Five Years at Abbey Place

Five years ago today Angela and I moved to Los Angeles, into this house on Abbey Place where I sit typing this blog, looking out the window at the blue moon, tonight.

Five years ago today.

It seems completely impossible. Where did those years, months, weeks, days, hours go? How did we get here from there? How are we still in the same house? On the same street?

Impossible.

Five years.

When I was younger, I knew there was this place called Hollywood. This place where it was sunny all the time and there were palm trees and where actors and actresses roller skated (yeah, I'm old, whatever) down the beach boardwalk. I knew of this place but I never, not even once, imagined I'd go there. I thought it was way too far away (kinda like I think of Australia now, I know it exists but I doubt I'll ever get there) and too exotic. I couldn't roller skate (the very last time I had skates on at the Roller Rama when I was in middle school, I fell going over the metal entrance to the skating rink and bruised my tailbone, that was the end for me!) and I surely did not look like anyone in the movies or on TV (this must've been pre-Roseanne or maybe when the only thing I was watching was Beverly Hills 90210).

And yet...here I am. Five years ago my dad drove our U-Haul into the driveway right out front and we unloaded and made our little home in this house that has shady window screens, no air conditioning, assorted animals and bugs, and a washer/dryer. All of my Hollywood dreams were about to come true!

Fast forward 1826 days. Have all of those dreams come true? Well...

Angela has this little picture frame in her room that says, "Sometimes on the way to one dream, you find another." I love that. (Yes, I bought it for her...) I love how one dream can spawn a hundred thousand more and some you never even saw dreaming.

I came to Los Angeles wanting to be a screenwriter. I had already written a movie script and three-quarters of a novel. I enrolled in film school. I read hundreds of screenplays, watched hundreds of movies and then...realized maybe I was interested in the medium that had stolen my heart before the movies. TV.

So I took a class, then another. And bam! Another dream. To be a television writer. But not just a writer. A showrunner. A creator.

Along the way I realized maybe I'd want to act (tried it, hated it) or direct (that I could get behind). I also found my passion for teaching college again (and a paycheck).

So there are new dreams now. And some of the old ones still lingering around. I've also discovered new passions, met new people, realized how important it is to live a life while pursuing a career. Each of us is granted only so many days and it's important to remember that and to make sure each counts.

Has each of the past 1826 days counted? Hell yes. And then some.

So here's to five more years. Here's to what's next. Happy Anniversary, me! (And Angela!)

Really the best sister ever

Today is my sister Angela's birthday.

It's been a long month. It's been a long summer. Frankly it's been a long five years. Or eight but hey, who's counting? But you know what? Angela's a trooper. And today's her birthday and she deserves amazing things and to have a fabulous day, week, month! And truth be told, today is not going to live up to my normal birthday standards. The month hasn't either. There are birthday banners in the living room I put up Friday afternoon. There's the birthday accordion sign wrapped around the TV we use every year that grandma and grandpa gave me when I was little. But sometimes life just isn't that happy. Being a grown up is about realizing that and despite that, making the best of being alive today. Because today's really all that's promised to us.

And yet...today is Angela's birthday. So I at least want to brag on her a bit. She's teaching today. Teaching with a cold coming on (thanks germy germy sixth graders!) and a heavy heart and when it's 85 degrees in her portable classroom. But when I visited her at lunch and we ate our chicken salad, she still had a smile on her face (yeah, it might have been a little forced but it was there!).

Angela's pretty awesome. Not just as a sister. As a sister, she's top notch. Has been for over thirty years now. But as a friend. As a roommate. As a teacher. As a person.

Did you know she just got her full-time teaching job back after being employed in the same job for the past four years? Yep. That's right. She's been teaching for four years but being paid as a part-time employee. Now she's back up to elite status. No one is happier for her than me.

Did you know she came to Los Angeles just because I wanted to? Yep. Left a full-time, guaranteed for life basically job in tropical Yuma for the uncertainty of Tinsel Town. And no one is a bigger cheerleader for me.

Today is Angela's birthday. I wish I could throw her a huge blowout or treat her to a night in a Tiger suite. I wish life were simpler and a little happier today. But guess what? It doesn't matter. What matters is that Angela is amazing. Simply amazing.

Happy Birthday, Little Sis. I love you.

Back at it

Tuesday felt like a normal day - not only was it Angela's first day of school (as a full-time teacher finally!!!!!) but I was back to my regular Tuesday routine. Drop off stuff at Goodwill, head to Homeless Lunch, coffee (and then lunch, we had a lot of catching up to do!) with Sonora, producer and actress extraordinaire!

After about two hours of chatting with Sonora about everything we'd missed over the last few months, I finally broached the subject: my script. I'd sent it to her the day before we left for Michigan (the first time) and while I'd heard rave reviews over the phone and via text, this was the first time I'd seen her in person since I'd handed it over.

There was no hesitation in her voice when she started talking about the pilot and what she said caught me off guard, but in a good way. She wanted to do a table read, where actors read the parts sitting around a table or a living room, to hear it out loud. I don't know why this surprised me so much. It's something I've done with all of my scripts. At UCLA we read 10 pages each week from people scripts. Every single week. No matter if they were first drafts or thirtieth drafts, horrible or awesome. We read. It was part of our education. And it was amazing. To hear other people read words I had put down on the page, words I had made up. To hear people laugh or draw in a breath because of something in a story I created. Wow. It's just...it leaves me speechless still.

And then when I started my own writers' group we had table reads almost weekly. Of outlines, of rough drafts, of finished projects. It was a very important and necessary step, to hear the words aloud. I encourage all of my writing students to do this. To read their writing out loud. It's amazing how it changes and what you hear that you couldn't see.

However, both at UCLA and in my writers' group, when we did table reads, it was just us writers reading. Sometimes I'd have to drag Angela in to take a few roles and I'd have to read stage directions but it was never with actors. And I think there might be a difference...

Sonora has found several actresses and actors who she thinks will be perfect for the main roles in our sitcom. She left me an excited voicemail yesterday detailing how these people even look like what I've imagine. I. CAN. NOT. WAIT.

So it's happening. We'll gather at her apartment sometime in the next few weeks, share a meal, and then I'll sit back and listen. Listen to real actors (not that my writer friends didn't always do an awesome job reading!!!!) read my script.

And then we'll get to rewriting.

Because this is only the very first step. I made changes in the script yesterday before copyrighting it and sending it off to Sonora. I added a hair dryer and changed a character's gender. And I know there will be many more changes to come.

But it's starting. We're back at it. And it feels completely surreal and completely amazing.

Where to start...

I have no idea where to start. I have been meaning to blog for some time now. I'm a regular blogger. I need it. I like it. I think in terms of blogs and tweets and Facebook posts and scripts. I'm a writer. I write.

But I also have a life. A life away from the keyboard. And lately? That life has taken a turn.

I'm not sure where to start...and so, I guess I'll start at the beginning.

When I logged into my blog just now I was shocked to realize I hadn't written since June 17th. It's now August 7th. I seriously had to refresh my Internet browser to see if I had missed a post or two. But no, I had not. But it's okay. I'm back now.

See, when I'm in Michigan I know I won't blog much. In fact, I kind of make myself step away from it. I try to spend as much time away from my computer as possible. It was made more difficult this summer because of work (which I'm grateful for - yay UoP!) but the rest of the time? I try to avoid the screen because so much of my time is spent behind it the rest of the year. And I was successful. I'll blog some makeup posts later about my month on hiatus. But for now? My month turned longer.

Angela and I came back to L.A. as scheduled but then five days later turned around and flew back for the funeral of my grandfather. We ended up staying a few extra days to spend time with our family and because, well, it's summer and why not? Campfires and baseball games and lunches with grandma are so much better than long days behind the computer. We got back last Saturday night/Sunday morning. Refreshed and ready to go.

Angela and I celebrated Monday with a trip to the movies in the afternoon. A really good movie I'd been looking forward to by two of my favorite screenwriters/actors. We laughed and laughed and enjoyed the heck out of it. And then we looked at our phones. Many many missed texts and phone calls and voicemails and I before I knew it I was running out of the theater into the sun and crying trying to dial my phone.

Grandma had a heart attack. Exactly one week to the day after we buried her husband of 59 years. A massive heart attack that required surgery and intensive care and all of a sudden words like Do Not Resuscitate and pallbearers and hospice were in the air. And I couldn't breathe. I just couldn't.

For the next few days I walked around in a fog. Looking to all the world like everything was okay while inside knowing nothing was. To add to the mystery of life? The very next day we got word that my only other living grandparent, my dad's stepmother, was being put in hospice care for an untreatable UTI. There were just no words...

It's hard being so far from home most of the time. Phones and texts and emails are great. I love living here in the land of movies and television. I love writing and all that goes with it. But it's hard. It's hard missing my family and friends and being so far away from the place that feels so comfortable. But right now? It's excruciating.

I know there's absolutely nothing I can do in Michigan right now. I know that. But it doesn't make it any easier. And we've decided to not go back to see grandma in hospice, just as we didn't go back to see grandpa. I'm choosing to remember grandma as I saw her Friday morning, walking me to her front door and hugging me goodbye after a morning of donuts and stories and laughter and love. I'm choosing to keep that week in my soul rather than what might be now.

And so here we are. Waiting. Still slightly unfocused. Still tentative in making plans for more than a day out and checking the Delta website for the next flight. Still wondering when the other shoe will drop. But...

I'm getting by. Hopeful and prayerful and enjoying the sunshine and fresh air and trying to drink more water and eat less bread. There will be time next week for more. There will always be time for more. But for right now? I can only start at the beginning.