Actually, since I just started this community, we're all new members, So, I'll go first. I'm David Stem, long time screenwriter who decided after my daughter kept telling me I need to teach. She's at NYU now studying creative writing, and she and I have had many long conversations about the creative process and the mindset it takes to be a successful writer over time. I spent my entire 20s trying to figure out how to break into the business and made every classic mistake there was to make ... especially jumping into screenplays just because I got excited about an idea and yet had no real idea how to structure, not only the script itself, but my life as a writer. The good news was that during that journey, I at least learned to develop my own voice. And that led me to working as a journalist and in advertising. Both of which I loved much more than the office job I'd previously had for years. When I was 29, I was finally hired on a Nickelodeon sketch comedy show called, Roundhouse. And my career took off from there. I've seen many writers come and go during that time. And have realized the biggest obstacle any of us face is ourselves. I would say self-mastery is key to this process, but that sounds too harsh. I think there's a walk between discipline and self compassion that keeps a writer sane and productive. Especially when most of us are dealing with ADHD or whatever else drove us to want to be writers in the first place. Something I read long ago has always stuck with me on this journey: The blank page is God's way of showing you it's not so easy to be God. Which is why I created this community! So we could all face that and learn together. So, jump in, introduce yourself, tell us about your journey. Then go read the 10 Iron Clad Rules for a Writing Life and post which you excel at and which you struggle with! Those rules come from 25+ years of being in the trenches, day after day, with... myself!

1. Make me love you by page 2. You're asking me to spend an hour or two of my time reading your script. Let me know I can trust you not to waste my time by writing an opening that shows you care enough about mine to craft something beautiful or moving or terrifyingly original. 2. Description matters. Don't be glib. Write with craft. Don't waste my time with anything that doesn't truly matter. Every word should either advance plot, reveal character, or create atmosphere. If it doesn't do at least one of those three things, cut it. 3. Your brilliant idea is going to suck. That thing that felt like a gossamer cloud that would write itself is going to collapse like a popped balloon very soon after you start writing it. That's okay. It's like having children. If you had any idea how hard and expensive it would be, very few people would sign up. Your job is to stay with it, even when the inspiration is gone. To see it through the slog, even on days when you produce nothing worthwhile. Especially on those days. 4. If you feel lost and alone and stupid, that's not an indication you're lost and alone and stupid. It's an indication you're a writer. 5. Hoard your secrets. With very rare exceptions, don't talk about your ideas to other people. You don't even know what they are yet. They need to germinate and cross pollinate and wither and die on the vine and be reborn again. Keep them in your hothouse. You know that place earth was hundreds of millions of years ago, moist and hot and weird creatures crawling from the sea to the muck of earth, fighting for air, eating each other, dying and transforming. That's your creative process early on. A confused beautiful mess. The last thing you need is someone peering into your mudhole saying, "Why are you growing wings? No one's ever flown before." 6. It damn well better matter. I don't care if it's animation—Woody's love for Andy is all consuming. He's panicked at the very thought of losing it. The Cowgirl Jesse is utterly destroyed when she's left in a donation box on the side of the road. I still can't talk about that scene without crying. That love is everything. When Woody tells her he has to go back to Andy because he's still Andy's toy, she responds: "Let me guess, Andy's a real special kid. And to him you're his buddy, his best friend. And when Andy plays with you, it's like even though you're not moving, you feel like you're alive. Because that's how he sees you."