Why do I do these things to myself?
By now, most of you are familiar with National Novel Writing Month. I signed up for my first NaNoWriMo in 2001, back when there were still fewer than 200 writers participating. That first year was the only year I’ve completed the challenge. I think it was just important to prove to myself that I could start a novel and finish it, since prior to that month, the longest story I’d ever written was just five words short of 6000.
So I suppose it makes sense that Scriptfrenzy would appeal to me. What did I say about writing for stage and screen? That it was as unnatural to me as birthing babies out my ear canal? Of all the forms of writing I’ve attempted in my career, screenwriting is…well, let’s just say I have more confidence in my ability to write a prize-winning Villanelle.
Worse yet, I’ve found myself a partner.
I say “worse yet” for my partner’s sake. She doesn’t know me from Adam. We jokingly plotted the demise of one fictitious “Mr. Smith” on Microsoft’s QnA one afternoon, in order to illustrate a grammatical point, and our writing styles and sense of silliness meshed so well that I impulsively suggested she and I ought to team up for this Scriptfrenzy thing I’d just stumbled upon. Instead of wisely and suspiciously saying, “Who the heck are you and why would I want to collaborate with you? Couldn’t that get me in trouble with Homeland Security?” she said something that sounded like “What fun, count me in!” (I think her actual words were, “What is Scriptfrenzy?” but I took it to mean “Sounds like fun!” and put her name down as my writing partner. Hey, unlike NaNoWriMo and true to the “misery loves miserable company” principle, Scriptfrenzy allows you to write alone or in teams of two, giving you plausible deniability, should the whole project fall flat on its buttered buns.