So Scars version 2.0 is now officially done, dusted, and out of my brain. Well, it had to happen sooner or later, right?
I put it to bed around the wee hours last night after deciding to stop farting around editing a page here and a page there and just get the last twenty pages (pretty much the climax and denouement) done in a late-night session, which ended up being very cathartic – like finally pinching off a loaf that’s been um-ing and ah-ing about for days on end.
Yes, screenwriting is a lot like shitting. Or maybe I’m just doing it wrong.
[I bet most other writers spend a lot of time on the toilet, though.]
So yeah, it’s done. What now, you cry?
Well, I’ll answer you, strangely enthusiastic reader: now I send the thing away and don’t spend a thought on it for bloody ages. Screenwriting guru and author of Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting Syd Field recommends putting each new draft in a drawer and leaving it to simmer for 6 weeks or so. Seeing as I’ve been following his three-act structure method for my first feature-length, I figure I’ll stick at it since I’ve gotten this far.
I’m also planning to send Scars 2.0 to a few friends, both in and out of the trade, to give me their take on the script and whether it should be locked in a lead chest and dumped in the middle of the Atlantic. I only got notes from one person on the first draft, largely because it was an embarrassing mess and they told me so, ergo the humiliation was reduced. I’m giving this one to six people, I think. Stephen Kings says you should give your work to an even number of readers, because it’s easier to reach a consensus that way and you can cast the tie-breaking vote in the event thereof.
So yeah. Kind of a milestone. I’m hoping for a lot of those this year.