TV or Not TV?

When my interest in screenwriting emerged a few years ago, somewhat late (too late, if you ask anyone west o' the Mississippeh), my focus was on features - specs, to be more specific. In that time, I've taken a few courses and sporadically written chunks of two different scripts, though I've yet to finish a draft of either. I'm still intent on completing them, in spite of myself and my absence of writer's discipline. However, with a script sale rate of 4 per thousand, it's a tough gig. Throw in an aversion to pitching and an age that exceeds 29 and it becomes Mission: Highly Improbable.

Is that cynical or am I just being realistic? A recent article essentially eulogized the spec market and deferred all new contestants to television writing instead. I'm considering the shift. I'd never considered the TV market before and still prefer to stay clear of it, but what alternative is there? Web? Gadget apps? I just want to tell a story. I'll write it the best way I know how. The conventional wisdom has always been that all you need is a great script. Perhaps I'm naive, but a part of me holds on to that as being true. Hopefully, someone in the industry does, too.

Lightning, the Lottery and Selling a Script

The odds of selling a spec script in today's market are probably close to that of being struck by lightning while holding a winning lottery ticket in your hand. A recent article about the state of the spec market reminded me that I'm facing a thick brick wall, armed with only a keyboard. That wall is made up of a Hollywood mindset that strongly suggests I have no place in the industry, that I should turn tail and go home. Part of the wall is my own making - my brain getting in the way. And yet, I persist in trying to become a screenwriter. Why? Because I don't care about the wall. It wouldn't be healthy to.

It's not about 'making it' for me. Would I like to get paid ridiculous sums of money for the fruits of my imagination? Sure, but that's not the purpose of telling a story. I can't let it be about an occupation. It's about the joy of creating. I have stories to tell and this is the medium I've chosen to tell them. When I finish one, I'll dangle it over the wall along with the thousands of other story danglers, but that's all. If my scripts do nothing but sit in a trunk in an attic somewhere, that's fine. Someone will find them, read them and think, "Hey, that was a pretty cool thing to find." Or "Wow, I can't believe people used to print words on paper." Either way, the stories will live on. I'd be okay being the next Philip K. Dick.

Rejection is the norm and I'm fine with that. You have to be. You can't take it personally and you can't let it deter you. Have to have a thick skin or you really should go home. Any "thank you for playing" form letters you get should be considered a badge of honor. Frame 'em, I say. And what if I get a bite? What then? It's not exactly sunshine and rainbows. Sure, you can pay your bills for a while, but there's a price beyond the payday. Before long, you've been asked to alter your story until it's unrecognizable, the tale you sought to tell is lost and your heart's not in it anymore. That's par for the course. You can't go into this thinking the movie will even remotely resemble your draft. Yet, the thought of having a writing credit on a feature film is drool-inducing.

So, I know the game. I have realistic expectations, but I'm also ever the optimist. There is no wall for me. I hear thunder. Anyone for Powerball?