At some point in my life I heard a story about Woody Allen's writing process. I might have been watching a documentary or maybe my mom told me, I don't remember, but I do know that I immediately became fascinated by it. Whenever Woody Allen has an idea for a new movie, he writes it down on a small scrap of paper and then puts it in a drawer. The man has been writing since the early 1960's, so you can imagine how many of these ideas are in one drawer. When the time comes for him to make a new film, he reaches into the drawer and starts pulling out the scraps of paper. When he finds an idea he likes, he turns it into a script which then becomes the movie. I just took a quick peek at Woody's IMDB page and it appears that he is responsible for some 60 titles in about 50 years. Regardless of your opinion of the guy's movies--if you hate them, don't get them, still harness feelings of extreme bitterness because Annie Hall beat out Star Wars for Best Picture--I think we can all agree those kind of numbers are insane. He pumps out so much stuff because he is never at a loss for material. That is where my fascination and frustration for writing comes from: what do I write about?
If you're a writer, or perhaps just a regular human being, you're aware of how much self-doubt goes into the initial stages of any project. Starting things is terrifying. Some people, like myself, are not convinced to start anything until they believe it's actually pretty good. That could potentially make for a dangerous cycle. It's actually a wonder I've ever completed anything on account of how many times I've said Uggghhh this is the worst to whatever it is I'm writing. You can either convince yourself that your bad idea is actually a very good one or you commit to its inherit badness and agree to go along for the ride.
Why bring up Woody Allen? Why bring up being afraid of starting things? And why burden you with writing about writing? (Don't answer that one.) Woody Allen tosses anything and everything into that drawer. (I can hear you assholes, by the way. Sling your insults about your least-favorite movies at a later date.) When his idea is "Quirky girl meets neurotic guy; they talk," it still goes in the drawer. I need to do more of that. I need to put more stuff in the drawer, no matter how ridiculous or boring or unoriginal I believe a concept to be. I am infamous for writing pages of dialogue, re-reading it, and thinking it sounds too similar to something I've seen already. Of course discretion is important with this kind of thing, but come on people, we saw No Strings Attached and Friends with Benefits come out within months of each other. I think it's important to have really crappy ideas or make really shoddy attempts at things, such as being 23 and giving yourself a break when your expectations far exceed what is realistically possible. I typically don't follow my own advice, but I'm trying to come around to that one.
Pursuing writing as a thing seems silly, and rightfully so. For the most part it doesn't produce anything tangible and convincing people that you were productive today is next to impossible. You aren't getting paid to do it, you don't actually know if you're doing it well, and if you stop doing it in the middle of the day in favor of watching the two hour block of Boy Meets World, nobody is going to wonder what happened to the book that was never written. Maybe someday I will be paid to do these things and I will have someone to whom I answer, but for now it's pretty much just me tapping away at my slowly dying laptop and hoping that I produce enough good material to send off somewhere. Knowing that my laptop is on its last legs is unbelievably stressful, by the way. For what is an artist without a canvas or an accountant without a calculator? But even though I am painfully aware of all the logical reasons I should just throw in the towel, I've never been one to listen to other people, especially a general public that assumes it knows what's "best for me." Funny story, I've had jobs where I was explicitly instructed to cut creativity out of my life and guess what? That sucked. So in spite of the odds and how they are very much against me, I find myself blindly trusting myself to not fuck it up. There's that shoddy attempt at giving myself a break.
As I've mentioned before I am currently unemployed. It's not great. I eat a lot less and the other day I bought beer with a Walgreen's gift card I got for Christmas. I apply for all of the jobs every day but it's difficult to expect results when all these applications are thrust into the infinite abyss of the internet. I've been applying for jobs since September of 2011, so my ego is just numb at this point. I would, however, have much better luck if I had any kind of competence with website maintenance, social media, or a general understanding of the things in the computer. There is a surprising wealth of job opportunities for writers who know their way around a computer. If I have one bit of advice for current English majors who spend their time convincing others what it is they will do with that: learn web design, learn photo shop, learn how to write code, establish some kind of general competency with software, and don't hate social media as much as I do. I know it sounds sad, but I am Brooks from The Shawshank Redemption. I got out of college, realized the world had changed, but I was too old to catch up. That's where the comparison ends because then it starts to get a little depressing. I see so many job postings everyday with qualifications such as "Must be hilarious! Witty! People person! Awesome written and verbal skills! Oh, and by the way, you will definitely be the person maintaining our website so know how to do all of that." Make a cool Tumblr. Create a blog that looks better than this one. Take pictures of stuff other than food. It's a young woman's game out there--learn how to play it.
Tomorrow will be another day of fantastic volunteer work with some of the smartest kids in Chicago. After that I will probably go to Subway, because it's on the way home and I have a gift card. And then I suppose I should return to the drawing board, which is really just a little purple note pad I have with a great big list of things-to-do printed on it. Many of those items are about "editing" and "starting" and "looking at again," all things that were one time in my drawer but I had the courage to pull them out. You know why? Because I want to be a writer, damn it, so that's what I'm going to do.
...or maybe I'll just go to the Art Institute because it's FOR FREE!!!
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Holiday Wrap-Up, and stuff
Well, well, well. Look who it is. The prodigal daughter has returned! Many moons ago I decided blog posts would come out every week. Obviously, I have broken that rule before but this time I've really gone past my personal deadline. So I apologize, seven dedicated readers. You missed out on holiday cheer of the Ohio variety. Here is a quick recap of all that Ohio cheer:
-The Man Friend and I boarded an AmTrak bound for Cleveland on the night of December 21. We both decided that if the world was indeed ending, we would at least be on a train together. The entire journey was in darkness, but that's fine because you're supposed to sleep through those kinds of train rides. Did we sleep? For sure not. We did not sleep because of the two clowns sitting behind us. They had never met before selecting their seats next to one another, so they had years of stories their real friends had already heard. But because they were new friends, they could re-tell stories about being in marching band at their respective colleges and all the cool music apps they had on their phones. You want to know something funny about music apps? They make noise. Once we had put up with them for far too long, we decided to make our way to the Club Car and see what kind of characters we could find there. And guess what? Characters abound! In case you didn't know, drinking is allowed on the AmTrak and you can even bring your own 6-packs or bottles of wine/liquor or just buy it from the Cafe Car. At this point, we were closing in on 3 am so the Cafe Car was long closed but the remaining Club Car attendants were all drinking from bottles and cups they had brought themselves. We made fantastic train friends. We met a lumberjack who works in Oregon and he was on the train back to Vermont for Christmas. Oregon to Vermont--on a train! Did you know that such things still happen in America? We met a Humboldt State University student who was going from California to New York to visit his aunt. And then there was the gay couple going from Chicago to Cleveland like us. I wanted to keep them forever and write a sitcom with them. I dream about running into them again and then going to brunch. I mention brunch because we talked about being Chicago Brunchers, not because that's a thing I assume they'd enjoy. Then at about 5:30 am we rolled into the Cleveland station to begin a dreamy holiday break in snowy Ohio. (Because it hadn't snowed yet in Chicago. Weird.)
-MF and I then indulged in various activities of the season, such as driving out to my favorite neighborhood for Christmas lights. Yes, many of the houses are gorgeous, but there is one in particular that I needed him to see. This house is ridiculous in the best way possible. First of all, the decorations at this place touch on all of the symbols of Christmas. There is a massive lighted crucifix hanging in a tree and strands of lights go down to the ground, probably to suggest a "waterfall" of "glory." And, you know, lights. There are also penguins riding on a roller coaster. There are M&M characters on a ferris wheel. There is a giraffe dressed as Santa Claus posing in a rotating glass cube. There is a bear riding a unicycle on a tight rope. There is a dog commandeering an airplane. And there is a life size nativity scene on this family's front porch while all nine reindeer perch on the roof above. It's a scene, one that encompasses the true meaning of Christmas. In America.
-Christmas eve and day came and went. There are many omitted details from this section because really it's a bunch of stuff that you already know about assuming you celebrate Christmas. And if you don't, then I guess it will just continue to be a mystery. I took Boy to the airport on Christmas Day and when I returned I started reading Bossypants. I finished it in a sitting. I think it surprises a fair amount of people that I had never read it before receiving it for Christmas. As a self described Tinaphile, one would think I had done this already. But I had not! There's a lot of things you'd think I'd done already, such as reading any book that can be described as a classic. Anyway, I read the book super fast and then immediately wanted to get to work on this list of goals I made a few months ago, many items being very superlative and a little crazy. Things like, "Be most powerful lady writer in world" are on this list a long with "Hand personal thank you letter to Conan O'Brien." My mind only works in extremes, what can I say.
-New Years Eve began the most delightful of friendship reunions. I drove to Pittsburgh to go see Biz, my best friend who I managed to not see at all when we were both in Akron. In case you haven't noticed, one of my goals with this blog is to maintain a degree of anonymity for characters who are mentioned fairly often, hence Man Friend and Room Mate being referred to as thus. The internet is a weird place and you never know who is reading what. But Biz is different in that you need to know her name to understand her character. People constantly ask me, "Biiiiz? Is that her real name?" And I say, "Yes, but I'm not sure she's a real person." I mean that with love. Most of the hilarious dumb things I've done in my life have been with Biz so OBVIOUSLY I had to spend my NYE with her for the second year in a row. This year, however, had the added bonus of two of my greatest buddies from college also partying in Pitt for NYE. The planets had aligned. I pretty evenly split my time between the two groups and we (college pals, boys mind you) even managed to be the lone dancers at Diesel, the classiest night club in Pittsburgh. We were there because there was no cover charge until 10 and, as it was 8:30 when we rolled up, we more than took advantage of the lack-of-people. We even had our picture taken with the women of Diesel! The four women of Diesel did that girl thing where they recognized that I am not as good looking as them but my two male friends seemed excited by their sparkly mini dresses so they were like, "No, sweetie, you get in the front!" And I was like ugggggh and I am literally lurking in the shadows of this picture. As the evening progressed and I parted ways with the boys, I found myself at a party with Biz and her friends. Biz only got in one altercation with another girl and fists were not even thrown, so it was a very tame evening. Then we held hands and walked home. Hoorah 2013!
And that was, more or less, the 10 days I spent away from Chicago. They were very good and I think I needed them. The life of the post-grad can be psychologically damaging, and I mean that in the least worrisome way possible. We are used to immediacy. We want answers now. And when perfection or our definition of successful isn't accomplished really really fast, it's very easy to think, "well, I guess I just wasted 4 years." The obvious wisdom/advice I keep reminding myself of is to be patient but being patient is kind of weird when I'm not working towards something as concrete as a degree. Setting your own time table! It's rough man, let me tell you. Be most powerful lady writer in world....in 20 years. Guh, fine. I'll wait but I don't like it. Anyway, home time was very re-affirming for my goals, interests, plans, hopes, dreams, fears, etc., etc. Why, you ask? I have no idea. That's just how it works, I think. Also there were cats and a mommy there so that probably affected my sub-conscious. And the eastern standard time zone, which I miss EVERY DAY.
Next up: my new years resolutions! But not now. I am hungry and I made a promise to myself that I would not make dinner until I finished writing this. A list of new years resolutions is also something I've yet to come up with, so maybe I'll take a crack at that. Spoiler alert: there will be no mention of going to the gym.
This is a picture my boyfriend sent me. It has nothing to with anything you just read. I'm trying to come up with a connection but I got nothing. Here's to 2013, the year of baby models rocking creepy glasses.
-The Man Friend and I boarded an AmTrak bound for Cleveland on the night of December 21. We both decided that if the world was indeed ending, we would at least be on a train together. The entire journey was in darkness, but that's fine because you're supposed to sleep through those kinds of train rides. Did we sleep? For sure not. We did not sleep because of the two clowns sitting behind us. They had never met before selecting their seats next to one another, so they had years of stories their real friends had already heard. But because they were new friends, they could re-tell stories about being in marching band at their respective colleges and all the cool music apps they had on their phones. You want to know something funny about music apps? They make noise. Once we had put up with them for far too long, we decided to make our way to the Club Car and see what kind of characters we could find there. And guess what? Characters abound! In case you didn't know, drinking is allowed on the AmTrak and you can even bring your own 6-packs or bottles of wine/liquor or just buy it from the Cafe Car. At this point, we were closing in on 3 am so the Cafe Car was long closed but the remaining Club Car attendants were all drinking from bottles and cups they had brought themselves. We made fantastic train friends. We met a lumberjack who works in Oregon and he was on the train back to Vermont for Christmas. Oregon to Vermont--on a train! Did you know that such things still happen in America? We met a Humboldt State University student who was going from California to New York to visit his aunt. And then there was the gay couple going from Chicago to Cleveland like us. I wanted to keep them forever and write a sitcom with them. I dream about running into them again and then going to brunch. I mention brunch because we talked about being Chicago Brunchers, not because that's a thing I assume they'd enjoy. Then at about 5:30 am we rolled into the Cleveland station to begin a dreamy holiday break in snowy Ohio. (Because it hadn't snowed yet in Chicago. Weird.)
-MF and I then indulged in various activities of the season, such as driving out to my favorite neighborhood for Christmas lights. Yes, many of the houses are gorgeous, but there is one in particular that I needed him to see. This house is ridiculous in the best way possible. First of all, the decorations at this place touch on all of the symbols of Christmas. There is a massive lighted crucifix hanging in a tree and strands of lights go down to the ground, probably to suggest a "waterfall" of "glory." And, you know, lights. There are also penguins riding on a roller coaster. There are M&M characters on a ferris wheel. There is a giraffe dressed as Santa Claus posing in a rotating glass cube. There is a bear riding a unicycle on a tight rope. There is a dog commandeering an airplane. And there is a life size nativity scene on this family's front porch while all nine reindeer perch on the roof above. It's a scene, one that encompasses the true meaning of Christmas. In America.
-Christmas eve and day came and went. There are many omitted details from this section because really it's a bunch of stuff that you already know about assuming you celebrate Christmas. And if you don't, then I guess it will just continue to be a mystery. I took Boy to the airport on Christmas Day and when I returned I started reading Bossypants. I finished it in a sitting. I think it surprises a fair amount of people that I had never read it before receiving it for Christmas. As a self described Tinaphile, one would think I had done this already. But I had not! There's a lot of things you'd think I'd done already, such as reading any book that can be described as a classic. Anyway, I read the book super fast and then immediately wanted to get to work on this list of goals I made a few months ago, many items being very superlative and a little crazy. Things like, "Be most powerful lady writer in world" are on this list a long with "Hand personal thank you letter to Conan O'Brien." My mind only works in extremes, what can I say.
-New Years Eve began the most delightful of friendship reunions. I drove to Pittsburgh to go see Biz, my best friend who I managed to not see at all when we were both in Akron. In case you haven't noticed, one of my goals with this blog is to maintain a degree of anonymity for characters who are mentioned fairly often, hence Man Friend and Room Mate being referred to as thus. The internet is a weird place and you never know who is reading what. But Biz is different in that you need to know her name to understand her character. People constantly ask me, "Biiiiz? Is that her real name?" And I say, "Yes, but I'm not sure she's a real person." I mean that with love. Most of the hilarious dumb things I've done in my life have been with Biz so OBVIOUSLY I had to spend my NYE with her for the second year in a row. This year, however, had the added bonus of two of my greatest buddies from college also partying in Pitt for NYE. The planets had aligned. I pretty evenly split my time between the two groups and we (college pals, boys mind you) even managed to be the lone dancers at Diesel, the classiest night club in Pittsburgh. We were there because there was no cover charge until 10 and, as it was 8:30 when we rolled up, we more than took advantage of the lack-of-people. We even had our picture taken with the women of Diesel! The four women of Diesel did that girl thing where they recognized that I am not as good looking as them but my two male friends seemed excited by their sparkly mini dresses so they were like, "No, sweetie, you get in the front!" And I was like ugggggh and I am literally lurking in the shadows of this picture. As the evening progressed and I parted ways with the boys, I found myself at a party with Biz and her friends. Biz only got in one altercation with another girl and fists were not even thrown, so it was a very tame evening. Then we held hands and walked home. Hoorah 2013!
And that was, more or less, the 10 days I spent away from Chicago. They were very good and I think I needed them. The life of the post-grad can be psychologically damaging, and I mean that in the least worrisome way possible. We are used to immediacy. We want answers now. And when perfection or our definition of successful isn't accomplished really really fast, it's very easy to think, "well, I guess I just wasted 4 years." The obvious wisdom/advice I keep reminding myself of is to be patient but being patient is kind of weird when I'm not working towards something as concrete as a degree. Setting your own time table! It's rough man, let me tell you. Be most powerful lady writer in world....in 20 years. Guh, fine. I'll wait but I don't like it. Anyway, home time was very re-affirming for my goals, interests, plans, hopes, dreams, fears, etc., etc. Why, you ask? I have no idea. That's just how it works, I think. Also there were cats and a mommy there so that probably affected my sub-conscious. And the eastern standard time zone, which I miss EVERY DAY.
Next up: my new years resolutions! But not now. I am hungry and I made a promise to myself that I would not make dinner until I finished writing this. A list of new years resolutions is also something I've yet to come up with, so maybe I'll take a crack at that. Spoiler alert: there will be no mention of going to the gym.
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