BLOG 3 – IT’S FINISHED! NOW REWRITE IT.
My tail is be
tween my legs. I did not finish my script entirely. BUT, because of the commitment I made, and sassy remarks many of you left on my Facebook page, I worked harder than usual, and got a LOT accomplished. Thanks to you, my script is now 92 pages, and is complete enough that I paid my $20 to register it with the WGA, and can now tell you the name: Tijuana Train. Ta-da! Three more small scenes and it will be totally done. And by done, I mean ready for a year of re-writes. I have friends who are in the process of writing their first script, and I am afraid to tell them that “finishing” it means you are really just starting. I don’t want to spoil their fun.
My first script, Teenage Dirtbag, is a memoir-style drama, a genre that I feel very comfortable in as a writer. This second script, Tijuana Train, is an action-comedy and I just know it sucks. Action-comedy? Who do I think I am?! It's a pile of dung. In fact, a dung beatle is trying to roll it off of my desktop right now.
Yesterday, I sent the script to an industry friend who worked on my first film, who I respect infinitely. I figure I might as well get it over with. I trust he’ll find a tactful way to tell me it’s a heap-o-crap.
I find that one of two things happen to us as writers:
1. We finish a piece of work, and believe it to be a flawless and glorious masterpiece. Each word was so carefully chosen, and hand-forged together into a seamless work of literary architecture that it could, and should, change the world. In this case, we are likely wrong.
2. We finish a piece of work, and believe, strongly, that it is the worst thing we have ever written…Moreover, it’s possibly the worst thing anyone has written, ever. In this case, we are likely right.
But, you have to start somewhere. Even if you have one crappy script/novel/self-help book/TV pilot/letter to your grandmother finished, you are that much further ahead than the person who is still talking about writing something. You’ve done it. Good job! I’ve done it. Yay! Now we gotta do a little more. It’s time to rewrite.
If we think it’s already perfect, I’d say let’s not be so stubborn that we stand in the way of our own success. Or, conversely, if it’s just too awful, let’s pony up the confidence needed to make it better.
I’m going to send Tijuana Train to everyone who will be kind enough to read it, and listen carefully to what they have to say. Ugghh… I’m tired, but it’s time to rewrite.
