C.E. Whitaker III's Blog: Musings from mrwhitaker3

An Ode To My Number One

How many times can you tell a person that you love them?

Well… in the case of my mother, Deboran, the number is incalculable. My emotions are conflicted primarily because I don’t know where exactly to channel my sadness. From the moment I left for California, this wonderful woman has been with me through every step of the way. And now in a few weeks, months or years [we can only hope], I will no longer hear her voice. This is something I am simply not ready to admit.

I am no different than billions of other creatures who have mourned the loss of their loved ones. I can admit that my feelings are selfish. I wanted my mother to experience any success that I was fortunate enough to have in the future. Premieres, red carpets, visiting me on sets, seeing my work on the silver screen or a high-def television; you name it, I wanted it for her.

All I have ever wanted in this life was to make her [and my father] proud of me. That is literally still all I want to do. One of the reasons I have worked so hard to put the Red Rover books out into the world is because I wanted her to experience this journey with me. I couldn’t keep putting things off for tomorrow, because tomorrow is not promised.

That’s why I quit my [good] job. At some point I was going to have to risk everything, unless my preference was to expect nothing. She always lauded me for my passion and desire to achieve my goals. She always supported me through my failures. I know that nobody’s perfect, but pound for pound, I truly believe that she is one of the finest human beings I have ever known. I am a better person for having been in her company.

Selfless. Humble. Hard-working. Frugal. Funny. Loving. Compassionate. Kind.

Those words are just the tip of the iceberg that I could use to describe who she is/was. The type of person who would always lend a helping hand, even though she could have easily looked the other way. The way I carry myself in professional settings has had many of folks ask me about my mom. They knew I couldn’t have become the way I am by accident. She just had to have done something.

They were right. She did. She was a teacher without being an academic. She led by example. She loved her children. She loved her family. She loved Jehovah. She loved life and the people who lived in it. Even the wicked among us. She still prayed for them.

This is the third loss I will have experienced within the last six-years. My professional mentor first, my best friend second and now my mother will make three. I realize this is simply a fact of life. I despise it. And some days it makes it hard to go on. But I will go on. My memory holds strong and I keep them close always. I am not an island unto himself. I am here only through the grace of others.

I return to New York next week to spend every waking moment I can with her as we figure out what to do next. I know the end is nigh and I also know that I don’t want to say goodbye. She is such a great lady. I wish there were more out there like her. I really do. The world will be a worse place with her not in it.

I’ll always love my momma. She’s my favorite girl. You only get one.

Love,
Fella

The fear of rejection

Okay, so if you have read my bio, you probably know that I am a filmmaker. I have worked in the entertainment industry for many years now and getting told no is like breathing air at this point.

However, it's not because I don't know how to write. There are a myriad of reasons why entertainment professionals pass on material. Most of them have to do with cost/time analysis.

Breaking in new talent is an exhaustive, expensive endeavor that may not go anywhere because other folks don't agree with your assessment of the talent or the material.

I worked in talent management alongside a legendary manager running her business, where I saw this first hand. Even with A-list clients, the business was still very hard.

Which brings me to releasing my book after 10 years of marinating with this story, while I worked on other projects.

Anyway, honest reviews make me nervous. But not because I don't believe in them.

The rule of thumb in Hollywood is that people are afraid to say what they really think of your work for fear of you succeeding and you deciding never to work with them again; which is why they only trash projects in private for the most part.

We all know that art is subjective and your taste is an individual thing. Nothing you can do about that.

With an honest review from a seasoned critic, indie or major, they more than likely have legit reasons for why they don't enjoy a book. The reasons can be creative, technical or ethereal. The point is, they didn't like it and there's nothing you can do.

I welcome all criticism, good, bad and the ugly, but when I get my first "this book sucks" review, I am sure I will be very sad for a few hours because I surely did not set out to agonize the reader.

I want people to love my work just as much as I loved creating it, but alas, you can't control how people feel and think (for the most part). And to that I say, thank goodness for that.

So if you dislike my work, please let me know. I'll be butthurt for a day or so, but I'll get over it and get back to writing.

"You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can't… please all the people all of the time.” - Abraham Lincoln