I spent a year after graduating film school wanting to write. Did I write?

Nope.

I tried to. But I was too hungry. Or too tired. As soon as I would sit down to write, some unimportant task (such as checking emails or writing cover letters) would become a huge priority in my life. I couldn’t sit down and type out the stories I had mapped out in my head.

I watched Eyes Wide Shut, The Shining, The Empire Strikes Back, and a ton of my other favorite movies to get inspired. I became fixated on crazy dream images, hoping one of them would lead into a great story. I even tried to created characters based on some of my favorite songs. I still couldn’t write past page 2. I was devastated.

Why did I want to write so bad? Because I wanted to make another film. Why did I want to make another film? Because on set I’m surrounded by some of my favorite people, it’s challenging to get to the emotional core of something and amazing when you can somehow portray it to others, and it’s a great way to almost kill yourself and feel like some crazy survivor afterwards. Plus, 95% of everything else, as an activity, bores me.

I was getting desperate. Then, circumstances in my life changed. I can take credit for some of the changes during this time. The rest were out of my hands.

When my life changed, so did my thoughts on writing, my writing style, and my writing habits. The only thing that didn’t change was the core of the writing itself, what interested me as a person on a very basic level… a few themes that carry over into everything I write. But back to the things that changed in my life.

Here they are, to best of my knowledge:

* I started taking more responsibility for what I say and do, and for my own reactions to people, events, and ideas.
* I accepted a YMCA job that forced me to work with a large group of coworkers/teammates.
* I involved myself in other’s people’s lives. I became a confidant for others.
* I met people halfway to mend/build relationships by beginning to speak with them more openly and honestly.

The funny (sad) part is is that I’ve known these things, known I should have been living this way, for years. But I was still wrapped up in myself (even after a lot of good changes), and it took some encouragement from a good friend to step up as a person and start living differently, the way I knew I should. It’s sort of like remembering, all in one big rush, the expectations I had for myself as an adult when I was a kid.

You might be thinking, “What a wacko.” That’s understandable.

It wasn’t easy to hear what I already knew from a friend, to be told I was living the wrong way. There was yelling involved. I don’t usually yell when I’m angry. I almost shut down. So I understand why you might write me off.

Now:

* I’m more assertive, I can have more casual conversations with strangers.
* I am less critical in general, of myself and others (which allows me to write, instead of worrying about how much I suck at writing).
* I give less advice and listen more.
* I try not to ruin apologies with excuses.
* I’m not as intimidated by other people’s success.
* I am much more interested in tomorrow, in the future.
* I am not as easily offended or hurt by what people say.
* When I share my fears to a trusted friend/family member, its power over me begins to subside.

It was silly of me to be worried about not being able to write, as if I could separate that conflict from the rest and fix it. Well… we learn.

For now, I have one piece of advice for screenwriters…

If you want to write more often than you are, or if you can’t write the things you want to write about, talk to someone. That’s basically what we’re doing with art, right? So take baby steps. Before you pick up a pen and attempt to connect to a bunch of people, start with one and have a conversation.

To properly even out my advice, a quote from Goethe:

I can tell you, honest friend, what to believe: believe life; it teaches better than book or orator.