Sometimes we have to take a risk to discover what we can actually do.
A few months ago, I met a filmmaker at a kids' birthday party in San Francisco. When he learned I was a writer, he asked for my contact info.
“I figure you must know other writers,” he said. “Sometimes I need help with the screenplays I work on.”
A few weeks later he reached out, explaining that he needed someone who could evaluate character development, identify weak plot points, and brainstorm solutions with him over zoom for his latest script. He asked who I’d recommend.
As I read the message, a crazy idea crossed my mind…
What if I pitch myself?
I got a little exhilarated at this thought - a YES sign from my inner creative. But just after that thought was another voice: EXCEPT YOU’VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE.
Sure, I had experience in book coaching, freelance writing, and have edited other people’s work for years, but I’d never professionally tackled a screenplay (or done any screenwriting.)
And even though I’ve always loved the idea of the “writers room” behind my favorite TV shows, picturing creatives playing with fidget toys and tossing out “what if” scenarios, I’d never creatively collaborated live with anyone - the thought intimidated me.
To top it off, I knew I wasn’t willing to do it for free, which is how I’ve built many of my now-compensated skills in the past. I needed to be paid for my time, which left me with a choice:
Do I pitch someone else—or pitch myself, but from a place of confidence?
As I sat with this question I remembered a statistic that’s always stayed with me: A 2014 study found that men tend to apply for jobs when they feel 60% qualified, while women often wait until they believe they are 100% qualified. This isn’t true for everyone of course, but it highlights a gap—not just in qualifications, but in confidence.
It raised a question many of us wrestle with:
How do we tell the difference between genuine lack of skills, versus fear telling us we’re not good enough/ready enough yet?
Here’s how I teased this answer out:
I researched the task:
I got to know the gaps in my skill set. I looked up the details around writing and editing a screenplay, the best practices for structuring short films, and familiarized myself with key story arcs in screenwriting, noticing where they differ from the story engineering I already know. I also brainstormed questions to keep in mind as I went, both to ask him and myself throughout the process.I researched the pay:
I researched standard rates for this type of contract work. Knowing the industry norms gave me a foundation to ask for fair compensation, even while knowing I was brand new to this specific work - but it made negotiating feel less daunting.I interrogated the discomfort:
I got quiet and asked: Is this discomfort because I’m truly unqualified—or because I’m afraid I won’t be perfect at something new? At first the answer wasn't obvious, but as I researched and readied myself for this pitch (and found that there are many overlaps between screenwriting and novel writing!) I became confident that what I didn’t already have in skills I could attain as we went. After some journaling and self-reflection, I could see that fear was the bigger hurdle.
And to that I said…
Get in the back seat, baby. Inviting a more confident inner part to the wheel, I replied to his email. “I’d like to recommend myself,” I wrote. And I believed (enough) that I could.
I was transparent with him about being new to screenwriting, but explained my other qualifications. I asked him to name the payment, and when he responded with a generous offer, I had to put fear in the backseat again. I can get paid that much?
Yes. Yes I can. So we got to work.
I was always nervous before our meetings—Does he know I’ve never brainstormed live like this before?—but as each session went, my fear was replaced by a growing passion for the actual project. I asked creativity to take over and for my ego to get out of the way– over and over again.
Sometimes I’d misread set directions aloud because I don’t know the shorthand, or I’d pitch something that flopped - but I kept reassuring myself that it’s okay to learn, and that being qualified doesn’t mean being perfect: it means staying present to the task. Rather than getting in my head about being terrible (when something felt hard) or amazing (when I was in flow) I kept taking my attention back to the characters, the project, and the film.
It was so much fun.
During our last meeting he surprised me by saying I’d be listed as a co-writer and would get an IMDB credit. He also said he might reach out from the set if actor’s have notes that he wants to run by me. “Well I mean, if you want you can just fly me to Japan for the shoot and then I’ll be right there,” I said laughing.
“Ya know actually we might just do that, I’ll keep you posted,” he said. You could have scraped my jaw off the floor.
What a reminder of what can happen when we’re willing to take a chance.
What’s calling you to take a chance?
Not every risk works out, and it's easy to let our past failures make it tempting to play things safe. But if we don’t take creative leaps we might never know what’s possible on the other side - I believe that is true for you too.
Is there something you’ve been thinking about trying, pitching yourself for, or creating, but you keep holding back? Where can you practice more creative confidence?
What if you took the first step—not because you feel completely ready, but because the experience might prepare you along the way? What if those past failures were readying you for the next win? What if you have to make some bad art before you make some good art?
If you need a little momentum, join me every Wednesday from 2-3:30 PM for virtual co-working. It’s a space for creatives, entrepreneurs, writers, or anyone who wants support accomplishing a task within the energy of other kindred spirits.
We have solo-preneurs, stay at home moms who want adult energy while they tackle housework, state workers who want that feeling of a coffee shop, coaches and writers and breathworkers and designers. You can attend just to do some journaling around what spaces you’re ready to play bigger.
Take a chance on yourself. I’ll see you on a Wednesday? You can sign up here for reminders.
Regardless, always cheering you on and reminding you that as much as you might have that inner critic that wants to keep you safe, you also have an inner creative who is exhilarated and saying YES.
Let’s find more of that.
Xo Melissa
Want a tool to inspire more creative confidence in yourself? I created the Questions You’ll Wish You Asked Yourself to be the guide and inner mentor you always wanted. Order yours today and take one step toward that leap you’re thinking about.
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We all contain multitudes, and I sure wish I’d thought to ask my mom more about hers while I still could. Consider writing down answers for your kids, asking questions of your family members, or sending one of the Questions You’ll Wish You Asked journals to a person you care about today. They make thoughtful and meaningful holiday gifts. Find them here.
