Summer Sentiments on Screenwriting

I’m listening to Sigur Ros’ Staralfur and feeling inspired to let my thoughts bleed out a little, so here I am.

Today was my last class of screen writing at BU. To be honest, its difficult for me to truthfully say that it was a good experience. I didn’t like most of the people in the class, the Professor was iffy at best and I didn’t feel any of the usual pangs of nostalgia that come along when you leave behind an incredible experience. So why do I tell everyone else, and myself, that summer screen writing 1 was a good experience? Because it was. I didn’t leave with a polished, finished product, but I left knowing something. I left with an understanding of where I am and where I need to be. An appreciation of the level of commitment, foresight and creativity that goes into writing something that people will both enjoy and be moved by. So in that light, it has been a good experience. Maybe my skill as a writer is the same as it was six weeks ago, but that wasn’t the purpose of the course. It wasn’t intended to transform me into screen writer. The class was designed to give me the basic tools so that I could make myself a better writer. I can look at what I’ve written and identify my flaws and (ideally) correct them.

I’m not a better writer yet, but I honestly think that I now have the skills and potential to create something beautiful in the future. And that’s all I want.

Web Series

It’s articles like this that make me feel warm, comfortable and hopeful about dreaming of being a screen writer/producer. (and no, it’s not because of the blonde babe at the top of the page, though she helps too.)

http://www.salon.com/ent/tv/feature/2008/06/18/internet_series/

Granted, only a few web series ever become popular enough to receive notereity outside of small, hipster blogospheres but they still give me hope. Hope that just a few young people with some creativity, talent and drive are able to create something so simple yet has such appeal to an audience. Of course, “We Need Girlfriends” is on the list (and they hold onto a special piece of my heart-oh Brian Amyot…), but I’m realizing more and more just how many web-series are out there, not including the “Star Wars” reenactments that you and your kid cousin film during family reunions. I’m talking about well-written, carefully constructed web-series that can withstand the pressure of being an actual series.

For the most part, the creators of these shows seem to be average people leading average lives, which is a big boost for me considering my life is fabulously uninteresting. I think what these creators, and audiences, are realizing is that we do not need/want/like all of the stuff shown to us on tv or on the big screen. Sometimes all we want is a little humanity. Some honesty. Some heartbreak. Some pathetic guys and some serious relationship mistakes. I wrote a whole paper on this; how web-series are bringing a new look to our media and I think its really starting to take root. And all I want is to be a part of that before everything goes stale. I want to meet and work with these creative, talented and motivated people to create something completely our own that we can proudly share with people all over the country. The only problem is that I have to find that in myself before I can find it in other people.

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18 hours (From Somerville to the Sofa)

With a little bit of rounding, I can say that I’ve been awake for roughly 18 hours today. Now, 18 hours is a long day, but its not particularly remarkable. So what makes my 18 hour day so remarkable? Very little, to be honest. I’m trying to figure out what I’m doing with my life. I spent roughly 9 hours doing work related stuff (getting to and from work, getting to and from the market, actually working) but then the rest of the day…where did it go? It got sucked away by hours of videos games, random tv shows and Fast Times at Ridgemont High.

Today was the grand opening of the Union Square Farmer’s Market in Somerville. Exciting right? Well it was, for someone who had never worked a farmer’s market before. For someone who got locked out of the lock box which held all of his change (ironic, ain’t it?). To be honest, it was fun. It was hectic but it was fun. I didn’t look up for about 2 and a half hours as I helped people, but it was fun. Not withstanding the continuing ache in my legs, I wouldn’t mind doing it again sometime this summer. I even managed to strike up little 15-minute friendships with some of the people at the market. In retrospect, this one woman, who was probably about 5 years my senior, and I hit it off very well and were sort of flirty in a retail-customer sort of fashion. In another life, maybe I would have asked her for her number. But it’s time to cut the daydreams. Work was work. Fun, but tiring and covered in flour.

I came home today from work, walked the dog, took a shower and then stopped. “What the hell am I going to do now?” I asked myself? I literally had nothing to do for the rest of the day. It was 4 o’clock. I didn’t need to read or write for class. I didn’t have any chores or places to be later. All I had was a laptop and basic cable. So that’s what I did for the other 9 hours of my day. I wasted it. Poof. Gone.

I got off the couch at midnight, realizing how pathetic my evening had been (I had only made a few half-hearted attempts to meet up with a few friends so I can only blame myself), I realized that I had just wasted a day. But “wasting” means I threw it away. That I had something bigger, better and more important to be doing. Is it a waste of a day when no one’s around and the air is so humid that you’re skin is permanently lined with a thin, sticky layer of perspiration? I don’t know. I wish I had done something else, but looking back at my options, it seems that there were few other choices.

So maybe this is what my mother means when she tells me to “branch out more” when it comes to calling friends, remark which I almost always ignore. Is it time for me to just pick up the phone and call someone who I never call? Should I have asked the girl at the market for her number? Even knowing how awkward the encounter will be? Even knowing that the result will almost inevitably be rejection?

Almost. I guess that’s the key word. Almost means most of the time not all of the time. So maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe I’ll put my quarter in the slot machine, pull the lever and leave a whole lot richer. Who knows. I guess that’s the answer. 18 hours of consciousness and that’s my conclusion. Grow a pair and pick up the phone.

Broken Catharsis

In class, we talk about the differences between real life and what we see on the screen. It’s not the Hollywood fantasy that we discuss though, it’s cause and effect. In a movie, there is purpose behind everything. Every action, every word means something and has a profound effect on the future. In real life, there is spontaneity and irrationality. People act as they please. That is not say that the real world is without the structure of cause and effect, because our actions do have an impact on our lives, but not in the same, direct way that it does in a film.

We’ve used the example in class that, in real life, a person can simply try becoming a vegetarian on a whim. For the sake of trying. For a bit of change. In a film, that doesn’t happen. Everything happens for a reason. Actions and words are pre-meditated and can be rooted in some sort of reason. Unfortunately, we are not so clearheaded in our own lives.

In real life, I’m slow to show enthusiasm for a relationship out of fear, hesitation and a host of other irrational, inexplicable thoughts and emotions that come roaring through my mind when I’m faced with a decision. I’m hesitant because of my uncertainty. How do I know things will work out? Do I really love this person or is lust, born out of loneliness, that is pushing me towards a relationship? What if I fuck everything up like I have in the past? What if? What if?

In real life, I’m terrified of openness, honesty and commitment when it comes pursuing relationships. Is the translation from brain to mouth clear? Are my feelings justified and true? Will my truth hurt someone? How can I be honest with someone else when I’m not sure if I’m honest with myself?

I’m not one for lying and I’m not one for leading on, but when it comes to relationships, some part of my level-headedness vanishes. I become the kind of guy that girlfriends hate. I become the kind of guy that I know I’m not and never want to become. I don’t know why it happens. It’s my not-so-incredible Hulk alter-ego that is incapable of giving clear signals and ends up breaking hearts because he’s too fucking scared of himself to act in the moment.

I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m safer when I’m single. When I keep my distance, I minimize the risk of getting to close and then abruptly cutting things off, as I have in the past. This conclusion isn’t something I’m happy about or even content with accepting. I wish it wasn’t true. I still hope it isn’t true in fact. I keep whispering to myself that I just need a fresh start. Somewhere where stories spread like infection and everyone is too close for comfort. Maybe I need to find someone with no ties. Maybe, probably, I’m going to read this in the morning and I realize that most of what I’ve said isn’t true at all. Maybe this is all aimless, mindless wandering and I’m saying things that the pathetic, self-pitying Gabe is looking for in order seek catharsis. Just venting frustration into the open air for the sake of it. Maybe that’s what this is, just letting it all out, regardless of accuracy and cohesion.

This is real life, not a script. What I’ve just written isn’t cause and effect. You don’t know what started this or to what end this moving towards. This is here and this is now, that’s it. The world of the screen is about events that spark characters into action and ultimately, there is a final cause and a effect: the climax. The real world is far more cumulative. There are no finite beginnings and endings. We live in a continuum. We are not points on a line. But that’s what I need. I’m not even sure what that means or what it would entail, but it sounds strangely idealistic right now.

I think I’ve lost my clarity and train of thought. I apologize. I didn’t intend for this to be melodramatic or make me sound depressed. I think I’m wrestling with some long-standing issues that I’m trying to keep vague by speaking in generalities. Thanks for bearing with me. I’ll try to perk up for nice time.