Taking risks

Creative risk taking is essential to success in any goal where the stakes are high. Thoughtless risks are destructive, of course, but perhaps even more wasteful is thoughtless caution which prompts inaction and promotes failure to seize opportunity — Gary Ryan Blair

As an artist — be it writer, painter, musician — creative risk taking is essential if you want to grow regardless of how high the stakes may or may not be. Figuring out how to do something is one thing. Taking what you’ve learned and throwing yourself into something that allows you to use that skill set in something you haven’t experienced before, is altogether exciting and terrifying.

In my own little way, I’ve always been a risk taker. Not the kind that puts you in mortal danger, unless you consider horseback riding life-threatening. I’m referring to the kind that takes you out of your comfort zone, where you discover something new about yourself.

Someone once joyfully (and I mean that in the most positive way) described me as having a reckless confidence. Reckless, not thoughtless. There’s a difference. In all my time here on this blue planet, no one had ever described me that way. I can be a lot of things. And I know I have been described as a lot of things. And I own all of it. And I really love owning reckless confidence.

Anyway, the risk taker in me has always been there. It only shows up when an opportunity or idea (good and bad) seizes my attention. I’d like to think these days that the opportunities or ideas are more good than bad. I’ve had my share of bad ideas when I was younger.

Without a doubt, my risk taking has unnerved some family members and friends. But only because they’re looking out for me. More often than not, my risk taking is a source of entertainment for these folks (my friends, in particular)… once I get around to informing them about what I’ve done.

Writing has allowed me, and is allowing me, to creatively take risks. Writing has opened doors to opportunities and interesting ideas that would have never appeared if I was doing something else.

The latest risk (it’s more of a challenge, quite honestly) which is to try screenwriting has me excited. I’ve been reading up on the subject, doing a little research and finding valuable resources before I start barreling into it, before I have to figure out how to juggle two writing projects. This isn’t a case of finish one and start on the other. Something tells me I need to work on both of them concurrently.

As I do the research, I sincerely believe working on the screenplay will only enhance my work as a novelist. That is exciting to me. I live for this kind of shit. I can’t wait to go through the process. Could be one helluva ride. It will definitely add to, and sharpen my skill set. It will make me a better writer, a better storyteller.

Start up the rollercoaster. Let’s go!

The future is now

I like to begin every screenplay with a burst of delusional self-confidence. It tends to fade pretty quickly, but (for me, at least) there doesn’t seem to be any other way to start writing a script — Michael Arndt

What have I gotten myself into?

Just when I thought I could get back to working on my writing project and get back to my two lead characters (the ‘boys’) after completing a non-related commitment, I find myself with another writing project.

This one is courtesy of the monthly-ish writing group get-together that was held on Saturday. Everyone in the group has been instructed to work on something of their choice, something short — it could be a short story, short non-fiction, short genre-of-your-choice — whatever you want as long as it’s short. This is a project we will be working on over the next five or six (or is it four or five?) workshops. The aim is to have something publishable at the end, or at least be on your way to creating something you can publish.

Everyone has been given their marching orders. Each project is as different and varied as the individuals in the group.

So, what’s my marching order? Develop a screenplay for a short film. Yeah, you read that correctly. A screenplay for a short film. And maybe get it produced.

What have I gotten myself into?

My mentor had the screenplay idea pop up in his head last week. He thought it was something I could sink my teeth into, given my skill set and my tendency to think cinematically when I write.

Truthfully, I’m not going into this kicking and screaming. It’s always been something I knew I would eventually tackle. And before my mentor mentioned that I should try writing a screenplay, the idea had been running around in my mind more often than it should have in recent weeks. It’s something I honestly believe will play a role in what I do in the future.

Apparently, the future is now. Man, it sneaks up on you like a little bratty shit.

I have research to do for the screenplay which is on top of the research I’m already doing for my main writing project. I’m not sure if there are enough hours in the day to do what I need to do.

Two words come to mind. Time management.

I do have an idea for the screenplay. It’s only been shared with the writing group as a one sentence description followed by an explanation of the idea’s origin. In the 48 hours since the workshop, it has evolved with more details. I still need to flush it out further before I can start writing. So now, the writing group is in the dark about how the idea they heard at the workshop will turn into a screenplay. Nobody knows what the story will be except for my best friend. I haven’t told her what it will be but she’ll find out soon enough.

I admit that I’m a little stumped as to how I can juggle two writing projects at the same time. They are two different styles of writing, two different ways of thinking although I think they compliment each other. I don’t think it’s a bad thing to stretch my creative brain and imagination in this way. I do believe my fiction writing projects will benefit in the long run with the introduction of screenwriting. How could it not?

So now, I have a novel and the makings of a screenplay staring at me. Splitting time between the two is going to be interesting. As it stands, the boys from the novel are a little miffed at the thought of having to share me with the three characters from the screenplay. Well… they might be more than a little miffed. After all, it had been just me and the boys. They’ve enjoyed monopolizing my attention. Maybe a little too much.

Now it seems they are a tad jealous and worried about losing my attention. I get the feeling there might be a donnybrook in the near future between my boys and the screenplay characters. I can tell you the two females from the screenplay can handle themselves and are quite capable of playing dirty when necessary. They are very aware the boys play rough. They’re evenly matched but I have a funny feeling the boys would win with only the skin of their teeth.

Regardless, the donnybrook cannot happen. I have to figure out how to keep everyone — and that includes me — happy.

Oh man, it looks like I’ll be busy for the rest of the year with the two writing projects. This is going to be crazy. But I have a funny feeling I’m going to love it because that’s how I roll.

What have I gotten myself into?

The kind of elixir I enjoy

I see only one requirement you have to have to be a director or any kind of artist: rhythm. Rhythm, for me, is everything. Without rhythm, there’s no music. Without rhythm, there’s no cinema. Without rhythm, there’s no architecture — Alejandro González Iñarritu

Considering there is a lot on my plate around this time of year, discovering the music of Italian pianist and composer Ludovico Einaudi is the last thing I should be indulging in.

But here I am, listening to him on Spotify when I can, wherever I can. The man has a profile there and he compiled a ‘Best of’ of his work. I cannot tell you how his compositions have added fuel to the creative fire that burns relentlessly in my soul. Not that the fire will ever be in danger of burning out.

I am forever humbled and blown away when my senses, combined with an already overactive imagination, are stimulated to the point that new scenes, ideas and concepts for my writing start throwing themselves into an already volatile mix of storytelling elements ready to transform into a novel. Christ, that was a long sentence. Maybe too long. Well, fuck it, I’m leaving it. That’s what Einaudi’s work has done to me.

He’s managed to seduce my imagination and, in turn, seduced me. That’s one way to burrow into my heart. Music. Talent. Mad skillz. Passion. The images his music evokes are cinematic in scope and nature. Just the kind of elixir I enjoy with unbridled want.

Einaudi’s work has been described as meditative and cinematic. I discovered that description somewhere online after a couple of days of listening the music. It had me at cinematic. That would explain the images freely swimming in my head — the chaotic kaleidoscope of shapes and colours swirling in my mind, waiting for me to dip my hand in to pull them out and arrange them into something beautiful and hypnotic.

What is so enticing and engaging about Einaudi’s work? For starters, he has simple leitmotifs that he uses to build complicatedly beautiful layers of sound between the piano and strings. His solo piano work is stunning, too. But the sound of strings and piano together is tantalizing to my ears. I’m not sure what it is about that combination of instruments, but whatever it is, Einaudi uses it to full effect. His musical sensibility is so alarmingly in tune with the way the creative part of my brain wants to function. Kinda a scary, to be honest. But so thrilling at the same time.

I think discovering Einaudi’s work is another sign that the storytelling ambitions I aspire to, are the right ones for the tools and skill set I’ve been trying to hone and sharpen in the last several months.

While I tend to my book design commitments, the creative fire will continue to burn. At low intensity, for now. But there are things I can do, such as re-examine the trajectory of the characters and make adjustments where necessary. Let those thoughts and ideas grow.

Once the commitments are done for another year, I will go back to stoke the creative fire so it can burn as brilliantly as Einaudi’s compositions.