I don’t know if anyone is interested, but someone suggested I keep a play-by-play account as this thing rolls along. It sounded like a good idea, though I can't promise it'll be very entertaining. If you can't make it to the end I wouldn't blame you.
I submitted my script on March 21 and I don't know about you but I can't sit on any draft for that long without revising, polishing, sweating over, or screaming at the pages in front of me. And so in that time I would come back to the darn thing every once in awhile until the draft was rather different than the one I submitted. And like all revised drafts, the new one is always so much better than that old clunker. At least hope you feel the same way, otherwise I may need to see someone.
The first thing I needed to do after learning that I'd won was get everyone else, Carson, Mike and Omar on the same page... I had this awesome new draft sitting on my desk and before it went out to Geoff for notes, or Mike and Omar sent it to their contacts I needed them to realize that the old version was history.
Except... what if it wasn't as good?! What if they hated it? What if they realized they'd made a terrible mistake and, and, and... oh god, I'm a failure! (Welcome to my mind, kids.)
Anyway, Carson sent a congrats email and I asked if I could send him the new draft to pass along to Geoff. He said sure so I sent it off.
A couple days later, on Monday, Aug. 3, I got an email from Mike asking if Thursday, Aug. 6th at 3pm was a good time to set up a call between Mike, Omar and myself.
I said sure, but then I remembered something only those of us East of the Rockies really fear.... Having to admit to someone with connections that we don't live in L.A.
Me: You mean 3pm... PST, right?
In my head: he's gonna regret even agreeing to help judge the contest. he's going to be so annoyed that I don't live in L.A. that he'll tell his computer I'm a SpamBot
Mike: That's 3pm PST. I'll call you. Just send me your number.
In my head: oh...okay... well... that was easy.
Except, wait... I had to tell him that the draft he had just read, and probably had notes for, was worthless... and that I'd wasted his time. He's going to hate me!
Me: Do you want it now, or should we just talk about it on the call?
Mike: We'll discuss it on the call.
Bullet. Dodged.
I submitted my script on March 21 and I don't know about you but I can't sit on any draft for that long without revising, polishing, sweating over, or screaming at the pages in front of me. And so in that time I would come back to the darn thing every once in awhile until the draft was rather different than the one I submitted. And like all revised drafts, the new one is always so much better than that old clunker. At least hope you feel the same way, otherwise I may need to see someone.
The first thing I needed to do after learning that I'd won was get everyone else, Carson, Mike and Omar on the same page... I had this awesome new draft sitting on my desk and before it went out to Geoff for notes, or Mike and Omar sent it to their contacts I needed them to realize that the old version was history.
Except... what if it wasn't as good?! What if they hated it? What if they realized they'd made a terrible mistake and, and, and... oh god, I'm a failure! (Welcome to my mind, kids.)
Anyway, Carson sent a congrats email and I asked if I could send him the new draft to pass along to Geoff. He said sure so I sent it off.
A couple days later, on Monday, Aug. 3, I got an email from Mike asking if Thursday, Aug. 6th at 3pm was a good time to set up a call between Mike, Omar and myself.
I said sure, but then I remembered something only those of us East of the Rockies really fear.... Having to admit to someone with connections that we don't live in L.A.
Me: You mean 3pm... PST, right?
In my head: he's gonna regret even agreeing to help judge the contest. he's going to be so annoyed that I don't live in L.A. that he'll tell his computer I'm a SpamBot
Mike: That's 3pm PST. I'll call you. Just send me your number.
In my head: oh...okay... well... that was easy.
Except, wait... I had to tell him that the draft he had just read, and probably had notes for, was worthless... and that I'd wasted his time. He's going to hate me!
Me: Do you want it now, or should we just talk about it on the call?
Mike: We'll discuss it on the call.
Bullet. Dodged.
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