Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Crises

Ugh, I am stressing out about the stupidest things. Like, after an update of my (night)life pictures on facebook, I just realized that I do not have a neck. Seriously, head and shoulders, and that's it. Do I need to start wearing ridiculously plunging v-necks? Cease all weight-lifting involving the shoulders? Constantly gaze upward? Employ a three-pronged attack involving all of these? Honestly, I don't know what to do.

I am also reading Billion Dollar Kiss: The Kiss That Saved DAWSON'S CREEK and Other Adventures in TV Writing by Jeffrey Stepakoff. So far, it is more or less a memoir about his journey to becoming a TV writer. I enjoy it, and relate to many of his anecdotes...except for the part where he meets John Wells at a college alumni event, sends him scripts, gets meetings with agents who want to represent him, and makes a ton of money writing for TV while still in his mid twenties. Arrrrgh sometimes I feel so far away from this. I know the only cure is to just keep writing so I will have scripts to show my John Wells-equivalent after I finish my year on the agency desk... but I am never in the mood to write, I am constantly thinking all of my stuff is crap and that no draft will be final. And that I am stupid to think I can possibly make it in a business that is getting more elite with the production of fewer pilots and the replacing of scripted fare with shows about Better Dads and Smarter 5th Graders. And that I am a horrible person for moving 3,000 miles away from my family and then constantly asking them for money so I can watch cable and eat Kashi bars. And then suddenly my crisis becomes less about what the hell to do with Celia on page 29 and more about the doubts I have about my life and "career" and myself in general.

But maybe this is what I'm supposed to be doing? Tortured artist and whatnot? It would just be great if I could crank out some quality scripts in the meantime.

5 comments:

Brian said...

I read your blog with some frequency and just wanted to remind you that you're not alone in this boat. I too am a struggling/aspiring TV writer living in LA. I know it can feel like rolling a square rock up a near-vertical hillside. A hillside made of quicksand. While you're wearing shoes made of molasses. Blindfolded. Without arms.

But I (and you too) will have a great story to shout out to everyone at the summit. Hang in there.

Peter said...

"Writer's with talent think everything they write is crap. Writer's with no talent think everything they write is great."

Can't remember where I read it (and it's far from a direct quote), but it's something that's definitely stuck with me.

All you can do is keep fighting the good fight, and know that the mere fact you're questioning your writing is a good sign...

Jane said...

This post is not Amanda talking, it's THE COLD talking. There's a deadly inescapable cold going around LA and it's turning everybody in negative, depressed, and hopeless people. It's like THE COLD has brought a little bit of Britain to our sunny climes. (With apologies to the Brits. You know I love you.)

I fell victim to THE COLD, too. Just ride it out and you'll start feeling better about the whole uphill molasses struggle soon.

xJ

glassblowerscat said...

Just found your blog, and this post rings a very resonating bell. I'm with peter - a person of high standard is never satisfied with her own work.

Echo all the frustrations that implies, and which you clearly feel.

Noumenon said...

Based on your headshot, you don't need a neck...