That’s it! You’re Grounded!
At the one-year anniversary of the release of my first book on improvisation (my first book, period), I am already ruminating about my next one. Still about improvisation–a topic that has been a source of great joy over the past decades. And this time focused on character.
I made a point in the first book that character deserved a book unto itself. Now, I get to put my message where my mouth is.
In the period between the release of the first book and now, once the work was done, the book existed in the world, and many friends and colleagues and actors unknown to me had shown their support and purchased copies, I have found myself sometimes adrift. Not really knowing whether any of it mattered. And who did I think I was to write a book about improvisation, let alone anything? Did I fancy myself some sort of special case, full of knowledge and insight no one else could possibly possess?
Improvisation, and my approach to it, and the fact that I wrote the book specifically for actors, made it very niche. Seems impossible that anyone but a mere dedicated few would even bother to take note, or purchase a copy. Or, I would exhaust my friends and family with pity purchases, and then the book would simply gather dust on the virtual bookshelves of Amazon.com. Of course, I had no frame of reference about what “success” looked like for a self-published volume on a niche topic that no one was begging me to write. I felt satisfied that I had sold what I had, yet I also wrestled with the questions of “Is that it?” And “Now what?”
Beginning the process of writing the second book (really, just notes and thoughts, at first, and since then, an outline), I reconnected with the spirit that allowed me to write and publish the first book at all. Working through Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way” was critical for me to realign my association with how I spent my time. Specifically that, as an artist, I had to keep returning to the work regardless of whether it would ever make a cent, a dent, or pay the rent. The whole point was that I had something I was passionate about, and about which I had something to say. And until I said everything I wanted to say, I would feel that dissonance. THAT is why “Improv and the Actor’s Imagination” exists.
So, as I embark on the second book about character, I have been thinking a lot about who I am. Essentially. When I teach character work, one of the ways in is through habits. The behaviors we perform without thinking. They are part of our nature. The things that help define us. Like, without those specific repeated behaviors, it would be difficult for us to identify someone. (And, within the world of improvisational acting, these habits also help us establish patterns that can be the source of change and growth in a scene. But, let me not try to write the whole book here in one blog post.)
As we work to develop character, (and as we do in scenes generally), when we feel uncertain or things feel unclear, we return to the things we know, the things we have established, and reset. Quickly, we can once again feel our feet beneath us. We can ground ourselves in our activity and our nature, and begin again, moment by moment.
Out of this rumination, it occurred to me that perhaps the reason I have felt a bit adrift lately is that I have lost my connection with my own habits–my unique and essential behaviors which help me embrace who I am. For me, some of those things are teaching, improvising/acting, performing, creative expression. Over this time, I started to sink into jealousy and FOMO (exacerbated by social media, of course) that led me to believe that my colleagues were all advancing in their careers and personal lives by leaps and bounds while I was all but forgotten. An old, un-castable, wannabe whose dreams are bigger than his talent. I spiraled that what I had done with the book was a waste of my creative time and talent that should have been funneled into something “better” that would land me on a TV show, in a film, or with a sweet voiceover gig.
Then I was blessed with a terrific week that seemed to shift everything. I started teaching again. Brilliant, eager, students who boldly and bravely throw themselves into deeply vulnerable and exploratory work. Not only do I love sharing my experience and love of improvisation, I am profoundly inspired witnessing the bold strokes happening in front of my eyes.
I also, all of a sudden, had several auditions. And I completed each of them feeling really good about having done the work. And proud of my growing ability to focus on doing MY best work in the specific moment, and not connecting it to any specific outcome (like booking the job). It is about the work, the creative expression, the application of my talent, NOT the commerce.
And, I delivered additional copies of my book to the Drama Book Shop in New York City, where “Improv and the Actor’s Imagination” had nearly sold out, AGAIN. We’re not talking NY Times Bestseller list here. But there are interested parties (most whom I don’t know) who are finding the book and taking a chance, which is what the book is all about, really. ‘Get yourself into trouble, and see what happens.’
So, in those times when you feel like you are unmoored, or directionless, or unfulfilled, apply what we know about developing characters to your own character: return to the essential parts of yourself. Do the things, in whatever measure at first, that bring you to life. From that newly (re)grounded, familiar place, you can once again continue to move confidently ahead. You once again KNOW who you are.
