34

“Let him who would enjoy a good future waste none of his present.” – Roger Babson

One of my favorite lines from the grossly underrated Steve Martin classic, LA Story, comes from Mr. Martin’s title character.  When accused of romping around with a girl much too young for him, he replies, “She’s not so young.  She’ll be 27 in four years.”  Dry and underplayed, like so much of Steve Martin’s brilliant comedy, yet quite profound in its subtext.

I turned 34 this month and, as with each recent birthday, I played number games in my mind for the weeks preceding and postceding the anticlimactic date.

Half my life ago, I was 17.  That one depressed me.  Seventeen doesn’t seem so long ago until I add 17 to my current age and get 51.  If seventeen feels like only a moment ago, then 51 is but a moment away.  Right?

I’m half way to 68.  For some reason, this one didn’t bother me as much as the previous.  After all, while it doesn’t feel like it’s been a long time since I’ve been 17, it feels like eons since I’ve been… well, however old I was when I first harbored memories.  Hence, 68 still feels eons away.

I’m 6 years from 40.  Ouch.  I was 28 six years ago.  That seems like only yesterday.  Logically, 40 will be here… tomorrow?

I went from Larry Bird to Walter Payton.  What?  Sports fan that I am, my mind often relates numbers to digits on an athlete’s jersey.  Larry Bird, my favorite basketball player of all time, wore 33.  Walter Payton, one of my favorite running backs of all time, wore 34.  Pointless and trivial – that’s probably why it belongs in this blog.

Whatever number games I play with my own life calendar, I find being 34 matters little to me in the sense of chronology, but I don’t know how many more birthdays I can swallow before making that drastic career jump from “aspiring” to “established.”  It’s gotta happen soon.  Exactly what “it” is, is the tricky part.  I know the abstract end goal, I just don’t know the tactile evidence that will assure I’ve “made it.”  But that’s part of the excitement.

As much weight as I’m putting into my future, I need to be sure I’m utilizing my present to the fullest.  At the end of the day, all that matters is that I’ve progressed instead of regressed.  So far, so good adequate.

Examiner.com

I’ve recently accepted a position with Examiner.com as their Twin Cities Filmmaking Industry Examiner.  As such, I imagine my entries here will taper for a bit.  I’m not sure the Examiner column will be as fulfilling as this blog, but I’ll give it a shot.  Stop by and say hello: http://www.examiner.com/x-41843-Minneapolis-Filmmaking-Industry-Examiner

Obvious

“The more original a discovery, the more obvious it seems afterwards.” – Arthur Koestler

This list by screenwriting teacher Michael Hauge shouldn’t be necessary.  His tips here are so obvious that anyone writing a screenplay should just know them instinctively.

Right.  And Kansas was a lock to win this year’s NCAA Tournament.

Take special note of tip #4 from this list which is a close relative of the old screenwriting axiom – enter late, leave early.  So many screenplays I read spend a great amount of ink on “hello, how are you?” lines.  Instead of describing how two people meet each other, it’s more efficient to jump right into the conversation that necessitates the scene’s inclusion in the screenplay.

Of course, all bets are off on first drafts.  I break many of these rules in the first draft or two, but when the screenplay reaches the point where I’m ready to expose it to other eyes, I’d better have eliminated all violations.  If not, shame on me.

No Kidding the Block

“People have writer’s block not because they can’t write, but because they despair of writing eloquently.” – Anna Quindlen

My tendency is to try to write an excellent first draft of a screenplay.  I reason to myself that my rewriting will be less painful if I get my best stuff on the page the first time through.  One major problem arises from this mindset – I fret over the first words so much that I often get no words on the page.

Ms. Quindlen’s observation couldn’t fit me much better.  I’m in a constant battle with myself to turn off the censor, douse the inner editor, and muzzle the relentless perfectionist ensconced in the nether regions of my brain.  They are only welcome at the late draft parties, yet they crash the early ones.

How do I defeat my counterproductive habits that disallow quantitative writing? This short list from Dr. Format himself, Dave Trottier, may be a good place to start.

And really… no matter how hard I try, the first draft always sucks.  That’s just the way it is.

Mistakes

“A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing.” – George Bernard Shaw

Hindsight is 20/20.  What seemed like a good idea at the time can so often be revealed as a boneheaded move when reflected upon later.  In this list from Heidi Van Lier, a columnist with Film Independent, Ms. Van Lier highlights some of the peculiar mistakes she witnessed independent filmmakers make last year.  My favorite is #19 because I’ve seen many movies seemingly made in such a way.

It’s easy to roll our eyes, shake our heads, or blow a short puff of air through our nostrils as we pity the poor saps whose idiocy trumps our own.  But at least they got themselves into position to make those mistakes.  As Mr. Shaw profoundly states, it’s useless to sit on the sidelines only to avoid potential mistakes.  Go out there.  Make mistakes.  The alternative is boring.