Screenwriting : Fear vs. Creation: How Do You Move Forward? by Leonardo Ramirez

That every mind is unique. That I have exceptional imagination. Those two thoughts are what motivate me to move forward, to just stop overthinking and start writing.

Love that Rouidda Soliman. Overthinking will kill motivation. Thanks!

Leonardo Ramirez such a good convo here, such an important topic to grow as an artist: My fear is my screenplay is not enough, and on it goes….being enough. That’s what still at times creeps its head out, is this script enough? Am I worthy of it, is it worthy, can it be enough, compared to all the those “successful” people out there?

Moving past this takes the opposite of fear: trust:) Building trust in yourself, especially as an artist, can be easy for some, not so easy for others., I just allow myself to see, and honestly assess: ok, I’m afraid now, sure, take a breath, and remember, I know…I am…enough;) Accepting who I am, and loving my voice as I change and evolve, that’s what helps me transform the fear into a possibility. There’s so much more to see and feel, from the angle of love.

Thoughts like "No one will like this" and "this scene sucks," Leonardo Ramirez. I've gotten better at ignoring them and outlining, writing, etc.

When the fear starts to rise, I remind myself that it was and is completely absent when in the midst of writing or dreaming up a story. In that pure place of creation, it just doesn't exist. So when it does show up, I do my best to utilize it as a sentinel, keeping me alert and focused on my task at hand as opposed to letting it block the next steps.

Juliana Philippi this delves a tad into neuroplasticity and how long it takes us to change a habit so you've hit the nail on the head. Replace fear with trust - that's it. I think that as the process starts, we get "attacked" with fear but as we press on, the fear gets replaced. And there's much to be said about angling it from love. If you love your audience, it's for them. Love fuels. Great reminder!

No doubt Maurice Vaughan. With as much work as you've done, it's no surprise. Proud of you my friend.

Thanks, Leonardo Ramirez. Proud of you too my friend. It's inspiring seeing your progress and success. I like that quote! I use courage as a theme in scripts.

"In that pure place of creation, it just doesn't exist" - I love that David Linski. Speaks so much about pushing through until we reach a point where we've forgotten it's there!

That means a lot Maurice Vaughan.

Leonardo Ramirez what Leonardo wrote…

Leonardo Ramirez, thank you for voicing something so many of us wrestle with. Fear has a way of whispering doubts about originality or reception, but I’ve found that leaning into honesty, like you said, creates the most resonant work. For me, the fear often shows up as, ‘Will this character feel authentic enough?’ or ‘Am I daring too much with structure?’ I move past it by remembering that vulnerability is the bridge to connection. If the story carries truth, even in its imperfections, it will find its audience. I'm grateful you started this conversation because it reminds me that courage on the page is contagious, but I have special friends on Stage 32 like you who help me overcome fear when I need it. Thank you, my friend <3

“If I’m honest on the page and tell the story my soul is yearning to tell, that’s enough.”

Resonating and dripping with truth. The treasure is where your soul rests—right where your heart lies. Excavate that place and it will always yield pay dirt.

100%

The most frightening thought is that I might never share my stories or reach the point of success. When that fear appears, I try to calm my mind and say: ‘Okay, I hear you—but let’s just take this small step,’ or ‘Let’s just write this one part. Because I’ve come too far to simply let them go.

It’s the inner debate between the amygdala and the PFC—lol.

I received a cool email from scriptapalooza.com called "The truth about screeenwriting" a few days ago, and it's amazingly depressing amd inspiring at the same time:

The Truth About Screenwriting

The romantic vision of screenwriting goes something like this: You sit at a café in Los Angeles, MacBook open, crafting witty dialogue while sipping an oat milk latte. An agent discovers your spec script, sells it for six figures, and suddenly you're on set watching A-list actors bring your words to life.

The reality? It's messier, harder, and far more humbling than that. But for those who survive it, it's also more rewarding than you might imagine.

The Writing Process: It's Rewriting, Actually

Here's what nobody tells you: screenwriting isn't writing. It's rewriting. That first draft you labor over for months? It's essentially an expensive outline. The real work begins when you tear it apart and rebuild it, again and again, until the structure feels invisible and every scene earns its place.

Most professional screenwriters will rewrite a script 10 to 15 times before it's ready to show anyone. Then they'll rewrite it another dozen times based on notes. The writers who wash out aren't necessarily less talented—they just can't stomach the relentless revision process. They fall in love with their words and can't bear to murder their darlings.

The process itself is lonely in a way that surprises people. Novelists work alone, sure, but they have one vision to execute. Screenwriters work alone while writing toward a collaborative medium, knowing their script is just a blueprint that will be interpreted, altered, and potentially mangled by directors, actors, producers, and studio executives. You're writing something deeply personal that will inevitably become impersonal.

And the pace is punishing. In television, you might have two weeks to write an episode. In features, you could spend years on a single script, only to have it shelved. The highs are astronomical—seeing your name on screen, hearing your dialogue spoken, watching an audience react. The lows are devastating—projects that die in development, scripts rewritten beyond recognition, ideas stolen without credit.

The Agent Relationship: It's Complicated

Let's talk about agents, because this relationship defines much of a screenwriter's career, and it's rarely what beginners expect.

First, getting an agent is incredibly difficult. It's a catch-22: you need an agent to get meetings, but you need credits to get an agent. Most writers break in through networking, competitions, or fellowships that provide industry access. Some write a spec script so undeniable it passes from reader to reader until it lands on the right desk. But understand this—your first agent probably won't be your forever agent.

Once you have representation, the relationship is part business partnership, part therapy session, and part strategic alliance. A good agent doesn't just submit your work; they shape your career. They tell you which projects to take, which to pass on, and when you're being difficult versus when you should stand your ground. They absorb your anxieties about that pitch meeting, celebrate your wins, and deliver crushing rejections with enough softness to keep you functional.

But here's the tension: your agent works for you, but they only make money when you do. This creates a fundamental misalignment. You might want to spend a year developing that deeply personal indie drama. Your agent wants you to take the network procedural that pays scale. Both perspectives are valid. Both are also incomplete.

The best writer-agent relationships involve radical honesty. Your agent should tell you when your script isn't ready, when you're overestimating your leverage, or when you're being precious about notes. You should tell your agent when you feel pushed in the wrong direction or when you need them to fight harder for you. This honesty is rare. Most relationships are polite and transactional until they end, usually because the writer feels under-supported or the agent feels the writer isn't booking enough work.

And then there's the dark reality: some agents simply won't return your calls once your heat cools. You're only as valuable as your last sale. This industry has a short memory and an even shorter attention span.

The Financial Reality: Feast or Famine

The WGA minimum for an original screenplay is around $80,000 to $150,000 depending on budget. Sounds good, right? Except most screenwriters don't sell a script every year. Or every two years. The median income for WGA members is around $60,000 annually, and that includes the top earners who pull in millions. Half of WGA members make less than that. Many make nothing in a given year.

You'll have years where you sell a pitch and land a rewrite job and suddenly you're flush with cash. Then you'll have years where nothing hits, every meeting goes nowhere, and you're living off savings or day jobs. This volatility makes planning impossible. Mortgages, families, retirement—these become sources of anxiety rather than motivators.

And let's be clear: most screenwriters never get rich. They make a living, maybe a comfortable one, but the lottery-winner stories are outliers. For every Shane Black selling a spec for millions, there are thousands of writers grinding out decent careers in relative obscurity, writing episodes of shows you've never heard of or doing uncredited polishes on studio films.

The Development Hell: Where Scripts Go to Die

You will sell scripts that never get made. This isn't a possibility—it's a certainty. In fact, the vast majority of commissioned screenplays never see production. Studios develop dozens of projects for every one they greenlight. Your script might get caught in regime changes, budget crunches, or shifting market trends. It might simply lose its champion when an executive takes another job.

Development is an exercise in managed expectations and radical patience. You'll attend meetings where executives praise your script effusively, then ghost you for months. You'll do endless rounds of notes that seem designed to solve problems that don't exist. You'll watch less talented writers get their films made because they have a star attached or because their project fits a current trend.

The psychological toll is real. Every project carries hope, and hope deferred is exhausting. You learn to celebrate the sale, not the theoretical production. You learn to move on quickly, to always have the next thing brewing, because attachment to any single project is a path to bitterness.

The Notes: Everyone's a Critic

Receiving notes is a skill unto itself. Producers, executives, directors, actors—everyone will have opinions about your script. Some notes are brilliant and reveal blind spots you couldn't see. Some are moronic and reveal the note-giver never actually read your script. Your job is to determine which is which while remaining gracious and collaborative.

Here's the secret: most notes are wrong solutions to real problems. An executive says, "The protagonist should be more likable," when the actual issue is that the character's motivation isn't clear. A producer says, "Cut the third act," when really the second act is too long. Learning to decode notes, to hear the underlying concern rather than the proposed fix, separates professional screenwriters from amateurs.

And you have to develop thick skin without becoming cynical. You have to care deeply about your work while holding it lightly enough to change it. This paradox breaks a lot of writers. They either become precious and difficult, fighting every note on principle, or they become mercenaries who'll write anything, losing their voice in the process.

The Loneliness and the Community

Screenwriting is paradoxically solitary and social. You write alone, often for months, with no external validation. Then you're suddenly in writers' rooms, pitch meetings, and production offices, collaborating intensely with dozens of people. The whiplash between isolation and immersion can be disorienting.

Many screenwriters combat the loneliness through writing groups, where they share pages and trade notes. These groups become lifelines—people who understand the specific insanity of the profession, who can celebrate your small wins and commiserate over your losses. The best relationships in this business are often with other writers, because only they understand what it takes to keep going.

Why Anyone Does This

So why do it? Why subject yourself to this gauntlet of rejection, insecurity, and economic instability?

Because when it works, when the script comes together and the film gets made and an audience connects with something you created from nothing, it's transcendent. Because there's no feeling quite like solving a story problem you've been wrestling with for weeks. Because sitting in a theater and hearing people laugh at a joke you wrote, gasp at a twist you planted, or cry at a moment you crafted is worth years of struggle.

And because, despite everything, you can't imagine doing anything else. The stories won't leave you alone. The characters demand to be written. The blank page, for all its terror, remains endlessly seductive with possibility.

The truth about screenwriting is that it's not for everyone. It requires resilience, humility, business savvy, and a touch of masochism. It demands you believe in yourself when no evidence supports that belief. It asks you to create art within a commercial framework, to be both artist and entrepreneur, visionary and collaborator.

But for those built for it, there's nothing else quite like it. You're part of a tradition that stretches back to the beginning of cinema, telling stories that reach millions, shaping culture in small but meaningful ways. You're a writer, yes, but you're also an architect of dreams, a translator of the human experience into flickering images that might outlive you.

That's the truth about screenwriting. It's harder than you think, weirder than you expect, and more rewarding than you can imagine

The point is, I gave up on marketing like a year ago, but that email makes me want to re-engage and start working harder. Maybe our Stage32 connections will make our dreams a reality.

Thanks Bram Christian!

This: "vulnerability is the bridge to connection" is beautiful Sandra Correia and so very true. And if we project transparency to our characters, I believe they will feel authentic and resonate. There will always be someone who can relate either to us directly or through our characters. Beautifully said, my friend. Thank you.

Adam Spencer - man, I love this, "The treasure is where your soul rests" - true words. Out of the heart or the soul, our characters speak.

Thanks Stephen Folker - always good to see and hear from you friend.

I hear you Meriem Bouziani when you say, "I might never share my stories or reach the point of success." I think that's when we have to redefine what success is. If we've documented the message of our soul, I think that's success.

I love that you included that email Matt Dycus and there are a lot of points to it - all good. But there were a couple that stood out to me.

Rewrites: Even though I'm more of a features guy, I've come to love rewrites. They come alongside an awakening of an angle that I had not thought of before and elevates the script. It's like an "ah ha" moment that I hadn't thought of before. Maybe I'm weird that way, I don't know. It also depends on how it's delivered - when it elevates, I love it. When it calls a feature a TV series, I just shake my head and keep going.

"You can't imagine doing anything else." - I love to voice act (and perhaps someday...act) as well as play music to welcome peace. But when a story shows its beautiful head and won't let go, no. I can't imagine doing anything else.

I don't know how to link your name Leonardo Ramirez, but thanks for the input. I'm definitely not an actor or entertainer, but it's cool to see the other side of the industry. I appreciate it!

@Leonardo Ramirez fear... Is a funny thing. It doesn't come when I'm writing. It comes once I'm done and I'm supposed to make the next move.

I've kept myself in the "getting ready to" phase for a few months now. And I don't know how to get past it. But I will. One day I will just hold my breath and do the damn thing. I dunno when that'll happen because it's a random shot of bravery I rarely get, but that's the only time I can make a move. Wild hairs and all. I never know when it's coming and I just gotta grab on when the time comes.

Or .. I figure out a way around what's holding me up.

Any tips on how to do that would be great.

Hi Elle. I think the fear should be the fear of never succeeding. If I never get a project made, I'll hate that I didnt try hard enough. I don't fear rejection... I fear not trying hard enough.

Type the @ symbol, and a menu of names will show up, Matt Dycus.

Likewise Leonardo Ramirez !

What symbol?

My recurring fear, other than not getting my stuff out there (because good lord is the current process blackpilling sometimes), is leaving projects unfinished or even unattempted. I’m still haunted by the fact that Osamu Tezuka never finished his life’s works or even several other manga he had lined up, and Satoshi Kon’s Dream Machine will never be made. And I have lots of stories I still want to work on years after their initial inception, and coming up with new ideas is both fun and nerve-wracking because it’s just another one to add to the pile lol. Funnily enough though as my birthday nears I’m appreciating how much time I always think I don’t have and seeing the whole stretches of nothing lying in wait for me to make my mark. So if nothing else I’m treating every work as something I have to make count with all the time and energy I do have :) it’s also heartening knowing there is such a thing as the right idea at the wrong time; Lunar Window was in my mind for something like 6 years and now it actually is time to write it, so I imagine the same will be true for several more of my stuff in due time.

Hey Matt Dycus - it's this one = @. Once you type that in, a list of names will pop up. Then, you can scroll to the name you want to tag. Hope that helps!

Elle Bolan - I know that feeling. What helps me is filling in the outline. If you start with an outline, start filling in details in between some of those headings. If you keep adding in filler, you'll reach a point where you have no choice but to start. That's what has helped me when that happened. Hope that helps.

Interesting that you say that Banafsheh Esmailzadeh because my very first book is one that was shelved. I'd love to go back to it but I think it needs to be updated a bit more before I flesh it out. I didn't have a computer at the time so I wrote it all out on paper by hand.

I just edited my comment and added the @ symbol, @Matt. I'm not sure why it didn't show up the first time.

@MauriceVaughan @LeonardoRamirez2 Testing testing....No list of names popped up, but I'm on a ZFold 7, so maybe it's a technology thing?

Gonna hop on the computer. And LEONARDO - just write your story. If you start to worry that people won't get it, then you haven't found the right people. We're here for you brotato chip.

Hey, Leonardo - ever heard of "Imposter syndrome?" I got a good case of that when a production company actually produced a film my co-writer and I wrote. I started thinking - hey, this can't be happening. I'm not that good a writer. I hope no one finds out what a hack I really am. I'm gonna be really embarrassed when they find out that my co-writer did most of the heavy lifting. I got through all that somehow and 6 options later, I have found that I can stand on my own two writing feet and am really a pretty darn good writer. Just like YOU are, so keep writing, ignore the naysayers and keep telling your story with your voice. And, you are not an imposter - you, like all of us, are the real deal!

Ummm Leonardo Ramirez all of them! Seriously I can be racked with doubt, when I choke myself I overthink and end up frozen ( I tense up and bite my nails) and then I've known those moments when it just feels right. There's a reason this concept came to me. It's only in moving forward that it will get easier.

Marie, when you get that idea right, you're gonna love it.

Haha Matt Dycus - Love that..."brotato chip". I might have to use that.

I have heard of imposter syndrome Steve Dini and really glad you brought that up because I had wondered whether or not there was some of that involved. Now that you've mentioned it, I think it was. Your comment meant a lot Steve. We're the real deal. Thanks so much man.

I think you're right Marie Hatten. It's all in how we move forward. Nicely said.

Leonardo Ramirez that’s awesome that you physically wrote it out. My own first ever story is lost to the sands of time, on a floppy disc I’ve long since misplaced (ageing myself pretty good right now lol). But at the same time most of my stories from high school will permanently belong to that era. A couple of them spiritually live on but they’re not going to be rewritten for my current age any time soon xD

I have similar fears, Leonardo, and sometimes I get a review that echoes them exactly, and it feels crushing. I then get another review, and it's much more uplifting, even if it is saying essentially the same notes but in a more positive, problem-solving way. I think that is why it is so essential to find collaborators who find the gold inside the dirt. There is such a focus on writers learning to divine the note within the note, but equally important, I feel, is finding the people who champion the gold within the writer's soul.

Leonardo, this is the most honest post on creation I've seen all week. The fear that shows up for me is the fear of 'mid-story sag'—that moment when the complex logic of a high-concept feature breaks down and the story becomes unfocused.

I move past it by becoming hyper-focused on structure. If the blueprint is solid—if the Act 2 midpoint and the Act 3 reversal are locked—it gives me the courage to push through the fear, knowing the story won't collapse. Courage is definitely moving forward with the right map!

It's essential for me as I finalize my Sci-Fi Action/Thriller feature, THE LAST CARTOGRAPHER.

It might be your phone, Matt Dycus. The name tagging (the blue link to their profile) usually doesn't work in the web browser version on my phone, so I have to tag someone in the Stage 32 phone app, then post the rest of my comment in the web browser version. I can't add anything to my comment after I tag you in the app, so I can't post my whole comment in the app. If you don't want to do this, just put the @ symbol in front of someone's name without the blue link, like "@Matt" or "@MattDycus."

And sometimes the name tagging doesn't work in the web browser on a computer, so you have to refresh the page.

Hey I remember floppies Banafsheh Esmailzadeh LOL! #ShallWePlayAgame?

I remember a creative writing professor said that truly soulish works travels through your hands and onto paper. I think she was on to something.

I've gotten book reviews like that Maria Restivo Glassner so I know what you mean. I'm not above listening to criticism. But when you know they haven't bought your book, left no reviews on anything else and are truly ugly, it's not worth any focus. Coverage is a whole different animal that I actually love - especially when it elevates the script. There are one or two execs that I love going to for that because the script turns out so much better. But you're right, it's important to partner with people that will really "see" you and champion that.

You're very kind Salisu Abdullahi. What has always helped me in the mid-story sag is the logline and outline. If it doesn't adhere to a properly constructed logline, I throw it out. All the best to you with your feature!

The amazing responses on this threat gave me the courage to submit my first 10 pages. While I still feel like throwing up, I'm glad I took the leap.

I’m glad you submitted David Linski and really happy for you. It’s going to be fine my friend. Just take what fits and let go of the rest. Notes are not a measure of you as a whole.

Submitting anything is best part. You think it's perfect. Then some dillhole half-reads it and gives you a shitty response.

If you don't lose your mind, and.you can keep your head, you win.

When fear arises, I like to think that success lies in mistakes and the path is found in fear. So I allow myself to make many mistakes and I sit down to write, again and again, that scene or that synopsis that has me paralyzed, because surely the fear isn't of writing itself, but of stepping outside my comfort zone.

I like that Tania Cárdenas Paulsen - clarity is found when we push past that fear. Nicely said!

Tania Cárdenas Paulsen I love that! Absolutely.

Leonardo Ramirez Also, this post...is on fire!!! Amazing community here, peeps " )

Fuego mi hermana Juliana Philippi!

Thanks Leonardo Ramirez 2 you are welcome