In France!

If all goes well, I'm in Paris--right about when this post goes up. It's such a cliche to love Paris. But I do. I love the storied, storybook architecture, the cobbled windy streets, the beautiful stores and the stunning food and the music of the language all around me. One of the happiest memories I have of the past few years is a simple one: sitting on a low stone wall overlooking the Seine, with the sun shining, eating a lemon crepe. It doesn't take a lot to make me happy.

It's easy to be romantic in Paris, because romance isn't something you construct--it's all around you, a hazy fog you move in that casts everything you do in an extraordinary light. Yes, I am totally romanticizing the place. If I lived there it would become ordinary, full of the inconveniences and unpleasantnesses you find when you really get to know a place. I don't care. I will continue to put Paris on a pedestal as long as I can.

I live in another city it's easy to romanticize. I don't really romanticize New York. I live in a less-than-trendy neighborhood, and I'm in the city every day. I see the rats and the grime and the problems. I also see the opportunity and excitement. Like a lot of people, I came to New York to make something happen in my life. That's what the city's for--and as an ambitious person, I'm at home here. But I'd like to think that New York and I have a more functional, everyday relationship: I see New York for what it is, the good and the bad.

So New York is like my husband. I wouldn't want to be with anyone else. At least not for the foreseeable future. But Paris is the exciting, gorgeous, romantic fling I sometimes need to make living in New York even more spectacular. You always appreciate things most from a far-away vantage point. And I know that after being away for a while, I'll be even more happy that I live here.

On Rhinos and Revision

Seriously, guys, I need my own Rhino.

My dear friend at So Many Words recently blogged about Rhinos of Revision--that part of you that charges into the first draft of your novel, sniffs out what should stay, and stomps on what should go--stomps it FLAT. The Rhino of Revision doesn't give a sh--t. The Rhino of Revision has no problem killing your darlings. The Rhino of Revision eats darlings for BREAKFAST.

I am missing my Rhino. Oh, it comes out when I review other people's novels. I'm a confident editor when it's someone else's work. I know exactly what I think should change, exactly what I think should stay, and how I think the writer can whip the manuscript into shape. But I seriously, for the life of me, can't do it for myself. It's like a sickness. I'm on Novel 4 right now--having failed to get three into fighting shape after writing sucky first drafts. I just haven't figured out how to coax my inner Rhino out of its cave.

So far I'm lucky to have two very tolerant and long-suffering editors who are willing to lend me their own very competent Rhinos. But I need to be able to do this for myself. And it's not easy. I think it will have to involve spending more time with each chapter and just working out that muscle that seems to wither in the face of an overwhelming task. Of course, the one difference between my own manuscript and someone else's is that I don't have to actually put all the changes I suggest to work when I'm editing someone else's stuff. This makes me braver, I think.

So my goal for this week is to sit down and have a serious look at the chapters I'm working on. Maybe start an editing diary to keep track of what I think needs to happen, just in one small, manageable section that I'm working on right now. The secret is to keep this manageable. Because my Rhino is a skittish thing. It's got a five-inch-thick hide. But it's also endangered. Hm...may be carrying this metaphor too far.

Anyway. Rhinos. Must get one. Revisions. Must do them.

Spring is Here

So many, many things I want to do. And with the sunny weather, I'm feeling inspired to get it done! I've been so busy lately and so excited about life, love, and living in the city. Here are a few things I've been working on in the past three months--some career-related, some not.

Getting my acting sh---t together. Goodbye crappy headshots! Goodbye going to print-modeling go-sees with acting photos! And at long last, goodbye crappy acting website. This winter and spring, I've embarked on a spring-cleaning of my acting marketing collateral. I've got fabulous new pictures coming and an amazing web design company lined up to build me a new website. I've also done a couple of fun film and TV projects that hopefully will give me some great reel material. It's taken a long time for all of this to come together, but I have a feeling great things will happen when it does.

Getting my writing sh---t together. I've been working hard on my novel--with the goal of having it agent ready by end of next year. I hit a snag and right now I'm having a very select circle of trusted readers look it over and let me know what they think--one of my goals this year is not to sit on my drafts when I get stuck, the way I've done in the past. I get too stuck in the echo chamber of my own mind.

Getting my freelancing sh---t together. Actually, this has probably been the most together part of my life for the past few years. My freelancing business has sustained me throughout years of living independently in Philadelphia and New York--and I'm eternally grateful. But I wanted to take it a step further. I've resurrected my freelance writing blog in the past few months, and I know it's also time to resurrect the article section on my freelance writing website and get better about social media and non-social-media marketing. I've been tackling these projects a little at a time, once a week.

Writing a song, knitting a blanket, learning to speak, learning to dance, writing a poetry chapbook. These are my random creative projects--things I love to do when I just need to take a break from all the career-related stuff above and have some fun.

I feel overwhelmed sometimes. But when the sun is shining and the weather is warm, it's just easy to feel light and optimistic--like everything can't help but work out perfectly. I know it won't. Life still adamantly refuses to be perfect--it's taken me a long time to accept that. But I'm doing a lot of things this year I should have done a long time ago--and I'm excited about it.

Being Cindy Williams

So last week was insane and crazy and wonderful and exhausting...pretty much all at once, all the time. I was busy a lot. One of the things I was busy with was filming an episode of Celebrity Ghost Stories. I got to re-enact a ghost story told by Cindy Williams, who played Shirley in Laverne and Shirley. Apparently she looks a lot like me.

And i got to be terrified. All the time.

The ghost story she told was really scary! It starts when Cindy starts hearing strange noises in her house. Doors slam when she's alone. She sees something big and black run under her daughter's bed--something definitely too big to be a cockroach. Things escalate until I--ahem, Cindy--has to call in a friend who's a medium to light some burning sage, wave a severed eagle's wing, and chant those chants that ghosts don't like to hear. I'd tell you what happens next, but I don't want to give away the ending.

I am such a worrier. I always think the perfect take was the one that would have happened just after the last one I did. I noticed this in myself two weeks ago, when I was filming Sarah and Penny, the student film about the girl with OCD. I definitely also do it now. I bet lots of professional actors feel this way too. But there's no way to know until I see the footage--which I'm looking forward to. Also looking forward to having current material for my reel.

In other words, I also did the Sam Christensen Studios workshop last week. This was a four-day endeavor that took up a lot of time and had massive amounts of homework--hence, no blogging last week. But I got some great insight into my "type" for acting--and I'm thrilled to get out there and put myself in front of more agents and auditioners. I'm starting to feel very optimistic about this year!

Where to Go For Inspiration

I don't believe in writers' block. I believe in sitting down and writing whether you're "inspired" or not. I'm kind of a no-nonsense, tough-love sort of writer--when it comes to dealing with my inner child. But I also know it's more fun to write when you're inspired. Still, inspiration doesn't come when it's called--it comes when it's good and ready. Or does it?

No, you can't control inspiration, But it helps to know yourself and know how to make the environment friendly to it. Here are a few places I know to return to when I"m struggling for it.

To my friends. There is nothing like checking out what your friends are doing to get back the urge to create yourself. I"m lucky to have quite a few extremely talented friends who always inspire me. And by "inspire me," I mean "make me insanely jealous with the awesome stuff they're doing." Jealousy isn't a bad thing, though. Jealousy fuels me.

To books and art I love. Reading is my refuge. When I was a kid, I would sit in my room for hours and read. I would read on the playground. I would read in the classroom. I had this clever habit of propping a textbook up on my desk and hiding a small paperback in it so it looked like my face was buried in the textbook. Of course, any teacher who moved around the room rather than hanging out at the front would have my number. But I still thought it was a brilliant move.

To the outdoors. I grew up in Vermont, and being outside always makes me feel better. Even if I'm outside in New York, which I'm not sure actually counts as "outside." I like being surrounded by trees and not hearing any sounds of human habitation, but if there's none of that particular environment around, I can live with warm sun on my back and a nice patch of grass.

To coffee shops. The world just looks different in a coffee shop, and I've done some of my best and most productive writing in them. I love coffee shops that attract freelancers and writers themselves. I love cafes full of people tapping away on laptops. I feel part of something bigger--part of a counter-cultural movement away from the cubicle and toward creative, entrepreneurial, and fulfilled lives. I feel like we're all in it together, even if we're all working on our own things.

To the gym. I get bored when I jog. And when I get bored, I daydream. I've found the treadmill is a great place to think about my book and untangle troublesome plot points.

Where do you go for inspiration?

I Want to Be a Cove Guardian

So my boyfriend watched The Cove a while back--the documentary about Japanese dolphin hunters who slaughter pods of dolphins in an isolated cove near the town of Taiji--and was extremely moved. He tried to get me to watch it. I didn't want to. In fact, I kind of categorically refused.

Some people claim that Japan's whaling tradition is an ancient and honorable one, and by condemning it, the West is asserting its own specific view of right and wrong over other countries. I understand that opinion--and I certainly don't think everything Western countries believe is right or that all countries should act like the US or Western Europe. But I do think that there are certain standards all countries should adhere to as we become more enlightened and responsible as a species, things that make the world as a whole a better place--such as basic standards of human rights and environmental responsibility. For me, these kinds of practices fall under that. And I can understand wanting to preserve the ancient whaling practices of the Inuit people in Alaska, for instance; these are people who still hunt whales with kayaks and hand-thrown spears. The whales, in other words, still have a chance. Japan practices full-on commercial whaling, which happens on a much larger scale--and the whales don't have much of a chance at all.

Anyway, back to The Cove. The reason I didn't want to see it wasn't that I'm in favor of Japan's whaling and dolphin-hunting tradition. The reason is that it will give me serious nightmares. I get that way about animal cruelty--I grew up riding horses and I still have trouble watching movies where horses get hurt, even though I know it's not real. It bothers me because I know stuff like that happened in the past and happens still every day. It takes a psychic toll on me to see it. I watched a documentary on ocean life a few months ago and cried for hours over a really graphic scene depicting shark finning. Seriously, I should not be watching The Cove.

But I was reading about the Cove Guardians--a small group of people committed to stopping the dolphin hunting in Taiji by filming the slaughter and generating international pressure against it. They take volunteers. And I was thinking today about my life and all the things I've been devoted to this whole time--my creative art, my acting, my writing. All important things. But sometimes I feel like I live my life too much for myself and not enough for the world. Living for myself means I spend a lot of time thinking about me--how I come off, how I can be more successful, how I can improve this or that thing about myself. But when you're devoted to a cause like this, it isn't about you. It's about the cause and the progress you've made, and helped others to make.

I like the idea of focusing on something outside myself and my life--of having an area of my life that is not about me. In a sense, this takes a certain kind of pressure off. A lot of people get that from having kids. I think I'd rather get it from some sort of devotion to a cause I believe in. I believe in a lot of things, very passionately--but I don't volunteer. I'm not active. I've been to exactly one Occupy Wall Street protest since I moved back to town, despite following the movement avidly. This should change. It will be difficult to find the time--but worth it.

Back From a Film Shoot

I've been shooting a film for the past week or so. It's a low-budget indie film, a story about a neat-freak, socially-awkward girl with OCD who lives with a wild party-girl roommate. Sara, my character--the OCD one--finds that she has feelings for her roommate even though they drive each other crazy--and part of her journey is coming to terms with the fact that she has feelings for another woman.

This role is something like playing Laura in The Glass Menagerie, which I did a couple of years ago in Philadelphia--it's a character who doesn't speak much, but feels a great deal and is extremely sensitive--the kind of character who has monologues with her eyes. I love this sort of part. I love the sensitivity, the significance of every indrawn breath. I love getting lost in emotions and forgetting the camera is there.

Yesterday we started filming at 10 in the morning and didn't stop til 7 AM this morning--I'm pretty sure that goes against union rules, but this job isn't union. I had the rest of Saturday off--I spent most of it napping, with a few pauses to make spring rolls and read a bit. By the time this post goes up, I'll have wrapped it on Sunday, unless something goes wrong. Which I hope nothing does. If it's OK with the director, I'll put up either clips or the whole movie once I get my copy.

Why Creativity is Like Sex

They are so eerily similar. Here's why.

Both require foreplay. Seriously, have you ever created great art without some inspiration coming first? Yeah, you can sit down and go through the motions--with practice, you can even churn out something nice from that. But you also have to be inspired. Artistic foreplay could consist of reading a book that inspires you, checking out an amazing photo gallery, or surfing on over to Concept Art and looking at the gorgeous images. It's different for everyone. But you have to put your mind in the right place.