My default mode is to focus on the next project, just keep grinding away. Head back into my writer's cave and toil on story and dialogue. It is where I feel most comfortable, even more so after a pandemic year. And I have a list of projects that need attention to be presentable.
However, I am restless. Restless for a number of reasons.
I am fully vaccinated and the weather is amazing. This means I can meet up with more people and even travel.
But that is not the only reason I am a bit unsettled. I got a lot of writing work done over the past year. It was one of my most productive years in some time. For that, I am grateful. Having done all that work has me in the fortuitous position of having numerous projects ready, or close to ready, for me to peddle my wares to a hopefully receptive audience.
While I have become a better salesman over the years, the art of self-promotion has never been my strong suit. The thought of facing the frontlines of rejection yet again makes me want to head back into my writer's cave and just keep grinding.
Change is in the air. Maybe it's being vaccinated. Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it's something else. But I am reluctant to just carry on like I have the past year. I feel it may be time to come out of my cave and actually try and get my work into the right hands. It has been too long since I made a full-frontal assault on Hollywood.
The ghosts of the 2009 Screenwriter's Expo still haunt me. I have failed so many times with so many projects that I must be certifiably mad at this point. And yet I persist. A part of me is happy just to keep writing with only a few people laying eyes on the worlds I have created. I write to experience these new yet familiar worlds. I can see and feel them better than most people can remember their 18th birthday. They exist because I exist. That is powerful.
But there is a part of me that wants to share my work with people, maybe even make a few dollars from all my hard work. I've gone so long without tasting the success I once sought that my idea of success has changed over time.
I live to write. I do not write to live.
My fear is that if I had to write to live would I still be true to myself? Would my stories lose their potency?
I have avoided answering those questions accidentally on purpose. I have been afraid of change. Afraid of taking risks. Not because I live a glamourous life, but because I fear leaving the path I have been on, my routine. I love my writer's cave and the stories I have created.
The experience I had at the Screenwriter's Expo felt much like what Killian experienced at the beginning of Iron Man 3. He got his expectations up to meet Tony Stark to discuss his big idea, believing Tony would fall in love with it and be the answer to all of his dreams. And he was left alone up on the roof to ring in the New Year feeling like a schmuck.
Putting yourself out there is tough. Rejection is hell. Doing it again and again is madness. And yet I find myself at the edge of that abyss once more. Not by choice, I'd rather jump back into writing two mini-series in progress. But a part of me sees that as foolish. Foolish because I have what I need to succeed already. The work is done. The time feels right. I believe I must put my fears to the side and be brave once more. It may all go tits up yet again, but like the motto of my favorite team says, "To Dare is to Do."
And when I tire of the rejection, I can always head back into my cave and finish up a mini-series. Until then, it's time to polish my pitch, put on a smile, and let the games begin.
No comments:
Post a Comment