Thursday, September 20, 2012

Writing alone, together

Last night I attended the 2012 Sublime Primetime Emmy-nominated writers' panel at the Writers Guild Theater. I love this event. What more can a television writer ask than an evening spent listening to some of the best television writers out there speak on craft, tell stories, and share insight? Not much.

The president of the Writers Guild introduced the night with a lovely quote that I cannot remember but in sentiment it was that we are all writing alone but together. I love that. While writing is a solitary endeavor for the most part, creating television shows is anything but.

Recently I decided that I needed to further my writing skills by working with a writing consultant and the experience was exciting. To spend a couple of hours delving into my work, talking about characters I created as if they existed beyond the page, was something every writer should experience. Immediately.

To me, writing is serious business. But it's not just a business, it's not just the work I do every day at my desk. It's a part of who I am, who I want to be. I love it. So much so that I spent money to attend an event to hear others talk about it. Love it.

The writers at last night's event were diverse yet each fascinating in his or her own right. The writers who put together the Academy Awards, the Tonys, even the Emmys. The writer who crafts Bill Maher's dialogues. The writers who share with us their vision of the 50s and 60s via Mad Men. The writers who scare us into thinking about what might happen if the CIA does operate on U.S. soil via Homeland. The writer of an epic story about a couple of epic clans, the Hatfields and McCoys. The writer who reminds us all what it is to be young and stupid and way too smart in Girls. The writer who is hilarious and quick and smiles a lot and spends his time crafting zombie stories via the Walking Dead.

It was an amazing night and I didn't have my pencil to write it all down. (Long ago I decided to leave it at home as experiencing something and recording something are two very different activities.) But that doesn't mean I won't remember it. Pieces will pop up when I go to a meeting and think about how to pitch until I have nothing left or when I just can't sit at the computer for hour eleven. And to me, the writing alone then becomes a little less lonely when I realize we're all in it together.

Monday, September 17, 2012

The bedroom saga


Last year for my birthday my parents bought me a wonderful present -- a queen size mattress and box springs. The bed came with a frame. They bought me sheets and a new blanket, I got a comforter set from a friend, I finally got to use the quilts that my mom and my aunt had made me and things were good. Great.

Me in my 2011 birthday present! Love it!
I spend a lot of time in my bedroom, more time that the average person would be my guess. See, I sleep here. Usually between six and seven hours a night. I usually read for a little bit before I fall asleep so that's another thirty minutes to an hour. Then I get up and take two steps and sit down at my desk, in my bedroom. Voila! Home office! All in all, I'd guess I spend anywhere from fifteen to eighteen hours a day in my room most days. So what goes on in here is important and little sneaks by me.

That said, a month ago the ants invaded again. This time, not in the kitchen as they had done a few weeks prior. This time? They set up camp, no, they set up their metropolis, in my bedroom. Thousands of ants in their little organized ant roads running up and down the walls, in the corners, along the baseboards, even behind the bed. (I didn't sleep in here at all during the invasion, I'm thankful for a comfy couch.)

So, it was when we moved my bed to examine the ant problem that we found the mold. Again. We dealt with mold two years ago (dealt is a strong word but I won't outline my issues with our landlords here) and now it was back, on another wall. Long story short, last Wednesday contractors came to replace two walls.

The mold on one wall
It took about six hours, not counting the several hours the night before Angela and I had spent putting up plastic on the doors and closets to protect my stuff and the rest of the house from the mess. That and moving everything but my desk out into the living room. Alas, it is finished. And we're hoping (fingers crossed, everyone!) that the mold is gone like they promise us it is!


So before I put my room back together Angela and I went shopping for a new bedframe and headboard for my birthday present this year from my parents (they are awesome!). The old, free frame had plastic wheels that busted when we attempted to move it and I wanted something sturdier. We lucked on to a great frame the first store we went to (the same store we got our couch and two living room chairs from, love Cort!). And here it is -- new headboard, frame and bedskirt. And it only took two trips to the hardware and about four hours to assemble it all! (Whew!)

My 2012 birthday present - the headboard and frame! Love it!
I love it! My room is pulled together now with the gorgeous antique end tables that were my great grandma's and if I can get all the pictures back on the wall, we'll be golden! I'm one lucky girl!






Wednesday, September 12, 2012

PrimeCuts

On Sunday I convinced Angela to accompany me to a free event at the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood. It was a panel discussion lead by Shawn Ryan, television writer (creator of The Shield among other things I love), with several Emmy-nominated editors. Editors? Yep, editors. And no, I'm not switching professions.

The reason I wanted to go to the event was that I am a writer and I want to be a showrunner someday. I want to create and craft a television series. That doesn't just mean writing the story but it means casting, choosing locations for shooting, directing, producing, even editing. Some of the strongest voices among showrunners today are those who spend hours in the editing booth along side these talented individuals who were up on the stage Sunday afternoon.

And guess what? The event was fascinating. For both Angela and I. (I told her I'd go with her to a free screening of Pitch Perfect next week, a movie we've seen previewed too many times and that I groan at each time. But I'll hold onto my end of the bargain!) We laughed, we learned a lot and we were held rapt by the stories these editors told.

Did you know that for every 45 minute show of The Deadliest Catch there are thousands of hours of tape that these editors have to cull? That these tapes are made by actual cameramen and women in the boats and then thrown overboard in cases they hope the follow boat will find?

Did you know that sometimes the writer of an episode of a TV drama will just write montage in the script and it's up to the editor to craft that? And the result is usually breathtaking? (see any and all montages in Breaking Bad)

The panelists showed clips of their work and talked for over two and half hours. I could have listened for twice that long. I'm amazed at what these people do. How they take very rough-looking film or tape and turn it into the beauty that we watch on our HD TVs each week. They create scenes with music and glances and movement. It's really quite something.

Thursday, September 06, 2012

Ten on Thursday

Ten things I'm thankful for today (in no particular order)...
  1. That it's just the tiniest bit cooler out. (Yes, 89 is cooler for L.A. this time of year.) Without air conditioning it's been VERY WARM in our house/my office. VERY WARM. (AKA ridiculously, horrendously, unimaginably hot.) 
  2. The black, white and orange cat that sleeps behind the BBQ in our backyard. She climbs the fence (which is almost 6 foot tall) and settles into the dirt patch right there between the grill and the garage. We put a bowl of water out for her Monday because it was so stinking hot and today she finally drank from it! And she came back tonight to rest again. She'll have a name soon enough. 
  3. New socks and new shoes. My mom bought me the socks Up North this summer, they're for runners, wool, supposed to prevent blisters. I won the shoes at the Revlon 5K we did this spring and they just arrived in the mail last week. So far it's been 6 days in a row of walking and not a single blister. This is truly a miracle for me! 
  4. Angela having a wonderful group of students and getting to slowly make her classroom her own. It's not permanent but it's hers for a while. 
  5. My Community season 3 DVDs. We laugh and laugh every night watching them.
  6. My writing support system. I love having a group of friends who talk me through things, post silly things for me, and encourage me every day. 
  7. Weight Watchers ice cream bars.
  8. Fresh fruit. This week: kiwis, peaches and bananas.
  9. Doctors and chemo and faith. Having all three in this life is essential to keeping the people I love with me. 
  10. Music. Every day it's something different with me it seems. This week I had a whole day of Childish Gambino (rap - I LOVE HIM!), another of Joshua Kadison (I know every note of every song in my soul), and yet another of dance music that kept me tapping my feet while I graded thesis statements for hours (in love with MIA's song Bad Girls).

Monday, August 27, 2012

Jumping in

Last week was one of disruption for me. It wasn't all bad disruption, some of it was quite welcome. A phone call with my grandmother that lasted for over an hour. Multiple chats with my parents and friends. A stolen afternoon at the movies because it's still so hot (and still summer! Even though LAUSD disagrees!). Emails and cries for help from students who are struggling, struggling so.

But some of the distractions were most unwelcome. Last weekend ants invaded my bedroom which is also my office. Ants, no big deal right? Kill a few, swat a few, throw up a little trap thingy do from the store, good to go. Wrong. These ants moved in, invited all of their friends, and then threw open the flood gates for every ant in the neighborhood. They created this ant highway in the corner right above my desk. Needless to say, this was not an ideal work environment. Then when the exterminator finally made it over, we found mold behind my bed. Again. A frantic email and call to the landlord and I decided my office was not worth it and I moved out. Slept on the couch all week. Worked at the table. On the floor. Or just didn't work. At least not writing-wise.

But I was determined to make this week different. The ants are gone (knock on everything!) and the mold, well it's still there but c'est la vie. I'm not about to tear into the drywall so I'll let it be. For now. (Ah, landlords, sigh.) So this morning the first thing I did was clean my desk (it's glass and shows dust and dirt horribly). Took everything off, wiped it down, dried it, organized it, and then got to work.

I have a sign on my desk (see above) that used to hang in my seventh grade classroom. I think it's applicable no matter where I'm working. So that's what I did this morning, took a deep breath and jumped in. To the files. To the classroom. To the spec that's not going to write itself.

Were there distractions today? Yes. Will there be tomorrow? Probably. But guess what? I must push on. Jump in. Regardless. Because frankly, if I don't do my job and tell my stories, who will?

Monday, August 20, 2012

Survivors

Angela and I have been back in California a month now, back from a glorious four week vacation in Michigan. Back from not thinking about jobs and money and worries and life. Back from bonfires and central air conditioning and fireflies and cuddly babies and family and love. But we're back. In Los Angeles.

School started two weeks ago for me, I'm teaching again, online, and it's going well. I've got a new system for organizing my classes. I'm corresponding with students via email and phone and text message. It's keeping me busy. I've also had a job interview, applied for hundreds others, and have started writing. A little. Not as much as I should because it's hot. And that's not an excuse but a reality. It's hot. FREAKING HOT. Outside. In my house. In my office. It's so hot my phone almost quit the other day. It's so hot Angela's brand new birthday Tervis tumblers together and had to be returned. It's so hot that I got sick on Friday. It's so hot my brain barely works. So we've seen a lot of movies, walked through all of Los Angeles's mall and hate to get out of our cars. Did I mention it's hot? I won't again. I promise. (Unless my brain breaks again and I need another excuse.)

School started one week ago for Angela. She's working as a long-term sub for the 4th year in a row. If she's lucky, she gets to work at the same school in the same room for a semester. If she's not, she'll likely not work at all. Welcome to a new solution to the budget crisis by the school district. Welcome to teaching sixth graders their multiplication tables. But the thing? She's a FREAKING ROCKSTAR. A complete and utter trooper. She does her job like the National Board Certified Teacher she is. She does the job better than most people I've ever seen in a classroom or out. She does it and she does it so well.

This weekend we celebrated her birthday with a BBQ with some great friends (a real blessing because it's been a very long month) and then walking around Santa Monica taking in the ocean breezes. This weekend we struggled. This weekend we laughed and we cried and we did our jobs (yep, both of us worked both days this weekend) and we watched TV and saw movies and ate cake. We survive. Because, really, is there any other option? Survivors survive. And that's what we'll do. Even if it's HOT in here. Come on September, bring up some relief....

Monday, August 13, 2012

Four years from now? Nope, today!

Like many people in the world, I've spent the last 17 days watching the Olympics. We streamed some of the swimming competitions online to avoid hearing spoilers (swimming is by far my favorite sport - I really prefer the sports that are not judged, simply won). We watched the four to five hours of coverage each night on NBC (though some nights we DVRed it and then fast-forwarded through volleyball, a sport I just am not that in to). And sometimes I'd find myself turning on the TV during the day to see what was happening (especially on the weekends). And yet, I still didn't see most of the sports or competitions that went on in London. But what I did see amazed me. It moved me. It inspired me.

What inspired me most was that these athletes have the chance to compete on this stage just once every four years. They train for over 14,000 days to prepare for, in some cases, one shot at the gold. And it got me thinking. I train for the "gold" in my field some days. Not even most lately. I was on vacation and didn't write at all, and since I've been back, well, these fingers have typed more blogs than screenplays (which isn't saying much). Yes, there are excuses. It's summer, it's too hot in here, there's work (that pays actual money) to be done.

Blah blah blah.

I'm pretty sure Oscar Pistorius runs in the heat. I'm pretty sure Missy Franklin still works out when she has algebra homework.

And here's the rub. I don't have to wait four years for my chance to shine. Hollywood makes movies and television shows year-round. They're doing it right now. They'll be doing it tomorrow. And they want good stories, right? Right. (I'm saying this over and over in my head to psych myself up.) Recently I paid some money to a wonderful coach to help me improve my writing and I've realized, I really need to take advantage of that. And so I am. Now. Not tomorrow. Right now. Even though I'm tired and I really want to curl up in front of the fans (yep, two pointed at my bed) and read Time.

But instead? I'm going to publish this blog and open up the script I'm working on because I've had a new opening scene running through my head all day and I've just been too preoccupied and lazy to write it down. So here's me, putting my money where my mouth is and being inspired.
"I am responsible for my dreams."
-- anonymous 

Thursday, August 02, 2012

Jack, age 1

One year ago today I got a frantic phone call. There had been an early morning wake up call at the house next door to my parents. Ambulance and all. It had been a long summer there already, one that saw my parents taking care of the little girls who lived there a lot of the time, switching off with their other grandma, while their mom was in the hospital and their dad was tending to her and working. A long summer, yes, but one no one thought twice about changing or getting away from. See all the early mornings with the girls, all the worry and prayer? It culminated one year ago today when this little guy made his appearance, a little earlier than he was supposed to:
Angela and Jack, July 2012 (11 mos. old)
One of the many things I love about my family is their ability to make awesome friends. Seriously. We have one of the biggest networks of extended family members I've ever come across. We get to know you and then you're stuck with us. This goes triple if you live next door to my parents and have three little ones who become instant grandbabies. First there was a new baby next door, seven years ago:
Emma (7 yrs. old)
Then came this crazy little thing who giggles and gets grumpy (which we all love) four years ago:
Lucy (4 yrs. old)
And then last summer introduced us to the third grandneighbor:
Tom & Chris with grandneighbor Jack
It wasn't an ideal introduction to the world from anyone's perspective. Jack and his momma almost didn't make it. But doctors do awesome things and God rocks and well, this summer I got to spend a lot of time catching fireflies and playing hide and seek with his sisters and a lot of time cuddling with Mister Jack and welcoming him to the neighborhood.

Jenny & Jack
Jack and his momma are doing fine now. Jack loves Chinese food like his sister Lucy and can knock down a very tall set of blocks. When I last saw him a few weeks ago he was crawling (which is CRAZY because he wasn't when I first got to Michigan just a few weeks before that) and ready to run at any second. And all I can say is that these neighbors on North Michigan Avenue are pretty thankful to have those neighbors in our lives. Happy 1st Birthday, Jack! We love you! (and your whole family!)
Chris, Sarah, Angela, Jack & Tom (July 2012)





Monday, July 30, 2012

Hiatus over



I have not abandoned my blog. I just stole some time away from my desk, some much needed time. To start, I worked at Angela's school for almost a week at the end of the school year in June. I didn't get paid and we worked between 10 and 15 hours a day. It was tiring and fun and used different parts of my brain and made me feel useful for a while. Volunteering has a way of doing that.

Then I flew away to Michigan for a month. Yep, a whole MONTH. It was glorious. It was just what my soul needed. It was restful and busy and fun-filled. I spent time with my family and friends. I swam a lot. I sat in a boat and closed my eyes and felt my hair fly in the wind. I wore a lot of sunscreen. I drank slush and laughed and drank some more. I ate ice cream, almost every single day. I went through boxes of old photographs and listened to stories of family members past and present. I played golf and almost got two holes in one. So close. I roasted marshmallows and played hide and seek and caught fireflies. Hundreds of fireflies.

When it was time to come home I was so deep into vacation-mode that it was hard to re-enter "real life". But slowly, I've figured it out. I'm back at my desk, I'm writing again, I'm prepping the next quarter's classes. I'm dealing with the mail and the empty fridge and the idea that I'm not on vacation any more. But it's hard. It was such a good month. Every single day.

But I'm back. We've started back up at church (finished the year-long 26 lesson study on Romans this week we've been doing in our Sunday school). We went to see The Producers last night at the Hollywood Bowl and laughed and laughed and cheered. We've made the Costco runs and called in the exterminator (the ants beat us back from Michigan). I've set up appointments with my writers' group and a television consultant. I'm on track.

Life is good. It's in the memories that I get to remember that every day. And it's still only July. It's still just the middle of summer. And we've got days and days of Olympic events left to watch. Go athletes! Go USA! Go world! Oh yeah, and baseball. There's still lots of baseball to watch. Go Tigers!

Thursday, June 14, 2012

A writing kind of day

About a month ago I started working on a new pilot script. One that I'd been mulling around for over a year. Last summer I was challenged to come up with a huge list of ideas for stories and I did. Some were good, a couple turned into really great scripts, others were obviously meant for the old idea recycle bin in the sky. And still some? They stuck with me. This new idea was one of those. In the back of my mind for the past year, I've been thinking about these characters. I've been thinking about this place. I've been thinking about their story.

So I started the laying the ground work. I came up with character sketches and outlines. I batted around plot ideas and story lines. I finally came up with a beat sheet/outline I really liked and then I started writing.

I wrote the first scene, the cold open in sitcom terms (I'm writing a multi-camera sitcom this go around which means it will be filmed in front of a studio audience, performed like a play, on limited sets, this is a new genre for me in pilots though I have written a Big Bang Theory spec). It came out over the course of two days, five pages worth. I though, bam! check that off my list. (I actually do have a to-do list when it comes to writing, it helps me keep track of everything.) And then I started to write the first act. And I stopped.

I had Angela, my trusty first reader of all things, read the cold open. I was excited to get her reaction. And she gave it. She said it was fine. Fine was not what I wanted. I wanted a laugh (which is hard to come by from my first trust reader). I wanted a smile. Something. Anything. Not, "it was fine". So I looked back over the pages and guess what? That was my reaction too. So the next day I sat and sat, staring at the screen, trying to figure out what to do with it. I knew I couldn't go any further until I fixed this problem but I didn't know how to fix it.

That was weeks ago. I'd since taken the character charts off the wall, put away the outlines and pages of notes. Moved the file from my MacBook's Desktop to the deep recesses of the TV Writing folder. And I tried to quit thinking about it. I started rewriting my baseball pilot, which I love, which everyone loves. But it had to be stripped down and built back up again, this I knew. I knew it could be better because it has to be. It has to be the best out of thousands of scripts out there.

I started a new writing project. I worked on teaching Angela the little I know about statistics for her grad course. I busied myself with other projects. But still, the sitcom story and characters stayed with me, almost like elevator music. Always there, never fully recognized. Until this morning.

I was listening to a podcast, checking email, paying bills, doing too many other things at once. My mind was anything but focused. Cookies in the oven. Busy busy busy. And that's when it happened. That's when something in my brain clicked and I scribbled this down on a piece of paper:

what if he's mourning her and she's the one who comes in...

That's all it took and I was off, back on track. Out came the character charts, the outlines. I buzzed to the internet, looking for photos of actors to help me visualize who I wanted in my show. More scribbling, fingers moving faster than my brain. The same Alanis Morissette song on repeat for inspiration for this particular scene. And before I knew it, before lunch, the cold open was rewritten. Funnier, tighter, better. Two characters swiped away, two new ones marched in. Dialogue figured out. Story moving forward.

I can't explain how it happens, no more than a painter can tell me how to move the brush or a doctor the scalpel. But when it happens, it's great. That moment when things start to come together. When I can see actors I don't yet know, walking through the sets in my mind. When their mouths open and words come out, words I never even knew they knew. They have a fight I was not anticipating. Then in walks someone else. A laugh, a movement, a story takes shape.

Writing. I don't really understand how it happens but I'm sure as hell happy when it does.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

A Kick Start

This morning I got up and logged into my email as I do first thing most mornings. It's a bad habit (in my mind) but I always feel like I might have missed something while I was 10 feet away from the computer for the past 8 hours and being on the west coast only intensifies this feeling. And usually? All I've missed in my daily Dilbert delivery and some junk mail. But not this morning...

There hidden in the junk mail was an email from a manager I'd first contacted over three months ago. I'd sent him one of my pilots and asked him to consider me for representation. I'd followed up and he'd claimed to be busy. Life goes on. But this morning? There was that email. And as I clicked it open, I held my breath.

Another rejection. A polite one but still...a rejection.

And yet? Life goes on. I got dressed, made a smoothie, drove Angela to school (today is car servicing day and hers is first up), and then made my way back home and settled in to do some work. I checked the manager off my list, no need to follow up any more. Then I opened some of the blogs I usually read. And I found this little gem from TV writer Ken Levine:
"Someone has to break through. Why not you?"
And that immediately erased the rejection letter feelings I was having. (Well, momentarily, they came back soon enough, never fear.) The manager said he didn't fall in love with the script like he needed to in order to call me in. I get that. It wasn't a script written for him. It was about a 40-something woman firefighter, probably he's not my ideal demographic. I get it.

So...what's next? (one of my favorite President Bartlett lines from The West Wing)

In the two hours since getting rejected, I haven't become a better or worse writer. I haven't even written much (a Neighborhood Watch agenda and some emails don't count, right?). So, after getting back from the smog checks, I'll settle in and open a fresh page and do some writing. And more likely than not, the early morning rejection will inspire me. Maybe one of my characters will be pissed off today. Maybe another will cry. And yet another? She'll probably do something awesome. Because really? Today, I needed the kick start of that email. And the reminder that someone has to break through.

Saturday, June 02, 2012

It wasn't a car backfiring this time

Growing up just outside of Detroit, violence was not a foreign concept to me but it was never in my backyard. We watched the nightly news, read the metro papers and constantly heard talk of shootings and stabbings and standoffs and all things horrible that came out of big cities. This was Detroit in the 80s and 90s mind you. But we didn't live there. We only heard about it. It was different.

When I moved to Yuma, the violence got a little closer. Things happened in our neighborhood, we couldn't walk down the alley between our apartment complex and the grocery store even though it would cut our trip in half. We couldn't drive down certain roads in certain neighborhoods because I had a red car and more importantly, because we were "white girls". We stopped crossing the border to buy the sublime Coca Lite and family gifts in Mexico because we heard too many horror stories of people never coming back. Then some of our middle school students were involved in a fatal shooting at the town mall on Valentine's Day night one year. The violence encroached. But we were still just outside of it.

Tuesday night at 7pm the violence got closer. Way too close. I was sitting in my bedroom, just checking my email, when I heard four pops. I looked out my window and thought to myself it's just a car backfiring. Yep, a car, must be. But then, within seconds, I heard the screams. They were just far enough away that it sounded like I was in a movie or maybe a little underwater but the sound was unmistakable. I said to Angela, what are the odds, a car backfires and then kids scream? We hear kids constantly as we live between an elementary school, a high school and a park. But this was different. And it didn't stop. Then we heard the sirens. So many sirens. And when I looked out the front window I saw the police helicopter that's a familiar sight, do a 180 degree turn in the air and dive bomb our neighborhood.

My first thought was the park. Oh the park. Home to Little League games and softball games and tennis matches and so many kids playing. And that's exactly where it happened. Apparently a gang banger got out of a running car, proceeded to the basketball courts, fired, and fled. Yes, he got away. And the bullets he intended for a rival gang banger? Well, they hit him and two other people there enjoying the park and the Little League games. Because bullets don't know the difference between gang banger scum and plain old citizens. Bullets just injure and kill.

No one was killed Tuesday night, for that I'm so grateful. And according to the police, arrest warrants have been issued for this "isolated incident". But it's still scary, because the violence is here. It's not in Detroit a city we almost never visit. It's not in the gang neighborhood on the other side of the city or border. It's in my backyard. It's close enough that I can hear the gun shots. Still.

This wasn't the first shooting we had in our neighborhood this year. Five people shot since January (four at the park, one at the high school). All injured. There was a shooting last summer that left one man dead just a few feet from the park entrance. There were two stabbings in the park across from the high school a couple of months back. It's close.

And yet? I felt enormous pride and a sense of safety yesterday as we trekked to that very same park and sat on folding chairs with a couple hundred neighbors to hear representatives from the Los Angeles police department, the park police department, the fire department, the mayor's office, the councilman's office and the crisis management team speak. We listened to the police officers we know by name tell us what had happened, what they're doing to help the situation, and how safe we actually are in our neighborhood. Did people believe them? Not really. It's all too fresh. But in time, things will return to normal. And I am confident we'll all be okay.

People spoke last night about gun control and putting up public cameras and stationing armed guards around the park. I sat there and silently shook my head. I wondered where all those people were every month when we meet as a neighborhood watch group and learn how to be safe, get to know the police officers in our city, and try to make our community a better place. I wondered. I wondered how many of them would come back in two weeks for that very meeting.

Was I scared that night? Yes. Was I scared when I drove by the high school yesterday and saw multiple police cars as the clock neared the end of the school day? A little. But was I scared last night when I walked the same steps where that woman laid Tuesday night, shot in the leg? No. As Captain Davis said last night, you can step off any curb and get hit by a car. A crossing guard wouldn't help that. Our community constantly tries to thwart the violence. Thwart the bad eggs. And I love that about us. I love that I know the kids who live here and they know me. I love chatting in the street with neighbors. I love seeing an LAPD car and waving to my friend who's driving it. I love recognizing the fire department captain on site. That takes work, and I'm so glad our community's doing it.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Diary of a P.A.

The first scene of the day
Yep, that's me in the above shot, just to the left of the slate. The picture is of the monitor that the camera fed into on the short film I was working on. I was never supposed to be on camera. So let me explain what happened...

My awesome friend Sonora Chase is an actress and writer and director and she produce to make what she hopes is the first in a long line of her own projects. So she called me up and asked me if I'd be the production assistant, or P.A. (I'd already prefaced that I'd love to help out on set but had less than zero technical knowledge of filming). She said I'd likely work craft services (setting out all the food she got from Costco and making sure that the lunches arrived on time) and keep track of the props she would be using. I agreed immediately.

Last week I got the call sheet, the piece of paper that lists every person who'll be working on the film and when they are to report to set (their call time). Being a part of production, I had the earliest call time each day (the shoot was two days long) and the latest wrap time each night (wrap time is when you are finished). Each day we were scheduled to film for twelve hours on a soundstage called Air Hollywood about thirty minutes north of Los Angeles. I was looking at some long days.

I was excited though, it was the first time I'd ever seen my name on a call sheet. It was the first time I'd ever be involved in the production of any type of film beyond being an extra on Dexter. So off I went Thursday morning. I felt a little like a race car driver on the freeways, everyone else was driving into the city but not me, I was driving out so traffic was very light. Now I know the trick to beating the commute.

Once production started I quickly realized my job as P.A. would be a grabbag of everything which was awesome. Once I got craft services set up and the paperwork organized for the cast and crew I wandered into the main room where we'd be shooting, the airport. I was quickly put to work taping down cords, putting together tripods for lights, moving plants, assembling dollies. And that was all before the actors arrived. Once that happened Sonora asked if I'd be an extra in the scene so they could add some more activity in the background. I went off to makeup, got some really heavy foundation applied, and assumed my "acting" for the next four hours as 'girl on cell phone'. That's right. My job was to sit in the very back of the shot and be on my cell phone, purse on my lap, suitcase in the chair next to me. Boy was that hard! I played Words with Friends. I Tweeted pictures from set. I read proposals from my writers' group. I texted with friends. All in the name of acting. And between shots, I'd jump up to deliver water to the crew, move a camera, et cetera. How fun!

That afternoon I wasn't in the shot so I became the 'slate girl'. I was nervous at first, I didn't know what to say or exactly where to hold the slate that announced what scene we were shooting. But it didn't take long to figure it out. Scene Three Frank, Take Two, Mark. And then I'd snap it shut. Once they heard the snap they knew it was time to yell action.
Me slating my own scene on the plane
By Thursday night I headed home exhausted, made a water and Coke run on the way, ate a quick dinner and fell into bed quickly, all just in time to get back up and do it again Friday. But something dawned on me before I left the house Friday morning. I thought about the film, which was really only about three minutes in length and covered about three hours of time. What if they needed me to be 'girl with cell phone' again? So I threw my stinky clothes in a bag in the back of the car and headed north.

We had a lot more extras on Friday so bagels were served, paperwork was completed and I spent several hours holding the monitor and audio cables as we filmed dolly shots of people boarding a plane. Then we moved into the body of a real airplane. It was very cool to see how the cameras and lights had to maneuver to get the shots. But it worked! And guess what? The DP (Director of Photography) said wouldn't it be cool if I could be in the shot again. I asked if they wanted me in my clothes from yesterday and voila! I was 'girl on cell phone' once again. This time I got to be in on the action a bit more.
Me and Elliot who played a TSA agent in the film, we are sitting in the seat Maya Rudolph occupied in "Bridesmaids"
They seated me next to Sonora, who was playing the lead character Becky. During each shot (and there were at least twenty that we filmed in just a few hours) I had to head to my seat from the aisle, pull up the sweater they told me to have down on my shoulders, straighten my clothes, settle into my seat, and pick up my cell phone. What you won't see? I also had to be the slate girl for each shot! I had do my clapboard thing then run back to my mark (position one in filming lingo). That was fun! (I bet Emmy and Oscar winners don't work that hard!)
This is a shot of me and Jen who played the annoyed flight attendant, she's practicing here
At some point during the blocking (aka planning) for the scene on the plane I leaned over to Sonora and said, "Wouldn't it be funny if when you started your rant in the middle of the scene, I picked up my things and moved over a seat." I said it kind of off-handedly but they loved the idea so I had some more acting to do each take. And then at some point they decided they really liked my reaction to the whole scene so there was a close-up shot of that. I hope it all turns out well, there had been no makeup chair for me that morning and my training only comes from my real life annoyances while on a plane.

We wrapped right on time Friday night and then ran around for an hour packing up lights and props and cleaning. By the time I took off my shoes to drive home, I had blisters on every toe and my hands. Oh, I forgot to mention that! There's a scene in the film where plane passengers are putting their belongings on the conveyor belt to be screened. We've all done it, plop your shoes in the little bin and off they go. Well, the magic here? The conveyor belt didn't work on the soundstage. So you'll see my work on screen but not me in that scene. I'm on my hands and knees pulling the conveyor belt to make it run. Hence, the hand blisters. Too funny! And by the time I made it home Friday night, I was doubly exhausted. But in that awesome way where you know you've earned it. You've run your butt off and you can now sleep for twelve hours.

"Airport Douchery" will be out on Funny or Die soon. I can't wait. And I can't wait to do it all again!

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Our 10-Year Anniversary

Ten years ago today I bought my first car. Yes, I'd had cars before that, I drove my dad's untrusty Ford Tempo during high school and then the used blue Intrepid for years in college and grad school. But I had just graduated with my Masters degree in 2002 and I knew I was about to embark on a wonderful career with a big salary and I was ready to not worry about things like transmissions and new tires and all of the joys that go along with owning a used car. So off to the car dealerships my dad and I went.

I still remember tooling around Lansing, not really finding what I wanted. I knew I wanted an SUV, I actually had dreams of a black Ford Explorer all tricked out after having driven a rental one on a youth group trip. But that was beyond even my dream-filled price range. And then we stopped at the Saturn dealership (oh how I miss Saturn dealerships, my whole family, every one of us a Saturn owner, does). I remember my sales guy, I think his name was Lance. He talked to me, not my dad, and he's the first person who did that. As soon as he knew I was buying the car, I was the customer. I loved that. And the red VUE was the first Saturn I test drove and then Saturn I drove home ten years ago today on a sunny Thursday afternoon.

It took me five years to pay off this car. Five years of writing out $417 checks each month (back when we had the little coupon books - do they still do that?!?!). Five years of not really being sure where or how the money would come in but it always did. I never missed a payment and I'm particularly proud of that. I paid it off and it's mine. These pictures were taken this morning in the driveway. In the last few years I've had some work done, new tires, new battery, new brakes, more new brakes (just last month in fact), even a new back gate latch and blinker but what I love most of all? I still have this car. It's ten years old and it drives well. Sure it squeaks a little when it first gets going but it holds a lot of people, a lot of stuff and a lot of memories. I've driven it from Michigan to Arizona to Texas all the way to San Francisco. I've driven youth group kids and seventh graders and friends and loved ones in this car. I've carried my stuff when I've moved and my stuff when I have to drive two minutes down the road. I'm blessed to have it. And I love that it's red.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Breezes through the window

I spent the last half hour laying on my bed, the window open, a perfect breeze coming in, staring out at this (the picture really doesn't do it justice). I am laying on my giant bed which I love, with the white waffle-y textured bedspread, just like my Grandma MacDonald used to have on her beds. It feels so much like summer. Like perfection. I feel fresh and cleaned by the breeze and happy. Momentarily. While I was staring I was also finishing up a book I've been reading by one of my favorite writers -- Anne Lamott -- called "Some Assembly Required". It's an amazing journey of her first year as a grandmother, something I really cannot relate to, and yet, I totally can. I can relate to her struggles for grace, God's timing, patience, love, understanding, and food. It is an amazing book and I feel blessed to have held it's words close this week. And now that it is done, I am happy and sad. I love that about a book. So much.

It's Tuesday morning. I shouldn't have been lazing around on my bed reading. I should have been doing a million other useful things but I let myself, really forced myself, to take it slow again today. I've been sick again, for over two weeks -- another upper respiratory infection -- and it's taken its toll on my lungs and my energy. I'm so much better now, and so thankful for that but I don't want to jinx it. Because in my mind, that's all it would take, a jinx and I'd be sick again. I'm still fighting my body over the steroids and penicillin from January and I'm finally growing wise to the fact that I have to be kind to my body. It's the only one I have. And I'm partial to it.

As I laid on my bed this morning I kept glancing out the window in the silence of the morning. Before nine a.m. the world is still asleep around here. The kids have all gone off to school, the young adults to work, and all that's left is the silence. I love that. I love that I can think and pray and read and work. Because I am working. So many stories, so many ideas, so much. But it needs to gel, to come together. And that's why I roused myself from my bed (which was made, and I was fully showered and dressed, so no one thinks I'm a terrible bum) and headed to the computer a few steps away.

I don't know what the future holds. I curse that fact every single day. I hate that I don't know what tomorrow will be or what next year will look like. I mourn the fact that I don't have some of the things I want or think I need. But then...

I look out the window, through the rusty bars, at the flowers. I look at the bright blue sky. I smell the purpleness floating in. I feel the breeze hit my legs. And I take a deep breath. And I remember that this moment is all I have. That I am alive. And that's a pretty good start...

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

EIF Revlon 5K - Year 3

Actually, the amount is $2340 and growing! Angela and I were so excited to participate in the EIF/Revlon 5K to fight cancer again this year, our third since we've been in L.A.! Saturday was a glorious day, just a little cool to start but by the end, nearing eighty degrees. We walked with over 30,000 people -- survivors, those left behind, families, kids, celebrities, so many people -- and every step of the way we thought about and prayed for the people we walked for. For the people we support and you support.

I cannot imagine a life with cancer. The struggle. The pain. The tenacity to make it through another day. But I can imagine a life without cancer, a world without cancer. And that's why we walk. For Marilyn. For Grandpa. For each and every single person we love and you love who fights or has fought.

We came home with a few blisters, a little slower step, and two medals. But the reality is we came home simply with hope. When the organizer of the event stood up before the walk and announced that money raised through our efforts has gone to create a new drug that's in trials now, that was amazing. To know that we, us little human beings on this big planet, can affect change? That's what it's all about.

Thank you for donating. Thank you for praying. Thank you for fighting the fight to continue to kick cancer's ass! Together we will!


Sunday, May 13, 2012

Mothers' Day

It's always hard to be away from loved ones on holidays. It's especially hard when you grew up in the same house as those loved ones and spent every day, not just holiday, with them. But you grow up, you make it work, and life goes on. Until something reminds you to stop and remember, stop and feel, stop and spend time.

This morning I woke up to this posting on Facebook:

Thoughts on being a Mom: I feel blessed and I wouldn't have it any other way, or wouldn't have changed a thing...Chris and I both agree we have wonderful children who have found their way in life, care about others and have taken the 'high road'....as Moms we both feel blessed in how our children have matured and it is because there has always been a place for them to come home to with unconditional love....Happy Mother's Day everyone! Thank you Ben, Liz, Sarah and Angela for making us GREAT!!!! - Marilyn
And I instantly played back my last thirty-four years, spent with these two wonderful women, all these wonderful people, and I stopped. I realized that although I am far away from them both, I'm not really. I'm so close. And for that, I am so grateful. Beyond grateful.

Today I got to spend an hour and a half talking with my mom on the phone. I got to hear all about her day and about everything - the big and the little things. I got to just sit on my couch and talk. That was awesome. To me, even though I am thousands of miles away from her and Marilyn, I felt like I'd come home. Just hearing her voice, just being present with her, was all I needed to be reminded of that love. That love that no matter the miles or the circumstances, never goes away.

So today, and every single day, I thank God for my mom, for Marilyn, for my family - far and close. And I remember how very lucky I am.

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.