Expectations

I’ve just submitted a script to the BBC Writers Room (literally about 10 minutes before ago, as I write this). I mentioned my plan to my Screenwriting tutor, who warned me that the Writers Room has bad rep for being a cosmetic exercise that rarely leads to anything. This seemed fair warning from a man with a strong independent, self-publishing, go-and-film-it-yourself mentality, and whilst even the blurb on the page says it’s rare the scripts themselves will be made, having heard Anne Edyvean talk at the Mosely Litfest about the opportunities it has opened for some writers, it seemed worth a punt. If nothing else, it was an excuse to extract it from the dusty recesses of my hard drive and sort out the issues raised in my feedback.

Given the low chance of success for breaking in with any creative project, I’ve generally found that keeping my expectations low whilst repeatedly butting my head against the wall is the best way to stay sane during this process*. There was a wonderful blog post Kristen Lamb made some time back (I mentioned it in an old blog post running along a similar theme as this) about the real odds of success… It basically says the odds are crappy, but…if only 5% of people get through the slush, and only 5% of those get a request for full, and only 5% of those get signed by the agent…etc etc…well the only way to succeed is to keep trying. Because even if the odds are against you, as long as you’re working on your craft, and you’re submitting, eventually something will hit. There’s no guarantee it’s going to be the success you might want, but if you don’t try, then it will never happen.

This was the essence of the conversation I had with my husband on Tuesday morning, the first real “day off” I’ve had since my assignment was in. After the kids were at school & nursery, the laundry was on, I’d washed up, cleaned the cooker, even listened to a particularly excellent episode of the Ditchdiggers podcast, with Lexi Alexander talking scripts and films…even then, before emailing my tutor, as I eyed up the chaos that is our house, I asked “should I even be wasting my time?”

Lovely man that he is, my husband replied “You’re not wasting your time.”

“There’s pretty much zero chance of anything coming out of this.”

He shrugged. “There’s only zero chance if you don’t submit.”

And that’s the (slightly rambling) story of why our house is still a mess, (but I’ve got my first sitcom submitted to the BBC! Huzzah!)

 

 

*Whatever you might hear to the contrary…