• Marty

• The Tenth Man

• Network

• Altered States

• Longtime Friend of Bob Fosse

• Opinion of Prog Rock, unknown

As I adapt Dante’s Comedy, I become more of a believer in the afterlife.

God’s waiting room is not Florida, but in fact, Purgatory.

With this knowledge, I firmly believe that those who came before are inspiring and helping those of us who have come after them, and I request their intercession.

IMDB

https://m.imdb.com/name/nm0154665/?ref_=ext_shr_lnk

I have a friend who is dying.

Much like Demi Moore’s character in “The Substance,” they stupidly keep going back to the same well of junk, thinking it’s just one more hit, then they’ll be ok. It’ll make things… better.

They carry around a bag of junk, thinking it a can of Narcan, yet continue to inject and spew more of the same, only different.

They refuse any bit of help.

You can’t reason with them.

I’ve got hundreds of pictures in my house and on my phone that remind me of the great times we once had, the beauty of what was once possible.

It’s hard to watch them, seeing the innocence of their then youth, knowing what they will become because they started running with the wrong crowd who did not have their best interests at heart.

It is not the profiteers I loathe so much as the very members of that crowd who proclaimed freedom of expression and thought were possible with the junk. The crowd promptly, resoundingly, and resolutely eschewed any contradiction or voice of reason. Any semblance of balance was denigrated, belittled, besmirched.

As my friend dies, they continue to maintain their stance, encouraging others to take the junk. “Come with us! We are the light and the truth,” they maintain, “We are the only arbiters of truth!”

In the main, no one believed the crowd and put up with them as kooks, but the inmates now run the asylum. Now, sadly, the crowd won’t be ignored, nor will they go away.

There have been gurus, movements, and cults that have all proclaimed they have a method to help save my friend, but they ignore the junk, saying it is the junk that will make them stronger.

The polarized government will never provide help for anyone at any time.

They look to research that is fundamentally flawed in its initial questions for answers. The gurus proclaim the research “proves” that more junk is what’s needed to save my friend.

But I love my friend!

How do I help them?

How do I save them?

When I sold real estate, I had a trainer say: when trying to sell and logic fails, go to emotion. When emotion fails, go to logic.

That doesn’t help. I don’t want them to die. I liked Worf.

I pray to God for something to help them.

It is then that I realize the futility of prayer.

Will saying the Rosary bring the Blessed Mother’s intercession?

Will novenas to St. Jude, the patron of hopeless causes, help?

Much to the chagrin of all who pray, God is not some magic genie who grants wishes simply because one feebly asks.

The Almighty sees that which I do not. He sees the big picture.

In the end, my hope and prayer for my friend is that they get the help they need. That there are many, many years of big, beautiful pictures, from micro to macro, to cowboy, to full, to anamorphic for us both… and all of us.

Sometimes, that which flies from your fingers first is ok and that’s ok

I mentioned last week that I don’t believe in The Notion of being blocked.

It’s not because I’ve got superhuman powers, or I don’t care what I write, or even struggle.

You should see me debate a word choice for 15 minutes.

I just don’t let it consume me.

I choose to plow through.

Have you ever plopped something down on your screen, gotten a knot in your gut, thought you could make it better, spent hours hemming and hawing over it, and you can’t?

How do you know when what you’ve done is what it is?

Is that OK?

Is being OK on some things, great on others, shitty on still others, but in the end, it all works, is that OK with you?

When I talk about my writing with people, I tell them I don’t really write with my head but with my fingers.

Everything comes out of my fingers.

There are days on the day job, where I’ve been typing stuff all day that really means nothing to me, but to the audience, it means everything.

Have you ever seen the hands of Tony Banks, Billy Joel, Elton John, or any other keyboard player? Their fingers are massive.

My short, sausage-y fingers are like that from typing all these years.

If I work them too hard during the day job or doing something else, they get tired. It doesn’t matter how badly I feel I need to get something else done. I won’t.

I’m OK with that.

A programming note, I used to have a site called Wine and Movies…. We do the impossible … pairing great wine with some of the greatest movies of all time.

I’m bringing that content here to Substack and will slowly bring it back to life.

People are tired of mediocre entertainment.

People miss great films. They miss going to movie theaters.

This thing will help you remember what these great films are and encourage you to watch them.

So, keep your eyes peeled and get ready to pop some corks.

Now, get off your ass and go be brilliant!

Next, 006: Fighting Mediocrity

If you’ve ever been a print journalist, written technical documentation in an IT department, or worked on set, or really any other type of creative who is getting paid by someone else to create, you know there’s no time for writer’s or any other kind of block.

You’ve got a deadline, and you’ve got to hit it. You’ve got to get it right. You’ve got to get it first.

Miss it for no good reason, and you’re out on your ass.

You don’t get to say, “Hey boss, yeah, I know I’ve been covering this big breaking news story but uhhh, ya know, writer’s block kicked in, so I’m gonna take off a couple days and drink myself to oblivion. You’ll get your story when I sober up in a week.”

That’s not to say you don’t have to think about what you’re writing, or you won’t take long sips of coffee while you think of what to write next.

That’s not to say you won’t be stumped. That’s also not to say some days you may have nothing in the tank.

Being blocked is, ultimately, a choice. It is, as Steve Pressfield would say, Resistance.

I can hear the audible gasps… Pull out the fainting couches and smelling salts!

Here’s where I learned this …

I’m truly blessed to be from a family of journalists. My grandfather, P.J. (Pat) O’Brien, covered some of the biggest stories in the world in the 1920’s and 30’s before his life was tragically cut short in 1940 by kidney disease.

The biggest story he broke was that of the Hindenburg disaster.

He was a passenger on the October 9th, 1936 Hindenburg “Millionaire’s Flight.” This flight on Hindenburg was to show off the wonder of flying on a zeppelin. It was essentially a ten-and-a-half-hour-long fall foliage trip from Lakehurst, New Jersey, to New York City, up the Hudson River to Hartford, and finally Boston, then heading back.

Because of this, 209 days later, on May 6th, 1937, he again was at Lakehurst, this time covering the arrival of Hindenburg.

It was late. He was on a deadline and opened one of the only phone lines available to the Philadelphia Record City Desk to file his report while he waited.

At 7:25 PM, as Hindenburg erupted in flames. Into the blower, my grandfather yelled, “Stop the presses!” and began dictating his account off the top of his head to the stenographer.

Seventy minutes later, a special edition of the Philadelphia Record was on the streets of Center City and was the first account on the newswires around the globe. My grandfather’s photographer that day was Jack Snyder. His photo was actually the first photo of the explosion that the world saw.

Contrary to popular belief, the photo taken by Sam Shere is often mistaken as the first, but it wasn’t. It became popular over the past fifty years because it was used on Zeppelin 1.

In any event, I heard the Hindenburg story from my mom and grandmom when I was growing up. My grandfather received an ashtray (similar to the one pictured above, though it now lacks the glass blimp) and an ice cream dish.

They are my talismans.

One of the nuggets from this story for me has always been that my grandfather just composed it off the top of his head, and they went to press with it.

It created in me the belief that acts of writing, and creative acts in general, are just something one does without much fanfare, not something to be labored over.

I’m not saying that one doesn’t have to think about what they’re working on. Good writing and creative endeavors demand a deep, thoughtful process.

I’d submit that if one lacks something in the process, they will inevitably say, “I’m blocked.”

Look at how many stories have been written about the romantic nature of being a blocked writer. That’s pretty, isn’t it? Makes you a real writer, somehow?

At this point, I find them lackluster and sordid.

The exception is the movie “Adaptation.” That’s OK, depending on which brother you identify with. Only one of them has what I consider the best response to The Notion of being blocked.

In “The War of Art” (page 64), Pressfield tells us of a quote by prolific playwright and novelist Somerset Maugham* who, when asked about writing on a schedule or when struck by inspiration, said, “I write only when inspiration strikes. Fortunately, it strikes me every morning at nine o’clock.”

The Notion leads some creatives down the path to inaction and not doing their work.

More often than not, there is not a trip to Tuscany involved, nor the aforementioned week-long bender, nor even a trip to the shore.

Strangely enough, The Notion is that it isn’t even a proper diagnosis of the issue!

The issue is, really, you’re missing something. Maybe you do need to inject some inspiration.

Watch a movie. Go to a museum. Read a book. Build a model railroad that you take pictures of on film, then self-develop the negatives at home using an AGO processor… Something out of your chair that’s not staring at the problem.

You need to take some time to figure out what’s missing, then get back to it immediately.

The story problem you have will still be there … Unless, of course, you quit. You can always do that, but the pain of not doing your work is worse than working your way through.

For me, I don’t worry about The Notion. After thirty years of writing, I can safely say I will never be blocked.

I will always properly identify what the hell it is and deal with that.

I invite you to do the same.

Are you confident that you are a writer, cinematographer, director, or other creative?

Do you believe in yourself as a writer?

If you’ve read this far, you should.

You will only solve your story problem by working through it, not by calling it something it is not or pretending otherwise.

Now, get off your ass and go be brilliant!

Next, 005: Flying from your fingers.

*= Happy belated birthday, Somerset. He would have been 152 on January 25th.

There are times when your story is bigger than your skill set

That’s why books on craft are important

Find an old one from published before there was the internet, or better yet, before there were computers

There are times you have nothing in the tank and need to refill

There are times you need to read or watch the work of a master to feel totally inadequate

There are times you have to watch or read something truly shitty and beneath you to remind yourself that it’s all a continuum that you are part of

The person who wrote that shitty book or made that shitty movie is just like you only they did it … have you?

I don’t like works that complain about the difficulty of the creative life. It chose you for some reason. Shut up and get on with it

I do believe Resistance is a thing that must be beat back at every opportunity lest it kill whatever artistic dreams you have

Like any great monster, Resistance can only be beaten today. Tomorrow’s monster is tomorrow’s problem. Deal with it when and if tomorrow and/or the monster shows up

Believe in a deity, something bigger than yourself, and it’s not your kids… don’t ever put anything you do on your kids … that’s too much of a burden for people younger than you who have a smaller toolbox than you to deal with shit

Believe in a deity … They will help you through

You are part of the continuum … there are those who came before who are no longer here who are still part of the continuum … invoke their intercession on your behalf… they are happy to oblige

Creativity is mystical

There is a cosmic radio station. If you don’t know what that is, read every one of Steve Pressfield’s books on creativity and the creative life until you find it… Read them in order … by the time you get to it, you will finally be able to accept the truth of the cosmic radio station

• The War of Art

• Do The Work

• The Warrior Ethos

• Turning Pro

• The Authentic Swing

• Nobody Wants to Read Your Sh*t:

• The Artist’s Journey

• Put Your Ass Where Your Heart Wants to Be

• Govt Cheese a memoir

• The Daily Pressfield

Follow Steve Gutenberg on Instagram he’s awesome

Good enough and done is better than striving for perfection, let it go and art is never done

Read Bird by Bird by Anne Lamont

Read The Artists Way by Julia Cameron

We’re all getting older it blows

Read it’s never too late to begin again also by Julia Cameron

Was this for you or me?

More in 004: A Question of Confidence coming soon …

Goal setting is particularly frustrating for me.

Why?

The question of why is inevitably asked.

• Why is this thing important to you?

• You gotta know why you’re going after something to give yourself a “reason to do it.

In “Do the Work,” p. 68-69 (Hardback) and “The Daily Pressfield” p. 509 (Hardback), Steve Pressfield put it like this:

“Why do you want it?”

1. For the babes (or the dudes)

2. The money

3. For fame

4. Because I deserve it

5. For power

6. To prove my old man (or ex-spouse, mother, teacher, coach)

wrong.

7. To serve my vision of how life/mankind ought to be

8. For fun or beauty

9. Because I have no choice

If you checked 8 or 9, you get to stay on the island.

I’ve been trying to figure out my why for decades.

I can honestly say, I don’t know my why. I’m miserable if I don’t? Nothing else fascinates and delights me?

Despite failing English 10 twice and English 12, and having to take both in summer school after graduation, writing is the only thing I actually know how to do?

Because I have to, alright?

Fundamentally, I’m really OK with the unknown and that which is unknowable.

I don’t specifically know how the sewer system works, but that doesn’t prevent me from using it. I’ve seen all the parts. I even know people who operate treatment plants ( BTW, yes, even they say they have a 💩 job). What do I know about it, really, beyond the flush?

The point is, I don’t have to know everything about something to participate. Even for something as intimate and important as goals.

I would argue that the most important things in life are both unknown and unknowable. It’s living in the mystery that gives us something to do.

All this is not to say, don’t have goals and don’t pursue stuff. No, that’s silly.

Our purpose in life is to do stuff. That’s all. Do good. Some stuff will work out. Some won’t. Others still will be meh.

All of it is OK

I’ve been a professional writer for… let’s see, last year was my 30th year.

I’m still enthralled by the act, yet I still feel like I know nothing about it.

I’m still fascinated by other people’s ideas on how to craft stories of all types. I have all sorts of books on writing, some are close to 100 years old … back when writing truly was wrought!

I’ve been studying The Story Grid for the past six or seven years. It’s the most mind-blowing story structure I’ve ever come across.

When I finally followed my passion and started writing plays, I found I had an ear for dialogue. That changed my technical writing because it allowed me to be more conversational.

When I became a filmmaker and learned how to work a camera and edit digital video, my writing changed because I finally realized that what all the writing gurus had been saying about “you create the story you want and don’t worry about budget” was both a total lie and the longest, most difficult way to create a PDF file that hopefully wouldn’t get lost if a hard drive seized up!

Yes, that is the modern equivalent of “scripts piling up in a drawer.”

The point of all this is, I think, if you can actually come up with a reason why you do something, good on ya. Go with God, and may the road rise to meet you.

But if you can’t, and what you’re doing is this undefinable compulsion that causes no harm to you or others, you’re going to be alright. Figure out what you want to do and do it. The road will rise to meet you as well.

The why is unimportant.

What’s important is doing it.

This is a new copy of another post from back in June. I didn’t know what I was doing with Substack then, not sure I do now, but no one saw it, so …. here ya go.

I find myself reflecting on beginnings as I embark on the latest shift in my platform endeavors.

Since the dawn of the internet 30+ years ago, I’ve had any number of websites, newsletters, blogs, and anything else that came along.

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Most of them were very niche, specializing in reports, rants, tips, and techniques about various technologies.

They almost always required learning a host of technologies to talk about other technologies.

I tended to shy away from the simple way of doing something because, for some reason, I felt as if it was cheating or somehow not real if I didn’t take a long, arduous path.

I freely admit that they weren’t set up as profit centers, but rather as Feynman Technique exercises that I had hoped would catch on or lead to something else.

As a result, I got really good at diving into the latest and greatest. I also became really good at teaching people about gear, gadgets, and software. I was a natural. It was easy.

Most were folks who had no interest in learning anything about “these g**-d***, m*****-f****** stupid things,” as they often called them.

I never thought a 78-year-old grandma would use language like that… But she had to become a grandma somehow…

The goal with any of my gigs was to make cash to fund my creative projects, initially music, then writing, and eventually films and theater.

Life then said hello, derailed that which I dreamed, and I stopped completely.

I didn’t know what it was called then, but I now know it is what Steve Pressfield calls “Resistance.”

I ignored my call to the creative life for years. I dabbled with various blogs, nothing to write home about. The call, though, nagged at me.

I’m from a family of writers, so why wouldn’t it?

It got so bad that I eventually took a couple of English and theater classes at a community college. My English instructor wrote on my final paper something to the effect of, “A++. You’re a good writer. Now go get yourself published!”

Now, despite having a journalist grandfather who was the actual guy who broke the story of the Hindenburg explosion to the world, a mother, a father, and both sisters who were all writers, I barely graduated from high school.

My father died in the fall of my sophomore year, and I became “attitude boy,” and not in a good way.

I failed English 10 twice, English 12 once, and had to repeat both in summer school AFTER I graduated. I can still hear my mother saying, “Oh my Gawd, what is wrong with you. It’s your native tongue!”

To say I had trepidation about returning to college after all those years would be an understatement. It was, however, a decision that would change my life. That English instructor changed my life.

I wrote my first play in theater class. That instructor gave what I’d come to discover is the worst writing advice one can ever give … “write what you know.”

That fall at Burlington County College, those two courses, changed my life.

Since then, I realized my boyhood dream of becoming a writer, photographer, and filmmaker. I’ve written short plays, multi-act stage plays, short films, feature films, documentaries, training videos, and numerous promotional materials for non-profits.

I have planned and shot single-camera shoots, as well as solo-run multiple two- and three-camera shoots, recorded sound on all of them, edited, color-corrected, and delivered the final products.

Somewhere in there, I became a BlackMagic Design DaVinci Resolve Trainer, passing all five end-user tests AND all five significantly more complex trainer tests, even though only three were needed.

I am nothing if not a craftsman. I love the intricacies and minutiae of writing, cameras, and software. I love rummaging through my gear closet to find the little bit or bob that went missing, and if I don’t find it, inventing another way to do what I need to do.

I love the producing, entrepreneurial, and business side of it.

I love it all!

For the past eight years, I’ve run Raindance New York, hosting a variety of filmmaker events and seminars, and, for the past three years, an annual short film screening in New York City.

I fully believe in and am committed to NonDē, Ted Hope’s Non-dependent cinema ecosystem movement.

I am nothing if not optimistic. I will never say “we’re in a unique time in the film business” or “Everything is imploding.”

It always is.

My hope for this industry and life stems from Billy Joel’s “Summer, Highland Falls,” about 50 years ago. Back then, everyone was saying how horrible things were and, near as I can tell, they never stopped saying that. (The video isn’t hot, but the audio is!)

Even though the major studios have abandoned theatrical distribution, and God-knows what will become of the WBD-Netflix-Skydance thing, I believe the overwhelming evidence is that the global market is still there. All that is needed is for people to create good movies and films, and put them in theaters; the audience will show up.

The film market is now very much open. I see it as shooting fish in a barrel. All we need is some moxie, entrepreneurial spirit, good films, and, well, cash to create an end-to-end NonDē infrastructure.

There are distinct differences between “making content” 🤮, making movies, making art, and crafting artistic and transcendent films that are also commercially viable AND entertaining.

As William Goldman said seven times in Adventures in the Screen Trade, “Nobody knows anything.”

I am no different, but it has been said to me that I know a lot of stuff about creating stuff. You might call me “the fountain of useless knowledge at the intersection of art and commerce™️”.

We can look at all the bits and bobs that are out there and figure out our own path forward.

In many respects, I’m bubbling over and have to organize my thoughts. This is my attempt to do that.

It’s my sincerest hope you find something useful here.