A Proposal (Part 3)

James forged ahead. It now seemed to him that he was merely an observer in all of this. Like a passerby, standing just behind him and slightly to the side. Or perhaps next to Teresa. Yes, that would be better. That was his one regret in all of this; that he couldn’t hold her in his arms in this moment. Everything seemed better with her warm body pressed up against his. Everything. And he knew in his heart he could do anything with her by his side. Even get through this.

He continued to drift through his prepared speech, the one that he'd spent months memorizing, until he suddenly realized that he'd stopped talking. This was it! His panic threatened to return for the briefest of moments as he worried that he had forgotten to end on a question.

"Yes! Yes! Of course I'll marry you!" she cried, alleviating his concerns in the process. "Really?" he asked, feeling like an idiot before the words had even left his mouth. It would be a story they could tell their children someday. "When your father asked me to marry him, I said yes. And he said 'Really?'"

James slipped the ring onto her finger. He was struck by how much anticipation and anxiety had led up to such a simple act. And just like that, it was over. The engagement was on.

He rose up to her lips and he kissed her like the eternity that they just lived through had actually happened.

To be continued...

A Proposal (Part 2)

As he started to speak the words caught in his throat, tripping over each other as they all tried to rush out at once. A millisecond of panic shot through him like a bolt as he thought back on all his scenarios, simultaneously recognizing that this had never happened in any of them. The word "Abort" flashed in front of his eyes as sirens blared. Adrenaline surged through his veins as his flight or flight instincts, born through millennia of his ancestors escaping danger, began to kick in. He could feel his muscles tensing up, coiling in anticipation. But then the moment passed. Moments always do. And as quickly as it had come his panic retreated away without him, giving way to his steely determination that had brought him to this point.

Teresa’s own mind was less calm about the flub. Outwardly she kept up appearances. Her smile remained glued in place, and tears continued to well in her eyes. But inwardly a small voice was objecting loudly. "NO! It’s not supposed to happen like this! It’s supposed to be perfect!" And she knew the voice was right. The man is not supposed to stumble over the words. Her pulse began to quicken as her fantasy of a perfect, dream proposal withered and died before her eyes. The objections were welling inside her, threatening to escape.

But then she looked into his eyes. The eyes that had always been there when she needed him. The eyes that had cried with her. The eyes that had shared in her joy. In his eyes she saw the love he had for her. Well, love with a little bit of fear. And for a moment, her heart was completely calm. "Hush now," she consoled the voice, "It is perfect."

To be continued...

A Proposal (Part 1)

Teresa knew where this was going. The candles? The rose petals? She wasn’t dumb. The truth is she had been wondering aloud to her friends when James would propose. It had been an incredible two years, but it was about time for them to move on to the next stage. So when he had mysteriously brought her to their favorite spot, here in the park where they shared their first date, she knew what to expect.

But even with all the anticipation and expectation, she wasn’t quite prepared for the way her heart jumped in her chest when she saw him kneel down in front of her. In fact, if her attention hadn’t been so singularly focused on the man before her, she very well may have fainted. She had waited for this moment her whole life.

While he never would have admitted it publicly, James had dreamt of this his whole life too. Always the hopeless romantic. Always the chivalrous gentlemen. James had run this scenario a thousand times in his head. A thousand, thousand times. And yet, even though it always ended with her saying the greatest word in the English language, he just couldn’t stop his hands from sweating now.

"This is such a vulnerable position", he thought, "I’ve never felt so exposed in my life." And that really was saying a lot considering his college fraternity’s propensity for streaking.

To be continued...

Non-News That's Good News

It's been a whirlwind 24ish hours for me here in L.A. But before I get ahead of myself, let's start at the beginning.

Many of you know that I applied to a number of TV writing fellowships at the end of May. I worked long and hard on a spec script of "Modern Family" and submitted it to Warner Bros., NBC and ABC. It was a long shot of a pipe dream, but it was good practice and I came out of it with a great writing sample at the very least.

Over the last couple weeks I heard back from (or didn't hear back from) the NBC and WB programs informing me that I had not been chosen as a semi-finalist. But as I said, the odds were always stacked against me and I didn't really have much hope of breaking through. The WB fellowship alone received over 1,700 entries. Of those 1,700 only 8 (4 comedy scripts, 4 drama scripts) are being chosen. For those keeping track at home, that means less than 0.5% of all applicants are chosen. With odds like that, I was hardly devastated. I know my script is solid and I don't need a lottery to tell me that.

Now only the ABC program remained. The creme de la creme. ABC is a full year long program (twice as long as WB and 4 times as long as NBC) that sets their participants up as "Program Writers" on actual working shows. Consequently, it's the only program that pays its writers. $50,000. Naturally their selection process is a little more involved than all the other programs... combined.

ABC was the only program to require, not one, but TWO letters of recommendation from "Industry Professionals". They require applicants that get through the initial round of eliminations to submit TWO additional writing samples (one pilot script and one miscellaneous script). They then narrow those down to the Semi-Finalists, who are run through a phone interview. From that interview, 30 Finalists are chosen to take part in a 3 day "gauntlet" of interviews. Day one is a mixer with all the finalists and various executives and producers. Day two is one-on-one interviews with program executives, the people running the program. Day three is a panel interview with program executives, shorunners and producers. From that, 8 writers/writing teams are selected (4 comedy, 4 drama again).

It sounds intense but remember; ABC is putting these rookies into their actual working writer's rooms. They will be participating in their shows. They need to be sure they're picking writers who are not only talented but good, personable and fun people too.

So why did I explain all this? Because yesterday evening, around 6:20 p.m. PST, the ABC Writer's Program emailed me to ask for additional writing samples.

Wow! That was exciting news... for about 15 seconds. If you'll recall I said that the program asks for two additional writing samples. A pilot, which I had. And a miscellaneous, which I did not. Not really. I had a couple scripts lying around but nothing newer than a year and a half old, and none that were comedic (as my spec and pilot were comedic, I figured it would be best to stay on that track). And the cherry on top? All additional materials were due by 4 p.m. this afternoon. Less than 24 hours after the email was sent.

What was I gonna do? My crappy older stuff wasn't ideal and was mostly in need of extensive rewriting to come close to an accurate representation of my current skill level. I didn't have time to fix those if I wanted to. I have been working on a drama pilot for a while but it's not even ready for me to write pages. Even if it were I didn't have time to write a 40-60 page drama script (something I've yet to even attempt).

I was desperate. All those hours on that script. Was it really gonna end this way? ABC wanted more of my material and I just didn't have any? No. I may very well not make it into the program, but I wasn't about to let THIS be the reason I don't get in.

It was clear what I had to do. I had to write something from scratch. I had about 18 hours until I had to have my materials in and I was gonna have something. Racking my brain I remembered a series of sketch ideas me and my roommate had been tossing around all week. We had just finished watching "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" and were toying with the idea of doing our own sketch comedy show to post online and maybe generate some exposure.

That was it! Sketch comedy shows have writer's rooms too! Sketches are legitimate television writing!

I quickly set to work on the sketches. Most of the ideas were nothing more than concepts or funny images that hadn't been flushed out into full sketches yet. But this wasn't pitch time, this was sink or swim time. So I plowed ahead and by 6 a.m. I had written 8 sketches totaling about 19 pages in length. I took a quick snooze while my mom and brother looked the pages over and gave me some feedback. When I woke up I got to work on making revisions, as well as signing and scanning the various release forms that needed to accompany my writing samples (I also had to fill out a form that included web addresses for my social networking presence; apparently they want to look over my facebook page).

In the end I got them all sent off with time to spare. Now I'm pretty much falling asleep at the keyboard but I wanted to let you all know about my exciting 24 hours. For those wondering; yes, I am actually quite happy with how the sketches turned out. I thought they were all funny and that's about all you can ask for in sketch writing. Beyond that, I think a collection of straight jokes will pair nicely with the more dramedy spec and pilot I submitted. And I think it may help me stand out as I doubt many others submitted a sketch packet as a writing sample. Under the circumstances, I don't see how it could have gone better.

It's also encouraging to know I'm capable of that kind of production in a very short time when pressed. It's a confidence that will come in handy when I'm actually a working staff writer someday and my livelihood depends on me writing 20 pages in a night.

Now, this is still non-news in the end. They're likely asking hundreds of people for additional materials. All it means is I made it past whatever initial screening processes they use to thin out the herd. But it's still good news. I'm not out. I'm a tiny step closer to a spot in the program. And I got two more strong writing samples into the judges hands, which can only be a good thing. Whatever happens next is out of my control, but at least I was able to pick myself up off the mat and stay in the game when I had to. Thanks be to God.

Never Say Die

Never say die. That's the motto these days. I had hoped that after I got back out here God would clear some things up for me. But that hasn't been in the cards for me so far. And now it's a game of endurance.

I recently retired from background acting. It was a difficult decision since I enjoyed it so much and it had been a good source of friends over the last year and a half since I'd started. The truth is I'd lost my heart for it. Also, if I'm honest, it hadn't been a reliable source of income for about 12 months. But mostly I was tired of being treated like cattle on sets. I was tired of being below the lowest wrung of production looking up. If I'm going to be getting up at 4 a.m. to work a 15 hour day, I want to actually matter to the production.

And so I'm back to pursuing work as a Production Assistant (PA). For those unfamiliar with the term, it's basically the equivalent of a run of the mill intern, but on sets and in production offices (and paid). We just do whatever menial task needs doing. Fetch lunches, make copies, hold traffic. You name it. It's tough to get a foothold without knowing someone but every short-term/one-day job I get builds my resume so I'm hopeful that one of these times I'll stick.

For the time being, I am in dire straights. My bank account has reached frighteningly small proportions while I wait on a check from my latest PA job. Supposedly it should be here in the next couple days. Supposedly. You see, to make matters more stressful, I have been having difficulties with my mail lately and the check I'm waiting for may not even make it to me on the first try. It could easily be another week or more before I see that money. So hooray!

Other than that, there's really not much going on in my life. I've barely left the apartment the last couple days. I can't really afford to do anything and even driving to free places costs me gas. So I've just been sitting here waiting for my check to come (so I can stop living like a hermit) and applying for jobs like a mad man.

It's amazing how exhausting that can be. I have to overcome so much pessimism now just to fill out an application. I've heard it said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. And it certainly feels like I'm insane. I fight off the questions (Am I doing something wrong?, Am I just unhirable?, etc.) and crippling self-doubt just so I can fill out another application that I'm either too qualified for or under-qualified for and send it off knowing I won't be hearing back from them either. Eventually you can't overcome that. You find that it's more appealing to waste your time on your own terms. Why fill out a resume that will go nowhere when I can watch another episode of 'Scrubs'? Well, bad example because watching 'Scrubs' is always preferable to doing anything else. But you know what I mean. When hope feels like a waste of time, the soul becomes heavy.

When I was in Minnesota earlier this year, God went out of his way to show me that I don't belong there anymore. As much as I might want to go home sometimes, I know that I can't be happy there for long. This is where I need to be. Which is helpful in a way because the boats were burned, so to speak, and there's nowhere to go anymore. Onward and upward. Once more into the breach. And so forth. I think that was His point. As if He was preparing me for this time. I don't have anywhere to go now so I have no choice but to endure and do whatever I have to in order to keep my head above water. Fight, scratch and claw. Make them drag you away kicking and screaming. How bad do I want it? I guess we're gonna find out.

Through it all, I ask "Why?". Not because I'm questioning God putting me through this as much as that I'm terrified I'm missing whatever lesson(s) I should be learning in these trials. I guess pray for that. I'd hate to go through all this and miss out on the chance to better myself.