Trying something new

And what I learned in the process

Photo by Nikhil Mitra on Unsplash

For the first time in years, my weekend diary was clear. No hair or beauty maintenance appointments, no hay deliveries or vet appointments for my geriatric pets, no meals booked, or cafe catch ups with friends.

Two days completely free.

I can’t remember when this last happened, possibly pandemic times. I kept checking my diary to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

How would I spend these two precious days?

Christmas shopping popped into my mind for about three seconds before I dismissed it—far too early for that. Instead, I decided to try something new, something I’ve wanted to do since I began my career back when I was 18.

And that is scriptwriting.

When I was doing my journalism degree in the nineties, I’d see the cool kids on the MA scriptwriting course and think, ‘I’d like to do that one day.’

But, 26 years later, one day has never arrived.

I’ve come close a couple of times. First, during my English literature degree with the Open University (2011-2017) and later when I was doing my master’s degree in creative writing at Sheffield Hallam. Writing for TV and radio were modules on both courses, but the timings and options never quite worked out.

Lately though, scriptwriting has been on my mind. I wanted to try it—thought it might be fun. Then last week, with perfect timing, an email popped into my inbox about a TV writing competition for new scriptwriters. To enter, all I’d need to do is write ten pages of a 30-minute comedy.

‘Well, that sounds easy enough,’ I thought. ‘That’s what I’ll do on my weekend off.’

It was very much a case of now or never. So, on Saturday morning, I made myself a cup of Yorkshire decaf tea, grabbed my laptop, and made a start.

I had no idea what I was doing or how to structure and present a script. I wasn’t even sure if I could do it. I just downloaded an example script, and off I went.

There were so many reasons not to write. I’ve no experience. I don’t know what I’m doing. Other people will be better. I’ll never win the competition. It’s a complete and utter waste of time.

But somehow, I managed to push my fears and doubts aside, stay positive and believe in myself and my words.

I’ve watched comedy all my life. I read comic fiction. I have an understanding about story structure. Scriptwriting is a different kind of writing, but it’s still writing. I was confident I could channel my inner Phoebe Waller-Bridge and cobble something together.

If it went well, I might be snapped up by the BBC and win a BAFTA, or I could be shit. But without trying, I would never know.

I spent the day on the sofa, creating characters, writing scene after scene, slowly piecing together a comedy series. I laughed, and I learned a lot. I also knackered my back from poor posture, but that’s a problem for another day.

An hour in, I had a wobble when I realised it wasn’t as easy as I’d first thought. But I kept going, reminding myself that it didn’t matter if it was good or bad. The aim was to get something on the page.

Just writing in a new font (Courier New rather than my usual Arial) shook things up. I liked the shape of the words on the page. It was all so interesting and new. More than anything, I loved writing without fear, judgement or expectation.

I took a break in the afternoon to go for a walk, thinking it would clear my head, but the characters and story came with me. When I returned to the sofa, I had ideas not just for the script, but also for my prose pieces. This was very welcome because I’ve had a difficult few weeks of writer’s block following various pet deaths (rabbit, pony, ducks). I could feel my creative energy slowly returning.

Was it a weekend well spent?

Definitely.

I tried something I’ve always wanted to, and I’ve been productive. My ten pages are far from perfect or polished, but they’re written. Sometimes, it’s about making a start.

The weekend was also a reminder about allowing myself the time and space to write for long periods. I usually squeeze writing into the gaps in my diary, snatching time whenever and wherever I can. I’ve got so used to writing ‘on the go’, cramming lots of things into my days, that I’ve been missing the deeper, relaxing, creative work. After a long time working on the edge of chaos, I’m craving the calm.

If you enjoy my writing, please like the post, share it or leave a comment. It helps me find new readers for my work. You can also become a paid subscriber for just the cost of a coffee a month (£3.33). It shows me you enjoy my work and want me to continue. Thanks so much, Liz xx