How are you?

Yes, I have been absent once again. But I have been busy, plugging away at submissions, still trying to get stuff happen. Still wishing that stuff would just happen without me having to put so much work into it. Still realizing that as hard as I think I'm pushing it, I could be doing so much more.

Yesterday I posted on facebook that never hearing at all is much worse than hearing "no". Which is true. A lot of people like to say "Oh, you get so much rejection in this business", but to me it seems like you're lucky to even get rejected. Most of the time, you just don't hear back one way or the other. I usually try to give myself a drop dead date for projects I'm really hoping for--after that date, I must agree to let all hope die, and put it out of my mind.

That sounds harsh and depressing. It's not, really. It just helps me keep moving on to the next thing.

In other news, I am almost finished Christmas shopping, which is great, and nowhere near finished figuring out the Christmas dinner we are hosting, which is less great. I'm finishing my last submission for a couple of weeks today, but then realized that I promised a director a rewrite for mid-December. Oops! I am also not nearly finished my Christmas knitting, which is something I should go plug away at right now.

But you. How are you?

Taking Yourself Seriously

Hello, friends...
I'm here at work where we are having a rather shitty day due to all technological systems epically failing. Prior to that, I was at the dentist (did I mention I have severe dentist anxiety? Going regularly has actually helped.) where I made it through the whole cleaning and they were like "let's just get the dentist to check this one spot" and it turned out to be a brand new tiny cavity, and they said "hey, let's just fill this right now, no anesthetic needed!" and before I knew it, I was getting a surprise dental filling. Surprise!

But I digress... I've been thinking about how to learn to take myself seriously. A serious topic, no?

In my voice lesson on Saturday (with my lovely and amazing new teacher), she kept reminding me to "find my singer"--which essentially is shorthand for standing up like a human and using breath support--and I realized that I was not-so-secretly thinking to myself that no one would take me seriously. That if I just over-casualize things, I'll be at no risk of people thinking I'm actually trying to do something.

Because... I don't deserve to be heard?
Because... it's safer than taking a risk of possibly failing?
Because...?

Which is kind of a random realization to come to. A bit of a heavy realization, really, if one suddenly understands that this applies to many aspects of one's life.

"Oh, don't mind me, I'm just kind of goofing off, don't even look, because I'm not really trying to do anything."

Right? No possibility of success, no possibility of failure. Which is rather lame, since I DO want to do things, and be taken seriously, and apparently a major issue may be to convince myself that I have as much right to be here doing my thing as anyone else. What if I've just been lamenting that no one takes me seriously, when I've been sabotaging things by not taking myself seriously?

Does this even make sense? I may come back and clarify when I'm no longer in a post-dentist-adrenalin surge.

ETA: I did come and clean this up a little. So there!

Good Things, Bad Things

Of course, I recovered from my overly dramatized insomnia. And along with Daylight Savings Time comes the flip side of getting to sleep in an extra hour--darkness by 5:30. In my particular corner of the world, we are fortunate enough to have some kind of daylight from 5am to 11pm in the summer, but the other side of the coin involves December--when it's dark when you arrive at work, and dark when you leave. Incredibly depressing. The ridiculously frigid temperatures don't help much, either.

All this talk of the flip side is bringing me back to my youth--that song "Living On The B Side" or whatever it was called. Does anyone besides me remember that?

Good things about this weekend:
I started my play. I am 10 pages in (mostly monologue, so it's a lot of writing), and still managing to outrun the "this is crap" thoughts and just write. I have promised myself that if it will be an utter embarrassment, I won't submit it to the thing whose deadline I am forcing myself to write toward. We'll see if I am qualified to judge that.

I got asked "Are you skinny?" today by a good friend who hadn't seen me in a while. Apparently I am looking quite a bit skinnier, even to a boy who is usually unobservant about these things.

Our awesome jar system seems to be working well for our finances. Tons of healthy groceries purchased, and some money left for the rest of the week.

I got a flu shot.

I finally got some more copies of one of my other scripts printed to send out to the companies who don't do electronic submissions.


Bad (or Less Good) Things About This Weekend:

I haven't been to the gym in almost 2 weeks. I was legitimately sick for about a week, and then circumstances/lack of motivation conspired to keep me away from the elliptical. Oops. The many mini chocolate bars at my disposal were not allies, either.

I managed to take two whole days off and spend them working. Not on my day job, which I'm trying to get a little distance from, but on my editing gig (we can really use the extra cash for the holidays), and this stupid play that may not really be a play. I have this thing where I feel restless and guilty about "not doing anything", but feel frazzled and overworked when I allow myself to do as much shit as possible and get everything accomplished in my free time.

Although I now have the money (or at least, thrift store money) to get some new pants, I didn't manage to squeeze clothes shopping in this weekend. Must do that this week, since my work clothes look silly.

Have not practiced singing nearly enough.

This week, I have a lot of things to do: send out at least one script, keep working on that elusive first draft, get some new pants, get some singing happening. And get back to the gym! Snow is supposed to start happening this week, which is ick, although we're already 3 weeks behind schedule.

What are you doing this week?

Insomnia

Insomnia is the absolute worst thing. I know they say to get out of bed and go do something rather than just lying there not sleeping, but I'm too tired to do anything besides read the internet. And I feel like I'm running out of internet to read. Plus there's the anxiety that the clock inches ever closer to the time I need to get up for work tomorrow morning. Ever have that "OK, if I go to sleep RIGHT NOW, I will get 5 hours of sleep. If I go to sleep RIGHT NOW, I will still get over 4 and a half hours of sleep. OK, I'll go to sleep NOW. No, NOW." And so on.

Insomnia always gets me a little maudlin, as well. All that time alone with your thoughts to contemplate what you've done wrong in your life, or even better, what you're probably doing wrong RIGHT NOW and don't even realize it yet--it won't become apparent until some insomniac night several years from now.

OK, insomnia may make me a little overdramatic. It's not life or death stuff. Mostly I'm thinking about how it's still so painful to try and make friends with people and be rejected. I blame this on four things: elementary school, junior high, high school, and facebook. I think I may have a special sensitivity to this issue, having not been terribly good at making friends in my formative years. I had that great combination of being a little shy and a lot sensitive, which made me bully bait, which made me socially awkward, which made me bully bait, which made me... well, you get the picture. But even now, I'm sooooo sensitive to rejection of the personal nature. I get that not everyone has to like me or want to be my friend. But it still hurts to be outright rejected, or, somehow worse, ignored.

It's funny, rejection professionally is frustrating and sadness-making, but it just doesn't hit me in the same place. I guess I feel more confident in my artistic abilities than I am in my person-abilities?

Argh, clearly contemplating these kinds of issues are not going to help me with my sleep problem. Going to go try and catch some zeds, friends.

On awaiting responses...

A friend and fellow playwright wrote something to this effect on facebook the other day:

"Along with every script sent out goes a little bit of hope, which must be forgotten."

Which I thought described exactly what it's like to send out scripts.

Sending out scripts isn't terribly difficult. You don't need to "know" people (although it can help). All you need to do is some research--what companies are developing/producing new work? Of those companies, which of them do seasons which could possibly include your play? How do they like their submissions--first 10 pages and a summary, or full script, or only on recommendation of someone they know? Really, you just have to be organized, have a strong summary and a good query letter. And copies of your script, for those companies that aren't accepting electronic submissions.

Sending them out is a little bit fun--there's possibility attached to each one, one more of those magic if's that we are so fond of in theatre. And you know, they say you have to have a thick skin to deal with all the rejection in the arts, but the truth of it is, a lot of times the only response you get is no response at all.

Same goes for auditions--if you hear nothing, it means that someone else must have gotten it, and no one is going to tell you how good you were, or what you could do to improve. No news is their final answer.

I have some scripts that have been out for close to a year, with no response. I always struggle in terms of follow up, especially with utter strangers--people I don't know, and with whom my friends didn't put in a good word for me.

I don't think about it a lot--I figure the more people I get to read my scripts, the better my chances are of finding someone who's excited about them and wants to develop them further. All you can do is keep moving forward, because seriously, you could be waiting forever and never hear a word.

Do You Have A Creative Motto?

Well, I guess it's more of an inspirational quote than a motto, strictly speaking, but this year I've found a lot of strength from this particular quotation:

Still and all, why bother? Here's my answer. Many people need desperately to receive this message: 'I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people do not care about them. You are not alone.'
Kurt Vonnegut

That kick in the ass...

Don't we all need one, sometimes?

I have a great job--an arts-adjacent job where it's understood that this is NOT where I want to be for the rest of my life, and that it's expected that I will take time off to do gigs here and there, or go to playwriting workshops, or what have you. They bank my time, so I get paid when I'm not here. They're flexible with my hours. My co-workers are divine. The rest of the organization... well, thankfully I don't have a lot of contact with them.

However, yesterday, I had to get involved in a multi-departmental situation, and to stand up for myself and my department after getting a rather dismissive email smackdown. I agonized while sending my response, thought about it and thought about what I should have said while I was leaving work. And then, at the gym, the machines with little tv's attached were full. I know, you don't work quite as hard while watching tv, but it was my guilty pleasure and a good way to pass the time. So I was forced to just listen to my ipod the whole time.

Which was great, because I realized that I was getting worked up over whether people would still like me, or if I would be successful in my job, or feeling like I didn't belong in my job, when it suddenly hit me:

I don't belong in this job.

I mean, I am mostly good (even very good) at my job, but was I born to deal with administrative issues and spreadsheets and resolving customer disputes? No. No, that's really not what I'm cut out to do. So all my wishing that I was in a rehearsal hall, or in my studio at home, or writing in some coffee shop--all that stuff is what I'm made to do. To make things, to be creative.

So why should I lose sleep and get my stomach in knots over a job that I should be working towards eventually not needing? Shouldn't I focus my energy on getting some more gigs, on writing more, on getting myself out there so I can spend my time doing the thing I really like?

It's hard. I'm an over-achiever. I like to be good at everything. I need to please people. I need to stop doing that so much. I need to stop making excuses--and isn't "I'm too worried about work which is eating all my brain time anyway" an excuse?

I am starting a new play--the one that I'm not sure if it's a play or a personal demon. I have a feeling I won't know until I get there. Starting makes me nervous. Not starting makes me crazy. It's time, people!

So that was my kick in the ass for the week. What was yours?

Readings and Writings (but no 'Rithmetic)

Just a quick update--I am doing a 10-minute reading from my latest play this weekend, which I'm excited and a little nervous about. It was one of those things that initially made me think "Aaaah! I can't do this!", which immediately made me think "Then I should say I'll do it." I've never done a reading of my own work, so there's all the fussy little details of how to differentiate between characters while reading, and what section to choose that is relatively self-contained but still entertaining.

I've also been plugging away at my submissions--I'm submitting to a couple of festivals this week that would take me to other cities. Which is exciting! But I'm not getting my hopes up too high. Yet.

I had coffee with my old singing teacher yesterday, and we had a brief chat about all the shenanigans with my current teacher, who I guess has also become my old teacher, because I just kind of took a break, which turned into an extended leave.

Which has been good, ultimately. Although it seems like it could be awkward, but neither of us have tried to contact the other re: more lessons, so I think it's best that the two of us continue down our separate paths.

I'm already in the planning stages of another workshop in January (the same play I'm reading from on Saturday), and I probably have to find a different director due to scheduling issues. I'm not exactly thrilled or bursting with ideas at the moment about this. I suppose I would say I'm open, but choosy.

And I think that's all the news that is the news. I have a vague feeling that I should be starting a new writing project soon, but I don't know if it's a "should because isn't that what I ought to be doing" or a "should because I am ready to begin a new project".

I guess we'll see.

Support

Well, the grant is in, and now all we have to do is wait. In the meantime, I read the letters of support that went along with the grant--I was humbled. These people said incredible things about my work and my play, and I just feel--well, humbled.

It's so easy to feel alone in this business--it's easy to feel like you're being passed over, or everyone else is doing amazing things while you're being left behind, or that you're just not accomplishing things fast enough. But I felt so good that so many people were so into the project, and so excited to be a part of it. And that, eventually, finally I will get to see this play in production somewhere in the next few seasons.

So. I sent out some submissions that I've been sitting on for a while, just out of--I don't know, laziness? Inertia? But it felt good to get off my ass and actually do something proactive. I think everyone has those pity-parties once in a while. How couldn't you? But it's not how many times you fall, it's how many times you get back up.

Isn't it funny when cheesy things are true?

Whew!

Today I am rejoicing in two things, one a little more narcissistic than the other:
1) I got my first weight-loss compliment from a stranger (well, my boss, but from someone who is not related to/married to me)
2) Today is a grant deadline and I have a fantastic grant application winging its way to the powers that be!

With regards to (1), I think I probably whine about my chub quite enough on the blog, but it seems like something is finally working. I am now down almost 20 lbs from the start of the year, which is sloooooooow, but I'll take it!

With regards to (2), well, a local director with a respected and established independent theatre company approached me last weekend and said "Hey, I've been thinking--I'd like us to apply for a grant to do a large-scale workshop of your play. Only trouble is the deadline is Thursday. Do you think we can do it?"

Well, obviously we can! So I have spent the last few days writing synopses, artist statements, and helping to assemble a crack team of artists to work on this project, should it actually get some funding. I'm excited! And kind of blown away when said director told me the names of the people who were writing letters of support for our application. Some crazy important people are very supportive of me and my work. Which sounds like bragging, but I'm kind of in awe about it.

I really hope this goes through! Now, to sit back and wait for the next 5 months... no, just kidding. I've got to keep the momentum going, right?

Fight inertia!

Time To Make Shit Happen

Every so often, usually coinciding with my re-emergence from a blue period, like, say, this past few weeks, I get the idea that it's time to make shit happen. I get brave. I somewhat foolhardily sign myself up for things that I want to chicken out of when the time comes, but somehow force myself to do anyway. I get things done. I take chances.

This most recent blue period came with the familiar everyone else is doing stuff that's awesome and I'm just stuck in my job becoming more and more forgotten with each passing second. I know. Artist's pity party. Just general pity party.

So I'm going to do something about it. Like, apply to a performance creation intensive in another city in November. Like, somehow come up with the money to actually go. Send some pieces to some American festivals and hope to get invited to hear my plays read in NYC and Philadelphia. Do the rewrites I need to do to get the scripts in readable-by-others form. Get off my ass and do those rewrites for the potential workshop a director's been talking to me about.

That'll learn me to sit around feeling bad about myself.

I've also been doing a bunch of financial budgeting stuff with J, and most helpful has been Gail Vaz-Oxlade's book Debt-Free Forever. You Canadian folks might know her as the host of "Till Debt Do Us Part", which I used to watch to feel better and realize "At least I'm not one of those people", but now I watch and realize "Yikes, I might one day be those people if I don't do something about this".

I was investigating various part-time job options, mostly crappy and early in the morning. But lo and behold, today the game company that I've done freelance stuff for in the past contacted me to inquire about my availability for more projects. All of which can be done working from home at whatever weird hour I want. And which pays quite generously. Second job, BAM! Done! No worries about that until at least January, now. Not to mention that this weekend will be spent doing high-paying (yet exhausting) medical improv--that thing where you pretend you're a sick person for medical students? 12 hours a day, Saturday and Sunday.

Perhaps we won't have to have a totally Imagination Christmas after all.

Shit is getting done, my friends. I am making it happen.

I'm Still Here.. I'm Still Real...

Anyone see that movie? Anyone? Anyone?

Bueller?

Anyhoo. I am still here. I have been busy just doing work stuff and not enough creative stuff as of late, and trying to get my ass in gear to (a) send some submissions, and (b) start something new. Oh, and (c) do some rewrites on an old project and (d) get in touch with my legit soprano side.

Now as far as (d) goes, I'm well aware that I am in no way a legit soprano. But my assignment is to find some songs that are high end-y (in the vocal sense, not the classy sense)to work on ye olde head voice. Fun!

Did I mention we are pretty much broke? It's going to a purse-tightening-budget-making-penny-rolling autumn, y'all. FUN!

But I think I might have to get a second job, temporarily at least. Or come up with some extra money through little gigs, which I often seem to do, but now that I'm depending on it I fear will dry up and no one will ever offer me a creative paycheque again. But perhaps I just need to pound the pavement harder. I need to get those little paycheques on a more regular basis.

In the accomplishment front, I'm FINALLY down another few pounds. Heading for the 160's by the end of the month. I may even start the new year pretty close to goal. Like, within 15 pounds. Which I can't quite fathom.

Gotta get back to writing query letters, friends.

Oops!

So I'm back--we had a lovely trip to a lovely wedding in an adorable small town in Ontario. One of those one-street towns where everything shuts down at 6, and they have wifi, but mysteriously no cell phone service.

I am at work again tomorrow, after taking a few days off this past week--supposedly to go schmooze at the fringe, but in reality I spent every day going to the gym, coming home, and watching Season 3 of Mad Men again.

I also somehow fell into smoking a little bit again, so now I'm trying to nip that in the bud. Unfortunately not so far in the bud that I'm not experiencing the terrible mood swings of nicotine withdrawal, but I just have to ride that out for the next couple of days and I'll be golden. But it's resulted in kind of a bummy day for me--I'm realizing that I feel a little trapped in my job, a little dissatisfied with my general career progress. But I think I'm just one of those people who has to learn to be satisfied with now, and quit thinking Next!

I have some rewrites to do. Some ideas for new plays that I should just get written before I wreck 'em by holding on to them for too long.

But for tonight I'm just going to enjoy the last 12 hours of my holidays before the fun fun fun of work starts again.

It has arrived!

FINALLY. It looks cute. I think. I have our hotels booked for both cities, will hopefully remember to select my seats for our flight, and Thursday morning we'll be off to Ontario!

I feel woefully unprepared to travel. Tomorrow I have to go buy new makeup, because for some reason all my makeup either broke or got used up at the same time. Of course, buying all new stuff tomorrow will ensure that the same thing happens again a few months down the road.

And so the cycle continues.

UPS: Use Purolator, Stupid.

Arrrrgh I ordered a dress to wear to my brother's wedding next weekend. Actually, I ordered it in teal, not black as shown. But anyway, it's cute, right? Although the ruffles can be a bit of a risk, I've seen pictures of said dress on actual women, and I think it's going to be good.

Except it's not here yet. My dress has been to Kentucky, Sioux Falls, and finally Calgary. At least it's in the right country now. But we are flying out on Thursday morning, which doesn't give me a lot of time to (a) GET the dress, and (b) find a suitable replacement if the dress looks awful.

Which it won't. I hope. This is causing me great anxiety at the moment. Also that I don't really have it in my budget to buy a replacement dress at this point.

Please cross your fingers for me that the dress shows up on Monday. And that it looks great.

Please?

Accursed sugars!

So this week, I had a follow-up visit to my friendly neighbourhood dietician. The results? After 2 months of faithfully following her suggestions and consulting with my Canada's Food Guide-- nothing. Not one single pound gone. Actually, I gained a pound since my last weigh-in with her.

Which I guess was not what she was expecting. In fact, she seemed quite puzzled. And I wrote down everything. Like the occasional twizzler at work everything. And she still said I eat better than the vast majority of clients she sees.

After thinking for a minute, she said "Let's try something different."

Something different turns out to be a diabetic diet. Like, with exchanges and stuff. To somehow restrict the delicious carbs and balance them with protein and see if that works. Which seems a little more involved than my former "eat a balanced 1300-1500 calories a day" plan. Like planning x number of carbs with x number of proteins.

Which is fine(ish), and I've planned this week already-- though it involves me eating pretty much the same things every day for all meals and snacks except dinner. Which will still be fine(ish) except I'm going to be traveling to a wedding and will be having unpredictable on the road food... oops. I suppose I'll have to resist the temptation to be "on vacation and thus eating french fries all day".

I'm not too sure what happens if this doesn't work-- here's hoping it does. I was going to head back to ye olde doctor in September if, after 6 months of eating well and exercising, there is still no weight-loss action.

Then again, if it does work, am I stuck eating the same 2 meals and 2 snacks forever? With only the same 5 dinners for variety?

Here's hoping it works anyway.

Still Trucking...

Or should that be "Truckin'?"

Things are very much the same here-- still rainy, still being overrun by vicious mosquitoes. Still going to the gym, still eating healthy, still very few results to show for it, at least scale-wise.

Still, I persevere.

I have some very vague ideas for a new play, which caused me to go on a spree of requesting books at the library, never thinking that they would of course all come in at once, which they have. That's one of my favourite parts of the process-- research, not lugging 50 lbs of books home from the library. And not even specific research, just the reading about things because I am interested in them and may become inspired. So much more interesting than, say, the reformatting of a script I have to do and have been putting off. Or organizing my mailouts for script submissions now that the postal strike is over AND I have some cash to get a shit-ton of scripts printed.

And of course, I want to take on an entirely new project, which has to do with reading. I have always wanted to read all the books on one of those 100 Greatest Novels list, because although being the child of two English Lit PhD's has made me fairly well-read, I always feel like I should read more.

And I think I'm going to try the Time Magazine's 100 Greatest Novels list, at least partially because the list starts in 1923 (the year Time Magazine started), thus neatly allowing me to avoid 1922's Ulysses. It also had a pretty good selection of books from across the 20th century, and most importantly, books I am interested in reading.

I'm starting with Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections, just as soon as I can back my truck up to the library.

Side note: I actually witnessed an audience member answer their cell phone at a play I was at on the weekend. I thought people only did that in hilarious anecdotes in which a Broadway star berates said audience member publicly.

The ringing (set to one of those retro-actual-phone-ringtones) took place at an unfortunate moment-- Emilia was just tucking Desdemona into bed (where we all know she is about to be--spoiler alert!-- imminently strangled by Othello), and there was a nice quiet moment. The ringing started immediately before her exit, which momentarily led me to think "She's on her way to answer the phone?".

It was someone a couple of rows behind me. He pulled out his phone, answered it, and "whispered":

HOLLISTER-SHIRTED DUMMY ON HIS IPHONE: I can't talk now. I'll call you back later. OK? Ok. OK. Bye.

Lame.

So if you're not going to turn off your cell phone because you're I don't know, a brain surgeon or an army colonel, or a head of state, or Mr. Hollister behind me, please, please, please do not answer your phone. It is rude. It makes you look stupid. And no one believes you're that important, anyway.

Seriously.

Not that I'm one to rejoice in the misfortunes of others...

But Mr. Movie director who let me go because I wasn't available on the days he didn't need me?

It kind of seems like his project isn't going well.

Nor am I the kind of person to creep on people's facebook pages and learn the types of things that I'm not rejoicing about.

Well, rejoicing is a little strong. Maybe a slight smirk.

Just a slight one.

A Rejection Letter Made My Day...

Strange but true.

Today I got my official rejection letter from the Big Time Theatre, and I have to say it was one of the nicest rejection letters I've ever gotten. Along with the usual "We saw so many people and it was a tough decision blah blah blah", there was an actual note from the director and the AD at the bottom telling me they thought I did really great work, specifically one of my monologues. And they thought I was funny and terrific and good, and that not getting cast had absolutely nothing to do with my audition.

Nice, right? Usually I banish rejections to their appropriate project folder in my email, but I actually read this one a few times over the course of the morning, because I am eight and compliments make me giddy.

Who knows, maybe they'll think of me when casting time rolls around again. And it was so nice to hear that I am not completely delusional, that I am right to keep pursuing this. Because I'm good at it.

A pulled shoulder muscle is keeping me away from the gym today, although it makes me feel lazy. Hopefully the bugs won't be so bad/torrential rains will hold off and I can take a walk later.

Happy Monday, friends!

Mission Accomplished!

OK, maybe not the entire mission. But my goal of going to the gym 3 times this week is achieved!
Hmmm, writing it out like that doesn't make it sound very impressive. Certainly not as impressive as my ability to start making excuses NOT to go to the gym the moment I get up. But I have to say, I'm a little bit impressed with myself.

Next week, I'm planning to go FOUR times. Excuses be gone!

It's pouring rain here. It was pouring rain yesterday. It was pouring rain last week. It's going to pour rain next week. My shoes have finally given up the ghost (I suppose there's only so much water exposure you can expect $15 shoes to take). Our basement is continually leaking. And even in the downpour on my way to work this morning (dressed in my miles-too-big purple windbreaker that makes me look like Grimace, but is the only waterproof thing I own with a hood), I noticed that there were STILL mosquitos flying around. How is this possible?

So it hasn't been the summeriest of summers so far. And grown-up life is sort of getting me down lately, what with its expectations that I actually pay my bills and show up to work every day (for example, on a Saturday). As my mother would say, all I need to do is write a bestselling book, and my problems would be solved.

She's serious, by the way. That's ALL I NEED TO DO. Of course, now that Oprah's off the air, it might take a little longer to become fabulously wealthy from my writing, say three or four months instead of one.

Sigh. I guess I could always write it this weekend.