The star Sirius is rising and setting with the sun, and the planet's at a deep-fry tilt. But you knew that, right?
Riiiiight. Dog Days. Dude, when that dog star gets into this particular whacked conjunction, you might as well... hug a fan, take three showers a day, go into the movie theater early just for the extra AC time... and forget about doing just about anything else.
Once August gets underway, most of Europe hangs up a "gone fishing" sign and a good deal of America does the same. And anybody who's in The Business understands that to try and get something done (i.e. anything career-furthering) is just silly.
At least, that's the perceived wisdom. But just to be persnickety (there's nothing like record heat and the prospect of nothing doing to make a curmudgeon like myself be obstreperously persnickety) I'll note that there are some gigs that do not follow the standard calendar. Creative types in general aren't known for confining themselves to the trajectory of the big hand and the small, and if there is one job that truly transcends the usual mundane strictures of time and space, it belongs to... oh, you're way ahead of me, I know...
Freakin' writers.
Not exactly 9 to 5, is it? Or within the school-day sphere, with holidays, or -- do writers even take vacations? I think that's what we supposedly do when we're seriously unemployed, but face it, scribes: isn't every vacation really just an excuse to gather new material while ye may?
It's conceivable, especially this summer, that the Dog Days will find even an industrious writer floored, in a pool of sweat, incapable of even picking up the remote control, let alone a pen. But for the genuinely dedicated among us (read: compulsive, neurotic, unhinged, etc.), this dead highway stretch of August can suggest not inertia, but a pro-active opportunity.
Oh, shoot me now, you may say (or perhaps you'd like to turn the barrel in my direction), but I say: here are three things a writer could do with this inglorious four weeks of what's commonly thought of as a big fat nada.
The first will sound completely counter-intuitive.
1) Take a meeting.
Am I nuts? What am I saying? Well, put the gun down, cowboy, as I first lasso a prevalent myth and bring it to ground. The myth says that everyone in the business leaves town in August and no deals get made. While that's true in a general sense, I ask you this: when is everybody in town?
This funny/sad, all too true and thus fairly brilliant article from the L.A. Weekly, written by Nikki Finke, entitled Slacker Town: Why Hollywood Gets No Work Done, should be required reading for anyone who wants to (translation: has to) work here. It lays out the real working schedule of The Biz, from the time off round the Fourth of July to the "real" August vacation, to the brief back-to-the-office moment that precedes the Jewish Holidays, quickly segueing into Turkey Time, the Christmas-New Years marathon and the -- oh, hold those calls we're off to Sundance moment in January.
Read it and do the math, and you'll see that the actual total of real human beings sitting behind desks and working days in Hollywood each year comes out to something like six weeks.
Okay, so now that we're clear on that, here's what I heard from a working writer in town. He's got a movie coming out and wanted to look into the possibility of a sequel, should the Cinegods so bless him with success. Know what he found out when he tried to round up his usual suspects to have a meeting?
Easy. Because many people who are in town, who haven't yet hit the Hamptons, etc., are showing up in their suites every day with nothing to do. My writer friend not only got his meeting, it was lengthy. The execs didn't want it to end!
So, crazy as it may sound, August could be the time to follow up on that agent who said he'd like to hear a pitch, the studio exec who's been sitting on a dormant project, the producer who was looking for a cheap genre programmer. You might just find yourself in the company of someone with time on their hands, in a relatively relaxed state of mind, no less.
It's worth a shot. In the Dog Days, you could luck into a meeting with someone who'll actually listen to you -- precisely because they're relieved of the usual call list and pressure-cooker stress of the actual few weeks a year when they're working like a dog.
2) Find out what your story's about.
I've often commented on the rash of Draftitis that afflicts many screenwriters -- a disease that causes them, ostrich-like, to stick their heads into the thicket of a draft-in-progress and rarely lift it up to get a larger perspective on their work. All too often, writers are so obsessed with getting their draft "done" that they don't take the time to really understand what, in fact, they're doing.
Here's my radical suggestion for writers who are in the midst of writing things this summer: put the draft down.
That's right, miss -- step away from the computer keyboard, move back from that desk -- I need for you to leave the pages over there, please. Can you do that for me? Thank you. Now... Instead of micro-managing the inner workings of the plot point on p.57 (why is p.57 always such a bitch? because you need to get to the other side), instead of reworking that line of dialogue into fine-tuned paper shreddings... leave it all alone, and... think about it.
But-but-but --ssssh! What the Dog Days can be good for is a good walk. A nice swim, a ride on your bike -- anyplace away from the draft on the desk, so that your subconscious has a chance to breathe and so that your -- I dunno, call it Larger Mind, or perhaps Fred -- that ineffable Other You in you can process the work, and maybe tell you something you need to know about it.
Some believe that any story worth telling can be boiled down to one basic conflict between two protagonists; many believe that any story asks one essential question that gets answered in its telling. I believe that all too often what trips us up in the writing process is that we get lost in the wilderness of story detail... when what we need to be doing is defining the basic what of what it's all about.
Can you do that yet? What's your story's essential conflict between two primary characters? What's the one core question it's asking? Can you articulate the story's most vital and specific subject?
If you can't, you may be merely tap-dancing in the dark, no matter how high your page count. So my thought is, take advantage of this August down-time to take a mini-vacation from the draft itself and do what's ultimately an even more important job. You can do it anywhere, anytime, but if you put these kind of "what is the story I'm writing?" questions in the foreground of your writing thought (as opposed to where the comma goes in one line of narrative), what you learn can be invaluable.
And speaking of getting out of the house, in your Dog Days, you might also want to forget about writing altogether.
3) Live a little.
Finally, what every writer needs to do, once in awhile, is to have a life. You know, that thing you do when you're not actually in front of the journal or keyboard?
It's a wild and wacky notion, but here and there you might want to actually join the human race at large and get away from it all. This August, consider using some Dog Days as an opportunity to have a new experience. Take that swing-dance class, learn how to surf -- mow a lawn, for chrissake, but whatever it may be, maybe try for once to leave the brain at home.
Get physical, get loose, get lost -- have a good time, odd an idea as that may seem. Find out what they mean when they say, Every dog must have its day.
'Cause otherwise, after the summer has finally simmered down to a less pant and whine-ful heat, damn, dog -- what are you going to have lived through to write about?
Thanks for dispelling some myths, Billy.
I heard about Disney "firing" a bunch of people. How are things at the studios these days? Are things stable enough to warrant optimism of getting your project in the hands of someone looking for new scripts?
Wish I could take you up on your advice and "live a little," but I live the typical, undiscovered writter conudrum: day job, and the writing 2nd job. And for the past two months job #2 (writing) has been a grind. Tough 1st draft, hashing plot choises, BUT I just turned the page and got through it, and now thing starting to ease up a little, and I'm on the second phase of simaltaneous creation.
The writing life is so wierd. I mean you're always trying, but sometimes it's like your wading though a giant pool of honey.
So... a la (the brilliant) Lynda Obst, August or not I'm gonna "ride the horse in the direction its going."
Still a hot dog sounds nice. Think I'll have mine while bang away on the keyboard -- mustard and relish, please!
- E.C. Henry from Bonney Lake, WA
Posted by: E.C. Henry | August 03, 2006 at 05:42 AM
Good advice Billy. Stepping back from the draft, enjoying the forest instead of counting (and killing) the trees. Hard to do though. So that's a good idea--do it when it's just too darn hot.
Posted by: Melanie | August 03, 2006 at 06:07 AM
Great minds think alike... I'm going white water rafting wtih some friends on Saturday... an activity with plenty of water to cool me from the heat and I gotta concentrate on staying in the boat, so there's no think about plot points...
Great pictures of the dogs... my dog is now beggin for her own kiddie pool. I don't blame her, the weatherman says the heat index was at 105 yesterday.... and today we can expect the same.
River, here I come!
Posted by: Writergurl | August 03, 2006 at 08:11 AM
"obstreperously persnickety" -- !!! -- August is almost decided for me now -- either get this tattooed on my back (although my back may not be big enough for the 8" high gothic letters obstreperously clearly calls out for) OR to finally take that chain saw ice sculpture class to commemorate the cranky beauty of these two words together (until, you know, they melt).
Posted by: jen | August 03, 2006 at 08:20 AM
I lived by the sea for 7 years. The other day I went in. Great. Life is about balance after all.
Posted by: Tim Clague | August 03, 2006 at 01:26 PM
Puppies!!!
Posted by: Brooke | August 03, 2006 at 02:18 PM
E.C. "Wading through a giant pool of honey" -- I get that -- tho at least it's not merely glue (or worse)...
Melanie: Glad it made sense to you, especially when we're all being struck senseless...
Writergirl: River, look out!!!
Jen: Thought that phrase might be up your alley...
Welcome, Tim: Absolutely -- and yet, so hard to keep...
Brooke: Gets 'em every time.
Posted by: mernitman | August 03, 2006 at 02:55 PM
Very cute dog pics! And some sound advice too, as ever. Thanks Billy, for permission to go to the beach! Hope you're not suffering too much from the heat.
Posted by: Sal | August 04, 2006 at 12:18 PM
Being essentially lazy, I'm all for the idea of putting the draft down.
Seriously, I'm convinced that any kind of writing requires getting up and getting away from it. The best ideas and the best resolutions to problems tend to come when you're not trying.
I've found that for me, one of the best ways to get ideas is to go get groceries. As I'm moving up and down aisles eying what's there my mind is usually off wandering and ... bingo. "Of course! It's obvious!"
Then I can't get out and back to they keyboard fast enough.
Posted by: Bill | August 06, 2006 at 10:54 AM
Well, that last sentence of mine was certainly a well-crafted one.
Posted by: Bill | August 06, 2006 at 10:56 AM
Sal, it's definitely cooler at the beach. What are you wearing?
Bill: I find the cereal aisle particularly inspiring.
Posted by: mernitman | August 06, 2006 at 11:52 PM