We all have our demons to battle in life. The difference between us writers and everyone else in the world is that we’re driven to battle them with words—which means that every story we tell is an exorcism on some level, a constructive way of emancipating ourselves of thoughts and feelings we couldn’t possibly resolve in any other way.
Letting Go
Congratulations, you’ve finished your first draft. Woohoo! Guess what? Now it’s time to let it go.
“What?” you say. “You just spent the last five pages telling me how important it is to keep this thing to myself, to nurture it, to savor it, to not tell another living soul about it, and now you expect me to let it go? Just like that?”
Yup. Here’s why. Now that you’re done with that first draft, this brainchild of yours is ready to be born. And just like a real live human child, from the moment you introduce it into the world, it’s no longer just yours anymore. There’s a whole host of other people who will immediately have an influence on it, beginning with the very first person who reads it. You have no choice but to cut the umbilical cord at some point. The only choice that remains is when to cut it. So always, always, always make sure you’re 100% psychologically prepared before you do.
The key to this tricky piece of business is to remain humble and remember that this story exists separately from you, that it’s a privilege to have been blessed with the gifts to tune it in and carry it to term. Your job now is to be the best steward you can be. Allow your story to be influenced by others, but also make sure the influence is positive and constructive and doesn’t dilute the original intention or the core message you’re trying to convey. It’s never easy, but with the right frame of mind there’s always a way to rise to this occasion.
For most writers, novices and veterans alike, this can be a pretty anxious time. It’s worth noting, though not necessarily any more comforting, that storytelling has never been a one-way experience. From prehistoric campfires to the stages of Aeschylus and Molière, to the bright lights of Broadway and Hollywood, writers’ works have always been shaped by the common culture. After all, that is your goal as a storyteller, right? You want to share your stories with the world—you want to let other people be a part of them, don’t you?
Like it or not, at this point of the process, your story, like the millions that have come before it, now belongs to everyone. And the sooner you accept this fact, the better off both you and your story will be.
SURVIVAL GUIDE SUMMARY
6. This Draft’s for You
Things to Remember:
•Don’t share your original story with anyone before you’ve written your first draft. Let it develop free from outside influence.
•The real reason you write is to experience the joy of expressing yourself. Never lose touch with this simple fact.
•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.
•Every story you write is an exorcism, a way of freeing yourself from thoughts or feelings you can’t quite resolve any other way.
•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:
•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?
•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?
•Have you done absolutely everything with your first draft that you set out to do? Don’t leave any stone unturned.
•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
You may be wondering why I’ve decided to include a chapter on giving script notes in this survival guide, as well as why I’ve chosen to place it before the chapter on receiving script notes. To be honest with you, I spent a lot of time thinking about this myself, and the conclusion I finally reached was this:
If you understand how to give a good note to another writer, then you will have a much better understanding of what to do with a note, good or bad, when you receive one.
I have to admit that part of me is also writing this chapter for all those producers, executives, editors, dramaturges, agents, and anyone else out there whose job involves giving notes to creative writers. If I can shed any light on the writer’s psyche with respect to this process, and give you folks a few pointers as to how to be more effective, then that would be yet another proud feather in my cap.
Have a Constructive Attitude
To say that you should always give constructive criticism to another writer is kind of like saying that you need to brush your teeth every day. It’s the healthy thing to do (for both of you).
According to my dictionary, the definition of constructive is “to serve a useful purpose” or “to build up.” This means that as the person giving notes you have to do more than just identify problems. You have to offer ideas for potential solutions. You have to actually be constructive.
Remember, you are trying to help another writer tell a story as best as they can. So first and foremost, you need to make that writer feel that you’re on their team, that you are right there beside them on this construction project, wearing a hard hat—not just some pencil pusher who doesn’t want to get his or her hands dirty. Nothing will
