Live To Write Another Day
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Acknowledgements
1. The Writer Gene
2. The Art of Procrastination
3. The Write Environment
4. Writer’s Bl%#k
5. Tuning In the Radio
6. This Draft’s for You
7. The Art of Giving Notes
8. The Art of Receiving Notes
9. The Art of Executing Notes
10. Writing Partners
11. Pitching Stories
12. Writing for Hire
13. Art vs. Commerce
14. The Write Community
15. Live to Write Another Day
COMPLETE SURVIVAL GUIDE
AFTERWORD
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Live to Write Another Day
A Survival Guide for Screenwriters and Creative Storytellers
By Dean Orion
© 2013 Sky Father Media
Copyeditor: Jodi Lester
Cover Design: Mark Page
Interior Design: Christian Knudsen
All rights reserved. This book was self-published by the author, Dean Orion under Sky Father Media. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without the express permission of the author. This includes reprints, excerpts, photocopying, recording, or any future means of reproducing text.
If you would like to do any of the above, please seek permission first by contacting Dean Orion at http://thewritergene.com
Published in the United States by Sky Father Media
ISBN 978-0-9890593-0-5
Acknowledgements
The writing of this book would not have been possible without the love and support of my beautiful wife, Rochelle, and incredible daughters, Eden and Avalon. I want to especially thank my pal Sybil Grieb, for inspiring me to take a leap of faith and go on this wild ride, and Christian Knudsen, who has not only been an incalculable resource, but a truly supportive friend. The boundless talent of Mark Page, who created the cover art, never ceases to amaze me. And I can’t even begin to describe how much I appreciate the work of Jodi Lester, whose editorial knowledge and invaluable work on this book have been both a Godsend and an education. Lastly, I am so very grateful to my brother Marc, who is always my most trusted read, and my dear friends Tom Teicholz, Maria Alexander, Trey Callaway, and Karey Kirkpatrick, who were also generous enough to read early drafts and provide blurbs for The Writer Gene website.
1. The Writer Gene
I was eleven years old when I wrote my first original story. It was the story of triplets separated at birth. One becomes a professional football player, one a rodeo champ, and the other a successful Hollywood actor. Then, lo and behold, at the ripe old age of twenty-one, they learn that they’re long lost brothers!
This could only have meant one thing. Either I had a serious personality disorder, or I was born to be a writer. Frankly, I think the jury’s still out.
I rarely go back and reread anything I’ve written over the years, especially the early stuff, but not too long ago when I was in the throes of moving, I stumbled upon my original copy of “Triplets” and couldn’t quite resist the temptation (not to mention the fact that it was a wonderful respite from the drudgery of packing boxes). Naturally, I got to thinking about how far I’ve come as a writer, how much I’ve learned, and how much I’d like to share with other writers, which is how the idea for this survival guide was born.
Needless to say, I was quite amused with myself as I read through that ancient manuscript. Like most kids, I had a pretty active imagination, which was obvious from the very first paragraph. There was no doubt I was having a lot of fun when I wrote it, absolutely relishing that magical moment in my life when I suddenly came to understand the power of words and how to manipulate them. But the thing that truly astonished me about this younger version of myself was the innate ability that I possessed, even at that tender age, to construct what was clearly a very sophisticated story. No one had taught me about the nuances of creative writing or storytelling, and to my recollection, Mrs. Shertzer’s sixth-grade class at Fifth Avenue Elementary School wasn’t exactly a hotbed of budding literary geniuses. Yet somehow, intuitively, I was able to create this perfect three-act structure for my “Triplets” masterpiece, a well-defined beginning, middle, and end that wove seamlessly back and forth between my three protagonists, built to an exciting climax, and paid off quite beautifully when it was all said and done.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not telling you this heart-warming little tale to toot my own horn. Okay, maybe I am a little bit, but that’s beside the point. All I’m trying to say is that writing is in my DNA. It’s not just what I do, it’s who I am. In other words, for better or worse, I was born with the writer gene.
So what does this mean? What’s the prognosis for someone with this dreaded affliction, doc? Well, if you too are the proud owner of this lovely piece of biochemistry, then you know exactly what it means. It means that as much as you struggle to overcome your shortcomings or to be recognized for your achievements as a writer, as much as you get rejected, as much as you try to do other things with your life or make a living in other ways—even if you have to make a living in other ways—there’s just no chance in hell that you’ll ever stop writing. It’s like trying to defy gravity. It’s physically impossible.
In my experience, I’ve found that members of our little gene pool generally respond to this stark reality in one of two ways: either they do what I do most of the time, which is to be honest and admit how much they love writing, despite how incredibly hard it is to do well; or they do what I only do every now and again, which is to endlessly bitch, moan, and complain about how much they hate writing, because of how incredibly hard it is to do well. By the way, it’s also not at all unusual to hear a writer do both of these things simultaneously, sometimes in the very same long and laborious sentence, like I just did.
All joking aside though, the truth is I really do love writing. I love it because it helps me make sense of a world that very often makes no sense at all; because it gives me a structure in which to express myself, to create order out of chaos, to be the master of the universe, even if it is a make-believe universe. Most importantly, I love writing because I love the creative process, the journey that you go on when you conceive of an idea and, like Odysseus, feel compelled to find the path through every obstacle, every trial and tribulation, in an effort to realize that idea’s full potential and bring it safely home.
If you’re like me and you have the writer gene, then I’m sure you’re in the midst of your own writing odyssey. And, like me, you could probably use a little help every now and then, a little reassurance that you’re not alone out there, blowing aimlessly in the middle of the Mediterranean. That’s what this survival guide is all about. It’s my way of helping you—my writer brethren—navigate those often unpredictable, sometimes murky waters, in any small way I can.
I’ve been a professional writer since the time I graduated from college, which is about twenty-five years now. In that time I’ve written advertising copy, stage plays, screenplays, teleplays, website content, and all different kinds of interactive games and theme-park experiences. It’s been an eclectic career to be sure, but each of these creative challenges has, in its own unique way, taught me very valuable lessons and invariably contributed to my overall growth, both as a person and as an artist. I don’t profess to know everything or have the end-all-be-all, sure-fire secret to being a great writer. Let’s be real, no one does. What I do know is there are aspects of my creative process and my psychological approach to the craft of writing that are very effective and could potentially work for you as well.
So whether you’re
a high school kid with big dreams, a person who’s spent half your life in another career neglecting your writer gene, or even a seasoned vet who just needs a little pep talk, it’s my sincerest hope that there’s a word or two in this little tome that will help you weather every storm, sail past every siren, and slay every monster as you tell that great story that simply must be told.
SURVIVAL GUIDE SUMMARY
1. The Writer Gene
Things to Remember:
•If you’re a person who is driven to tell stories with words, then you have the writer gene.
•Guess what—you’re not alone.
2. The Art of Procrastination
I think it’s only fitting to begin a discussion of the creative process with a little procrastination. As you might have already guessed from the title of this chapter, I think procrastination gets a bad rap. Why? Because I wholeheartedly believe that procrastination is part of the creative process. There. I said it. You happy? I hope so, because I’m not just trying to be cute. I mean it.
Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, we should probably give procrastination a more positive name, don’t you think? How about Pre-writing? Braincharging? Mindframing? Sound better? I think so. But let’s not kid ourselves either. Regardless of what you call it, it still basically boils down to the same thing—delaying the inevitable reality that at some point you have to get on with it, just dive into the deep end of the pool and start paddling. Which is bad, right? Delaying. Avoiding. Not doing what you’re supposed to be doing. Worst of all, wasting time. Right?
You see what I’m doing here? I can’t psychologically reconcile the fact that for every minute of my life I’m not writing, I feel terribly guilty, like I’m not getting a damn thing done. “Come on people, we’re burning daylight!” the drill sergeant in my head says. “But I can’t just start typing,” I plead. “I’m not ready!”
My point here is this:
Procrastinating is only bad if you create anxiety around the fact that you’re procrastinating.
Okay, let’s say you can get past the guilt. You no longer feel bad about the time you’re spending rearranging the furniture or trying to peel the perfect cucumber. How the hell is that part of the process? The answer is that creative writing requires a very unique type of focus where you are at once a passive and active channel of information. You are both passively listening to the ideas coming into your head at a million miles per second and actively talking as you compose the words. But believe it or not, when you’re procrastinating you’re actually starting to engage in this process, because you’re already thinking about the story that you’re telling, even if it’s only subconsciously.
Procrastination comes in as many varieties as there are writers. Some people watch YouTube videos. Some people clean the house. Some people go for a walk. Me, I’m a football junkie, so I like to read all the latest and greatest happenings of the National Football League before I put pen to paper (even in the off-season). Any and all forms are acceptable as far as I’m concerned. Procrastination is an equal opportunity employer.
Not that chronic procrastination, to the point where you don’t ever actually write anything, is okay. That’s obviously not what I’m talking about. There’s a point at which that kind of thing begins to call into question whether you actually possess the writer gene in the first place. What I am saying is that procrastinating is pretty much the universal starting point of the writing process, a way of getting yourself into the alpha state, as the scientists would say. So whatever it is that you have to do to get yourself there, don’t beat yourself up about it. Just accept it, embrace it, and know that your fellow writers all over the world, from amateurs to Pulitzer Prize winners, are at the very same moment doing exactly the same thing.
SURVIVAL GUIDE SUMMARY
2. The Art of Procrastination
Things to Remember:
•Procrastination is part of the creative process.
•Procrastination is only bad if you create anxiety about procrastinating. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Use it.
•You are both a passive and active channel of information when you write.
Questions to Ask Yourself:
•What procrastination activities contribute to your process? Make a list.
•What procrastination activities are destructive to your process? Make a list.
•How much procrastination time will you allow yourself when you sit down to write? Be specific.
3. The Write Environment
Getting into that alpha state goes hand in hand with another very important aspect of creative writing—the environment in which you write.
Though some people have no issues whatsoever writing in a noisy environment, like a coffee shop or a restaurant, most of us need some relatively quiet space where it’s a little easier to concentrate. I’m generally in the quiet camp, but there are also specific components of the process that I find I can do almost anywhere. Not surprisingly, I tend to be fine in a louder environment for the more active aspects of the job, like brainstorming, concepting, and outlining. On the other hand, I usually need a more serene environment for tasks that involve more passive listening and comprise the heavy-lifting part of the process. For instance, if I’m focused on dialogue, I tend to require a pretty cloistered-type space. Writing dialogue is probably the most passive thing you do as a writer, as you are basically listening to people talk in your head and acting like a stenographer.
Consistency
Up until the day my first child was born, I pretty much always wrote at home. My wife was around here and there, but she was usually busy with her own stuff, so the house was, for the most part, a fairly serene place. Newborn infants, however, are not always very accommodating, as anyone who’s had one will attest. Consequently, when our first little girl came along, I found myself in dire need of a place where I could go to get my “alpha state on.” I could have looked for office space somewhere, but I wasn’t too keen on spending the money, so I continued to pursue other options and eventually arrived at a very attractive alternative.
One of my best friends is an acupuncturist. My ingenious plan was to ask him if I could use his office after hours and write at his desk when no one else was around. Fortunately, he was very amenable to this arrangement. All I had to do was promise to keep the place clean and not stick needles in anybody in his absence. I didn’t know it at the time, but this actually turned out to be a very significant development in my writing life, because now I actually had a set schedule in which I had to write or else I knew I would never get anything done. I could come in every evening at around six p.m. and work as late as I liked. On the weekends, the place was all mine.
The significance of having a place like this is huge. One of the best screenwriters of all time, Woody Allen once said that eighty percent of success in life is just showing up. I couldn’t agree more. I’d also say that it’s a whole lot easier to show up when you actually have a place to show up to. You may not be as lucky as I am to have a friend who’s willing to share his or her space, but you may have other options. Consistency is the key. The best gift you can give yourself as a writer is to find that special spot where you can go, day in and day out, with little or no threat of it suddenly becoming unavailable to you. This is your safe house, your asylum, where your writer gene is always free to express itself.
By the way, my eldest daughter just turned seventeen and guess where I’m sitting right now as I write this? Oh how time flies in the asylum!
Environmental Association
In addition to providing consistency, my buddy’s office also provides me with other benefits (some of them quite unexpected) that have definitely made me more productive.
For one thing, there aren’t any of my own distractions and temptations around (bills to pay, dogs to walk, TV to watch, etc.). Second, I always have to be mindful that I’m a guest and that everything has to be neat, tidy, and presentable when I leave. It is, after all, his place of business, and
that must be respected. This simple fact keeps me focused on what I’m there to do, which is to write. But by far the biggest benefit is how I have come to associate the space itself with successful writing. To this day, I literally start to feel the rush of alpha waves come over me as I walk through the door. It’s as if my body is programmed to be productive simply because of the physical location in which I have placed it—which gives me the peace of mind that whenever I come up against a tough creative challenge, I absolutely know that I can solve it when I step into that room.
Changing the Scenery
As much as I cherish working in my buddy’s office, I also think it’s important to have multiple environments, other writing silos where you can work and be stimulated by a change of scenery. As I mentioned, there are times when I will go to a coffee shop or a restaurant, but it’s usually not for more than an hour or two, and it’s usually only to brainstorm or do more high-concept type work. In this case, it’s the change that provides the creative spark I’m looking for, not necessarily the location itself.
I also belong to a place called The Writers Junction, which is a shared office-type space near my home in Santa Monica, California. Membership at The Writers Junction ranges from about $80 to $140 per month, depending on the package you choose. There are a couple of private rooms, but mostly writers share a number of larger “quiet rooms” where they sit alongside one another, similar to the way you would if you went to a public library. All the members are professional, respectful of one another, and serious about their careers, which makes it a very positive atmosphere. There is also something to be said for simply being around other writers, both for the camaraderie and the common energy, rather than being alone in a room all the time. So, if there’s a place like this near you, I would highly recommend checking it out.