Trese, thank you for your candid words and question. My first words
to you are... DON'T JUMP!!! I just thought of something: I
hope you weren't precariously balanced on the ledge outside your window,
desperately looking at your lap top, waiting for an answer from me, and
were so startled by my capitalized imperative that you went over that
ledge! (Unless you live on the ground floor. And, if that be
the case, you'd probably only fall enough to knock some sense into you --
my mother's, and probably yours also, words exactly..) AND DON'T LET
MY SUDDEN AWARENESS OF MY POSSIBLE STARTLING STARTLE YOU! I think it
might be better if I stopped capitalizing my compulsive thoughts. I
have a tendency to let my thoughts run riot. Such as thoughts about
how the entire film business has only one, true, and hidden purpose in
mind: to thwart me. Yes, I'm sure there's a conspiracy
somewhere in the Hollywood Machine and its express mission is to make
sure I never sell another script again. Wait. Now that I think
of it, maybe that isn't perfectly true. According to what you,
Trese, seem to be going through, Hollywood must be conspiring to also keep
you from succeeding. Okay, I'm hereby changing my
thinking to this: Hollywood's express mission is to make sure Trese
and I don't succeed as screenwriters. (If you have any depressed
screenwriter friends who feel the same way, feel free to e-mail me about
them and I'll add them to the list.)
You ask, "How do I stay positive in the business?"
Well, I get up every morning, look at myself in the mirror and say a
thousand times, "You're a great screenwriter. People care about
you. Especially your agent. And you're going to have a
positive, screenwriting day." Then I bounce over to the
computer (right after I say, "Good morning, Mr. Mailman. Thank
you for being the messenger for the big checks and offers I receive
through the wonderful postal system of this beautiful country, the U. S.
of A. -- even though, sometimes he's not actually there. In fact,
since I've been doing this positive ritual, he seems to not come around as
much as he used to when I would wait for him for hours in my bathrobe to
say it to him -- and kiss my phone, thanking it for the multitudinous
calls it will bring to me from those seeking my writing talents.
Then I kiss my fax machine. Then I kiss my cell phone. Then I
go wash my mouth.) and start typing away on my next scene, knowing that
it's going to be a wonderfully, productive morning.
Actually, the fastest way to get me into a negative way is to tell me
to be positive. I positively hate that. Don't try to force
your sophomoric, Bozo-lipped, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, life on me,
pal! I'll be as surly, sullen, and sad as I choose. So bugger
off before I take out my sharp, quill pen and jab it in your light-hearted
heart, thereby confirming the saying, "The pen is mightier than the
sword."
Truth to tell, there might be some middle ground between the two
extremes I just offered. I find that as soon as I label my mood --
"positive, confident, depressed, hopeless, hopeful, ready to
jump for joy, ready to jump off the roof, inspired to write,
inspired to never write again, prepared to receive an Oscar, prepared to
kill, Oscar, my writing partner, etc.," I lock myself down; I begin
to restrict that mercurial substance of which I am made. The
opposite of your mood or belief is just waiting for you to declare
it. Check in your closet (your literal and figurative one).
You'll find it. For example: As soon as you say to yourself
that you are a confident screenwriter, your opposite mood or belief, lack
of confidence in your screenwriting, will start warming up in the
bullpen. I'm sure you've seen that happen more times than you can
count. (And who wants to count when you're depressed?) Your
confidence turns into its reversed reflection. Your hope soon attaches
the "lessness." Your love of screenwriting becomes your
total disgust with the entire process. Your joy of eating Cold Stone
ice cream becomes a repulsive drudgery. (Well... maybe it doesn't
work with desserts. But you get the idea.)
If the former case I submitted be the case, then what do we
screenwriters (and artists and everybody else who has had a problem with
mood swings) do?
AVOID THE SWING
I know I said I wouldn't capitalize my compulsive
thoughts, but you have to admit when you setoff capital letters like that
it does give the illusion that I came up with something profound and
important for the world to know. BUT I THINK IT ACTUALLY IS
IMPORTANT (Sorry; did it again.) Avoid the swing. (not the
kind that you might take a ride on in the park. Or that dance where
you pretend you're back in the 1950's. The other kind.)
ATS. You can use that acronym (or "A" -- the
one-letter-acronym for "acronym") to remember. Avoid the
swing. Don't get caught up in your own delusions about
yourself. The really dark ones are definitely not true (as long as
you're not a serial killer -- or a mailman who throws away envelopes with
screenplays and large checks) And the "Theme from Rocky"
ones aren't either. (Unless you run at dawn through Philadelphia
with a throng of scary-looking children chasing you up steps and dance in
slow motion with them.) Just stay on track with your project at
hand. Let all your moods and changing beliefs about yourself and the
world around you pass through your mind, but DON'T ATTACH TO THEM.
(This is getting more "Zenesque" all the time.) But it
works. Those Zen Guys (I think that's what they call
themselves) really knew what they were talking about. Or not talking
about. Or meditating about. One of those Zen koans applies
here and may help you to not fall into the positive/negative rut:
(I'm going to set off this pithy saying from the rest and capitalize it to
make it appear important and have more pith):
IF A SCREENWRITER GETS DEPRESSED, WILL HIS AGENT HEAR
HIM?
from the book of Hollywoodia Depressium