What do I write next?
When you want to revel in the feeling of accomplishment, but know that means it's time to write the next thing.
Writers hear this pestering saying all of the time: writer’s write.
Or, love this one even more: you should always be writing.
They’re not wrong. They’re just annoying.
At what point do we revel in the glory of completeness? We have to celebrate the end of the first thing before thinking about the next thing, right?
In the past year or so, I’ve completed a manuscript, a feature film, and a half hour pilot sample. The former two had been poked and prodded since 2021 and I felt like I gave birth to a future NBA player by the time they were complete.
I enjoyed the zest that accompanied those accomplishments. Then, that quickly faded and the feeling every writer hates began to loom. I realized I needed to activate the chutzpah to sell what I had already written and begin brainstorming what I’d write next.
I had plenty manuscript ideas that would likely take me a year to get to a readable place.
When it came to writing scripts, however, the craft I was supposed to be the best at, I didn’t know what I had left to give to the world.
Here’s how I got through it:
I often need to be fully present to find my stories again. These breaks to live usually have a theme. In 2021, it was fun. I traveled and was outside more than inside. In 2023, it was people. I expanded my community, found new friends, and started dating again.
I had to give my precious brain a break from turning the stories into words, so that I could discover new stories. Sometimes the stories are already there, and have already been lived, it just takes family hangs and girl time to reminisce them back to the present. I begin to remember characters, themes, moments, that inspire new ideas and stories.
The novel I’m currently writing came from being present on my drive home, noticing an empty area of land. I began to create a character from that area, which created an entire world and story all because I was present rather than on autopilot.
I people watch. I listen to how people communicate with one another. I go to coffee shops, museums, to lunch, on walks alone. I observe.
My stories often become amalgamations of the moments where I was the most present.
Using my grid of personal projects, I take a look at my current slate of projects to see if there are any holes. For example, if all of my comedy samples are Young Adult pilots, it may be worth it to explore an adult comedy or consider writing a feature.
This step usually also warrants a call out to my manager to see if they have any opinions on what I could be doing next.
At this point, I’ve taken a step back from the pen, or laptop, to live my stories before writing them. I’ve shared some belly laughs and some tears. I’ve also done some re-strategizing.
Now comes time to get some ideas on the page. These messy brainstorm documents that no one ever sees help me know whether I have a story yet, or just an idea. A story has an arc. An idea, on the other hand, is usually just a premise. No matter how catching the premise, it’s not a story and therefore is not ready to be written.
If I have a few ideas, that’s when I lean into whichever idea has the strongest story. I audition each idea to see which is the closest to being ready to pitch to a manager or create a story area document.
Once there’s a story, there’s good news that is also bad news. You have to write it now. Which means you have to create a schedule to ensure that you execute.
Need help creating a writing schedule? Look no further. I’ve already broken that down:
In summary, half of the writing process requires whimsy and frolic. It requires tears of joy and PMDD tears. You have to live in order to find your stories.
But once you find your stories again, you HAVE to go write.
And once you write it, you have to get it out there. But that’s a different article. Maybe we’ll talk about that next?
Where do y’all get stuck during the ideating phase? I’m here to chat.