Writer's Journal
SYSTEMATIZE ME
My word of the week: systematize. I don’t like to think I’m compartmentalizing myself—as if I could even succeed in doing that—I’m simply systematizing my life, or: making the work automatic. I’m not cramming myself into neat little boxes, only creating deadlines in order to really get this thing (my writing career) off the ground. I don’t like to live habitually, and I never want to force myself to do something I don’t want to do. However, at the same time, I think that in order to accomplish anything in a timely manner it’s not wrong to set some expectations—especially when the prospect of a potential audience looms just beyond the edge of the horizon.
And, really, that has been the turning point: the fact that I no longer see my writing as a lone endeavour for my friends and family to keep tabs on me; I now see it as something that may soon enough permeate into disparate circles, populated by people I do not know personally. Essentially, I’m ready to build an audience.
Consistency is the greatest virtue in this content economy. Yes, the quality of the work should be at least passable, but if I were to post only once in a blue moon then it would matter only nominally. For people like myself who lack connections in the industry, to be a drop in the bucket is simply not enough. I doubt that people get “discovered” anymore, not really—not in the way they used to at least. Everything is so distanced these days. It is not out of the norm for an actor to never meet with his or her agent—not to mention the fact that audition rooms are a thing of the past. I have to imagine that it is much the same for writers. Not long ago I looked up a publishing company that was accepting submissions, and saw that one of the requirements was to bring in a study of the literary market and how it relates to the marketability and saleability of my work. I thought, “Isn’t that their job?” I’m just a writer after all—I write. That is the extent of my interest in the matter. Aren’t the publishing agencies the ones with their fingers on the pulse? But, that is no longer the expectation. No. Instead, the expectation is that we do all the work, and pray to God that a bone gets thrown our way. It’s quite possible these agencies are up to their necks already, doing favors for recent MFA graduates as well as the rich and powerful—but, perhaps that is uninformed, and a little sour.
All of this is to say: I’ve been doing really well. After experiencing a short bout of burnout after completing the first draft of two new plays, I feel like I’m already back in the saddle. It helps when you have things to look forward to. Right now, I’m talking to someone about putting on a staged reading of one of those new plays, and am about to enter into rehearsals for a restaging of my very first play (The Building Play) that will go up nearly a year to the day after we originally performed it. I’ve never been busier. I feel good, and want to keep the good vibes going.
What’s Been Inspiring Me:
Nietzsche's On the Genealogy of Morality: I always feel better when reading philosophy. I think my plays are really just a mass of ideas with a story draped over them. It’s just difficult to get into these types of books. I took from it a lot of interesting ideas (and left behind even more than that) about morality and its development, especially in relation to Judeo-Christian ideals—ideals which permeate the fabric of America like no other philosophy. I think religious texts are often the only form of philosophy most people come in contact with—or can stomach, I should say. But, religion isn’t philosophy. It’s philosophy with a pinch of dogma, to give it that extra punch.
Castle in the Sky & Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind: I’m working on an article about the morality of Hayao Miyazaki’s movies. Something to do with pacifism, and living outside of the mainstream channels of thought. Cycles of nature. Cycles of hate. How killing begets killing. Politics begets politics. How institutions can not be changed from within but must be subverted and uprooted. How hate cannot destroy hate. Stuff like that.
Nana Grizol’s album Ursa Minor. Listen to “Mississippi Swells.”