On the inside and on the outside...

Monday I spent most of the workday hours immersed in the world I'm creating of my newest script. I wrote scenes about people who are emotional. They are also people who are flawed and scared and excited and happy and pissed off beyond belief. (My latest characters are mafia so that stands to reason.) And I wrote and I wrote and I wrote.

I wrote in the silence. I could hear birds and I could hear traffic through the window screens but mostly I could hear silence. Outside. Inside? I could hear the fights. The dying. The shots fired. The police cars. The music blaring. The world around my characters. The world of Detroit I am creating.

Then Monday night I got a work phone call. It was good news. Not even news. It was an update. A good update. A courtesy call about a project. It was fine. I was all business on the call, not expecting to hear anything about this project at this particular time as it's literally been eight months since I last heard about this project. I took some notes. And then the caller asked if this was a good time to talk, if I was good. I responded "yes" and "yes". And then I got off the call.

Afterwards, as I processed that call, I thought about what I had said. What he had said. Had I sounded mean? Rude? Angela, who heard my end as she was in the same room, said no. I sounded fine. Professional. Good.

But I still couldn't let it go. Should I have jumped for joy? Been more expressive? Even more conversational? Granted this really was just a business call but still. I second guessed myself all evening long.

And then yesterday morning I read the notes from a speech Jill Solloway, a wonderful writer and director, gave to new female filmmakers. And I sat with what I read for a long time. I often try to censor myself in this business. Be very professional and stoic and what I think an adult should act like. But in reality? I'm far from that. If you know me, you know I'm an intensely emotional person. I tear up at commercials on television. I cry over Facebook memes. I am my father's daughter. And I love that about myself. I feel things so much. I am conscious of others and their feelings and I feel all of that so deeply. In Solloway's speech she said this,

Toss out all the rules you’ve been told about “How to Make it.” Forget every rule you’ve ever heard. You know how they used to tell women IF YOU HAVE TO CRY, GO TO YOUR CAR. Or go to the bathroom? On my set, I say, IF YOU CAN’T CRY YOU’RE A LIABILITY. If you can’t cry, you can’t feel—and if you can’t feel, you’d better not be holding my camera.

I thought about this a lot yesterday. I thought about it in the context of my first job after grad school. I was the communications director for a grant-funded nonprofit (which has long been out of business). I was doing a job that was way out of my league. In fact, it was a job that a staff should have been doing. A well-trained staff. Instead it was me, in a tiny office, trying to do it all alone and I couldn't handle it. I literally did not have enough hours in the day to do everything required of me. And before they could fire me, I quit. I quit and I cried while I did it. And I was so ashamed that I cried. But I couldn't help myself. I was so emotionally involved in my job that it affected me that deeply.

Looking back on that day now, I think, yes, I needed to cry! Yes, I should have been crying! It was a horrible day. It was a horrible experience and that was my emotion on that day. I embrace that now. Because I don't want to lose that part of me. That part of me is me, it is what makes me the writer and the person I am.

I love that Solloway celebrates that. Being emotional. Feeling. Art, and life, should be emotional ventures. They have to be. If not, they aren't full, they aren't realized, they aren't real.

When I got off the phone Monday night I was full of emotion. I felt very excited but in that nervous, anxiety-riddled way. I thought I might throw up. (I didn't, it wasn't that kind of news really, not at all, I am being very dramatic for affect here.) What I did do was walk around full of energy for a couple of hours, spouting off things to Angela like, "I'm so nervous!" and "Argh!" So very helpful. So very expressive.

But I keep thinking about what if I had been more emotional on that phone call. If I had said more, acted differently. Not much would have probably changed, certainly not with the outcome of the call or the update. But I might have felt differently after. Instead of sharing all of my emotions with Angela, I might have included my advocate on the other end of the call. Told him that I really was good, and not so good. But alas, I did not. Something I'll conside for next time.

But the idea of emotions - of showing them, of experiencing them - is something that I'll keep working on. Especially in business. Especially in this business I'm in. I love television shows and movies that make me laugh and make me cry and make me angry all at once. I love when I get caught off guard and feel that surprise. I love when I feel anything. And I want that for my art. For my work. For my employment. For my life.

Just this weekend Angela and I were watching the E! show The Royals. It's a soap opera set in the British monarchy. It's DVR junk food. And I love it. And I don't. We were watching on Saturday and I kept making snide comments toward the television, I kept yelling and being sarcastic back to the characters and finally Angela asked if I wanted to quit watching. I yelled, "NO!" I was having too much fun, sharing my emotions during the viewing process. And I want to have more of that in this entertainment business. I want to make more of that. See more of that. Be more of that.

Solloway also said,

You CAN cry at work—in fact, you must cry at work. In fact, if you’re going to make a movie, do me a favor and think of it as “bring your tears to work day.” You can own the energy of the set by embodying the idea that everyone is safe; no one is going to get yelled at; that we’re lucky to be called upon to make art together.

I love that. I love the idea of that. I want to see more of that. Be more of that. Experience more of that. I want to be that change in not just my business but also in the world. But as Solloway says, "the only way things will change will be when we’re all wilder, louder, riskier, sillier, unexpectedly overflowing with surprise."

Here's to being all of those things and more, on the inside and on the outside.