What kind of plays do you write?
Plays of desire.
(from the imaginary interview that constantly continues inside my head)
I was waking up this morning and standing at the toilet peeing. That's when I figured out that the plays I write are plays of desire. Twenty years of writing plays and I finally figure that out. I used to think that the plays I write are plays of identity. And that is fine. I believe that identity fits into some of my plays, but not all of them. But I just looked at all of my plays and I realized that desire is in all of them. Sexual desire. The desire to belong or succeed. Objectification. The desire to be more. The desire to have what everyone else has. It's in every single one of my plays. And I'm about to embark on a seven play series that's all about desire. It's about coveting. It's about wanting what someone else has. So desire is consistent in my work. It's also consistent in my life. The feeling of desire, of wanting, of longing. There's something seductive about that. There's also a lot that's destructive about it as well. But the feeling of desire is very much an aphrodisiac to me.
The origin of this epiphany came from an article I read announcing a TV project from a writer I know. And I thought, "Wow, that's something I could write. That's something I am writing about, but what I'm writing about takes it one step further." There's a lot in the zeitgeist about sex and sexuality from an intellectual point of view. I need to finish this play that I'm rewriting! But something is definitely in the air. So I was thinking about this writer and this project and I thought about how what I'm writing could be a great TV show (which coincidentally was an idea I had over a year ago and a brilliant friend of mine convinced me to write it as a play). Then I thought about what that play is about and the word DESIRE popped out. It also felt sexy. My plays are about desire. You can just see the smoke from the cigarette I'm smoking as I'm telling you that. You can feel the charge that's created when someone hears that.
And I don't know anyone who's writing those plays. I don't know anyone who's writing the way I'm writing. With an air of every day conversation and intimacy. For me, besides theatricality, plays are there to talk about the things that people aren't talking about in ways they aren't talking about them. Theatre is the forerunner. It's the risk taker. It's the pioneer. You can do that in terms of form. But you can also do that in terms of content.
So that's what I'm doing. I always tell my students that writing is an exercise in finding their own voice. It turns out that the task of finding your voice doesn't just end because you start using that voice. It's the action of using your voice that helps you discover and experience your voice on a deeper level the more that you use it.
Showing posts with label 2013. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2013. Show all posts
Monday, June 3, 2013
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Go Deeper
I realized why I have been having such a hard time working on this rewrite.
I need to go deeper.
I plotted out the story of this new draft. And while all of those things need to happen and all of those scenes move the action forward, I can't write to the story.
I have to know where they need to go, but I need to let them go there. I have to LET THEM GO. That phrase keeps repeating in my life. Just let it go.
I have to not use any of the previous stuff I had before, even though a part of me loves some of that dialogue and it would be easier. But I'm not the person I was when I sat down to write the play over a year ago. My relationship is deeper. The questions I'm asking are deeper. I need to be more honest.
All of these life events happen that seem ordinary, but what happens to these particular people...
I had a conversation with someone today at the spa. He was saying that he loves songs from the American Songbook. He said that those songs can be sung over and over again the same way, but they don't mean anything unless you bring something to them. You have to interpret them.
Things happen to these characters that have happened to people over the past several centuries over and over again. People meet. They marry. They want to have kids. They argue about their sex lives. They break up. They stay together. None of that is new. But the interpretation makes it fresh. What these individuals bring to these universal rites of passage is what makes it seem fresh.
So while I didn't get a ton of writing done...I attempted. And that's when I realized it didn't work. But I accomplished something significant. In this conversation, I had this epiphany. The American Songbook still moves us because it's so universal. But those songs continue to touch us because they are interpreted through our experiences, our contemporary time and our emotions. That's what makes a great version of a song we've heard before like At Last, The Very Thought of You, Night and Day and the list goes on and on.
Sometimes the Universe speaks to us in ways that are unexpected. It's the "God works in mysterious ways" concept. I was having a feeling I needed a day away to just write and hole up. I ran into this guy, Marc, who I had met the last time I was here. Randomly. We chatted up and had this conversation about the American Songbook. We were talking about songs and he mentioned The Very Thought of You, which is the song I was thinking about. Weird. And I got the gift of having this epiphany and realization through this conversation. So that was meant to be.
I like being available to what the Universe is trying to tell me. You have to quiet things down in order to hear what you're meant to know.
Go Deeper.
I need to go deeper.
I plotted out the story of this new draft. And while all of those things need to happen and all of those scenes move the action forward, I can't write to the story.
I have to know where they need to go, but I need to let them go there. I have to LET THEM GO. That phrase keeps repeating in my life. Just let it go.
I have to not use any of the previous stuff I had before, even though a part of me loves some of that dialogue and it would be easier. But I'm not the person I was when I sat down to write the play over a year ago. My relationship is deeper. The questions I'm asking are deeper. I need to be more honest.
All of these life events happen that seem ordinary, but what happens to these particular people...
I had a conversation with someone today at the spa. He was saying that he loves songs from the American Songbook. He said that those songs can be sung over and over again the same way, but they don't mean anything unless you bring something to them. You have to interpret them.
Things happen to these characters that have happened to people over the past several centuries over and over again. People meet. They marry. They want to have kids. They argue about their sex lives. They break up. They stay together. None of that is new. But the interpretation makes it fresh. What these individuals bring to these universal rites of passage is what makes it seem fresh.
So while I didn't get a ton of writing done...I attempted. And that's when I realized it didn't work. But I accomplished something significant. In this conversation, I had this epiphany. The American Songbook still moves us because it's so universal. But those songs continue to touch us because they are interpreted through our experiences, our contemporary time and our emotions. That's what makes a great version of a song we've heard before like At Last, The Very Thought of You, Night and Day and the list goes on and on.
Sometimes the Universe speaks to us in ways that are unexpected. It's the "God works in mysterious ways" concept. I was having a feeling I needed a day away to just write and hole up. I ran into this guy, Marc, who I had met the last time I was here. Randomly. We chatted up and had this conversation about the American Songbook. We were talking about songs and he mentioned The Very Thought of You, which is the song I was thinking about. Weird. And I got the gift of having this epiphany and realization through this conversation. So that was meant to be.
I like being available to what the Universe is trying to tell me. You have to quiet things down in order to hear what you're meant to know.
Go Deeper.
Don't Feel Like Writing
I'm here at the Wii spa and taking a day to be quiet and to write. I even brought my computer and I've attempted to do some writing here and there. But I'm stalling out.
I have this play to rewrite, so I thought that taking a day by myself would help stimulate the creative juices. I've been here for three hours. I've eaten. I've steamed. I've saunaed. I've showered. I've slept. I've interneted. But no real writing so far.
The good thing is that I can be here as long as I want to. At least until 4 AM. So we'll see how things progress. I doubt I'll be here that whole time, but who knows? I'll provide updates.
I have this play to rewrite, so I thought that taking a day by myself would help stimulate the creative juices. I've been here for three hours. I've eaten. I've steamed. I've saunaed. I've showered. I've slept. I've interneted. But no real writing so far.
The good thing is that I can be here as long as I want to. At least until 4 AM. So we'll see how things progress. I doubt I'll be here that whole time, but who knows? I'll provide updates.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
The Mountain
The Drummer took me on a hike last week. My quads are still in pain.
He has been going on this hike in Burbank that's mostly incline. Apparently, you climb 2700 feet during the course of the hike. It sounded all right. I am in decent shape. Well, I haven't been to the gym much lately. But I'm not fat. I ran a marathon! Okay, that was five years ago. But still!
So we drive up to the park where we need to start the hike. He keeps pointing out how high up we have to climb. I feel like I might kill him.
We start the hike. It's tough, but fine. We go higher and higher. I'm happy whenever there's a place where the road levels off. There aren't that many. Then we reach a place where there are a lot of switchbacks. I have to take several breaks. On each one, The Drummer has to point out how far we've come. I don't want to look behind me. I want to look in front of me. I take my break and continue forward. The breaks become more frequent. I don't know if I can do it. If it's this steep coming up, I can only imagine how it's going to feel going down with gravity pulling me forward. I try not to think about it too much. But then, as it gets more painful. And I blurt out:
"I am not very happy right now!"
The boyfriend thinks this is endearing. I just want to push him off the mountain. But I keep going. And on our last break, we both look at the city.
"Look how far we've come," he says.
I'm trying to catch my breath.
"This is like a metaphor for life. Just when you're about to achieve your goal, you're about to quit."
I think about that as I'm looking down at LA. There are those moments in my life where I got so close to something that I quit before realizing how hard it was. And I didn't want to do that. The Drummer kept trying to remind me how accomplished I would feel when I was done. I didn't want to hear it. But I kept moving and suddenly, we were at the top. We had made it.
And as I looked out, he was right. The sense of accomplishment took all of that insecurity away. Now I know there's yet another thing I can do if I set my mind to it. I've climbed the mountain. And the next time I climb it, it will be easier. I will know what to expect. And now I know that I can make it to the top of the mountain and reflect back on my journey. I won't quit.
He has been going on this hike in Burbank that's mostly incline. Apparently, you climb 2700 feet during the course of the hike. It sounded all right. I am in decent shape. Well, I haven't been to the gym much lately. But I'm not fat. I ran a marathon! Okay, that was five years ago. But still!
So we drive up to the park where we need to start the hike. He keeps pointing out how high up we have to climb. I feel like I might kill him.
We start the hike. It's tough, but fine. We go higher and higher. I'm happy whenever there's a place where the road levels off. There aren't that many. Then we reach a place where there are a lot of switchbacks. I have to take several breaks. On each one, The Drummer has to point out how far we've come. I don't want to look behind me. I want to look in front of me. I take my break and continue forward. The breaks become more frequent. I don't know if I can do it. If it's this steep coming up, I can only imagine how it's going to feel going down with gravity pulling me forward. I try not to think about it too much. But then, as it gets more painful. And I blurt out:
"I am not very happy right now!"
The boyfriend thinks this is endearing. I just want to push him off the mountain. But I keep going. And on our last break, we both look at the city.
"Look how far we've come," he says.
I'm trying to catch my breath.
"This is like a metaphor for life. Just when you're about to achieve your goal, you're about to quit."
I think about that as I'm looking down at LA. There are those moments in my life where I got so close to something that I quit before realizing how hard it was. And I didn't want to do that. The Drummer kept trying to remind me how accomplished I would feel when I was done. I didn't want to hear it. But I kept moving and suddenly, we were at the top. We had made it.
And as I looked out, he was right. The sense of accomplishment took all of that insecurity away. Now I know there's yet another thing I can do if I set my mind to it. I've climbed the mountain. And the next time I climb it, it will be easier. I will know what to expect. And now I know that I can make it to the top of the mountain and reflect back on my journey. I won't quit.
The Rewrite Year
Remember when I said that I felt like I manifested this teaching opportunity. Well, I went back and refined the syllabi that I had created. I now have six syllabi that detail exactly what I would teach next year from soup to nuts. And now I'm done.
I have to surrender it. I have done everything I can.
I have this play rewrite I'm working on. I have it all worked out. Outlined. I have been struggling with it for the past month. Which is why it has been easier to write these syllabi and think about lesson plans. But I have to let that go.
I have to write. I have taken enough time away from it. I finished my rewrite of the pilot three weeks ago.
I wrote the first 30 or so pages of the play rewrite. I should be proud of that. But, of course, I think I'm moving too slow. I always think that I'm moving too slow. I wrote a really good polished pilot this year so far. I have a great play that I'm tearing apart and reworking. I have another great play that I want to rewrite for a reading this summer.
But I've been writing syllabi. However, even that is writing. Coming up with a concept for a class that I want to teach.
So it's not like I'm not doing anything. I'm doing a ton. But it would be nice to have this play done by the end of the month, so I can work on the next one.
I'm rewriting everything this year. This is the rewrite year.
Last year, I wrote a new play and three new pilots. You could say four because the idea for one of them was a totally different pilot and concept last year. So I kind of have two different versions of the same idea. Two of those pilots never made it past the first draft. Both I want to take another shot at this year.
I might not even start anything new this year. I have a lot of rewriting to do. That's fine because I want polished work.
I have no new plays I really want to write. I have a musical I'm supposed to write with a friend. And I have a few half ideas. But I do have two screenplays I want to write. Two ideas that I think are really good. But other than that, I have nothing in the play department.
It's the rewrite year. I'm rewriting myself this year. If this teaching job happens, it will be a major rewrite of my life. Big time.
Last year I was writing new stuff because I was trying to outrun my pain. My Dad was dying and I needed distractions. I wrote wildly and prolifically. Now I'm taking those things I wrote and refining them. They are taking better shape.
My life is taking better shape. I'm going back to something that I was working on before and reworking it. It's all a metaphor for my life.
I have to surrender it. I have done everything I can.
I have this play rewrite I'm working on. I have it all worked out. Outlined. I have been struggling with it for the past month. Which is why it has been easier to write these syllabi and think about lesson plans. But I have to let that go.
I have to write. I have taken enough time away from it. I finished my rewrite of the pilot three weeks ago.
I wrote the first 30 or so pages of the play rewrite. I should be proud of that. But, of course, I think I'm moving too slow. I always think that I'm moving too slow. I wrote a really good polished pilot this year so far. I have a great play that I'm tearing apart and reworking. I have another great play that I want to rewrite for a reading this summer.
But I've been writing syllabi. However, even that is writing. Coming up with a concept for a class that I want to teach.
So it's not like I'm not doing anything. I'm doing a ton. But it would be nice to have this play done by the end of the month, so I can work on the next one.
I'm rewriting everything this year. This is the rewrite year.
Last year, I wrote a new play and three new pilots. You could say four because the idea for one of them was a totally different pilot and concept last year. So I kind of have two different versions of the same idea. Two of those pilots never made it past the first draft. Both I want to take another shot at this year.
I might not even start anything new this year. I have a lot of rewriting to do. That's fine because I want polished work.
I have no new plays I really want to write. I have a musical I'm supposed to write with a friend. And I have a few half ideas. But I do have two screenplays I want to write. Two ideas that I think are really good. But other than that, I have nothing in the play department.
It's the rewrite year. I'm rewriting myself this year. If this teaching job happens, it will be a major rewrite of my life. Big time.
Last year I was writing new stuff because I was trying to outrun my pain. My Dad was dying and I needed distractions. I wrote wildly and prolifically. Now I'm taking those things I wrote and refining them. They are taking better shape.
My life is taking better shape. I'm going back to something that I was working on before and reworking it. It's all a metaphor for my life.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
All In
My materials are all submitted for this teaching job.
Yesterday, I turned in my letter of intent, my CV and three references. And today I got an email confirming that all of my materials were received. Now I need to let it go.
I had a lot of inner turmoil when I found out about this job. On one hand, it was the answer to my prayers. After Hawaii, I wanted to start on the next chapter in my life. And this seemed like a big opportunity. It felt like something I had manifested. But at the same time, it involves me being out of LA for at least a year. It feels like a huge risk. And it's not a done deal. I don't have the job. I think I'm the person for it. But that doesn't mean that I will get it.
But I do know that if it does happen, that I will be all in. I will give all of myself because that's the way I approach everything in my life. But if I've learned anything over the past two and a half years, it is that I need to make sure I'm saving something for myself as well.
I need to make sure that I do these two play rewrites that I have looming over me. There's a workshop I want to do in July and a reading that might be happening then as well. So once I'm heading towards production (putting that out into the Universe), I have this musical adaptation I'm working on with a friend who happens to be in San Francisco. That makes all the sense in the world since I'll be up there. And there's an HBO show that will be shooting there starting in the Fall. So I have to try to make my way up to the city to poke around. Jonathan Groff's in the show and it's about contemporary gay life. So for that reason alone, I need to figure out a way to get up there.
And I just wrote a script that takes place in San Francisco. So all roads lead to the Bay Area. Like I said, I am all in.
Monday, May 6, 2013
A Change Will Do Me Good
Life changes--no matter how much we welcome them--are scary.
I am adopting a few philosophies when it comes to my approach to life:
That might be it. I want to invite life to get exponentially more exciting, more lucrative and more meaningful.
I'm realizing that this blog is like life. It's got it's active periods and it's hibernation periods. I hadn't really written on here since late December and now I'm finding life picking up again. The winds of change.
I fully embraced our Hawaii Trip because I knew that it would be two weeks in my life that would be set aside for family, for love, and to pay tribute to my Dad. Life had pretty much been on hold until the end of that trip I made the conscious decision to do that. Despite some pressures from The Drummer, who I'm not sure still quite understands what it was like to lose my Dad or carry the burden of being his caretaker, I gave homage to my feelings and didn't rush back into the rat race. I let myself have the time to embrace my grief and to transform it into a motivation to live better and with more awareness.
Now that we made that pilgrimage to the Fatherland, life is sprouting anew. I am pregnant with possibility and options. Life is truly moving on. And like I said I would experience everything fully when it came to my Father's illness and death, I am committed to fully experiencing my life from this point forward. I am embracing the lessons and the feelings its bringing up in me. I am choosing how I want my life to be and that feels great.
But change always is disruptive to the way things have been. Three years ago I was in an unhappy relationship trying to make things work. I went to fancy dinners every night. I drove around in a beautiful convertible BMW with my boyfriend who was miserable and making me miserable. We had two dogs. And I was perfectly willing to sit in the stink of my unhappiness.
Then we broke up. I was housesitting and couch surfing for a while. I ended a job I had for seven years. I started a new job. And that job was the best job I ever had up to that point. I was appreciated and valued. I excelled at that job. I really came into my own. Then it ended and I was ready for the next adventure.
My Dad goes into the hospital two days into my "unemployment." And that started a year long adventure of being there for him. Almost immediately, I decided that I needed to be there for him and not be encumbered by a job. I made myself available to my alma mater should they need someone to come up and do workshops. I knew I was going to need some time away while I was dealing with my Dad's illness. In the middle of this, I met The Drummer and my life got a little bit better.
Then I got a job teaching up there for ten weeks. And that was probably the best job I ever had. It was a good year for best jobs. I found myself engaging with my students. I came alive. It gave me a sense of purpose.
Then that job was over and it was back to dealing with Dad and his sickness. By April, it became clear that there was nothing that could be done and he needed our care 24/7 at the house. I was determined that he not go into a home and I was going to do everything to make sure that didn't happen. And I got my wish. He died at home.
It's hard to believe that between July and March I was still going through this process of grief and figuring out the future for my Mom. We had financial things to deal with. Dad left us in a good place, but we needed to ensure the future for Mom. I wanted to allow myself the time to work through my grief and sadness. I wrote a lot throughout the whole time of Dad's illness and through his death and in the months afterwards. I wrote two new plays and four new pilots during the past two years.
Then we got to Hawaii and returned. It felt like it was time to start anew. I got rid of my manager. I finished the new pilot. I wanted to get things moving. A theatre was asking for a rewrite and I had another rewrite for a production I want to put up in the Fall. Then this new job possibility came up. Then an application for something called the Humanitas New Voices Program which would allow me to write a new pilot under the guidance of a mentor if I was awarded one of the four grants they offer. I was ready for life to start anew and here was life waiting for me with some options. And maybe those options won't pan out. But then there will be other options waiting for me around the bend.
Change is upheaval. And I have been upheaved several times over the past two plus years. I just need to remember that it all works out and that riding the wave will bring me closer to where I want to be.
I am adopting a few philosophies when it comes to my approach to life:
- Say YES.
- Let go.
- Be open.
- Laugh.
- Be enthusiastic.
- Welcome surprise and change.
That might be it. I want to invite life to get exponentially more exciting, more lucrative and more meaningful.
I'm realizing that this blog is like life. It's got it's active periods and it's hibernation periods. I hadn't really written on here since late December and now I'm finding life picking up again. The winds of change.
I fully embraced our Hawaii Trip because I knew that it would be two weeks in my life that would be set aside for family, for love, and to pay tribute to my Dad. Life had pretty much been on hold until the end of that trip I made the conscious decision to do that. Despite some pressures from The Drummer, who I'm not sure still quite understands what it was like to lose my Dad or carry the burden of being his caretaker, I gave homage to my feelings and didn't rush back into the rat race. I let myself have the time to embrace my grief and to transform it into a motivation to live better and with more awareness.
Now that we made that pilgrimage to the Fatherland, life is sprouting anew. I am pregnant with possibility and options. Life is truly moving on. And like I said I would experience everything fully when it came to my Father's illness and death, I am committed to fully experiencing my life from this point forward. I am embracing the lessons and the feelings its bringing up in me. I am choosing how I want my life to be and that feels great.
But change always is disruptive to the way things have been. Three years ago I was in an unhappy relationship trying to make things work. I went to fancy dinners every night. I drove around in a beautiful convertible BMW with my boyfriend who was miserable and making me miserable. We had two dogs. And I was perfectly willing to sit in the stink of my unhappiness.
Then we broke up. I was housesitting and couch surfing for a while. I ended a job I had for seven years. I started a new job. And that job was the best job I ever had up to that point. I was appreciated and valued. I excelled at that job. I really came into my own. Then it ended and I was ready for the next adventure.
My Dad goes into the hospital two days into my "unemployment." And that started a year long adventure of being there for him. Almost immediately, I decided that I needed to be there for him and not be encumbered by a job. I made myself available to my alma mater should they need someone to come up and do workshops. I knew I was going to need some time away while I was dealing with my Dad's illness. In the middle of this, I met The Drummer and my life got a little bit better.
Then I got a job teaching up there for ten weeks. And that was probably the best job I ever had. It was a good year for best jobs. I found myself engaging with my students. I came alive. It gave me a sense of purpose.
Then that job was over and it was back to dealing with Dad and his sickness. By April, it became clear that there was nothing that could be done and he needed our care 24/7 at the house. I was determined that he not go into a home and I was going to do everything to make sure that didn't happen. And I got my wish. He died at home.
It's hard to believe that between July and March I was still going through this process of grief and figuring out the future for my Mom. We had financial things to deal with. Dad left us in a good place, but we needed to ensure the future for Mom. I wanted to allow myself the time to work through my grief and sadness. I wrote a lot throughout the whole time of Dad's illness and through his death and in the months afterwards. I wrote two new plays and four new pilots during the past two years.
Then we got to Hawaii and returned. It felt like it was time to start anew. I got rid of my manager. I finished the new pilot. I wanted to get things moving. A theatre was asking for a rewrite and I had another rewrite for a production I want to put up in the Fall. Then this new job possibility came up. Then an application for something called the Humanitas New Voices Program which would allow me to write a new pilot under the guidance of a mentor if I was awarded one of the four grants they offer. I was ready for life to start anew and here was life waiting for me with some options. And maybe those options won't pan out. But then there will be other options waiting for me around the bend.
Change is upheaval. And I have been upheaved several times over the past two plus years. I just need to remember that it all works out and that riding the wave will bring me closer to where I want to be.
Visualizing the Opportunity: Teaching
Manifesting can be scary. About six months ago, I went up to Santa Clara to see some students in a show. While up there for the weekend, a colleague asked me if I would come in and guest teach two classes for her: one on finding agents and managers, and the other on planning a career by dreaming big. I absolutely agreed to come up and guest teach.
When I got home to LA, I thought about teaching. I knew that the university would never have me come up just to teach one class, so I thought about the other classes I could possibly teach. I looked at the course catalogue and picked about six classes that I knew I was qualified to teach. I created six syllabi for those classes. Yeah, I know. I'm a crazy person. Didn't give it another thought.
Then I came back to teach that class. It went extremely well, but then I felt like I was getting the cold shoulder from the department. I wanted to set up some meetings with some folks about some potential teaching opportunities, but there seemed to be things going on behind the scenes that I wasn't privy to. And I was told that while they could pay me for the first class I taught, they wouldn't pay for me to come back. It was then that I decided that I didn't want to give away my expertise for free. So I declined the invitation to teach the second class. I knew that I couldn't give away information for free. There wasn't even a barter situation. It wasn't like they were setting up contacts for me.
Then I went back up for the wedding of a friend and walked into the office of the department chair. She told me a position had opened up in the department for the following school year to teach playwriting. It would only be for a year. But it would be five courses: two sections of Intro to Playwriting, a class in Adaptation, a Playwrights Festival Workshop and a class in Social Justice and the Arts. All of this sounded amazing and I immediately got excited.
But it also made me nervous because the guy who I took over for when I taught there was also applying. He had more experience than me. And he was teaching there longer.
Then I thought of something. The class had been offered at Santa Clara for years under the leadership of the guy I subbed for in the Fall of 2011. Because they wanted to keep the class on the curriculum, they incorporated it into the University's Core Curriculum. This was designed to keep enrollment up. I taught it with 17 students (the cap is 20). The next year it was taught, there were 25 students in the course. And this coming school year, they now want to offer two sections of it. That seems like a remarkable change in the course of a year and a half. And I think I had at least something to do with it.
I had a big impact in a short amount of time. The students and faculty seem to want me around. That gave me some confidence. So I went about my business and started putting my application together to be ready when they eventually would post the job. As I was doing this, I reached out to a colleague for a recommendation. Then I got some more news. The job was no longer just a year long position, it would now be a three year gig. I was prepared to change my life for a year, but to change it for three? A good friend of mine remarked that this would represent a major arc in my life, versus just hopping out of my life for a year. This was a CHANGE.
Is this what I had manifested? I went over all of the choices and declarations I made over the past six months, all of which are detailed above. Did I do this? Is this my destiny? Or is it an acknowledgement that more is out there for me than I initially thought?
I don't know the answer to that question. But I'm just continuing to put the energy out there and l'm continuing to ride on the Universe's wave to my destination.
And I'm continuing to Visualize yet another opportunity. It's certainly an adventure.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Visualizing the Opportunity: TV Pilot
All of this week, as I have been putting the final touches on the TV pilot I'm applying to the Humanitas New Voices Award with, I have been watching YouTube videos of Oprah.
My favorite one is the one from Master Class where she talks about Surrender:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rpwW42HVZws
Basically she wants the role of Sophia in The Color Purple. She's obsessed with it and is told finally that it's not going to happen. Then she surrenders herself to not getting it and allows God to dream a bigger dream for her than she can for herself. She says that when you've done everything you possibly can, then it's time to let it go and become a part of the flow of the Universe. I'm not great at this, which is why I've watched this video at least ten times. It's a great reminder that you can't hold onto something and suffocate it and expect that it will be waiting for you. I am trying to practice this with the pilot opportunity.
I started writing the pilot at the end of last year. I was thinking that I would have it ready in time for staffing season this year. I wrote through January. I wrote through February. I wanted to have something done before I went to Hawaii on March 1st. I was writing every day and working on it constantly, but by the time the end of February came around, I had a draft but I knew it was not the draft I wanted to send out into the world. So we went to Hawaii for two weeks for a familyivacation where we were spreading my Dad's ashes. I knew this was way more important than finishing a script. And I knew that the person getting on the plane to Hawaii was not going to be the same person who returned home in two weeks. I wanted the experience to affect me and seep into my pours. I wanted it to stain me permanently. So I engaged with my family and spent time connecting to my boyfriend. We went on long walks on the beach and went on adventures. I listened as my dying 95 year old Uncle spoke to me and asked me to engage with him. I wanted to be fully present to this experience as I had been with every experience that revolved around my Dad's illness and ultimate death. When I got back from Hawaii, I started writing again. I knew the window of being ready for staffing season had narrowed. I was ahead of the game before I left, but I would be right on the cusp of falling behind if a script wasn't done before vacation. But it just didn't feel like my script was complete. So I kept writing in mid-March through to April. It also became clear that I needed to fire my managers because they wouldn't be useful in my trying to reach out to showrunners and other contacts to have them read my script. I reached out to people who I knew would be influential. Some of them responded promptly and met me for lunch. Some I am still waiting to hear from. Then I heard about the Humanitas Prize. So I went about trying to find someone to recommend me. I found a friend who was a showrunner and willing to recommend me. Then he did. I had finished the "final" draft of the script by this point. I wrote while I was in the Bay Area for a wedding in mid April. My friend came back with a few notes, but over all he thought it was good. Then I finished rewrites this afternoon so I could make the deadline. This was the first time in this process of writing a new piece of material that I felt like I could achieve the goal. I wasn't rushing or hurrying. I was just working every day on something I had committed to. And the opportunity came to meet me.
Each time I let go of a way of thinking, a door opens. An opportunity falls along my path. I am going to continue to let things appear in my path. But I have a clear intention. I want to get a mentor who will help me write a script in a genre that I'm interested in, but need help in. That could be comedy or sci-fi or some type of procedural. I want someone to spot me and help me get stronger in an area that is not natural to me, but will allow me to do the things that I do well.
I want something to do this summer that pays. Then I can transition into teaching in the Fall.
I put forth intention by typing these words and believing what my destiny is. I just speak loudly, firmly, confidently and let life gather around me. I let go of the expectation and just focus on the action.
What happens beyond these initial steps is beyond me. But I just want to put forth good energy that fuels the intention as it becomes actions and propels me forward.
Another description of surrender is "letting go." I have been trying to let go and let go and let go as much as I can wherever I feel myself holding on too tightly.
Whenever I feel like I'm suffocating the intention, I just watch the Oprah video again and take a breath and decide to surrender more.
My favorite one is the one from Master Class where she talks about Surrender:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rpwW42HVZws
Basically she wants the role of Sophia in The Color Purple. She's obsessed with it and is told finally that it's not going to happen. Then she surrenders herself to not getting it and allows God to dream a bigger dream for her than she can for herself. She says that when you've done everything you possibly can, then it's time to let it go and become a part of the flow of the Universe. I'm not great at this, which is why I've watched this video at least ten times. It's a great reminder that you can't hold onto something and suffocate it and expect that it will be waiting for you. I am trying to practice this with the pilot opportunity.
I started writing the pilot at the end of last year. I was thinking that I would have it ready in time for staffing season this year. I wrote through January. I wrote through February. I wanted to have something done before I went to Hawaii on March 1st. I was writing every day and working on it constantly, but by the time the end of February came around, I had a draft but I knew it was not the draft I wanted to send out into the world. So we went to Hawaii for two weeks for a familyivacation where we were spreading my Dad's ashes. I knew this was way more important than finishing a script. And I knew that the person getting on the plane to Hawaii was not going to be the same person who returned home in two weeks. I wanted the experience to affect me and seep into my pours. I wanted it to stain me permanently. So I engaged with my family and spent time connecting to my boyfriend. We went on long walks on the beach and went on adventures. I listened as my dying 95 year old Uncle spoke to me and asked me to engage with him. I wanted to be fully present to this experience as I had been with every experience that revolved around my Dad's illness and ultimate death. When I got back from Hawaii, I started writing again. I knew the window of being ready for staffing season had narrowed. I was ahead of the game before I left, but I would be right on the cusp of falling behind if a script wasn't done before vacation. But it just didn't feel like my script was complete. So I kept writing in mid-March through to April. It also became clear that I needed to fire my managers because they wouldn't be useful in my trying to reach out to showrunners and other contacts to have them read my script. I reached out to people who I knew would be influential. Some of them responded promptly and met me for lunch. Some I am still waiting to hear from. Then I heard about the Humanitas Prize. So I went about trying to find someone to recommend me. I found a friend who was a showrunner and willing to recommend me. Then he did. I had finished the "final" draft of the script by this point. I wrote while I was in the Bay Area for a wedding in mid April. My friend came back with a few notes, but over all he thought it was good. Then I finished rewrites this afternoon so I could make the deadline. This was the first time in this process of writing a new piece of material that I felt like I could achieve the goal. I wasn't rushing or hurrying. I was just working every day on something I had committed to. And the opportunity came to meet me.
Each time I let go of a way of thinking, a door opens. An opportunity falls along my path. I am going to continue to let things appear in my path. But I have a clear intention. I want to get a mentor who will help me write a script in a genre that I'm interested in, but need help in. That could be comedy or sci-fi or some type of procedural. I want someone to spot me and help me get stronger in an area that is not natural to me, but will allow me to do the things that I do well.
I want something to do this summer that pays. Then I can transition into teaching in the Fall.
I put forth intention by typing these words and believing what my destiny is. I just speak loudly, firmly, confidently and let life gather around me. I let go of the expectation and just focus on the action.
What happens beyond these initial steps is beyond me. But I just want to put forth good energy that fuels the intention as it becomes actions and propels me forward.
Another description of surrender is "letting go." I have been trying to let go and let go and let go as much as I can wherever I feel myself holding on too tightly.
Whenever I feel like I'm suffocating the intention, I just watch the Oprah video again and take a breath and decide to surrender more.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Back 2013
I have taken a break from writing this blog for about five months. I have thought about getting back here several times over that period, but life just started happening.
Here's a quick recap on the things that have happened, month by month:
January:
I was supposed to do a rewrite of my play OPEN, which involves open marriage. I got sick and then went to Portland with my Mom to celebrate her 67th and my nephew's 1st birthdays. The trip was wonderful. We had time to share together and I got to take my Mom around town. I also got the chance to be with friends. I hadn't been back in Portland since April of the previous year. So it was good to be back in a town that I love. I was also sick during that trip and lost my voice. I had to guest teach a class at Santa Clara on finding agents and managers. That was a significant trip for me (for reasons that will become clear soon). I gave this lecture, which was a powerful thing to do. I feel the students really got a lot out of it. Kristin, the professor I worked with, asked me to come back in February to do another class. However, she said that the university wouldn't be able to pay me twice. I didn't like that, but at the time I felt like I wanted to be there for the students. But when I drove home, I realized that I would be giving away my expertise for free. Right then and there I decided not to do that. So I emailed Kristin and told her why I couldn't teach the second class. I don't want to be giving my goodies away for free. I want to get paid for my expertise.
February:
I turned 40. I had two birthday parties: one at the roller rink and one at a Latina drag bar. A bunch of friends came out for my parties and I felt loved. My boyfriend, The Drummer, was able to make it to both, which really made it special for me. He can't make it to a lot of weekend activities because of his playing schedule, so it was get really difficult. This birthday was significant to me for a lot of reasons, one of them being this was the first one since my Dad died. And this birthday was a big one. It also signifies that I have become an adult. Along with my Dad dying, this was another opportunity for me to step into my adulthood.
I used to be shy about admitting my age because in Hollywood, youth is valued. But in my journey, I realize that I have a lot of experience that I was not valuing because I was pretending to be younger than I am. That allowed people to treat me like a child. It also allowed people to believe that I had a lot of time ahead of me. And yes, 40 is not 80. But these are the years where things start coming into fruition. I have to own who I am. And that person is 40. That person has gone to college, worked in advertising, ran an arts education program for runaways, moved to New York, worked as an events manager, gone to NYU to get a Master of Fine Arts, worked in TV production and development and as a de facto executive, been up for several awards, fellowships and TV writing jobs, has made every job he has ever worked more than just the title he worked under (but has never stepped it up to demand that title), taught on the University level, taken care of his dying father and held his family together, written at least ten full length plays and eight TV pilots, co-directed a theatre project and survived several hard relationships throughout his life. I deserve to be 40 and to own that authority and the power and position that comes along with all of that. Yes, as my therapist and I have discussed, the age is just a title, but I need to own the high-level position that I have created for myself. And now I do.
March:
The first half of March was all about our family vacation to Hawaii to spread my Dad's ashes and to come together as a family. That was a beautiful experience and one which I will share on a future blog entry in greater detail. But it was an emotional experience and a significant one for me. And it closed an important chapter in my life.
I also have been writing my new pilot throughout this whole time and including through March. When I got back from Hawaii, I decided that I needed a fresh start in one area of my life that still felt like my old life: my career. I fired my long time manager (and former employer) because as my tarot reading said over a year ago: "the serpent has outlived its purpose." The serpent was still slithering around in this one area of my life and now it was time to let him go. And I did. And that set up the next stage of my life...
April:
I kept writing this pilot through the first couple weeks of April. I wanted to write about my Dad and write about things I love: food, restaurants, family, legacy. As of this posting, I am actually putting on some final finishing touches on this pilot.
After I let go of my management, I realized I needed to take the matters of my career in my own hands. I had always been good out of relationships. I never worried about finding the one or asking myself when Prince Charming was riding along on his white stallion. But when it came to my career, I was desperate at every turn to have Prince Charming show up and save me from mopping Hollywood's floors. I am adopting the approach I have to dating: don't worry about it, have fun and do my thing. Everything else will fall into its place and the good fortune will be attracted to me when I express truly who I am.
That being said, I started reaching out to people in my life who can help out in that capacity. I saw my friend Jack, who's a show runner, and we caught up. I saw my friend Matt who works at CAA. I got together with my friend Robert, who is an EP on Dallas, and he read the new script and have me major props and a couple of notes, which I am implementing right now. I have a deadline for an award application coming up this week and Robert's notes are helping me make this script exactly what it should be.
The other thing that happened is that one of my best friends, Veronica got married on April 13th. I went up a few days early to Santa Clara to spend time with my students and friends. I also was writing a lot when I was there on that trip, knowing that I needed to keep working on this script and didn't need to be distracted. When I went to visit the theatre department, I dropped in on Barbara, the head of the department, and the woman I used to work for. She also was a professor of mine when I was in school. She didn't expect me to show up in her office, since V didn't invite the faculty because she didn't want to exclude anyone. But she had some interesting news.
A position had just opened up for the 2013/2014 academic school year in Playwriting. It would be five courses: two intro to Playwriting classes, one class in Adaptation, one course that involved the Playwrights Festival and a class in Social Justice and the Arts. I was in shock. Back in November, when I went to visit and talked to Kristin about doing her class in January, I was inspired to create syllabi for five courses I felt I could teach if ever asked. And here I was in a position to use that information. The decision making process would be short. They would post the position in a few weeks (still waiting for that to happen) and they would need to make a decision by June, which is when the school year ends. My jaw was on the floor. I consulted with some colleagues about whether or not I should apply. My fear has always been that I would be taken out of LA and those dreams wouldn't come true. But I am trying to adopt a policy of saying yes to every opportunity and seeing where that takes me. And there's nothing to say that I can't have a successful playwriting career, a thriving teaching career and a bountiful career as a TV show creator, producer and writer. I would like to have all of those balls in the air simultaneously. And I know I could juggle all of those balls and keep them bouncing.
So this month has been about big changes, big possibilities and moving on from my father's death. It has been nine months since he passed. Incredible.
So now I'm truly back to this blog. Hope to write some more soon. There's a ton going on, but now more than ever I want to document what's happening on my journey.
Stay tuned.
Here's a quick recap on the things that have happened, month by month:
January:
I was supposed to do a rewrite of my play OPEN, which involves open marriage. I got sick and then went to Portland with my Mom to celebrate her 67th and my nephew's 1st birthdays. The trip was wonderful. We had time to share together and I got to take my Mom around town. I also got the chance to be with friends. I hadn't been back in Portland since April of the previous year. So it was good to be back in a town that I love. I was also sick during that trip and lost my voice. I had to guest teach a class at Santa Clara on finding agents and managers. That was a significant trip for me (for reasons that will become clear soon). I gave this lecture, which was a powerful thing to do. I feel the students really got a lot out of it. Kristin, the professor I worked with, asked me to come back in February to do another class. However, she said that the university wouldn't be able to pay me twice. I didn't like that, but at the time I felt like I wanted to be there for the students. But when I drove home, I realized that I would be giving away my expertise for free. Right then and there I decided not to do that. So I emailed Kristin and told her why I couldn't teach the second class. I don't want to be giving my goodies away for free. I want to get paid for my expertise.
February:
I turned 40. I had two birthday parties: one at the roller rink and one at a Latina drag bar. A bunch of friends came out for my parties and I felt loved. My boyfriend, The Drummer, was able to make it to both, which really made it special for me. He can't make it to a lot of weekend activities because of his playing schedule, so it was get really difficult. This birthday was significant to me for a lot of reasons, one of them being this was the first one since my Dad died. And this birthday was a big one. It also signifies that I have become an adult. Along with my Dad dying, this was another opportunity for me to step into my adulthood.
I used to be shy about admitting my age because in Hollywood, youth is valued. But in my journey, I realize that I have a lot of experience that I was not valuing because I was pretending to be younger than I am. That allowed people to treat me like a child. It also allowed people to believe that I had a lot of time ahead of me. And yes, 40 is not 80. But these are the years where things start coming into fruition. I have to own who I am. And that person is 40. That person has gone to college, worked in advertising, ran an arts education program for runaways, moved to New York, worked as an events manager, gone to NYU to get a Master of Fine Arts, worked in TV production and development and as a de facto executive, been up for several awards, fellowships and TV writing jobs, has made every job he has ever worked more than just the title he worked under (but has never stepped it up to demand that title), taught on the University level, taken care of his dying father and held his family together, written at least ten full length plays and eight TV pilots, co-directed a theatre project and survived several hard relationships throughout his life. I deserve to be 40 and to own that authority and the power and position that comes along with all of that. Yes, as my therapist and I have discussed, the age is just a title, but I need to own the high-level position that I have created for myself. And now I do.
March:
The first half of March was all about our family vacation to Hawaii to spread my Dad's ashes and to come together as a family. That was a beautiful experience and one which I will share on a future blog entry in greater detail. But it was an emotional experience and a significant one for me. And it closed an important chapter in my life.
I also have been writing my new pilot throughout this whole time and including through March. When I got back from Hawaii, I decided that I needed a fresh start in one area of my life that still felt like my old life: my career. I fired my long time manager (and former employer) because as my tarot reading said over a year ago: "the serpent has outlived its purpose." The serpent was still slithering around in this one area of my life and now it was time to let him go. And I did. And that set up the next stage of my life...
April:
I kept writing this pilot through the first couple weeks of April. I wanted to write about my Dad and write about things I love: food, restaurants, family, legacy. As of this posting, I am actually putting on some final finishing touches on this pilot.
After I let go of my management, I realized I needed to take the matters of my career in my own hands. I had always been good out of relationships. I never worried about finding the one or asking myself when Prince Charming was riding along on his white stallion. But when it came to my career, I was desperate at every turn to have Prince Charming show up and save me from mopping Hollywood's floors. I am adopting the approach I have to dating: don't worry about it, have fun and do my thing. Everything else will fall into its place and the good fortune will be attracted to me when I express truly who I am.
That being said, I started reaching out to people in my life who can help out in that capacity. I saw my friend Jack, who's a show runner, and we caught up. I saw my friend Matt who works at CAA. I got together with my friend Robert, who is an EP on Dallas, and he read the new script and have me major props and a couple of notes, which I am implementing right now. I have a deadline for an award application coming up this week and Robert's notes are helping me make this script exactly what it should be.
The other thing that happened is that one of my best friends, Veronica got married on April 13th. I went up a few days early to Santa Clara to spend time with my students and friends. I also was writing a lot when I was there on that trip, knowing that I needed to keep working on this script and didn't need to be distracted. When I went to visit the theatre department, I dropped in on Barbara, the head of the department, and the woman I used to work for. She also was a professor of mine when I was in school. She didn't expect me to show up in her office, since V didn't invite the faculty because she didn't want to exclude anyone. But she had some interesting news.
A position had just opened up for the 2013/2014 academic school year in Playwriting. It would be five courses: two intro to Playwriting classes, one class in Adaptation, one course that involved the Playwrights Festival and a class in Social Justice and the Arts. I was in shock. Back in November, when I went to visit and talked to Kristin about doing her class in January, I was inspired to create syllabi for five courses I felt I could teach if ever asked. And here I was in a position to use that information. The decision making process would be short. They would post the position in a few weeks (still waiting for that to happen) and they would need to make a decision by June, which is when the school year ends. My jaw was on the floor. I consulted with some colleagues about whether or not I should apply. My fear has always been that I would be taken out of LA and those dreams wouldn't come true. But I am trying to adopt a policy of saying yes to every opportunity and seeing where that takes me. And there's nothing to say that I can't have a successful playwriting career, a thriving teaching career and a bountiful career as a TV show creator, producer and writer. I would like to have all of those balls in the air simultaneously. And I know I could juggle all of those balls and keep them bouncing.
So this month has been about big changes, big possibilities and moving on from my father's death. It has been nine months since he passed. Incredible.
So now I'm truly back to this blog. Hope to write some more soon. There's a ton going on, but now more than ever I want to document what's happening on my journey.
Stay tuned.
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