10,000 Hours: Why writing a shitty scene everyday is better than writing an OK scene every week.

During one very poignant lecture in screenwriting class, the teacher decided to break down how to become a successful writer. It takes 10,000 hours of practice to master a task. Whether it's cooking, the cello, or even writing, putting in that many hours and that much dedication helps to further your knowledge of any task you wish to master.

After hearing this number, I began to calculate exactly how long would it take for me to achieve the Master Ninja status. If I decided to take speed everyday, gave up sleeping, eating, pissing, and shitting, and dedicated every single second of the 24 hours in a day, it would take a little over a year to clock in 10,000 hours. I love sleeping, and my low tolerance for recreational drugs would kill me instead of keep me awake (Advil is strong enough to make me see unicorns), so the whole, up 24 hours thing wouldn't work. If I dedicated 8 hours a day to the 10,000 hours, it would take about 3 and a half years to reach 10,000. My full time job is to be a student, which I might be failing at, but none the less, I don't have 8 hours in a day to allot to writing. After I graduate I plan on the whole writing working day, but as of now, I have to settle for 1 hour a day. Which by my calculations means I will be hitting the 10,000 mark in about 27 years. 

Yes, hours each day may fluctuate, 3 hours here, 1 hour there, 13 hours that one day, but the bottom line in order to achieve this Master status, you need to write EVERY SINGLE DAY. A bit of advice that I struggle with at times, but have gotten the hang of recently. Making sure to write every single day will ultimately help you down the road. You'll be able to write faster, better, and longer. Even if it's a shitty scene every single day, some where down the line you'll be able to grab that one piece of genius from the 100 pieces of shit.

In order to keep on track I've decided to employ a progress chart made popular by the legend, the master, the guru of the world, Jerry Seinfeld. Seinfeld has talked about his "Don't Break the Chain" method. You print out an entire year calendar on a single sheet of paper, or just list 1 to 365. The idea is that each day you accomplish say, writing for an hour, you get to make a cross on the date. By a week or two, you have the makings of a chain. You're compelled not to break this sweet little chain of encouragement so you continue writing for an hour each day. This method doesn't just pertain to writing, but it could be anything in your life that you wish to be active about each and everyday.

The more you write, the better you'll get. Or at least that's what they say. Don't break the chain man. Don't you break that chain. 

The Film School Lecture: Talent vs. Marketability

This goes along the lines of a post I did a couple weeks ago, based on a lecture that I heard in screenwriting class about how many new scripts are sold each year.

The film industry is a tricky beast to conquer. It praises for unique ideas, yet scolds because of failure to conform. The idea that you need to fit into this mold is not one that is a new concept. The idea of how marketable a person is, many times overcomes their genuine talent as an actor, writer, etc.

This sadly leaves many of the immensely talented people left on the way side due to their lack of popularity. Big names sell tickets.

Case in point the barrage of teen queens who could take a few (or many) pointers from an actual acting class, that are getting leading lady roles merely based on their status and name.

I'm not trying to ride some high horse here. I too have been sucked into the perils of the newest Twilight movie, but sadly, looking at this career wise rather than audience wise, it's a bleak realization.

I watch trailers for new movies coming out and I think "Who in the hell approved this to be made? Oh. My. Jesus."

I sadly can't seem to find the disconnect. Why is a name much more important than talent? That my friends is a tough question to answer. Amazing actors and actresses are looked over just because they want to sell tickets.

Audiences will watch movies if they are good. True, they will watch bad movies too if they can see some abs, tits, and ass. The idea of the smart audience who can tell what a good story is has been eliminated from the equation of making a movie. The shiny name instead has replaced the talent.

Ugh. I digress. Ramble ramble ramble. Although I've come to this sad realization I still strive to make in the industry. But rather than just break in, I'd actually like to change the industry and make the head honchos realize that just like rock shatters scissors, talent will rise above a name.