-Am using this blog as a pre-production diary for now. Look here to stay updated as the series begins the journey to reality.-
1/11/10
Here I sit, nervous as shit.
Sorry for the vulgarity (you'll find almost none of that in the series, new for me), but this is the first time that I've really experienced any sort of anxiety while waiting to hear people's reactions to something I've written. You see, I just finished writing approx. 175 pages (divided into 17 parts) of a web series that, until late last night, was fully known only to me. It's out there now to a select group of readers. I feel like I just sent my kid off to their first day of school, waiting to see if the other kids accept her or not (and let me tell you, I don't look forward to when THAT day actually comes around).
And so I sit.
Let me back up.
It's June, 2009. I'm driving back from a visit at my parents and in-laws. My daughter is asleep in the back seat and my wife drifts in and out as well (it's quite the boring drive). It's also raining pretty hard and while I should be really paying attention to the road, I'm instead pre-occupied with an idea that started growing in my head.
I'm 30 years old. I'm married and have a beautiful daughter. I have a great job that I look forward to going to every morning.
And yet...
Creatively, I feel like I haven't gotten there. Haven't achieved what I set out to do when I was younger. Haven't... arrived? I dunno how exactly to put it (a wonderful thing for a writer to say, I know).
I've made several well-received short films. I've even made a feature that, while painful to watch now, I was very proud of at the time (don't get me wrong, I'm still proud of it...but if I had the chance to make it NOW, boy, watch out...).
I've also been thinking about exposure. How one obtains it these days. And from that, where I want to be, what I really want to be doing. What do I want to be doing? Easy: writing and directing for a living. How does one go about this? First step is representation. How does one get that? Exposure. To the right kind of people.
One thing became crystal clear: living in North Dakota wasn't gonna do it.
I've become tired of film festivals. It's great to screen your film for an audience, no doubt. And it does the ego good to see an audience react well to your film. But what are you really getting out of it? Do the people that really matter, the ones that can help you make a career, see these films? Certainly not the festivals around here. And with the proliferation of large budget "indie" films clogging the bigger film festivals, the chances of a no-budget short from ND getting screened is about as good as winning the lottery.
Which brought my mind to the internet. Specifically, the stories of people getting noticed from videos they had created and posted to Youtube. Sure, I could post my shorts up there, but it takes tremendous word of mouth to garner the views needed to appear as even a miniscule blip on the pop culture radar (and even then only for a brief second). Again, the lottery analog, while tired, is appropriate.
But what about a web series? A continuing story that would keep interest over a period of time and be able to build word of mouth? I'd been watching some online (namely The Guild...yep, geek at heart here). I was impressed at how they were able to put together such a polished production with so little time, budget, and resources. I then started looking around the web some more, trying to find other web series out there. And then I got struck with the bug that got me into writing plays and shorts in the first place, that infectious idea that only a healthy (or overly large) ego could support:
I could do this. I might even be able to do this better.
And so, with ego fully in charge, I began thinking about what kind of series I would create. I'm not a comedy man. Never have been, never will be. My mind tends to drift toward darker material. I started thinking about the kinds of plays that I wrote when I was younger (with my writing partner Craig Petersen). They were murder mysteries. And then I realized something: I had never written a murder mystery screenplay. My favorite genre was the one I kept ignoring whenever I thought of my next story idea.
That could work. It has an inherent hook (who did it?) that would keep people coming back for more and I could explore the dark material that I enjoy creating. Win-win all around.
And with that, I started creating the story for Curtain Call (title was to come much later). I knew two things right from the start: the ending solution, and the beginning situation (an actress is murdered on-stage during a live performance). I needed more, though. A framework to hang this mystery on. Two detectives of opposite mind sets came to mind. And from that the format came to me: there would be the set-up episode, followed by an interrogation of every suspect, one per episode, and concluding with two wrap-up episodes where the detectives argue their theories and the final solution is revealed (oh...it all seemed so simple back then...).
SO... back to the drive. My wife is awake now. I wanted to take my chance, try my pitch out. My wife is a great evaluator of my ideas and she almost always picks up on problems that I never see (I love her for that...she might not believe that due to my reactions, but I really do. It keeps me honest). So, I clear my throat and start telling her my idea for a murder mystery web series.
I don't think she knew just how much power she had at that moment. Because if she had not been interested in it, or thought it a foolish venture, or had really any problems with the idea, I would have squashed it then and there. No regret. It had been something fun to think about on a long, rainy drive.
Am glad she liked it.
So, here we are. Roughly 6 months later. 55 episode drafts. 17 parts. 175 pages. Immense amounts of time spent writing.
I await the readers feedback, but, as stated above, I do so with a nice heaping does of anxiety. This is no longer a lark of an idea on a rainy drive home. This has grown into a large project, my biggest yet. Finally, others will know what I've been carrying around in my head for so long.
I hope it was worth it.