Screenwriter’s Almanac: The Energy Yield of Letting Go

When it might be time to say goodbye to that script, that story, or even that person

There’s a particular kind of heartbreak that screenwriters know well, and no, I’m not talking about bad notes or an ignored query. I’m talking about the slow, creeping realization that the story you’ve been working on… might not be working.

Not yet, at least.

Maybe you’ve rewritten it four times. Maybe you’ve obsessed over the plot, fixed the dialogue, renamed characters to the point of forgetting who is who. Maybe you’ve even convinced yourself that if you just force it into shape, if you keep hammering away, it’ll finally become the thing it was supposed to be.

But it doesn’t. And it won’t. And now it’s quietly draining you; your time, your energy, your hope. That’s not laziness. That’s yield.

Let’s talk about that word for a second. I never thought I would use that word so often in one Substack article, but here I am. I woke up with it in my head, so I’m going with it.

Everything We Invest Has a Yield

When we talk about “return on investment,” we usually think money. I don’t know about you, but I’ve spent far more time and energy (on creative work, on people, on life in general) than I have ever spent in terms of dollars. I’ve invested sweat, heartache, second-guessing, and full seasons of my life on projects that maybe, just maybe, weren’t meant to be.

But that doesn’t mean I didn’t get something in return. I always did. You always will. The yield is always there.

Sometimes the yield is clarity.

Sometimes it’s craft lessons.

Sometimes it’s just relief that you don’t have to keep working on this damn thing that has kept you awake at night, killed your appetite, or even drove you slightly out of your mind. It’s something that just no longer lights you up.

But just like a financial investment, the more you put in, the more crucial it becomes to ask:

Is the return worth it? And what kind of return am I actually getting?

Not Every Project Will Work, And That’s Okay

That big, bolded title is so damn important to remember. And listen, I’m not here to knock perseverance. God knows this business requires it. But perseverance doesn’t mean stubbornly sticking with a single project until you beat it into shape like that damn Ikea coffee table that was supposed to be easy to put together…and yet it’s five hours later, you’re literally sweating, your back hurts, and you have a dozen random pieces that haven’t been installed…and yet the table is complete. How’s that possible??

But I digress…perseverance means sticking with your calling. Your career. Your creative life. The projects are simply examples, not always definitions, of that larger commitment. Why do you think we date multiple people before finally committing to someone? You’re persevering in terms of finding a partner, creating a family, and simply finding love, but should we force a relationship to work when we know deep down it just isn’t? I think you know the answer to that.

Letting go of a script doesn’t mean you’ve given up on your larger goal and commitment. It means you’ve decided to make space. And endings, by the way, are wildly creative acts. They birth beginnings. They clear the field. They invite surprise!

As Cheryl Strayed once said (and yes, this is about her writing, not hiking):

“When the path reveals itself, follow it.”

Sometimes that path is away from something.

And because I had a ton of fun researching quotes from famous and fabulous people this morning, here are some more that hopefully give you a little pep in your step today.

“Leave the door open for the unexpected. That’s where the most beautiful things come from.” — Elizabeth Gilbert

“I’ve never had a project that didn’t teach me something. Even if I didn’t finish it.” — George Saunders

“Sometimes letting things go is an act of far greater power than defending or hanging on.” — Eckhart Tolle

So… Rewrite or Walk Away?

Here’s the messiness of it all: sometimes, the only way to know whether to keep going or walk away is to rewrite.

Rewriting is the magnifying glass that shows you the strength, or weakness, of the foundation. That’s why I’m hosting a rewrite workshop on Saturday, July 12, to help writers get organized, clarify their goals, and decide whether a project truly has a next life… or if it’s time to lovingly let it go. The purpose of the class is NOT to get you to a point of letting go of the script, of course. The purpose is to help you establish a much healthier approach to making changes. Most writers just don’t understand how to rewrite properly.

It’s a 4.5-hour recorded Zoom class that includes a full script read, detailed notes, and a 1-on-1 call with me to go over your finished rewrite in September. If you’re wondering whether your story still has some life left in it, or whether your energy might be better spent elsewhere, this class might help you figure that out. It’s only $497 - less than the cost of one script read and evaluation phone call with me!

Just reply to this email or comment below to join. Each enlisted writer receives free access to my Story Farm Community on Circle.so. We have a strong community there so far! Unlike this Substack community, you can post just like on Facebook, communicate with other writers, and if you upgrade to a paid membership there, take advantage of Office Hours and live workshops with me. If you’d like to create a free profile on our private writers’ community, you can do that here:

🔗 https://thestoryfarm.circle.so/c/forum/

The Yield Is Always Growth

I know I’m getting really deep here, but at the end of the day, creativity is like a garden. Some ideas bloom. Some decay and fertilize the next cute little plant that hopefully pops up (if I tend to it properly). But nothing is wasted - not even the heartbreak.

So if you’re wondering whether to keep going with that script, or to finally say goodbye, remember this:

You’re not quitting.

You’re planting something else.

And the yield, whatever shape it takes, will be worth it.

Keep going. Or don’t. But trust your energy, your intuition, and your deeper creative voice. It can never lie to you.

Until next time! Have a great weekend, everybody.

—Max Timm & The Story Farm