Monday, April 30, 2012

A good day's work

This is the view from my desk chair right now. It's Monday evening and I've been sitting here off and on for over 12 hours. But it's been a good 12 hours, a productive 12 hours. And my tally board proves it.

I made the decision about a month ago that this was do or die time. It was time to kick this screenwriting career into high gear. I've been screenwriting full-time for almost four years now. I have 3 feature-length movie scripts, 10 television scripts, and a novel to show for it. I'm happy with my portfolio, I'm happy with my resume, and I've gathered a lot of invaluable information that I believe has prepared me to move forward.

For the last 2 weeks I've been culling lists of films, TV shows and webseries that are either in production or will be soon that might be looking to hire someone like me. Someone who's ready to be a script coordinator, a writers' assistant, even a staff writer. And today I started sending out resumes to the people and places on that list. 23 resumes. 23 personalized cover lists. And this is only the beginning.

Last year I did a round of a few hundred query letters to agents and managers and my results weren't good. I ended up working with a management company for months but chose not to sign with them when asked. This year, I'm hoping for better.

And so far?

My hope is being lifted by the hour. Of the 23 resumes I sent out today, only 2 were bounced back with bad email addresses (not bad since I found all of the addresses second-hand on the internet). And I received 2 responses.

Now, this might not seem like much but to me and my heavy heart, it was a lot. More than a lot. One response was simply a form email saying my resume would be routed to the correct department (which I did appreciate) but the other response? A phone call I missed while exercising and a follow-up email that resulted in a 10-minute phone conversation. And a potential meeting and another call tomorrow.

Hope.

I'm not getting too excited. It's day 1. I have a lot of feelers out in a lot of different places. I've called in favors and been approached for some really interesting things lately. I really believe that when the time and the project is right, it will happen. But can I just say, that looking at the view from my desk chair today has made me smile more than once.

And oh yeah, got a rewrite on that baseball pilot done today too and started a new script -- a sitcom. All in all? A good day's work.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Master of Arts

Ten years ago today I hobbled on stage at Western University and received my Masters of Arts degree in organizational communication. Ten years. I cannot believe it has been that long and yet...with all that has happened since then, it seems like three times as long.

After high school I spent two years studying at Lansing Community College. It was a great experience mostly because I didn't know exactly what I wanted to study yet and I would have been swallowed up by a university system. I already had been during orientation at said university system. Then I spent two years at a small, tiny, private college where I flourished. I studied French every day at eight a.m., I wrote for the college newspaper, I captained the golf team and I was introduced to the concept of communication as a discipline.

When I decided to go to grad school, I knew I wanted to study communication further. I'd been instantly enamored with the subject in undergrad but being the tiny school that Olivet College is, there was only one professor in the comm department and I could only learn so much from him. To this day I still know the definition of communication he drilled into his students from the first day of class and would quiz you on at lunch, on the college square, any where he might see you -- even five years later on an alumni visit. (Communication is the intentional, transactional, symbolic process of managing one's environment. Wally would be proud!)

And so I went to Western Michigan University which had a stellar, top-rated communication program (and now has a communication school). Only I kinda lucked into going there. See, WMU was the only grad program I applied to, mostly because it was forty-five minutes from where I lived at the time and Angela and a bunch of my friends went there. But maybe it wasn't luck, maybe it really was just meant to be.

I had the best time at WMU. I became a teacher there, thrown into my own Interpersonal Communication classes on day one. But I wasn't thrown in alone. I had awesome comrades-in-arms. I had second year grad students who taught me how to be a good teacher. And for the first time I really truly loved what I was studying. And I was good at it. See, as much as I loved studying French (four years in high school and two years in college) I was not very good. I could ready a novel in French but I could barely remember how to introduce myself and order off the menu. (I really want to go to France someday soon and when I do, I hope they'll appreciate the effort I put forth but forgive the way I will surely mangle their native tongue). But communication? Communication made sense.

I took classes in conflict management, group comm, customer service, female/male comm, etc. I spent time learning statistics and what makes an excellent survey question. I graded papers, I struggled through tough theoretical concepts and I read more in those two years than I thought was humanly possible. I read so much. So much.

And papers? I became a whiz at citations and research. I helped professors with their own writing -- I spent a big chunk of time finding out how women scientists and mathematicians portrayed on TV help girls to think they can be scientists and mathematicians. I studied the way other countries use soap operas and other TV shows to disseminate health information. Little did I know that all these years later that info would stick with me as I write my own TV shows and movies.

And friends? I met wonderful people in grad school -- one of my best friends, Betsy, and I hit it off on day one and have been close ever since. I cannot imagine how I could have made it through without her, EeLin, Ratan, Angela and Noelle.

I cannot emphasize how much grad school changed me. How it affected me. Not just intellectually but emotionally, physically, spiritually. It was during those two years that I became a scholar. In college I never really felt challenged. Maybe in my senior year when I started taking history classes and anthropology classes. But it always came fairly easy to me, or maybe I made it come easy by taking easy classes, I don't know. But in grad school, I struggled. A lot. I spent countless hours before and after class on a professor's couch in her office with a small study group trying to make sense of statistics. And I was thrilled to B in that class, my only one in my whole program. I still don't know how I did that and I am positive all of the information flew right out of my head the minute the final was done. I spent weeks camped out at the dining room table in our apartment pouring over books and writing twenty page research papers. And I loved it. I don't know when I slept or how I managed to teach two classes on top of it all but I did it. And I really did love it.

It was also during that time that I was a youth group leader forty-five minutes away. I drove to twice weekly meetings. I went on mission trips. And I was active in campus ministry at WMU and went on my own mission trips and socialized constantly. And I loved it.

But ten years ago today I was also changed physically. I was broken. Specifically, my ankle. The day before graduation was a glorious day. I remember sleeping late, getting to campus in time to give a makeup test and then help set up for our campus ministry's hot dog/ice cream giveaway in the middle of campus. And then I remember stepping in a hole, twisting my right ankle and hearing three pops. And that was that. I ended up in the campus infirmary, luckily we had a great sports medicine program, and it was determined a day later after several x-rays that I had broken my ankle. And not for the first time. I constantly had twisted my ankle, turned it, bruised it, over the course of my walking life. And for that, I was finally paying the price. My leg looked like something out of a horror movie and I didn't want to walk across that stage later that night on crutches. But...

My friends and family had other plans. And I have to tell you, I felt so loved over those few days. The night I broke my ankle I still had one final left to take. A formality really because I was already getting an A, even if I bombed the test but still, I had a final to take. So Angela and Noelle, my fearless roommates, loaded me into the car and then out, got me into a campus-issued wheelchair and I made my way up to a classroom on a top floor. I hadn't taken any pain killers yet, because I had a final (I was a very strict student back then) and I somehow managed to write several long-winded pages about female/male communication.

And since it was the last night of classes our very large group of friends had decided to go out dancing. It was supposed to be a great night but, a cast is not very conducive to dancing. So what did my friends do? They showed up at my apartment (which conveniently was not on the first floor), helped me scoot upstairs (really, the guys half-carried me), brought pizza and watched a movie with me. It was a great night, all things considered.

The next day my parents arrived in time for another doctor's visit and then my mom shuttled me to a salon where they washed and set my hair (casts are not conducive to showering either). Then we shuffled to campus where I somehow managed to hobble across the stage and where my friends who'd insisted I be there that night regardless, cheered me on. I felt like a rockstar just taking those few steps on those crutches. And I remember, standing in line and later sitting off stage for a long time, having my statistics professor and the head of the department make funny faces at me all night long just to keep me smiling. And I loved it.

It would be months before my ankle would be healed. Weeks of complete bed rest except for PT appointments, weeks of casts and pain. But in the long run, all of that is forgotten. And what stays with me is the wonderful memories of those two years and all that I learned. Grad school completed my college education perfectly because it would set in motion so much to come. Because of that degree and that work I would go on to teach college classes for the next eight years (and counting!). I would go on to teach seventh grade at a public school for two years. I would go on to write for newspapers, develop course curriculum, edit an emergency preparedness plan and eventually, figure out what was next - Hollywood.




Friday, April 20, 2012

One year

Exactly one year ago today I was awoken by a phone call at 6:30am. And I didn't even have to look at the caller ID to know who it was or what was about to be said. She was gone.

I cannot believe it has been a whole year since my Grandma MacDonald passed away. Sometimes I can't believe it's been five minutes. There are still instances when I think, oh, I'll send that to...and I have to stop. Or Angela says, "Well just call..." and we can't.

I think about her every day. I miss her every day. I don't wish her back, she was sick and I know she's up in Heaven dancing now but I still miss her. Today as I put on the ring her father gave her when she was a girl and put the necklace around my neck she gave me, I felt her with me. Close.

A year ago today I woke up in California and went to sleep in Michigan. And still today, I feel that divide. I feel how much my life there is not like my life here and how much I miss it. Mostly the people. Mostly grandma. I can't talk to her on the phone or send her a letter like I can with the others.

So today, I remember her, as I do every day, but I think about how much she is still a part of my life and I am grateful that she was a part at all. I hope she sees how I'm doing and that I think of our time together fondly. That I still feel her arms around me. That I still hear her laugh. That I still love her.


Wednesday, April 18, 2012

The Show

Last summer something clicked in me and I instantly knew that I wanted to write a script about a baseball team. But not really about the team, more about the people on the team - the owners, managers, players, etc. I wanted to set something in the arena of baseball. I don't know if it was the third straight Lugnuts game I attended or the excitement of Detroit having a really good season, but I knew I wanted to explore it further.

So I bought several books on baseball, devoured them through the fall, watched as many Tigers' games as I could, and kept a notebook of ideas. I didn't want to rush this script, it felt special in a way I hadn't experienced before. It felt bigger than the others.
In the meantime I wrote a spec script (an episode of Community) and another pilot script (Torched, centering around a woman arson investigator) and kept taking notes, kept learning. And then finally, in February, I felt it was time. I'd figured out the main character and some of the story but now it was time to pull it all together. And today? Today I wrote "End of Show" on the script.

It was a weird sensation, several hours ago, knowing that I was almost done with the rough draft. Sure, there's a lot of rewriting and editing to come and I know that's never easy but for me, the bones are laid, the creation is complete. Most likely the people or the plot won't change now. I love what I have. And here's the thing - I didn't want to finish. I did not want to write "End of Show" on that last page. Sure it felt great once I'd done it but I really wasn't ready to be done with this story yet.

So I'll continue on this week and next, writing a bible for the series, an exercise I've never done. It's where you create a document (anywhere from a few pages to a hundred or so) that lists the backstory, the characters, everything and anything about your script's world and possible storylines. I'm excited to keep thinking of these characters and there lives but I'm excited to have them down on paper too.

As one of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott, said just today on Twitter, the first draft is a miracle, it exists where NOTHING did before. And tonight, I take great joy and satisfaction in that.

Play ball!

Friday, April 13, 2012

A night with Jem, Scout & Atticus

This past summer I was challenged by one of my writer friends to read the novel "To Kill A Mockingbird". Somehow I managed to get through high school and college without ever being forced to read it, which is a good thing. I am one of those people who, if told to read something or do something, I will but I might not like it very much. This is how much of my high school reading transpired and why I read so many Danielle Steele novels instead. (Side note: I bought a new DS novel a few years back while on vacation and I couldn't get past page 2. Seriously. It made me sad. And happy, all at once.)

And while I put it off for a while, I eventually found an old high school copy in a used bookstore this summer. It has a few notes in it, a torn ear, etc. It felt very old school. And then I set to reading it. It took my all of five minutes to become engrossed. And I stayed up very late one night to finish it. I was in love.
Then this fall I got the movie from Netflix and Angela and I watched it on Thanksgiving night. What a treat - a movie that was a classic, that was beloved and lauded, and that held up. This is not usually the case for me. Since coming to L.A. and enrolling in film school I've watched 100s of movies, many of them made before I was born, and many of them have not lived up to the hype. ("Jaws" and "Casablanca" did. And then some.)
So when I heard that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences was holding a 50th anniversary screening complete with digitally restored print and special guests, for $5.00 a ticket, I jumped at the chance. And what a night it was. Watching the movie with over 600 others, including people who were involved in it's creation, was pretty cool. And afterwards when Mary Badham, the woman who played Scout all those years ago, came on stage to talk about the film and the time period, it was fascinating. So worth the hassle of fighting Beverly Hills traffic at rush hour, missing dinner and sitting next to a woman who slept through the entire film, snoring and waking herself occasionally. So worth it.


Monday, April 09, 2012

Easter (part 2)

Yesterday was just an all-around great day. One of those that comes along so rarely, it makes me want to have them every day but I know that if I did, they wouldn't be nearly as great. Angela and I went to church, talked to some fellow church-goers on the walk from the parking structure and basked in the sunshine that warmed us as we went. Worship was a lovely experience, good music, a good message, everyone done up in the best clothes and hats and shoes, and the place was packed. Imagine if every church were so full every Sunday, not just on that one day in spring and in December.

Then we had six friends over for dinner, all from church, most from our young adult growth group. Everyone brought something and it was just such a positive, happy experience. People brought food they had made, from family recipes, food that meant a lot to them growing up, food they loved but never prepared just for themselves here in Los Angeles. And we all talked about the food, our families, our lives. Afterwards we sat around talking until the evening, munching on desserts, just sharing stories, sharing time with one another. We don't do that enough anymore, especially not out here in California, not with my generation. Back home people stop by just to visit, to talk. Here there's none of that. But yesterday, there was.

We told shared tales of travel and work, talked about movies and television shows, brought each other into the folds our our lives and experiences. We were in community, we were sharing in God's love, in God's want for us to be with one another, to be among believers.

It was a really good day. And yes, I've decided, I want more of those. A lot more.


Sunday, April 08, 2012

Easter


This Easter week has been very different from last year's. Last year I was in Michigan, spending Maundy Thursday and Good Friday preparing to bury my Grandmother, then Saturday actually burying her. By the time Easter Sunday rolled around last year, it was all my family could do to gather at the table and lean on one another while eating candy for breakfast. It true, eggs and fruit were served alongside large bowls of chocolates and jelly beans. But strangely enough, it was exactly where I wanted to be last year, and frankly, where I'd rather be this year. Home. With my family. But it wasn't to be...

So instead, Angela and I set out to make this year's Easter a cheery one here in California. We pulled out the decorations, including the Easter baskets my Mom made for us when we were very little that she delivered to L.A. last year, and made sugar cookies in the shape of bunnies and eggs and lambs...

And tomorrow? Well, later today, since it's well after midnight now, we'll head off to church, a service that I'm sure will be packed to the gills and we'll praise the fact that our Savior is risen once again. A fact that I actually thank God for on more days than just this Sunday every spring. And then we'll have friends over to eat said cookies and celebrate the wonder that is living in this glorious world here on earth.

Easter. A feeling. A belief. Bunnies in baskets and marshmallow Peeps. Christ on the cross, who walks again. Easter. A time to celebrate. A time to start fresh. A time to remember. A time to rejoice.  Easter. 

Friday, April 06, 2012

Good Friday devotion


The third Lenten devotion I wrote that appears in the Hollywood United Methodist Church booklet: 

Good Friday, April 6
John 18:1-19:30
Jesus said, "It is finished!",
and bowed his head and gave up the spirit.

“There comes a point you think is the end. But it is just the beginning.” (Louis L’Amour)
This is one of my favorite quotes; these words have gotten me through many a dark night and a long day. And as I walked the streets of L.A. this morning, iPod blaring in my ears, gloves on my hands, hustling past others, I thought about it. I thought about how Jesus, up there on the cross where we put Him, gave up his spirit and proclaimed, “It is finished.”
             But it wasn’t really finished, was it? Not by a long shot. Though, on that Friday, that “good” Friday, it must have seemed so to Jesus’ mother and the others. Tied up on that cross, soldiers casting lots for His clothing, only vinegar to drink, His followers, the very people He so loved, denying Him. I am sure there was a collective sense of ‘game over’.
            Jesus died. Wait, nope, He didn’t just die. He was crucified, killed by the citizens of the country He lived in, the citizens He served. He was executed. And yet…it was only the beginning. We know that now. In some ways, His death served as a horrifying conclusion to a life spent trying to help others. But, in reality, His death served as the beautiful beginning of the love story between God and all of us.
God loves us so much that He sent Jesus to be killed. To go through all of that and to die up there on that cross, head bowed, spirit gone. And on this Good Friday, it’s important for me to remember, as I think about the life that I have and the love that I am given, that it is all because the end was only the beginning. That while today may be bleak, that while I think it is the end, it’s not. There is so much more to come that I cannot even imagine. And it starts today.

Prayer: God, when I come to you broken and hurt please help me to remember that that is when you do your work and give me a new beginning. Each and every time. Amen.