My Summer Break

I roll out of bed in my parents' house an hour earlier than usual for our special morning excursion - blueberry picking!

At 7am, it's already 75 degrees outside, with temperatures expected to climb to the low 90s.  My mother hands me a pair of thick wool socks. "My boots are too big for you, so these will help keep your feet from slipping around." Wool and hot weather don't mix, but I put them on obediently. She's the expert here, having been to this orchard many times during blueberry season. 

I don the rest of my pre-determined uniform - long pants, long sleeve windbreaker, and baseball cap. I look ridiculous, but my mind remains focused on the beautiful task ahead.

A ten-minute drive and a five-minute ride in a tractor-pulled wagon later, I'm picking ripe, fresh blueberries while standing in a row of bushy plants. Heavy rain the day before has washed the earth clean and the berries look gorgeous. "Whatever you eat now is profit," my dad says with a chuckle, popping a fresh blueberry into his mouth.

For the next few hours, we each have our own blueberry picking energy. My dad is focused, my mom is determined, and I am... relaxed. This is what vacation looks like - nothing to do but breath fresh air, pick blueberries, and slow down.

 

I needed this vacation.

Everyone needs a vacation, of course. My overworked sister getting her MBA while still seeing patients full-time as a plastic surgeon, my brother and his wife, the DC power attorneys who are fixing up their place to sell while looking for a new one - they deserve vacations more than anyone I know.

But I decided to take one too. Because after writing a spec script in 11 days to submit to the writing fellowships, a realization hit me --

As a writer attempting to break into the competitive world of television writing, I spend every moment of my life in stress, anxiety, and fear.

There is no down time, no end of my work day when I leave my writing behind. The expectations are always there so the work is always there. My thoughts are constant and get tangled into each other like a thicket. 

Here's a typical ten second window into my mind --

"This story isn't working and I have no idea how to fix it. Is it even any good? Maybe it is too much like that other show and I should throw it away and start over. Why didn't that showrunner hire me? What could I have done to sell myself better in that meeting? I need to be writing more. I need a bigger portfolio. I need to finish my book. Maybe I'll never be good enough to break in. That means I just wasted the last 8 years of my life. I should have gone on more dates in my 20s instead of focusing on my career. I would probably be married with a kid by now. Is it too late for me? Will I ever get a job? Will I ever be good enough? Why, God, WHY?!?!"

I know I'm not alone in this - all writers have these thoughts. They come with the territory when you're an artist. But these thoughts have been running on a nonstop loop in my mind for the last eight years. Eight years of self-doubt, self-flagellation, and self-judgment.

Time for a break.

I've been pretty good with my 2016 write-every-day #365project up until now, only missing a day or two here and there. But for the month of June, I decided to take a rest. I haven't been writing every day and I haven't opened Final Draft once. I'm letting ideas swirl and just be without immediately trying to force them into story. I'm having long overdue coffee dates with people, watching television shows I've been missing, and - gasp - reading a book. I'm allowing myself to relax and it's been heaven.

My writing doesn't need me this month. My writing needs new perspectives that are not going to emerge while I'm feeling so exhausted and spent. My writing needs me to take a break and recharge so I can jump back into my work excited and renewed. My writing needs this vacation too.

Creative Kindling at Work

I did not want to write tonight.

My first day back after being sick for two days was jam packed. By the time I wrapped up work at 8pm, all I wanted to do was go home and eat cookies.

But I have a script to finish and no cookies in the house, so I procrastinated with email and social media, i.e. - I feared, feared, feared for another hour before forcing myself to open my notebook and start writing.

Once I did that, this is all the creative kindling it took to get me into the groove:

Proof that A) creative kindling really works, and B) I am a ridiculous individual for stalling for an HOUR before starting to work. Just ridiculous.

Hopefully I can take this lesson into tomorrow. We'll see...

Damn You, Fear

I didn't write enough over the holiday break. If you asked, I could produce an epic list of excuses - I was spending time with family, working on scripts for my writers' assistant job, cleaning out my inbox, staring at a fascinating, engrossing spot on the wall...

But I know my writer procrastination all comes down to fear. Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat Pray Love, said it too:

Ain't it the truth. My fear in my writing relates to my life-long struggle with not feeling good enough - a struggle I know I've completely made up in my head. It translates to my writing with a feeling that I suck, I suck, I suck and I can't even face how bad my script is. Even in times when I don't think it's there, I'll often realize that it's always there.

There's a writer's mantra I've heard - ass in the chair. As in, "No excuses. Just sit down and write. Now."

I think it's time for my own writer's mantra - an affirmation that addresses the real reason I don't write enough - fear.

When I searched the Web for "mantra against fear," I discovered something called the Litany Against Fear. Apparently Frank Herbert used it in Dune:

That's a bit too long for me, even though it communicates an important sentiment. Fear isn't something to get rid of, rather something I need to acknowledge and conquer. It's always going to be there - the goal is to not let it hold me back.

A simple search on social media turns up a bunch of great quotes about facing fear:

I don't know what my perfect affirmation will be - I'll let you know when I find it. Until then, I'll keep you trying to write without letting my fear stop me. Perhaps it will be some version of this:

#365project for 2016

I always have ideas when it comes to new year's resolutions. And yes, on occasion, I meet my own expectations. I still remember the year I gave up Kentucky Fried Chicken (at the time, it was a problem), the subsequent year I gave up donuts (sorry Dunkin), and the year after that when I gave up all candy. My dentist approved.

Creative resolutions are tougher since there's so much inherent change and instability in an artists' life. But I always try, because in general I know the more I move toward developing a disciplined writing practice, the better I will become at writing.

Last year's resolution was to complete 100 auditions. 2015 happened to be the year my acting career took a nose-dive, so I didn't even reach two dozen. 

This year, I'm focused on my writing. Instead of my usual 2-3 scripts a year output, I plan to amp that up to 6 full-length network television scripts in 2016. I'll also planning to publish my second short story collection. Ambitious goals - thank goodness I'm an ambitious person.

To do all that, I'm going to need a lot more creative kindling, i.e. - a lot more writing. So my #365project for 2016 is to write and share something every day.

Starting with this blog post!  

The writing can be in any format, such as a paragraph of fiction, a six word story I can share on Twitter, a one-page scene, or a blog post. Anything goes as long as it's original and shared.

Won't you join me on this journey? Follow me on Twitter and Instagram to read my pieces.

My year starts right now!

Not All Rollercoasters Are Fun

When I celebrated my birthday in May, it seemed my career was on the climb. I finished three prestigious TV writing programs, one of my scripts was a quarterfinalist in a writing competition, and so many people were cheering for me to succeed.

But what goes up must come down. I didn't get staffed, got dropped by my agent, and found myself facing the biggest crisis of faith of my entire creative career. My entire life, really. The self-doubt was painfully suffocating - You've wasted your life pursuing this dream that will never happen. If you were actually good enough, someone would have hired you by now. All the signs are telling you it's time to quit.

I've always said that not losing faith is the hardest part of being an artist. Because artists need faith to survive. We don't choose this path in life because it's lucrative or logical - we do it because we must. So to doubt our career is to doubt our very core being.

But my Taiwanese tiger parents raised me to work hard and be the best, so I've pressed on. June was not pretty. July wasn't any better. I felt blocked even though I knew I had to keep writing.

Thankfully, momentum is an integral component of all rollercoasters and the kinetic energy generated by the years I've invested in my writing life have propelled me through this low point. I'm working on a new pilot script, editing my second short story collection, and I'm almost back to writing every day.

And finally, some good news - I was just hired as a writers assistant/researcher for a new legal drama premiering on BET in 2016. I'm headed back to the writers room! A huge step in the right direction and the boost I needed to start my next climb.

Also, my short story collection HEARTBORN is finally available as a hard copy book. (Pictured here with my morning spinach smoothie...)

It's thin, but beautifully tangible. Order a copy before your Labor Day weekend getaways!

So the rollercoaster that is my creative life rolls on. Thanks for riding with me, everyone. Here's to more ups than downs in the future and the strength to know that no matter how big the dips, faith will always propel you forward.

The Best Gift You Can Give an Artist

I love looking at gift guides during the holiday season. You know, those curated lists of gadgets, gizmos, and goods for a particular recipient. Gifts for Her. Gifts Under $25. Gifts for the Techie.

I even found a few gift guides for actors and writers --

• Holiday Gift Guide for Actors
• 10 Great Holiday Gifts for Actors
• 7 Gifts to Give Your Young Actor This Holiday Season
• Holiday Gifts for the Writers in Your Life
• 10 Alternative Gifts for Writers
• Writer Wish List: 7 Practical Gifts for the Starving Artist

I considered curating my own gift guide specifically for actors or writers, but the more I pondered the task, the more I realized that there would only be one item on the list --

Faith.

Faith is the one thing every artist needs more of because we are constantly fighting not to lose it. Faith in our talent, faith in our work, faith that we are good enough, faith that chasing our dream is the right thing to do. We need faith to survive and we could always use more.

Because, as I've said many times, the most difficult challenge that all artists face is not losing faith in ourselves.

If you're an actor, writer, or any other type of artist, I'm sure you're nodding your head in agreement. You know it's true - losing faith is devastatingly easy. "My script is terrible. I haven't booked in months. No one will sign me. Why am I even doing this?!?" The self-talk and self-doubt spills into our mind freely and quickly, regardless of what our reality may be.

So if you have an artist in your life, give them the gift of faith. Believe in them. Tell them they're talented and mean it. Give them a compliment on the last role they performed. Congratulate them on just getting the audition. Read that story they wrote, watch that video they made - receive their art and tell them what you liked about it. Encourage them to keep going. Keep writing. Keep acting. Keep creating.

Now some of you might be saying, "What if I don't believe in my artist friends? What if I think they're honestly not that talented and should do something more worthy with their lives?"

If that is the case, give them the gift of shutting the hell up. Seriously. If you can't muster any kindness as compassion to supersede your judgment of what they're doing, then don't say a damn thing. Don't be the person who takes faith away from them.

Because that's what you're doing with all your well-meaning concern and "reality" talk - killing their faith. And like I said, artists need that faith to survive.

So spread the love, people! Support the artists in your life and receive the art they create with open minds and hearts. It's the best gift you can give them.

Fictionless Friday: Falling In Love Again

I want to remember this feeling. Every nuance of the sensation coursing through my mind and body right now. I want to fold it into my chest and hold it near to my heart for the rest of my life. This feeling, this joy, this love.

When I walked into the waiting room, I didn't know it would happen. I found a seat among a sea of hot Asian-American women wearing tight, sexy clothing and fake eyelashes. One woman had chopsticks in her hair. They stared at me in my baggy pants and loose purple sweater. I refused to let them intimidate me, despite the stunning length of their legs and the shininess of their equally long hair.

I barely had time to review my lines when an actress friend walked in and sat beside me. We realized that all those other women were auditioning for a different role than we were. We chatted and laughed - I adore her energy - and then my name was called.

And so it began.

I felt it as soon as I walked inside the audition room. The thrill of the unknown combined with a comforting sense of familiarity. I knew what was coming next. A smile from the handsome director, a chair for sitting, a slate for the camera. "Whenever you're ready."

That's when it happened --

I fell in love with acting.

Again, of course - I've been doing this work for years - and yet it felt like the first time. Not like my auditions for one or two line roles as doctors and nurses, furthering the plot with my short but vital exposition. Nor like my other auditions that call for an Asian accent, also one or two lines of berating the white lead actors in a laundromat or convenience store for laughs.

This was an audition to play a character. A living and breathing representation of a human being who interacts with and affects another character's emotional journey.

I had stayed up late to prepare the night before, running lines while in bed, the pages illuminated by my phone flashlight while I listened to YouTube videos of Hong Kongers speaking English on BBC News.

But in the room, I internalized my preparation and just played. I got lost in the moment, as eye-rollingly cheesy as it sounds. I felt the energy from my panel of judges and I let it feed me, helping me settle into another person's skin and become captivating.

I've never felt more beautiful or powerful.

It's been so long since I've felt this way. Perhaps not since my days on the MIT stage, transforming black box theaters into living rooms, gardens, and roof tops. My early roles were molded from thin air with the help of skilled student and faculty directors, rehearsed and pulsed through my body, and crafted for the audience.

The handsome director directed me. Heads nodded, seemingly pleased. I did the scene three times and was finished. I said goodbye as Mr. Handsome rose from his seat to clasp his hands around mine. "Thank you for bringing this to life."

I haven't stopped smiling. I've missed this feeling and I revel in its return. This is the love that inspired me to leave logic and labs behind. This is the love that keeps me eating frozen pizza instead of Pizzeria Mozza. This is the love that has carried me through the last decade and will carry me into the next.

Getting the part or not is irrelevant now. I've already won the prize. Falling in love with acting again and feeling it love me back is a sensation I won't soon forget.

The Five Biggest Lessons I've Learned About Writing

I've officially been calling myself a writer for seven years, and it has been an excruciating and exhilarating ride.

Here are the biggest lessons I've learned about the craft of writing...so far...



#1 - Writers Write Every Day

When I first started, I'd meet with my then-writing partner once or twice a week, but outside of that, I didn't write at all. I remember her calling me on it one day. Let me tell ya - it did not feel good.

But I knew she was right, so I took it to heart. I ramped it up, inspired by concepts like Malcolm Gladwell's 10,000 hours theory from Outliersand Jerry Seinfeld's "Chain" worksheet.

Now, I definitely write every day. It's why I've been able to complete ten TV scripts, countless pitches, short stories, and copywriting assignments, and tens of thousands of words on two novels in the last seven years. All while keeping this blog pseudo-updated, of course.

Even if I'm just journaling my anxieties or beating out ideas on my Notes app while getting my oil changed, I write every day.

It takes discipline and commitment, but you must do it if you want to call yourself a writer. The more you write, the more you learn, and the faster you'll get better at it.


#2 - There's No Such Thing as Writer's Block

There is such a thing as procrastination and laziness. I definitely have days when I'm not feeling creative or just not in the mood, but I've learned to put my ass in the chair and force myself to get in the zone.

I never let myself off the hook by saying I have "writer's block."

And if I get stuck on a character beat or a scene that's not working, I open my brainstorming notebook and start writing through it. It usually looks something like this --

"Ugh, this character doesn't work! He's too damn passive. He should be driving the action more. Maybe he can be up for a promotion? No, that's dumb. Why would he care? Oh! What if his father is the one who was killed at the beginning?! That will drive him to push her to catch the killer! Done!"

Works every time and never takes me that long. Try it for yourself!


#3 - Your Inner Critic is a Persistent Jerk

He's like the guy who invites himself to a party and then drinks all the good wine. You want him to leave, but he just won't go.

Here's the unfortunate truth - your inner critic never goes away. That nagging self-talk comes with the territory. Writers just learn not to listen to it. (And to lock up the expensive wine.)

My inner critic likes to show up after I've had a light day of writing. It crinkles its nose and shouts, "This crap is all you came up with yesterday?! And you call yourself a writer?! You'll never be Kazuo Ishiguro!!"

My inner critic is very specific.

I've learned not to let him get me down. If he's being especially annoying, I'll open a notebook and let him rant until there are no words of doubt left to spew. Then, I start writing.


#4 - Don't Be Precious About Anything

There's this expression that writers use - "You gotta kill your babies." Not the prettiest of statements, but it speaks to the idea that writers need to stay loose and flexible with ideas.

The creative process is all about flow and allowance. If you hang on tightly to that plot point or character trait and try writing around the rest of your story to make that favorite idea work, you're not in the flow. You're creating dams that will make your piece disjointed and inauthentic.

I've cut many wonderful moments, plot twists, and lines of dialogue out of scripts because they just weren't working. Once I removed the main character who inspired the whole pilot idea in the first place! But it was okay - an amalgam of him returned in a short story a few years later.

So be prepared to let your creative "babies" go. If they're really that genius, they'll come back to you later when the time is right.


#5 - Writers Are The Most Fantastic People Ever

We're survivors together, bonded by experience. We all know it's a bitch to sit down and face a blank page. We have empathy for writer problems and are the first to tell you that you can finish that script/novel/play.

Being in a community of writers has been an incredible blessing in my life. My writer friends share advice about the biz and the craft, listen when I need to vent, offer sounding boards for my ideas, and help me succeed. And I'm always happy to do the same for them.

Because we know jealousy and competition are pointless wastes of our creative time and energy.

Ask ten writers to write a story about a cat and mouse and you'll get ten beautifully different pieces. Which piece is the best is a subjective question with an answer that doesn't really matter. All we care about is writing a story that's better than the last one we wrote.

So don't hesitate to expand your circle of writer friends. We're good people.

(Oh, and writers are also the best drinking companions. There's nothing better than happy hour drinks after seeing the concept of your last pilot get sold to HBO!)

What's the biggest lesson you've learned about writing? Share it in the comments below!

Wise Words from Woody

I love Woody Allen's movies.

Well, the ones I've seen. Annie Hall and Manhattan are still on my list of shame. I read the script for Hannah and Her Sisters to prepare for the scene I did at the DGA a few years back, but I have yet to see the film itself.

Still, I know he's a genius. Everyone does. He's an accomplished writer, director, and actor extraordinaire who has been creating films in his unique voice for years. Regardless of anyone's opinion of his personal life, he deserves respect for creating his art his way for so long.

Woody Allen: What I've Learned, a recent feature in Esquire Magazine, just reminds me what a compelling artist he is. We can all learn from what he's learned. A thought-provoking and inspirational read for all artists.

(Interviewer Cal Fussman also wrote an accompanying essay called Meeting Woody Allen that is equally delightful. Be sure to check it out too!)

One of my favorite quotes from the interview --

"If you're born with a gift, to behave like it's an achievement is not right."

A lesson in humility from a man with a wealth of achievements. Just beautiful...

Keep Writing Anyway

Genius writing advice gem from my alma mater --

Comedy in a Dark Room

One of the most exciting things about being an artist is seeing your friends succeed.

That's right, showbiz isn't always the dog-eat-dog world you see in bad movies. For me, there's nothing more inspiring and joy-filled than seeing my contemporaries rise in their careers.

I had the opportunity to celebrate some friends last week when the Asian Pacific American Friends of the Theatre (APAFT) held an event called "Honoring Comedy" to celebrate the seriously funny careers of actors Deborah S. Craig and Aaron Takahashi and playwrights Prince Gomolvilas and Paul Kikuchi.

NOTE - The restaurant where the event was held was lit for romantic dining, not picture taking, so these images are terrible! But they capture what was a thoroughly enjoyable celebration.

The evening started with host Helen Ota, Cold Tofu founder and a successful comedienne in her own right, performing "Taylor the Latte Boy" --

Then playwright/storyteller/honoreee Prince Gomolvilas shared a hilarious story he recently told at TEDx --

Finally, the irrepressible Deborah S. Craig sang a song from Adam Gwon's Ordinary Days - this girl has crazy talent --

Panel time! Helen moderated a discussion with the four honorees --

Then came the presentation of the awards. Group shot!

I can't remember where I met Deborah S. Craig, but I've loved loved loved her fearless comedic style since then --

I've known Aaron since we did the East West Players' theater for young audiences tour back in 2004. Seeing him get recognized for the comedy career he's built since then was such a thrill.

If you don't know who these funny people are, here's some of my favorite videos from each --





And this is the exact story that Prince Gomolvilas told that night - so fantastic --

The Hump Day Update: Back in the Swing Edition

January is half over! What have I done so far?

• Written every day, of course.
  
  
• Spent a day at Universal Studios Hollywood after taking advantage of their Buy a Day, Get 2013 Free annual pass promotion. Finally rode Transformers™: The Ride-3D - pretty great.
  
  
  
  
  While there, my friend spotted La Bamba from Conan. And yes, he was wearing his hat!
  
  
• Caught a 3D screening of Life of Pi at the WGA. Stunning! Thrilled to finally see it after falling in love with Yann Martel's bookso many years ago.
  
  
  
  
  In the Q&A that followed the screening, I was surprised to hear screenwriter David Magee say that the studio mostly left him alone as he and Ang Lee developed the script together. Studio execs trusting a writer? Must have been because he was working with trusted commodity Ang Lee. Otherwise I'm sure they would have noted the hell out of him...
  
  
• Volunteered at the book launch for WriteGirl's latest anthology No Character Limit: Truth & Fiction from WriteGirl. Our fearless WriteGirl leaders introducing the event --
  
  
  
  
  Several girls, including my mentee, read their beautiful, insightful, and now published writing from the book. Inspiration galore!
  
  
• Read a friend's pilot outline, three episodes of a friend's web series, attended a reading of a friend's play, and did a few roles in a friend's script reading. So much finished writing to inspire me to finish my own writing!

My first acting audition for 2013 is today too - woo hoo! 2013 is shaping up nicely, I must say...

A Scolding from a Master

This deliciously blunt rant comes from director Arthur Penn, best known for directing The Miracle Worker and Wait Until Dark on Broadway and Bonnie and Clyde on the silver screen. First posted on Follies of God by James Grissom, this piece speaks for itself. Enjoy.

In Defense of Friction
"I do not want to know another thing about what a nice guy or gal someone on the stage is: This is entirely irrelevant to me. Some sort of desperation has crep t into our theatre--all of our arts, really, but we're discussing theatre--where we feel a defensive wall is erected around the meretriciousness of our work by highlighting how hard someone has worked; how many hours they've put in at the soup kitchen; how many hours they spent researching the aphasic mind in order to replicate the actions of one; how many ribbons sweep across their breast in support of causes; how much they love their lives and how lucky they feel to be on Broadway!

There is very little art, but there is a great deal of boosterism. Fill the seats; buy a T-shirt; post something on the Internet; send out an e-mail blast.

I'm in my eighties, and I think I should have left this earth never knowing what an e-mail blast was.

I saw a play recently that was festooned with understudies: Not the actual understudies, but the hired, primary actors, all of whom performed (if that is the word) precisely like a competent, frightened understudy who got a call at dinner and who raced down to take over a role. No depth; no sense of preparation. These were actors who had learned their lines and who had showed up. And that is all.

I spoke to the director afterwards. By all accounts a nice and talented and smart guy. I asked him why a particular part in this play--a Group Theatre classic--had been given to this certain actor. He's a great guy, was the response. Prince of a fellow. Well, perhaps, but send him home to be a prince to his wife and children; he is a shattering mediocrity. But nice and easy counts far too much these days. Another director told me--proudly--that he had just completed his third play in which there wasn't one difficult player; not one distraction; not one argument. Can I add that these were among the most boring plays of our time? They were like finely buffed episodes of Philco Playhouse: tidy, neat, pre-digested, and forgotten almost immediately, save for the rage I felt at another missed opportunity.

All great work comes to us through various forms of friction. I like this friction; I thrive on it. I keep hearing that Kim Stanley was difficult. Yes, she was: in the best sense of the word. She questioned everything; nailed everything down; got answers; motivated everyone to work at her demonically high standard. Everyone improved, as did the project on which she was working, whether it was a scene in class, a TV project, a film, or a play. Is that difficult? Bring more of them on.

Is Dustin Hoffman difficult? You bet. He wants it right; he wants everything right, and that means you and that means me. I find it exhilarating, but in our current culture, they would prefer someone who arrived on time, shared pictures of the family, hugged everyone and reminded them of how blessed he is to be in a play, and who does whatever the director asks of him.

Is Warren Beatty difficult? Only if you're mediocre or lazy. If you work hard and well, he's got your back, your front, and your future well in hand. He gets things right--for everybody.

No friction. No interest. No play. No film. It's very depressing.

I don't want to know about your process. I want to see the results of it. I'll gladly help an actor replicate and preserve and share whatever results from all the work that has been done on a part, but I don't want to hear about it. I've worked with actors who read a play a couple of times and fully understood their characters and gave hundreds of brilliant performances. I don't know how they reached that high level of acting, and I don't care. My job is to provide a safe environment, to hold you to the high standards that have been set by the playwright, the other actors, and by me. I hold it all together, but I don't need to know that your second-act scene is so true because you drew upon the death of your beloved aunt or the time your father burned your favorite doll.

Now the process is public, and actors want acclimation for the work they've put into the work that doesn't work. Is this insane? Read the newspapers, and there is an actor talking about his intentions with a part. I've pulled strands of O'Neill into this character, and I'm looking at certain paintings and photographs to gain a certain texture. And then you go to the theatre and see the performance of a frightened understudy. But a great gal or guy. Sweet. Loves the theatre.

Every year or so, I tell myself I'm going to stop going to see plays. It's just too depressing. But I remember how much I love what theatre can be and what theatre was, and I go back, an old addict, an old whore who wants to get the spark going again.

I don't think we can get the spark going again because the people working in the theatre today never saw the spark, so they can't get it going or keep it going if it walked right up to them and asked for a seat.

It's a job, a career step, a rehabilitation for a failed TV star or aging film star. I got a call from one of these actresses, seeking coaching. I need my cred back, she said.

This is not what the theatre is supposed to be, but it is what the theatre now is.

I don't want to just shit on the theatre: It's bad everywhere, because it's all business, real-estate space with actors. It's no longer something vital. I used to think that the theatre was like a good newspaper: It provided a service; people wanted and needed it; revenue was provided by advertisers who bought space if the paper delivered, but profit was not the motive--the motive was the dissemination of truth and news and humor. Who goes to the theatre at all now? I think those in the theatre go because it's an occupational requirement: They want to keep an eye on what the other guys are going, and they want to rubberneck backstage with those who might use them in the future. But who are the audiences? They want relief not enlightenment. They want ease. This is fatal.

I talk to Sidney Lumet. I talk to Mike Nichols. I ask them if I'm the crazy old man who hates everything. You might be, they say, but you're not wrong. They have the same feelings, but they work them out or work around them in different ways.

The primary challenges of the theatre should not always be getting people to give a shit about it. The primary challenge should be to produce plays that reach out to people and change their lives. Theatre is not an event, like a hayride or a junior prom--it's an artistic, emotional experience in which people who have privately worked out their stories share them with a group of people who are, without their knowledge, their friends, their peers, their equals, their partners on a remarkable ride." ~~ director Arthur Penn

---

I love this. A scathing indictment of modern day showbiz priorities that I'm guilty of embodying myself - get hired, be liked, rinse and repeat. Color me respectfully scolded, sir.

For more fabulous insight from creative legends, check out James Grissom's blog Follies of God.

Video Distractions: Super Nerd Alert!

Yes, I'm an artist who went to MIT. And even though I spend most of my days creating words and envisioning characters, I am damn proud of my techy-nerd heritage.

My latest favorite videos reflect my penchant for all things geek --

First, perhaps the most amazing Gangnam Style parody ever - MIT Gangnam Style!



I heart this parody so much! Not only does it show off a campus I love and miss, it's a great showcase of the incredible diversity at MIT - cultural, academic, sports, and more. Plus perfect lip-syncing, Logs a cappella, and Noam Chomsky! MIT PRIDE!

One of the comments said it best - "Only an MIT Gangnam Style video could feature: the MIT Dean of Admissions, one of the principal leaders of the Human Genome Project and co-chair of President Obama's Council of Advisors on Science and Technology, the father of modern linguistics, and one of Time's '100 Most Influential People in the World' in 2012 for his liquid metal battery research."

Another fun tidbit from the comments - "Richard Yoon, the star of this video, is an absolute legend. 5.0 GPA, plays on the football team, and I once witnessed him save a kitten from a tree in Killian court."

That's an MIT overachiever, baby!

Next up, a nerdy video referred to me by an MIT alumna --



Did I make one? Of course I did! Still working on getting them perfect - it's my new dinner table trick...

Finally, proof that nerd work is cool --



A little too much woo-ing, but who doesn't love a good Rube Goldberg machine?

Do you have any nerdy videos to share?

My Journey with The Red Shirt

My friend Christopher is excessively creative. His latest project - Journey of Red Shirt.

He's taking this red shirt --

And sending it around the world. Here's how it works --

Genius, right? He gave me the privilege of kicking off the whole thing, so I wanted to do it right. I decided to wear the red shirt on my busy, busy Sunday.

The shirt was a little big for me, so I decided to dress it up --

Sorta works, right?

First stop - Sunday brunch with MIT ladies at the super elegant and super yummy Bottega Louie. Their beignets were like heaven - warm and fluffy. Portabello mushroom fries - SO good. My Lobster Breakfast Hash was gorgeous but just okay --

Bakery at the front was stunning --

A fantastic morning of nerd girl bonding - love MIT women!

Then head to Visual Communications in Little Tokyo for a directing workshop with the great Henry Chan --

Henry used the same scene from Hannah and Her Sisters that he used at the directing/acting workshop I did at the DGA last year, bringing back fantastic memories.

It was wonderfully educational seeing the process from the other side. Henry is a fantastic teacher and an all-around awesome guy. Can't wait to work with him!

Final stop for the day - Atwater Village for the inaugural Work in Progress reading. I shared a piece of my latest sci-fi tale to a packed house --

And that was the red shirt's journey with me! Where will it go next? Follow the red shirt at @JourneyRedShirt.