On Poor Writing Thursday, Aug 6 2009

I’m sitting at a red light. To my right is a video store. In this day of the download, those old brick-and-mortars don’t look so hot. Oh, they try — but so do the trannies in fishnets back on Santa Monica boulevard.

Still no green. I look at a very large poster for a movie I’ve never heard of.

The design elements are:

* a whole lot of white space

* a title I don’t remember

* a tagline in a font too small to read from the street despite the poster’s window filling acreage

* a man

* a woman who is Beyoncé

* another woman

* the arrangement of man-woman-woman to imply a love triangle of menacing nature

So, an awful poster for what looks like an awful movie.

I grew up in this neighborhood. I know this is the longest red light in town, but still — get me out of here.

Then everything that is on my right resonates with everything that is off in my life:

What if I write a movie like that? What if I write a screenplay and I think its really good because its the best I can do but then I see the poster and its something like that because frankly the marketing guys just don’t have a lot to work with? And the movie is awful and uninteresting and even I want to change the channel because I caught it on TV — didn’t even bother to DVR it — because frankly the director and actors and even the art department didn’t have anything more to work with than the marketing guys?

What if I write a bad movie?

I relate this story over sushi to my friend, a business director in her position and a novelist in her soul. The sun is now disappearing outside.  “Well,” she says, handing the black check presenter back to our server with her credit card inside,  “At least you’d get paid.”

My friend is very clever, and she’s right: I should be so lucky.

Back in the car, and now I’m looking out at the morning sun in the rearview mirror.

You should be so lucky, to write a terrible movie. If your first draft is coherent at all, it would be a happy accident.

I think of a screenplay sitting in my closet at home: a copy of an early draft of The Last Samurai. Its radically different than the story that Edward Zwick actually filmed, and not nearly as satisfying. Captain Algren isn’t a drunken soldier of fortune haunted by memories of genocide — he’s the darling of West Point. Katsumoto is the enemy and he stays the enemy. Algren is married, and his wife dies — predictably. All in all, rather bland.

“I’m like that too,” my friend says between sips of water. “I want it to be perfect the first time.”

“I guess it’s like what Hemingway said about first drafts,” I reply.

We smile at each other. We’re both writers; we know the quote. No need to curse during dinner.

The light turns green, and I pass through the intersection and continue towards the onramp. Time to go home and write something awful.

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Constants Monday, Aug 3 2009

Caught Eminem’s video for Beautiful.

It’s him walking around in Detroit. These are not nice neighborhoods.  They are economically devastated. There’s even a stadium being torn down.

I’m watching Em. He’s got money. Being in this environment isn’t the trap for him that it is for almost everyone else.

Of course, this album is the one he made after disappearing for five years into addiction and depression. Money was a bigger trap than poverty was.

Something about the look on his face, it just hit me.

We will always feel the way we do.

There’s no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, no achievement that will erase this strange soul-ache.

There are moments. Connections. Foretastes of heaven. But satisfaction? No. This body isn’t capable.

This isn’t depressing. It’s freeing.  I felt happier when I realized that no matter what changes, I’ll never be happier. No more chasing the wind.

Most unhappiness in life is a result of false metrics — being unsatisfied with your perfectly good apples because they aren’t the color of someone else’s oranges.

Yeah, it’s a cliche, that whole destination vs. journey thing.

But maybe a cliche is just a truth everyone has heard but few have felt?

Link to the video.

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Day Tripper Tuesday, Jun 3 2008

A Metro Day Pass in L.A. is $5. With it you can hop on any city bus or subway and go where it takes you.

Which is what I did Sunday.

Started by getting on the bus here in Pasadena at 9:00am. A transfer in Eagle Rock brought me to Say Cheese restaurant in Silver Lake, where a co-worker of mine works the Sunday Brunch shift. Say Cheese has good coffee, good prices and–what else?–great cheese. Chatted with Nicolai a bit and then, after finishing my Ham and Gruyere croissant at 11:30 got up to go who knows where.

I like to navigate by sense of direction, so I set my feet south on Hyperion Blvd and started walking. Went over a few hills and took in the vistas of Los Feliz, Hollywood, Downtown–the charred patches of Griffith Park from last year’s fire. Walked past the dog parks on Silver Lake Blvd and up the east side of the Reservoir, then down to Glendale Blvd. Saw the Red Lion, where Mark–another co-worker and fellow screenwriter–used to work. They had a big sign saying they serve Bitburger beer, so I think that’s where ‘ll go with my parents next time they’re in town.

Caught a bus into the city. They were shooting a movie called Hotel for Dogs. Whatever.

Stepped into the lobby of the Wilshire Grand to get away from the street noise so I could make a phone call. Turns out there pool gate doesn’t have any sort of lock or keypass on it. So I grabbed a chaise lounge and tried to even out my farmer’s tan.

Had some Thai food at this great little place with a sweet old lady, then went to the Mayan to see if there was any help I could offer with set-up. My meager contribution was carrying a table and a box for Jason, the DJ; we hung out and traded stories for an hour or so. His fiancee used to babysit Adee–they’re getting married in five weeks!

Church was awesome. The speaker, Hank, is an exciting new voice at Mosaic with a fascinating life. At one point he asked if there were any parents in the audience–mine was the only hand that went up. Sort of a little snapshot of my present life and context.

At the end of the message Erwin took the mic for a moment just to let people know that he was indeed present, that Hank wasn’t filling in, but rather “he’s first string.” Erwin’s so good at encouraging and lifting people up. Even though he only said about four sentences, I was tearing up at the genuine respect and affection he was showing his protege. It was a public act that pulled back the curtain a bit on the real beauty of relationships.

Saw a lot of friends: Andy, Ray, Garett, Brady, Skyler. Had a good conversation with Leslie. Met Dany in the lobby beforehand and she was kind enough to sit with me, even though the service was arranged theatre in the round style and I picked a tall table and bar stools right behind the band.

Got a text message from Tyff inviting me over for wine and games at her place in Culver City. Took a little while and a bit of backtracking, but I finally navigated my way down the Blue Line to Staples Center and then along Venice Blvd. A guy on the bus asked to borrow my phone because his was dying and he needed to call someone in Santa Monica. Apparently he was picking up some money but he wasn’t going to get there in time, so they had to figure out a hiding spot where he could retrieve the cash. This is just one of a half dozen fascinating things that happened on the bus that day.

Arrived at Tyff’s to find a game of Taboo in full swing, and that every other guy there was also a spec screenwriter. Lots of fun, cheekiness and consumption of Rice Krispie Treats ensued. I don’t drink wine so I had to make due with the one Coors Light we could excavate from the confusion of the fridge.

The night wound down, people went home. We laid Tyff’s co-worker to rest on the couch to sleep off his one-tequila two-tequila three-tequila floor, then stayed up way too late ourselves talking about God, ourselves, this life inbetween, what you want and what you get. Even dead tired, Tyffany’s and awesome listener. She very kindly let me crash in the living room opposite the hibernating waiter. She kept insisting that the couch pillow wasn’t going to be very comfortable and wouldn’t stop trying to give me another one until I threatened to throw it at her.

The absolute best part about all of this was that I was writing the whole time. If I was on the move I’d just type into my phone, if not I’d write in my notebook. I guess I’m just inspired by being out there and taking everything in.

Woke up at six. Caught the bus back into downtown. Had coffee and a bagel with cream cheese, then took the Red line to the Gold line to the 181 home. Got off the bus at 9:00am.

Best five bucks I ever spent.

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Wednesday, Nov 14 2007

So last week I turned in a ten minute play for my playwriting class. At the time I thought I had just dashed something off to make the deadline. I wasn’t really happy with the draft. We didn’t get to it then, so I actually got to hear it read tonight.

Like gourmet cheese, it seems to have aged well.

I actually enjoyed it. It wasn’t perfect. But the majority opinion was much more favorable then I expected. I thought I would be explaining away a bomb, but it turned out to be a subtle piece with an interesting angle.

The coolest part was a fellow student saying he really wanted to see the finished product performed on stage. That’s cool.

Oh yeah, I actually did good on my Genetics test this morning. Thought for sure I was going to bomb that too.

All in all, good day in school.

—————-
Now playing: The Go-Go’s – Our Lips Are Sealed
via FoxyTunes

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Not enough dough in the pie. Monday, Nov 5 2007

Choices.

I didn’t choose this situation.

[Or maybe I did, but I'd like out now, thank you...]

Here’s where I’m at:

I have never made enough money to support myself, let alone my wife and child.

Just need to come out and admit that.

I was always chasing a dream. But I think now that while my dream of becoming a working screenwriter was and is perfectly valid, the motivation behind my pursuit of that dream was not. To wit, right thing wrong reason.

I was looking for the silver bullet. The solution to all of my problems.

Well, now the Writer’s Guild is on strike (a friend of mine is reporting for his shift on the picket lines tomorrow). Now even if I did finish the world’s greatest screenplay and the studio’s wanted to start a bidding war for it, I can’t sell it.

So now even the silver bullet is a blank.

I think this is a good thing. I think this is one more thing God is stripping away right now.

Because now I’m starting to own up to some failures. Starting to develop some much needed hustle.

Here’s the math: There are three things that require most of my time, aside from eating and sleeping.

1.) Work – 5 nights a week

2.) School – 2 Days, 1 Night, and much more for homework

3.) Single Dad – 3 Days and Nights a week.

Net result: 1 Free evening and 2 Free half-days. Unfortunately, my financial aid got yanked this semester, and I’m not making enough at my job to meet expenses. To sum, the situation is unsustainable. One of these three has to give.

Money is what is lacking. Time and Energy devoted to Employment has to go up, not down.

I can be finished with school by January. I’ve decided that its not progress for me as a person if I quit. Better to achieve this goal sooner rather than stretching it out to June.

Which leaves my time with my daughter. I can’t take care of Adee by myself anymore.

But I am by myself.

So I can’t take care of Adee. Not if I am going to take care of–provide for–Adee.

I’m already missing out, I guess. Adee changes noticeably between each time I see her.

I wish there were other options. But I don’t get wishes.

Just choices.

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Living water rather than salt water. Thursday, Nov 1 2007

 I have this metaphor for giving in to temptation. I call it drinking sea water. People stranded at sea without freshwater sometimes become so thirsty that they drink the seawater around them. The result is that the salt dehydrates their bodies further, and causes delirium. So even though you are drinking something, it actually makes you thirstier, and crazy. And the more you drink the worse it gets.

That’s my experience with temptation. Whenever I’ve lost my temper, lusted after women with my eyes and mind, indulged in procrastination and laziness, or done whatever else I knew I shouldn’t do but wanted to do anyways, that’s always been the result. I’ve just wanted more, not less, of whatever I was sinning with, I lost all peace and connection with God, and I quite literally lose my right mind.

So why do I do it? Because I AM thirsty! My heart and soul want fulfillment, and they don’t have it. So they crave substitutes.

This week has been really cool, because I’ve been blessed to experience several times God providing me with what is Real.  I’ve felt  The Thirst, and I’m learning to listen to my craving and seek His Living Water.

I find it in Beauty

I find it in Worship

I find it in Gratitude

I find it in Acceptance, Forgiveness and Compassion. For myself and for others.

Tuesday I looked out at my porch and realized the tree in my planter was singing to its Creator. And I joined its song. As  I write this, the trees and the rocks and the grass and all the rest of creation- they groan with us, but they also praise.

Who’d have thought that the plants outside and the sky were setting an example for me to follow?
—————-
Now playing: Chris Tomlin – Enough
via FoxyTunes

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Breakfast Marinade Tuesday, Oct 16 2007

So I tried marinating chicken for the first time last week. Got some Orange Muscat Champagne Vinaigrette from Trader Joe’s and soaked some chicken breasts in it. Turned out pretty good.

The thing is, because I’m working four or five nights a week now, and got class until 10:15pm on Tuesday, I’m really not home to cook dinner. I’ve got breakfast and lunch to play around with.

So today I took the leftover chicken and cut it up and put it into an omelet. I wanted to make a burrito, but the few scraps of tortilla I had looked like ancient parchment. So I sauted some onions, mushrooms and red bell peppers, the last of which were too sweet because they had been around too long, through in the chicken and put the whole thing on some eggs.

So, I didn’t clean the pan in between and I let the eggs cook too long before I scrambled them, so the whole omelet thing turned out to be more of a scramble mash.

But man, the chicken marinade turned out to be perfect for breakfast!

—————-
Now playing: Chris Tomlin – Dance in the River
via FoxyTunes

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I’ve Found My Guiding Light Friday, Oct 5 2007

I’ve written about my frustration with not having a clear direction to stick to in the midst of the storm that has beset my relationship with my wife, Christina. Well, I think my North Star has finally poked its head out from behind the clouds. I came across this quote online:

“Why is it the party in the wrong always asks the innocent party to adjust themselves? Because that is what addicts do. If you really ‘got it,’ you wouldn’t be asking how to get yet another chance. You would be more concerned with apologizing and making amends for what you have put this person through.

Your outlook is still self-serving, a sign you haven’t defeated your addictions. Focus on yourself and curing your addictions.”

Wow. THAT really pulls the cover off the mystery box.

…coming about to a new heading.

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That’s how I roll. Thursday, Sep 27 2007

Sleep has just been upgraded to a luxury, which means I’ll have to get by without it.

I’m just getting squeezed in too many ways.

My coming financial aide isn’t, and I just found out yesterday might not ever.

I’m getting smoked by deadlines in Biology and Business Algebra.

I’m watching Adee or working most of the rest of the time.

I’ve got overages on my cell phone for the first time ever, and they are hefty.

Guerrilla Theatre is still in the starting gate, and the school club deadlines are slipping by too.

So get ready for insomniac Remy… assuming I have the willpower for it.

Course I do. I can’t NOT have it, so I have it.
—————-
Now playing: Delirious? – All the Way
via FoxyTunes

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Just One Star to Navigate By Wednesday, Sep 26 2007

Thank God I have Him at all.

There is so much going on right now. Some of it is very good. Some of it is very bad. But it all adds up to a lot and I’m just trying to keep up.

I’m working now, and that’s going good. I’m going to push for them to move me up to server. It will be a stretch for me as a person. There’s a part of me that wants to stay a host because learning to be a server is a whole other ball game and I don’t know that I can swing it. Which is why I want to do it and knock the teeth out of that part of me. Perfect love casts out all fear.

I need the money I’d get from serving, now more than ever. I just found a letter from school saying my financial aid has been suspended. This is especially bad because I’m already behind on the rent. I was counting on my financial aid check. Now I’m not going to get it for at least two weeks, if at all. It depends on how my appeal goes to have it reinstated.

My writing is going very well. I have fifteen pages of my screenplay done. That means I’m 1/16th of the way to a finished draft. And my best friend Ramsey just got signed to a management group, so that’s really encouraging to hear he just got a greenlight in his acting career. He’s been persevering for years and years, so I hope some solid work comes out of this and soon.

Monday was a really good day with Christina. I love her so much. Anything good with her is mountain air for my heart and soul.

I’m trying so hard–so hard–to just give my life over to God’s direction. But I’m having such difficulty discerning His voice. I know this financial aid situation is a test of faith. The timing was so conspicuous.

Here’s what I know:

I am supposed to write.

I am to be patient and let Him work.

I am to trust in Him to provide.

I am to fulfill all of my obligations to the best of my ability.

I am to worship and praise Him and seek His rest in the midst of my strivings.

Only two out of five of these things are clear to me: the writing and the worship. The other three, I don’t know quite how to go about. Sometimes I have ideas, but I wonder if I should pursue them or not. Sometimes I can’t think of a thing. There are other things, especially concerning Christina,

where I JUST DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL I AM DOING. I know my life is a journey, that I won’t become who I want to be in a day.

I just want to be who I am supposed to be on this day.

I’m at sea, the water is glassy smooth, the sun is hidden by the clouds, the GPS went overboard weeks ago, and I am just desperate for some kind of marker so I can set a course.

I know You are out there. I can feel you lifting my despair when it encroaches.

But what am I to do?

—————-
Now playing: Moi – You Said
via FoxyTunes

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