(Trying to) Light a fire under my butt
So much to say, but so little discipline to consistently say it.
I so shouldn’t be doing this.
Creating yet another thing.
Here’s the deal. I love Substack and I have a bunch of intriguing ideas for posts but I can’t help but be haunted by the Ghosts of the Abandoned Blog. Two blogs, actually, that I built up, was proud of, then let whither on the vine.
Then there’s the haunting wail of the Lethargic Newsletter Demon. If you’re a subscriber to my Story Maps Newsletter for Serious Screenwriters (!), then you no doubt have the same reaction when you get my newest release in your inbox. This guy’s still alive?
Throw in the Curse of the Perfectionist and you have a tidal wave of wariness on my part to start yet another thing where I would no doubt come out of the box screaming, raising hell and throwing karate chops, maybe putting out some really compelling content that seems to have a lot of potential and maybe gets great response from others, and could really just catch on … if I were to just, you know, keep doing it. But that’s not my strength. The writing is fine, and I really think (maybe “know” if I’m feeling myself) that I have something great to contribute. But my track record on the internet finds my war yell reduced to a whisper, then a “fuggit” followed by giving up and moving on to the next shiny thing.
Did I forget to mention my trail of dead bodies includes my Eisenhower-era YouTube Channel which still features videos shot with a, wait for it, Flipcam?
Yes, that says 15 YEARS AGO. I even highlighted it for you, so you don’t miss it. (RIP Cannoli, a girl cat who hated everyone but me.)
Point being, I do NOT have a great track record with this shit. This doesn’t mean I don’t still write. I still devote hundreds of hours every year to my creative writing. But that’s mostly on screenplays, features and pilots, that never see the lens of a camera. At the moment, I have four original, half hour pilots that I think are damn good, which doesn’t count for anything, plus a few small, paid rewrite assignments (one feature, one pilot) in the past year, and a couple formerly best-selling non-fiction books about screenwriting (which I am, shockingly, struggling to update to our new era of “Streaming Everything”).
It’s not that I don’t write. It’s just that I don’t write this kind of thing — quality internet posts that are worth people’s time — on a consistent basis . Which is something I would like to do.
And I have. In the past. A bit. But I never stuck with it.
Not that I ever think about this failure, because I’m definitely not going through any type of mid-life crisis. I’m definitely not stopping myself from producing good stuff because I’m spending all of my time mulling over, analyzing, and ruminating upon my past failures 24/7. I’m not coming up with story concepts directly mined from my subconscious horrors, like a film about a guy who tricks local teens into re-enacting his high school prom in a misguided attempt to identify the moment when his life went off course and somehow correct it. Synecdoche, New York meets Peggy Sue Got Married?
Please, look away.
Let’s face it. For many of us, putting out content is the equivalent of standing up in class and reading your paper in front of the teacher and 29 other kids. It can be thrilling, but it’s preceded by a ton of nerves, a lot of catastrophizing, and, also, it feels like torture. And we all know that consistency matters on the internet. And that’s not my strong suit.
But I’m trying, Ringo. I’m trying really hard.
I’ve been inspired by all the great, passionate writing on Substack, and I think I might just have a unique hat to throw into the ring. A tight, well-edited, turn-laden, surprisingly entertaining and relevant hat to toss into said arena of combat.
So let’s try this.
Again.
Maybe.
I think.
To be clear, I’m totally prepared for the possibility that this may be the ONLY post on this Substack. That’s how easily I can be pulled away by the next shiny thing.
But here’s the difference. The important part.
I’m not doing this for anyone else.
I’m writing this for me.
I don’t care about how many subscribers I get. I have no plans to monetize this platform. I don’t even know if I will link to it from my other social accounts.
This is my private thing. It’s for fun. Introspection. Experimentation. It’s not another tool to promote my business. I may do some great networking here by accident, but that’s not my intention. My brain is already filled to the brim with enough reminders to post more stuff on my existing social channels to “keep my name out there.” Yuck. Sick of it. Sick of worrying if I’ll get likes or comments or new business. That’s why I dropped Twitter and decided to post less on Facebook and Instagram. I want off the bus.
This especially applies to my creative work, which I hope will be a key portion of this substack. The first item on my New Year’s Resolutions for 2024 said “Write only for passion.” I’m burnt out on trying to write screenplays for the market/managers/producers/execs/industry contacts. I just want to have fun and feel like I’m doing my absolute best work. I’ll say it again.
This one’s for me.
So here I go. Maybe you’re interested to see where this goes. Maybe not. Only time will tell if this even goes anywhere.
As I take this step, I’m reminded of one of my favorite lines. It’s corny, but I love it.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.
I’ll see you when I see you.
Sincerely,
Dan
P.S. I hate when people try to pass off really old photos of themselves as current, so just so you don’t think I’m trying to do that with the YouTube and cat pic above, here I am now…
Just kidding. That pic just cracks me up.*
For real, here I am from a few weeks ago. No cap. (Kill me.) Okay, the skin smoothing filter was on for this pic, so it’s not entirely accurate, but you know what I mean and what are you, the photo police?
*Because I will always endeavor to give credit where credit is due, shout-out to the adorable Jordyn McIntosh as Little Paige on Hulu’s Unprisoned (2023). Photo credit: Hulu?