Time to Write

Pitching your project: do you have an energy shortage?

Top 3 Mistakes You Make When Pitching is the title of a short video by independent producer Tom Malloy, featured on the FilmmakingStuff.com website of my friend, Jason Brubaker. 

The first one he mentions is delivering the pitch with low energy.

I can relate to that one. I'm a naturally shy person anyway, and when I first started pitching to TV and film executives I was nervous as well. I know this was a problem because one producer actually told my agent that he decided not to hire me for a writing project because he thought I had "low personal energy."

Maybe that shouldn't make a difference when what they're buying is your writing skill, but in the real world it does make a difference. People generally prefer to work with somebody who doesn't seem withdrawn.

If you suffer from this, what can you do? Here are the strategies I found useful:

• Be prepared. Know your pitch well going in.
  
  
• Find your own version of energy, don't try to imitate somebody else's. At first, I was discouraged because I thought I'd have to turn into a version of Robin Williams on any talk show. Actually, there's such a thing as quiet energy that is just as effective. Remember times that you've been genuinely excited and draw from that.
  
  
• Video yourself rehearsing the pitch and watch the video. Put the camera directly in front of yourself, so you're seeing the pitch the same way the person to whom you're pitching will see it. As you play it back, give yourself constructive criticism. Let me repeat that: constructive criticism. This is not a session for the benefit of your harsh inner critic. If you can't do that, find a trusted friend who knows something about making presentations and have them give you their constructive feedback.
  
  
• Take along an index card with the key points on it. You probably won't need to refer to it, but knowing you have it will help you relax.
  
  
• Unless it makes you too jittery, have a coffee or an energy drink about 20 minutes before the pitch meeting.
  
  
• Take a moment to center yourself while you're waiting. Most of the time the executive will keep you waiting for a few minutes, that's a good time to take a deep breath. If you've developed a quick way to get yourself into a relaxed state, use it then.
  
  
• If you still feel nervous, admit it with a smile at the start, something like, (deep breath) "I'm a little nervous--I haven't done much pitching, but I hope the story will be strong enough to compensate." Most people will be sympathetic and reassure you.
  
  
• Pretend you're telling the story to a five-year-old. That's not an insult to the intelligence of producers, but we have a natural tendency to be more expressive and animated when we're telling a child a bedtime story.
  
  
• Remember to make eye contact. Nothing makes a person seem more disconnected than when they're looking down at their shoes for most of the meeting.
  
  
• Don't think you're going overboard. To an introvert, delivering a pitch at an energy level of five out of ten will feel like an eleven. The tip about making a video of yourself will help with this, too.

That's it! If you put those into action, you'll be pitching with energy--I mean, pitching WITH ENERGY!

 

 

 

 

Is this the time to (finally) be you?

There's a Zen saying, "Out of the mud grows a lotus."

As I write this, we're in the mud. The coronavirus is still spreading and millions (including me) have been instructed not to leave our homes for at least twelve weeks (eleven to go). Loved ones are dying, the future is uncertain, and some of the people in charge are cretins.

That's the mud.

What will bring out the lotus?

For some people, it's suddenly finding they have more free time (if that's not you, keep reading anyway, we'll get to you). 

How will you spend this time?

The internet is full of suggestions for how to spend your extra time, many of which strike me as time killers.

If anything, the current state of affairs is telling us we never know how much time we have, so killing more of it seems foolish.

As Shakespeare said--or warned--in Richard II, "I wasted time, and now doth time waste me."

Why not make your goal creating something only you can create?

Not because you're a genius but because you're you.

The obvious channels of expression, like books, scripts, stories, poems, drawings, paintings, sculptures, etc. are fine if they excite you.

It could just as easily be making a piece of furniture, creating an indoor garden, coming up with original recipes, or using Zoom or Skype to give solace to isolated friends or strangers.

It could be something I've never heard of and can't even imagine.

Finding it is your job.

How to find it

It's possible you've already found it, but you never followed through because you didn't have time.  Maybe you started and you meant to go on, but life and obligations interfered and you stopped. It may be represented by a half-finished novel or a piece of pottery gathering dust, or the intention to connect with friends from years ago.

If you don't know what it is, or you do and you want to recapture the magic feeling it once gave you, use some of your new free time to daydream.

Yes, this was easier when we had the option of strolling through a park or walking along a beach, but you can also do it after everybody else has gone to bed, or before they wake up.

Go to the free site, calmsound.com and listen to gentle rain, or a country garden, or the ocean. If you're inspired by seeing nature as well as hearing it, they also feature videos of the Maldives, a country glen, an enchanted forest, and an Australian beach.

Close your eyes, remember what you dreamed of doing when you were a kid, or what made you happy before you had to stop doing it because responsibilities intervened. 

You'll know it when you see it--or rather, when you feel it. It'll feel like how artist Milton Glaser felt about illustrating Dante's Purgatory: "I can't tell you how much I looked forward to working on it--it is still thrilling to me to be able to sit down in front of a piece of paper and invent the world."

How to do it

You've found it. Now what?

Is there a secret? Something they don't want you to know but that I will reveal to you if you send me lots of money?

No, nobody's trying to keep it from you and there's no charge. It's simple. Not always easy, but simple: 

1. Start
2. Continue
3. Fail (because we can imagine perfection but not attain it)
4. Learn from the failure
5. Continue
6. repeat 3 through 5

Number one is the hardest but the other steps have their drawbacks, too.

So why do it?

Because it means something to you.

Because in some way large or small, you'll be contributing something to the world that is part of you.

It could bring you world-wide fame and fortune, or you may invent something that will benefit millions--but probably not. 

Maybe it'll be a memoir you self-publish that's discovered by a curious great-grandchild years after you're gone, and suddenly a little bit of you will live again.

Maybe it'll be a window garden that someone walking by sees and is reminded that life will blossom again. 

Maybe it'll be a poem nobody ever reads, but having written it makes you feel more complete and that, in turn, makes you a less distracted or frustrated parent.

But what if you don't have more time?

Some people actually have less time these days. They may be working from home and homeschooling their kids. They may have more responsibility for their parents or grandparents. What should you do if that's you?

Exactly the same thing. 

Homeschooling your kids? What greater lesson can you teach them (by example) than to express themselves? Don't expect them to appreciate it now, of course, but the time will come.

Working from home and too busy with work? An article in the Guardian about a palliative nurse who counsels the dying revealed the top regrets her patients expressed :

I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

I wish I hadn't worked so hard. (This from every male patient she dealt with.)

I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings.

I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

I wish I had let myself be happier.

Every one of those, in one way or another, is about being yourself, expressing yourself.

You do have the time.

Cut out 30 minutes of TV or browsing the internet.

Get your kids involved in your creative activity.

Declare a lunch hour and lock yourself in a room, put in earplugs or crank up the white noise machine and do whatever you're meant to do. 

It's not too late

Whether life gives us another week, another year, another decade or more, it's not too late to take that first step.

As Oscar Wilde said (or should have, in case he didn't): "Be yourself, everyone else is already taken."

I hope that when you look back on these dark days you'll remember it was also the time you decided or renewed your decision to be--and share--yourself.

A better way to decide what to commit to

Do you ever agree to do something or go somewhere in the future, only to find that when the time arrives to do it you wish you hadn’t?

Yeah, me, too, but the other day I found a good tip for a better way to decide yes or no in that situation:

Pretend that it’s happening tomorrow. Would you still say yes?

When we look toward some future date, it’s easy to assume on that day we’ll have more time, or that it will be a good time to attend a lecture on some topic in which we have a vague interest.

Pretending it’s tomorrow puts us more in touch with reality—if that lecture isn’t compelling enough to attend tomorrow, the odds are it won’t be compelling enough three weeks from now.

How Albert Einstein can help you rewrite your book or screenplay

Do you get stuck when you set out to do another draft of a screenplay, novel, or other creative project?

Albert Einstein allegedly said, "We cannot solve our problems with the same level of thinking that created them."

He wasn't talking about writing, but I think it applies.

When we write fiction, we're in a kind of dreaming state. We imagine what might happen and what people might say. It's a highly intuitive state, unless we are slavishly following a formula or template (not recommended if you want your work to be original).

If we stay in that state when we try to figure out how our first draft could be improved, often we'll either draw a blank or come up with something that makes the work different, but not necessarily better. 

The trick (thanks, Mr Einstein) is to move to a different level. In this case, the critical level.

The creative level vs. the critical level

The writing process is subjective, the critical level is analytical.

When you write, you're on the inside, in the moment with your characters. When you critique, you're looking at them from the outside and you can take a step back to assess the big picture.

How to switch levels

One way to change your mental state is to change your physical state first. 

• To snap out of the creative state, do a bit of movement--a brief brisk walk or a few stretches
  
  
• Move to a different location, even if just across the room from where you write
  
  
• Change your body position. Instead of sitting upright in a chair, lean back in an easy chair

Another strategy is to make the material seem less familiar, more like it's something someone else wrote since it's always easier for us to be objective about someone else's work.

• Print the script rather than viewing it on a screen
  
  
• Print it on different color paper
  
  
• Print it using a different font from the one on the screen
  

Remember you're a critic now, not a creator.

• Just like a professional critic would do, start by considering the totality of the work and identify any big problems. Read through the entire script and consider whether it has any major issues that will impact multiple scenes. Jot down your conclusions. For instance, a review I read recently said that the film couldn't decide whether it wanted to be a comedy, a satire, or a drama with amusing moments.
  
  
• Next, go through the script scene by scene and note weak points, inconsistencies, or other issues. For instance, when I go back to the first scene in a screenplay I ask myself whether it immediately creates a question in the minds of the reader (and, later, the audience). If they're curious, they'll want to continue reading or watching. 
  
  
• Don't try to solve these problems. A critic's role is to point out the good and bad points of a work, not to fix it. If a solution occurs to you, go ahead and note it but do not make any changes in the script--doing so will flip you out of the critical state.

Time to go back to the creator's state

When you've finished making your critical notes, go back to your usual work station and get back into the creative state. You'll have a list of things to fix but not how to fix them.

For instance, maybe one note is that the opening scene, an argument between the protagonist and his father at the dad's apartment, is too talky and doesn't make a visual impression. Now you can imagine how it would play out if, for example, it took place in public, or if the father showed his anger physically. Because you'll be tuned back into the characters, you'll think of options that are what they would actually do, not an arbitrary solution.

Keep shuttling back and forth

You don't have to wait to make all the changes before you go back into the critical state. You can take a printout of an individual scene to your critic's easy chair and assess whether the problem has been solved. This back-and-forth continues until you've made it the best you can.

Warning: don't do this just in your head!

Resist the temptation to think that it's just as easy to make the mental switch without the other changes I've suggested above. Yes, some people can do it, especially after years of practice, but it's difficult and often trying to create and judge at the same time leads to writer's block.

 

A mantra for when you're depressed (or even when you're not)

I'm always on the lookout for tips that can help those of us who suffer from clinical depression--or just bouts of lack of motivation.

One I was reminded of recently is the mantra, "Just do one thing."

In better times, the one thing might be writing a few pages, or researching a story, or contacting an agent. 

In harder times, it can be as simple as getting out of bed.

Focusing on a small chunk of what needs to be done usually creates momentum. Even when it doesn't, at least that one thing will have been done. 

If it may be helpful to you, keep "Do just one thing" in mind. Even better, jot it on a note that's visible by your desk or by your bed. 

If it's not you but someone in your life you care about who has this issue, help them to identify one thing and praise them for doing it rather than focusing on all the things they're not doing.

Most likely, they're doing their best.

 

Which is better--revenge or forgiveness?

If you're writing a screenplay or novel, you may want to opt for revenge.

According to Science Daily, "When it comes to entertainment, people enjoy seeing bad guys get their punishment more than seeing them be forgiven, a new study reveals.

But even though they don't enjoy the forgiveness stories as much, people do find these narratives more meaningful and thought-provoking than ones in which the bad guys receive their just deserts.

"We like stories in which the wrongdoers are punished and when they get more punishment than they deserve, we find it fun," said Matthew Grizzard, lead author of the study and assistant professor of communication at The Ohio State University."

Maybe the best bet are stories in which your wronged protagonists exact revenge...and then forgive themselves.

 

How to Give Yourself a Procrastination Allowance

Once we start to procrastinate, we tend to keep procrastinating.

A common refrain is, "I don't have much time left today to work on that task, so I'll make a fresh start tomorrow."

Of course, tomorrow we may find ourselves saying the same thing, and on and on.

Instead, try giving yourself a procrastination allowance: a certain amount of time you will avoid doing that task, after which you will make a start.

For instance, if you plan to work on writing a report between nine and eleven AM, give yourself a procrastination allowance of fifteen minutes per hour. Use it for anything you want--looking at Youtube videos, checking the news, or staring into space.

You would start the first hour by procrastinating between nine and nine-fifteen. Set a timer to go off when the 15 minutes are up, then get to work.

At 10 you get another 15 minutes to goof off or do a more pleasant task. Again, use the timer so you won't spend more than your allowed time.

Idealists may say, "Wait a minute--that means I'm wasting 30 minutes every two hours!" That's true. But isn't that better than wasting the whole two hours?

Three Dark Writing Moments More Common Than You Thought

Most writers would agree that while writing can be a great joy, it also carries its share of dark moments. When we're in the middle of one, it's easy to assume that we're alone feeling that way. Members of a panel of screenwriters discussed some of the darker moments they've experienced:

Noah Baumbach (writer/director, "Marriage Story") said for him it's starting each new project feeling overwhelmed and like he's forgotten how to write.

Rian Johnson (writer/director, "Knives Out") said it's the moment on every project when the initial excitement for the idea wears off.

Taiki Waititi
(writer/director "Jojo Rabbit") said it was when he was pitching "Jojo Rabbit" and nobody understood the tone he was going for.

Hmm, dark moments when you're starting to write, in the middle, and when you're done and trying to sell the script. One for each phase of the process!

So what's the solution?

I don't think it's trying to fight these feelings.

It's accepting that they are normal.

That it's not just us. 

That they'll pass.

...if we just keep putting down the words. 

 

Don't give up on your dumb idea

Dana Terrace had an idea for an animated magical comedy-horror TV series. She told the LA Times, "I was working with someone at that time who kept discouraging me from working on it."

Her colleague called it a dumb idea.

Named "The Owl House," it has already been renewed by Disney for a second series before the first one has even aired.

Terrace says one of the things that motivated her was proving that former colleague wrong. It wasn't the first time she was out of step. She says, "When I was a kid, and I think a lot of kids feel like this--especially if you're artsy or creative or have any kind of offbeat hobby--you feel a little left out."

I'd add that this still is true for a lot of adults.

However, often it's the oddballs who come up with breakthrough ideas. You know, the kind that are called dumb before they catch on.

Naturally, sometimes a "dumb idea" actually is dumb, but if you believe in yours, stick with it--as Dana Terrace has proved, it can pay off.

          "The Owl House" (Disney Channel)

What you CAN'T learn from others

The internet is full of tips on how to learn from [name of successful person]. The implication is that if you just do things their way, you'll have their success.

Usually, these tips are too general to be useful. Things like, "Be an original thinker, like Steve Jobs."

Sometimes they carry an unintentional irony: "If you want to be original, copy Picasso." Hmm.

Sometimes the tips are too specific. It may be that super-successful people X, Y, and Z get up at 5am and carry around a notebook, but it's far from clear that these are the reasons for their success. What if it's the fact that they all eat lasagna and do yoga?

As writer Dale Dauten points out, "People try to conform to success, but to be successful is to be a non-conformist." Even that is flawed advice if it leads somebody to think that being a non-conformist is, by itself, a formula for success. There are plenty of non-conformists sleeping in doorways.

For a while, Writing Magazine ran a series of articles on the theme of "How to Write Like Anton Chekhov" (or other great writers). I'm not saying you can't learn by studying Chekhov, who indeed is a wonderful writer, but writing like him has one requirement none of us can fulfill: being Anton Chekhov. As I mentioned in the previous post, imagining how he might solve a writing problem can lead you to a solution, but it won't actually be his, it'll be yours.

The moral, I think, is to write or draw, or paint, or whatever you do, your way. There's no guarantee it'll pay off, but at least you'll enjoy yourself.

 

 

 

The Power of Deadlines

Sometimes when I'm supposed to be doing something, I find I'm drawn to doing something else--usually something easier and less important. Entrepreneur and writer Peter Gasca discussed a similar problem in an interview on Inc.com:

"I am mostly too organized, bordering on O.C.D., and have a mild case of Adult Attention Deficit Disorder (self-diagnosed). This often gets me trapped in endless loops of being productive and getting meaningless things done. I have found this causes creativity paralysis, which is the inability to start a creative endeavor for fear of not being able to complete it.

I have mostly overcome this by engaging in projects that have deadlines, or giving myself deadlines, which forces me to start and complete a task, even if at the last minute."

He has a way of looking at deadlines that I like:

"I have come to understand that by having deadlines, artificial or real, my mind turns off the ‘input’ process and switches to ‘output,’ which forces me to be deliberate about a task in front of me."

That speaks to the danger of continuing to research the topic or to watch lots of videos and read lots of articles because, who knows, maybe there'll be something useful in them. Those are all 'input.' With a deadline, it's easier to be aware of when to throw that switch to 'output.'

(You may also be interested in the productivity techniques in my book, Focus: Use the Power of Targeted Thinking to Get More Done. It's published by Nicholas Brealey and available from Amazon or your other favorite bookseller.)

 

I'm an info addict. Are you?

Science proved what we probably suspected all along: you can get addicted to information in the same way you can get addicted to junk food.

ScienceDaily reports: 

"A new study by researchers at UC Berkeley's Haas School of Business has found that information acts on the brain's dopamine-producing reward system in the same way as money or food.

'To the brain, information is its own reward, above and beyond whether it's useful,' said Assoc. Prof. Ming Hsu, 'And just as our brains like empty calories from junk food, they can overvalue information that makes us feel good but may not be useful -- what some may call idle curiosity.'

''The way our brains respond to the anticipation of a pleasurable reward is an important reason why people are susceptible to clickbait,' he said. 'Just like junk food, this might be a situation where previously adaptive mechanisms get exploited now that we have unprecedented access to novel curiosities.'

I've read articles about people going on a digital diet and recently I was forced to go on a digital semi-diet for a couple of weeks. The place I was staying didn't have wi-fi, you had to go to a clubhouse to access the internet. It wasn't a far walk, but a lot more effort than picking up a close-at-hand iPhone or iPad. 

Now it made more sense to actually finish the task I was doing before going to the clubhouse to check email and headlines.

I didn't have withdrawal symptoms, but I did notice one big effect: I got more writing done.

Lots more. 

When I was able to get back on the internet there was a definite "Ahhh!" once I was able to snack on all the unimportant information featured on my favorite sites.

Yep, it's time for me to consider one of those apps that lets you shut down your access to the internet for a length of time you set. 

What about you?

 

 

 

The Writing Payoff You May Not Be Expecting

We tend to think the payoff for writing a book is getting it into the hands of readers, and the payoff for writing screenplays is seeing your work on a screen, small or large. That's not wrong, especially if you're hoping for a financial payoff. 

But novelist Anne Lamott has another angle to consider, one that I feel more connected to these days:

“I just try to warn people who hope to get published that publication is not all that it is cracked up to be. But writing is. Writing has so much to give, so much to teach, so many surprises. That thing you had to force yourself to do — the actual act of writing — turns out to be the best part.” 

I know exactly the reaction I would have had to this quote before I had anything published or produced: "Easy for you to say, Anne Lamott! You've had books published and you're famous(ish)! Don't worry, I'll deal with the disappointments if they happen, just let somebody produce one of my scripts--or at least buy one!"

I'm not suggesting that you should lose any of that drive or ambition--it's necessary for a writing career. I only want to say there's more than that, and the joy of writing can get lost if you're putting all of your focus on worrying about what happens to it afterward.

The reason I feel more connected to the rewards of writing for its own sake is that over the course of a difficult 18 months, health-wise (much better, now, thanks), I still had the drive to write, even if only short films and scenes that I wrote without thinking about whether they would ever be submitted anywhere, much less produced or published.

Now I'm getting back to writing scripts for which I have commercial ambitions, but with a greater appreciation of what a friendly, healing presence writing can be.

 

 

 

Writers (and others): Watch your language!

On your road to success as a screenwriter, you’re going to have to convince a lot of people that what you’re doing is worthwhile. The same is true for almost any other profession.

If you're a screenwriter, how you speak to agents, financiers, actors, studio or network people and even how you speak to yourself can make a big difference to the results you get.

Nick Kemp is a Neuro Linguistic Programming trainer who has worked in schools to help students and teachers be more effective.  In an article published in the magazine ReSource he reveals a simple change in language that creates positive effects.

He noticed that in interviews with staff, many of them used phrases like "I’ll try to..."  or "We'll aim to..." or "Hopefully..." or "All being well..." 

All of these imply that failure is possible (perhaps even that it's likely). When he had them switch to definite statements like "I will..."  it changed their thinking and their whole state in the classroom. 

Listen to how you speak about things you are about to undertake, especially when dealing with agents, producers, actors, directors—anybody who may hire you to write a script or with whom you might collaborate. Do you use qualifiers that suggest you may not/will not succeed?

If you find it difficult to be aware of this as it goes on, try tape recording yourself for a few hours. 

You might want to extend this to how you respond to questions like, "How are you?" or "How's it going?" Do you say (as I'm guilty of doing), "Not too bad"?

It would be better to reply, "Going well," or "Fine, thanks" --at least to those people who aren't actually interested in a factual account of our challenges (which is most people).  

Switch to definite statements that presuppose success, and notice the difference in how you feel, how you carry out your work, and the level of interest you get from others.

 

Screenwriters (and others): Reject Rejection!

Getting rejected is a normal part of every screenwriter's life but it can make it difficult to stay motivated. 

Fortunately, cognitive therapy offers a lot of useful tools for making sure we don't let rejection affect us negatively.

Here are three distortions that are very common among writers when their work is rejected or they have other setbacks. As you read them, ask yourself whether any of these reflect your thinking.

Overgeneralization: the tendency to think that one event represents a pattern.

Example: Your screenplay is rejected, and you think, “This script is never going to sell!” Or you read an article about how a producer ripped off a writer, and you assume, “All these producers are out to cheat writers.”

Disqualifying the positive: the tendency to ignore or discount positive developments.

Example: You get a rejection but it includes an encouraging comment on it, and you think, “Who cares about positive comments, it still didn't sell.”

Or someone wants to produce a script for a short film you’ve written, and you think, “Yeah, but it isn’t for a feature script, so it doesn’t really count.”

Mind reading: the tendency to assume you know what someone else is thinking or their motivation.

Example: A producer says your script isn’t right for them, and you conclude, “They obviously think my writing isn’t good enough.”

The reality may be that it’s well-written but too close to something else they have in the works, or not in a genre they’re interested in at the moment.

Or you submit a query letter and don’t get an answer, and assume, “They must have hated that idea, probably it’s no good."

Unfortunately, not answering is the new “no” but that doesn’t mean they hated it, just that it wasn’t right for them at this point.

The solutions

By the way, you may have noticed that these are mistakes we make about rejection of all kinds, so knowing how to deal with it can come in handy in many contexts. Here's how to do it:

Notice it's happening.

It's hard to think clearly when you're upset, so start by sitting down, taking a deep breath and noticing what you're saying to yourself in response to the rejection.

Write down those thoughts. Then use the following methods to challenge the statements you've written down.

Overcoming overgeneralizations

If you’re thinking something “always” happens—does it, really?

Can you think of times when it didn't happen?

If you can't (because your thinking is clouded) ask someone close to you whether they can think of counter-examples.

It's unlikely, but what if it DOES always happen--every time? Then think about what you could do differently in order to get a different outcome.

If you tend to be so excited about what you've written that you send it out immediately to agents or producers and they consistently reject it, try holding back. Put it aside for a while. Get outside feedback. Rewrite as necessary. Repeat. Only when you're sure it's as good as you can make it, send it out.

Another example: If people never respond well to your spoken pitches, get some feedback on whether you're doing your ideas justice with how you present them. If necessary, get some coaching in public speaking or storytelling.

How to avoid disqualifying the positive

If you’re discounting something, ask what is genuinely positive about it.

Again, you may need to get someone who is more objective to help you with this.

An encouraging comment is a good sign that you're on the right track, even if it came jotted on a rejection slip.

Getting a short film made is great--many short films have attracted attention for their writers or even have become the basis of feature films.

If you absolutely can't think of anything positive, commit to withholding judgment. The positive element may become clear in time.

I'll give you a personal example: when my house burned to the ground years ago, I had a hard time finding the silver lining. Especially because not long afterward I found myself hospitalized with a blood clot. But those two events led me to re-evaluate what I wanted from life. I decided to move from Los Angeles to London, and I'm happier here than I was there.

Without a major wake-up call and not having to worry about all my possessions (since they all burned up), I don't know whether I would have made that move.

How to stop mind-misreading

If you’re mind-reading, come up with at least three other things the other person might be thinking. That's still mind-reading, but it opens you up to the fact that we can't know what's on another person's mind.

NLP guru Richard Bandler once said he likes to practice pronoia: the idea that the universe is conspiring to make him happy. Even if you don't go that far, I'm sure you can think of times when you assumed someone was thinking something and it turned out that wasn't it at all.

But even if someone did think, for example, that your script stinks, so what? That's one person's opinion. Almost every script or book that was accepted first had a bunch of rejections.

The bottom line

If you remind yourself that rejection is part of the process and not a catastrophe you'll find it much easier to move on.