Put up

Sometimes you’ve got to put up or shut up. I figured it was time to do one or the other about one my personal fantasies.

I guess it was about five years ago that I really first voiced the idea.

Cue the squiggly lines of a flashback…
I was interviewing Ira Glass for a story about This American Life for the Chicago Tribune. The interview was really good – Ira talked really openly about his vision for the show, about how radio works, about the nature of storytelling and about lying.

In a lot of ways I was lying myself – but was brutally honest about one thing... I'll get to that in a moment.

To paraphrase, I asked him how he envisioned a story. He gave me a weird look.

Vision – that which is viewed by the eye – has less to do with the stories he makes on the radio. He heard everything. He evokes responses with words and sounds.

I got it, I thought.

He’s a journalist – after an hour or so, he turned the tables on me. He asked me how I envision my stories – my articles. I told him I see them. Like tracking shots and slow-motion and close, tight shots on people’s eyes and mouths. He looked at me and said, “Sounds like you make movies.”

I didn’t, but when he said that – I thought… “Yeah, maybe I do make movies.” Except they live in my head and no one sees them.

So, flash forward a few years. I’ve landed a pretty sweet gig where I’m pulling down some Internet money. (Remember those days?) Anyway, I start thinking maybe I should go to film school – but that takes money. I start socking away cash. Nothing major – I throw it into an account, do a little investing and hope that in 4 or 5 years I’ll have enough dough saved up to finance a trip to film school.

Then comes April, 2000 – the bad month when the bubble starts to burst. Of course, we didn’t really know that at the time. I knew I was on shaky ground. But if I got out when the panic was happening I’d lose my ass.

I played it Hoosier and decided to ride it out. That’s what we do, we buy and we hold. In the end, I barely managed to hold on to about $700. By the time I cashed out I did it out of desperation because I’d lost my job and needed to pay the rent.

I had to start over, and then I started reconsidering film school. Not because I didn’t think I could do it – I just couldn’t see how I could afford to do it. I started kicking around another idea like taking a few screenwriting classes.

In March of 2003 I saw a brochure for classes in Cambridge – nothing fancy, but for a few bucks I could figure out if this is something I’m interested in doing. I found a class, filled out a form and cracked out my Visa – so now the experiment begins…

Or rather – it began about three weeks ago.

The screenwriting class is interesting. I find my peers fascinating – they represent a great cross-section of my new city. The first night I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was surprised to hear that so many people talking about completed first drafts.

They had completed first drafts and I barely had an idea in my head.

Its three weeks later and I have ideas now. Or rather – I’m honing an idea. And I have about 20 pages complete. I may never get to page 21. I may never see these meager pages go anywhere other than to a file at the back of a desk drawer – but I am trying. I figure that counts for something.

More importantly, I’m doing something creative again. Sometimes I forget that I started life as a creative person. And I enjoy creating something that doesn’t involve spreadsheets or Gant charts or project plans. The class helps to keep me focused. I have to be disciplined to move ahead. I have writing tasks. I have a goal.

I am falling back into familiar rhythms and patterns that I thought had been long forgotten. It’s like riding a bike I guess. Except that now I’m at the top of a big hill on a warm summer day and the wind is to my back.

Labels: 2003

By: Alyssa | Thursday, April 24, 2003 at Thursday, April 24, 2003 | |