, if you commit to developing your skills and continue to hone and love
your process, if you always remember that the story is out there in its purest and most perfect form, that it exists separately from you, and that you are both its mother and its guardian, your work will always be consistent and unique to who you are.

Most importantly, if you can learn how to share your story with the common culture, to let it be influenced but not misguided, to change and revise it in ways that not only deepen its characters and shore up its structure, but also magnify its core message, then there are no limits to the writer you can become.

All you have to do is hang in there a little longer, tune that story in a little clearer, and live to write another day.

1. The Writer Gene

Things to Remember:

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If you’re a person who is driven to tell stories with words, then you have the writer gene.

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Guess what—you’re not alone.

2. The Art of Procrastination

Things to Remember:

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Procrastination is part of the creative process.

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Procrastination is only bad if you create anxiety about procrastinating. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Use it.

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You are both a passive and active channel of information when you write.

Questions to Ask Yourself:

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What procrastination activities contribute to your process? Make a list.

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What procrastination activities are destructive to your process? Make a list.

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How much procrastination time will you allow yourself when you sit down to write? Be specific.

3. The Write Environment

Things to Remember:

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To be productive on a regular basis, find environments that are consistently available to you.

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Make sure these environments have limited distractions and temptations. All you really need is a desk, a chair, and a power outlet.

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If an environment works for you, keep using it! It won’t take long for you to associate it with successful writing, which will help build your confidence.

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A change of scenery sometimes helps the creative flow.

Questions to Ask Yourself:

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Which parts of your process can you do in a noisier environment, and which require absolute quietude? Make a list.

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Of the different environments available to you, which can you work in on a consistent basis? Can you make each of them a reliable writing silo?

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What are the available hours of each of your writing silos? Make a list.

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How many hours on any given day do you need to spend in each silo to be productive? Plan it out ahead of time.

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Is there a place near you where other writers write? It’s always good to be around other writers.

4. Writer’s Bl%#k

Things to Remember:

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Writer’s bl%#k is a myth. Every creative problem has a creative solution.

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All writers experience crisis moments.

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Knowing that the solution to the crisis exists is half the battle.

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The other half of the battle is having a process that you can rely on.

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Breathe.

Questions to Ask Yourself:

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Have you run into this problem before? Most of the time the answer is “yes.” How did you solve it last time?

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If you haven’t run into this specific problem before, how is it similar to other problems you’ve encountered?

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How long did it take you to solve your last crisis? Be conscious of this time factor. There’s usually a pattern.

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What is the strongest aspect of your core concept? Are you still speaking to it or have you strayed? Don’t panic. Just take some time to re-examine the big picture.

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Is there a specific place earlier in your story (preceding the crisis point) that is not quite as solid as you thought? Take a good look. This is probably the root of your problem.

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Are you remembering to breathe?

5. Tuning In the Radio

Things to Remember:

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All original stories exist in a perfect state as thought forms that are separate from you. Listen and tune them in like a radio signal.

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Begin with research. This is the soundest foundation you can set for your process.

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By taking the time to build a foundation of research, crisis moments are less likely to occur.

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Be a passive channel of information while you research, taking lots of notes without editing yourself. Let the ideas flow without judgment.

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Transcribe your notes at the end of your research period. Creating this Notes Document allows you to kick off your project without ever having to stare at a blank page.

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Create a Concept Document from your Notes Document. Avoid the temptation to rush into the outline or the first draft.

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Structure your story by writing the scenes on index cards or a whiteboard so you can view them as separate moments, rearranging them as necessary.

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Begin your outline by writing down all the scenes you have so far. Get all your ideas on the table without worrying about getting the story right. Your process will naturally fill in the blanks.

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Describe the scenes in your outline without actually writing them. Your outline is a road map, not the final product.

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Note deeper character motivations and other important story points in your outline. The deeper you dig, the more material you will have to work with.

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Once you’ve figured out most of your story structure, write all the scenes down on one or two pages of a legal pad, using one line for each scene, then skim the story to see if it flows.

Questions to Ask Yourself:

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What is the backdrop of your story and how can you learn more about it?

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Which websites will tell you more about your story’s larger world and help you develop important details about your characters? Identify and print relevant materials. Bookmark the sites for future reference.

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Which books are available that will educate you about your story’s world and its characters?

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Do you know anyone who is an expert in a field that will help you tell your story? If so, arrange to interview them and record their answers.

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How would you describe your story to someone in just a sentence or two? (Logline)

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What are you trying to say with this story? (Theme)

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What does the voice of the piece sound like? (Tone)

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Who inhabits this world? What are their backgrounds, flaws, hopes, and dreams? What compels them to do what they do? (Characters)

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What is your basic story? (Story Summary)

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What previously published or produced works are close in genre, tone, and structure to your story? Make a list, then study and breakdown those works.

6. This Draft’s for You

Things to Remember:

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Don’t share your original story with anyone before you’ve written your first draft. Let it develop free from outside influence.

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The real reason you write is to experience the joy of expressing yourself. Never lose touch with this simple fact.

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No matter how much you’ve written in your life you must still start at square one each time, and make each story work in its own unique way.

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Every story you write is an exorcism, a way of freeing yourself from thoughts or feelings you can’t quite resolve any other way.

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The moment you give your script to someone else to read, you have given it to the world. There is no turning back.

Questions to Ask Yourself:

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How is your life experience shaping this work? What’s going on in your life right now that you’re struggling with? What villainy, past or present, are you personally trying to overcome?

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How can you infuse the struggles of your personal life into your story’s main conflict? How can you infuse them into your main character?

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Have you done absolutely everything with your first draft that you set out to do? Don’t leave any stone unturned.

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Are you 100% sure that you’re ready to give your script to someone for feedback? Are you truly ready to let it be shaped by the common culture?

7. The Art of Giving Notes

Things to Remember:

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If you understand how to give good notes to another writer, you will have a much better understanding of what to do with notes, good or bad, when you receive them.

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Have a constructive attitude when giving notes to another writer. Make them feel that you are on their team.

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Always offer concrete ideas that writers can potentially use to improve their story. Don’t just identify problems.

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All writers need encouragement more than anything else, especially writers who are just starting out.

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It’s always easier to see flaws in other writers’ work than it is to see them in your own. Have some empathy and some humility.

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Giving good notes on a story takes work. Make sure you’re committed before you agree to take the plunge.

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Focus your notes on the “big idea” of the writer’s story.

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Focus your notes on the writer’s setups and payoffs.

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Focus your notes on the writer’s characters.

Questions to Ask Yourself:

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What is the writer trying to say? Is the message clear? If not, this is a great place to begin your note-giving process.

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What are the three most salient notes that you can give that “reverberate” with the theme of the writer’s work?

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If a moment in the writer’s story isn’t working, is there a moment earlier in the narrative that didn’t quite set it up adequately? Chances are, there is.

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Does the behavior of each character make sense for the situation?

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What does each character want in each scene?

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What does each character want from the other characters in the story?

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What does each character want on a deeper, subconscious level?

8. The Art of Receiving Notes

Things to Remember:

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Keep an open mind.

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Your story will never stop being told and is in a constant state of change.

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There is nothing precious about your story but its core message.

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Shape the notes you receive by asking follow-up questions and getting more specifics out of your note givers.
Mine for gold
.

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Always value your note givers’ opinions.

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Ignore the notes you don’t think are useable. Don’t waste time arguing about them.

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Choose your note givers wisely, according to their strengths and taste in material.

Questions to Ask Yourself:

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Which notes apply to the core message of your story and which apply to specific details?

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Which notes support your core message? Which ones don’t?

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What follow-up questions can you ask that will help shape the notes into usable ideas?

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Are any of the notes from multiple note givers the same? Chances are those notes are valid.

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Are there any notes that felt right but that your note giver couldn’t quite articulate? What was their intuition trying to tell you? What was the note beneath their note?

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How invested in your success is your note giver?

9. The Art of Executing Notes

Things to Remember:

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Once you’re ready to start your rewrite, it’s time to tune out your note giver.
The note giver has left the building
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A major revision means there are significant changes that need to be made to the structure of the story.

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A minor revision may involve adding or removing selected scenes, but mostly entails revising action and dialogue within the existing structure.