A Long Overdue Update
It has been approximately a year since my last update, which is far too long, and I hope to keep up with my blog quite a bit more now.
I'm thinking to myself where I last left off on my journey as far as everything is concerned, and it was right before summer in 2016. MANY notable things have happened since then, and I will start with my going to NYC for two months.
Earlier in 2016, when I went to the Stoker Con, one of the recommendations by Daniel Knauf was that, in order to create good dialogue, one should take an acting course. Acting was always something I had wanted to try out, but never had, and what he gave me was a perfectly legitimate excuse to try it out. So, for a month, I took acting classes at the REACT studio in Dallas, TX. What I learned while there was the Meisner method of acting, and what I ended up discovering was that I absolutely love the Meisner method of creation. I read the book The Actor's Art and Craft by William Esper and fell in love with it. I then began wondering if it would be possible to find a school that was focused on the Meisner method and dealt with it more in-depth. Enter The William Esper Studio in NYC, which had a six week intensive summer course. (Notice that the name of the studio is also the name of the author who wrote The Actor's Art and Craft).
I thought to myself that there was no way they were going to let me into their six week intensive summer course because I had little to no acting experience. Nevertheless, I applied, was interviewed by Laith Nakli via Skype, and the day that I was supposed to hear back, I ultimately called to find out Laith's decision. He basically said, "I'm willing to give you a shot, if you can be here tomorrow." So, I immediately purchased an airline ticket, and the next day I flew from Dallas to NYC to start what can only be described as one of the most amazing and terrifying experiences of my entire life.
I ended up taking four different courses - Acting (with David Newer), Alexander, Movement, and Acting on Camera. Several people in my classes were on Broadway, and so I was not in some little acting class in Dallas, TX. This was a whole other level, and it was quite obvious I was leagues behind other people. That is not to say, though, that I did not improve. I did, and I impressed myself, and I also, I think, possibly impressed others with my improvement.
So, for six weeks, I worked approximately 17 hours in class (and maybe ten or more hours outside of class) per week, and I was challenged and challenged and challenged again. I ended up making several friends, including one person who is in the current Broadway musical Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812 with Josh Groban, which, I just found out yesterday, was just nominated for 12 Tony Awards (more than any other show this season). This particular person, who I won't name, was super supportive of me during my time there, especially of my writing, and she recently said I was her inspiration for writing. So, that feels damn good.
I stayed in Queens, and I have plenty of stories from my time in New York, including the time on the subway when a guy dropped acid right beside me before his next stop. In any case, though I don't think acting is ultimately for me (I mean, not as a means of financial support), I cannot describe to you the amazing experience it was to take classes in NYC, right next to Times Square with lovely, lovely creative people.
The thing that I took away the most was that, after sitting in class for three hours, three times a week, in sessions that are supposed to frustrate you to a hysterical moment in which you either scream or cry, that when you walk back into Times Square, it becomes obvious to you how tightly wrapped people are/all of society is. You look around, and no one is screaming or crying AT ALL. And you think to yourself, "Why not? It's such a release, and hell. We do it in class for three hours, three times a week, and we survive. It's perfectly fine. It's perfectly normal." It is kind of... surreal, the realization that we are not our human selves, and that to return to the human self requires hours upon hours of practice. You also begin to realize just how often we do not allow ourselves to simply react to the stimuli around us - that we have, through the process of civilization, tampered with our ability to react to a situation. I remember reading an article during my time in NYC about a man who was in jail for being drunk and disorderly, and in the process of manhandling him, those in the jail had actually broken his spine. He lay on the floor, telling everyone he couldn't move his legs, and nobody reacted to it. They didn't believe him. Even doctors who came in didn't believe him. FOR DAYS. They came in, made notes, and left. He ended up dying due to an infection caused by the break in his spine after four or more days of not being able to eat. As I read this article, I could hear David yelling in my head, "There's a man LYING on the floor, PARALYZED! REACT!!!!!!" We are so civilized that we are not even human anymore. It becomes obvious very quickly why people don't react to a traumatic event happening. It isn't just a bystander effect. We have been trained out of reacting to many, many things.
After my time in NYC, I ended up going to Austin and stayed there, working at a bank, actually (I thought it might give me more time to write), for about two months. I very quickly realized that I like teaching at a community college far more, and I left that bank and returned to the Dallas area.
I should say that, in between going to NYC, and going to Austin, I applied to an MFA program. What going to the William Esper Studio taught me was not to be afraid to go after what I want, and I have wanted an MFA for a long time. So, I applied to a multitude of them, and USM Stonecoast accepted me before even all of my Letters of Recommendation were in. They wanted me, and so I accepted their acceptance. The first residency was in January, and so, after I left my job in Austin, I went to Maine for two weeks for that first residency. I have to say that I enjoyed the workshops and found them tremendously helpful as far as breaking down walls in my writing to build them up again with something new, though I certainly wouldn't want to workshop every week. Thus, the low residency option was right for me, and I'm glad I chose a low res school.
It was a lovely time, and I won't ever say that it wasn't, but my memory of the residency is tinged by the fact that, one day after I returned from Maine, my father passed away unexpectedly. He was in the hospital, being treated for a DVT that had developed in his arm due to a PIC line they had put in in order to give him antibiotics to kill/fight the MRSA in one of his wounds (on his foot). That ended up causing a blood clot to form, and they were in the process of breaking it down with drugs. The blood clot ultimately traveled to either his brain or lungs, and it was completely unexpected. The day he died, he was actually supposed to go home. I had seen him in the hospital the night before and spoke to him briefly. I wish I had stayed the whole night. I did not, however, and at eight in the morning the next day, my mom (after trying and trying to reach me, as my phone was on silent) finally got ahold of me and told me he had passed away about two hours previously.
I am still shocked by this. I don't think I will ever not be shocked by this. My father was sick for the majority of my life, from his heart attack to his stroke to his amputation to his pneumonia to his ulcers, and a lot of my time and my mom's time was devoted to taking care of him. I took him to approximately 300 appointments over the course of six years, and I spent a lot of time with him. When you fight against disease that long with someone, and you help them for so long, it is an utter shock for them to die. There are moments where I just stop and think to myself, "I don't know what reality I am in, anymore."
Though he was not perfect (none of us are), I love him and miss him so much. That's where I will leave that.
As far as Pivot goes, I am continuing to work on the book. It is now being split into two novels, and I just finished a draft on what is now the first novel (adding 91 pages). I have sent it to the lawyer and entertainment manager I am working with, as well as my agent. The lawyer has read it and said that, though he didn't think my book could get better, it is better. Everything felt right to him. I am still waiting on my agent's response.
Though the wait is long, and the work is hard, it is amazing to me to see the different ways the book evolves. It is also amazing to me that my agent can pinpoint things so well that I cannot see. His recommendations are sometimes general, but when I revise according to them, then I end up creating a book that is even better than I could have realized it could be. He is amazing, and I am so glad to have his advice.
Right now, I am finishing up teaching two classes for the semester, taking a PhD course over Classical Rhetoric, and still doing my MFA. And, of course, I just went to Stoker Con. I am feeling a little exhausted. I am not so sure that I will continue taking a PhD course each semester, (not while doing the MFA), and so the Stonecoast program may be it for a little while. We shall see.
I hope you guys are doing well. Thanks for keeping up with me.
I'm thinking to myself where I last left off on my journey as far as everything is concerned, and it was right before summer in 2016. MANY notable things have happened since then, and I will start with my going to NYC for two months.
Earlier in 2016, when I went to the Stoker Con, one of the recommendations by Daniel Knauf was that, in order to create good dialogue, one should take an acting course. Acting was always something I had wanted to try out, but never had, and what he gave me was a perfectly legitimate excuse to try it out. So, for a month, I took acting classes at the REACT studio in Dallas, TX. What I learned while there was the Meisner method of acting, and what I ended up discovering was that I absolutely love the Meisner method of creation. I read the book The Actor's Art and Craft by William Esper and fell in love with it. I then began wondering if it would be possible to find a school that was focused on the Meisner method and dealt with it more in-depth. Enter The William Esper Studio in NYC, which had a six week intensive summer course. (Notice that the name of the studio is also the name of the author who wrote The Actor's Art and Craft).
I thought to myself that there was no way they were going to let me into their six week intensive summer course because I had little to no acting experience. Nevertheless, I applied, was interviewed by Laith Nakli via Skype, and the day that I was supposed to hear back, I ultimately called to find out Laith's decision. He basically said, "I'm willing to give you a shot, if you can be here tomorrow." So, I immediately purchased an airline ticket, and the next day I flew from Dallas to NYC to start what can only be described as one of the most amazing and terrifying experiences of my entire life.
I ended up taking four different courses - Acting (with David Newer), Alexander, Movement, and Acting on Camera. Several people in my classes were on Broadway, and so I was not in some little acting class in Dallas, TX. This was a whole other level, and it was quite obvious I was leagues behind other people. That is not to say, though, that I did not improve. I did, and I impressed myself, and I also, I think, possibly impressed others with my improvement.
So, for six weeks, I worked approximately 17 hours in class (and maybe ten or more hours outside of class) per week, and I was challenged and challenged and challenged again. I ended up making several friends, including one person who is in the current Broadway musical Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812 with Josh Groban, which, I just found out yesterday, was just nominated for 12 Tony Awards (more than any other show this season). This particular person, who I won't name, was super supportive of me during my time there, especially of my writing, and she recently said I was her inspiration for writing. So, that feels damn good.
I stayed in Queens, and I have plenty of stories from my time in New York, including the time on the subway when a guy dropped acid right beside me before his next stop. In any case, though I don't think acting is ultimately for me (I mean, not as a means of financial support), I cannot describe to you the amazing experience it was to take classes in NYC, right next to Times Square with lovely, lovely creative people.
The thing that I took away the most was that, after sitting in class for three hours, three times a week, in sessions that are supposed to frustrate you to a hysterical moment in which you either scream or cry, that when you walk back into Times Square, it becomes obvious to you how tightly wrapped people are/all of society is. You look around, and no one is screaming or crying AT ALL. And you think to yourself, "Why not? It's such a release, and hell. We do it in class for three hours, three times a week, and we survive. It's perfectly fine. It's perfectly normal." It is kind of... surreal, the realization that we are not our human selves, and that to return to the human self requires hours upon hours of practice. You also begin to realize just how often we do not allow ourselves to simply react to the stimuli around us - that we have, through the process of civilization, tampered with our ability to react to a situation. I remember reading an article during my time in NYC about a man who was in jail for being drunk and disorderly, and in the process of manhandling him, those in the jail had actually broken his spine. He lay on the floor, telling everyone he couldn't move his legs, and nobody reacted to it. They didn't believe him. Even doctors who came in didn't believe him. FOR DAYS. They came in, made notes, and left. He ended up dying due to an infection caused by the break in his spine after four or more days of not being able to eat. As I read this article, I could hear David yelling in my head, "There's a man LYING on the floor, PARALYZED! REACT!!!!!!" We are so civilized that we are not even human anymore. It becomes obvious very quickly why people don't react to a traumatic event happening. It isn't just a bystander effect. We have been trained out of reacting to many, many things.
After my time in NYC, I ended up going to Austin and stayed there, working at a bank, actually (I thought it might give me more time to write), for about two months. I very quickly realized that I like teaching at a community college far more, and I left that bank and returned to the Dallas area.
I should say that, in between going to NYC, and going to Austin, I applied to an MFA program. What going to the William Esper Studio taught me was not to be afraid to go after what I want, and I have wanted an MFA for a long time. So, I applied to a multitude of them, and USM Stonecoast accepted me before even all of my Letters of Recommendation were in. They wanted me, and so I accepted their acceptance. The first residency was in January, and so, after I left my job in Austin, I went to Maine for two weeks for that first residency. I have to say that I enjoyed the workshops and found them tremendously helpful as far as breaking down walls in my writing to build them up again with something new, though I certainly wouldn't want to workshop every week. Thus, the low residency option was right for me, and I'm glad I chose a low res school.
It was a lovely time, and I won't ever say that it wasn't, but my memory of the residency is tinged by the fact that, one day after I returned from Maine, my father passed away unexpectedly. He was in the hospital, being treated for a DVT that had developed in his arm due to a PIC line they had put in in order to give him antibiotics to kill/fight the MRSA in one of his wounds (on his foot). That ended up causing a blood clot to form, and they were in the process of breaking it down with drugs. The blood clot ultimately traveled to either his brain or lungs, and it was completely unexpected. The day he died, he was actually supposed to go home. I had seen him in the hospital the night before and spoke to him briefly. I wish I had stayed the whole night. I did not, however, and at eight in the morning the next day, my mom (after trying and trying to reach me, as my phone was on silent) finally got ahold of me and told me he had passed away about two hours previously.
I am still shocked by this. I don't think I will ever not be shocked by this. My father was sick for the majority of my life, from his heart attack to his stroke to his amputation to his pneumonia to his ulcers, and a lot of my time and my mom's time was devoted to taking care of him. I took him to approximately 300 appointments over the course of six years, and I spent a lot of time with him. When you fight against disease that long with someone, and you help them for so long, it is an utter shock for them to die. There are moments where I just stop and think to myself, "I don't know what reality I am in, anymore."
Though he was not perfect (none of us are), I love him and miss him so much. That's where I will leave that.
As far as Pivot goes, I am continuing to work on the book. It is now being split into two novels, and I just finished a draft on what is now the first novel (adding 91 pages). I have sent it to the lawyer and entertainment manager I am working with, as well as my agent. The lawyer has read it and said that, though he didn't think my book could get better, it is better. Everything felt right to him. I am still waiting on my agent's response.
Though the wait is long, and the work is hard, it is amazing to me to see the different ways the book evolves. It is also amazing to me that my agent can pinpoint things so well that I cannot see. His recommendations are sometimes general, but when I revise according to them, then I end up creating a book that is even better than I could have realized it could be. He is amazing, and I am so glad to have his advice.
Right now, I am finishing up teaching two classes for the semester, taking a PhD course over Classical Rhetoric, and still doing my MFA. And, of course, I just went to Stoker Con. I am feeling a little exhausted. I am not so sure that I will continue taking a PhD course each semester, (not while doing the MFA), and so the Stonecoast program may be it for a little while. We shall see.
I hope you guys are doing well. Thanks for keeping up with me.
date
newest »
newest »
Vincent wrote: "I only thought that I was busy!First of all, I am truly sorry to hear about your father. I'm also very close with my father and can only imagine the pain of that experience.
Pivot was great to b..."
Thank you so much, Vincent. It's great to hear that you are also close with your father. My father and I, though we didn't agree on a lot of things, had a lot of great times together. So, yes, it's tough.
It means a lot to me that you're rooting me on! The process is so long, and it's hard to wait, but I remind myself that I have a damn good agent and that this whole thing has taught me how to write things I didn't know I was capable of writing. And, again, if need be, I can always self-publish if this doesn't work out!
Thanks for keeping up with me!
First of all, I am truly sorry to hear about your father. I'm also very close with my father and can only imagine the pain of that experience.
Pivot was great to begin with so I'm looking forward to the revisions and continuation of the story. Good luck on all your studies and know that you do have fans out here rooting for you.