It was fast. It was dirty. And it is nothing like what professional, or those seeking to break into the industry, go through to perfect their pilots and scripts for submission. Much like writing a novel, it doesn’t happen in a couple weeks. There are revisions. Edits. Re-writes and you haven’t even gotten to the pitch, the query, or design work. To expect a sell-worthy pilot script in only a few weeks is, frankly, crazy. And impossible.
I do have a working draft that I am proud of, even if I know there is so much more I’d like to add, play with, and explore.
It was intense, writing scenes, brief scenes as the idea was to keep each act of the pilot episode within 11 pages for a simple 30 minute pilot. While I’d never wish to script a 30 minute show (I prefer hour formats even as a viewer), it does teach you a lot about editing, and getting down to the important moments in storytelling. There is no waxing poetic when you have 11 pages. There is no lingering to ink out all the emotions possible. There is no showing off. It’s dirty, and it’s in your face. It is a lesson I hope to translate into novel format.
Now… what to do with this little creation? I don’t know. I certainly don’t expect to try and put it out there as a pilot to sell. It’s an interesting story, sure, one that is at the heart of my geeky love, but even I don’t see it as a good episodic show. Or even a film. So perhaps I’ll end up posting it. Perhaps I’ll end up adapting it into a traditional novel. It’ll live on somehow, I know that, and will certainly be one of the more interesting learning experiences.
So, in short, while I will be returning to working on my novels (I really ought to get going on those again), but I’ll say this: every writer should work in a different medium. If you write scripts, while in the traditional format. If you write poetry, try script writing. If you write novels, try poetry. Do something else, even if you know you’ll never do it again. You’ll be surprised how it will inform your work.