For anyone else trying to do something similar, or thinking about it, I'm writing this in attempts to share my story. There's no right or wrong way to live, but there are strange choices and journeys. This is mine. I'm 26, single, female, and a struggling writer wannabe in LA.
I live in a 3 bedroom apartment with 2 roommates and drive a car from 1995 with no working radio or air conditioning. Isn't chasing the dream brave and glamorous? Whatever. Plenty of people are a lot worse off and a lot less hopeful. I get a kick out of doing something that not many people get to do; its just that the road less traveled is getting awful crowded.
When I first moved to LA, I was working in tv and film production in the art department. When people hear that I work as an Art Director they follow up with "What does that mean?" or "What does an Art Director do?" Yesterday I was helping my roommate Ethan clean up the kamikaze bookshelf that, after 6 months of service holding up books and glass vases and candelabras (he's a queer Cure-listening, self-deprecating artist-type) decided its time was over and plummeted to the floor, shattering everything in its wake. So while giving him a hand cleaning up the disaster, I stumbled upon a book called "What an Art Director Does." I'm not giving any answers here; its beside the point. I'm just sharing that its an awful, thankless, and torturous position that no one in the real world knows about. Its especially miserable to work in the low budget and independent world of production. After getting shit on for over a year, I'm moving on.
It was only supposed to be temporary anyway; something to do to pay the bills while I write in my free time. The problem was, while working 18 hour days and fighting off the flu and despair in between gigs, there really wasn't much productive time to dedicate to writing anything but angst-ridden poetry that no one wants to read. So I stopped. I did, I just stopped.
I took the little money I had and visited my dysfunctional family in South Florida (more on them another time) and when I got back, I decided to get a full time job with benefits where I can regularly work on writing. So I took the first thing I could find that would cover dental, vision, and adderol. I start tomorrow. I should be able to do most of my writing while I'm there, too. From what I've seen, the office isn't that busy.
I've got 2 feature screenplays that are badly in need of a rewrite, but I'm working on it! Now I might be able to finish them by the end of the summer and look for an literary agent. In the meantime, I'm looking into volunteering at an organic local farm once a week. I want to connect to the actual earth, not just this soulless wasteland masquerading as reality. I also want to learn how to garden so that I can make my own. Of course I'll need a yard first. One thing at a time.
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