Geez, I hate identifying my own flaws. It's maddening!
Yesterday, my sister arrived at my house with the sewing machine that Santa brought her. I've been sewing since I was sixteen and this past Christmas, most of my gifts for friends and family were sewn. I made wall organizers, receiving blankets, quilts, stuffed animals, pillow cases and baby bibs. My sister was eager to plug in her machine and start pumping out cleverly crafted goodies for her daughter's chearleading squad. It didn't happen. She didn't know how to sew.
She was frustrated that it took hours for her to learn how to thread her machine, work her bobbin, and cut out a pattern. I thought my sister did well for her first day at the machine. At the end of the day, which she counted as a failure, she'd succeeded in creating a sleeve for small pillow shaped like a letter "A". That's more than I learned on my first day of sewing.
Then it hit me.
One small quilt takes me about 48 hours of cutting, placing, piecing, and sewing ... not two days. I mean 48 hours spread out over as many days as it takes depending on how much time I put in each day and that's only because I've been sewing for such a long time. But that's what my sister wanted to accomplish in one day.
Produced screenwriters have worked at their craft most of their adult lives. I've been writing screenplays for two years.
Ahem. Point taken.