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Friday, 30 October 2009

When you allow yourself to be who you are.

I call myself a writer, but often you will find me working some job I loath, or doing some camera work, or arguing with people in the street, or justifying myself to people -- you know how it is-- it's like, I got talking to this waitress the other day, and I said "how long have you worked here?" and she said "two years. But I do Real Estate too.." I could totally sympathise with what she was doing; which was feeling the need to validate herself as more than a waitress (which I never doubted, by my question could well have seemed judgemental.) It's the same with writers all across the world. People say "oh wow, you're really great at sweeping the streets," and the writers say "thanks, but there's also some producer who is maybe interested in reading my script!"

So, I live in London. But right now, I am in New York. I am doing only the things I love. I am Directing a short film I wrote, I am writing a feature screenplay, and I have a film in a festival over here. When I'm not writing, I am hanging out with friends and meeting cool new people. That weight of expectation, validation and responsibility has been lifted. I get to be a successful writer - I get to be exactly who I want to be, who I sometimes am. Hell, I get to be who I really am.
And it's so important - I recommend it. Whether it means jumping on a plane, or whether it means renting a hotel room local to you and hiding out there and writing... find a way to do what you do, to be who you are. Find a place; be it a physical place or a mental place inside yourself - and be who you are. Be a writer. Believe it, feel it and be it. You'll feel a lot younger and a lot more inspired. All you have to do is give yourself permission, and find a world where you don't need to justify yourself - where you're freed from creative oppression both internal and external.

You can currently find me walking around the streets of New York, fuelling my imagination for many future projects.

Care to share?

Thursday, 29 October 2009

Best movie theater in NYC?

Let me know your thoughts, I plan to check them all out. I do like the Angelika, even if you hear a train going by every three minutes! The IFC is great too - seemingly perfect sound and visuals.

Where else?

Care to share?

Sunday, 25 October 2009

I have nothing to say right now.

So, lately, I've had nothing to say. Don't worry, I'm still interested in blogging, massively, it's just that - when it comes to content, I just don't have much to say right now. I'm watching a lot of movies, but most of the time my reaction is 'That was cool,' and it's all I have to say about it.

I don't like when people write just because they're writers. I always think it helps when people have something to say. So I'm gonna hold off writing too much, until something spins in my head or my heart that wants me to commit some words to your screens.

I'll tell you what I did do today though, I sat in Central Park and read 'The Apartment' (the screenplay) - which was great fun, I recommend it.

Anyways, I'll have more to say about many things soon I'm sure. Meanwhile, make sure you check out the new Michael Moore documentary "Capitalism: A Love Story' - it really blew me away. A big improvement on his last few films.

Care to share?

Monday, 19 October 2009

But is the film any good?

All Directors make bad films. Of course, they don't plan to do it. If you'd asked Kevin Smith at the time, he'd have told you that 'Jersey Girl' was going to be his best ever film. In fact, he's on record as saying that very thing. It's one of the sad facts of life that our favorite Directors will, from time to time, make films like '1941' and 'Elizabethtown'. It's just the way it goes.

The same, of course, is true for upcoming filmmakers. "This is going to be my best one yet!" you tell everybody. And it'd better be, because you've only got about one film left before everyone says "actually, yeah, you really need to get a real job." Even the greatest young film directors are going to go through the same patterns as Kevin Smith, Quentin Tarantino, etc-- there are going to be duds. This can be quite a painful thing, especially when you haven't yet made the masterpiece you're destined to make.

Take comfort in the fact that, whoever your favorite Director is, they've made bad films, apart from Billy Wilder.

Care to share?

Tuesday, 13 October 2009

100.

Talking of milestones, my last post was my 100th.

I remember sitting on a train earlier in the year, feeling like a project was about to begin. I wanted a space to write more-- the idea of a blog came up. The idea of an anonymous film blog was certainly appealing. I thought also about an anonymous sex blog, but would only have had enough content for one post.

Thank you for all being here. My hope was to build a little community - to engage on a level with each other that I often find lacking from the industry. I feel we are building that, one follower at a time. You guys really have become my friends - and I am excited whenever you respond. I've been really busy filming over the past few weeks.. that's nearly over, and I'll be making sure I get more involved in all of your blogs again, and help promote and share many more wonderous and often obscure blogs.

Thanks for sticking around.

Kid

Care to share?

Mixing The Elements, A Post About Not Posting.

I've had this Clint Eastwood blog floating around my brain since Sunday. I wrote a few paragraphs on blogger last night, and I wrote a few paragraphs on my iPhone today when heading towards Camden on the tube. Neither of them really do it any justice. I also wanted to write on the topic of the loneliness of being a creative, and how to gain support to curb that loneliness. I also wanted to write a really epic blog about my wishes to have a new attitude towards the gatekeepers who many upcoming writers/directors/moaners think are squashing their dreams, i.e. "They only want Megan Fox with her tits out, they don't want my little arthouse film about environmentalists which is filmed entirely in pitch black." I want to write about many of these things but also --- I really don't have the energy.

Part of this lack of energy is that I am very tired. Another part, perhaps, is that I haven't quite formulated my ideas for these blogs. So I figured, rather than wait it out; I would blog about not being ready to blog, and maybe I would touch upon some or none of those topics. And then I'd see where we end up.

Clint Eastwood is awesome, by the way. Did you know that? Like, he's really awesome. We really need to start appreciating that he is a truly, truly masterful film director. I'm not sure anyone else out there is currently as consistent as he is right now. He's making some beautiful, thought-provoking films. 'Mystic River,' 'Million Dollar Baby,' 'Changeling,' 'Gran Torino.' Incredible. Clint is awesome.


I think the most amazing thing about his films is how steady they are. They're just completely steady. I don't even know what I mean. Actually, I do know what I mean, I mean they're steady. If I didn't know I wouldn't have written that they're steady. I also wonder if the word steady has been used this many times in a paragraph before, but I am aware that if I keep wondering about this we will steadily fall off topic. Not that this post has any topic.

Please Buy/Rent/Steal a copy of 'Mystic River' and skip to 1hour 22minutes in. It's Sean Penn sitting on the steps of his house, as Tim Robbins is talking to him. Penn's daughter had died a few days back, or about an hour back -- depending on whether you follow DVD running time or actual-in-the-story-time, and Robbins says something to Penn about how his daughter looked really happy (just before she got killed) -- and Penn does this look, and then he does this thing with his lip--- and he looks away and stops himself from crying. This little moment, this little look, is probably the best acting I've ever seen. And it's just a moment. But it makes sense to me that it happened in a Clint Eastwood film.. because he really gives his actors the space to be themselves. To find themselves in a role. Despite the concise and steady nature of all of his films (especially in the last ten years) there's a real freedom to them; which allows the actors to find themselves in their characters. It's incredible. I learned something the other day that I didn't know -- that Clint doesn't say 'action' - he just mumbles something along the lines of, "whenever you're ready." I think that's brilliant, and something I am going to do on future shoots. How can you expect an actor to be natural and truthful in a scene about his dead daughter when someone yells 'Action!'

'Million Dollar Baby' is a great film. It's tone, it's style, it's rhythm, the way the relationships build between the three main characters, played by Clint, Morgan Freeman and Hilary Swank arereally amazing to see. I'm sure the script was great, but the genius is in the direction and the acting. So much is said with looks, or without looks, with words, and without words. It's all in the space between the characters. I have a feeling that Clint could take a script about a guy deciding which paint brush to buy, and he'd be able to make it incredibly profound.

I just realized that by giving myself permission to talk about anything other than my chosen topics, it freed me to write a load about Clint, after all. Thereby is lesson #1 today regarding creativity --- don't let your mind get in the way. Free yourself, give yourself permission to do other stuff, and maybe it'll come after-all.

I was slightly tempted to edit this post and make it a nice, clean, Clint-a-thon, but I kind of like how it's unfolded in this random way.

I went to a Richard Curtis masterclass the other day at the Royal Haymarket theatre the other day. He had some great advice for writers, and for actors. And I've forgotten it all. But let me try to remember................ Actually, I'm popping downstairs for dinner. Meanwhile, hopefully my brain will remember some Richard Curtisisms.

---- Am now back from dinner. Although, I find it hard for you to appreciate the time that has passed. Maybe I should press enter a few more times to suggest that time has passed.






Does that work? Anyways, the loneliness of creativity. Here's what happens, Julie says to you "you're going to be an amazing writer some day!" or Billy says "you have talent, you're going to be the best actor ever!" This belief/support/insane pressure is very good, on the one hand, because people believe in you. But of course, the writing of that script, or the constant auditioning, or the ploughing through months of pre-production paper work is a rather solitary journey. If you write a giant, complex novel, and nobody gives a shit, Only you fail. But Julie and her chubby pink cheeks didn't fail. They just sit there and say "aww, don't worry. You'll still be an amazing writer when you learn to put the full stops in the right place and everything." And you realize, you're lonely.

"Don't forget me when you get an Oscar!" Don't you just love that one. Normally somebody says it after helping you out, maybe by moving a camera bag across the room, or by helping you locate a clapper board that you misplaced in your apartment. So what happens is that you go and Direct your films for twenty three more years; and then when you finally get that well-deserved Oscar, the dude who found your clapper board wants a thank you for their support. That's lonely. That's a lonely twenty three years.

I'm writing this in a sarcastic way, I admit. In truth, that kind of support from people is important, and in many ways helpful. But you also find yourself marginalized, pushed into this position; the lonely position of being the one who has to deliver the goods. It's like when someone has cancer. Everyone rallies around and says "We're in this together," -- but only one person jumps on the operating table.

There's a real loneliness to the journey of fulfilling your creative dreams. Whereas Chubby Cheeked Julie who smells of banana for some strange reason is surrounded by a hundred people who think you're going to be a great writer.

I touched upon something in my last post, about recognizing your milestones, and I think it's a really key thing. You become your own support system. Whatever your achievements, be they short film awards, a large cheque or completing three sentences before dinner, celebrate them, appreciate them. You did well. You did it yourself. Give yourself a pat on the back. We don't do that nearly enough. There is nothing wrong with appreciating what you've achieved, in fact; it's integral to what we do. I have a tendency to finish a project and go straight onto the next one. But to truly learn from our past efforts, we need to see the good in what we've done, not just the negative stuff as pointed by some obese dude with cheese around his mouth who says "there was a cup behind the girls head, then when it cut back it was gone, which is really dumb, you're really dumb, your film stinks, what are you doing." We spend too much time listening to that guy. That guy's not nearly as important as that guy inside you who says "WOW! You're alive, you cleaned the whole kitchen today, picked the kids up from school, and wrote four pages! wow!"

And in the words of the great Forest Gump, "that's all I have to say about that."

Care to share?

Monday, 12 October 2009

My Films, My Blog, My Ego.

I just looked at a friend's Facebook profile picture. It's pretty funny, and it was a picture from on the set of a film I directed last year. The next picture in his profile was from another film I also Produced, in the same year. And it's not like we're the closest of friends or anything, but I cast him in two movies. Without that, he'd have two different profile pictures, and two less movies. And I'd have two less brilliant performances.

And I was looking at some other actor friends, and wondering how some dude who I met in a coffee house in Leicester Square in 2003 now has 33 friends in common with me. Having been in a bunch of my films, and in getting to know each others friends, it's amazing how it all comes together.

It's like anything else, I realize, we can all trace these steps in our own lives. But regardless, this makes me feel quite proud. Whether people think my films are good, or crap-- people have come together, friendships made, relationships formed. It validates what I do far more than awards do. But then, maybe that's because I never win any awards.

It's a similar thing with this blog. I got the most wonderful email from a follower the other day, saying how this is his favorite film blog, how it puts a smile on his face. It's funny how we have a tendency to thinking we've 'made it' when a big exec signs a cheque, or when the academy nominates us--- but there's something to be said for having a young reader saying I've inspired them, or making some fat drunk guy laugh at a screening of my film, even if no-one else laughs.

I think it's always worth looking around and recognizing your achievements and milestones. Often, in the midst of people saying negative things about my work, I forget all the people who've praised it.

This has been a bit of a rambly post. I meant to write a blog about the genius of Clint Eastwood, but am way too tired so it'll have to wait a day or two.

Care to share?

Sunday, 11 October 2009

Stage One Of A Feature Film Screenplay.

I don't have characters yet, I don't have a plot. This is the very beginning. It's the beginning of a script I've been putting off writing since I was about fifteen.The time has come.

Care to share?

Saturday, 10 October 2009

I was just a kid and that's what I miss.

Go with me on this one, I'm writing it in a bit of a dream-like, meditative state; trying to remember my childhood - and the path from Kid, to Kid In The Front Row.

I remember, I remember--- I used to rush to school for 8.45am, even though school started at 9.20am. I only did it for the one year. I was 10 years old. I'd get there because I had this little group of friends who I loved being around. And there was a girl, of course. I don't really remember anything, except we'd laugh. And I'd make them laugh. There was a real connection.

And I remember in class assembly, some teacher would be rattling on about something uninteresting, but somewhere near the back row, as we sat with our legs crossed--- I remember. I'd tie my shoelaces up again and again, until they were knotted as many times as possible. And then I'd pretend they were characters, like in a play or something. These little tiny shoelaces. And all my friends around me, and whatever random kids were nearby. I'd do these little plays. They consisted of the left shoelace fighting with the right shoelace. And maybe silly discussions. I remember one of the shoelaces had the nickname 'Putt Putt' -- and everyone liked the character the most. He was the funny one. He was the Chandler Bing of primary school shoelace comedy.

I remember walking out of an assembly thinking It'd amuse people if I put my left arm in the right-arm-sleeve, and the right in the left--- but I remember my arms getting stuck the wrong way round. And I couldn't do anything about it as I left the assembly. I remember being pulled out by our head-teacher who had a big go at me for being so stupid. I agreed. But I was still stuck in my jumper, unable to untangle. I don't remember what else happened.

I remember being excited by Roald Dahl.

My wrestling figures were often, I'm sure, confused by my experimental storylines. Hulk Hogan often had interesting back stories, and the Ultimate Warrior was undefeated in three years.


I remember playing football with my brother in the garden. But we'd pretend we were the managers of our favourite team. I remember we'd play out a whole season, over many months. I would make up stories of players getting injured, of players being sold-- we'd give interviews after matches, we had this whole imaginary football league, played out between the two of us in our garden.

I remember starring in my own imaginary TV show called 'Man' - it was a bit like the A-Team. I was a cop/general all round awesome guy. In most episodes I narrowly avoided getting shot. In one episode, I shocked the enemy when they thought they had finished me off --- What the enemy didn't know what that I had a Ghostbusters proton pack, which took them by surprise as they were expecting me to attack with my He-Man sword.

Me and some other Kid used to spend break times sat up against this battered old brown shed. We'd sit there and we'd talk for the whole of break time about the last repeated episode we saw of 'Steptoe & Son.' I'd do my impression of the son. It wasn't very good. But we'd laugh. We'd laugh at how funny the show was and how funny we were for liking such an old show.


I am in the business of making people laugh by telling stories, created from my imagination. I realize now, I've done this all my life.

Care to share?

Friday, 9 October 2009

What projects are you working on?

I've had a great week, meeting lots of interesting people and finding out about their projects, so I wanted to bring that energy to the blog. It's a chance to open things up to all of you, to learn a bit more about you and the projects you're working on. Whether you're working on a script, or a book, or on losing weight, or on world peace--- please share.

1. What are you working on?
2. Why is it important to you?

Look forward to finding out.

Care to share?

Tuesday, 6 October 2009

The Flames Of My Wasted Life.

I was sixteen years old, and everyone was saying "You've got to do A Levels. If you don't do A Levels, you won't get anywhere with your life." And even then, I knew it was strange, because people who had done A Levels were being told, "You have to do a degree. If you don't do a degree, you won't get anywhere with your life." Which is weird, because now they say to people "If you don't have a Masters Degree, you won't get anywhere with your life." Of course, I never knew where it was I was meant to be getting with my life. Certainly, nobody took seriously the notion that I wanted to be a Film Director. But then, that's fine, because at the time - I didn't take it seriously either. In our school systems, there is no support for creativity. I say that without hesitation. I was actively talked out of my writing interest in school. Nobody had ever sat me down and said "create something; it's brilliant when people create things." It was always, "Your Science homework is due tomorrow. Get it done."

I wasn't good at science. I wasn't much good at anything. But I did stay on to do 'A Levels.' But don't get excited-- I only stayed for two weeks. I don't even remember the subjects I chose. One of them was Media Studies, that thing where you sit there making stuff up like "The green coloring of Buzz Lightyear is a metaphor for the decay of society and is symbolic of aubergines." So, I knew deep inside that A Levels were not for me. And then everyone was saying, "well, you gotta get a job, you gotta earn some money, you gotta make a living." So I got a job as an office junior for a Quantity Surveying company. I didn't know what Quantity Surveying was (I still don't), but I forged ahead with my little job and the most depressing period of my life. Don't get me wrong, I've had years that were much tougher, where life really threw curve balls - but being 17 was tough because I had a terrible job, no goals, and nothing seemed to be on the horizon. And there were no girls. Well, I'm sure there were, just not in my life.

I remember in a very exact way that I went to a lot of gigs when I was 17. I guess it was a survival thing. Depressing, awful job by day, but gigs by night. I would love to pretend I was some cool rock kid, but I was seeing acts like Vonda Shepard, John Mayer, Ryan Adams, etc-- it was all Americana-ish, alt-rock blandity. But I don't mean to put it down - this is something I am learning to stand up for more, it's the music I love. I make no apologies. Anyways, the music became this incredibly important thing to me. It offered an alternative world to the one of moving boxes from storage space to storage space, and talking boring office talk to colleagues. I guess day by day it would build up and build up - my deep interest in music. I think I'm only realising the relevance of music to my life then, as I think about it now, many years later.

Somewhere inside of me, this feeling was bubbling up. The feeling that I wanted to do something with my life. I wanted to be a writer. A film director. Even then, I was aware that you don't make great films by moving boxes around storage units, but I didn't seem to possess the power or will to make the change. It was like a trigger was missing, some little thing that would put my life into gear, to give me perspective.

And then two things happened. One is because of Bruce Springsteen, and one is because of Counting Crows. But somewhere within those two events; the thing that was bubbling up finally came to fruition, the alchemy of my situation, my dreams, and my love for music. Here's how I remember it.

Bruce Springsteen announced a one off gig at Wembley Arena. And I guess I should tell you, I absolutely loved Bruce Springsteen. 'Thunder Road' was fast becoming my favorite song, and 'Born To Run' felt just like the bubbling, bubbling that'd been firing up inside of me. And 'Dancing In The Dark' was gaining in relevance.

I get up in the evening
and I ain't got nothing to say
I come home in the morning
I go to bed feeling the same way
I ain't nothing but tired
Man I'm just tired and bored with myself
Hey there baby, I could use just a little help
- Bruce Springsteen - Dancing In The Dark


So, I really wanted to go see The Boss live. But no-one would come with me. I asked all my friends. The collective response was, "the Born in the USA guy? No thanks." I made a very important decision. I decided to go by myself. Which shouldn't be a big deal, but for the lonely, worried little me, it was a big deal. It was confirmation that I was pathetic. This was supported by the build up to the event - culminating on me getting the train to the concert and feeling like a complete outsider. I didn't relate to my friends and I didn't really know why I was listening to Springsteen rather than, I dunno, whatever was popular at the time. So I was really miserable. I remember sitting in my seat, alone, at Wembley Arena. And I just felt--- so separated from everything, from everyone I knew. These things are so painful when you're 17.

And then Springsteen came on stage. And the music started.


What proceeded to happen was as near to a religious experience as I've ever had. I realized that I wasn't alone, I was with 12,000 of my closest friends. This wasn't just music, it a man who sang my dreams. His views on the world were the same as mine. There was a dream to be had and he was singin' it and chasin' it. I was truly transformed. I realized the reason I was there, at that gig, was because THAT WAS WHO I WAS. It is who I am. It is me. If everybody I knew who was going see Bruce Springsteen alone, and obsessing over his setlists and having this outrageously great experience, then I'd be just like everybody else. And being like everyone else wouldn't make me a very interesting writer. And it was like I GOT IT, right there, in that crap old tin of an arena.

I don't give a damn
For the same old played out scenes
I don't give a damn
For just the in betweens
Honey, I want the heart, I want the soul
I want control right now

Talk about a dream
Try to make it real
you wake up in the night
With a fear so real

Spend your life waiting
for a moment that just don't come
Well, don't waste your time waiting

Badlands, you gotta live it everyday
Let the broken hearts stand
As the price you've gotta pay
We'll keep pushin' till it's understood
and these badlands start treating us good

- Bruce Springsteen - Badlands


A week later; I was trying to figure out what that experience meant in relation to my career as a guy who re-alphabetizes an archiving system on a weekly basis. I remember very specifically being downstairs in the basement of the company I was working in. I was having a particularly hard time remembering the alphabet properly. Not because I'm dumb, but because I truly didn't give a shit.

Aside from Springsteen, my other obsession were Counting Crows. And this memory seems really cheesy now. But it happens to be true. I was down in the basement doing the archiving nonsense, moving 'N' nearer to 'B' and hiding 'L' just because I was a rebel. And the song 'A Murder Of One' by the Crows came into my head. And it really got a hold of me. I really began feeling the message of the song. I was enjoying it, it really felt alive. The words were really hitting me hard.


All your life is such a shame, shame, shame.
All your love is just a dream, dream, dream.
Open up your eyes.

You can see the flames, flames, flames of your wasted life.
You should be ashamed.
Yeah, you don't want to waste your life, baby.
You don't wanna waste your life, now darlin.
You don't wanna waste your life, baby.

You don't wanna waste your life, now darlin.
Oh, you don't wanna waste your life, now baby.

I said you don't wanna waste your life, now darlin.
Oh, you don't wanna waste your life, now baby.
Oh, you don't wanna, you don't wanna waste your life, now darlin.

Change, change, change.
Change.Change.

Change.

- Counting Crows - A Murder Of One


It was the second of my transformations. It was so sudden. Shit, I really wish I had these epiphanies every day. It hit me that I am NOT an office junior, I am not someone who moves boxes around for a living. I had a burning desire in me to CHANGE. To be something. I fucking loved films; my obsessive watching them and thinking about them was for a reason. I couldn't deny it anymore, it was time to come out of the closet and declare, "I am a Writer! I am a Director!" - I didn't outwardly declare it like that, but I did tell myself, it was time to be confident in who I really was and to make it my life.


I handed in my resignation on a Tuesday. By the Friday, I was gone. And now I'm the Kid In The Front Row.

It takes a leap of faith to get things going
It takes a leap of faith you gotta show some guts
It takes a leap of faith to get things going
In your heart you must trust

Bruce Springsteen - Leap Of Faith

Care to share?

Sunday, 4 October 2009

Please Watch! Ken Robinson On Creativity.

In terms of understanding and supporting creativity, in terms of education for the future generations, and in terms of standing up for what I believe in - this video, of Ken Robinson giving a speech, really says it all.

Care to share?

Something fascinating for all creative people.

Care to share?

Saturday, 3 October 2009

A Lack Of Self-Confidence, And What We're Going To Do About It.

When I started out in filmmaking, I made many short films on zero-budgets. I was that guy who would go out and shoot with his camera and no crew. The films were, for the most part, pretty decent-- and I showed a lot of promise. I had always promoted the idea that films, especially short films, didn't need to cost much money; if any at all.

Fast-forward a few years, and I was still making short films with just me and a camera. The quality was improving somewhat, but I hadn't made the leaps I perhaps felt I could have done. Looking back it is very obvious why-- I wasn't doing everything I could be in terms of collaboration. I was still shooting myself, I didn't get a Director Of Photography. I would still handle the sound myself, rather than get people who knew what they were doing.

For years I have had the knowledge and contacts to be able to put a little crew together, but it hadn't happened. The reason being, that voice inside me that would tell me "you're not ready yet, maybe a couple more films.." or "No crew is going to take you seriously." It's very strange, but now I realise, not uncommon-- to have these two sides of your personality battling each other. On the one hand, there are times when I have lacked confidence, been unsure of how others perceive me. But at the same time, I have always had an unwavering belief in my abilities and knowing this certainty that, one day, my films will be loved by many people.

I have a lot of friends who are actors, and every single one of them has this same process at work. On the one hand, they've done all the courses and gone to all the auditions; they're like a powerhouse of ambition and self-belief. But there is also the flip side to this-- a deep insecurity; something telling you you're not quite good enough for the role, or that you're not quite ready. Strangely, sometimes as an actor you DO get the role. And then the actor feels like they've cheated the system. They're just worried that one day somebody will figure out that they weren't supposed to be there.

And, one day not long from now, my looks will go, they will discover I can't act and I will become some sad middle-aged woman who looks a bit like someone who was famous for a while.
-Anna Scott in 'Notting Hill'

My personality has never really been one that seeks approval. I am generally happy for people to think what they want of me, and I wear my terrible clothes and sit in my room listening to Springsteen records, I'm happy with myself. But when it comes to my creations, there has often been the need for approval. The notion of being 'discovered' or of getting money to make a project, is subject to somebodies approval. It is at the very heart of what we do. The battle to prove we are worthwhile.

Of course, the simplistic advice we get is "be more confident." But I think we need to go further than that. We need to be more confident, but without the need for anybody's approval. I know a novel writer who, upon publishing his first novel, absolutely blitzed everybody on Facebook, on emails, etc-- begging them to buy his book. "Read me! Love me! Help me!" I could totally understand it; it's a pattern that certainly isn't alien to me. What could be worse than putting your heart and soul into your book, only to have nobody to read it come the end? Well, a worse thing would be putting your heart and soul into a book, forcing everyone to check it out, and still having nobody to read it come the end.

I spend a lot of time talking to successful people. I always like to know what makes them tick. In the field of filmmaking, and in other circumstances. What I find in most cases, is that the achievement comes when you stop fighting, and just create instead. Just yesterday, I was speaking to a theatre writer who struggled for years fighting to get her projects made. Then, for a few years, she went and had some kids and lived her family life. Before she knew it, people were on the phone, practically begging her to do projects. Likewise, the novelist I spoke of now quietly writes his books and screenplays, and is finding less resistence from the systems he used to feel oppressed by.

Look at it like an arm wrestling fight. If you are fighting the other person, you're going to get a lot of resistance. But if you loosen up, the fight loosens, and before you know it you have the ease and the energy to push forward. I am not talking about giving up, I am talking about changing your relationship with what you are trying to achieve.

So far I've talked about two things - self-confidence, and fighting to achieve with your creative pursuits. They are linked more than you might imagine. When you are trying to 'make it' as a writer, actor, director, etc-- you are entering into a system whereby you're offering something up, and the system can say 'let's make it!", "you've got the role!" or "we're not interested," "you're no good."

But that system, and by system I mean, the industry, the people who say 'you're worth our time' or 'you're not worth our time' is exactly the same as the inner process going on in your mind. Your script, or your audition, is the same as that voice in your head saying "this is what I want to do with my life." And that person who can say "Sorry, your writing is crap" is exactly the same as that voice in your own head, that tells you "your writing sucks!"

So why do you expect people in the industry to love your script when a part of your very being is telling you that it sucks? The naysayers in the industry are just an extension of that part of yourself that tells you you're not good enough. That's probably why you hate them so much, because they remind you of you.

To really understand the person who has the power to reject you, you really need to understand the part of you that rejects yourself-- or at least, your work. Maybe there's some great wisdom in that voice. This, for me, is where the limitations of those 'positive thinking' books come into play, because they try to override your negative feelings, rather than learn from them.

I believe you become successful when you are ready for it. I have found throughout my life that where I am, professionally and personally, is directly related to where I am in my head. And as I've become more aware of this, things have really transformed. I think that most people who have reached their desired level of success will tell you they did it at a time when they finally figured something out about themselves.

Self-confidence can come temporarily from listening to positive-thinking-guru type stuff. But after a while, you need more than that. You really need to look at your inner critic, at your insecurities; and find out what motivates them. That voice telling you 'you suck!' - where does it come from? Why is it there? Why do you sometimes trust it more than the confident version of you? What can you learn from it? What positive things can you take from that inner critic?

I know that my inner critic is pretty strong-- it's always there and it knows what it wants to say. I actually admire those qualities. What a great thing to have, perserverance and definiteness. That's something that it is teaching me. I should be as strong as that negative voice in my head. Come to think of it, having perserverance and being definate are two things that will really help me excel even more with my career.

This is something we can all do, starting today. Build a new relationship with the thing that zaps at your confidence. For me, next time I have a meeting or interview; instead of nerves or feelings of lack, I'm going to have new found perservence and definiteness, something that was always in me. Afterall, who the FUCK is my inner critic? Why am I taking him so seriously? Why do I believe him? What gives me the right to talk to me in that way? I know what I am doing with my creativity; of that I am sure, and I am going to perservere. And this new certainty has come from engaging with my inner critic, and learning from it. When something is part of you, you can either fight it, or learn from it and work with it. The same goes for external systems, like producers, film studios, script analysts, etc! Fix the thing inside yourself, and then you're going to do much better out there. I'd love to know your thoughts.

Care to share?