It’s just getting too much.
Not writing, not life, but reading other people’s scripts/synopses/treatments.
At first I didn’t mind, I was even flattered. Somebody searched the internet for someone to send their cherished material to, and for some unknown reason they chose me. Would I mind reading their work?
Sure, why not?
Now I find this weird, why would anyone choose me? Why wouldn’t you choose the writer of your favourite film? Or at least one you’ve heard of?
Unless they tried everyone else and I was the bottom of the barrel.
I read it, told them what I thought and went to bed with a slightly inflated ego.
Then someone else asked. Would I read their script?
Sure, why not?
Then the first person got in touch again. They paid attention to my opinion (why?). Would I mind reading the revised version?
Erm, yeah. I’m a little busy but … what the hell, I’ll fit it in.
And so it went on. Last week I read four scripts and two treatments. I read more than I wrote. The majority of the writing I did last week was comments/reviews and suggestions.
It’s got to stop. I want to be able to help other people (seriously, why are they asking me?) but it’s eating into my time. I thought briefly about charging to read stuff, just to discourage casual callers; but I don’t want to get into that. I don’t want people actually paying me money to read and review scripts; I’m a writer, not a script consultant.
Although, I have done a bit of script editing, which is nearly the same thing – except a damn sight more profitable.
I’ve got to draw a line under it. No more. I just can’t get my own work done and keep reading more and more of other people’s work.
So I apologise to the people whose work I’ve read and commented on four or five drafts of, but I can’t read any more. I apologise to anyone else who might get in touch in the next few weeks/months/years (no, really, why are you emailing me? Email James Moran, he’s almost famous for a writer) but I don’t have the time for everyone.
I’m sorry and I feel like an arsehole even writing this, but I really, really can’t do it anymore.