What a Screenwriter Can Learn From Their Own Midpoint

I turned 39 in May and vowed to finish at least three spec scripts before I turned 40. See, I know 40 is not "old," but to me, it felt like the midpoint of my life. It was a time when I thought I'd dedicate myself to the craft and deepen my love for this medium.

Needing a bigger change than just words, I left my manager and focused on leveraging the connections I already had and setting up more projects.

It began working swimmingly.

Sure, I knew it was going to be hard with a baby under one year old at home and with my responsibilities not only for this website but also for other writing gigs. But I also knew I knew how to do it, and I wanted to use that last gust of my thirties to tell three stories I felt like I had to tell. They were what I had to say about life before 40.

And then I had a heart attack.

Yeah. As it turns out, you can plan all you want, but the midpoint turn, or twist, is undefeated. See, I thought his was going to be my most productive year.

And now, I guess I'm trying to figure out what it will be.

The Midpoint of a Career

When I broke into Hollywood, I had such an insane experience. I was like 25, and Shovel Buddies hit the top 20 on the Black List. It was in production and at SXSW by 2016.

And in those other years, I frequently worked on both film and TV ideas with top companies. By the time I was 30, I had a movie under my belt, had written some horror shorts for Netflix, done some small studio gigs, and felt like my career was humming.

Those mid-thirties turned out to be a good time, too.

I got to work in Live TV, work on a TV show that was produced, do more writing and rewriting, meet some of my heroes, turn others I met into villains, thrive, survive, and then the strike came.

Things have not been easy since 2023. It feels like Hollywood has been in slow development mode. There are lots of reasons for it, but nakedly, consolidation and the fewer number of TV shows and movies being made have squeezed out the middle- to lower-class writers.

The inherent frustration I was experiencing was that while I was finally stepping into my own as a writer, I was now competing with people who read less, jobs that would ghost you or not be real, and a shrinking network of like-minded execs who couldn't seem to get their heads above water as well.

If you walked outside in Hollywood, you would see all this reflected in the stores closing, apartments that were vacant, and in every conversation at every coffee shop.

Even when things were going great, they were different.

Let's say you had directors and producers attached to specs; well, then you're always waiting on something, either the piece of cast that gets you the money, the director, or the other elements that people want before they take things into a studio.

I was waiting on a call about a director meeting when my chest tightened a week ago. And I was sending an email about the latest draft from a gurney in the ER.

My heart attack didn't kill me, but it's caused me to look at the profession I love more than anything in the world differently.

It's caused a midpoint shift, and for once, I'm not totally sure what comes next.

- YouTube www.youtube.com

A Quick Word On Heart Attacks

Go get checked. Yearly physical. Blood tests. It's worth it. If you ever have chest pains or feel like you have food poisoning but can't throw up, go to the ER.

Walk every day, work out. Eat less sodium than you think.

But I am here to tell you, none of that might matter. It didn't for me.

In my case, as it turns out, it seems like I am purely unlucky. Had a bit of a virus in the summer that turned on my heart and took an otherwise healthy 39-year-old and put him on his butt.

I am getting better, taking meds, and on the mend.

Believe it or not, I wrote ten pages yesterday.

This is not for you to feel sorry for me, but for you to realize you are only in charge of so much. Just like Hollywood, sometimes it comes down to luck.

If you let that luck define you, it will. But I find it's much easier to let the things you can control define you.

You can take care of yourself.

You can write new scripts. You can rewrite and refine.

You can be someone others want to be around.

The rest will ebb and flow, or beat, if you will, just like a heart.

What Comes Next?

I love screenwriting so much; it has allowed me to travel the world in my mind when paychecks have not. It has been flexible when I needed to help my family at home or to raise my son.

The pay is getting worse, more infrequent, and the future is unknown.

I'm hoping Hollywood gets better, but that's out of my control.

What I can control is my writing, and as I said earlier, I know I am at my midpoint.

In screenwriting theory, the midpoint is where the stakes raised in Act I pay off in a way the protagonist never saw coming.

It's when you meet the alien in Alien, when No Country for Old Men becomes a cat-and-mouse game, and when Michael goes to Italy in The Godfather.

After this point, everything changes...

So, aside from me taking some pills and taking it easy, where do I go from here?
My assumption was simple: Hit 40, write three scripts, prove I’m still standing.

Well, now I have to stand up to prove I can still do that, and I have to walk, too.

As any decent writer can tell you, a character's goal is rarely what they actually need.

Before the chest pain, I thought "dedicating myself to the craft" meant squeezing out three feature specs while juggling a newborn, a website, and freelance gigs.

I was going to will myself into a career that paid the bills one way or another.

And yet, what good is a stacked slate if you're not around to see it produced?

The midpoint forces the protagonist to look in the mirror and pivot the initial strategy.

Hollywood is in a strange, painful place right now.

I’m still going to write. I love this medium too much to ever walk away from it. But the terms of the deal have changed.

Now, I'm going to take my time. I'm going to go at whatever pace my body and mind need to be creative.

My goal for the back half of my life isn't to be prolific; it's to survive and to drive the narrative on my own terms.

Summing It All Up

I turned 39 in May. I didn't get to finish those three specs before my heart decided to start the rewrite. Now, I'm going over the notes it sent me.

I'm applying them to the draft before I send anything out.

And for the first time in a long time, I’m actually eager to see where Act III takes me.

Like Natasha Bedingfield once sang, the rest is still unwritten.

Let me know what you think in the comments.