Not throwing away my shot!

Summer has happened! Yes, I know, it's still technically summer. But our almost two months in Michigan are over. Angela has gone back to school in her new capacity of Instructional Coach (yay! promotion!). I've gone back to my desk. And I've finished another script.

Yes, finished. A draft. Not finished forever. But for now. It's a script I started over a year ago. An idea that's been bouncing around my head for a while now. And now there's a draft of it I really really like, on paper.

And it's a draft I'm going to send out into the world.

In July I found out I was one of the 50 semi-finalists in the Industry Insider Television Writing Contest. I'd entered a pilot proposal (a bunch of pages answering a bunch of questions about a story I wanted to tell) in May and was selected to submit a rough draft of my pilot this coming Monday. I've been making notes and researching this topic for a few years now. I'd come up with ideas I just didn't like as much as I should. As much as I wanted to. So when I found out about this pilot proposal contest I did something I haven't ever done before.

I'm the girl who still pulls out her notes from film school and writes her beat sheet, her outline, her note cards, just as she was taught. I use templates I've curated from all over the place. I have a specific routine. I write out how I think things should go. I use full sentences. I tell my story methodically and completely.

But this time I just wrote from my soul. I didn't pull out any of the material I'd created before. I abandoned all of the story lines (well most of them) I'd crafted. I put away the old outlines and notecards. And I just told a really entertaining story as if I was talking. I used language that might not be safe for work. I used incomplete sentences. I spiced up my punctuation. And I went to town. I had fun.

And apparently it worked. So I became a semi-finalist. And for the past three weeks I've been creating outlines and beat sheets and scenes and ultimately, this draft, of what I hope is a really cool story. I've sent it to four people I trust and they're reading for mistakes and holes and those big questions that cannot be unanswered. And this weekend I'll print a copy and go over it word by word and read it aloud with Angela and then I'll send it in on Monday. And I'll wait.

The contest will be narrowed down to 10 participants who will work with mentors and take classes and then ultimately one person will win. They'll pitch their story to a major network.

Maybe that person will be me.

Maybe it won't.

Either way? I've tried. I've done my best. I've sat in the chair. I've put in the hours. I've become these characters. I've lived this world. I've written the best that I can. And I love it. I love this story. I love how much fun I've been having with it. I love that I've wanted to get back to my desk this week when I've been away from it. I love that I've not been able to get these scenes out of my brain.

But I've also been fretting over the thought that this might not be my story to tell. That because this is not a world I have first-hand knowledge of, I maybe shouldn't try to write about it. But, as I've been listening to Lin-Manuel Miranda's Hamilton this week, and reading his book about his experience writing the musical, I've realized a few things.

Miranda didn't have first-hand experience in Alexander Hamilton's life or his world. But he wanted to tell the story.

I want to tell this story. I want to bring these characters to life. I want to write THIS.

And so I will. And so I did. And so I will keep at it.

My story is not of one of the country's founding fathers. My story is of women mafia members in Detroit. My story is not based in fact. And yet? The relationships, the conversations, the experiences, so many of them are universal. So many of them come from real life. Not mafia life. Not Detroit life. But life. And I think that's why this is my story to tell. Because this is my story to create. This is my story to curate. This is my story.

I don't know if I'll move on to the next round of the contest. I don't know if I'll ever have the chance to pitch this story to a studio or network. But in the words of Miranda, "I'm not throwing away my shot!" I'm going to keep writing. Keep telling these stories. I'm going to keep entertaining myself, and hopefully others as well.  It's the only way I know how to write. It's all I know how to do.