Monday, December 2, 2013

Ways for Playwrights to Succeed

DISCLAIMER: 

What do I know?

DISCLAIMER #2:

This could apply to people other than playwrights.

DISCLAIMER #3:

No disrespect to Mat Smart and his article "The Real Reason Why Playwrights Fail."  Let's just consider this a companion piece.

This is my third reaction post to an article I read on Howlround a few days ago.  I guess it struck a nerve.  Not in a way that made me pissed off, but in a way that made me feel like there was more to say on the subject.

I take issue with the accusatory tone of the title, even.  The Real Reason Playwrights Fail.  This is why I added a disclaimer: "What do I know?"  This is just my opinion and I think that's how the article should be taken as just another person's opinion.  I think that hard work is a surefire way to make sure that you're even in the arena to play the game that you hope you'll get called off the bench for and then be able to win at.  But hard work only gives you access to playing at a competitive level.  It doesn't mean that you'll even succeed.  So let's start out from there.

Work Harder Than Anyone Else in the Room (or your circle)

You've got to know that you're putting the work in.  If for a second you feel like you're not giving your all, then you have to re-evaluate what you're doing.  There's no way around hard work.  Even if you have a bit of luck in the beginning, eventually you need to work your ass off.  When I was a young undergrad, Erik Ehn (Google him if you don't know who he is) told me that everything needs to serve the writing.  That way you never feel like you're sacrificing anything.  And that assumes that you have a singular focus.  Not everyone has that luxury.  People have spouses and kids and elderly parents to tend to.  But even that can be helpful.  If your work is about your spouse or kids or elderly parents.  Or if your work is a way to escape your outside responsibilities--if only for an hour or two a day.  Make everything feed your desire.  When my father was dying, writing was my refuge and I devoted time every day to it.  Even when I couldn't focus enough to work on scenes from a play, I wrote in a blog.  Or I read a book as research.  Or I watched a film to get my mind off of my Dad and into narrative storytelling.

I'm always at it.  Except when I'm not.  Sometimes I do fail.  But I continue on.  It's like Thanksgiving. I ate more than I should and worse than I should.  But today I am having some oatmeal with almond milk and dried cranberries.  I'll have a salad and soup later.  I'll go for a run later as well.

If you fail at working as hard as you can today, work harder tomorrow.  But don't shame yourself.  That doesn't do any good.

There is no hard and fast rule.  Write six hours a day.  Get up every morning and write.  Write for twenty minutes first thing…anything so that you get in the habit of writing.  Write every day.  You have to do what works for you.  I do think that routine helps.  I get up and brush my teeth every morning.  And my teeth are cleaner for it.  So if I write every day, then my career and my sense of self will be better for it.  Right?

Make your own deadlines or set writing appointments.  Deadlines are helpful.  Some of those are self-imposed and some of those are dictated by an actual due date.  The Fall play festival submission season is a good one for me.  But don't start a project two weeks before its due and expect brilliance.  Brilliance may happen, but you're making it a lot harder for something great to come through.  I write with my friend Larry once a week.  And he's usually the one who breaks the appointments (he has a kid, I don't) if something else comes up.  If he can't make it, I'll keep the appointment.  I also keep office hours at the West Hollywood library.  Since I'm working from home right now, it's helpful to have somewhere to drive to.  It's a ritual.  Rituals are important for me.  They make the moment special.

Understand that working hard also means that sometimes you are not writing.  Sometimes you are filling the tank.  I have a project I'm working on about advertising that I keep finding materials for.  I started out researching Robert Altman films.  I watched eleven of them.  Then I had a special book that was made for the 30th anniversary of the ad agency I used to work at.  I then read about a book by Dave Eggers that sounded like good research.  A friend invited me to dinner one night and I told the group about this project and someone suggested a book called "Thought Contagion."  Then I listened to a podcast with an author named David Shields.  I kept finding things that felt like they were necessary to me writing this play.  And it will take a lot of hard work to distill that information, find what's useful and write the play.  And that's before one more word hits the screen.

Don't Pay Attention to What Other People Are Doing

That might seem to contradict the statement, "Work Harder Than Anyone Else."  But it's really not.  We have an internal barometer.  We know when we're not working as hard as we should.  We only find out we're working harder when we're made aware of it.  And by that time, we've advanced so far beyond everyone else that we're winning the race.  Plus, if you think that other people are working really hard then you'll push yourself.

But here's where the advice comes in.  It's so easy to look on Facebook or talk to friends (and in some cases, read Variety or Deadline Hollywood or Broadway.com or the New York Times) and compare yourself to them.  This is going to sound so Pollyanna, but…that is their journey and you're on your journey.  I know it sounds like phooey, but I remind myself of that every day.  Someone had the success that you wanted and they were younger or they've been at it for less time or there was nepotism involved.  That's always going to be the case.  But I go back to the arena analogy.  If I'm in the stadium,  I will see other people make great plays (remember, this is a sports analogy) all around me.  But eventually it will be my turn.  If I was outside the stadium, I would be on the outside looking it.  I would be a spectator and not a participant.  Because I'm a participant in the game, I'm seeing more and more of my friends have success.  Eventually it will be my turn.

But to combat the loneliness and isolation that goes along with writing, I have to be invested in my work for its own daily reward.  I can write.  I have that talent.  I love these characters.  I have to tell this story.  I have to feel those successes in the moment, otherwise I'm going to feel like I'm failing.  And if I'm failing, I'm eventually going to quit.

And when I'm looking around to what other people are doing, I'm not working.  I'm distracted.  And I'm setting a standard that is unfair to me.  Success happens for countless other reasons than hard work, even though it can't happen without it.

Whenever I see something on Facebook that's good and that's happened for someone else, I hit "Like." It's easier than hating myself.  And it's a routine.  Even if I don't really like it, it gets me in the habit of being happy for other people's success.  Because it's theirs.  And I will have mine soon.

Get Your Work Out There

Submit to play festivals!  I have friends who are playwrights who are constantly saying to me that they're bad at submitting.  How can you be bad at sending an email?  What they really mean is that they don't put in the work.  And here's where I agree with Mat Smart.  It's laziness.  Yes, it feels sometimes like all we do is submit.  And nothing happens.  But you've got to crank work out.

And it takes so many more plays or screenplays or TV pilots than you think it will or it should.  I'm on my tenth TV pilot, my tenth or eleventh spec script, my tenth full length play…and am in some stage of development for my eleventh and twelfth pilots and my eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth plays.  Mat's right.  It takes a lot of work and a lot more work than you expect it to.  My old boss said that Shawn Ryan (creator of The Shield) wrote 20 spec scripts before he got his first job.

If you're not on the field, you can't play.

Be Your Biggest Fan

If you're not, no one else will be.  And if you're a big, devoted fan of your own work, you won't be able to wait until the next project comes along.  And that means you'll write it.  It feels good to be exercising that muscle.  Sure, it hurts and it gets sore.  Sometimes it's hard to get to the gym because you worked so hard the day before and you're sore and tired.  But muscles need to grow.  They also need rest--that's where filling up the tank comes in.  But you need to be on a continual cycle so that those muscles don't atrophy.

Excitement is contagious.  And so is wah-wah.  If you're down on your work, then that just makes room for other people to be as well.  But if you're jazzed, then they're going to want to join your marching band.

All of these metaphors…

Understand What The Note Is

Clearly, these pieces of advice aren't in any particular order.

But this is another way of saying something that Mat Smart said.  Some writers aren't open to criticism and to fixing things.  But that's because we have a fixed idea of what our play is.  And sometimes we throw out a bad note without trying to figure out if there's something good that can be taken from it.  Just as we're not always clear with our intentions in our writing (which is why we get certain notes), note givers aren't always articulate with what needs to be fixed in your script.  After all, not all of your advisors are writers, so how can they be more articulate than you?

Sometimes someone will give you a note in a bad way that makes you think that it's completely contrary to what you're trying to accomplish.  But with a bit more thought, you might discover that they want to solve the same problem you do, but they're just saying it in a different way.

We do have to stop being overly protective of our work.  We can still be fans and still nurture the work.  But if we don't realize that our work only gets better the more it gets exposed and gets some breathing room, then our work will die.  From lack of air.

I write down all notes I get.  I don't respond to them in the moment.  That's because I need time to get over myself.  My first reaction is to defend.  To make an excuse.  I just need to shut up, write it all down and look at it later.  And if the note seems good, I take it.  I am not a one man band. I can't think of everything.  It's impossible.  So I need directors, actors, designers, fans, and loved ones to see the things I don't see: both the good and the bad.  Because I can be so hard on myself and impatient that I want to throw the baby out with the bathwater.  And I need a friendly reminder that some of it works. Or most of it works.  Or ALL of it works--that's my favorite.

Refine Success

On these terms…

What kind of life do I want to live?
How can I be the kind of writer I want to be and be accomplished at the same time?
Where do I want to live?
Who do I want in my life?
Is the work good?
Did I exhaust myself?
Am I happy?
What does money represent to me?
What does balance look like?

The Real Reason Playwrights Fail?  According to who?  What's failing?

Do I give a shit?

No comments:

Post a Comment