An unexecuted concept is pure potential. An idea, existing only in the mind, is perfect. Only through execution, does it take on the faults of reality.
Before that, it can be all things. Nay, it is all things. It is infinite.
But in practice, nothing can be everything. Duh! If you try to please everyone, you’ll end up pleasing no one.
Let us discuss:
The failure to be perfect.
This is a good failure. A necessary failure. And yet!
Perfectionism haunts us. We feel how Kris Kelvin looks in every frame of Tarkovsky’s Solaris.
(I just saw it, we’re vibing hard today—thanks for the rec, Dad!)
The least we can do is make it easier on ourselves. I realized this while on a consulting job, earlier this year.
Excuse Me, That’s Too Many Things
I’m a freelance Game Designer. That is how I make my way in this mean old world. I love rules (I wish I were joking) and my job is to create and adjust rule sets for games.
I work with a fair number of clients who are either making their first game or else not in the traditional game space.
When I ask folks what kind of game they want to create, I often get long, sometimes contradictory lists:
“It’s a physics-based puzzle—”
“—with score tracking—”
“—and a crafting system—”
“—and co-op—”
“—and it’s infinitely replayable—”
And, and, and.
Scope creep aside, that’s too many things! Let’s tear off a chunk we can chew. You have to make this game, after all.
So, after we blue sky brainstorm the possibilities, I ask the client to pick one.
That’s it. That’s the game. It’s one thing.
Say we choose “co-op”—cooperative gameplay. Does that mean the game won’t have any other features?? No, of course not! It means everything else we build must directly enhance or manipulate the core experience: cooperative gameplay. Anything else, we cut.
Yes, there are exceptions. But remember, these folks are new to games. Can one make a genre-defying super title that does it all? Conceivably. Should you start there? Emphatically, no.
And yet, here I was, making the same exact mistake with my writing…
Oblivion and Infinity are the Same Thing
Before my current version of THEATER KIDS, I had a full 90 page draft from 2022 (when I was still in my freewriting phase). This version was a touching, coming-of-age tale and a slapstick farce. Challenging, no? Just you wait.
It was also about high school theater, the under-funding of the arts in public education, the dangers of believing in a meritocracy and San Francisco’s changing identity, from a counter-culture city to a playground for the extremely wealthy—all while reflecting the themes of othering and groupthink from The Crucible. And it’s a comedy. This was—is—my first feature.
And so, in aiming for a career-defining pièce de résistance that would catapult me to success, I instead missed the mark on everything and wrote a collection of disparate, tonally jarring scenes.
It was everything, and so it was nothing. Cool!
One thing. It has to be one thing.
I previously had no antagonist—too simple! I gave myself an antagonist. I didn’t have one main character—it’s an ensemble! I picked one main character.
I gave her a clear want and an emotional journey. It’s about a quiet girl finding her voice.
Now, every decision has to pass through that lens: does it serve the story?
This is not a fait accompli. I’m still working on it. But it exists, which is better than perfect.
As the problematic but highly quotable music producer Rick Rubin says in his book, The Creative Act: “If each piece is approached as our life’s defining work, we revise and overwrite endlessly, aiming for the unrealistic ideal of perfection. […]
The works we do are at most chapters. There will always be a new chapter, and another after that.”
Let’s finish this chapter.
Progress Report
I’m rewriting Theater Kids. It is not my life’s defining work.
I’m making my way through the WGA’s 101 Greatest Screenplays. I just watched The Apartment, and I loved it.
For those following along at home, I sent this week’s post out late. Sorry lads!
Miscellany
This post from author Brandon Taylor about rewriting saved my life this week, as I teetered on the brink of total re-write collapse. (I love rules.)
"Even the plants bring him no joy." LOL your memes bring me all the joy that writing tries to steal. "The works we do are at most chapters" - THIS I need to tattoo on my forehead. With shorts it's so much easier not to attempt infinity, but with features it feels damn near impossible. As Meg LeFauve says, "pick a pony"... but I want to ride 8 ponies at the same time! Great read as always, Kris. Sending you all the good vibes for the re-write!
“Only through execution, does it take on the faults of reality.” Love the phrasing of this, and it articulates something I often think about during the creative process too. Paradoxically, the more excited I am about the idea of a creative project, the more I will procrastinate starting it. What I'm really procrastinating is, as you describe, the sometimes devastating experience of seeing it exist in an imperfect (or even bad!) state. But of course, as is the point of your posts here, we gotta be okay with that.
“I love rules (I wish I were joking)” So funny, and same. Sometimes I feel like the only designer who withers inside when a client says, "Go wild! Surprise me; make something really creative." Tell me what you're looking for! I need to have something to map my work back to. Interesting to think about how that logic also applies to writing a story.
Thanks for continuing to write these posts—it's so refreshing to see this part of the creative process acknowledged and not treated like a depressing thing we should pretend doesn't happen to us haha.