Two weeks ago, I officially completed Second City's Writing Program. I would have told you all sooner, but I was busy sleeping off hangovers, caring for children to earn my livelihood, and just barely surviving the worst flu I have known since my ninth birthday. Also, I wrote a completely outdated review of Space Jam. So really, I've been swamped.So it took a year, about $2,000, and roughly twenty-one homemade blood packets constructed by yours truly, but it is finally finished. We had a good four-week run of our sketch show, Post-Traumatic Sketch Disorder, with more or less full houses and only one really weak night due to a completely lame audience and not at all because of our killer show. Just to be clear. It was a very interesting experience and I learned a lot. Among that "lot," (I'm such a wonderful writer with my beautiful words) my top three personally most valued lessons have been as follows:
1) STRUCTURE: For those of you who know me the best, I know what you must be saying. "But Kalah, your effervescent style and pizzazz could never possibly be reigned in. Walls and guidelines could never hold you. You must fly or die! Most surely die!!" But I am writing today to assure you that one can be both a bit of a willy nilly free-spirit and write fully thought out and coherent story lines. Hear me now, dreamers: structure is not just for the task-oriented anymore!
2) REWRITING: I hate it. Man, oh boy do I hate it. Rewriting and editing and multiple drafts. I shudder at the very verbiage. As, I'm sure, is clearly apparent in my blogs. Truth time? More often than not, I don't even read through what I've written once I've finished. I'm just really, really terrible at it. It's probably why I have a tendency to collect editors the way most people collect shot glasses or useless hotel key cards (hey, I get it. Cheap souvenirs!). I figure that if one editor does part of my job, then several will get it all done. Eh? No, you're right. That's a stupid way to expect anything good to come into existence. And so, over the course of an expensive year, the instructors and classmates at Second City did their damnedest to drill into me the importance (and dare I say, magic?) of revisions. And just as any hopeful creative must eventually learn, all it really took to accept a normally loathed step in a process was to figure out which elements work best with my ten-second attention span work ethic. And that golden ticket turned out to be peer pressure. Sharing my work and opening it up to scrutiny acts as something of a creative smörgåsbord for me. It's a dozen creative decisions, directions and suggestions laid out for me to choose from and try out. Instead of straining to think of just one little change to improve a piece, I am graciously given an entire page of possibilities to test out. It's fantastic! At times terribly overwhelming and frustrating that I can't go in every great direction offered to me, but still fantastic. Which brings me to my third and final most valued lesson learned.
3) COLLABORATION: Before this program, the closest I had come to collaboration (aside from the dreaded classroom group projects - the stuff panic attacks and stress eating are made of) was my friend Brittany and I trying to write our totally brilliant screenplay together. We got as far as buying the beer and making the frozen pizza before plugging our computers in to sit and fully charge while we distracted ourselves with how funny we find one another. It was a great night, and I still fully stand by my claim of it being a truly brilliant screenplay. Though the world will likely never know. But collaboration was literally all we were in a room together for three hours a week to do. It just had to be done. There was no way around it and we were painfully aware of the lack of escape. Each person in this class brought their own incredible talent to the table. But even when everyone is supremely awesome, it is an extreme challenge to get nine different flavors to make a savory dish. It was a big group and a big struggle, but I spent the time trying my hardest not to take any of the experience for granite. It could not have been a better exercise in compromise, comparison, and working for the good of a group rather than just the individual. To train ourselves to be perceptive of arising themes, transition challenges and recognize how a scene about a family on vacation and one about a wacky game show are much more similar than the initial view would suggest, was valuable training which will no doubt show up again and again in the writing project we take on from here on out. So I guess what I'm saying here is, we should totally write something together, guys. I can do it now, I swear!
And that, as they say, is that. All done. I've got a slightly wrinkled certificate hanging precariously in a Dollar Store frame and an authentic pleather Second City notebook to prove it. I was going to post pictures of these things, but this entire process has made me terribly lazy. And it's just as well, since that frame appears to be constructed for a one-time hanging only. What's next, you may be asking? Well, the world is my writing-on-the-side-but-certainly-not-for-my-livelihood-anytime-soon-oyster. Maybe a few more writing classes a la carte, should I find enough change in the couch cushions. Or perhaps a women's writing residency program on some distant island? But most likely a lot of reading. Because as much as I love words, taking them in so much easier than putting them out. And suddenly, a resounding, collective fit can be heard from my collection of editors. Okay, okay. I'll write. Sheesh.
