Should We Quit?

When “drive” takes a masochistic turn.

Making the decision to write this was tough. I’ve never been one to adopt the “boo hoo, woe is me” persona, but I am feeling about as low as it gets right now.

I know I’m not alone.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been driven to the point of obsession. Driven to succeed, driven to make it. I have a fire in my belly that sears like an ulcer. But, the older I get, the less I understand what these words mean. And the regrets for what I should have done, and when, mount by the day.

Allow me to explain. As a career writer, when I started this twisted journey, I wasn’t sure what direction to take. I wet my toes in Public Relations, then Journalism and finally, took a deep dive into Advertising and Marketing, where I remained for many years. Until, in fact, February of 2018 when I was unceremoniously laid off over the phone.

I am deeply sorry for those decisions because, in the cold, harsh light of hindsight, I realize I wanted more. Much more. And now I’m wondering if it’s too late.

Over sixteen years ago, I came to the realization that I wanted to be a screenwriter. Needed to be a screenwriter. Like a bolt of lightning, the passion to make my mark on the big and small screens sizzled with an almost palpable burn.

Have you felt like this? Known, with a certainty that couldn’t be denied, what path you should take? Again, I know I’m not alone. So many of you are with me here, but, while your passion may still be a brush fire, mine is dwindling to a spark. And that scares the hell out of me.

To be clear, I wouldn’t trade the past sixteen years for anything as I’ve had my triumphs along with my kicks in the teeth. But, I’d hoped that, at this juncture, I’d be in a different place — instead of constantly having to scrabble for Hollywood’s attention.

Reps. Wow. I had one who quit the entertainment industry to join the ministry and then, months later, confessed that he’d developed a “thing” for me. He quit right in the middle of shopping one of my scripts, by the way.

That was a blow, but it didn’t knock me down for the count. My years in advertising prepped me for dealing with rejection. I may not be successful — at least in my definition — but I’m nothing if not resilient. Again though, I’m wondering, “How long before I cave?”

I have a new manager now and she’s pitching my “baby,” the story of how my relationship with my parents took a turn for the revelatory when all three of us were diagnosed with cancer.

It’s kind of like an “August: Osage County” with Jews and more cancer — and some really dark, comedic moments because my parents were a couple of characters, and, as it turned out, the most courageous people I’d ever known.

This particular project is my blood, sweat and tears, the best thing I’ve ever written but so far, still no cigar.

Just yesterday, in fact, my rep told me that the companies she’d gotten the script to had all passed, but that she still “had faith.”

How is your faith holding up? Let’s talk about it.

Some days are different than others. Yesterday was not a “bounce back” day. It was more of a “Fuck this, I’m done” day.

I’m hurting right now. Every blow, every “no” knocks me back just far enough to where I wonder if I’ll recover.

As you write your Medium stories right now, what’s going through your head? What do you wish for? What do you want? Validation for your “talent?” Money? All of it — everything? There’s nothing wrong with that, but are you hurting yourself in the process?

Something that’s been on my mind: When does “drive” become an impediment instead of an asset? At what point do we throw in the towel and hightail it to the woods?

Yes. Medium. My love/hate relationship with this platform. I can’t seem to tear myself away from it, although I know I need to focus on “other things.” (Finish that script? Try writing a novel? Scratch my ass? What?)

Wouldn’t it be something if each of us had a personal, all-knowing entity perched on our shoulders to tell us, “Enough of that. Try this, instead.”

No more scrabbling around, noses lifted in our efforts to sniff out, like hound dogs, that thing that will finally make us feel fulfilled.

If only.

I’ve yet to make what one would call “decent” money on Medium. When I read about the writers who routinely make thousands of dollars, my head swims. What is their secret? It’s not that these folks don’t share their “tips.” They do, and graciously, but something is missing. They’re holding back that one, magical secret to their green sauce.

They must be, because I know I’m as “good” as they are, like so many other writers here. That said, I’m blowing it, somehow. My Partner Program stats attest to my fucking-up-ness.

Aside from Medium, I can’t find a job, or even a freelance gig. That’s another form of rejection that I submit to on a daily basis. If I had a buck for every time I was told I’m “not a good fit,” I’d be lying under an olive tree in Tuscany, right now.

Rejections. Heaps of them. Not just weekly or monthly, but daily. I still haven’t gotten into one of the Medium pubs like The Mission, Human Parts or P.S. I Love you. Admittedly, I haven’t tried that hard. That’s on me.

As the competition on this platform heats up, and yes, we’re competing even though we writers do support one another — to a point — I’m waiting to see how many among us are going to fall on our swords and crawl away, with only rivulets of blood as reminders that we were here.

There is something decidedly masochistic in driving oneself to the near breaking point.

Medium. Hollywood. Corporate America. They’ve been bitch-slapping the shit out of me and I keep coming back for more. Something is wrong with me. Or, right. I can’t seem to figure this out.

You probably don’t give a shit about my travails, nor should you. You have your own issues to deal with. Family. Work. The state of the world. Little things, like that.

So, please share: How do you pick yourself up, dust yourself off and keep on keepin’ on? Perhaps we could help one another. Lift each other up and say, “There, there. Stay strong and everything will be okay.”

It couldn’t hurt, right? At least, not any more than it already does.

Cheers.

“I have outlived most of my critics. It gives me great pleasure” Stephen King

Sherry McGuinn is a longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed. If so, please read on.