I laughed because of the way he said it – to “tell the blog” – like I have to sit the Internet down for a we-need-to-talk.
But when I thought about it – about the whole, long story that precedes the whole longer story I’m about to begin, I realized it all did come back to this blog. All of it. And for once, I’m not over-exaggerating.
The whole, long story begins with Pierson-made-me-start-this-blog-against-my-will and ends with I’m-moving-to-Los-Angeles-on-September-1st-to-pursue-my-creative-pursuits.
An early wink (slash punch) came from David – who is as critical as they come and 3 x that when it comes to me. He told me I had something good going with this blog but I was wasting it by only writing every so often. “You need to commit to three days a week,” he said, “or don’t do it at all.”
I listen to David (unless it has anything to do with relationships) – so I did it from that day on, and he was right; it took my writing from a dabbling to a body of work.
Then Nora started reading and, like the born producer she is, saw television material in my 500-word rambles. I told her I had no idea what it took to develop a television show. She ignored me, and for the next six months we worked on a treatment that ended up in the hands of a production company who optioned this idea – 20-Nothings – for television development.
It was around that same time that a name I hadn’t seen in 10+ years dropped back into my life.
“Kimberly Kaye has sent you a message on Facebook”
Kim Kaye was my colleague (?) in Brownie Troope 180 who was randomly re-introducing herself as a fan of this blog and (God wink) the new co-founder of a Manhattan-based theater company, Effable Arts. “We want you to write a one-act play for us,” she told me over dirt-cheap Thai in the Theater District. “I don’t know how to write a one-act play,” I said. “It’s not hard,” she told me. Kim has a B.A. in creative writing with a concentration in theater. I Googled “how to write a one-act play.”
Four months later my first one-act play was staged at an off-off (off?) Broadway theater, and I knew my life would never be the same. Dramatic, I know, but my friend Paul told me that, “some things require some drama, girl.”
If you asked me when I was 10 years old if I loved to write I would have said yes. If you asked me if it was my passion – the thing I want to make a life out of – I would have asked what that means.
If you told me at 18, hey, you should pursue writing for film and television, I would have said, “um, thank you,” but thought, “um, you’re crazy.” At 18 I still loved to write, but the idea of turning that enjoyment into that specific dream just wasn’t in my frame of reference. Same goes for my college years when writing became even more a part of my life (the website friends and I launched, the college TV show we produced) – but even then I felt like a girl who wrote, not a writer. There’s a difference, and that difference is entirely mental.
Which is why I remember so distinctly the first time someone told me I was “a real writer.” It was Blair Singer (a playwright who also spend some time writing on Weeds), and we were sitting down over beers at a bar in Brooklyn that looked just like a bar in Brooklyn would (Blair’s line). I’d been set up with Blair to discuss him writing for the potential 20-Nothings TV show. Blair was far more interested in mentoring me to the point of being able to write it all myself. “I read your stuff,” he told me, “and this is what you should be doing with your life.”
That was the first time I thought, I can do this. I want to do this or, it would be incredible to be able to do this had come months before. I’d transitioned from developing-and-writing-content-is-a-dream to developing-and-writing-content-is-my-dream through the Effable experience and my work with Nora, but I was stuck in that place so many people get stuck. “I can’t do that. Come on. That’s crazy.”
But as if answering the in-my-head-objections with in-my-face interruptions you’d have to be an idiot to ignore, the universe said, “Yeah, it’s crazy. Deal with it.”
A middle school friend who’d landed at an LA talent agency came back into my life and helped me navigate that world, another friend put me in touch with an editor at The Daily Beast and then an editor at Marie Claire who assigned me articles that drew bigger attention, my Effable circle became a source of game-changing inspiration and lead to my writing The Hook-up Conversations. And then one incredible woman at one well-respected management and production company sent me an unsolicited e-mail that changed my life.
How’s that for dramatic?
For the past 11 months I’ve been working with Lucinda and the team at that management company to develop my writing portfolio to the point of pitching my own material for sale. I have also been working to develop my understanding of the previous sentence. And Lucinda, with tireless patience and fairy-godmother-like skill has been working on convincing me that this is real, I can do it, and making the move West is the best next step.
Which is where I’m-moving-to-Los-Angeles-on-September-1st comes in. Though, if you ask my mother, I’m not moving – I’m just, “going to live somewhere else for a little while.” (apparently we’re all writers)
There comes a time in the exploration of any desire, dream or passion where you have to ask yourself, how bad do I want it?
Bad enough to leave my current, great job? Bad enough to move away from the city I love more than any other place I’ve ever been? Bad enough to leave my family and some of my closest friends? Bad enough to risk failing?
In one sentence: I’m a very lucky girl blessed with very loving mentors who pushed me through all the open doors so I could make the decision to walk through this big one.
I can’t promise that I’m fully ready for what’s next or sure of what I even want in the end, but I will promise you this – the blog is going no where.
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Sounds so exciting and scary all at the same time! Keep us posted!
Fabulous.
Thats fantastic! Congratulations!
If you need a Costume Designer let me know
Good for you! I’m 27 now and left LA at 25 to work on my writing in Austin.
Your writing is fab and it sounds like things are on the up for you. I wish you all the best and can’t wait to see your name more and more.
P.S. I love Kimberly though I’ve never met her. If it’s the same Kimberly we’re talking about. How many Kim Kayes are there? Tell us Kim!
24-hour bodegas are something that I really, really miss about loving in Philadelphia. They don’t exist on the West coast
Congrats, and good luck to you!
Jessie “Nailed It!” Rosen comes through in the clutch yet again.
California is excited to have you here!
It’s ME, Hipstercrite. It’s ME! I am the one and only Kim Kaye.
Except for Kimberly Kaye Terry, the ethnic erotic fiction writer. No, I am not making that up. Google “Big Spankable Asses” if you don’t believe me. That woman is the bane of my existence.
You, and Jessie, make my writing world more bearable. You inspire me.
Congratulations. From your work here, I can tell it is well-deserved. Good luck!
Congrats!
-Mkane
Congratulations!! This is so exciting.
This is really inspiring! I read your blog all the time (and write one on similar subject matter: http://www.datingmryuck.com/blog/). Also if you need any tips for life in LA, I live in Venice. It’s the BEST. Good luck with everything!
Jessie, I just realized that I’ve learned two important things from you.
1) It’s OK to write a blog that doesn’t have pretty picutres- if it’s GOOD.
2) It’s OK to write a show that consists of monologs (Yes, I spell it without the ue on purpose. The English language needs to get its shit together.) about common subjects- if it’s GOOD.
So thanks!
Good luck!!! I can’t wait to read about it here. I’m going in the opposite direction (TO New York) in a few months for much the same reasons, and it’s terrifying. I love how you’ve articulated your thoughts about pursuing dreams – it’s just what I needed to read at the moment.