473 Not Very Good Words on Success (& all that other stuff)

Preface: I wrote some good blogs last week. This is not one of them. They can’t all be winners.

“What does that kind of risk look like?”

I’m in a men’s group that meets regularly to talk about, well, everything. It’s not a Bible study and it’s not an accountability group. It’s a life examination, a place where no question is out of bounds, and the only answers required are honest ones. We were meeting a couple of weeks back and I was talking about my life—hopes and disappointments, possibilities. One of the guys looked at me and asked, “what is ‘success’ for you?”

I couldn’t answer him. But after this meander through risk/failure/inspiration/work I thought I could put words to it. Over the weekend I thought about it and planned to write it today. Then Donald Miller went and wrote it for me.

Or rather, I should say that’s what I’d like my definition to be. With all respect Mr. Miller, but it’s easier for that to be true when you’ve already written a best seller.

But then again, success is a head game. How much is enough? Are you ever satisfied? Is it even healthy to strive for success? Shouldn’t it be enough to earn a decent wage and raise my kids in health and safety?

Head game.

The truth is that while I should be satisfied with what I have and call it success, I’m not. I want a WGA. I want a Pulitzer. I want to be a Show Runner. Is that very Christian of me?

…

I know I was made to tell stories. I know I haven’t told the really good ones yet. I can feel them, rumbling around in the basement, snorting with impatience, waiting to see the light of day.

So if I haven’t met with success yet, and if my problem is that I don’t risk enough, where do I begin?

I let it drop a few days back that I have a goal of four feature-length scripts this year. Two for stage and two for screen. I have the idea for one, and the genre for another. I also let it drop that I’m going to write one here, on the blog.

Since I first started blogging, I always held my best ideas back, because I wanted to “make something of them.” We see how far that’s gotten me. So I’m throwing it out. I’m going to take (in my mind) a monumental risk and write a script in front of you in real time. Wide open to your comments, critique, ridicule and possible theft.

Although blogging in the traditional sense (you know, thought vomit, or “personal observation”) is good for me, I’m a dialogue writer. That’s what I should be doing.

One big risk that (hopefully) leads to one small success.

500 More Words on Risk and Failure

A recent text conversation with Seth Worley:

Seth: FYI. Nic Cage is currently being sued out the wazoo by people he’s in debt with. Been going on for a while. Might want to amend your blog.

Seth: That’s why he’s in everything you see lately.

Me: I know that. Why should I amend it?

Me: The point was that he continually faces risk and failure and continues to work, no matter what the circumstances.

Seth: Yeah, but not because he’s passionate. You don’t have to amend it. I just thought it was funny that you were like “he takes a job that he thinks is cool and does it. Or maybe he lost big in Vegas and has no other choice.” When the truth is he has no other choice.

Me: But he made bad choices before he had no choice.

Seth: Okay. Yes. That’s how he got there.

Me: Haha. Yes. Bt I meant he made bad acting choices.

Seth: So did I read your post wrong? I thought you used him as an example of noble failure.

Me: Not so much noble failure as continuing to risk and persevere through failure…


Among the things that Seth and I talk about (dinosaurs, absurd and pointless action sequences) is this subject of risk and failure.

Nic Cage is a terrible example of someone taking risks, because he is doing it for the money. He has to. But still, there must be a small voice in the back of his head that says, “if you keep doing this crap the only thing you’ll be able to land is syfy originals.” I think we can all agree he’s risking career suicide with schlock like “Season of the Witch” and “Drive Angry.”

Seth and I were talking the other day about risk. We were lamenting the fact that we work in a place where we’re not allowed to fail, and it causes us to take less chances. That was the afternoon before Shanley lecture. Mr. Shanley told us he’s currently developing a pilot with HBO about a Brooklyn District Attorney. He told us HBO was excited about it, talking about the courtroom scenes.

“No courtroom scenes.” Shanley said. “He never goes to court.”
HBO: Okay. Well, the office then.
Shanley: No. He hates the office. He never goes to the office.

A show about a DA that doesn’t go to court and doesn’t go to the office. HBO signed off. Shanley’s working on the script right now.

I realized my problem isn’t that I’m not allowed to fail. (Sidenote: I am allowed to fail at work. I’ve sent stuff to camp that BOMBED.) The problem is I don’t risk enough.

Doug Hall wrote this book about brainstorming. In it he talks about baseball and home runs. He says the best home run hitters strike out eleven times for every home run they hit. Eleven failures for every success.

So I guess the question is: what does that kind of risk look like?

475 words on Risk and Failure

I’ve been thinking a lot about risk and failure lately. It’s coaching change season in the NFL. Right now the twenty-eight teams not still playing are evaluating, firing and hiring coaches. As I listen to radio and browse ESPN, it strikes me how many fired coaches there are that another team has hired. John Fox, head coach of the Carolina Panthers for ten or so years gets fired and the next week the Denver Broncos hire him as their head coach. Mike Singletary is out as the head coach of the 49ers. There’s no doubt someone’s going to pick him up to be a linebackers coach or Defensive coordinator. We equate the NFL, and all sports, really, with winning. Success. But the reality is the league is populated with losers. With failure. Most players and coaches will never win the Super Bowl. But they’re out there everyday giving it their best shot. These coaches shoulder huge pressure, take an enormous risk to win. But most won’t.

Risk: exposure to the chance of injury or loss. A hazard or dangerous chance.

JPS talked about failure too. He wrote and directed “Joe Versus the Volcano” which is widely regarded as a monumental flop. (It wasn’t. The returns weren’t bad, and the reviews were mixed. But somehow it got this stigma attached to it.) He talked about having to live through that and what it did to his career. But he kept writing. Then he won the Pulitzer. Suck it, critics.

My friend Erin has taken on this crazy self-assigned project to watch every movie Robert Duvall’s ever been in. She dug up a quote from him about the success and failure about certain projects. He basically said he doesn’t listen to critics. He keeps working.

Because I’ve been dumbfounded by some of the choices people in Hollywood make. Nic Cage baffles me. But it’s the same thing. He finds a project that he likes/believes in/looks fun and does it. He takes the risk. Either that or he’s lost HUGE in Vegas and has some rough dudes after him.

For these people, coaches and Hollywood types, the pressure to succeed is massive giant. The risk is on a level I can’t fathom. But they do it. They fail. A lot. Then they do it again.

I had a brush with failure yesterday. Someone in the building didn’t like something I’d shot for them. Said they were going to have to reshoot the whole thing with someone else. Normally, this would send me into a tailspin. Normally, I’d question the very fabric of my being. But today I’m not. I did the best I could with the materials, people and equipment I had to work with. I stayed on time and under budget. They didn’t like it. I can’t help that. I failed. But I slept great last night.