Feedback is scary but...

It's been a rough week work-wise. I've been feeling very down in the dumps about my situation. Throughout December I was on such a high regarding my writing and the staged reading and then had a terrific holiday in Michigan and then came back to an empty inbox, no phone calls and stacks of scripts on my desk with no where to go. Depressing to say the least.

To top it all off? I'd received feedback in late December from a source I was excited about. I sent them my favorite script, the baseball one, and was itching with excitement. And the feedback was negative. I was crushed. I put it away and let the negativity fester in my mind until I decided maybe I wasn't supposed to be a writer after all. Maybe I'd squandered my time these past five years when I could have been getting a teaching certificate or some other marketable skill. I was basically screwed. Or so I thought.

Then this week I spoke with a friend. She had received similar feedback on two of her scripts from a similar source. We commiserated and complained and lifted each other up. But it felt a little artificial because deep down we both wondered if this was the plan. So we agreed to read each other's work, read the feedback and discuss. Honestly. Openly. Without regards of the other person's feelings.

I set about reading her script this week. I talked to her and gave her my notes and we agreed some changes could be made. But I still couldn't bring myself to read my notes again. I printed them on Thursday and left them on the printer all day and all night. Friday morning the black words on that stark white paper stared up at me. I had to face the music. So yesterday I took the two pages and I read them through. I distilled the feedback down into bullet points on two note cards. I used a purple pen and thought the notes didn't look as scary in my own handwriting. And a lot of the notes were the same. Over and over again. I wrote down the very few strengths the feedback listed and put stars by those. My script had some merit. It had potential the feedback reminded me. And then I set the cards aside.

This morning my friend called me and we talked about my script for over an hour. I took four pages of legal pad notes. I scribbled and circled and wrote faster than my brain could process. And you know what? I got excited about my script again and the opportunity for a rewrite. I realized, with my friend's not so gentle reminder, that my script is well done, that my characters are interesting and that I'm actually a very good writer. She told me much of the feedback was bullshit and I wrote that in large letters on my note cards as I crossed things out.

But more than anything? She gave me these awesome notes on things I should work on. This feedback, which I was terrified of, was actually a blessing in disguise. It got me to look at my script objectively, for the first time in months, and to consider what's best for the story. It got me to remember how much I love writing and frankly, rewriting is writing.

So this week I'll take the notes I made, all of them, and get to work. I'll take the ideas sprung from those stark white pages, and the conversation my friend and I had, and I'll make this script I love so much better. And by Friday? I'll have a draft that I'm even happier with and more proud to send out with my name boldly centered on the front page.

And I'll have to remind myself over and over, a million times, that feedback is scary but it's also vital. Oh so vital.