“You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.”
- Steve Jobs
This quote has stuck with me the past couple months as I've hit a couple of HUGE milestones in my writing career: I put the finishing touches my first single-camera comedy pilot after nearly a year of development with my amazing and supportive literary manager, Ray Miller. On top of that, I had the honor of collaborating with an amazing team of my peers on the story and production of my first major music video for The Chainsmokers.
If you'd asked me five years ago if I thought I could live a parallel life as an actor AND a writer, I'd say, 'Absolutely not. There aren't enough hours in the day.'
Or something equally lame like, 'My job is not to create, but instead to chip away at the writer's deepest thoughts and intentions like an archaeologist and interpret them as only a perfect, open, and receptive human vessel can...' or some such B.S. that just reeks of a liberal arts degree.
Then I realized: I have a brain, too, you guys!
WHAAAT? (You heard me.)
Not only that, I'd spent the better part of the last two decades reading everything I could get my hands on like it was going out of style. A good story is my personal equivalent to chasing the dragon. I'm hooked on a phonics high and I can't get enough.
Perhaps it's my characteristic impatience, but I got tired of waiting around for stories that satiated my cravings. I wanted to be an active participant in my own career. But to do that, I'd have to let go of my perfectionism and fears of being judged or written off for my actual thoughts.
And guess what? They're not perfect. Far from it. But neither is my acting. And neither are these sentence fragments I'm laying down right now. But that's what makes them alive and quintessentially me.
And now, I'm finding the more I write, the more I have to admit that writing and acting not only go hand-in-hand, they inform one another...
So let me pose a question to you:
What kind of risks would you take if you gave yourself permission to be imperfect?