The Long Way Around

Today I reminisced with a co-worker about old classes that I took for my major in college. I was a film major. Well, Communication Arts with an emphasis in Film. Now, the university has a Film degree, but that wasn’t the case when I attended. And we talked about editing, and directing, screenwriting, and set-design, and cinematography. And I felt that flicker reignite. A flame on a candle long burnt out. I loved making films. However, when I was nearing my senior year and my teachers were asking me, “What are you going to do?” I had no idea. I had fallen in love with a guy that had become my fiancé. I was pretty good and well-rounded at all film things. In hindsight, I probably would’ve made a great director. However, directors had ideas. If you wanted to be a director, you had to make a movie. And stories? I felt I had none to tell. No inspiration. No direction. So, I did what my mom told me to do. I took graphic design classes, and I really enjoyed them. It was something I was also pretty good at. It sort-of incorporated all I had learned in film school, but with a twist. So, in my last year and a half at school, I loaded up and basically switched majors without the cost or actual degree. And then I got a job right of school, doing interactive television web coding (too early for its time). The company died in the Internet bubble burst. And I had bounced to another start up, they were a plenty back then, until they finally tanked. Then I landed in the company I work at now 15 years later. 

There are times when I’m watching television or a movie and I think how did I get so far off track. I feel like I’m living a life not meant for me. Now, don’t get me wrong. I love my husband. I love my children. And I know that all things are as they are supposed to be. I believe in the butterfly effect and I don’t want one thing to change. However, I have to recognize my desire and love of storytelling is still there. Oh. Storytelling. I’ve actually have and had a lot of stories to tell. I’ve been writing stories since the fourth grade. I wrote some really dark creative essays in high school. Then I had one screenwriting class in college and my script was horrible. I did mediocre in the class and I’m thinking that’s probably where the candle was blown out. Remember, directors breaking in the biz make movies, and you can’t make a movie without a script. And well, if you can’t write a script. You’re doomed.

For whatever reason, my professor or just about anybody did not explain to me that of course your very first script is going to be horrible. You have to write another draft. You need to study up. You need to read scripts (Oh, I interned at a Screenwriter Management firm - you would have thought that would’ve given me a clue). You need to get better. And eventually, you will have your script. And eventually, you can make your movie. But, that wasn’t the way for me. See what I’ve come to understand, is that my ultimate project, my big story has to involve my sister. And it wasn’t until seven years ago, that I was inspired with a new story and an idea to write a novel. And it wasn’t until five years ago, that my sister committed to working with me on it. And now, here we are in the final edits of a well-polished manuscript. Getting ready to query again. And remembering that although, one candle burnt out, another was ignited. I’m not going to let this one burn out. I cup my palms around it. I keep it safe. I’m willing to take my time to make it work. To catch my dream. I trust the path that I’m on, I just understand it was the long way around. I’m okay with that.