Grindstone

When I was 16, I swore to myself that I would never be like my dad. Not because my dad isn't an amazing person—amazing being a gross understatement—, but after seeing him come home exhausted after putting in 8-10 hours for crummy bosses—with an hour commute on top of it—I swore that I would never do that. I would only work that hard if it was for something that I loved.

During the past few months, I have been dealing with a temp job in an office, a part-time job at a movie theater, and the occasional PA gig on top of both. It was a regular occurrence for me to work two weeks with only one day off, and it was not unheard of for me to work twenty days straight before that day off would come. About a week or two back, while driving home at 2 AM after an eight-hour shift at the theater, exhausted from having worked eleven days straight—with two more to go before I got that solitary day off—, I realized that I had put my nose to the grindstone I had always sought to avoid. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't mind working hard, or putting in 60+ hours a week, but I feel like I've been chasing dollar signs instead of what I had moved to LA hoping to accomplish.

I am in love with creation. I love coming up with new universes, characters to explore them with, and watching as people experience the world I created. All I have to show for the past year is a third draft of a TV pilot, scripts for a few shorts, and a growing number of script breakdowns and outlines. While some might consider this acceptable, I consider it an abysmal level of output. I miss the days of film school where I would often have a script, a short film, and an essay all due in the same week. It was hard work, but I loved it. All the crazy hours of work and all the videogames played can't hide the fact that right now I'm intellectually starved and creatively stifled. Things need to change.

I can't say for certain what this blog will end up becoming. I will probably talk about film, television, politics, technology—really whatever thoughts I have that I can write a few hundred words about. I can't promise any regularity; I'm still figuring out the finer details. Right now, this blog serves a singular purpose: Get me to write more.