You’re at home and the phone rings. It’s Shonda Rhimes. You’re surprised that she called you, but at the same time, delighted. She needs your help. Have you seen her latest episode of TV? She’d like your thoughts. Do you have any notes for her?
You probably do. And if you don’t, you might make some up, just to feel useful.
I’m putting forth this seemingly ridiculous circumstance to make a point. Thoughts, notes, comments on our writing work are part of the job. Whether you’re in a writing class or creating something for a network show, people will have stuff to say about the work. And the higher up the food chain you go, the more responsibility you have, the MORE comments will come your way. No one gets to the place where their writing is so pristine and perfect that it’s above criticism. (Perfect doesn’t exist and opinions are rampant.) You only have to look at social media to find a sea of commentary about every show under the sun. (And everything under the sun.) No one will be spared. So, get ready.
Getting ready looks like practicing detachment – being willing to let all those opinions wash over you like rain. Yeah, you’re getting wet, but you’ll be dry before long. You can keep moving through and expect to survive.
Getting ready might mean having a ritual in place to soothe yourself after the harshest ideas are presented. Maybe you’re fond of bubble baths or chocolate. Have them standing by.
Getting ready could involve keeping your trusted writer friends on stand-by. A debrief call after a notes session can feel so good.
Journaling might be your version of this. Or exercise. Or watching a favorite film or TV show. Or having a delicious dinner.
Getting ready could touch on something I haven’t mentioned here, something that no one knows about but you. Whatever it is (as long it’s not illegal or harmful) do it.
I’ve long said that being an artist is like being in a constant grief process. There are tremendous joys along with some thorny disappointments. Half the battle is learning how to soothe yourself and rest up for the next adventure. If you’re planning to stay in the game, you’ll need to do that over and over again.
Few people talk about this. I never heard about it in any writing class or seminar. It’s not about having a “thick skin” – it’s about learning to utilize a personal process of healing. I always want to be told I’m brilliant, perfect, and that my work is fantastic EXACTLY as it is. But opinions are everywhere. And perfect doesn’t exist.
In practical terms, before you get to the rewriting phase, you’ll have the opportunity to decide which notes fit with your vision and which ones don’t. There may be notes you have to take. And there may be notes you can do while still maintaining the essence of what you want in the script. But before you get to that execution phase, take a moment to chill out and be kind to yourself.
For now: take out a piece of paper (or open up a document on your computer) and create your list of things that make you feel top notch. Be ready to roll them out when notes come at you. Because they’re coming.
This week, use that list. Soothe yourself.
And let me know how it goes.