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.

Scripped and Spike TV -- Not for me.

While winding down for the night, I decided to look up the rules/terms of the Scripped and Spike TV pilot contest. The best part is Exhibit "A" Assignment of Rights.

It's gotta be a joke. Go read it. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll shake your head. They spent well over $2,000 (amount of grand prize) drafting that piece of legalese. Clever. Shakes my faith in the industry. Oh, wait. I didn't have any faith to begin with...nowhere to go but up, right?

The sad part, lots of people will submit their work and pay the $20 or $40 to do so, then blindly click the "I've read and agree to these terms" button.

I'll hang onto my money, my rights AND my scripts.

Bring on the C-4

This crap is crazy. It almost writes itself. The concept is simple. The characters are distinct, have purpose and well-defined goals. The joy of writing, of creating, is that when I need to or want to, I can blow shit up.

Thank you, Spike TV. Saturday would have been dull without you.

Spike TV -- this one's for you

Spike TV is stupid, but brilliant in how they acknowledge this and how they intentionally target their demographic. They are unapologetic in how they describe their viewers:

"Our guys drink beer, chase women, play sports, gamble and attempt at every turn to successfully put off adulthood. The characters in our comedies must reflect these traits, too."

I respect that.

I found out about their screenwriting contest last night on Twitter. Woke up today with an idea that is dumb enough for Spike TV, so I'll write out the 30 pages and pay the $20. I'm not going to spend too much time on it. For me, this is an exercise to see how quickly can I go from idea to submission. It takes me back to my journalist days. Writing on the fly was my drug. We were always "on." We never attempted perfection, but we did marvel in how well we could write given the restrictions of the deadline. Back then, I learned how to write drafts that were so far beyond "draft" quality. A draft had to be good enough for print. There wasn't the luxury of time for revisions. You learned how to edit as you go, proof as you type, and write ledes while driving back to the office.

At the very least, I'm building a portfolio. When someone says, "that's good, but what else do you have?" I will have an answer. In writing.