It Gets Better

This year (so far) I've submitted to probably about 10 or more play development workshops for next summer.

I have applied to two teaching jobs that would give me the opportunity to develop my work while teaching.

I have been working my ass off on two different play rewrites over the past year.  And it's hard to do these rewrites on my own.  I could really use actors and a theatre space at my disposal.  That's why these teaching opportunities seem so appealing to me.  And why I want to do some development this summer at these theatre festivals.  The work can only get better and be helped with more hands (and eyes and ears).

I look forward to the opportunity to be in residence at a University and to really get the chance to see the vision of my work come to fruition in a full and complete way.  Then I feel like I would be ready to bring in a director to see what I've started working on.  I have no interest in directing my own work.  But I have no problem directing my own workshops.  For me, it's an extension of the writing process and it is still "writing" to me.  But there does come a point when I need actors to voice these characters and embody them.  And I need a director to help me see the things I don't see.  Blind spots.  I want a director to have a vision of my play, but I want it to be a vision that involves me.  Not a vision that is simply a showcase for his or her own abilities to shine through and outshine my work.

I need a playground.  And ideally, I would be working on several different plays in development over the summer at these various summer festivals.  It's not me being greedy, but it's me trying to give the plays what they need.  Attention.  Love.  Nurturing.

Then to parlay that into teaching in the Fall…I would love that.

And to even go further…being asked to host workshops or to work with private clients on their own material in the Winter and Spring, which would lead into a Summer of Productive Play Making and Developing and then into the Fall and an entire school year of teaching and play making.  I don't think that's too much to ask.  And I think that writers should have that sort of attention put on them.

Like I said in a previous post, I want the keys to the theatre.  And I want you to leave me alone.  And I want you to come and check on me and be in the audience for that first reading.  And I want you to tell me what you saw and not what you wish I had done.

I have a lot of plays in me right now.  And I want to systematically and with great care get them out.  And I want to see them in front of me.  And I want to talk about them.  And I want to let these children be nurtured.

That's the only way they can be the great plays I know they are.

Six Miles of Good Road

I'm on a jogging jag.

I ran six miles over the weekend.  Gosh, that felt good.  When I'm running, I feel like I'm on fire. I feel like I am tearing through the world with great velocity and strength.  I do feel like I can conquer anything.

On Saturday, there were lots of packs of running groups.  It felt like community.  I saw fit people, running hard.  I saw they were getting the same satisfaction and joy I was getting.  I could only assume that they were having the same revelations and epiphanies that were brought on by the endorphins running through their systems.  It was pure joy.

Then why don't I run every day?

It is so painful for me to get out the door daily to run.  I run a few times a week, which is incredible.  But I'm a runner.  I love it.  And I have the time to do it every day.

But isn't it like writing to me?  When I'm in it, I love it.  I feel like I'm conquering the world.  I feel like Goliath.  But when I wake up to start the day of writing ahead of me, I'm David…looking up at the beast ahead of me and wondering how I'm ever going to conquer him.

But I have done it before.  I have done it well before.  But even if I didn't do it well, it's an amazing feat to finish just one script.

But here's what I'm constantly thinking:

Now I need to do the rewrite.
This isn't perfect.
I have to still write more scripts.
Should I take on that other idea that seems a lot easier?  (Newsflash: It's not easier.  You'll soon grow to hate the process as much as you're hating this one.)

I am so mean to myself.

And I know why.  My Dad pushed me and didn't want me to have a big head about things.  So that turned into this feeling that I could never be in the moment and appreciate an accomplishment.  I had to constantly focus on what I wasn't getting done because if I stopped, then I would leave an imprint.  Like a footprint.  That footprint would reflect where I had stopped.  It would be a marker and I would never go beyond that point.  If I kept moving on--dissatisfied with what I had done--I would be saying that I know there is more ahead of me and that I'm better than what I just did…just you wait.

But how long does one need to wait before they get tired of waiting and move on?

That's the problem with that way of thinking.

I'm going to concentrate on doing what's in front of me.  I'm going to run (and write) and enjoy the feeling of my muscles working,
of my eyes looking straight ahead,
of my lungs taking in more air and not feeling stretched, but feeling bigger,
of my mind opening up and taking in as much air as my lungs.

I love running.
I love writing.
I need to stop acting like I hate it.

I'm lucky.  I can write.  I don't have to will that ability into existence.
I just have to get up.

It Don't Matter *

* I know that's not proper grammar.  Get over it.

I spend a lot of my time trying not to focus on what other people are doing.  It's hard when you've taken time off for a valid reason and you're trying to come back into doing what you love.  But the fact is that I did take time off and I can't assume that the world has been waiting for me to come back.

I am a changed person.

I have gained a lot by being away.

But the world has gone forward.  I have a ton of friends who are making great strides in their careers.  It's finally paying off.  

And sometimes I ask myself, "Where have I been?"  I have a great answer for that.  I have an answer that makes people think I did the noble thing.  And I have a ton of personal growth to show for it.  But I did take time away to do something else that has a hell of a lot more meaning.  However, I am coming back to a world that doesn't care what I learned or why I left.  It has moved on.

I'm not asking myself the question: "Was it worth it?"  I know the answer to that.  But now I have to find my place in an industry whose Kool Aid I have lost the taste for.  

I love to write. 

It gives me meaning.

And trust me, I am holding onto that meaning for dear life.  

I saw an old friend for lunch yesterday.  This friend started out as an assistant for a major show runner in town and now he works as his Manager of Development (although, due to the way things work…he still gets paid as his assistant because this guy's deal doesn't cover another executive). My friend has a job and has a job for a power player.  And he's basically doing the job I did when I worked for these two EPs almost three years ago. 

It was a nice lunch.  He seems to be living a nice life.  But is he doing what he wants to be doing?  I don't know.  The job doesn't sound like it's that exciting.  He's reading scripts for staffing and probably not offering up much of his opinion.  When I worked for those Exec Producers years ago, I was actually doing a job that was above and beyond what my job description was.  But they acknowledged that and they valued my opinion, which was smart because they got a lot more work out of me than they would have if they just treated me as their assistant.  

So if I got another job in the business on that side of things, I would be in the same situation I was over three years ago when I was working a job for another power player who undervalued what I was capable of.  And I realize now, that my friend and I were talking about my previous job, and I was complaining about it.  I hope I didn't insult his choices.  But I realized that those were the same choices I was making three years ago in a job I had been in for seven years.  I have more to offer than that.

So in a way, I feel like I am accomplishing more for myself by not just taking one of those jobs, which coincidentally aren't easy to get.  The guy my friend works for is considered one of the best in the business.  But when you work for someone that big, it is all about them.  It has to be.  They're an industry.  They are not just a person any more.  They are responsible for a lot of people's jobs and for tens and maybe hundreds of millions of dollars.  That's why they are getting paid many tens of millions of dollars under their overall deals.  In the grand scheme of things, their concern can't be you.  It's good humanity.  But it's bad business.

I'm sure my friend, like many of my friends--and like me at one point--drinks the Kool Aid that he has to suffer through that to get to where he wants to get to.  A lot of the folks I've seen in this business are great place holders.  They're capable, but not out of bounds intelligent.  They get the job done, but they're not going to ever be the leaders.  And when you do have someone who is that amazing and that good but not ambitious enough to understand their value, they are undervalued.  I have another friend who I saw a few days before who is one of the most intelligent, perceptive and nicest guys I've ever met, let alone worked with.  He should be running development at a major studio or high level production company in town.  But he's not.  He's a "company man."  And the company he works for doesn't even know how lucky it is to have him.  

I've talked a lot with friends lately about how I don't want my next move to be about advancing my place in the hierarchy.  My next move has to be about advancing my abilities.  It has to be about being better, getting better and doing better.  And that does not just have to be about talent and spirituality.  It can and should be about money.  Money is energy and direct focus towards where you want to be in life and how you see yourself.  Money can keep you afloat.  And money can keep you surviving.  But if you use money to direct energy towards what you want and to make a statement about where you want to be in life and who you want to be in life, it can be incredibly powerful.  

That's what I want to do.  

I want money to direct energy towards what I want. 

I want money to make a statement about where I want to be in life.

I want money to make a statement about who I want to be in life.

And to do that, I have to see it as energy and not just as currency.

So when I look around and when I get jealous of my friends, it's not because they are buying cars and houses.  Sometimes it might be because they're traveling, because I believe that advances the spirit.  It can.  I get jealous of my friends who are putting energy towards what they love.  I get jealous of the people who are doing what they have been put on this earth to do.

But I have to be fair.  

I am writing every day.

I am making the statement with my energy about where I want to be in life.  I have been sending in applications for fellowships, professor jobs, play development, scripts for people to read to hire me.  I have put the time in to write this blog about my struggle and journey to focus on the person I want to be.   

And just like money can be turned into energy to make a statement about where I want to be and who I want to be in life…

Energy can be turned into money.

And there is good energy and bad energy.  There is good money and bad money.  I know that.

I am crystal clear about what my intentions are.

Maybe that's why I am thinking about leaving LA.  

I like my friend, but I don't want his life.

Maybe where the money shows up is where the energy shows up and that will tell me where I need to pull focus.

Running Tour: West L.A.

I'm taking my show on the road!

I went for a run in a lovely older neighborhood in West Los Angeles, near some of my favorite Asian places to eat.

Up and down streets in a small area between Sepulveda and Westwood Boulevards.  And Santa Monica and Olympic.

Today's run wasn't as pretty as the beach, but whenever I'm running along neighborhood streets I like to imagine making a home in a lovely neighborhood.  I imagine what my life might be like.

I started thinking about success and money.  I want to have a life where I'm doing what I love and I have enough money so I don't have to worry.  But I don't want to just have enough to get by.  Living paycheck to paycheck is not for me.

I ran and ran and thought about what abundance means to me.  I think it means having a constant flow of energy that you dip into and take a part of, but that you also let go and pass on the abundance to others.  It does not mean hoarding or accumulating in order to measure yourself up.  It means sharing.  As I turned the corner, thinking about money and what is enough for me, the sky opened up.  All of a sudden blue was breaking through the thick cloud layer.  It felt like light was breaking through on my intentions.  It felt like the thick layer that has been preventing me from seeing myself was finally breaking.

Then I started a mantra:

I Work Really Hard

I have to remind myself of that because I don't always see what I am doing.  I only focus on where I want to go and lament over the fact that I'm not there yet.  But if I don't appreciate what I have accumulated, then I can't appreciate the journey and I feel like I haven't gotten anywhere.  And I have gotten far from where I started.  It goes back to my marathon training.  You run the race which is 26.2 miles, but if you're training regularly for six months you end up running over 500 miles.  It's the 500 miles which allow me to run the 26.2 that everyone sees.

I get up every morning.  And I allow myself time to wake up.  I check emails.  I write in this blog.  I watch stupid You Tube clips to wake my brain up.  Then I write.  Or I meet with a friend or colleague to talk about writing or to network or to discuss our careers.  I go for a run.  I go to the gym.  I am constantly working on honing my focus.  And, as I was reminded last month in dance class, my focus is deeper than ever.

I have to take stock in my accomplishments in order to give me the push, to remind me that I am very well-trained to run this race.

I came back from my run, sweaty and accomplished, ready to take on the day.  My eyes feel like they're about to pop out of my head.  My back feels tingly and awake, alive.  And I've got to jump in the shower because I'm having lunch with Tim.

A Plie is a Journey

I had a dance professor in college named David who always used to say:

"A plie is a journey…see you there!"

I'm not sure if he coined that phrase or if he borrowed it from someone.  But we always used to laugh when he would say that.  We laughed mainly because it was such a wacky, yet exuberant and expressive thing to say.  He also used to say that a plie is necessary because without it, you can't jump as high.  You need the moment of preparation, of rest, of planning before you make the big leap.

I have been on that journey for a couple of years now.  I had forgotten how important the preparation was because I just wanted people to see how high I could jump.  That's the part where you get to show off, right?  Look at how high and how far I can go!  But the plie has to be there first.  It's got to be a good, deep one.  And then you can fly.

I have to say that most of the time I haven't fought it.  It's only in the past six months or so where I feel sort of antsy.  Like I'm ready for something to start moving and stirring up.  I'm trying to surrender and open myself up to the infinite possibilities that the Universe can offer, but it is so in my nature to try and control EVERYTHING.  But I am limited.  The Universe is not.

It's time for me to settle into a deep, deep bend.  Take a breath.  Go deeper.  Prepare for the journey.

Slow Days Suck

I don't really enjoy days like today.

I didn't go for a run.  I felt like I needed a day off because my knees were a bit sore.  I ran pretty hard two days in a row.

I spent the day with my mother.  That isn't bad in itself.  It's just that we had to talk about the neighborhood gossip.  Then lunch.  Then I stayed around a bit to wait out traffic.

It took an hour to get back.

So when it was time to sit down and try to do some writing of any sort, it was late.

I don't feel productive or motivated.

Yes, tomorrow is another day.

But not even the procrastinating I'm doing is very interesting.

Everything annoys me right now.

I did make a list of "fun things" to do with the boyfriend because we're not getting much time together and I think it's starting to affect both of us.  So I decided to be proactive and send of an email with suggestions.

That was a few hours ago.

I'm going to bed early so I can try and catch up on sleep.

And I have nothing left to do today.

It's not even eleven.

Another Santa Monica Run

My run on the beach felt so good that I decided to go back.

I'm on a mission.  A mission for health.  A mission for strength.  A mission to discover what I am made of NOW.

My whole life I have been a fighter.  On the playground.  In the classroom.  On the mean streets of New York.  And in the topsy-turvy wonderland that is Hollywood.

And now it's a different kind of struggle.  I want the body I deserve and the life I deserve.  Running is focusing me and preparing me for that.

Again, no real affirmation yesterday.  I thought about some things, but my mind remained pretty focused and clear.  I focused on the beach ahead of me and around me.  I focused on my breathing.  I focused on my legs that felt strong.

I'm working on cutting through all of the bullshit of my life.  Running's a great metaphor for that.

I ran longer yesterday.  I ran to the Annenberg Beach House and walked around a bit.  It was really beautiful.

These runs are really clarifying.  They help me focus on what's ahead and not on what's behind me.

I'm not running this morning because my legs are tired and I've got errands to run.

But maybe I'll run tonight or just later.  That might be a nice change of pace.

What new things will I find out about myself then?

Running Affirmations on the Road: Santa Monica

I'm cat sitting for a friend of mine, so I decided to drive out to Santa Monica (not that far from where I'm staying) for a run.

Susan and I used to drive out every week when she lived in Santa Monica.  That's where these running affirmations started really because we would talk about the things we wanted on these runs.  I remember not always enjoying the running part because I could run a lot faster with more stamina than Susan.

So today I was out on my own.  I ran along Ocean Avenue at Montana down to the pier and then on the beach and back up on the ramp.

I kept waiting for the words to come.  For the affirmation to come.  Nothing came.

I just ran.  I ran fast and strong.  I let the sun pour on me.  The sweat came down my forehead and down the back of my neck.

I finished my run and I felt good.

But no words.

I think I needed to silently mediate today.  My focus was strong.  I didn't even get distracted during the run.  There were very few words I even thought to myself.  I just took everything in and I ran.

I wasn't trying to talk myself into anything.
I wasn't trying to talk myself out of anything.

I have a lot on my mind, but fortunately none of it came to me during my run.

I turned in a teaching application this morning before the run.

After the run, I went to the gym and worked out.

Then I started my day.

I think I'm going to go on a run tomorrow.  See what I hear or don't hear.

Maybe I'll run every day I'm on this part of town.

Maybe I won't have any thoughts.

That would be a real meditation.

Say It Enough

I keep telling people I'm leaving LA.

I've been back here for ten years and a lot of it has not been happy.

I learned a lot about myself.  I've been fantastic places and stretched myself further than I thought.

I've transformed my body.  Ran a marathon in Florence.

But I want so much more.

I could have been rich and famous in my twenties.  If I wanted it enough.  And I thought I did want it.  Forever, I've been telling myself that didn't happen because I wasn't good enough.  That's not true.  By the time I hit 30, I had gone from my small LA suburb to the best high school in LA to studying playwriting with one of the most gifted writers who I had mostly to myself to working at the greatest advertising agency in history to moving to the greatest city in America and studying arguably the best school for dramatic writing on a full scholarship.

Then it came to a grinding halt when I moved back to LA when I turned 30.  I even had the offer of an agent six months after I moved back to LA, but turned him down because the manager I had just signed with told me to hold off.  I often look back at that as a big mistake.  And it seems to have been reinforced by being in LA for ten years and not "making it."

But now I know why I didn't make it.  And it's not about not making it.  I was unhappy fundamentally for ten years.  Because I had steered myself away from my passion and started doing what I thought I needed to do to become important.  The only thing I needed to do to become important is to follow my passion.  And then it wouldn't even matter how important I was because I would be consumed by my passion and that would up my value in the world, but being important would become less important.

A light is turning on within me.  Being important isn't important.  It's kind of the opposite of "being good isn't good enough."

I am running towards an opportunity that would allow me a house, a building to bring to life the plays I am writing.  I am writing bigger than I have before.  I am writing bolder and riskier than I have before.  It doesn't matter if theaters decide to do my plays if I have a place to bring them to fruition myself in the way I see them.  Then I can put them out into the world--after I have raised them on my own.

LA isn't evil.  It's just home.  And I seem to do better away from home.  I'm not running away any more.  And I don't look at my thirties as a waste any more.  I had to reconcile my past with the person I've become.  I flew with more velocity when I wasn't in LA, but I flew recklessly.  I'm a more studied person now because of every difficult, uphill experience I've had in my thirties: a bad relationship, a bad work relationship, a father's illness and death.

My friend Steve told me tonight that he was hoping I would be ready to move back into my life months ago, but knew that I still needed my own time.  And honestly, I wasn't ready.  I wasn't ready to jump back into life because I didn't want to go back to the person I was.  I didn't want to be careless with my gifts and talents.  I didn't want to under appreciate what I had been given.

I honestly think this venture into other possibilities, maybe teaching, will lead me to something greater than just being an important guy in Hollywood.  I don't know if I would have known how to handle it before because I was thinking small.

I'm learning that finding a calling isn't an instantaneous "a-ha" moment.  It builds over time.  It's like a freeway, it takes years.  But once it's constructed, there is a new highway--faster and more direct--to where you want to go.  There's no traffic on a new freeway--at least not until other people use the road you've built.  But then maybe you needed to build it in order to give them a road to travel on as well.  But you will always be the one who figured out the path first.  You will always be the one who had the vision and who thought big enough to build a freeway.

I'm leaving LA.

To TV or not to TV?

I have a writer's group I'm a part of as a part of the Playwrights Union, a group of playwrights who live and work in LA.  We meet once a month to read each other's work.  It's usually just a fraction of the PU that comes out for this writers group.  I never understood that.  It gets me out of the house for something other than grocery shopping or the gym.   And it keeps me honest in terms of my writing, although lately I seem to be doing okay on my own.

Today there were four of us who met and read work.  I opted out of having work read this time because at the last meeting, I brought in pages that brought up a bunch of questions and started me on my next rewrite.  So now that I'm 90 pages into this rewrite, I don't want to derail myself.  I want to finish the rest of this rewrite and then I'll start bringing in pages again.

But at the end of the readings, we just sat around and talked.  I know two of the writers well and another newer writer I hardly know.  But we got on the conversation of writing for television, a topic I am all too familiar with.  I am at a crossroads with TV writing, something I hesitate to talk about because I live in LA and everyone should want to work in TV.  That is why I moved out here.  But I'm tired of jockeying for a position in the hierarchy.  I think that's the main job of the TV writer: to keep or establish placement in the hierarchy.  And I'm competitive, so I understand the impulse.  But right now, I just want to follow my passion for writing and put myself in a position that allows me to write.  

One of the writers said that to be a writer in TV, you have to be willing to do anything to be a writer in TV.  And I think that's true of any endeavor you're passionate about.  You have to be willing to do anything.  As a playwright, I think less is asked of you.  That "anything" is not "everything."  So right now, I'm just establishing stricter boundaries on what that anything is.

We talked about the difficulties of writing a pilot.  How you have to be a student of the form.  Read everything you can get your hand on.  Look at scripts to see how they're paced and formatted.  Write outlines.  Write story bibles.  Do all of these things to find out what the right pilot story is.

Gosh, I hope I get one of these teaching jobs.  I'm going to be great at teaching TV writing.  Oops.  Sidebar.

And as I was talking, I got into the mechanics of it.  It's a different, thrilling, exciting beast.  I know I still love the storytelling aspect of it and I love that it's a different way to tell a story.  But I am impatient with the business of it and the inherent unfairness of it.  It's not fun when it's not working in your favor and you're knocking down doors.  I prefer to return when the door being knocked down is mine.  And that's not such a lofty goal.  It's not a bad thing to say that I want to be in control.  Of course, TV execs and agents and managers don't want to hear that.  Especially, with someone who they feel should be kissing their asses.  Listen, they've got the advantage in this situation.

But people also want what they can't have easily.

Like I've said before, I want to be somewhere where I can develop my work on my terms independently with huge resources.  Right now, the shape that seems to be taking form, is one of a college campus that's interested in new work and wants to develop it.  Then I'll be ready to take my work to festivals and other places.  But I want to rehearse and workshop and fall in love with the process of working again.  That's where my passion is.

And I love TV writers.  I have friends that are very successful and very good at it.  And they want it.  They want it BAD.

Silence Feels Deadly

Silence is feels deadly.

It's like hearing nothing from a guy you went out with two days ago.

Oh, he's not interested.  He's moved on.  I shouldn't have ordered that dish at dinner.  I should have let him fuck me.  What did I do wrong?

Susan and I were on the phone the other night.  We were catching up since she's been out of town supporting her husband on a show he's directing.   And she was mid-freak out about not hearing something from a showrunner who's mentoring her, who's already gone out with two other projects.  And then she talked about finally getting some help on getting an agent, after feeling like nothing's happening.

We had a Cher moment on the phone:

Snap out of it!

I reminded her that the showrunner is one of the busiest, most successful guys in town.  And that she's in the game.  This is not six months ago or two years ago.  She has made her entrance into the game and she's in the midst of it.

But silence feels deadly.  It feels like nothing's going on.  It feels unproductive and like you're forgotten.  But that's what happens when you have to tend to another part of your life: your family.

I reminded her that she needs to focus on what's in front of her and that all of the other noise has nothing to do with her.

I love my friend.  And I'm happy to be able to help her off the ledge.  But where is that person for me?  That's not to say that she's not supportive.  As evidenced by many things on this blog, she's been completely there for me.  But sometimes silence feels deadly.  The silence of not having people respond to your work the way you want them to. I go through that struggle constantly, but maybe because I have such a self-assured attitude when it comes to giving advice certain people don't think I need a pep talk because I'm so good at pep talks that they assume I'm doing that for myself.

I'm not always.  Because it's easier to see what needs to be fixed from afar, with some distance and objectivity.  I don't have that when it comes to me.

But maybe that's the lesson.  A few months ago, Susan did a tarot card reading for me where the cards said that I've got success around me, but it's not coming in the front door because I don't know it's there.  I don't know how close I am to achieving my goals, so I don't answer the door.  So if you feel like the guest of honor--success--hasn't arrived yet, you're not going to go answer the door.  If you feel like he's far away, you're not even listening for the knock.  But that's perception.

And that's a lesson for the two of us.  Change your way of thinking.

Cave Dwellers

I used to hate the expression "in the writers' cave."  I have friends who, when they would get busy writing, would write on Facebook that they were in the "writer's cave."

If you don't hear from me for the next three weeks, I'm in the writer's cave.  

I'm not answering any phone calls and only emails sporadically.  #writerscave

Plenty of my friends have gotten annoyed that I write about writing all of the time.  Here's a recent (maybe obnoxious) message:

78 pages and counting!

I only write about writing so that I can keep myself accountable.  But I get how that might be seen as annoying.  But I only write about writing because it's my way of sending flares up when I'm in the writer's cave.

I'm in an ugly old school, 70s style county library in Culver City right now because I need a change of pace from the gorgeous, brand new county library in West Hollywood that I normally spend my time in.   I am now about 88 pages into a rewrite of a new play and I am very much in the writer's cave.  But as a cave dweller, I actually like to cave hop so that still have some contact with the real world.

It's a Saturday morning.  I've been up since 7:45 AM and I'm devoting my day to writing.  OMG, it's only 10:50 AM.

I think I need to do something.  Maybe go to the gym.  Maybe go for a run.  It's a shitty, cloudy day.

I don't want to be in the cave all day!

Maybe I should send an S.O.S. via Facebook.

Quiet

Quiet makes me uncomfortable.
As a child I liked listening to the
sound of the shower
As my parents were bathing.

Rain.
I would listen to the rain
on an especially stormy night
like conversations going on
white noise murmuring
in the background.  That's why
I love falling asleep to the
television, it seems
like dinner party
conversation that I was not
a part of as a child.  Always the
observer even then
even now.

I sit in my bed decades later
and hear the cars pass by
what looks like a quiet street
with its multiple apartment buildings
and cars buzzing past on
their way to the big street.  It's the
same thing.  Me in bed in my
quiet little corner
as conversations are happening
above me.  I still feel
tucked away all of this time later.

Quiet helps me create.
Or being alone.
But that just helps me create
more quiet so I hear
the voices.  The voices
are for everyone, Collins to Camus,
we all hear them
the same.  They are what we
are guided by and if we don't
listen, we are missing something,
which is why I spent so many
rain puddled nights listening
to them afraid to miss
something afraid to be
left out.  Sound is different
now, why should quiet not
be the same?

Quiet shrinks me down.
If I don't move no
one will know I am
here and will keep
talking
around me
falling over
me and drenching me
in their hushed
tones and droning
conversations, thunderstorms
of pitter patter.  Quiet lets me
hear.  I hear everything.

Hand Me the Keys

My friend Larry and I got together, as we try to do every week, to write and to talk.  It's often inspiring, even if some of our conversations are energized and passionate (i.e. if I totally piss him off by attacking him with my opinion).  This week was good.  We got together at a favorite coffee place, went upstairs and wrote across from each other at this tiny table.

Beverages: Coffee (Larry) and Thai Basil Lemongrass Tea (me)
Snack: Cinnamon Roll (shared)

It was great because it felt like we were feeding off of each other's energy even though we didn't speak much as we wrote.  It was actually the most productive writing session we've had together (at least for me).  Usually we write a bit, get bored and then go grab coffee and tea.  This time he was already there.  I joined him.  We wrote and kept writing.

I'm working on a rewrite right now that is going well.  Maybe a bit slow for my taste.  I like to pretend that I'm Superman and do a rewrite in a few days.  That hardly happens, by the way.  But I'm at the end of my third week and I've written 57 pages out of a script that will probably be double that.  So I'm just at the half way mark.  That's good.  I have to remind myself.

So we chatted about this teaching job I'm applying for.  I told him that the job is exactly what I want to be doing.  I want to be teaching a little bit and I want to be able to workshop my plays on my own.  I have a constant frustration that my plays are not making their way to the platform of regional and off-Broadway theatres.  But I think that frustration stems from my long-held belief that they need to give me validation.  And if I am not accepted by them, my work doesn't mean much.  And if I complain about it, then it's sour grapes.

I'm slowly learning to leave that thinking behind.  I have several plays that I love and that are well-written.  I have written good plays.  I  need a place where I can be alone with some actors...in a space...in a theatre building to talk about the work, to get it on its feet if we need to and to work stuff out as it exists on its feet in space.  I want to start seeing my work as I'm working on it.  Instead of writing, writing, writing and imagining the words and the actions in my head for so long then hearing it out loud, then writing, writing, writing more and rewriting, rewriting, rewriting more and maybe seeing some of it up in a workshop at some point several months or years later.  No.  That's not what I want any more.

I want to take something that I'm working on and play with it with some actors.  Fragile, gentle words and actions.  I want to pump them full of oxygen.  Then see what I have and do some more work on the page and bring it right back.  I need that at my disposal.

Then Larry and I were talking about the experience he's having with a play he's doing a reading of.  I talked about the last reading of this play that I went to a few weeks ago:

http://creativityinrealtime.blogspot.com/2013/10/in-line-of-fire.html

We talked about the difficulty of working on something for a theatre and then feeling obligated to them, either by their own insistence or our own sense of gratitude.  Playwrights are often waiting for crumbs to feed ourselves.  I would go as far to call them scraps.

Then Larry asked me what would be the bare minimum that I would need to work on a new play.

Space.

No hesitation.  Just give me the keys.

"Why?"

I told Larry that I just need a space to get to work.  But it wasn't just about space, but it is actually also about the building.  The temple, the synagogue that we come to worship.  I need a theatre to give me the keys.  Actors will come for me, but also come for the building.  It will give it legitimacy and it will make our gathering feel like an event.  It also says that the theatre trusts me to keep its space safe, in both a literal and a spiritual way.  As long as I'm working on something worthwhile and in a responsible way, I am creating safety for other artists who want to do the same thing.

I think the building is really important.  I need room, but not just a room.  Not just my living room.  Not just a basement somewhere.  I need a theatre space to create theatre.  A black box.  A space that is wide and blank enough for us to create the blank page on stage.

He also asked me what I would do if someone gave me $100,000 to work on a play.  I would put some of that money towards a production.  But I would also put it towards the development of one or two more plays.  To rent space.  Or to get space somehow so I could then start the process of development in a way that felt like it catered to what I need.

In the theatre, we give a lot of lip service to the idea that the development process is there to preserve and protect the playwright's vision.  But in order to do that, I think the playwright needs to be higher up in the food chain. The playwright needs to be at the top of the hierarchy.  Then the vision can trickle down.  The theatre has to hand the reins to the playwright--hand me the keys!--so that the playwright can guide their vision.  With other administrators, organizers and artists higher up the food chain than the playwright, the playwright's vision cannot come through.  This is not to say that everyone else in the process isn't there in support of the playwright, but without the power to make decisions, the purity of the playwright's vision is not there.

So it comes back to my very simple request:

Hand me the keys.

And then let's see what kind of work is created from that vantage point.  Shift the power.  It takes a different economic model.  It takes a different type of involvement from the playwright.  It makes the playwright more responsible financially.  And it's more of a residency model, I suppose.  And it doesn't have to be forever or even for months at a time.  I can do a lot with a four week workshop.  I can pull results in three weeks.  And even make do with two.  One is tougher, so pony up and make it at least two.  But hand me the keys and see what happens.

That's all I need.

Super Soul Saturday: Planting Our Own Seeds

I was watching this PBS show called The Mind of a Chef online earlier.  Chef Sean Brock talked about the first time he planted a 70 foot row of beets.  They failed.  He didn't get one beet he planted because he planted them too deep.  Once he figured out how to plant them and they grew, that first beet became the most important beet ever.  That's how life is, he says.  You have to fail at something in order to appreciate it.

I thought that was a great metaphor for a lot of things in life.  We look at failure as a stopping point, an indicator that we did the wrong thing.  But as many entrepreneurs, scientists, artists and people in general will tell you: failure is essential to moving forward.  Once we figure out what not to do, we figure out what we should do.  Or once we figure out an error, we appreciate when something works out so much more.  You can have success, by happenstance, and things can work out.  But it's only when things don't work out that you appreciate how magical, rare and precious it is when things work out.

I had a lot of things right as a child.  I was inspired and I wrote prolifically.  I didn't know any better.  I didn't know to protect and cherish that accomplishment.  So I let it go.  I let other people tell me what to do with my gift, but in their hands things changed.  The result wasn't the same.  I am taking back my seeds and planting them myself instead of trusting that someone has the same intentions I do.  That's a lesson for life, a lesson that has taken me the entire decade of my thirties to figure out.  But now that I've figured it out, I will view each opportunity as the most important beet ever.

I was watching India.Arie on Super Soul Sunday last night before bed and she basically said the same thing.  She trusted that her "people" knew how important her gift was because they liked what she did. So she entrusted them with the management of that gift.  And they had their own agenda, so it was only when she did something that they liked that they were happy, supportive and encouraging.  But when it was about what drove her--and they didn't agree with it--they discouraged her.

Everyone has a vision.  We have an idea in our heads of what we want for ourselves.  And when we enlist the services (notice I didn't say "assistance" or "help"--these are paid services) of others, they look at what we do and have a vision.  Sometimes that vision is attached to what they would do if they had that same idea.  Sometimes the vision is attached to how to make the most money so they can afford their next car or house. Sometimes it's so their client can become well known and they can seen as responsible for that success and they can build a reputation to attract other people to them.  And other times it's even more altruistic than that: they want you to be your best, but their vision does not always align with yours.

In May, I fired my managers.  There was a lot of history there, but essentially they didn't see me the way I saw myself.  I'm pretty well-versed in the jargon of the business.  I spent a lot of time studying the business through various jobs I've had in it.  So I feel I know how to navigate.  And I did that to expand the avenues available to me.  I thought that if I spoke the language, I would be able to clear enough brush to create a path for myself.  But I am one person and the entertainment industry is...well, an industry.  I only have control over what I choose to do.  It all comes back to that seed.

So now I walk out to the field and I see the crops.  Many of them around me are growing strongly, standing tall, looking abundant.  I know a lot more now than I did the last time I planted these seeds.  So I look out for a good piece of land and I put my seed down.  I now know how to tend to my budding plant, how to nurture it, how to give it enough light, how to quench its thirst and under what conditions it can best grow.  I know so much more now because I planted my own 70 foot row that didn't result in a crop.

That's such a better perspective than one of being forever barren and accepting that as my lot in life.  The next time I look for representation or I let those people come to me, I have a good idea of which plots to reject and which ones to consider because of their potential.  But that doesn't mean the seed does in that soil right away.  I have to make sure that in the perfect conditions, that seed is being best tended to.  It takes some time, but once I figure out how to get the best crop and I adhere to that, then I have nothing to worry about.

Super Soul Friday: My Grocery List

By the way, I'm rewatching Super Soul Sunday on OWN that's a rebroadcast of two episodes that aired back in June (I think) featuring India.Arie where she discusses her spiritual awakening.  I am the guy who watches Super Soul Sunday.  I think lessons can come from anywhere.  

My boyfriend thinks it's silly.  That's fine.  I love the tarot card readings.  I mediate while I'm running and I've been on a purge for the past three years of old ideas and ways of limited thinking.  I'm thinking of calling it "The Getting Rid of Things You Didn't Realize were Negative Thoughts" cleanse.  It's a whole body, whole spirit, whole mind cleanse.  It's a journey to be whole, actually.  

So in tribute to the episodes of Super Soul Sunday I'm rewatching and pausing intermittently while I type these blog posts, I am calling this series of posts "Super Soul Friday."

One of the things one does during a cleanse is they get rid of certain foods that are harmful.  If you're trying to connect to a deeper place, you start looking at the cleanse as a metaphor.  Where are other areas in my life where I have things I don't need or that are no longer useful?  Who or what is making me sluggish?  Why do I seek comfort in food?  What is it that I am running away from?  What are the bad behaviors I go back to when I need to feel comforted?

I have done various types of cleanses over the past three years.  One is a 21 day cleanse where you eat the whole time, but you cut a bunch of things out.  I left that cleanse almost three years ago cutting out caffeine from my diet.  I really have cut back coffee and caffeine from sodas.  I will have some mild green tea once in a while.  But I mainly do the caffeine free everything.  I'll have some chocolate...all right!

I just did a juice cleanse for three days, which was great.  I had amber pee after the first day after drinking a homemade greens juice.  I peed amber once.  Then the rest of the time it was clear.  It was important to see the toxins go out.  

I did massages for a year and a half every month.  That was cleansing.  I wanted to treat my body and take some time for myself while I was taking care of my Dad.

I go to Korean spas to steam and quiet the world.  

I turn off my radio wheneverI'm driving from LA to San Jose.

I'm finding myself much more comfortable in stillness.

But lately, I have really been trying to be focused on consciously eating.  The big lesson from the first cleanse was how thoughtless my eating was.  I would just put things in my mouth out of boredom.  And when my Dad was dying, my Mom and I would order in food every night.  I was rewarding myself and stuffing my grief with food.  Even after raising my awareness through cleanses.  I gained weight.  I couldn't get myself down.  I used to hover around 160-165.  At my heaviest (about four months ago) I was 190.  I'm 5'10".  That's a lot of weight for me.  Right now I'm just at 175.  

I'm not drinking juices. 

No pasta.

Less booze.

No processed foods.

Those four things, plus some more cardio have made a big difference.  Of course, I never say I'm never doing any of that stuff.  The caffeine I'm pretty good about.  But I don't want to deprive myself.  I love food.   I love the taste of it...real food.  

That was a long preamble to me discussing my grocery list, but I thought it was important to set the context.

I went grocery shopping tonight.

On a Friday.

Whooping it up!

I bought some things and I wanted to talk about why I bought them.

Does that seem crazy?

I've done crazier.  I don't just not do things because I think someone will think I'm nuts.

Here we go:

• Kale - last week it was spinach.  This week it's kale.  I'll probably saute it in some olive oil with some garlic, dried cranberries and slivered almonds.  Maybe I'll make a salad.  I'm trying to get those hard core greens into my diet.
• Hearts of Romaine - yeah, I love lettuce.  I put it on everything.  Lettuce wraps, salads, tostadas.  I love the crunch.
• Sprouted Wheat Tortillas - I love these.  I'm eating a burrito right now.  I use them to make flatbread pizzas.  They are amazing.
• Butternut squash (cut up) - Roasted.  Served with lentils.  Or with the kale dish.  I love it.
• Green onions - flavor.  I make fried rice at least once a week.  And to go on everything.
• Silvered almonds - ran out.  Need for a quinoa dish I make.  In my oatmeal.
• Red quinoa - love it.  I make a salad with cranberries, almonds, green onion, parsley, pomegranate vinegar and olive oil.  Lasts for a few days for a quick lunch.
• Green lentils - I made lentil soup the other night.  I want to make more lentil dishes.  I love lentils.
• Vegetable stock (low sodium) - a staple.  Can be used to flavor a bunch of different things.
• Veggie Burgers - I don't buy a lot of processed things and I can actually make my own veggie burgers, but they're good in a pinch.
• Asiago Cheese - for the flatbread pizzas I'm going to make this week.
• Black beans - a staple.  To toss in a quinoa salad.  To add to a burrito.  To make tostadas.
• Corn salsa - for a little sweetness.  A bit of a splurge.  But I used a bit in the chile verde burrito I just made.  Delish!
• Dark Chocolate Bar with carmel and sea salt - Total indulgence!  You have to have one or two.  I will eat the whole thing myself tonight while I'm watching more Super Soul Sunday.  I'm not sharing.  It makes me happy.

Why the hell am I sharing the contents of my shopping bag?  I don't know.  Just to keep myself accountable in a way.  But also, I'm trying to be aware of everything I'm putting into my body and why.  I love food and I love flavor.  That cannot be sacrificed.  But I want to only take in things that are good for me.  Listen, there's bacon in my fridge that I'm going to use on a pizza.  Or in a BLT.  But I did have a meat heavy week, so I'm trying to give myself a break.

tI want to be excited about the things I'm eating.  So detailing them gets me excited about what I'm going to make.  I have extra weight I don't need.  It's not purely an aesthetic issue.  I feel better when my body is functioning better.  I have friends who laugh at me (because they might be hiding their concern) when I said I had 25 pounds to lose (from 185).  But that's fair.  And now I have 15 pounds to lose.  It's not because I want to be thin.  It's because it's extra weight I don't need.

I have a friend or two these days who are extra weight.  I'm cutting back.

I have thoughts that I binge on every so often, but then I put them away.  And certain behaviors.

But it's all a negotiation.  If you eat something crappy for lunch, eat really healthy for dinner.  That's Bethenny Frankel's ideas, not mine.  See?  You can't be snobby about where you get your info.

I'm going to splurge for Thanksgiving.  I'm taking my Mom to my favorite place to get pasta when we go visit my brother in Portland.  I'm not limiting myself on that.  But I'm not wasting calories when I don't need to.

Maybe I should make a grocery list of friends and see who's absolutely necessary.

Three Years and Counting

Three years ago, I went through some major life changes that set me on a path to rediscover myself as a true and complete creative being.  Being creative was something I did on the side, like fucking around.  It was my mistress.  I did it in between my 50-60 hour a week job.   I did it in between dealing with a boyfriend who had demons of his own he was battling.

Then I walked out of that life.
The boyfriend went.
Then the job.

I detail it in a blog I've been writing for all of that time.  You'll see the last entry was well over a month ago.  I've been focusing my energies on this blog, which is still about my life but from the vantage point of being a creative person.  If you're curious...

http://iambacktolife.blogspot.com

Just when I was on a good path to rediscovering who I was, my Dad got sick.  Then that began another part of the journey where the newfound strength and resolve I had was being tested.  I was finally starting to value myself and to stop being a caretaker to a demanding boyfriend and boss.  Then my Father needs me to take care of him.

Another set of lessons.  And during that whole time, I still wrote.  I actually wrote a lot.  But I also got off the hamster wheel, which was my obsession with making it as a TV writer.  I didn't stop writing or stop pursuing my career.  But I stopped working to take care of my Dad.

Then Dad passes away.  And another year passes where I start dealing with the grief.

And that's where things got spiritual for me.  It would seem unreasonable and preposterous for me to be on what's turned out to be a three year journey or self-discovery.  I would never take that time on my own.  Serious things needed to happen.

But the Universe was speaking to me and it was staying STOP.  I would never have done so other wise.  I would have thought that a year would be enough.  Then another year passed.  And then ANOTHER year passed.  It's not that I haven't been productive or that I haven't worked at all in that time.  But the main focus of my life has not been trying to maneuver, manipulate, orchestrate and network my way into a job.  The main focus of my life has been to strip everything away.  To get rid of certain messages I started telling myself.

Every day is a journey.  I know that sounds corny.

But it really has only been in this year since my Dad has been gone that I have started feeling things shift within me.  It's funny how long it takes us to get these lessons.  We went to Hawaii as a family for two weeks earlier this year to scatter my Dad's ashes and just to get some time together.  That was the big reset button.

But things haven't automatically just shifted.  I write every day.  I work on myself every day.  To some people, that seems like a frivolous way to spend several days, let alone several months or even a few years.  I didn't realize I needed all of that time.  It's unbelievable to me.  And it has been a struggle to allow myself the time.  But if I didn't start accepting that this is what was being presented to me, I'd be living a life where my eyes were half-open.  I lived that way already.

I'm not sure why I'm rambling on about it.  I guess I'm reflecting on it because I feel rumblings underneath my feet.  I feel like things are starting to move again, but not in the way they were just racing by before.  I was on someone else's momentum.  Now I'm on my own path and I am ready for this next shift.  Who the fuck knows what it's going to bring?

And that's fantastic.

Run Ahead

Whenever I am about to go for a run, I dread it.
The pain, the distance...
The First Step.
I put my running clothes on, trying to make
myself the most
comfortable I can be, otherwise I am going to want
to quit.  So I try not to give myself
any excuse to do that.

Once the shoes are on--
TIED TIGHT--
and the door is locked, I start walking.
My head is full of thoughts on this block-long
walk from my house to the corner, where
I see the running path, flanked by grass,
ahead of me,
inviting me,
willing me forward.

And I start.

Today, I had a burst of energy.
Maybe that's because I didn't have a lot
to eat, nothing weighing me down.
I darted down the path, almost
afraid I was going to run out
of steam at some point.  But I kept on
going,
running swiftly towards traffic,
dodging runners, cyclists, slow old people,
inconsiderate assholes who have their dogs
on a long leash, thus making it hard for me to
work my way around.

My head is up.
I am not looking at my feet.
This is surprising.
I am always looking down
At the ground
At my feet
At the painted path,
afraid to look up and see what's ahead of me.
Afraid to let people see my bright face,
the wind blowing in my hair as I cut
through.

I feel like I am running past things:
Trees, poles, houses, cars, dogs,
walking partners, scooters, street signs.

I feel like I am leaving things in my wake:
Trees, poles, houses, cars, dogs
walking partners, scooters, street signs...

other runners

memories

the past

voices

I not running towards anything in particular.
Street lights?
Forgive me.
Street lights.
The street lights help give me a bit of a push.
So does my breath.
HA.
HUH.
UH.

Or something in between.
The sound is hard.
The breath is full,
stretching my lungs past
their limits,
almost like I'm coming up
for air
even though
I am not
underwater.
But I am
pushing
pushing
pushing past
something.
The hard HA/HUH/UH
of my breathing
pushes
pushes
pushes propels
me forward.

I am running ahead.
Not in a race ahead
Akimbo?
Forward.

Go ahead.
Get ahead.
I am not in a race.
I am
just moving
ahead.
Like "ahead with the move."
I am
going for it.

I turn around.
Start walking.
Break time
(Until the next pole)

I can't believe it
I am not
stopping.
I can't believe it.

This is incredible.
I am
just moving
ahead.
I am
going forward
with my
plan.

Twenty years ago
I never looked
to the right
or to the
left
I
never saw
who was
faster or
slower
I just
went fast.
Ahead.

Running again
HA/HA/UH/HUH
that sound
is back
it means that i am
going forward again
akimbo
aja
hi-ya!
Maybe that's the sound
But harder.

There's no one in this race.
I am just running
fast and hard
feeling myself moving
through space
cutting through
space

I run fast
because I can because
I want to
because this is how
fast I can
go.  It's real fast.
I don't even need to know
my pace
because that means
having to show someone
to acknowledge
how good I did.

Then it's over.
I'm walking again--
heaving, sweaty.

The walk back is like
ice cold water.

I go inside and get some
ice cold water.
The water is better.
I cool down.

Look in the mirror.
Windblown hair
thinner face
clear eyes
focused
am I losing weight?
or is this deeper
than skin deep?
I look different
just by
running ahead,
the velocity of thinking differently.
In the blink of an eye,
a simple motion repeated
thousands of times
shrinks time
and changes me.  Like
nothing at all.

My Cultural Center

There are moments of time while living in LA that I feel like it's got a lot going on artistically.  Pockets. And it's not that there isn't a lot going on all of the time, it's just that I'm usually too focused on my writing to notice.  Well, in that case, there's always a lot going on in LA artistically.  I am very artistic.

Right now, I'm having one of those moments.  Yesterday, after a writing session at the beautiful new West Hollywood library, I walked across the street to the MoCA at the Pacific Design Center where there was an exhibit on Tom of Finland and Tom Mizer.

http://www.moca.org/museum/exhibitiondetail.php?&id=487

It's free and right across the street, so I went to check it out.  Truthfully, I was hoping to see more men cruising around looking for action.  The set up of the museum itself seemed right for it.  As did the subject matter.  The art was fittingly homoerotic and cool.  I'm glad I checked it out.  I felt like I had done something cultural for the day.

Then I hopped right back across the street to this beautiful building and looked out the window onto the Hollywood Hills and felt inspired as I was looking up information on two teaching jobs I'm applying for.

I then headed to USC to see the amazing Mx Justin Vivian Bond in V's performance of Mx. America.  This show felt a lot more conceptual and had more of an arc.   V talked about gender politics and family and childhood obsessions.  With music.  If you've never seen Justin Bond, you're missing out.

Here's V performing with Sandra Bernhard a few years ago.  It's 10 minutes long, but totally worth it.  Two of my favorite ladies.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=edkQuOmRoCk

And here's an interview where Justin where V talks more about the work.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JEHYqYloAV0

It's always inspiring to see Justin when V's in town.  And the crowd was cool.  I wrote on twitter that it was young boys in scarves and older ladies with wives.  I think that's a good descripton of the crowd.  And I ran into my friend Ethan, who I hadn't seen in eight years until we ran into each other at the screening of Merrily We Roll Along a few weeks ago.  Justin's a chanteuse, a wonderful cabaret singer and performance artist.  I got to know V's work back in the late 90s when I was in New York.   The performance last night was a cool event with lots of cool, weird, queer art types.  And there was a tea this afternoon in Justin's honor where V talked about the nature of performance and the work.  It was very cool.  Both events were at USC and I was just into being in this very artistic environment.  A bunch of smart college students talking about gender.  Sometimes being on a college campus reminds me of how far things have progressed--at least for a certain privileged population who can afford to go to college and wax poetic.  But admittedly, those are my people.

Then I'm going to a few play readings this weekend at Boston Court in Pasadena, featuring some of my friends.  Listening to plays in progress and talking to people about plays and just meeting people in general.  Walking down the street to grab a coffee or lunch with a new friend.

And on Wednesday my boyfriend and I are going to see The Black Suits at the Kirk Douglas Theatre.  When I go to the theatre in LA, I always run into people I know.  Or I run into people I want to know.  I call it the KCRW crowd.  KCRW is our local independently run NPR station that plays great music.  And those people are usually the folks at the Taper or the Kirk Douglas or at LACMA.  Those are the folks looking at art on the weekends.  And those are the people I love.  You can't just run into them on the street or find them anywhere.  You can't take that for granted like you can in a city like New York or Paris.  They're just all over the place, out in public where they can be seen.  We're all in cars here.  It's hard to locate certain like-minded individuals.

Right now, LA is my cultural center.  It's the place where I'm working and feeling inspired.  It's moments like these where I am thankful that I live in a city where cultural things happen so I don't have to hunt around for them.  It helps me feel supported in the art I'm making and it makes me feel like I'm not so weird.

And it is my center.  It's where I feel centered.  But it's not just about being in LA or New York.  You have to have the center with in you and then send out the Bat Signal to find those who are like you.  Given the fact that I'm applying to jobs and trying to do fellowships all around the country, I have to bring my center with me.  And when I'm focused on it, I make LA my cultural center.

My cultural center could also be Netflix.  I watch a lot of great documentaries on Netflix.

It could be PBS.  They're broadcasting the concert version of Stephen Sondheim's Company with Neil Patrick Harris tonight.  I'm DVRing while I'm typing this up and eating at home.

Yes, LA is a big city, so there are more opportunities.  And it is becoming easier to find art and culture in the city.  But you've got to move around and check it out and be willing to get off your ass or get out of your neighborhood.  The museum and library were in West Hollywood.  USC's near downtown.  I'm going to Pasadena tomorrow and to Culver City on Wednesday.  Yes, it would be more convenient if I just had to grab a subway or a cab crosstown.  It would be great if cross town wasn't 20 miles.  But it just gives me the opportunity to check out more neighborhoods, discover more restaurants and meet more people. It gives me the chance to get to know my city better.

Ending the Year Right

I can't believe it's November already.  I was just at a party with some friends and we were all wondering:

"Where did the year go?"

I can't believe another year is heading towards an end.  And as I look back, I think about the work I've done this year.  I am trying to work on something new constantly.  And if I look at it as a list, objectively...

• I wrote four drafts of a pilot, then rewrote it again recently.
• I rewrote my play, The Snake Charmer.
• I rewrote my play, Open - and I'm currently working on another rewrite.
• I did a shit ton of research, getting ready for a new play I'm writing, I Want It.
• I outlined a new play that I'm hoping to finish by the end of the year to apply to the Ojai Playwrights Festival.
• I've applied to a bunch of summer play festivals.

Okay, that's a lot of work.  It doesn't feel like it necessarily, but for a year, that's an incredible amount of output.  The pilot took up a lot of room this year.  But so did the plays, which occupied my summer.  Then the research for I Want It took up two months.  I'm only pausing on it because I have more rewrites of other projects that came up and I want to do more research.  I also realized that I can use it to apply for a Sloan grant.

I just have to keep going.  This new play I'm giving myself two months to write, but in the meantime I have to finish new rewrites of Open and possibly The Snake Charmer (although that's slightly less important to me right now).  I want to get the new play done.  I have a strong idea I feel good about.  That means I also have a new play in 2014 I'll be working on for a New Play Reading Festival I try to take part in as often as I can (I took this year off).  It's just about getting as much done as possible.

I thought this year was going to be the Year of the Rewrite for me, and in a lot of ways, it was.  So I didn't expect to come up with a whole new idea for a new play about the priesthood.  Then I had an idea for a seven play cycle that I will be halfway done with in 2014 if I finish drafts of the three new plays I have ideas for.  One is I Want It and another is a play about growing up near Hollywood in the 1980s.  It surprised me that three new play ideas popped out of me this year.  I might get to one of them before the year is up, but I'm always letting ideas incubate for at least a year while I write other things.

I'm just grateful that I still have things I want to write about.  That's truly thrilling.  Writing occupies most of my time because even if I'm not physically writing new scripts, I'm researching them or I'm writing new blog posts.  Every day I write.  Every single day.  And it's building up an energy in me that continues to grow.  I'm gearing up for something.  I have no idea what it is, but something is coming.

Eight more weeks...keep pushing!

Writing Wingmen (and Wingwomen)

Right now I have a pretty open schedule.  That's Hollywood speak for "unemployed."  I'm definitely making the most out of my time and I'm getting a lot of writing done.  But when you don't have an office to go to, it's hard to get your ass out of bed and to get on a schedule.  That's the good thing about having a writing partner.  You have someone you have to be accountable to every day.  The bad thing about having a writing partner is that it's like another relationship and I don't want to be in another relationship.  I love collaboration, but I've always been a solo act when it comes to writing.  It's just what I know.  But I do like the idea of having someone who is there to make sure I'm writing.

That's where my friend Larry comes in.  One day about a year and a half ago, we were chatting about having writing partners.  Both of us came to the same conclusion: we want someone to push us, but we don't want to have a partner.  So I suggested we be each other's wingman.  We would get together once a week or so (depending on our schedules) and check in about how the writing's going.  We would meet up at a coffee place in his hood, which was fine.  But eventually the new West Hollywood Library opened up and we decided that we should meet up to write and to chat.  So we give ourselves three hours.  That's the length of free parking you have in the library parking lot.  We meet up generally on Wednesdays from 11-2.  We work for about 90 minutes and then talk for 90 minutes.  It helps having a set appointment every week.  And it's good just to talk about what we're working on and encouraging each other.

My friend Susan and I do that just in weekly check-ins, either in person or on the phone.  My wingwoman relationship with Susan is much more on a holistic, spiritual level.  She'll do my tarot cards.  We'll get together for lunch.  We'll have dinner at her place.  I'll babysit her kid, then we'll hang out afterwards.  But it's just a good touchstone.  Lately, we've been going on walks together. Talking about the things we want for ourselves.

My friend Elyzabeth, who now teaches in Tennessee, and I try to do that when we can.  But she's got a young daughter and a busy schedule.  We hardly find time to get together on the phone.  But we're always thinking about each other and keeping each other on top of various submission and teaching opportunities.  Actually, she's been letting me know what's out there more than the reverse lately.

And lately, my friend Andrea and I have been getting together on days that I'm not meeting with Larry at the library.  Our sessions are longer.  We do a couple of hours, then lunch, then a couple more hours.  She's applying for graduate schools.  I'm working on these play rewrites.  But we're both there for each other to make sure we keep our heads above water.

When I was teaching, I stressed the importance of having a personal network of people you trust who keep you on your toes.  Even as a student, I knew the importance of having people who believed in me when other people maybe didn't get it yet.  And these wing people keep my head on straight.  I love having them in my life.  They are people I respect and admire.  I think they're talented and they're just good people.  And when I look at the work I need to get done before the end of the year, I know I need them more than ever.

Revising the Message

My friend Jenn asked me to do a guest blog on her website.  She was an undergrad at NYU while I was a grad student there.  She remembered me as a go-getter and a networker.  So she asked if I would write up my Top Five Networking Tips for Writers.  I thought it was so sweet that she asked, so I said yes.  I wrote up the following, but then she told me it needed to be 300 words or less.  I wrote 3500 words.

So I sat down with the task of writing 300 words of less of advice.  I did several drafts.  Then I stopped. What I wanted to write was different than what she wanted me to write.  She really wanted a short summary.  I wanted to write a novel and I wanted to give some context to my advice.  Then I realized I was tripping up on the word "tips."  After sleeping on it, I wrote something completely different that was really about what to do if you don't like talking about yourself.  That will be on her site at some point soon, after I look it over and send it to her.  But I thought I would include what I originally wrote here, complete with some stories to illustrate my five points.  

Through writing this, I realized that I'm not the same person I was all of those years ago.  I'm glad she remembers me so fondly, but I was a little relentless.  What I wrote below is a lot more warm and fuzzy than I would have written ten years ago.  And what I'm giving Jenn will be softer as well, but we live in a world where we need "tips."  I get it.  Shortcuts.  Maybe this will seem long-winded and you'll be begging for my tips.  Just the tips.

When people talk about breaking into the TV writing business, they often say that there’s no one way to break in.  And that’s true.  They also say that it’s all about the work and if you’re talented, the powers that be will find you.  “Cream rises to the top.”  That’s true as well. 

But you’re interested in any sort of dramatic writing, you write so that your words can be heard and your stories can be seen.  It’s a public art form.  And at a certain point, you have to get off your behind and toot your own horn.  If this isn’t your natural inclination, I have two things to say:

First, the writing gene and the self-promoting gene are not related.  As all writers know, we’ve observers.  We like to hide behind our words and comment on the things around us.  We don’t like to be directly involved in the action.  So don’t beat yourself up because talking about yourself doesn’t come naturally.  The important thing is that you come across as a) knowledgeable and b) completely yourself.

Secondly, you need to get over it.  Networking is necessary.  You need to people to get to know who you are as a person and then as a writer.  You don’t need to be the person in the room demanding everyone’s attention--unless that’s honestly who you are.  Authenticity is important in your daily life, in your writing and it’s important when you’re presenting yourself to people.  Your primary goal should be to meet new people and have a nice conversation.  Then the business can be a happy byproduct of an honest connection. 

Listen, when I was in my twenties and early thirties I was definitely the kind of person who would make my agenda crystal clear.  And I think sometimes I came off as overbearing.  I masked that by being funny and entertaining, but I think that could have come across as trying too hard.  You should have an agenda and these conversations are business conversations.  You can’t run away from those facts.  But coming off as a used car salesman doesn’t prove how ambitious you are.  It just proves that you’re good at the hard sell.  And usually, the hard sell means that you’re overcompensating for some sort of flaw or insecurity.  At least, it can come across that way.

With that being said, here are my Five Top Networking Tips for Writers. 

1)   Find your Network.  Networking tips are great coming from some know-it-all writer, but what first you have to acknowledge that you even have a network to begin with.   You may be thinking, “Who do I know?”  Either you’re outside of New York or LA or you’re just out of school or you’re not even doing anything that’s related to the entertainment industry.  So start with that question: “Who Do I Know?”  And make a list.  If you’re a student, start with your professors.  Did you cultivate relationships while you were in school?  Did you go in during office hours to chat with your professors about your classwork or anything under the sun?  Does anyone know you beyond just being a hard-working student?  And if you weren’t a hard-worker then you should just stop reading now.  Because no one’s going to root for you or put in a good word for you if they think you’re lazy or have a bad attitude.  I’m assuming if you’re looking for advice, you’re already amazing and talented and special.

When you’re just starting out—young or older and switching gears—it’s hard to realize that you have people you can reach out to.  But this is the first task of networking.  Find Your Network.  Who can help you?  And it can be your brother or your cousin’s barber’s niece’s gardener’s fiance’s father-in-law.  It is better if the connection is as close in proximity as possible.  But a connection is a connection.  And that’s how you start building your network.  Also, this is the perfect set up to use tips 2-5.

2)   Don’t Be Shy.  Okay, so you have your list and you’re ready to reach out to people.  OR you’re at a party and you’re thinking about how it’s going to come off if you just walk up to someone cold and introduce yourself.  But you’re thinking that you don’t want to appear too desperate.  Or you think that you’re not very interesting.  Or you don’t know what to say.  Or you don’t even have the courage to walk up to someone and say hello or to send an email to your cousin’s barber’s niece’s gardener’s fiance’s father-in-law. 

You can’t be shy about these things.  I know it’s hard.  But think about what you want: an agent, a writing job, an interview…an opportunity.  You’ll never get there alone.  And you need someone to feel like they should help you out.  You need to give them a reason to.  And you can’t give them a reason if they don’t even get the chance to discover what a sweet/ funny/ interesting/ charming/ goofy person you are.  You want to endear yourself to them. 

Along with Don’t Be Shy goes Don’t Be Intimidated.  Because that’s why we’re often hesitant, right?  Listen, if this person chooses to be a jerk to you, then that’s about them and not about you.  I remember I was with a friend at the Palm Springs International Film Festival back when I was in graduate school.  And I was standing at a buffet next to M. Night Shamalyan.  So I went up to him and said that I was a fan of his (even though I hadn’t seen The Sixth Sense…btw, this isn’t a story encouraging you to lie).  I knew that he had gone to NYU, so I mentioned that I was in graduate school.  And he gave me some advice: It’s going to be a lot of hard work, so just be prepared.  Okay, maybe not the most profound advice.  But here was a guy who had become successful and had a vision for himself.  He worked hard and it paid off.  He was an accomplished filmmaker and I was just a young graduate student.  I thought he might have some advice for me, so I walked up to him.  I knew the NYU thing was a good in.  It meant that I was smart and talented and not just a loon.  But I could have just as easily just let him walk away.  And that advice has served me.  It also gave me the encouragement to walk up to more people that I might be shy about approaching.

3)   Don’t Be Sad (or Uncertain…or a Know-It-All).  So once you have the courage to send that email or walk up to that famous film director, remember one thing: Don’t Do Anything that Cuts Off the Conversation Too Soon.   I know that as writers we can be hard on ourselves.  We keep writing that script 17 times (and counting) because it’s just not perfect yet.  We don’t start that script yet because we’ve still got research to do, even though we’ve been researching for the past six months and have checked out every book in the library and read every article on the subject online.  Or we finally hand that special contact the script we said we’d send over.  And we say something we think it humble:  “It’s not very good.”  WTF? So you’ve worked hard to write a list of the people you know with connections to the industry, you’ve summoned up the courage to get an email or a meeting or you’ve decided to walk up cold and introduce yourself and you have the chutzpah to open your mouth only to shoot yourself in the foot?

It’s not humble to tell everyone what a schmuck you think you are.  It’s not a good idea to lower expectations.  I know I said earlier that you shouldn’t work the hard sell, but there is a happy medium somewhere.  Whether you’re meeting someone at your best friend’s wedding, at a bar, at the gym or in a meeting, remember this: No One Wants to Talk to the Sad Guy.  Don’t be sad.  Don’t be hard on yourself.  Don’t sell yourself short.  You worked your ass off on that script you wrote.  You want people to get excited about you. 

And you want to be sure of yourself.  Here’s another story about the time Vince Vaughn…okay, these are not all celebrity stories.  There’s a reason I’m telling these stories and it’s not just to brag about meeting celebrities.  But it illustrates that I have put myself in the position of being in the right place at the right time.  My best friend was doing a movie with Vince Vaughn before Swingers hit.  I was just fresh out of college.  So this was before Vince Vaughn was a celebrity.  He asked me what I did.  “I’m a writer,” I said.  “But not a writer like you’re an actor.  You’re on set.  You’re acting.  You’re making it happen.”  He looked at me: “Do you write?”  I nodded.  “Then you’re a writer.”  And from that point on, I stopped putting myself down in front of people who could be helpful.  Thankfully, Vince just saw my sad sack attitude as me being young.  But that’s the sort of thing that can make people walk away.  If you’re uncertain about you, I have no reason to be certain about you. 

And on the flip of that, don’t be a know it all.  Because if you’ve got it all together, you don’t need my help.  You have to invite people in to want to help you.  Here’s an example of something I figured out recently.  I think I’m a confident, intelligent and interesting person.  I think I follow all of these tips and I think that it has worked out for me.  But I started realizing that I was pursuing people a lot more than they were pursuing me.  The point of networking is to pursue people.  I know that.  But it felt like other people around me were getting producers, writers and other industry folks to help them out.  I had a little bit of a “Why Not Me” moment about it.  Then I had a realization.

I come in guns blazing, ready to impress.  I talk about my accomplishments.  I listen.  I engage.  I seem like I have it all together.  And that’s the problem.  I’m not saying that you should be a mess so that people take pity on you.  But if the other person sees an opportunity where they can be of use to someone who is confident, intelligent and interesting, but still could use some assistance, they’re going to reach out.  If there isn’t an opening for them to do so, they’re not.  People want to be a part of your success.  They want to feel like they’re doing something useful.  Or they want to know that maybe you’re someone who can help them out in the future, so they’ll put in a little investment so they can ask for a favor down the line. 

4)   Don’t Waste Anyone’s Time.  This is a lesson I learned when I was working for a well-known TV literary manager.  I would have people who would call me all of the time, wanting advice or wanting information about where to send a query letter.  If it was clear that the caller hadn’t taken the time to research who we were or what kind of material we would respond to, I got them off the phone in 45 seconds or less.  But if that person had informed questions, I could be on the phone for 20 minutes.  If you’re asking inane questions, 45 seconds or less is a huge waste of my time.  If you’re respectful of my time, 20 minutes is no problem. 

You have to be aware of who you are speaking to and you have to have some sort of goal.  You can’t just talk someone’s ear off for the sake of talking their ear off.  I remember recently I was at a networking event for students of mine in LA.  Being an alumnus of the same university, one of my students suggested I show up, even though most of the alums at the party were much younger than me.  I was introduced to a producer who was being bombarded by students and alums who just wanted to talk to him, but had no focus to their conversations.  I had no intention of really networking, since I was there to answer some questions, and I knew the event was really geared towards recent grads.  But we started talking and sharing our experiences.  He mentioned that he was looking for a new project, so we exchanged information.  But in the meantime, we talked about my teaching experiences because he was interested in teaching as well.  We had a valuable, worthwhile conversation that was about our love of TV, our passion for share our experiences and that led to what I was working on, which fortunately sounded interesting to him.

The important thing to remember is that you need to have an appropriate answer to certain basic questions, including some of the following:
What are you watching? 
What films/TV shows do you like? 
What’s your story? 
What inspires you?

I often talk to writers who say, “I don’t like talking about myself.”  It’s this false humility thing. “The work speaks for itself.”  But it doesn’t.  It needs a context.  We need to know how the story of your play/movie/TV pilot connects to you.  We need to know why you’re the only person who could write this story.  Talking about yourself is just a way of connecting to your material.  If you want to communicate through your work, you need to learn to communicate about your work. 

The other thing that people do to waste their time and to waste the time of the person they’re speaking to is related to Tip #3.  It’s putting yourself down.  If someone is looking to hire you or to put you in contact with someone who could hire you, you should never admit to anything that makes you appear to be less than the Hardest Working Person in Showbiz.

I worked for two producers who would always come back from their staffing meetings (where they interviewed writers to hire them on their staff) and would tell me what never to do.  And although, I would never think I would be guilty of any of the sins they had heard, I listened with great attention.  But the biggest faux pas people committed (on all levels, not just Staff Writer candidates) was that they admitted to not working hard.  They admitted to not finishing drafts very fast.  They admitted to not always having a ton of ideas.  They admitted to not liking outlines.  What my bosses got from that was that they were going to be a huge pain in the ass because they didn’t work fast and hard.  Given the pace of television, there’s just no time for that. 

You can’t tell someone that you have a hard time writing.  Or that you only write a script every year or two.  I know that you think that tells people how serious you are about your writing and that you don’t want to rush something good.  But all they want to know is that you’re brilliant and fast.  You have to be both.  You have to be prolific and a genius.  You need to “hit it out of the park.”  Another favorite term of agents and managers.  Yes, it’s an impossible ideal, but you have to perpetuate that idea that you are Superman or Wonder Woman.  They don’t want to hear your problems.  It doesn’t make you more serious in their eyes.  It just means that you’re too precious or too lazy.  And it’s a waste of time.

5)   Do Follow Up/Share.  Take the card.  Give them yours.  And follow up.  If you say you’re sending a script, do it ASAP (within a few days of being given the permission to send a script). 

If you sent a script, give them 3-4 weeks to read it.  They will most likely take 3-4 months, but don’t follow up a week later.  Unless they tell you to.  But if they’re as important and busy as they say they are, they’ve got a lot to read.  Then follow up every 3-4 weeks. 

Re: Being Annoying – You can’t worry about it.  Use some common sense and judgment.  Think about what it would feel like if someone emailed you every week: “Did you read it?  Did you read it?  Did you read it?”  Annoying.  But what’s annoying to one person, won’t be annoying to everyone.  And I’m talking about them, not you.  If you’re annoying, in most cases you have a sense of that. I know that some people have no idea when they’re being annoying, so if that’s the case, you’ll read this sentence and you won’t think it applies to you.  Emailing to follow up is always better than calling.

Be sure to share when good things are happening.  If you’ve got a show coming up, use that as an excuse to send an email to remind a producer who has had your script for six months to read it.  My friend Susan has an email list of contacts and she bcc’s them as a group (very important – don’t give away other people’s emails or privacy) whenever she’s got an event or a play reading or production.  She’s the queen of sharing.  She Facebooks and uses Twitter to share when good things have happened.  It lets people know that she’s working hard.

I Facebook and Tweet about writing.  I send links to my blog.  I announce when I have a writing day.  I tweet about how many pages I’ve written.  And that could border on being annoying.  That’s why I didn’t do it for so long.  I didn’t want people to think I was bragging.  I didn’t want people to think I was showing off.  But then I realized that all I was saying was that writing is a daily practice.  Maybe it’ll help me get a job indirectly one day.  Maybe it won’t.  At the very least, it keeps me accountable.  At the very most, it lets influential people know that I am committed to my craft every day.  I have the courage to stare at the blank page every single day.  And I write a lot: pilots, plays, blogs, posts.  And I’m funny.  And self-depricating (but not in a downer way).  They get to know my personality.  And they’re reminded that I’m out there.  I’m fresh in their mind.

That’s how I got my teaching job.  My job had just ended.  I was taking some time off because my father had just gotten sick.  I had time on my hands, but I wanted to be productive.  So I reached out to a bunch of different folk.  But one of the emails I sent was to a former professor and the head of the Theatre department at my alma mater.  I told her that I was available and would be more than happy to offer some workshops to students on either the Business of Writing or a master class in Playwriting.  She got back to me within days, calling me to tell me that the Playwriting professor had to take a day off in October and if I was interested, they’d fly me up and put me up in a hotel to sub in for him.  That sounded awesome.  More than I expected.  Then two weeks later, she called me again and told me he needed to take the entire term off unexpectedly and asked if I would be interested in teaching his Intro to Playwriting class.  I jumped at the chance.  I always wanted to see if I could teach on the University level.  And that happened just because I reached out.  So don’t be afraid to reach out to your network.

BONUS: Don’t Network Without a Good Reason.  This last bonus tip is about one simple thing: have material or have a reason to reach out.  If you’re a writer, make sure you’ve got a lot of material that is consistent with the type of writer you are, that tells the story of who you are, and that is varied enough that it doesn’t seem like the same story over and over again.  Networking is important.  But if you’re just schmoozing and you don’t have the material to back it up, it’s a wasted opportunity.  That seems like an obvious tip.  Hell, maybe all of these seem obvious. But we all need to be reminded of stuff that we already know, things that we think we’re already doing.  I hope this has been helpful to you on some level.  I’m just sharing what I’ve learned and what I have observed. 

Like anything, take what you need and leave what you don’t.