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.
Monday, April 30, 2012
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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!",
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.
Monday, March 26, 2012
The Hunger Games got me thinking...
This weekend Angela and I (and most of the people I know and most of the people in North America) went to see "The Hunger Games". We'd bought our tickets several weeks ago, chosen prime seats (back row, middle - which is rare for us because we usually do end) and decided to spend a few extra bucks to see the movie on IMAX.
It was worth it. The theater was full on Saturday morning at 9:30 and you could hear a pin drop in the place. No cell phone screens lighting up the audience, no whispers, etc. (a few people got up to go to the bathroom periodically - seriously, why buy a $10 extra-large Coke at the movies?!?!?!). It was a great viewing experience, and one we'd been looking forward to. And it got me thinking...
Books and movies and television and outside entertainment has become such an integral part of our lives that we carry it with us (see the iPhone 4s I purchased this weekend as exhibit number one). And granted, my vision is probably very skewed because of the amount of my days I spend writing screenplays but I still wonder, what did people look forward to 100 years ago. Or even 50 years ago. I mean, in our house we've already anticipating the final Twilight movie that will come out in November. So...
Are our priorities messed up? Or are times just different? Has television replaced the radio or even community gatherings of song? I don't know. I just know it's been weighing on my mind lately.
I miss the people in my life. In Los Angeles I often feel so far removed from everyone and everything that at times I feel like I'm living my life via electronics and postal system. Instead of birthday hugs I send messages and maybe a card. Instead of long dinner conversations, I watch yet another television show to determine if it's the right show for me to write. I'm not depressed, I'm just starting to think, to wonder, what's next. Is it here? Is it there? I don't know.
I love movies and books and television shows because they take me, even if only for a short while, to another place. I can't imagine life without these comforts or indulgences. And yet...I wonder...
It was worth it. The theater was full on Saturday morning at 9:30 and you could hear a pin drop in the place. No cell phone screens lighting up the audience, no whispers, etc. (a few people got up to go to the bathroom periodically - seriously, why buy a $10 extra-large Coke at the movies?!?!?!). It was a great viewing experience, and one we'd been looking forward to. And it got me thinking...
Books and movies and television and outside entertainment has become such an integral part of our lives that we carry it with us (see the iPhone 4s I purchased this weekend as exhibit number one). And granted, my vision is probably very skewed because of the amount of my days I spend writing screenplays but I still wonder, what did people look forward to 100 years ago. Or even 50 years ago. I mean, in our house we've already anticipating the final Twilight movie that will come out in November. So...
Are our priorities messed up? Or are times just different? Has television replaced the radio or even community gatherings of song? I don't know. I just know it's been weighing on my mind lately.
I miss the people in my life. In Los Angeles I often feel so far removed from everyone and everything that at times I feel like I'm living my life via electronics and postal system. Instead of birthday hugs I send messages and maybe a card. Instead of long dinner conversations, I watch yet another television show to determine if it's the right show for me to write. I'm not depressed, I'm just starting to think, to wonder, what's next. Is it here? Is it there? I don't know.
I love movies and books and television shows because they take me, even if only for a short while, to another place. I can't imagine life without these comforts or indulgences. And yet...I wonder...
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Happy Birthday, Elaine!
You know how sometimes you have those people in your life who've just always been there? There was no beginning to the relationship, it started long before you were ever a part of the picture. In my life, one of those very important people is Elaine. And today I was so happy to be able to talk to her on the phone and wish her a very happy 84th birthday.
Elaine has been my other grandmother for as long as I've been alive. Related to my family on my mom's side, my grandpa's cousin technically, we've been family forever. We've celebrated vacations and holidays and weddings and deaths. And to me, Elaine has been more than she may ever realize.
Since I moved to California, even to Arizona before that, I've realized how important it is to keep the people I cherish close whether it's through a letter, a card, a visit or a quick call. And ever since my grandma died last April, it's become even clearer to me that life goes by so quickly, too quickly, and that we will never have enough time to spend with the people we love. Our people.
I am so thankful for Elaine in my life, for her sharing her family and herself with us Yankees all these years (Elaine is of the Canadian relative-side). I'm thankful for her unconditional love and caring, for her soft voice and her big hugs. I'm thankful that I've got her to dote on now that grandma is gone.
So happy birthday, Elaine! I'm glad you got cake today and I can't wait to take you to lunch this summer!
Elaine has been my other grandmother for as long as I've been alive. Related to my family on my mom's side, my grandpa's cousin technically, we've been family forever. We've celebrated vacations and holidays and weddings and deaths. And to me, Elaine has been more than she may ever realize.
Since I moved to California, even to Arizona before that, I've realized how important it is to keep the people I cherish close whether it's through a letter, a card, a visit or a quick call. And ever since my grandma died last April, it's become even clearer to me that life goes by so quickly, too quickly, and that we will never have enough time to spend with the people we love. Our people.
I am so thankful for Elaine in my life, for her sharing her family and herself with us Yankees all these years (Elaine is of the Canadian relative-side). I'm thankful for her unconditional love and caring, for her soft voice and her big hugs. I'm thankful that I've got her to dote on now that grandma is gone.
So happy birthday, Elaine! I'm glad you got cake today and I can't wait to take you to lunch this summer!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Ten on Tuesday
Ten things I am thankful for today…
1.
Funny and interesting podcasts that keep me
engaged while I work.
2.
That Angela has found an acupuncturist who can
help her manage her migraines, and who’s become an amazing friend to both of
us.
3.
“Get Fuzzy” collections that make me laugh and
laugh and laugh. Reading a few pages always puts a smile on my face.
4.
That I have a job and Angela has a job, even
though they aren’t the ones we want, because 9500 more LAUSD employees are
getting laid off this month.
5.
My Growth Group (aka Bible study group) at
church. We’ve been studying the book of Romans for months now and we’re still
going strong and we keep finding little tangents to go off on (this week was
what exactly is the Holy Spirit). I love those 85 minutes each Sunday morning.
6.
My writers’ group who are really excited about
my new baseball pilot. They’re excitement and questions keep me seated at my
desk when I so don’t want to be here.
7.
People who go out and do things to make their lives
happen. My friend Margy self-published her first novel this past month and that
is so inspiring.
8.
Daylight Savings Time. I’m probably the only one
who loves the jumping forward and losing an hour because I love love love that
it’s light past five o’clock at night. It feels like I got the coolest gift of
time!
9.
The 13 people who’ve contributed to the Revlon5K I’m walking to kick cancer’s butt. I’ve raised $505 dollars so far and it’s
still almost two months away!
10. Wool
socks. Yep, even in Los Angeles my feet get chilly.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
An early round (i.e., the rough life in Los Angeles)
Another first in California: actually playing golf, not just hitting golf balls!
Yep, that's right, this morning I got up before the sun and found my way to Rancho golf course down on Pico Boulevard, before 6 a.m., which is pretty darn early. And although I was anxious about the whole adventure, it turned out very very well. But let me back up...
When Angela and I went to hit golf balls with Susan she suggested I might like to play a round of golf with her husband some Saturday morning. I smiled and nodded, thinking I really would not like to do that at all. It's not that her husband didn't seem like a very nice man or that I didn't want to actually play golf with my own golf clubs for the first time in four years, it's just that I get really nervous when I'm playing golf with anyone who isn't related to me (i.e., my dad, my mom or Angela). And I've been that way since...well, since high school.
See in high school I played on the golf team, earning my Varsity letter freshman year, and wound up as co-captain by my junior year. And while it was great fun and I have tons of good memories and stories to share, even got my picture and name in the paper a bunch of times, it was an agonizing experience in many ways. Basically, I figured out that the stress of competitive sports just wasn't for me. Especially competitive high school GIRL sports. (Newsflash - girls can be mean, and their parents, sometimes just as mean, and coaches, sometimes meaner.) So for a while, I put away the golf clubs. And then, when I decided to go away to college my junior year, I got out the name of the college coach who'd tried to recruit me my senior year. And off I went to play golf for Olivet College which was really a whole other experience, a much much more positive one. And just like that, my love of golf came back.
But golf is an expensive sport and one that requires large blocks of free time and in California, Angela and I just never got around to it. Sure I play constantly every summer in Michigan but today was different. Today I was going out to play with two people, two older men, I didn't know from Adam. And although I debated it heavily, worried obsessively, and barely slept last night, off I went this morning. But why such the big rigamarole, you might ask? Well, this wasn't just a game of golf. This was also a networking opportunity. See, my manager, AKA Angela, is always trying to get my name out there, and I so appreciate that. So she told her co-worker what I do, and what I am trying to do, here in Hollywood and bam!, all of a sudden they decided I just had to play golf with these two men, the husband and his friend, who works in The Business.
And really, how could I turn that down? Networking has been my number one goal this year, trying to get a script sold, trying to get a job, trying to meet people who can help me with my career. And this week I've been on a roll. I had lunch with a friend who helped connect me with some people and I talked to another friend about a meeting. So now back to the golf game. I had to go...and yet...
So I went. To my networking golf game at six o'clock in the morning. And it went fine. I always dread that first tee shot. If only it goes well, then the rest of the round can be so-so, I pray. If only I don't whiff the ball. If only, if only, if only...And guess what? I did not whiff the ball! It was a good, not great, first shot. And it got better, then a little worse, then great, then okay, and just like the gentlemen I was playing with, I had a pretty good round of golf.
We played nine holes, the back nine at Rancho, and the two plus hours went quickly and were a lot of fun. It was a great walk, a good workout to carry my clubs which I haven't done in years, and I laughed a lot and overall, just enjoyed the beautiful day. And they were very nice to me, the girl they really didn't know, who did not 'just miss the LPGA tour' as they might have heard. We played from the white tees, we took a couple of mulligans for fun, and on the 18th hole, the guys made me go to the brick bench and read the plaque dedicated to Arnold Palmer.
Apparently, back in 1961 when Arnold Palmer played the L.A. Open at Rancho, he shot a 12 on the 18th hole which is a par five. So they decided that today, we should play from the black tees for just this hole. And off we went! It was a long hole, with out of bounds on the left and the driving range on the right (and balls kept coming through the mesh fence, a lot of them!) and I managed to get in my only sandtrap of the day but by the end, I was pretty happy that we all shot only two over on the hole!
Afterwards, I gave each of the guys one of my cards, and told them to keep me in mind for future foursomes, and off I went. Living through, and enjoying, my first official California round of golf, and my first official networking meeting on the course!
Yep, that's right, this morning I got up before the sun and found my way to Rancho golf course down on Pico Boulevard, before 6 a.m., which is pretty darn early. And although I was anxious about the whole adventure, it turned out very very well. But let me back up...
When Angela and I went to hit golf balls with Susan she suggested I might like to play a round of golf with her husband some Saturday morning. I smiled and nodded, thinking I really would not like to do that at all. It's not that her husband didn't seem like a very nice man or that I didn't want to actually play golf with my own golf clubs for the first time in four years, it's just that I get really nervous when I'm playing golf with anyone who isn't related to me (i.e., my dad, my mom or Angela). And I've been that way since...well, since high school.
See in high school I played on the golf team, earning my Varsity letter freshman year, and wound up as co-captain by my junior year. And while it was great fun and I have tons of good memories and stories to share, even got my picture and name in the paper a bunch of times, it was an agonizing experience in many ways. Basically, I figured out that the stress of competitive sports just wasn't for me. Especially competitive high school GIRL sports. (Newsflash - girls can be mean, and their parents, sometimes just as mean, and coaches, sometimes meaner.) So for a while, I put away the golf clubs. And then, when I decided to go away to college my junior year, I got out the name of the college coach who'd tried to recruit me my senior year. And off I went to play golf for Olivet College which was really a whole other experience, a much much more positive one. And just like that, my love of golf came back.
But golf is an expensive sport and one that requires large blocks of free time and in California, Angela and I just never got around to it. Sure I play constantly every summer in Michigan but today was different. Today I was going out to play with two people, two older men, I didn't know from Adam. And although I debated it heavily, worried obsessively, and barely slept last night, off I went this morning. But why such the big rigamarole, you might ask? Well, this wasn't just a game of golf. This was also a networking opportunity. See, my manager, AKA Angela, is always trying to get my name out there, and I so appreciate that. So she told her co-worker what I do, and what I am trying to do, here in Hollywood and bam!, all of a sudden they decided I just had to play golf with these two men, the husband and his friend, who works in The Business.
And really, how could I turn that down? Networking has been my number one goal this year, trying to get a script sold, trying to get a job, trying to meet people who can help me with my career. And this week I've been on a roll. I had lunch with a friend who helped connect me with some people and I talked to another friend about a meeting. So now back to the golf game. I had to go...and yet...
So I went. To my networking golf game at six o'clock in the morning. And it went fine. I always dread that first tee shot. If only it goes well, then the rest of the round can be so-so, I pray. If only I don't whiff the ball. If only, if only, if only...And guess what? I did not whiff the ball! It was a good, not great, first shot. And it got better, then a little worse, then great, then okay, and just like the gentlemen I was playing with, I had a pretty good round of golf.
We played nine holes, the back nine at Rancho, and the two plus hours went quickly and were a lot of fun. It was a great walk, a good workout to carry my clubs which I haven't done in years, and I laughed a lot and overall, just enjoyed the beautiful day. And they were very nice to me, the girl they really didn't know, who did not 'just miss the LPGA tour' as they might have heard. We played from the white tees, we took a couple of mulligans for fun, and on the 18th hole, the guys made me go to the brick bench and read the plaque dedicated to Arnold Palmer.
Apparently, back in 1961 when Arnold Palmer played the L.A. Open at Rancho, he shot a 12 on the 18th hole which is a par five. So they decided that today, we should play from the black tees for just this hole. And off we went! It was a long hole, with out of bounds on the left and the driving range on the right (and balls kept coming through the mesh fence, a lot of them!) and I managed to get in my only sandtrap of the day but by the end, I was pretty happy that we all shot only two over on the hole!
Afterwards, I gave each of the guys one of my cards, and told them to keep me in mind for future foursomes, and off I went. Living through, and enjoying, my first official California round of golf, and my first official networking meeting on the course!
Monday, March 05, 2012
Angela's all official now!
Guess what came in the mail today?
Yep, that's right, she's all official now folks.
Presenting Angela Knapp, National Board Certified Teacher!
See, there are still awesome teachers out there! Congrats again, Angela!!! So proud of you!!!
Yep, that's right, she's all official now folks.
Presenting Angela Knapp, National Board Certified Teacher!
See, there are still awesome teachers out there! Congrats again, Angela!!! So proud of you!!!
Monday, February 27, 2012
Finally, 'fore!' in California!
Saturday was a beautiful day in Los Angeles. It was 66 degrees and sunny. Perfect golf weather made even better by the knowledge that there had been a snowstorm in the east the day before. So when a co-worker of Angela's found out we had never played golf, never even hit balls, in California, she decided Saturday would be the day to remedy that.
It's true, even though we've lived in California almost four years, I've never swung a club here. I moved my clubs around in the garage and thought about it many a time but life always got in the way. But guess what? There's this pretty famous public golf course just a few miles from our house down Pico Boulevard right across from Fox Studios. I drive by it numerous times a week. I watch people in golf wear, people in sweat pants, people who can't hit the ball, people who probably should be across the street working, all playing but until this weekend, it had never been me.
So off we went on Saturday. Our new friend Susan and her husband are golfers and she grew up just down the street from "Rancho" so she showed us the ropes. The place was packed, as it is most days, but we managed to get two stalls next to each other after only a few minutes. Between us we hit a couple hundred golf balls (I have the blisters still healing on my hands to prove it) and had so much fun. We had brunch at a nearby restaurant after and just reveled in the idea of being in Southern California in February, playing golf.
And we found out several members of our Bible study are golfers so I sense another outing soon...
It's true, even though we've lived in California almost four years, I've never swung a club here. I moved my clubs around in the garage and thought about it many a time but life always got in the way. But guess what? There's this pretty famous public golf course just a few miles from our house down Pico Boulevard right across from Fox Studios. I drive by it numerous times a week. I watch people in golf wear, people in sweat pants, people who can't hit the ball, people who probably should be across the street working, all playing but until this weekend, it had never been me.
So off we went on Saturday. Our new friend Susan and her husband are golfers and she grew up just down the street from "Rancho" so she showed us the ropes. The place was packed, as it is most days, but we managed to get two stalls next to each other after only a few minutes. Between us we hit a couple hundred golf balls (I have the blisters still healing on my hands to prove it) and had so much fun. We had brunch at a nearby restaurant after and just reveled in the idea of being in Southern California in February, playing golf.
And we found out several members of our Bible study are golfers so I sense another outing soon...
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Second Lenten devotional of the season
The second Lenten devotion I wrote that appears in the Hollywood United Methodist Church booklet:
Mark 1:9-15
Jesus was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan;
and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.
There’s a comment in my Student Bible that says Jesus preferred rural and small-town areas and spent amost two-thirds of his working
life in the remote northern regions. I really like the picture of Jesus this
paints in my mind. He loved small towns and he loved spending time with people,
one-on-one and in small groups. Yes, he spoke to larger groups as well but most
of the stories we know of Him tell of Him with just a handful of people.
I love small towns. I grew up in one. I moved to an even
smaller town for college. Then I moved to a relatively small town in Arizona.
And yet, here I am in Los Angeles, the second largest city in America. And yes,
at some point every day, I ask myself why.
The answer? Because there is the potential here to affect
change, to be bigger than oneself, to make a mark not just on my small corner
of life but on the world. And I sense Jesus knew that as well. And yet…I find
myself wondering what it would be like to be in the wilderness with Jesus. Not
necessarily to be tempted or spend time with the wild beasts but to spend time
with my Lord, one-on-one, in quietness.
So can we do both? Spend quiet time “in the wilderness” with
God and yet live in the big city? Yes, I believe so. And often times, it’s
after coming home from that wilderness that we are able to see things so much
more clearly. After Jesus left the desert he proclaimed the news: “The kingdom
of God is near. Repent and believe the good news!” And hopefully, after
spending time in the wilderness, whether it be while being tempted or just
quietly contemplating life with our Savior, we all will come out proclaiming
the good news of Lent and the Resurrection.
Prayer:
God, please help us to realize that the wilderness can be a
place of growth and rejuvination no matter the trials we may face before or
during. Amen.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
First Lenten devotional of the season
The first Lenten devotion I wrote that appears in the Hollywood United Methodist Church booklet:
Joel 2:13
Joel 2:13
Return to the Lord, your God, for God is gracious and
merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.
The beginning of verse 13 says to “rend your heart and not
your garments.” In the time of Joel, people tore their robes as a outward sign
of remorse but that isn’t what God wanted. He wanted people to change. He
wanted people, honestly and with their whole hearts, to come to Him, to be
broken in front of Him. And I’m pretty sure that’s what He still wants from us
today.
God doesn’t care whether or not we go to church, wear a
cross around our neck, or carry our Bibles through town. He never has and yet,
so many people still to this day, believe that’s what matters most. That if you
act like you’re a Christian, you love Jesus more and in turn, He’ll love you
more.
But that’s not true. What’s true is that God’s love is
available for the taking. It’s right there, no matter what we’ve done or not
done to deserve it. “God is kind and merciful. He takes a deep breath, puts up
with a lot. This most patient God, extravagant in love, always ready to cancel
catastrophe” (The Message).
I like the image of God taking a deep breath. He’s patient,
like our parents were when we were younger and just learning how to do things.
He’s trying to teach us how to love Him. How to accept His love. He’s reminding
us that no matter what, He’ll be there. He’ll never leave, never give up.
Lent is a season of preparing. Preparing for the death and
resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. But it’s also a season of hope. A season
that ends with an amazing sacrifice and the most awesome display of love any of
us could ever hope to receive. Believe in it. Rejoice in it. Celebrate it. Live
it.
Prayer
Lord Jesus, help us to change on the inside, not just on the
outside. Help us to accept your love and then share it with others. Amen.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Taking action because cancer sucks
Cancer sucks.
That's about it, right? If you know anyone who's had cancer, is fighting cancer, or who has lost the battle, you get it. You know just how much cancer sucks.
But guess what? There's something we can do about. You and me. We're able to walk, we're able to run, we're about to give $5 or $500 and try to help find the cure. Because it's out there. You know it. I know it. The people in our lives fighting the fight believe in it.
For me, participating in the EIF/Revlon 5K isn't just about raising money. It's about raising a voice. It's about yelling, as loud as we possibly can, that we want to do something about this problem. We want to show the people in our lives we care enough to put our money where our mouth is, so to speak. It's about taking action.
If you are able, please consider donating here. If you're so inclined, say a prayer for Marilyn and Jim, the two people I walk in honor of. If you're interested, read more on why I walk here, here and here.
And thank you. For giving this fight a voice. For taking action.
That's about it, right? If you know anyone who's had cancer, is fighting cancer, or who has lost the battle, you get it. You know just how much cancer sucks.
But guess what? There's something we can do about. You and me. We're able to walk, we're able to run, we're about to give $5 or $500 and try to help find the cure. Because it's out there. You know it. I know it. The people in our lives fighting the fight believe in it.
For me, participating in the EIF/Revlon 5K isn't just about raising money. It's about raising a voice. It's about yelling, as loud as we possibly can, that we want to do something about this problem. We want to show the people in our lives we care enough to put our money where our mouth is, so to speak. It's about taking action.
2011 |
And thank you. For giving this fight a voice. For taking action.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
The Lint Trap
Last year a former co-worker of mine from Arizona invited me to join a Facebook group she'd created. She and another online friend had decided to give up FB games for Lent and write instead. So they created the FB group which we loving call the LINT trap now and we were each challenged to write for 40 days in a row. Most of us (there are around 20 members) met the challenge. I wrote every single day of Lent last year even the day my Grandmother died and the day we buried her. Those days were short little sentences and phrases, maybe a paragraph but I wrote. Because I am a writer. Runners run. Smokers smoke. Writers write.
As we come up this week to the one-year anniversary of our LINT trap, a member posed some questions as we get ready for our next 40-day challenge. Below are my answers to her questions and my own ramblings about writing during Lent and every other day of the year.
As a Methodist I grew up without the concept of giving
something up for Lent unless you were Catholic then it seemed the only
difference was you ate fish on Fridays. But my family never ate fish so it
didn't really affect me. In college I think I tried the giving up thing but it
never felt right. Usually I try to 'do' something instead - spend the time in
extra study or whatnot. I am not sure this year; I am all over the place
spiritually, mentally.
Why do I write? I write because I don't know what else to
do. I've always written. I can still see the first top-bound spiral legal pad I
picked out at Wal-mart and filled. Then the next. It's just who I am. Some
people date inappropriate men. Some people tell bad jokes. Some people make
really good banana bread. Some people do surgery on brains. I write. And I
don't know how to stop. I don't know what I would do if I had to. In fact, the other
night, I thought about stopping. At least stopping the journey to write
professionally. I said the words out loud - "I'm done". There was
talk of packing boxes and getting a job as a secretary somewhere innocuous. And
then I started hyperventilating and shaking and it was horrible. I had this
physical reaction (and I am sure some of that is still the emotions of the
whole last month but...). So that's that. I just can't stop. I can't.
Physically or emotionally. Because apparently if I try, I freak out. Physically
and emotionally.
And here's the weird part (at least it seems weird to me):
trying to squeeze my soul out through my fingers never scares me. Writing my
novel, never afraid. Writing script after script or blog post or devotional,
never afraid. Living life every day, making grown up decisions, dealing with people:
fear. Lots of it. But when writing? Never. And that tells me all I need to
know. That being a writer is who I am and what I should do, what I have to do.
And yes, I often feel like someone, mostly the characters, is
speaking through me. I don't really feel like its God or some higher being, I
just feel like it's the stories themselves, they're begging to come out, and
when they do sometimes I don't recognize them. I wrote a short story in
college about a car accident. In it a girl realizes that she'll never be the
same because the boy she loved but never told dies. When my writers' group read
it, they all thought it was my story. It wasn't, it was that character's. Same
goes for scripts - I just type the words. The voices, the truths, they come
from some greater place, some place far away. I'm just the reporter. And I love
it. Every single moment of it. Even when I hate it. I love it.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Where will I hang my lanterns?
![]() | ||
Aaron Sorkin & Steve Zaillian |
This week I've been working, not writing per say, but rewriting, editing, and proofreading. And while, to the average person, that may not seem like a big job or even much work at all, I have to say -- it is. It really is. As I go back through my portfolio and read scripts I wrote almost three years ago and scripts I wrote three months ago, I see how much I have changed, how much I have grown as a writer. It's not visible to the novice eye but to me, I feel it in my bones.
One thing Aaron Sorkin said last night stayed with me and I rushed home to write it down before I could forget (because while I can write all the words in the world, I cannot memorize them to save my soul).
Get to the end of what you're writing and start again. Then figure out what to hang your lanterns from.To me, that was the essence of what the writing process is all about -- rewriting. It's about getting my stories out there, down on paper, so I can see what I have to work with. Then it's about the cutting, the piecing back together, the figuring out what's best, what works (that's where you want your lanterns) and what doesn't.
And I realized, that's what I've been doing this week. I haven't been creating anything new. I haven't started a fresh spec or a spankin' new pilot. I haven't freewritten or crafted dialogue. But I have started again. I've been going over and over what I have to make it better. To make it the best.
And to me, that's what life's all about. Doing our best, doing everything we can until we can't do anything more. Because if that's not what it's all about, then why even try?
Monday, February 13, 2012
Normal is good
Three weeks ago today I was in the ER. Part of me feels like it was a lifetime ago and part of me feels like it was just yesterday. It's been a really long three weeks (just ask Angela: the best sister/friend/nurse a girl could ever ask for). I had to first recover from the allergic reaction that sent me to the ER. Then I had to recover from the drugs and treatments they gave me in the ER. Then I had to recover from the drugs they sent me home with and I took for over a week afterwards. Then I had to deal with the panic attacks and the exhaustion and the fear. And all of that isn't gone yet. This weekend I had a hard time both Saturday and Sunday. My brain still insists on practicing swallowing which in turn, causes pain and irritation when I swallow which starts the anxiety again. It's quite the circle and most of it happens in my brain. It's a lot to deal with but deal I am. I keep reminding myself I am fine and I will be fine. I am lucky and blessed and grateful and all that. All of that.
Last Wednesday I went for my first walk post ER. I walked to Angela's school, we went to lunch, and then I walked back home. The 50 minute (or less if I push it) round trip took me over an hour. My lungs burned a bit on the way up the hill from our house toward Olympic Boulevard. But overall, it felt good. Really good. Oh, and on top of it all, I'm still dealing with the lingering cough/cold/sinus infection that inspired all of this drama. But it felt good.
This morning I got up and walked 45 minutes. I stretched and kicked and moved my arms and legs and worked out. And it felt normal, which is way better than good. Way better.
Three weeks. Three weeks. Some of it's a blur. Me on the couch, sleeping, drinking drinking drinking. So much water to flush it all out. Some of it's very clear. Me trying not to itch. Me trying to calm down.
Three weeks. I am so thankful to be moving on. To have a normal day today. To workout, to do laundry, to go to work, to make dinner, to write. Normal is good. Today is good.
Last Wednesday I went for my first walk post ER. I walked to Angela's school, we went to lunch, and then I walked back home. The 50 minute (or less if I push it) round trip took me over an hour. My lungs burned a bit on the way up the hill from our house toward Olympic Boulevard. But overall, it felt good. Really good. Oh, and on top of it all, I'm still dealing with the lingering cough/cold/sinus infection that inspired all of this drama. But it felt good.
This morning I got up and walked 45 minutes. I stretched and kicked and moved my arms and legs and worked out. And it felt normal, which is way better than good. Way better.
Three weeks. Three weeks. Some of it's a blur. Me on the couch, sleeping, drinking drinking drinking. So much water to flush it all out. Some of it's very clear. Me trying not to itch. Me trying to calm down.
Three weeks. I am so thankful to be moving on. To have a normal day today. To workout, to do laundry, to go to work, to make dinner, to write. Normal is good. Today is good.
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