Sometimes it takes life's darkest circumstances to energize us enough to moved. Through this experience with my dad, I've discovered how much I love to write, despite a lack of confidence in my ability. However, I continue to come back to what I would write about. It's not like I have an expertise in any one area, but I do love to watch television. I appreciate a show with good writing, even if others would frown upon my choices (like One Tree Hill). Before going to Augusta five weeks ago, I wasn't prepared to put forth any effort to write. I simply thought that if I somehow got discovered, then so be it...I'd write. My dad's response to that? I can see him now, "Nothing comes that easily Hillary. Now get off your butt and make something happen." Okay, maybe he wouldn't use those exact words, but he'd say something to that affect and then follow with a long story about his own hardships of entry level mayhem. Dad was a successful and talented writer who worked hard to get where he was, and he never let a "no" get in his way. It's not like he majored in journalism, but in the end, he was doing exactly what he loved; playing, writing, and getting paid for it.
So what if I don't have any experience in writing scripts? So what if I don't live in LA (and have no desire to for that matter)? So what if I have two small children who demand every last ounce of sweat from my brow? Would David Foster have let any of that stop him from pursuing his dream? Nope, and he didn't. In fact, if I had thought of this earlier, he would have moved mountains (if he could) to help me make my dream come true. That's the kind of man he was. In college, I was an Outdoor Education major. I mentioned to Dad that I needed to get a tent, sleeping bag, and backpack for my backpacking class. He just made it happen (thank you, by the way, to whoever his contact was at Kelty). He offered to set me with a job on an Alaskan cruise ship for a summer, but I declined (stupid, stupid Hillary) claiming I was too busy. That last sentence has absolutely nothing to do with the purpose of today's blog, but I just thought of it and wanted to mention it. The point is that I don't want to live with regrets. I have none when it comes to my dad (except not taking that Alaska opp), but that doesn't mean I don't have any in general. There are plenty, and I don't want not writing (or at least trying) to to be one of them.
So what now? I don't know. Maybe I'll take a class or workshop on script writing for television. Man, now would be the time to have some contacts; somebody to guide me in the right direction. I've been searching google, which is normally so helpful, and haven't found much of anything. I know there are probably a million opportunities right here in my area. It's not like a live in the sticks. I just need to find them, but how? Not a rhetorical question, by the way. I'm not looking for a quick fix, though I wouldn't turn one down.
In the meantime, I'll continue to bless y'all with my inner ramblings. Who knows? Maybe I'll have an epiphany, a vision, some subject I'm passionate enough about to fill the pages of a book. Until then...
I'm Not A Stalker, Just A Fan
1 year ago