Archives for posts with tag: screenwriting competitions

It’s that time of year again. Unfortunately, it’s also another year of getting nowhere, with two scripts that have hit the top 10% and 15% before. I don’t know about others this happens to. We all have different, if similar, experiences, and we all handle them in our own writery way of coping and hopefully moving forward.

As usual, when I have a bad results experience, I want to crawl into a hole in the air I breathe for a little while and whine like a dog under the porch. Who am I kidding? I don’t just want to. I do it. In my little cocoon of disappointment, I get upset, I get mad, and then I get past it and carry on. What else am I going to do? Wallowing for a little while is a really good way to cope. For me, anyway. It’s the carrying on part that’s tricky. Fortunately, I’m the flare up then die down pretty fast kind of flame. It’s keeping the pilot light of hope and faith in myself burning that’s crucial to the process.

I hit the same wall every time I acquire less than enviable competition results, though. Should I write a post about it? It’s certainly not pleasant. It’s not like I’m going to brag about something less than enviable. Or am I?

This is the conclusion I always reach. If I can put my work out there, throw my creativity into the sky like a handful of glitter, and hold fast to my dreams, then I can certainly put my less than perfect moments out into the wild as well.

Because.

Because.

Because.

There is always the chance that even a single screenwriter may come across this, feeling down and disappointed, and decide to read it. Silent comiseration and unseen camaraderie just may be the backbone of that thing we do where we fall down, wallow in glitter sprinkled mud of rejection dejection, and then get back up to tippity tap at our keyboards another day. And the day after that. And the day after that. Until we’ve key clicked our way into a lifelong habit of writing no matter what.

So, fellow nonfellows, get thee to a keyboard. Click the keys, flow the words. Make sure the creative glitter is edible, because you know it’s going to fall into your chocolate at some point. Every day is another day, and every single one has the potential to hold something marvelous, until the very last minute has clicked over into the past.

And, you know what? Right after that is another brand new day. They keep coming. And that means so can the words.

The beauty of words is that they never run out.

Happy writing to us all.

After sitting 2018 out, from all screenwriting competitions, then being back last year to become a Big Break Semifinalist, I’ve gone for broke in this year’s Nicholl. I’ve pushed right up to the limit, with three drama entries. My life’s in a good place this year. Better than in a long time, in fact. This leads me to hope that if I get three emails with disappointing results, perhaps in a grocery store parking lot as has been known to happen in the past, those blows will be easier to withstand. I love screenwriting and entering competitions just as much as ever, but that’s now colored through through a lens that makes screenwriting and writing in general an important part of day to day existence, but an integrated part of a broader whole. It’s as if the landscape of my life has flowered into something different, with familiar landmarks joined by new ones of enticing promise. Promise, hope, anticipation of things yet undiscovered…life, screenwriting\writing…faith that the best is yet to come.

Very happy to announce that my 2019 Big Break Screenwriting Contest entry has made the cut to Semifinalist! I just realized I’m smiling as I type. Screenwriting is such a cool thing to do. Being recognized for it is even cooler.

Grateful.

I’m very happy to announce that my drama feature entry is a 2019 Final Draft Big Break Screenwriting Contest Quarter-Finalist.

As I’ve written about in some previous posts, it’s difficult to deal with the years when nothing happens. In 2017 nothing happened, because I decided to sit out the screenwriting competitions to destress. It helped and this year I entered the Nicholl and Big Break. Not getting any positive reads in the Nicholl was disappointing and discouraging. So I seriously braced myself when the Big Break QF email came. It was such a wonderful feeling to get that reassuring, validating, thrilling moment of seeing my name and title as a Quarter-Finalist.

As the saying goes, I can dine on that for quite some time. I never stop believing in myself, but that belief gets shakey sometimes depending on how hard the winds of defeat try to blow me over. I really like this place where anything can happen and if I go right back into the doldrums that’s okay too. I’ve had the reminder that I know what I’m doing and love doing it. 

Now, I get to look forward to the upcoming Semifinals announcement. Whatever my result in that, I’m so proud to be a 2019 Big Break Quarter-Finalist.

This is one of those years that make me want to just pretend I didn’t enter the Nicholl, maybe even pretend it doesn’t exist. No entry, no results, no blog post.

But, it does and I did, so here it is. 2019 is one of the rare times when neither of my two feature length screenplay entries moved the needle at all. Not a single positive read. There’s usually at least one, often more.

There. It’s out.

This blog is intended to not only cover the good things that happen to me, but also the not so good to out right bad. The good for obvious reasons. The bad so someone else dealing with something hard in their lives may stumble across it and feel a little better being reminded that we’re not in whatever it is alone. Sometimes just thinking of even one stranger sharing our pain or disappointment from afar can make enough of a difference to actually help. From Alzheimer’s caregiving, to grief, to the events that take peripheral positions to that kind of thing, we all carry burdens. Even if the “only” burden you carry today is a disappointment, a setback in your writing life, don’t ever forget that’s a legitimate thing to deal with. In some ways it’s actually a grief within itself. We put our whole selves into our scripts and stories and novels and poems. Of course the setbacks are hard to deal with.

This year I have an “advantage”. A compressed sciatic nerve is pretty much consuming my life. That kind of physical pain can outscream just about anything else. So, I was upset about my screenplays performing so poorly, especially after doing so well other years, for a few hours, then shrugged it off and carried on, as must be done when you’re addicted to screenwriting competitions.

We carry on, while running an internal question-with-no-answers session involving a loop of “why?”, “how?”, and “when will things turn back around?”. We think and hope and wonder, and keep on writing and learning and dreaming. That’s the writer’s life. Sometimes we curse it . Hopefully, briefly. The rest of the time we love it. We live it. We make happen whatever we can. If all we can make happen is our writing world, that’s enough. Where else would we want to be?

After sitting out last year’s screenwriting competitions, I’ve entered two this year. I have two dramas in the Nicholl and a drama in Big Break. 

It’s interesting how deciding to forego the stress that comes with waiting for, then getting the responses for a year sort of rebooted the experience for me. For whatever reason, some years I do better than others. I can’t make sense of the very real fact that the same script can do really well, even several times in a row, then suddenly tank another year. It may well get a good response the very next year. Or not. 

Eventually, the see saw burnt me out to the point that removing myself from it seemed like the best move. Takng care of my mom for so long, then finally getting us both through the end of her life introduced an element of deeper stress than I’ve ever experienced. It will be three years since her death in July. I’ve realized that recovering from all that will take me as long as it takes me. Basically, I need to rest. A lot. I have and I do and I can feel it helping. 

I can also feel that taking last year off from screenwriting competitions helped too. I feel more normal now about anticipating whatever happens, and accepting it as part of the experience that’s mostly enjoyable. So onward, hopefully upward, and always loving screenwriting.

I’ve entered a lot of screenwriting competitions. So many in fact that I can’t say off the top of my head how many years I’ve been doing it. I actually got kind of addicted to it. It’s helpful to keep yourself setting and meeting goals, keeping up your A game, and with the right attitude it’s fun.

I’ve hit some pretty high highs, as far as advancing goes, with three dramas and a science fiction, all feature length. The dramas have all been Moondance finalists, one twice, and one was a semi-finalist. Two have made the top 25% of the Page Awards, while the science fiction one was a Page Awards quarter-finalist twice and a semi- finalist once. A drama made the top 10% of the Nicholl, the science fiction one the top 15%, and they have all had several variations of one and two positive reads. Not bad at all.

So why did I suddenly put a freeze on all competition entries this year? Under slightly different circumstances I’d call it competition fatigue, reached at last. Rejection fatigue certainly plays a part in it. Between this and fiction rejections, I have endured a near constant barrage for many years. There’s a lot to be said for what the human spirit rises to when properly motivated with a high enough reward potential dangled at the end of a long, rocky road. However, bluntly put, this human spirit is exhausted.

I’ve learned that endurance tests are not necessarily meant to be endured without pause virtually forever. It is perfectly acceptable at some point to break what you’ve seen as a never ending test of talent and character into separate phases of the same journey. Interstates have rest stops for a reason.Some people are good for the long, unbroken haul, no matter how long it takes. I was. But then life throws something in that makes you reevaluate, regroup, and sometimes replan.

Life threw my mother at me. She got Alzheimer’s. I got the responsibility of caring for her. Until you face it yourself, it’s impossible to grasp what that means. As the disease progresses, so does your role in your loved one’s life. Eventually becoming completely responsible for a beloved parent is life shattering. You have to dig deep and deeper, you change into a deeply mature adult, as they change back toward childhood. I became stronger than I was, more mature than I was capable of being, and learned that words like limits and strength and courage have no real meaning, because the meanings are redifined as time passes. Love becomes redifined as well, becoming the reason for everything. As difficult as it was, I would do it again, even knowing what I faced, because such a wonderful parent deserved the best possible wind down of her life, even held submerged in the depths of the weighted enemy called Alzheimer’s.

By the time she slipped away from both of our lives, on July 15, 2016, I was more exhausted than I would have thought possible. Even as I readjusted to being only responsible for myself, I missed her every day. I still do. I rest, I recover, and I’m just so glad that I got through it.

Somehow through it all I managed to write. Not prolifically. Not really steadily. But I wrote short fiction and I submitted it. This was my piece of myself that I retained throughout. I sold a story to Analog in time for my mom, my greatest support, to know and briefly understand. I continued to enter screenwriting competitions. Eventually I narrowed my focus to the Nicholl. I entered three screenplays a year. At least one would get a positive read every year, sometimes two, at times they all did at least some little miracle of a positive read or two, occasionally not so miraculous.

A couple of years ago, I checked email on my phone in a grocery store parking lot. Hammered, nearly in public, by three responses that were not as good as I’d hoped. Okay, expected. It had started to seem that I went backwards some years. Had for a while in other years, other competitions. That was when the need for the symbolic rest area became undeniable. I entered three again last year and only one got anywhere at all, with two positive reads.

Backwards.

I don’t understand how levels of success can fluctuate so widely, from competition to competition, from year to year. It seems to be, loosely put, the nature of the game. That’s okay. I know I’m not alone in it and that I’m very fortunate to consistently do so well, for so long.

I also know that I needed a break. The moments of opening competition results emails, followed by the jolts of recognition that nothing big was happening for another year needed to be followed by a break from said moments and jolts. The realization that the sheer joy of knowing a screenplay I’d written, a story I’d told, had received two positive reads in the most prestigious, highly competitive arena in screenwritingland was overshadowed by the disappointment over the two that received none. Even though they’d gotten notice several other times. I wasn’t fun anymore. It was painful.

Somehow, stepping back for a year was the right thing to do. It lowered my stress level. It gave me a measure of peace, turning the leadup to the results announcements away from dread to a space of peace. As the time to start thinking about 2019 entries approaches, I’m doing just that. I’m not sure the fun will fully be back in the game. After going through such a life altering experience as being an Alzheimer’s caregiver, a new gravity settles over my life. It’s not always at the surface, but it colors the way I consider everything. All I can do is enjoy testing myself as much as possible, while I hope.

I can’t help but remember how much my mom loved movies, when they were coming of age together. She would be so proud if my name someday appears on that beloved silver screen. The thing about wonderful mothers, though…she would be just as proud of me if that never happens.

So, onward. Above and beyond, always…with necessary rest stops on the way toward the stars.

This year the Nicholl initial results weren’t quite as early as last year, but the timing was both good and bad for me. The emails came four hours after I got home from my mom’s funeral, which made the fact that my science fiction entry got absolutely nowhere not be as upsetting as it would have been at another time. After the initial shock of disappointment, I really didn’t care too much. Beyond the timing, it was the first time any of my screenplays hadn’t received at least one positive score since I started entering the Nicholl again a few years ago and the sf one has been a Page Awards Semi-Finalist once and Quarter Finalist twice, so it’s not like I don’t have plenty of proof that it’s good. It’s just the capricious nature of subjectivity and individual reader’s taste. Not that I’m happy to have had it bomb out, but other things have taken precedent over such concerns this year.

My other two entries made up for it, for the most part. In keeping with that capricious thing, the drama that got one positive score last year got two this year and the one that got two last year got one this year. This kind of thing can drive you bonkers, if you let it. Not letting it can be a struggle, but if you can remember the bits about subjectivity and individual taste it gets easier. With the Nicholl in particular, it helps profoundly to keep always at the front of your mind that out of the 2016 competition’s 6,915 entries, only 357 made QF. With those kind of odds in the most prestigious competition of them all, I’m really, really pleased with the positive scores I got again this year.

The Quarter Finalist announcement came some time ago, but this is the kind of thing where it takes time for me to feel like writing about it. Actually, I never feel like writing about this kind of result. However, since I’ve been doing it whether my result is good, not so good, or in this case extremely unpleasant….

I didn’t make the Quarter Finals.

Miss High Hopes here expected to. Not without good reason. My science fiction script has done well in other competitions. Particularly The Page Awards (Semifinalist once, Quarter Finalist twice). Also, this is the first time I’ve completely washed out of a competition in years, with zero recognition of any kind.

Do I understand how that happens? No. I know it does to other people all the time and apparently precedent has no bearing on any given competition, with any given script, so now it’s happened to me. One thing I’ve learned about the potential for success in both screenwriting and fiction is that there is no logic to any of it. Maybe there should be an offshoot of all things written run by Vulcans….

I’ve run the gamut of reactions. I’ve felt like quitting. I’ve tried to figure out a better way. I’ve tried to ignore my in progress screenplay. It wouldn’t let me. I’ve just tonight started working on it again. I still love doing it. Darn it.

So I’ll have script number five in the can eventually. And enter it in competitions, come what may.

It’s what I do.

It’s that time of year again. After putting all my screenwriting competition eggs in the Nicholl basket last year and expecting to do better than I did, I had to think hard about this year. I’m usually able to roll disappointments off my back, but having done so well in competitions for years (see my Blog Page: Written for Screen and Page ), then having only one positive read each for my three 2014 entries really threw me. Honestly, it took me a few months to get over it.

For all that I know the capricious nature of competition results and the way individual opinions are completely unpredictable, I was still mired in the perceived mud of “only” one positive read each. I’m being frank about this because I know there are others out there struggling with the same thing. Even though you know you can do really well one year and not advance at all the next, it still comes down to feeling as if you’ve been hit in the face with a pie when it happens to you. And that’s the most pleasant of the reactions.

Eventually I realized that I had to stop with the negativity of “only” and focus on the fact that three of my screenplays had received a positive read in the most prestigious of the competitions among more than 7,000 entries. Two of which had flat bombed out when I’d entered them before. Before I learned how to rewrite. So I accomplished quite a bit last year, even if not what I’d hoped for. Encouraging, actually, if humbling.

So what’s on the agenda for this year? Why, three in the Nicholl again, of course. Right back and into that one unpredictable basket! I’d half-intended
to spread them out a little more this time, but the early deadline loomed, the usual formatting disasters ensued, I got inundated with two ice/sleet/snow storms, heat trouble, car trouble, and a leaking roof, and time crunched. Circumstances pushed me to do what I really wanted to anyway…aim as high as possible. Again.

I hope I’m better prepared to do the roll off the back thing now, if I must. The very best way to handle disappointment is to shrug, dig deep, and keep writing. And to not disappoint yourself by aiming lower because you’re afraid. Fear can be a great motivator. So is hope. And faith in yourself.

Nicholl 2015 entries:

2 dramas from last year
1 science fiction

Fear
Hope
Faith

And a long, long wait.