Radiation Level: Causing tornadoes in Massachusetts
Listening To: An Island by Superhumanoids
Writing takes time. Hours of anguish and sore wrists. Writer’s block. Writer’s purge. Merciless editing. It’s painful. All writers know this. And yet, all writers procrastinate. I’m no exception. Knowing I had to turn in a list of characters and synopsis of my pilot by June 1st, you’d think I would have started before May 29th. Nope.
The last few days have been nuts. I’ve been desperately trying to meet the deadline and was forced to extend the deadline a day. Sure, I’m not the first writer to turn in something late, but the good student in me feels like an a-hole. I haven’t been working with my manager long enough to tell when his threats are dead serious and when he’s just trying to scare me. I guess I should just err on the side of being seriously scared all the time.
Thanks to RosieGirl today, who, over a filet of sole, gave me some of the best notes I’ve ever gotten. I’m not surprised. She’s one of the best in Hollywood. And I’m going to happily hem her jeans in gratitude.
I’m really working on not sabotaging myself. Something I’ve done many times over the years. When I was younger, I assumed the opportunity du jour was one of many opportunities yet to visit me. Now that I’m older, I know the contrary is true. I understand that ANY opportunity is probably my last and if I don’t bite onto it like a shark, I’ll end up as Hollywood chum myself.
That said, I’m giving this pilot 110%. I’m committing hundreds of hours of my time without any assurance money will follow. I’m investing my hopes and dreams into it. Risking being painfully rejected. Rebuffed. Rebuked. Insulted. Broken down. Torn up. Taking the risk that after all the work, I may have nothing to show for it. But that is the game. And it’s time to roll the dice…