So close...but so far.

Good morning all. It's been ages since I've updated this blog. That's because if I have anything worth saying I tend to filter it through mackjackandjill.com. But yesterday I had a story that didn't seem filterable. I was up in Everett at my friend Zach's place. I have returned to Seattle this week to visit old friends and at Zach's house we have set up a massive LAN party. If you aren't familiar with LAN parties, a bunch of dorks bring their computers to one house and you play videogames until you pass out.

In my youth I had watched my friends part take in such dorkiness but was never able to participate myself for various reasons. Well, set up before me was my laptop, my best friends, and a fully updated, ready to play Team Fortress 2 (possibly the best game I've ever purchased). Just as the games were to begin I noticed a missed call from my brother.

Without going through too much detail my brother is suffering an unusual bout of depression brought on by a doctor who's been perscribing pills like candy. He's somewhat volitile and at the moment I feel it my responsibility to be there for him at the drop of a hat. I'm sorry to admit that I don't want to be there for him. You may call me a terrible brother for that sentiment and I wouldn't disagree with you. But unfortunately, helping my brother means sitting there on the phone for the better part of an hour or two while he goes over the same details over and over again and you nod along silently. But I also know that during this volitility I MUST be there for him in any and all needed capacity. That if I were to cut him off in converstaion saying "But you're okay, right. K' I'm gonna go," I would feel like shit. Despite that I've already talked to him for an hour today, despite that this is the one thing in my trip I was most looking forward to.

I pick up the phone and walk up the stairs as my heart starts pounding. The phone rings I don't know how many times as I worry that I might be too late. But finally he answers. He says things are weird. I listen. He continues and I get the sense he's okay, but that's not good enough. I have to be there till the end. And he doesn't end convesations. You have to.

I don't consider myself a very religious person. But I do believe that there are things one should do. I do believe we should give beggers money. I do believe it is wrong to capitalize on someone's mistake (i.e. at a restaurant or coffee shop) and when someone has come to you for help, you help them till you can't help them any longer. I did feel what I was doing at this moment was something God would demand. And so, despite the fact that my friends were once again having the fun I always yearned for, I was upstairs, till the end. I silently prayed for an out. "C'mon, I'm doing you a solid. Please do me one!"

As my brother started his next topic of converstaion, cementing another 20 minutes, he stopped mid sentence.
"Sorry, Ben. Dad's on other line. I'll call you later."

Free at last.

Wrong Turns and Cliff Dives

I've joked in the past that should things not work out the way with regard to my career aspirations as I envision them, I, in all likely hood will shoot myself in the face. There is a distinction I see that other may not between shooting one's self in the face and shooting one's self in the head. Face is humorous on the level of "pie in the face" while head is closer to suicide. Despite the difference I finally must attest to the fact that both convey a chilling sentiment despite the missed implied levity. But I must confess that it is necessary to my survival that I attain a level greater than what I am currently existing at. Let me state that more clearly, the path I am currently on is one of doom.

I'll let the few (one or two people) who read this blog's mind to rest as that I do not actively seek suicide nor do I desire an early and untimely end. However, the life I live is not fulfilling to me. Should I continue in this vain I can only see disaster. I already drink far more than I should. It should not be a mystery why I tend to write people who decay into corruption and despair.

I watched Arron Sorkin's The Newsroom tonight on HBO. The pilot episode is essentially the exact same pilot episode of Sorkin's failed series Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Both pilots trumpet this nations failings that have lost it's way to lower standards. The sentiments work better in The Newsroom than they do in a show about sketch comedy. But regardless, the chilling sentiment stuck in me that I can and should be doing more. As hard as I work, I continue to fall short of my potential. When I was a teenager, I felt very strongly about my opinions and argued them with a passion. In retrospect, I was certainly wrong about most of those opinions and in greater certainty I was annoying and pompous to those around me. However, the apathy and  contentment in ignorance I have adopted if far worse than the attitude of the impudent teenager. At least then I was willing to fight for what I felt was important.

The doom that lingers over me is from numerous missed opportunities. I honestly feel like every decision I made has been the wrong one. Issac Newton never had the apple fall upon his head, Columbus decided not to take the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria on their voyages, Copernicus decided fuck it, I guess the sun isn't the center of the solar system. Am I narcissistic and grandiose to compare myself to the likes of those historical figures? Definitely.  But something inside of me demands that I expect that level of greatness of myself.

I have a friend who recently told me that the worst thing you can tell your child is that they are great and above average. Such sentiments will lead to great anxiety and disappointment. I couldn't disagree more. Perhaps those sentiments lead to my unhappiness. But I demand more of myself. I have to. Otherwise I will cease to be. That's not suicidal despair. It is simply what I feel I have to do.  

So when people tell me I'm brave for moving to New York or LA to pursue my dreams I look at this with a perplexed confusion. I'm not going after my dreams. I have to do this. Or I will die. I promise you that. I'm doing it to survive.

Days till LA

It seems I only update this blog when I am in a bit of emotional turmoil. Bare in mind I seem to only update it once a month or so. A shudder at the picture one might construct of me based on these posts alone.

In the past month I have decided to leave New York to move to LA. But unlike the decision to move to New York, which was empowering, this one has been stultifying. My writing has come to a virtual stand still. I'm lucky if I update MackJackandJill once a week. My drinking moderation has deteriorated to the point it was before I quit. And my dating life has come to a screeching halt.

On the plus side my play Same River Twice is being staged read this Sunday. Click here for the Facebook page. It was originally scheduled for May 20th but then the bar told us we couldn't have that weekend so it was pushed back to May 27. I figured that would be fine, only to realize later that it was Memorial Day weekend and everyone will be out of town. Several people who not only expressed but promised to go now suddenly proclaimed, "Sorry, I'm going to be in the Hamptons/Long Island/drunk." I've been pimping this show for two months now, sending texts, email updates, Facebook invites, everything I could think of. So when after the 3rd reminder someone finally messages back "Sorry, I have plans," it makes me what to scream at them "Yea, for my show that I've been telling you about for over a month!" It would be one thing if they text/emailed me saying, "I'm sorry, I know how much this play means to you, but I need to go on this vacation or my head is going to explode." But instead I get this feeling of "whoops, we'll come next time." I felt so goddamn alone, yesterday.

Otherwise I've been applying to contests and fellowships in droves. In the past two months I've applied to the Austin Film Festival, The WB Writers' Mentoring Program, the CBS Diversity Fellowship, and soon the Disney | ABC Writers' Program.

Also I bought Diablo III. Not really sure what the hub bub is all about.

Song - Owl City - Take It All Away

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

This past week has been emotionally erratic. The Modern Family research has been really trick. I mean all you have to do is watch the damn show, but I really hate sitting, hour after hour watching it. I've also struggled to stay focused on my blog.
It's one thing to sit down and start writing an idea. I've become remarkably adept at that (which is where most writer's falter.) But there are other hurdles tripping me up and they are stultifying. Another example, I am applying to a CBS fellowship. Fellowships are much better then contests. They're free (usually) and you actually meet producers, show runners, head writers, etc and they usually result in a job. So I've got this fellowship application in front of me. I've got my 30 Rock script written and current. I've got a strong second entry (they want something not TV) so I've got a newly edited 3rd draft of Same River Twice ready to go. But what stops me? Resume or bio. It's just a stupid thing, but I don't know how to present myself. I've been told if I don't have a resume write a bio. I don't have much writing experience so what do I pad it with? All my acting experience? Do I throw in that I had a personal writing coach named Charles Waxberg who has a great resume himself? Do I go into detail about what I'm good at as a writer that sets me apart? It just feels so wrong and rudimentary.
Same thing with the website. I keep telling myself to write the page content on its then do the bells and whistles later, but then I spend 45 minutes trying to get the lettering size right and a good background. I get frustrated and close the browser window.
The ball of fire that used to drive me feel like it is extinguishing. I feel like I'm running on "this is what I should do" rather than "this is what I want to do."

On the other end of things, Marilyn has called me a couple of times. She's the last girl I dated. Without going into too much detail, she's the first person I was excited to date in a long time. She broke things off for a few reasons. But ultimately because I was eventually going to move to LA and she didn't want to get involved. That break up was the inciting incident to the firm August move date.
But another reason she broke things off was because I was good at getting past her emotional walls. I must say I'm pretty in touch with my feelings and emotional intimacy has always been easy for me. She didn't like that, it made her feel uncomfortable. She called me probably about two weeks ago about a crisis she didn't feel like she had anyone else to turn to. That made me feel good. But it also made me start to see "us" as a possibility (despite the logical acknowledgement of it still being an impossibility.) We chatted briefly on gchat since. But then a few nights ago she drunk dialed me waking me up.  I was glad she did. We had a talk I barely remember but I know it was along the lines of emotional walls coming down again.
Yesterday I got another gchat message from her, and just as conversation gets going she pulls this out of left field:

Marilyn:i like talking to youbut i hate talking to you.

  it's very much a love-hate thing.

 me: :(

 Marilyn: it's not your fault

  it's that you allow me to be emotionally weak when i talk to you

 me: And why would you hate talking to me?

 Marilyn: and i don't feel like i can ever afford to do that.

  i get to fall apart when i talk to you

7:20 PM and then it takes forever to put myself together again.

  i hate it

  but i like having the freedom to do so

 me: You're not the only one who has to put themselves back together after we talk.

 Marilyn: fair enough.

 me: It's why I don't contact you.

7:21 PM Marilyn: well aren't we a bunch of masochists

 me: But always welcome it when you message me all the same.

 Marilyn: i'm sorry.

 me: Look forward to it even.

7:22 PM Though it sounds like you putting yourself back together is more strenious than me.

7:23 PM But look at it this way...

7:24 PM You're going to fall apart sooner or later regardless, better you do it with me than at some random moment or when you're all alone.

This has left me in a sort of emotional limbo. Clearly there is something there that she refuses to let happen, but at the same isn't going to let go of. And I am moving to LA. She won't change that. But I still feel really cheated. She and I connected on something that I never connect on anyone with. She robbed me of that exploration. Yes I want to be there for her if she needs me. But I can't detach my help from the hope of a physical relationship when reinitiate contact.

Song of the day - Freelance Whales.

Moving Forward -- Progress!

Some progress has been made in my week since the last post. So that's fun. I've picked Modern Family for my new show to spec. I can watch all of this season thanks to Hulu Plus (I think I'm the only person in America that has that) but the first two seasons are not on Netflix. What a crisis. That means I'll have to read episode synopses  and character descriptions online. Which sucks because I really do learn character voices by watching. Maybe I can find some website with its server in Korea or something.

This week I edited my play Same River Twice down to 66 pages from 80 pages. (The original draft was almost 100.) Unfortunately the theatre company is really stiff on time and so they want me to cut more. Originally they're the ones who told me to get it to around 65 pages. I submitted that, then they just decided to cut a bunch of other shit out anyway. I'm not too happy. But at least it will be read on May 20th.

But after getting it to the 66 page mark, I'm pretty happy with that cut. So much so that I copyrighted it. Booya! Then submitted it to the Mad Lab Theatre company. While we're talking about submitting things, I also submitted my 30 Rock to the Scriptapalooza TV contest. TV contests cost money (around $40) but it's one of the few ways to get production companies and agents to read your stuff. Coming up is the Austin Film Festival that has a contest and a Disney Fellowship. Fellowships are better in that they are free and the prize is often times a job. So wooo! (Not to be confused with the leet speak woot.)

Meanwhile, I've compiled everyone I could remember meeting in the last 9 or so years and made a NETWORKING email list. Delving into the past dizzying. It's crazy how many people we come across and don't remember. Along with that, I've purchased the url www.eltermanproductions.com. I just have to figure out wordpress's system well enough. But an online presence will be necessary. Then I'll need to tackle business cards.  Oh and I'm moving to LA in August. Cause you know, that's probably what I should have done a year ago. Oh well.

Lastly, I've started dabbling into the Paleo diet. If you haven't heard, it's the "cave man" diet. Basically, it figures our evolutionary biology has not progressed very much in the last hundred thousand years which is problematic because with the advent of agriculture (about 10,000 years ago) our diet has completely changed. Long story short, our bodies aren't meant for processing grains. The book I'm reading (pictured above) is a little much and I'm not too happy with the style. The claims are pretty grandiose (he says grains are responsible for Cancer, Parkinson's, MS, and I'm pretty sure racism [last one I made up.]) And he insinuates Government conspiracy from time to time. (With respect to the grain heavy food pyramid.) I'm a little more interested in understanding the biology of it all and he goes into that but he's pretty bad at keeping enzyme and hormone explanations concise and clear. I come away from those chapter feeling like I've read a garbled mess. But my Cross-Fit friends swear by the diet, so I'll give it its month trial and see how I feel. Hell it's Passover this week, so I'm practically on the diet anyway.

Other than cutting my hand and ending up in the ER last week and meeting a cool girl last night, that's been the long and the short of it. I'll leave you with this awesome song.

Moving Forward

My TV writing class ended last night all the while coinciding with a compulsion that's been brewing inside me. As Mega Man X's cries in desperation when his health gets low so must I, "time to get serious." Over the past two years, I've proven to myself that I indeed can write. I have 6 bodies of work (3 plays, 2 spec scripts, 1 pilot script) as well as a blog, and the ability to take and incorporate notes. It surprised me how few of the other writers in my TV classes finished even first drafts of their scripts over the 10 week course while I was turning in 2nd and 3rd draft revisions.

What I haven't done is push myself in a direction to market and selling myself.  And that's the big deal. Networking has always been a scary word for me. I've come to view myself as a loner and when I'm at my loneliest I never feel I have anyone there for me. But the truth of the matter is that I've had plenty of opportunities for networking and have simply let the relationships die. As I look back there are plenty of people in college and play shows that I've done who were more than willing to be supportive. I just let it die away. So now my personal goal is to reinvigorate those relationships and keep them alive.

Networking: Check!

Marketing....
Uhhh....okay. So here's the real problem. How the hell do I get my stuff to make me money? I need to start getting outside my comfort area. Contacting agents, production companies, being persistent, aggressively market. I've always wanted to play the game by the rules. As I've grown older, I've come to realize that success goes to those willing to bend or break the rules by taking a risk. My see what happens approach has gotten me to be a 28 year old waiter. It's time to try something more active.

This also means I will be leaving New York. It was a bad decision for my career. But it gave me a year and some change to be more firmly committed to my goal. I learned to be a little more gruff and forceful. The writing class refined me and gave me direction. It will be a bitch to pack my shit up and mail it again. I'll have to buy a new car, pay for insurance, find another place, but fuck it...it's time. I'm putting the date at July or August.

I've felt for a long time that I don't feel like a man. And why should I? What have I done? I've not built a career, a family, a community. I've wandered from group to group, job to job, keep mostly to myself and it's left me lonely and unaccomplished. At my core, all I want is to sit at home, get drunk, fuck a girlfriend, play videogames or watch movies. And as much as I will indulge in pieces of that, when I do have free time I'm never able to enjoy any of those things (well except the girl fucking, but even then not really.) I truly believe, if I am able to overcome this networking hurdle, if I'm able to support myself with my writing, I will finally be a man.

If I can't, if I fail I will probably shoot myself.

A Year and Some Change.

I just passed my year anniversary in New York and it's time I brought things back into focus. It's been a long time since I've update this blog or MackJackandJill. Working out is at a bare minimum. I stopped writing topical jokes. And drinking is pretty much back to where it was before I "took the break." But the biggest sin of all is that, in the year I've been in the city of New York, I've done almost nothing to market myself as a writer.

Now it's not been all bad. Dating has been, to say the least, adventurous. There's even a girl I really like (though it seems to be almost over.) I've got a few friends under my belt. Same River Twice will be read by the Hudson Warehouse in May. And I've finished a few drafts of my TV pilot.

But the feeling that it's all slipping away is unavoidable. And that is my crisis. For the past six months or so, I've been taking two TV writing classes. And even though  they've been a great help in understanding the process and the system, they've afforded me the privilege of putting my life on "auto pilot."  As much I like this girl I'm seeing, she has been an incredible distraction. If she were online right now, I'd be talking to her instead of writing this blog. I've let myself fall harder than I should which has let me squeeze by with the minimal effort to my writing.  

So what now? As centered as I am at this moment. past experience has demonstrated diminishing resolve. I've proved to myself and to others that I am devoted and talented writer. The focus has to be now on getting those with power and money to believe it too. I've got a list of a few goals.

1) Get Hold Up performed. (That's a short play I wrote.)
2) Continue writing spec scripts. (1 per month.)
3) Get The Guilty optioned. (My pilot.)
4) Get known. However I'm supposed to do that.

It's scary. It really is.