I Finally Looked Up

3 Ways to Get Some Perspective When You're Stuck

I’ve been working on something new and I’ve been struggling.

I got and idea for a new story back in November. At the time, I pitched the basic concept to people and, as a person who relies heavily on external validation, when people seemed to like it I decided I would move forward. I put it aside temporarily in December and January to do studio notes on an earlier script, but come February, I dove in.

Red flag number one: the story required a lot of ‘figuring out’. This red flag always takes me forever to notice because ‘figuring stuff out’ is kind of my default mode - it tends to kick in without me even realizing it most of the time. As I’ve written before, not a lot of magic shows up when you’re hammering away like you’re doing your taxes.

Red flag number two: the outline I eventually managed to write up was received less than enthusiastically. The main issue: it was more focused on expository details than character and story. Not surprising, in hindsight. This is what happens when I decide to approach a script like it’s a math problem.

Red flag number three: after putting it aside for a month and then coming back to it to begin anew… something was still feeling… off. So, one day this past week…

I looked up.

Looking up from your work and zooming out is difficult. Like, so difficult. Because you can think you’re doing it and really just be only looking halfway up. Or three quarters. You gotta look ALL THE WAY UP. Something inside of us really doesn’t want to do this. It’s afraid of what it’s going to see. Usually because it’s trying very hard to hide something from you, like doubts or questions or, even worse, FEELINGS. I remember going through a really hard time at one point (non-writing related) and when the question was posed to me, “What if it turns out you chose the wrong thing?” I instinctively said I couldn’t answer because when I tried it was like “looking at the sun.” It truly felt that way. I couldn’t look.

The genius Adam McKay illustrates how hard it can be in Don’t Look Up.¹ I mean, a lot of times it just seems easier to keep ourselves in the dark. Stick our heads in the sand. The thing is, whether you acknowledge what’s wrong or not, it’ll still get you in the end.

clip from Don't Look Up

So, earlier this week I looked up and realized… I had fallen into the same damn ‘figuring it out’ trap I had the first time. It was kind of devastating, honestly. In this career, as I’m sure is true for many others, time is money. And I felt I had just wasted… a lot. Like, I might as well have invested my life savings in Enron and then gone back to school to learn how to be a telephone operator.

Once I calmed down, I allowed myself to step back, really step back, and look at the big picture. Look UP. That’s when I finally discovered the root of the problem:

This story, that I had spent months working on, wasn’t the right one.

Once I realized this, I strangely had an immense sense of relief. Part of me finally spoke up and said, “Thank God we don’t have to pretend anymore.” like an asshole. I mean, really? If that part knew this whole time then why didn’t they SAY SOMETHING. That part needs to take some self-assertiveness classes.

Anyway, in the end, despite it being difficult, looking up helped me course correct. When working on a creative project, I recommend giving it a shot on occasion just to see if you’re still on the path you want to be on.

Here are three things I’ve found that help me to do it.

1 Pitch to someone I trust who is a good listener and knows me well.

If I’m stuck on a story, or it’s feeling flat or uninspired, I pitch what I have so far to someone else. If there is some big thing not working or if the story is really just not the one I should be telling right now, I can feel it while I’m saying the words, while I’m looking at their face. Something comes over me where I just start to… know. A lot of times I can’t even make it to the end without realizing that something is really not right. To be clear, this really doesn’t have much to do with what the other person actually thinks. It’s more of being tuned into a feeling inside of you when you share something with another person. ²

2 Ask myself, “Why do I really want to tell this story?"

This sounds like a no-brainer, but it’s tough to do while also being honest. In this case, I realized I had kind of been skirting around this question for awhile, focusing on other bits and pieces of the idea: fun scenes, cool visuals... However, when I forced myself to face the question head-on, I realized my main reason was because other people had said they liked it. I’ll be damned if I don’t fall for praise every f’ing time.

3 Imagine if I had the career of my dreams with zero pressure or expectations to produce anything in particular, would this still be the story I wanted to write next?

I know how caught up I can get in real world problems and the need for approval from others. I often rush into a new project because I’m desperate to be working towards a paycheck or an “Atta girl” and not because I’m filled with inspiration. When I remove those reasons from the equation, all I’m left with is Marie Kondo “Does this spark joy?” And just like my old socks, this story idea was ready for the donation bin.

Don’t be afraid to let go.

Within days of admitting to myself that this idea might not be the one for me right now (or possibly ever), something new appeared. Effortlessly. With Ease. Full of meaning and feeling. Bursting with possibility.

People talk about letting go and moving on all the time but no one tells you how to do it. It’s yet another one of those things that you’re just supposed to know. Well, I suck at it and am still learning, but incredibly grateful that I think I managed to pull it off this time.

But, we’ll see. In a few weeks I’ll need to look up and then I’ll know.

1. Okay, I have to be honest and tell you that I haven’t actually seen Don’t Look Up yet. But I plan to! And I know I’ll love it! Let this be proof that I will never lie to you. Because this is embarrassing.

2. When I was an editor, this was akin to showing a cut of something to someone else. When you sit in a room with someone while they watch your work play out, you suddenly feel every bad edit. There should be a name for this phenomenon. Maybe there already is?