Last month I revisited The War of Art, a favorite book of mine. It's a book that has changed my life when I first read it thirteen years ago. I tell people that the book is responsible for my change of perspective in regards to my career. I try to concentrate on the work and not all of the outside noise that surrounds the work. I try to drown out the voices that tell me I need to compare myself to other people. It takes the mantra "everyone has their own journey" to a different level.
About two or three years ago, I realized that Steven Pressfield had written another book that takes the lessons of The War of Art and deepens them. I remember reading that book, Turning Pro, and feeling like this is what I needed to focus on. It took the lessons from the first book and made them practical for me. I suddenly realized that turning Pro is what I needed to do. It was around the time that I took an office in Silverlake that I realized that it wasn't enough to get rid of Resistance, that I needed to turn Pro. In a lot of ways, I feel like this book is a lot clearer to me. The last section of The War of Art still has aspects to me that feel abstract. But this book was straightforward in the best way all the way through. And it's the book I recommend people read right after The War of Art.
I thought it was appropriate to include my reflections on this book, in addition to the thoughts I had about The War of Art. The basic philosophy is laid out in the first book and in Turning Pro, he lays out the action. After I reflected on The War of Art, I started to notice that my friends were responding to me differently. I basically took an online course in the first book and that started to change my energy to people. My friend David, who I mention in my previous post, remarked that I don't seem like I worry. I credit both The War of Art and Turning Pro in this change in vibration. I have spent a year watching a lot of people worry about a lot of things and I just get deeper underneath that anxiety - like a wave crashing over my head - and I pop back up after the anxiety makes its way past me. I duck. That's my best strategy.
Why did I spend so much time hating myself? Growing up my father felt like he had to tear me down in order to build me back up. He felt that I was too soft as a kid. He thought I would be taken advantage of and that I would let people walk all over me. So he hit me. And he verbally attacked me. He was training me to fight back. And I did fight back. Then he would argue with me. And I would argue back. Eventually, I got really good at a come back. Then I don't think he liked that. His ego got involved and I was accused of thinking I was smarter than him. My father started calling me a snob and accusing me of thinking I was better.
I got it stuck in my head that if I was too smart or too articulate that people wouldn't like it. I had a love/hate relationship with my intellect because I realized it kept me distant from my family. It meant that I was taking too many steps forward. I lived for years like this - dumbing myself down or staying quiet so that others could be heard. I did it in school. I did it with friends. I did it in relationships.
Last night, I had a conversation with a close friend that felt like the end of that - even though I didn't realize it at the time. My friend David remarked that I seem not to worry about things. Did I feel like I had "made it" because I had written on a show or joined a theatre company or joined the WGA? No. I didn't feel like I had made it. Why would he think that? Am I getting too big for my britches? Dad's voice creeped back into my head in the form of one of my closest male friends. I was vulnerable to this negative talk. David wasn't being negative. He wasn't even aware of the message I was hearing in what he was saying. It was our old friend Resistance who inhabited my friend's body and started to say things it knew would derail me. It was a sneak attack.
I didn't fall for it. Well, I fell for it a little. But once Resistance got that first punch in, I shook my head to realize what was happening. My friend was right, I had put a lot of anxiety to rest. It no longer serves me. And he had highlighted me that there was a space where that anxiety once was. It was productivity. I am twice or three times as productive as I used to be because I don't spend a lot of time in worry. I spend more time in work. Sure, things get to me. Sure I have anxiety. It never goes away. But I know how to deal with it now. David helped me realized how far I have come and it made me realize that Resistance is an enemy that is there waiting by my door every day, trying to find its way in. It's relentless and it's sneaky.
This year was not the year I turned Pro. Contrary to popular observation, I did not become a Professional because I have a WGA membership card. I did not become a Professional because I have my first writing credit on two and a half episodes of television. I did not become a Professional because I wrote some really good scripts this year or because I was asked to join a theatre company. I became a Professional years ago, after being "in" the business for years. I was around the business. I was an observer, a tailgater. But I wasn't in the arena.
I had written some good things. I had a spec of "The Office" that people really liked. I was the assistant to and a client of one of the hottest TV literary managers in the business. I had a bunch of meetings. I had come close to a lot of things. I lived in West Hollywood with my agent boyfriend and we had two dogs and the life. We ate at Cecconi's several times a week and travelled on private planes and luxury automobiles with celebrities. I had all of the trappings and it made me miserable. I wasn't writing as much as I was managing two oversized personalities. That took up all of my time. And I wasn't getting any younger.
When we broke up, I didn't become a Professional. When I left that job and moved onto a job working with two showrunners who were incredibly nice to me, I still wasn't a Professional. I had professional jobs and worked with studio and network executives. I knew a lot of movers and shakers. My Dad got sick and I took care of him. I had to take him to doctor's appointments and I had to make sure he was taking his medicine. Every night I would write while he slept. That might have been the moment I started to turn Pro. I started writing to survive. I was able to turn off the voices of doubt. I wasn't writing to get a job. I didn't know when I'd be able to work because my Dad needed me. I wasn't sure I'd even become a paid writer. In the moment, I wrote because I had to have something that was mine because I was giving everything I had to someone who needed me.
Then he died. I questioned what I even wanted. I was in therapy for a full year. I wasn't working. I was collecting unemployment and writing. I had a new boyfriend who was understanding, yet also felt like work would get me "back to normal." I kept waiting for a sign of what I should do. I didn't have any money. But I had a lot of time to write. I applied for a lot of jobs - none of which I got. I had all sorts of skills to do all sorts of things, but no one wanted me. Again, I realized that I had one resource in spades: time. So I wrote.
That's the year I turned Pro.
I had no money. But a lot of time. And I used what I had. So I started writing a lot more. I eventually got an office offered to me and I took it. Then I had a space and a time to write. Around that time, I discovered Turning Pro. And that's what took me on this journey. More on that throughout these posts.
My intention is to extend.
My intention is to excel.
My intention is to expand.
I am grateful for these books.
I am grateful for Pat Benetar's Greatest Hits - which was on sale, btw.
I am grateful for the words.
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