This space intentionally left blank

Like my mind.

Still experiencing summer dullness. Still having trouble thinking of what to say. All I want to do is be lazy. But I have to write a blog entry and a skit, in roughly that order.

And I feel very duh.

Today, I had Dialogue class. We had a lot of fun shooting video of some very short dialogues we wrote in the last hour of last week’s class. It was amusing and in a way heartwarming to see how many of my fellow writing students did not want to act in front of the camera at all. Even though none of it would go online. We’re an introverted bunch, and many people said something alone the lines of “I want to be behind the camera, that’s why I’m a writer!”.

Being the mental mutant that I am, I didn’t mind at all, because I am both a shy introvert and a total ham. I have never had stage fright, I have no problem with public speaking, and I have never had a problem with being the center of attention.

In fact, under the right circumstances, I love it.

And I think I know why : because it’s never gone badly for me. The first time I did anything like that was when I gave a speech in front of a bunch of adults when I was a Beaver Scout (about what, I have no idea) and I got thunderous applause for it. Ever since then, every time I have acted or done any sort of public speaking, it’s gone at least okay and often very well. As a result, I am relaxed when I do it, and that leads to good performances.

A rare example of a positive feedback loop in my life.

I am pretty sure I have a natural knack for it. Especially comedy. And like I have said many times before, I also relax on stage because life is very simple and easy when I perform. It banishes all my paranoia about whether I am doing the right thing caused by my constant awareness of all the things I might be doing, and replaces it with the super simplified reality of knowing exactly what you are supposed to be doing at that moment : delivering your lines.

For someone who lives awash in possibilities and doubt like I do, that’s a very welcome island of stability.

I have the skills to be an actor… but not the looks. Guys who look like me get to stay behind the camera. Even if I was my ideal weight, I would still have highly limited castability. Best I could hope for would be to play some heavies (so to speak) in B-movies. Nobody in the world of A-list Hollywood writes roles for big dudes like me. There’s the rare funny fat guy who makes it to the top, but there’s only a few slots available at any time, so competition is fierce.

More importantly, I lack motivation. Acting is fun but it’s not a career path I would enjoy. There is a lot of superficiality and bullshit involved in trying to be a movie star or whatever. And I could never be content as someone who interprets the words of others. I have to be at the top of the creative food chain and that’s the writer. The entertainment world treats us like we’re the least important people because we tend to lack assertiveness and because there’s more non-writers in the process than writers, and our job involves very little that is visible so it’s easy for shallow minded people to convince themselves that it must not be very important.

But without us, there’s nothing. We are the ones who create movies and TV shows out of nothing at all. Everyone else in the process is working of what we wrote. Not a single cog in the entertainment machine could turn without what we make.

I would make a very good writer’s union president. Lemme at’m!

I realized today in class that, all else being equal, I tend to try to turn everything into comedy. It’s what I am good at and what I enjoy. I love to laugh and I love to make people laugh. And making comedy is like, the most fun thing ever. I have written a lot of things that were not comedic and a few things that are incredibly tragic. To the point of me crying the whole time I was writing. [1]

But put me in front of an audience, even if it’s just classmates and a teacher, and I wanna make them laugh.

Which is maybe me problem, or one of them anyhow. I try too hard. And I try to be like a fictional character, funny and fun and lovable and whatnot, instead of just being myself. I suppose it’s my substitute for social skills and the deep socialization that leads to them. If I could just permit myself to relax and be (gasp!) normal for a minute or two, I might find the connection I crave.

Instead, I tend to follow a kind of dream in my mind, wherein I imagine what I want to be and try to project that. I am always trying to cram as much of all I need to express into every moment. Perhaps this is because of my enormous feelings of being ignored and unimportant and the resulting deep need for attention. When I get the attention, I go nuts and lunge for the opportunity with all the care and restraint of a starving dog pouncing on a steak.

If I could just calm the fuck down inside and take things as they come instead of having this cacophony of neurosis going full speed all the time, maybe I could get along with people better.

Or maybe what I really need is more situations where I feel like I am in control and can find my own way of doing it.

Maybe I need to be in charge.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

Footnotes    (↵ returns to text)

  1. There’s a scene like that in Little Women, isn’t there?