Tuesday, July 22, 2014

The Fruits of My Labor

I finish a script.
Immediately, I think of where I can send it out to.
Or I have finished this script specifically for a certain fellowship, contest, producer, agent, manger, executive, etc.
The script has a destination.
And I expect the script to reach its destination.
Therefore, I have an expectation.

It's hard not to have expectations.
For so long, I felt like if I wasn't setting a goal (aka an expectation)
then I wasn't putting forth a real intention.
I wasn't manifesting
or visualizing
or expecting something to come of it.
I wasn't putting for the necessary energy it takes for things to happen.
I wasn't working.

These are all the things I would tell myself.
I wrote a brilliant spec script of The Office years ago
where all of the characters switched jobs.  It was a bastardization of a job sharing program
that had been initiated by Dunder Mifflin to increase unity in the office through understanding
what other people in the office do.  Michael thought it would be even more effective for people
just to job swap without any training.
It was funny.
It was inspired.
People seemed to like it.
I never got a job off of it.
I did get a couple of good meetings.
But only a couple.

I remember thinking, "That's as good as I'm going to get as a comedy writer."
The idea was great.
The execution was great.
People would compare other scripts to that one.
"I like this 30 Rock spec, but it's not as good as The Office."
Yes, I have been at this long enough to where
spec scripts were the norm.  Now it's original pilots.
I'd like to think that the Universe did me a solid
when original pilots became the norm.
Now I had the opportunity to showcase my voice.
But in those earlier days, I was feeling defeated because
I had a few great specs:
Will and Grace, Sex and the City, The Office, 30 Rock, Modern Family.
Ones I loved more than others did:
Bernie Mac.
And others that totally flopped or that I never sent out:
The New Adventures of Old Christine, Entourage, True Blood, Glee.
I even had one that I wrote recently for a few fellowships that still use this old model:
House of Cards.

I won't even judge it.  Because it's not about how good it is.
I wanted to write something dark and political and a little over the top.
I had writing challenges I was giving myself.
The work went into accomplishing that goal,
not trying to craft a script that would get me the fellowship
because that I can't predict.
I have nothing to do with that.
I have made the effort,
done everything I can,
and the rest is up to what is supposed to happen.
But I won't feel shitty about myself if I don't get in.
I am enjoying victory already because I felt like my work on that
script made me a better writer, a darker writer, a more confident writer,
and a writer who's more fearless.
That's enough.

There's a saying that you can only claim your labor, not the fruits of your labor.
I am learning and living that lesson every day.
In fact, it's what I concentrated on in my morning meditation earlier.
I will continue to focus on that one because it's a difficult one to get.
And again, I could misguide myself by expecting to "get it" just because
I want to get it.  And getting it means getting it tomorrow.

I love the work.
I love coming into my office.
I love reading.
I love researching.
I love writing.
I love talking about writing.
I love being around writers.
I love doing this blog.
I love involving myself in characters.

I had a conversation with a good friend this morning about this very topic.  She mentioned that it's harder to get excited about writing when you're writing characters who aren't your own or when you're writing something that isn't yours.  That's hard to dispute.  It is hard to get excited about that stuff.  And for her, that translates in less of a desire to get staffed on a show and more of a desire to develop her own work because it's her own.  I understand this thought process.

But what I didn't say in our conversation because I didn't think it was important and I wanted to honor where she was coming from was that for me getting that staff job would be about other things.  It couldn't be about making my voice as loudly heard as the creators.  It couldn't be about fulfilling my need to put my voice out there front and center.  It couldn't be about things that writing on a show that someone else created doesn't allow you to do by its very nature.

But it could be about productivity.  It could be about deadlines.  It could be about learning more about production.  It could be about a daily practice of being more comfortable pitching ideas.  It could be about understanding the dynamics of a writers' office/ writers' room.  It could be about figuring out how to balance work and home life.  It could be about letting go of the need to feel validated constantly.  It could be about observing what to do and what not to do when it's my turn.

Of course none of these are prerequisites to having one's own show, even though the hierarchy says it is.  You could go right in and start running a show.  Plenty of people done it and succeeded.  And plenty of people have fallen on their asses.  It's hard to know which will happen until you're in that situation.

Of course, I can have that experience now.  I go into my office at 10 AM and I usually leave between 5 and 6 PM.  I have great hours.  The hours on a TV show wouldn't be up to me and might be crazier than that.  I have things I need to get done every day: writing, budgets, social media, web stuff, production, finances, going after money, research, development, looking for the rights for properties, meetings with writers, collaborations, etc.

Before I had my office I did that at the Wi Spa or a coffee shop or Starbucks or the Weho Library.

Before I had those places, I did that at home.

Before I worked from home, I did that before my boss got to work, during lunch, when he wasn't looking and after work.

Of course, having an office facilitates all the things I need to do to run my own production and writers office.  And all of my effort and focus has lead to this place.  Okay, so I'm still not getting paid to write.  And I have an office.  But having an office makes it clear where to send the checks.  And it gives me a place where I expect the checks to be sent.

But I'm at it.  Every day.

I'm reading Russell Simmons' previous book called Super Rich: A Guide to Having It All.  And it's about a lot of things.  One thing it's not about is manifesting money.  It's not The Secret.  No judgment, but all roads towards intention don't lead to The Secret.

But one thing Russell says in his book is that in order to get things to happen and to get paid, first you need to start giving things away for free.

Take a moment.  The reaction you're having is the one you should be having.  What the fuck?

How does that work?

But when you give your work away or your...


  • advice
  • love
  • compassion
  • understanding 
  • music
  • writing
  • knowledge
  • life lessons
…You are saying that you are taking credit for the work you put in, for your labor.  And that the work needs to be out there no matter what.  This is what people mean if they really mean it when they say: "I love it so much, I would do it for free."  It takes a lot of doing it for free.  Because that means you'll get up every day, no matter what the conditions are to do your job.  The minute you say you'll only do it for money, is the moment when your intention changes.  If you love it so much you'll do it for free, then you've taken it seriously enough for people to start paying you for it.  People will only pay you for something that has value, not something you pick up once in a blue moon.  Or something you threw together without much effort.  It doesn't always have to take a lot of time, but it has to have come from a place of intention and effort.  And when you love what you do so much and so deeply that you do it all of the time regardless of getting paid, then you've put the 10,000 hours in (thanks Malcolm Gladwell) and you've crafted and shaped and honed and perfected it enough for people to pay you for it.  And the more you do your work on a continual basis the more value it has, the better you get, the more consistent you get, the more focused you get, the more intentional you get and then the fruits of your labor are a by-product, not the goal.

As the old saying goes,

You have to be here now to be there then.

If you're only worried about that happens at the end, you don't put enough effort in to get to the end.  Or to have enough of a harvest at the end.

It's complicated.  It's hard.  It's a mind shift.  

I understand all of that.  My perspective has changed over time.  I'm learning so much about myself that I never knew.  And I have more of a sense of humor about things now.  It's hard to be in that stuck place.  And I was stuck for more years than I care to admit.  Too long.  But I had allowed a certain hierarchical mentality to seep in.  I forgot about the carefree days when I didn't have to worry about money, so I did it all for the love and tons of things happened for me.  It's difficult to be at a different stage of your life and feel like you have to give the freedom up to be a "grown up."  Dustin Hoffman said once that he hates that word because it's made up.  You can be an adult.  Adulthood is an actual state of being.  But being a "grown up?"  It's some sort of place that people made up when they wanted you to stop having the joys and freedoms that come with youth.  Then they decided it was time to stop playing around and to grow up.  We're always growing.  But that doesn't mean you have to give up a sense of joy and wonder.  Having a bank account doesn't mean you stop being curious.  Having a house doesn't mean that you have to stop being curious.  And vice versa.  Being full of light and wonder and curiosity doesn't mean that you shouldn't have financial security.  

But we place so much emphasis on the fruits of our labor, as if they're going to solve all of our problems.  Like they're the perfect lover or perfect parent who's going to take all of our pain away.  Like once we have money, fame, recognition, respect all of our fears and insecurities will melt away.  Like Anna Deavere Smith said once, "Let's give doubt a try."  Don't be afraid of it.  Sit next to it.  You might learn something from just letting it be there and not being threatened by it.  

Like, how to be less doubtful.  For example.

I am grateful for friendship.
I am grateful for the work I do every day.
I am grateful for a place to drive to every day.
I am grateful that I have friends who are in the same boat.
I am grateful to be encouraged and loved.
I am grateful for a sense of fun.
I am grateful that I know my value and my worth.
I am grateful for air conditioning in this office, even when it's too cold.
I am grateful for the check I got today for some work I did.

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