Last Sunday night minutes away from finishing a commercial script, the intimidating spinning wheel popped up on my screen and never stopped spinning. My computer died. And I lost everything on it.
Not only everything that I had written for that one project but literally everything that I have written in the last 10 years was gone. Of course backing up your work is easy these days but I was horrible at it and as much as my computer was old and I knew I was in need of a new one, I never prepared for the chance one day my computer could never work again.
As a writer, this is worst thing that can happen. Now, after the initial shock and fear, I sit in front of a brand new computer there is something oddly refreshing and exciting about starting over.
As a writer, so much of what I have previously imagined and written shapes what I want to write in the future. If I have already written a romantic comedy about best friends it’s time to try something different. But now without the reference of worlds and lives that I have previously created, I can do and write anything that I want to in a new way never fully expressed. I don’t have to worry about the script that I wrote that never was rewritten. I don’t have to linger over the TV pilot that I loved and no one else got. Right now I start from a completely new page one. The great thing about being a writer is that although I do not tangibly hold my previous work, anything that I now write is inherently touched with the knowledge and skill gained over the years. Without the looming pages of past work glaring at me and influencing a false sense of authority, I feel like I now walk with a new found freedom.
The one thing that drives me insane about screenwriters is that so often people believe the pursuit equals the skill. When people discuss the number of screenplays they have completed as if that alone deserves merit negates the skill and talent needed to write a beautifully written and original piece of work. The truth is writing 300 scripts isn’t what makes you great – It is one that does the trick. Not one script but “The One”.
As Malcolm Gladwell discusses in “Outliers” it’s the practice of creating story and rewriting that creates The One but it’s that one piece of work that stands out above the rest that carries not only the possibility of the next great step but also carries the blood sweat and tears of the thousands and pages before.
Early this year in a very emotional and real moment with my manager, he said to me “You’ve written good, but I haven’t seen great”. As much as it hurt, I couldn’t argue. But for any artist, great shows up without warning. Great can happen tomorrow or it can happen in 20 years.
When I got the news that years of scripts, thoughts, documents, music, pictures, were gone forever I just went numb. And my father said, “It’s the same mind- same heart”. And it’s true. I might not be physically able to hold or touch the years of a written work but they are still in the place that matters the most – my heart and soul. Not sure if I got 10, 000 hours but I got something close. Therefore I move forward with ease and excitement to the making of me.
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