Pilot #1 ... Waiting for more notes

Tonight I finished the fourth draft of Pilot #1. It's been sent to my reader. I'd set it aside last week to think about it some more. It's weird to read it after a few days off. All the fresh jokes seem old now...I've heard them SO many times. Hard to read the piece as though it's the first time.

Does every writer feel this way?

Here's the deal...

It has been quite a month for ideas. Not sure why, but TV comedies are crowding my brain right now. I see what's on TV and the new shows getting produced each year. Not many of them are shows I want to watch. Now I'm writing what I want to see. Here's the list of projects I'm working on:

Project 49
This is my feature film. The project is outlined and several major scenes are written including the first act. About 20 pages written so far on the first draft.

Pilot #1
This is the 30-min., single-camera comedy I am nearly done rewriting. I'm cleaning up a few scenes, writing in a few extra parts for continuity and then it will be ready for WGA registration.

Pilot #2
Another comedy that I am now writing a quick first draft. Good, high concept. Spike TV: Bite me.

Pilot #3
Yet another comedy that will get started once #1 and #2 are both done/registered. I'll jot down some notes here and there in the meantime, but I don't need to have too many projects going all at once.

For each of the comedies, they are three distinct properties with nothing (other than the writer) in common. I want my portfolio to show range and depth. I want to leave a reader asking, "What will the next one bring?" Predictability would kill me.

Pilot #1 -- Penultimate Draft

I'm not sure exactly how to say this, but...

I love the snot out of this pilot.

The Reluctant Grad Student

Most of the coming week will be spent working on a human subject research project in my department, not writing. My colleagues were caught in a bind: summer vacations have resulted in a low number of grad students hanging around and able to work odd hours shuffling subjects through the rigors of the labs. I don't need the money, but at least it pays well enough that there's something left over after parking. However, I can think of better things to do with my summer than taking DNA samples from people with bad breath.

It's not that I don't like people...I do. In the aggregate. In theeeeeeeory. But not all at once and certainly not in close proximity. In praxis, I want distance. I love the asocial aspect of social networks. Dealing with a strange individual's spit is taking me about 2.5 feet outside my personal space, my bubble. There aren't thick enough latex gloves for the job. This is why teaching works for me. Classrooms and lecture halls afford the perfect buffer. Class over, they leave. It's the rare student who crosses the invisible line to "chat" or beg for grace or engage in some intellectual debate to prove to me they are smarter than their last exam may have (erroneously) led me to believe.

So it is with great reluctance that I lend my latex-protected hands to my fellow grad students and faculty. I will handle the spit. I'll be courteous to the subjects and think about the Pacific Ocean to quell the dry heaves forming as I mix chemicals and label vials. This was NOT what I had in mind when I enlisted in grad school.

MARGE SIMPSON

Bart, don't  make fun of grad students! 

They  just  made  a  terrible  life choice.

Most days, I disagree with Marge. Most days, I'm grateful to get paid to go to school. Most days, I don't have to play with spit. Those are good days. They'll be back.