Writing Pilot in Three Days (FAIL)

Yes, fail. How one goes from writing seventy-five (that's 75, 7-5 or five and seventy) in three days to only getting through twenty one (21, 2-1, you get it) is beyond my understanding. Or is it? Surely there's a logical explanation, or at least something I could come up with that sounds reasonable.

There is.

Writing is rewriting. I say it over and over, I write it down (and rewrite it - ha! Ha?) but it doesn't quite make its way into the deep recesses of my psyche. The first time I wrote the pilot (see here and here), I was driven by the idea of finishing it. By any means necessary. Even if it sucked. And it did.

This second attempt was different. I wanted something more, something meatier, classy. I threw out everything I felt was gimmicky, plot-wise, and did my darndest to let the characters be likable or hate-able, and let that drive the story. That, my friends, is a lot harder to do. For me.

I'm a plot person. I like a lot of stuff going on, and I like it all to be happening to my main man, or woman. I'll never write a coming-of-age, or a complicated romance, or a subtle adult drama, or a subtle anything for that matter. Two people talking over coffee is my personal worst nightmare scene situation. I want running, jumping, exploding, throwing, laughing and blood all over the place all the time. At the same time, if possible.

This, however, poses some problems when putting my characters into the plot. That's right, that's how I look at it: I have to cram these people-things into my awesome story thing to make the awesome story things happen. So, clearly we can all see what's wrong here.

People don't see movies because of plot; they go to watch characters. These characters have to do something, but essentially we're just there to watch them, to root for them, to feel the things that they are feeling. You could make a movie out of someone buttering toast for two hours, as long as you made it clear that their commitment to the perfect toast was a life and death issue to them. And it should star Liam Neeson (just a suggestion).

Where was I going with this? The point I'm trying to make here, and subsequently force into my pea brain (at first I typed "pee brain" and I was like "that doesn't look right"), is that characters have to exist before the story does. You've heard it said that life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent how you react to it. That's your story. Ten percent explosions, running, jumping, laughing, screaming, punching, blood spatter and ninety percent character choices.

There's a reason this is difficult. There's a reason most writers give up and never write. There's a reason that I only got twenty-one pages finished in three days, and a reason why each of those pages was intolerably painful and probably complete garbage. But writing is rewriting is writing. Keep saying it, and keep doing it, and one day it will make sense.

Maybe.

No, definitely. Think definitely.  

Writing a TV Pilot in Three Days

I'm doing it again. Same basic show, only much much better. Why, you ask? The virtues of writing the entirety of a given project in a set number of days (a small set, preferably) are not the least bit diminished by the fact that what you write in that short span of time will be complete and utter dreck. Not the least bit diminished.

Maybe slightly diminished.

Regardless. The fact remains that I have seventy-five pages of pure writing, whether or not any of those pages, paragraphs, sentences, or individual words are worth preserving is well beyond the point. However, since most of those pages are not worth saving, I've decided to start over. It's hard looking back at all the work that you were so proud of at the moment you finished and realizing that there's really, really not much to actually be proud of.

Fact: the first draft of pRN the TV pilot contains the following maladies...

1. Dialogue that mirrors precisely the action that is taking place;

2. Two people sitting there talking with nothing else going on;

3. Freeze frames;

4. Flashbacks;

5. Las Vegas, mob bosses, cross dressing, Celine Dion and general piss-poor dialogue.

So, yeah, a little left of focused on this one. I think the thought here was "more is more and less is boring." It's easy to just throw everything in on the first attempt, a kind of padding of the editing process. If I put a bunch of stuff in there that I only remotely care about, I can insulate my favorite parts from getting cut by me.

For this endeavor, I need to focus. What is this series about, or perhaps more importantly who is this series about? The highest mark you can hit with any series is to establish characters that people actually care about. What those characters do should be interesting too, but almost everything about the story should serve to illuminate the qualities of your individual characters.

Honestly, I'm crap at this. I like story, plot, structure and formula. My writing is cookie-cutter predictable with only the occasional slices of ingenuity and original humor. I'm good at making the story about something, but making it about someone proves more difficult. The something of this story is important to me, but the someone (or someones) needs to feel equally as important, because it is. That's what this draft is for.

So, here's how I've set myself up for success:

1. Outline is ready. It's a completely new outline, though it utilizes plot points from the previous outline.

2. Days are free. I've got three days in a row this week with nothing to do but write, and those around me are well aware that I will be unavailable (and probably highly irritable) during this time.

3. Fridge is full. Food goes in mouth, fingers go on keyboard. Important not to mix that up.

4. Apartment is clean. Kind of. I'm working on it.

5. Expectations are set. I've all but guaranteed those interested (mom) that I will have a second draft completed by the end of these three days. Failure or success; there's no middle ground here.

Let's do this. Tuesday. Because I work tomorrow, so... 

List of Possible Factors Contributing to Successful Completion of Television Pilot

As previously mentioned here, I wrote a TV pilot. In three days. Impressed? You should be (seriously, be impressed; you've no idea how much I seek your approval). Being that my success in this matter defies the very conventions of writers everywhere (that is, deferring any actual writing until it becomes absolutely necessary, and then procrastinating), I have compiled a list of possible contributing factors that may have been influential to my success. They may also have nothing to do with it. But lists are my favorite!

Also, I'm going to present this list in such a way that it appears to be a fool-proof method by which anyone may produce the same results, specifically write a TV pilot in three days. I don't mean to imply that there is any guarantee this will work, but the inference might mistakenly be made.

A Fool-Proof Method by Which Anyone May Produce a TV Pilot in Three Days. Guaranteed.

1. Clean your space. I don't mean tidy up a bit, I mean tidy up, sweep, dust, dishes done, bathroom hairless, sinks unclogged and living space feng shui'ed. 
2. Tell everyone what you're about to do. Text, email and tweet this madness; make sure everyone knows you are unavailable, even in emergencies. 
3. Stock the kitchen. I don't mean have a loaf of bread and some peanut butter on hand, I'm talking real oatmeal, spinach salads, pasta, fruit, granola and yogurt - you're not going to send yourself into a sugar coma and sleep for hours, so you need actual sustainable nutrition. You need to stock up because...
4. You're not leaving the house. "But I write better in nature," "I like my coffee shop," "I need an audience;" no, you don't. You're going to sit there, at your desk, on your couch or in front of that window that overlooks the lake until you are finished. Then, and only then, may you rejoin civilization and be among its people.
5. Want it. None of this works unless you really want it. Want it like you need it, like it's the one thing that is going to give your life meaning. Okay, maybe not your whole life, but the next few months at least. Because you're going to be editing this thing for the next few months (don't think about that right now; just get it done). 

That's pretty much it. I mean, I don't know; this could have been a fluke, but that is pretty much exactly what I did and it worked. Ultimately, and contrary to everything you've read up to now, I'm not actually advocating this as the one true way to go about it. I think what I'm saying here is I found a system that made sense to me and has brought success. Other systems haven't worked, this one did. Find your system. Figure out what works for you; just figure something out, because it's too important and you want it too much to just not write it. 

Want it. Write it. Do it. My way - wait, no - your way. Yeah. Your way.