
by Kathryn Graham
Jeane Wong, a friend of TVWriter™ and previous People’s Pilot winner, recently won the First Universal Cable Pitchfest with her pitch for The Thin Line!
What is The Thin Line about?

Jeane Wong, a friend of TVWriter™ and previous People’s Pilot winner, recently won the First Universal Cable Pitchfest with her pitch for The Thin Line!
What is The Thin Line about?

“Am I a real writer?”
There are lots of memes that float around facebook about what makes something ‘real’. They say things like ‘real women have curves’ or ‘real men wear pink’ usually typed over photographs of what some dingbat with Photoshop or MS Paint thinks represents reality. It’s all hogwash. A ‘real’ woman or man simply is because they feel they are. There is no prerequisite to becoming what you already are.

For a brief time, I was one of those ‘gatekeepers’ who read movie scripts that were submitted to an online contest (no, not for TVwriter’s contest. You’ll have to ask LB about that one).
I was a woefully underpaid ‘script analyst’ who, in order to make a buck, slogged through 120 – 215 page scripts and provided notes for contest hopefuls. If you’re thinking about entering one of these, here’s a few things I gleaned on the ‘other side’.

What’s a writer’s most important instrument? Is it a pen? A notebook? How about a laptop? Or is it your butt, the proverbial ‘butt in seat’ thing?
Bottom line, yourl butt is you, and you happen to be a physical body on a physical plane. I know my body is my most cherished instrument because right now I have a crick in my neck that’s making this article tough to write. It’s like Xena cut off the flow of blood to my brain except that instead of Xena, it was a shitty mattress, a flattened pillow, and a 40 hour a week desk job.
Many people, myself included, don’t treat their bodies right. Writers are more susceptible to this because of the nature of writing. If you’re sitting for long hours pounding away at a keyboard, you’re likely hurting your spine, potentially not eating or depriving yourself of sleep, and any other number of vices in the name of the written word.

“Whatever you resist you become. If you resist anger, you are always angry. If you resist sadness, you are always sad. If you resist suffering, you are always suffering. If you resist confusion, you are always confused. We think that we resist certain states because they are there, but actually they are there because we resist them.” — Adyashanti
The most common answer I’ve seen on to how to deal with criticism is “Deal with it. Grow a thick skin.” The idea is that after a while of being insulted, criticized, or dragged over the coals, you develop a kind of emotional callous (‘thick skin’). Maybe this means that one day you wake up and you’re a-okay with someone trashing you and your work. Or you’re able to discern whose opinions matter and whose don’t. Or, at least, you get better at ignoring the pain.
But does that actually happen? Does the fiftieth time a person insults your work hurt less than the first? What about all of that time in the meantime while you’re ‘toughening up’? Many writers are sensitive people. That is not a bad thing. It’s a trait like any other, and oftentimes it’s quite valuable in creative professions. However, now more than ever you’re susceptible to thousands of people’s opinions about you and your work. What can you do about it if you’re not the sort who lets things roll off their back easily?