by Jenna | Aug 5, 2015 | Writing Articles
I seem to have a business mindset at the forefront right now (see my post from last week about criteria for bestowing grants), which isn't surprising when you consider that we're going through a marketing phase in my screenwriting master class at ScreenwritingU right now.
Sonya commented on last week's post saying, "[this] is very close to the same list of things investors want to see when considering an investment in a business; a book and author are no different for a grantor (or publisher, for that matter)! They are an investment, and a risk, to manage."
It fits right in with this idea that's been swirling around in my brain: What if we treated writing like a business?
When I was in my early 20's applying for jobs, my father taught me to look at myself as a asset that I was bringing to the job interview. As if I was the CEO of my own small company, and it was up to me to make smart business decisions based on my skills, talents, and abilities, and to communicate about them objectively to my prospective employers. He also taught me to consider whether or not that employer was a good fit for me, not just whether or not I was a good fit for them.
In other words, it had to be a good match for everyone.
It occurred to me that it might be interesting to think about our writing endeavors as their own kind of enterprise. After all, at the end of the day, many of really are writer-entrepreneurs, even those of us that get traditional publishing deals.
I'm sure there are artists out there right now rolling their eyes, talking about art for art's sake and all that.
But I don't really mean this in a grasping, heavy-handed business-y / gross marketing kind of way. (Though I do believe in grounded, sustainable marketing as a valuable thing -- I do not subscribe to the belief that all marketing is evil and wrong.)
What I mean is this:
- What if we look at every writing project we take on as an investment, with pros and cons and viability to consider ALONG WITH our level of passion and artistic interest and commitment in it?
- What if we make real, practical choices about developing our skills in order to do our best work, by evaluating our writing skills not with a fixed mindset, but with a growth mindset, and pursue training and mentoring accordingly?
- What if we treat our writing like a professional commitment and show up every day to do the work?
- What if we set specific goals for our writing projects and careers and check in on them monthly, quarterly, and yearly to see how we were doing?
- What if we think about a project from start to finish, including how we will take it to market?
- What if we wrote because we said we would, and didn't wait until we "felt like it"?
Again, I don't say any of this to suggest "selling out" or becoming overly commercial.
To me it's more about the mindset of being a professional and taking our work seriously.
And, as I write this, I also know that I love exploring the side of writing that puts the focus on the joy and passion of it.
I believe there is a lovely hybrid of business and pleasure that feels like a sweet spot for each one of us. That's what I mean when I use the word "calling". More about that to come in a future post.
by Jenna | Jul 30, 2015 | Reflections
I got to thinking today, after hearing about a writing grant opportunity recently, that it would be amazing to one day be able to fund and operate a writer's grant program. Maybe even a residential one.
And instantly I started contemplating what I would want to see come in from prospective candidates with their applications.
Here's what's crossed my mind so far, in addition to the usual "proof of need" one might expect:
- A specific writing project and a description of its current status, i.e. concept development, rough draft, in rewrites, etc.
- A plan and timeline for completing it.
- A pitch for the concept that gives a sense of its marketability, audience, and reach.
- An outline of the writer's plan for marketing the project.
- Possibly also a slate of ideas for future writing projects.
- An amazing writing sample demonstrating the writer's potential.
- A personal introduction that gave a strong sense of who they are as a person, in terms of their spirit, drive, passion, and personality.
I imagine this might be something similar to what a publisher would want, though that's an area I haven't explored yet. Some of these things might be of interest to a screenwriter's manager as well.
What would be on your list?
I'm curious, if YOU had the money to give, what would be on your list of what you'd want to see from prospective candidate for a writing grant? Or if you were advising me on how to make sure I would attract and select writers best suited for making the most of a writing grant, what would you suggest?
Don't get me wrong, I'm not accepting applications yet nor will I be in a position to do something like that for the foreseeable future but I'm interested... :)
Can we use this now?
... Because:
What if we had those things right now for our current writing projects?
Would they help move us forward with a clearer sense of purpose, drive, and momentum? Or not?
What would it be like if we did?
by Jenna | Jun 18, 2015 | Writing Articles
I get kind of pissed off when people say there’s no such thing as writer’s block.
People say “you don’t ever hear of plumber’s block, do you?”
And, “Writers write. If you’re a writer, write.”
Which, yeah.
I agree with that.
Writers write.
But not when they feel stuck.
But if you think about it carefully, doesn’t writers block really mean “feeling unable to write”?
And isn’t it a bit ridiculous to tell someone there is no such thing as the feeling they are feeling?
I think it is.
One of my coaches, Jessica Michaelson, says there are no rules governing our inner emotional sanctuaries.
We get to feel how we feel. We may chose to take action that is different than how we feel – like not throwing the baby out the window when he wont stop screaming ;) or choosing to write when we are not in the mood (which is not the same thing as feeling blocked by the way) – but we may still feel angry and at wit’s end, or grouchy and out of sorts, and that’s perfectly okay.
In fact, I’m not at all sure how it helps someone who feels blocked to invalidate how they are feeling.
I will say, however, that what worries me is how writers usually chose to deal with writer’s block, and what they make it mean in their heads.
Lots of writers who feel blocked just stop writing and flat out hide. Or go around complaining that they are blocked as if they have no ability to make any kind of change their own lives.
I get equally pissed off by people who don’t choose to take action to help themselves, even if it’s a matter of reaching out for help to someone like me or any of the other wonderful writing coaches and mentors out there in the world.
But there’s a reason why we don’t.
It’s shame.
Shame is what makes us hide and stop reporting our results or asking for help.
Shame makes us say “I should be writing.”
And, “But I can’t.”
And that’s the part of me that doesn’t get pissed off but instead wants to come sweeping over to your house and give you a big giant hug and tell you it’s all going to be okay. And then make you a cup of tea and talk, really talk, about what is going on inside that head of yours and help you make a real plan for how you will start to shift and change it, with me holding your hand every step of the way.
Writing is a lonely business.
Feeling blocked is even more so.
It’s not fair to compare it to a chronic illness or depression, but in some ways it’s just as soul crippling.
And as someone who is in the business of helping people honor their soul’s calling, it’s one of the challenges I most love helping you overcome.
by Jenna | May 28, 2015 | Guest Posts
Note from Jenna: This is a guest post by Naomi Dunford, my friend and business consultant who runs IttyBiz.com.
Although she's writing from the perspective of business writing or blogging, her wonderful ideas for how to cope with "coming up empty" are useful for writers of all sorts.
Take a look and see what resonates as useful for you.
Today, I completely ran out of things to say.
I wrote the introductions for my next seven newsletters.
I found quotes for the next month.
I wrote 53 emails, planned a trip, and took two sales calls.
And I called my mother.
I should note here that I’m writing this on a Saturday.
I’m sure it comes as a surprise to nobody, but at some point in this process, I completely ran out of things to say.
And poor you! You are sitting there, breathlessly waiting for your next instalment of the IttyBiz daily and I am dry. I got nothing.
Hmm.
It’s weird when this happens. You’re on this crazy roll, getting an absolutely stupid amount of stuff done, and you’re getting accustomed to the momentum. It’s like shopping in a crazy busy mall. You get into a flow of bam! bam! bam! Dodge, charge, pivot, go, turn, and then…
Silence. Motionlessness.
It’s like all of a sudden the people are gone and the stores are shut and you’re not entirely sure what you’re supposed to do now.
What you are supposed to do now
When you are experiencing temporary burnout, you must do something that is not work.
That something should be, at minimum, comparable in time and attention level as a chunk of work. If you would be working for two hours, you should take at least two hours away. If you would be working on something mentally engrossing, you should do something equally engrossing.
This seems obvious to those around you, and yet completely counterintuitive to you. You think that you should stay busy, stay occupied, get something useful done. You think that you should try harder, or get a coffee, or stare at your computer screen for a while in case that solves the problem.
Nope. This is one of those few situations where the majority is actually right.
All your idiot friends who tell you that you need to take a little break, step away from the computer for a while? Those ones who just don’t get it?
Yeah, unfortunately, it’s you who doesn’t get it. (Please bear in mind here that when I say “you”, I mean “me”.)
Time for some practical examples!
If you were going to work on outlining your next project, and it was going to be mentally taxing, you need something that will not only utilize a completely separate area of your brain, but something that will actively restore you. A movie, perhaps. A run, maybe, as long as you’re not the type who thinks while you’re running.
If you were catching up on your emails and it wasn’t going to be taxing, you can just do something dumb and brainless. Candy Crush: Soda Saga is a nice choice here, but if you’re stuck on a level, you’ll only get five minutes. But the movie option still works. I routinely TiVo Jeopardy! for situations like this one.
If you’re doing something that’s making you numb, like taxes, you’re going to need something energizing. Some kind of personal treat would be a good idea, ideally something that gets you far away from the source of the problem. Drop in on a yoga class or get an ice cream. Bonus science points if you go somewhere you don’t normally go – it activates the novelty parts of your brain and makes you more alert for a good while afterwards.
Some tips for taking a break:
1. One thing that I find really helpful here is setting a little intention before you take your big break. I say something like, “OK, I’m going to go watch Legally Blonde so I can give my brain a chance to fully restore. That way I can come back rejuvenated and ready to kick some ass.”
I avoided doing this for a long time because I thought it was cheesy. Then I tried it and it worked. Then I tried it again and it worked again. Once the third time succeeded, I had to admit that it was a good strategy for me. I value science over ego, and if it works, it works.
2. If you hate the task, you may want to admit it to yourself. I don’t hate this task, I love it, but there are plenty I don’t love. When I was recording launch multipliers in month 11 of BIG LAUNCH, after I’d already done it once before but my computer wiped the files? Yeah, those are the kind of situations made for “Oh my God I ****ing hate my ****ing job and I ****ing hate this ****ing product and I swear I am moving to Costa Rica tomorrow.”
Sometimes, saying exactly how you feel is remarkably cathartic.
3. On the other hand, if it’s just standard issue fatigue, try to put a positive frame around your break. This is not the end of the world. You’re in a line of work that drains your resources. Being periodically drained is hardly a state of emergency. Sitting around saying you’re soooooo drained and soooooo tired and juuuuuust caaaaaaan’t work is not helpful.
Pretend you work for a moving company. Those guys are tired at the end of the day, and they probably can’t lift one more thing. You know what they do? They drink some beer, watch some baseball, and put their feet up. They do not put in an emergency call to their life coach, claiming existential catastrophe.
Sit down, enjoy your Strictly Ballroom, and smile. Your rejuvenating, not injured.
4. Plan for it. If you’re in a periodically draining line of work, this is going to happen. It might be a good idea to have a plan and some supplies on hand so you can immediately shift gears when you’re feeling the signs.
People with diabetes plan for crashes. Parents of preschoolers plan for crashes. Don’t get superstitious about this.
The more you plan for a crash, the faster you can recharge, and the faster you can get back on your feet.
Thanks for reading! Be sure to check out Naomi's other guest post here about writer's block.
