Friday Fun Night Revisited

This photo makes my heart sing. Back when I was just starting Grad School and Angela was a sophomore at Western Michigan University, we decided that we wanted to have something to do on Friday nights that didn't involve going out and partying. We wanted to meet new people and have fun and do it on campus, at the Wesley Foundation where Angela was a peer minister. So we started Friday Fun Night. At first we didn't get a lot of response but Angela and I showed up to Wesley at 7pm on a Friday night anyway and waited. And guess who was the first person to walk in the door? Joe (see the guy above in the orange shirt). Joe who over a decade later would be sitting in our kitchen on a Friday night, playing games again. I love that so much. So much.

Joe and his wife have recently moved back to Michigan and we rounded up Rick and Eric and Susie (all pictured above) and had dinner this week. We laughed and shared stories and caught up on lives (Facebook doesn't do justice to what's been going on over the past 7 years since we'd seen Rick and Joe) and had a great time meeting Joe and Amanda's one and a half year old son.

Eleven years ago I never would have dreamed that friendships started over board games in a church rec room would still live on so strongly. I'm so so thankful for that. And for all of these people in my life!

Christmas!

Whew! It has been a busy couple of weeks. We had the Christmas tea, we had our day trips, we had multiple family Christmases, we had parties and celebrations and worship services and time with the little ones. We had baking and cooking and shopping and wrapping and gift giving and receiving. We had such fun. And then on Christmas morning, I woke everyone up at 5:45am! (Yes, I waited 45 minutes after I woke up!) We had a great time and a great day. But whew, it has been a whirlwind. That's why the day after Christmas we were so excited to spend the day in PJs (aka, the new Red Wings thermals we'd all gotten) watching movies, playing games and reading new books (and yes, napping). But it has been a good vacation regardless of the pace. And tomorrow we head to Canada to visit family! 2012 is going out with a bang!

Gleaners

Last Saturday, December 22nd, Angela, my mom, my dad and I headed to a small industrial park just outside of Howell. There we found a door in the back and entered a large warehouse. Inside? Gleaners Food Bank. Now, I've been to food banks before, worked at many in college and grad school, et cetera. But this one was a bit different. Set up like a grocery store, with scales instead of cash registers, it's designed to look like any other store. The difference? People make appointments to shop and get so many pounds of food based on their need. They shop on average 4 to 6 times a year and popular items include peanut butter, jelly, soup, boxed milk, and fresh pastries. This time of year there's also candy for stocking stuffers and toys for the kids.

It was an interesting experience, one I'm so glad we could have. My parents have worked at Gleaners before, in the fall, with a church group, and talked so highly of their experience I couldn't wait to get a chance to go too. While there we stocked shelves, helped bag groceries and check people out, and do just whatever needed to be done. We got to empty some of the donation bins from the local schools (side note: if you ever find yourself donating to these bins, consider donating a case of something - a case is much easier to shelve and display than several single cans of different things). I enjoyed the time because we weren't doing just one job - we were milling about, taking ownership of different tasks, helping the customers, chatting with the other volunteers. But most of all? I'm glad that there are places like Gleaners, places where families who need help can get help. Places where the mom with the toddler can stock up on milk and cans of beef stew. Places where the couple can get fresh squash to make soup for Christmas Eve. Places where there are donuts sprinkled red and green for the father to take home for Christmas morning. I'm so glad.

Christmastime fun

Angela and I flew into Detroit Saturday afternoon for three weeks at home. And while it's only Wednesday afternoon now, we've already knocked out a ton of our to-do list and had so much fun. We've shopped and shopped. We've baked and assembled. We've had the candlelight Christmas Tea at church, we've worshipped twice at Howell UMC. We've seen the grandneighbors in the Catholic school Christmas program. We've toured the Dodge house at Meadow Brook. We've walked through Rochester Hills and looked at the lights and eaten a yummy meal at an Irish pub. We've seen the grandparents, all three, and we've hugged tons of friends. We've even squeaked in some wrapping and singing and last night we got to watch the family favorite: National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. We all laugh every year at the same jokes until we cry. Such fun. And Christmas is still a week away! Whew!

My Advent Devotion

Here's the devotion I wrote for the Hollywood UMC Advent Devotion Booklet for today:

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Luke 1:26-31

We’re all familiar with the story of how the angel Gabriel was sent by God to tell Mary the good news. She had found favor with God and would give birth to a son who’s name would be Jesus. And I think we’re all familiar with being surprised by news ourselves, whether it be a scary health diagnosis, a promotion at work, a wrench thrown in our plans or even a new relationship. But what we’re likely less familiar with is the sense of control we can feel in such a situation.

Gabriel told Mary not to be afraid. He wanted to make sure she knew right away that she was loved, that the Lord was with her. Often times people talk about giving over control to God in tough situations, relying on His will, whatever it is. But I think this passage is a reminder that really, we’re the ones with control in these situations. We’re the ones who heed God’s call, we’re the ones who make the conscious choice to say a prayer, to ask God for help, to be comforted by His words and His love. Mary didn’t have to believe that the Lord was with her in that moment but she did; she made the choice to believe.

Every day we’re faced with millions of choices. What to eat for breakfast, what to watch on television, whether or not to take a drink or say a hurtful word. And this Advent season, we get to make another choice. We get to decide whether or not we’ll be comforted by the baby that’s about to be born, by the baby who will be called Jesus. We get to decide how we celebrate His impending arrival. We get to make the choice to believe. And that’s really all there is to it: belief that God loves us, belief that He sent his Son to die for us, belief that Good will always win out over Bad. So it’s up to you, what do you choose?

Dear Lord,

Thank you for free will and the opportunity to choose You. Amen.

Merry Christmas 2012

Angela found a gorgeous set of Christmas cards online this fall - all designs made with things found near the sea: rope, shells, sticks, etc. They were made by a local photographer but they were expensive. That didn't matter, she had her own idea. We copy the idea, the theme, and make our own! So...

Off we went! The week before Thanksgiving we headed out to the beach, Venice Beach specifically, on a bright and sunny and cold Monday morning (Presidents' Day, in fact). We collected things to take with us, some rope from the garage, some Santa hats we'd used at the children's AIDS clinic last year, and I purchased some shells and starfish at a craft shop. We wrapped an empty box and used a 99 cent bow to decorate it and Voila! instant photography shoot props!

The day was sunny and crisp and perfect. We used the digital camera I got for Christmas last year (a little point and shoot) and our iPhones as back up. We took 146 pictures. Way more than necessary but it was perfect, we had a lot to pick from when we got home.

All in all the shoot lasted about an hour. We got sand everywhere, we laughed a lot and we even had several offers from fellow beachgoers to take our picture together which was very sweet (even though the photo we ended up using is one taken by me on my iPhone). A very good day. And a beautiful result, if I do say so myself. I'm so glad Angela had the idea and we were able to execute it easily and perfectly. So Merry Christmas from us to you!
xoxo

Once Upon a Christmas 2012

Last year my church, Hollywood UMC, put on the first annual "Once Upon a Christmas", an afternoon of storytelling and music. There were five of us who each took turns sitting on a stool in Grant Hall, George played the guitar and there were maybe 50 people present. We told stories and laughed and teared up and smiled. It was a great December afternoon.

Well, this year, they decided to do it again. But on a Saturday night. With us storytellers at the front of the sanctuary with microphones and a 30-member choir behind us. George was still there with his guitar, and the stories were the same (you can read mine here, on last year's blog) but the event? Very different. We had a host, Pauley Perrette from NCIS (and a member of our church), we also had cookies afterward arranged by the fabulous Angela and we had a rehearsal. And cues. And we had to remember when to go where and we did our very own "Saturday Night Live' ending with us on stage waving goodbye. Quite the night.

It really was a great event, we had a good turn out (though we'd have liked more we had about 150 people, 180 if you count the choir) and most of all? We had a great time, all for a great cause (we raised money for the Homeless Lunch program on Tuesdays at church). And I have to say, I really did like performing. I wasn't nervous at all, I loved the comradeship that comes with putting on a show and being in it together. It was also so fun to make people laugh and to have people, even the next day at church, quote my story back to me ("when televisions were the size of Priuses") and tell me how I inspired them to make their own "tree of boys" (do I know my audience or what?!?!). 

Am I going to become a performer? No. Wearing heels all night wasn't great fun. Sitting around waiting for rehearsals? Over it. But actually performing? Amazing. I'm a writer and so just getting to share my work (because I read my story, there was no memorization involved) with others, and make them smile and laugh was something very special for me. Very special. 

Angela's Advent Devotion

It's Guest Blogger Day! Here's the advent devotion Angela wrote for our church's advent booklet:

Advent Devotional for Sunday, December 9
Scripture: Luke 3:1-6

…the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.
He went into all the region around the Jordan,

proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,
as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,
‘The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
“Prepare the way of the Lord…”

======================================

John the Baptist was an interesting character. He was, by all accounts, different than other religious men of his day. He was an itinerant preacher who cared only for his cause. Verse 3 tells us that John the Baptist went around proclaiming to everyone that a “baptism of repentance” was needed in order for people to repent. John the Baptist was not quiet about his beliefs and neither should we be.

I don’t recommend going to work tomorrow and baptizing your coworkers at the water cooler but do not shy away from your beliefs. We need to “prepare the way of the Lord” as John the Baptist did. As you prepare your house, wrap your presents and decorate your cookies this Christmas, be a little bit louder in action and word about the reason you are so very merry this holiday season.

- Angela Knapp

PRAYER
God, We pray this season that your spirit will flow through us so that we can be an example to others as we prepare for your arrival. Amen.

Task Rabbit

If you know me, you know I've been working several jobs for the past four years. I write, I teach online, I teach in the classroom, I assist a writer, et cetera et cetera. So, when I read about this new website called Task Rabbit in Time magazine, I surfed on over and immediately signed up. I went through a background check, several virtual interviews with my handy dandy webcam and Voila! I'm a Task Rabbit.

So what's a Task Rabbit do? Anything someone needs doing. This is how it works: You, the customer or person in need, posts a task online. You can post what you'll pay or you can let us Rabbits bid. Then we bid or accept the job, show up (or do it online), and bam! You get your task done and I get paid.

So last week I went on my first job, downtown L.A., to help set up for the Small Business Expo. I was one of about 10 Task Rabbits there, and about 50 others working, and it was really great. Everyone was very hospitable, I was assigned multiple jobs throughout the day and when my shift ended (I worked 9 to 5), I shook their hands and came home. (The guys in charge were super - they even ordered pizza for us for lunch!)

So what did I do? I put together easels and hung signs. I unpacked crates organized furniture. And then I spent about 4 hours stuffing gift bags with promotional materials (see some of that above) which was a long, tedious activity but...I was being paid and the other Task Rabbits were very friendly. We chatted about other jobs, gluten, the election, favorite TV shows, et cetera. So all in all? A great first Task Rabbiting experience.

If you ever find yourself in need of someone to do a task, I'd recommend the site (tasks can be done in any number of cities listed on the site) or virtually. And surf on over and find my page if you're interested! I have a Task Rabbit number and I can be requested specifically for jobs.

The Pitch

As my Facebook status read last night: I survived my pitch to the 'Modern Family' writer with only minor pit stains. Yay!

True story.

So the conference call was very cool. We used this software that allows you to log in online and then talk on your phone and chat at the same time. It seemed to work very well and I liked interacting with people that way (especially the chat function, several others on the call sent me direct messages and we had nice little conversations).  

But what about my pitch you ask? Well, I think it went well. I'd worked on it for almost a week, first adding about 2 minutes and then cutting almost 3 minutes out as new suggestions arose and as new instructions came regarding the call. What I had at the end was pretty tight and I think, funny. (My parents, Angela, and 2 awesome friends told me it was so I'm going to choose to believe them.)

Here's the gist of my pitch:

Together Forever is a multi-cam sitcom (filmed in front of a live studio audience, instead of a dead one) about Will Strong, a burly guy's guy former construction worker who fears commitment, hates all things wedding-related, and has recently inherited the struggling family business because everyone's sure he can turn it around. The catch? It's the family wedding planning business. 

I went on to describe some of my inspiration for writing the show (bring up my family's business, a funeral home, and how for grooms, they can often be one in the same), told the cold open (the first scene of the show which involves Will singing along with Alanis Morissette and eating a lot of chocolate, and giving an overview of the pilot episode, the other characters and the tone of the show (Everybody Loves Raymond meets Bridezilla). 

After I pitched, Mr. O'Shannon (the Modern Family writer on the call) gave me a few notes. His first? He hates weddings. Had two of his own and thus, the minute I started, he was predisposed not to like the subject matter. But...he did say that that's going to be true of a lot of topics for a lot of people and he wouldn't let it cloud his judgement. Okay....

He went on to tell me that I gave a little too much exposition in the cold open (which is a great note as likely, there's too much exposition in the actual script at that point too) and that the idea could be risky because it may get repetitive (every week another goofy wedding). So those are notes I could address in the next pitch and in my writing. Other than that? He said I seemed personable (as far as a conference call allows him to judge that) and that my pitch was conversational (something I was very worried about as I was basically reading from my notes). And yes, I did mess up the work inspector. Somehow I managed to pronounce it as instructor each and every time I practiced and then again last night, ah, great fun.

Overall? A really positive, enjoyable experience. Whenever someone wants to read my writing or hear about my writing, I'm all in. And I'm grateful for the chance to pitch to someone who's won Emmys (Cheers and Modern Family) and written on amazing shows (Fraiser and Newhart just to name a couple). And when I slid my business card in the thank you note I mailed to Mr. O'Shannon this morning, I said a little prayer that the next time I pitch, it'll go as smoothly. And that I find a better deodorant.

Networking the town

As a writer, I'm happy sitting behind my computer at my desk for hours, days, weeks on end. As a person, I'm happy when I get to have long, rich conversations, laugh with friends, and meet new people who might be interesting and have the potential to become friends. Luckily for me, I get to combine the two sides...right? Right.

Well, sorta of right. I've been realizing this year (with the help of a screenwriting consultant and my writers' group) that I have a pretty great portfolio of scripts. I have pilots and specs and a novel and a screenplay or two. I have a lot of stuff and a lot of stuff that I want others to read (which wasn't always the case). But I've also been realizing that the next step in the career I want is networking. And so I've been working on getting out there more, trying to figure where "out there" is and talking to people who might have connections or know of people who might have connections. Because as in most industries, it's mostly about who you know.

So last week I went to an event called Friday Night Drinks. I got all dolled up in my writerly clothes (jacket, new green scarf I got for my birthday, new black glasses) and I headed off to the bar at The Grove. My writer friend and I were early so we browsed the candy shop below (yeah, interesting combination for the building) and then headed upstairs for two hours of talking loudly (the music was deafening) and exchanging business cards and paying too much for a so-so glass of wine. But here's the exciting thing...

Networking helped! I'm finally seeing some of the fruits of the labor I've been putting in over the past four years! Within twenty minutes of being there I was offered the chance to pitch a sitcom spec to a comedy writer. And not just any comedy writer. A comedy writer on a hit TV show: Modern Family. Yep, on Monday I'll be on a conference call where I'll pitch an original 5-minute idea to Dan O'Shannon. I'm freaking excited. (And maybe just freaking out too because I don't feel ready...yet...but I will be!)

How'd it happen? Well the woman arranging the call (the consultant I've been working with, Jen Grisanti, who is awesome - love her!) was looking for comedy writers and a friend mentioned me and since she knows my work and I was literally in her line of site, 5 feet away from her, she pulled me over and immediately asked me if I'd do it. And I truly believe that had I not been standing there in front of her, it wouldn't have happened. So, networking might not be so horrible after all!

What does this pitch mean? Who knows. Maybe Dan will like what I say and ask to read something. Maybe it'll just be a chance to practice my pitch with a real audience of people who really matter in this business. Maybe something I can't even dream up. But mostly? I'm glad I went out last Friday night and I'm glad I said yes the second she asked even though my instinct was to back away out of fear.

So, will my pitch be funny? We'll find out Monday night at 7!

Emergency Preparedness

Angela and I have been working on a project for about 6 weeks now and this Saturday we finally finished it! The project?

Creating an emergency kit and making sure we are prepared in case something happens.

What's the something you ask? Well, it could be anything. In our neck of the woods it most likely will be an earthquake that's stronger than the ones we've experienced recently. Or maybe another type of natural disaster. Or maybe an extended power outage, like the one on that show Revolution I keep meaning to watch. (But most likely our kit will not help us much in the event of a zombie attack, if my viewing of The Walking Dead is at all accurate. But Angela has expressed her desire to just be killed immediately if that happens, she has no desire to battle walkers, so maybe the kit will sustain me if that happens.)

We run our Neighborhood Watch group and each month we talk about being prepared for different events. Angela has participated in the Great Shake Out each year through LAUSD, which is a simulated earthquake-type event where they practice their roles. And we had some water and corned beef from when we first moved to L.A. but we recently decided that would not be enough. So this summer when Angela and I both stumbled upon a blog posting about being prepared, we decided to take action and do it right this time. It took a while to collect all of the necessary things, many of which we had to purchase, but I think we both feel somewhat comforted by the notion that if something bad happens, we can try to manage it with some supplies.

On Saturday we put the kit together in the tub we bought and these are some pictures of what went in it. A full set of clothes including shoes, for both of us. Glasses for me (conveniently I just got new glasses so the old, unattractive pair, goes in the box!), plastic sheeting in case of airborne emergencies, etc. We bought a hand-crank flashlight this spring and it works, not that well, but it'll be good if the batteries go out in the regular ones we have. We also bought a Red Cross approved hand-crank emergency radio. The Red Cross kit pictured above is something I won at a community event last year and we threw it in for good measure. There's a poncho and warming blanket in it which Angela has already claimed. Yeah, there are 2 whistles so there won't be a fight over those.

We fashioned a first aid kit from the list we found. I substituted some things like bleach with wet ones and hand sanitizer. It took some legwork to find the waterproof matches. And I still don't know the difference between peroxide and rubbing alcohol so we bought both. We didn't put any prescription drugs in the kit, just some pain reliever but if you take medicine regularly, it's suggested you put that in. Angela figures that in case of extreme emergency her anxiety meds won't really help her anyway so no need to get an extra bottle.

We put old shoes in but shoes that will be okay for walking or running (God forbid). I think these are really important since an emergency might occur at night when you're not thinking about what to grab or have nothing on your feet. It's also why I keep shoes under my bed for quick access. We added food that won't go bad quickly, won't require much prep (nothing here requires so much as even a can opener, but if you put tuna in your box, put in a can opener!). We did nuts and canned meat and peanut butter (with spoons!). We'll also check our box once a year and refresh the water and food as needed. See the plaid blanket above? That's from my car, and that's mine because I don't get a poncho!

We had originally purchased these 3 Day Emergency Backpacks and are keeping them close as well. This one is 2 years old, bought after the last big quake when the store had only 2 left. We have 1 in the house and 1 in each of our cars. They're pricey (about $90 if I remember correctly) but if you want easy, it's a great way to go!

Do we feel more secure? I guess Angela does! And yes, I think it's a good idea. It's great to know that in case something happens, we'll have some things we might need handy, in a tub that although heavy, I can carry with me if I need to leave my house immediately. Or if I can't get to a store or something. And basically, we put this kit together with the hope and faith that we'll never need to use it.

Here's a more comprehensive list of what we included in our Emergency Preparedness Kit:

• 3-day ready made kit
• Plastic container for kit/supplies
• Ziplocs for storage of open food/supplies
• Water - 3 gallons per person
• Food - highly caloric, canned (we have peanuts, peanut butter, granola bars, canned meat, and the energy bars included in the 3-day kit)
• First aid kit including gloves, gauze, tape, antibiotic ointment, pain reliever
• Surgical masks (in 3-day kit)
• Clothing (we included both short- and long-sleeved shirts, yoga pants, bras, underwear, socks, shoes)
• Sunscreen and lip balm
• Waterproof matches
• Fire extinguisher (this isn't technically in our kit but we have one in the house, we're going to look into getting another one for the kit/house though because Angela learned at the last Great Shake Out that the Red Cross/city recommends having them as police/fire may not be able to get to us quickly)
• One large flashlight per person/batteries (we have hand-crank varieties too)
• Hand-crank radio
• Utility knife
• Whistles with lanyards (in 3-day kit)
• Cash (the suggestion was $150, we have a cash stash of over $200 which isn't in the kit but is in the house)
• Hand sanitizer/wipes and/or chlorine bleach to use as cleaner
• Tampons/pads
• Garbage bags
• Blankets - 1 per person
• Duct tape and plastic sheeting
• Fun stuff - we chose 2 decks of cards though Angela says she needs to brush up on her card games now  (if we find a cheap Uno deck, that may go in at some point)
• Documents (this took some time but we felt it was really important regardless of putting the kit together or not) - all are copies (not originals! those are in the fireproof lockbox in the house!) which are included in a Ziploc/waterproof bag
• Passports
• Driver's licences
• Bank accounts
• Credit cards
• Birth certificates
• Social security cards
• We also put all of our digital photos on a flash drive and put a copy in the lockbox

In addition, we talked about our emergency communication plan. I put cards in both of our wallets that include our cell numbers, contact numbers for people out of state (Mom and Dad!), and where to meet if something happens and we can't get to our house (Angela's school which is within walking distance of here and is a Red Cross/city shelter). We made sure our car kits were up to date and also made sure Angela has some things at school in case something happens while she's there.

We still have to find out how to turn off the natural gas and main water source at our house but we're well on our way to being prepared. And basically, that's all we can ever do, right? Prepare?

So that's what we've been up to. Not sure what we'll do with all of our spare time now that this project's complete! But it's one of those things that's good to be done with.

Birthday Month!

I don't know how it started but at some point, birthday weeks sounded like a good idea. A whole week of celebrating, eating out, slacking off, hanging out with friends. And then...inevitably, it turned into birthday month. Chipolte even though we have sandwiches at home? Yes, it's birthday month. Watch a movie instead of clean the house? Yes, it's birthday month. Need an excuse to go out with friends? It's birthday month!

And so it goes...this month is my time! We've been doing little things all along. Birthday pedicures. Birthday massages because we got a coupon and it's birthday month! So naturally Thursday, my actual birthday, had to be a bigger celebration! And it was!

I got to talk to my parents several times (love that!) and hear the stories about my birth. I had lunch at Canter's with my writer group friends and we talked about TV shows and showrunners and ratings and our own ideas and didn't have to worry that anyone else, not in the screenwriting biz, was bored. One friend even made me cookies in her new apartment!!!

Then I hurried home to see our amazing Detroit Tigers beat the Yankees to get to the World Series! (And there was much rejoicing!!!!) An awesome afternoon couldn't have been better planned!

After Angela chased the mail lady down the street to get the package from my mom, I got to open presents(!) and found this among all the lovely things! My mom has been working on it for a while and I LOVE IT!!!! I always wish for snow on my birthday and I got it (even if it was 91 degrees in L.A.)!

Then Angela and I had my favorite meal (meatloaf just like mom makes!) and headed to Hollywood for some bowling. See, we really know how to celebrate!

We continued Friday with a girls' night at The Velvet Margarita where our wonderful friend Thomas works. He arranged reservations for us and a special birthday surprise (hence the candle!). We ran into friends new and old as the night wore on and just had a wonderful time!!!! All in all, a spectacular birthday month! But yet, not over. Because October's not over yet. No big plans left but you never know! Plus, there's still cake in the kitchen!

Birthday Eve

Tomorrow is my birthday. It's not a big one like 30 or 40 or even 21 or 16. But it's a birthday. In fact, I think I've been contemplating this birthday more than I have any other in my past. Why? Because I'm turning 35.

35.

So far, the biggest change I have noticed is that I'll no longer mark the box on some forms that says "Age: 22-34", instead I'll have to mark the box on forms that says "Age: 35-Dead" or something like that. Other than that? I'm not sure what will be different tomorrow.

This morning when I talked to my mom she reminded me that 35 years ago today she was Christmas shopping with my Grandma Boutell. She reminded me that it was cold and rainy on the day of my birth but then hot and steamy a few days later when she introduced me to family members. I remembered that I always used to pray for snow on my birthday, even just a few flakes. I love snow. Always have. I used to pray and pray and maybe once or twice, I got my wish. But usually? It was cold and dark and rainy. Michigan in October.

Tomorrow in L.A. it's supposed to be 90 and sunny. Not the birthday I would have imagined for myself all those years ago. But then again, I never would have dreamed I'd live in California either. When I was little I don't remember thinking about what life would be like when I was older. It seems to me that you just grew up and there was more of the same. More of life. More of Michigan, of the town I grew up in, more of the people I love, more of just making it through another year. Not bad, not good, just that was it. My how things have changed.

In 35 years I've lived in three different states, done countless jobs and embarked on several careers. Would I change anything if I could?

Ooh, good question.

I think about that all the time. What would have happened if I had stayed in Michigan. Or gotten my doctorate degree after grad school. Or pursued a teaching certificate. Or followed the journalism path I started down once upon a time. What would have happened if I'd married that college boyfriend. Or been too scared to apply to film school. Where would I be. Who would I be.

I don't know. And I guess that's part of the fun of it. As I make it through another year, a year filled with sickness and rejection and sadness and disappointment and terror of what's coming next, I think a lot about all of it. But I also think about all of the awesome things that have happened. All of the people I've met. All of the things I've experienced. How I get to spend each day writing. Writing. That's something I cannot take for granted.

I might wish for snow tomorrow. Or wonder what life would be like in Michigan with kids and a husband and a regular job. Or think about what next year will bring and how I can make it so. I might curse the warm weather a little and dream of air conditioning and chocolate ice cream. But here's something I know for sure.

I'm where I am because this is exactly where I am meant to be. This is the plan, this has always been the plan, and no matter the course I took to get here, I am here.

I can second guess my choices, play back my decisions, question my thinking all I want but it won't change that fact. I'm who I am. I'm doing what I want to do. I'm happy. And that's the truth.

I can't remember a lot from when I was little. I get scared sometimes thinking something's wrong with me because I don't recall my third birthday party in detail like others do. But then I remember that it's ok. I have people in my life who love me and who will share my story with me. I have new stories to share with them. And that's really what's important. I am blessed and grateful and happy. I'm alive and well and turning 35 tomorrow. And no box on any form define who I am. Only I get to do that. And right now? I like the definition I've come up with. I like it a lot. And guess what? If I want, tomorrow I can write a new definition. Happy birthday to me.

Bad Girls

I have a new favorite song. It happens from time to time, I get a little ditty stuck in my head and I can't get it out. I listen to it on repeat over and over, mostly in the car. And I get really excited when I hear it out and about in the world.

My new favorite song?

Bad Girls by M.I.A.

I heard it originally playing through a scene of the pilot of The Mindy Project that new sitcom on FOX created by Mindy Kaling. It was fun the way the music swelled and highlighted what was happening to the main character onscreen. It took a little Googling but I found out what the song was, downloaded it and put it on repeat.

Then last night I heard it again. Angela and I went to a screening of the new Melissa McCarthy/Jason Bateman comedy Identity Thief. And there was my song, playing at the beginning and the end, perfectly bookending the movie. I was in love. Until I was driving home from the grocery store this afternoon. Windows down. Bad Girls blaring through the stereo.

I was thinking about the movie. About the scenes over which the song played. And I suddenly realized, I can never use that song in my own movie. It's been done. Someone else did this really cool thing. Wow.

It was just an interesting thought. To think that this has been done. And can never be done the same way again. How each day, we do something different, maybe something similar but it's never going to be the same.

It was a great movie. Go see it when it comes out in February. (It was even better for me because I spent the entire screening with the knowledge that the screenwriter, Craig Mazin, was in the seat directly behind me! Very cool!).

And download the song, give it a whirl. Maybe you'll like it just a fraction as much as I do;-)

Guts and imagination

Everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. -- Sylvia Plath

Ah, self-doubt. Anyone know anything about that? Oh, wait. That's my hand that shot up in the air and then flew down only to creep back up, slowly. Yep, self-doubt.

I wrote a novel a few years back, actually finished it about three years ago. I was over the moon. It was before I was really into the screenwriting business. It was back when I was just a writer. I wrote and wrote and wrote. And I finally had this thing, this book, to hold in my hands. And hold I did. I copied it that December and gave a copy to my parents and several grandparents. I heard people enjoyed it though I don't know if I ever saw anyone reading it or if anyone had anything specific to say about it. I have one of those copies here and each time I run across it in the closet, I want to cry.

I love this book. I love the story. I love the characters. They are real to me. They are real and they are stuck in a closet gathering dust and hiding under a box of CD cases I'll never use but can't seem to part with. Why? Because I don't know what to do with this book I've made. This thing I've created.

I'm not sure what I thought would happen to it (okay, that's a lie - I was planning on giving it to my agent when I got one through my glorious screenwriting career) but nothing has, so far. That qualifier is the only thing that holds me - so far. I won't let that self-doubt stop me.

Today I start a rewrite. The novel is long, too long, for a first-time writer to get published so I need to cut. Kill my babies, as we say in writing circles. I need to edit and restructure and tame it. No small feat but nothing I can't handle. (Famous last words...)

So here I go. And hopefully, sometime in the near future, you'll be able to hold your very own copy of An every day silence by Sarah Knapp. Guts and imagination, here we go!

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.

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!

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.

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).

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?

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....

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 

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)

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!

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.

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.

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.