It’s been four five years since I pivoted to screenwriting. At times, words still don’t come easy. Other rarer times, I felt I knew better now.
So I was somewhat resistant when the program manager said in order to land the fall teaching gig, I also had to do the unpaid summer writing workshop with a bunch of newer and Chinese writers. I browsed the syllabus written in English and was completely convinced that I would get nothing out of it.
Then I sat in for the last writing workshop the institute held for its spring semester students. I couldn’t believe how reminiscent I felt about that environment: eight writers, one instructor, eight scripts to critique, nine minds to mingle.
Right after the workshop, I texted the program manager: “Sign me up.”
Tomorrow will be my audition lecture before anything else can happen. I’ve obviously over-prepared. But nothing is an overdo if you want it bad.
The other driver for me is my own level of screenwriting. I can be helluva a kickass critic for other people’s work. But when it comes to my own stuff, I grow soft. I know I should do the opposite. But it’s too fucking hard. Just like body trainers have their own trainers. Learning from a legit Hollywood screenwriter this summer would be a great way to update my own software.
These days, I keep coming back to the glass metaphor. Make it empty, so you can add water in it. If you don’t keep refreshing it, the stale water would smell.
It’s chemistry. It’s life.