Reay Jespersen

So here it is. Day 100 of the second attempt on the 100 Words for 100 Days self-imposed challenge.

As I suspected, it did, indeed, become easier to complete when I did it right after waking up most days. The days when that didn’t happen were the only risky ones. Also helping was setting my watch to go off at a late hour - late enough to rarely be out anywhere, but early enough that it would be before sleeping - in order to be a back-up reminder that, had I not done my words, now was the time to do them. Also helping was Jackie, who felt bad for my having dropped the ball on the previous challenge, reminding me to write when she remembered, which also caught a couple of times I hadn’t yet done it.

So is writing a habit yet? I’d say not, but it’s getting close. The real issue is that my life is varied enough that I don’t have a particular time when I’ll always be able to do it. Even right after waking up doesn’t always work, as it’s not uncommon for us to wake up and hit the laundromat before eating or showering on a weekend day just to beat the usual crush of people. I can bring a notebook and pen and try to write there, I suppose, but the point is that even my mornings, which here have proven to be the most effective time to get at least small amounts of writing done, are varied enough to prevent a routine writing time.

All I can do is strive to write every day and hope that my life soon becomes at least a bit more routine day-to-day so things like standard waking hours and hours returning from work, etc., is more predictable and can be worked around for writing (and really, the planning of many other things…)

In any case, the completion of the 100 Days challenge doesn’t feel as glorious or taste as sweet as I thought it would when I first decided to do it all over again, but I gotta say, it does feel pretty damn good.

So here’s the thing, straight-up:
I’m putting the two book projects I have in mind on the back burner for the time being. I know I said I was going to focus and see through one project after another in order to get things done, but two events happened that required a re-evaluation of priorities.

1) I saw Narnia - Prince Caspian. I’ve never read the books, nor heard of events in them (other than overreaching concepts about The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe), but yet found a startling number of similarities between Prince Caspian and my one book idea. On the one hand, I get that there are similarities in fiction, and that such will always be the case. On the other hand, I wouldn’t want to pour my heart and soul (to say nothing of time) into something which will undoubtedly bring about derivative comparisons to Prince Caspian. I pride myself on my creativity and only want to work on ideas that are my own and stand apart as distinct from other ideas. I simply wouldn’t be able to keep working on that book as it stood and not have a constant reminder in the back of my brain saying that what I’m writing had already been done - and probably done better than what I was doing. This isn’t to say that the one book idea is totally dead, but needs a serious re-hashing.

2) The next Pitch Expo is coming up in a couple of months. I attended last year, and found it to be pretty well done. Not only were there a good number of agents and movie/TV production company reps in attendance, ready to hear whatever ideas people had to pitch them, but it will likely be bigger and better this year. And frankly, I want to go with something fresh to pitch. Which isn’t to say I’ll not bother with the ideas I pitched last year (which still have amazing potential), but I don’t want to show up without something newer to present, as well.

While my abandoning the book projects for the time being in favour of other projects goes directly against what I said I’d do, the fact of the matter is that one has to be practical. Pushing through book projects which are open-ended, as opposed to focusing on other material for a pending deadline that could serve me very well, doesn’t make sense to me.

Thus, I’m intending on working on a new screenplay I’ve had in mind for a while, and perhaps revisit an animated kids TV series idea I had a few years back. And hopefully my focus will be sharp enough that it’ll get some new, polished material finished come September.

Stay tuned!

Why, that would be me!

You remember that time I mentioned the one page screenplay contest? Way back like, er… three weeks ago? Yeah, well, turns out the finalists were selected, and I’m one of them.

That’s the kind of thing that makes a guy feel good about a career he aspires to, y’know?

More news on that front as I get it.

… perhaps not including the weekends. I told Jackie last night about my grand plans, and given that she has trouble getting back to sleep once she’s woken up in the morning, she informed me if I dare wake her up early on weekends, she’d kill me.

Since I’ve no intention of sleeping on the couch Friday and Saturday nights just to allow me to get up early to write, I may have to make the early rising a weekday-only thing. I’m a writer, after all, not a crazy person.

… although…

94.
I went 94 days straight fulfilling the terms of the challenge put forth to me by Tracy: to write at least 100 words for 100 days in a row. You couldn’t double up one day and miss the next, as the challenge decreed: you had to write every single day, and if you missed a day, the 100 days rebooted and started over again.

Well, it was a hell of a run, but I realized this morning that in our long drive from visiting family out of town through yesterday, I came home last night, unwound for a bit, and went to bed. No writing done. I had a few scant story ideas jotted down (ironically, not in themselves reminding me I hadn’t done my needed writing for the day), but not enough to add to the needed total; and frankly, that would be a bit of a cop-out anyway.

However, shattered as I was to have been so close to finishing the challenge cleanly the first time out and then dropping the ball for no really good reason - I mean, I’m very busy these days in various aspects of life, but yesterday I had a about an hour when Jackie was driving when I could’ve been writing instead of chatting, and not once did it occur to me to do so, beyond said story ideas - I’ve actually come through it with a much more positive outlook.

I suspect that a large part of my forgetting to write yesterday was that it had never become a habit, as I was hoping it would. Initially, the notion of making myself write at least 100 words every day suggested that I’d get so use to doing it after that time that it would become habit. Thing is, with my routinely late work hours for part of the week, and then various other things going on at home keeping Jackie and me both hopping (along with the everyday/week things that keep everyone busy), I was just writing throughout the day as I could: sometimes in the morning, a couple of times at work or on the transit ride in the morning, sometimes at night back home… basically, whenever time allowed. I never made it a real priority. Hence, there was no routine put in place. Hence, no habit formed.

I decided that what I’m going to do is combine two different elements in my writing, both of which are inspired by Tracy. First, I’m going to keep a record of how much I write every day. Secondly, I’m going to re-try (and this time DO) the 100 words for 100 days challenge. And finally, my own twist on it: I’m going to get up at the same time every day to write.

Since I can never be sure what my days at work nor my evenings and nights may hold in store, mornings are the only part of my day I have any real control over. Thus, I’m going to start getting up when Jackie does and write even before I eat breakfast. I will do my 100+ words every morning (likely over a set amount of time, perhaps 45 minutes, which would take me up to the time I’ve been getting up weekdays), dutifully record how much I wrote, and then carry on with my day as I normally would, without fear or concern that I need to remember to get that writing in whenever I’m able to.

It was Alex - a Florida resident for a while now, and so sadly distant, but still my best friend - who pointed out some years back that the short stint during which I made myself get up earlier and write before going to work were some of my happiest days. I felt good accomplishing something I enjoyed doing, and it did brighten my day-to-day routine. This plan will also get me back to that place: whatever negative things may be dealt to me over the course of the day won’t be as bad, because I’ll be in a better headspace to start with.

On the downside, it means no more sleeping in. And though I’m not doing it nearly as much the older I get (an aging thing, parents have assured me), I still vastly prefer sleeping in later to going to sleep earlier. But really, if I’m going to give this habit development its due, I have to do this every day, not just weekdays.

The other downside is that in order to get up earlier but get enough sleep every night (something I all too often neglect to give myself), I’m going to have to be going to bed earlier than I normally do. Regularly.

But I’m serious about this. I want writing to be a habit for me - not something I make myself do - and the only way that’s going to happen is to put this plan into action.

I just found out tonight that Tracy slipped on her 100 day challenge, as well. And while I was going to start again today (stand up again, dust myself off, and git back in the saddle, as it were), she’s starting Wednesday and wanted to know if I wanted to start with her, which holds appeal. Thus, Wednesday the 21st (er… one day before I was going to finish the initial 100 day challenge) shall be day 1 of the 100 day writing challenge - TAKE 2!

So I entered two one page screenplays to said competition, each based directly upon two of my drabble stories I thought would lend themselves well to such a medium. Not totally sure when the next set of demo readings are going to be posted online (if any of mine show up, I’ll be sure to mention it), nor when the contest winner will be determinted, but here’s hoping I get somewhere with it.

It would lead to the smallest demo reel ever (and it doesn’t get much more baby steps than starting with a one minute movie to my credit), but one’s gotta start somewhere!

Just to keep you posted, there are three writing-related items of note at this point:

1) A local agency I’d pitched to late last year has recently gotten back in touch with me asking to get a sample of my material.

2) A local group of producers who created and sold the first season of a new series to an international network has expressed interest in checking out my TV series ideas for potentially producing, and are currently reviewing the package of material I sent their way.

3) Barry just sent me a link to a site that has one page screenplay competitions. There are a handful of drabbles I’ve written up that I think would lend themselves well to such tight length constraints. The dealine’s in a week and a half, so I’ve got to get my screenwriting software re-installed on my new desktop and get crackin’.

As night fell, he stood on the edge of the building, watching. Some of the local capes had already paid him a visit, telling him to toe the proverbial company line with either veiled or blunt threats; some even questioning which side of the law he stood on. Which should have been obvious: he only pursued those wrongly escaping the loose-knit net of the law. Criminals, rapists and killers walked free routinely. Their victims deserved justice, and if the law failed to deliver it, he was certainly going to.

Time to get to work.
He leaped from the building.

There was a shy knock on the door. Judy answered it, finding Satan standing on the doorstep.
“Morning, Stan,” she said cheerfully, always having been more comfortable with the truncation.
“Morning, Judy,” Satan said warmly. “Listen, my, uh… lawnmower’s acting up again, and I’m sure you’ve noticed my front lawn…” He smiled sheepishly as she nodded. The neighbourhood committee would have a fit.
“Ours is in the garage,” she said. “Help yourself.” He thanked her and left.
She closed the door, shaking her head. Always loaning to him. Such was life in street number 668, the neighbour of the Beast.

Jed stood on the dropfloor in rank with the other soldiers, all standing in armoured exoatmospheric suits. The computerized voice in their helmets let them know it was fifteen seconds to drop. Those who didn’t already have their visors down and locked did so, and got into drop formation.

Jed and the others would drop through the hatch doors and fall from ultra-low orbit to strike the target far below with extreme prejudice.

Five seconds.

Jed always hated this part. It wasn’t the flight or hitting the ground, but the initial, lurching drop that always got him.

He fell.