Essence
The last time we moved – 16 years ago – we had a lot less stuff. Even so, I remember vowing never ever to do this again. If a new move were to become necessary, I promised, we were going to forego boxes and vans and go straight to the one match technique. How much stuff do you really need, anyway?
Starting with the idea of getting rid of everything, a simple logic began creeping into the conversation: when we get to our new stuff-free home we’re going to need something to sleep on. We could sleep on the floor until we find a new bed to purchase, or you know what, we already have a perfectly good bed – why not just bring it with us?
And so it begins. A bed, a frying pan, a chest for clothes, a favored painting, a bookshelf, duct tape… The decision to bring nothing with us was easy. But once we realized that we were better off bringing SOME of the stuff with us, everything became fair game. Each item needed a review – do we need this? Do we want this? Is this us, now? Who are we? How do we live? What is our irreducible essence?
Coincidentally, I am in a similar place with my current screenplay. I have spent months and months accumulating ideas, scenes, characters, and dialogue, and dumping them into the infinite space that is a document file. There is a story – in fact, a complete beginning middle end screenplay – but it’s not ready to submit because it’s still carrying closets and basements full of unnecessary stuff.
I have snippets of terrific dialogue that only barely fit the characters now inhabiting the screenplay. I have some really kick-ass scenes that disrupt the flow of the story and set our expectations in the wrong direction. I even have two or three perfectly good titles, but of course I can only use one of them.
So about half of my time is spent poring over files, books, office equipment, collectibles, furniture, music – deciding with each item Is this still part of my life? Will I ever need this again? Who am I? The other half of my time is spent on the screenplay, picking at scenes and sequences, threads and payoffs, deciding with each item Is this still part of my story? Will I ever need this again? What is this movie really about? What is its essence?
Complicating this sanity-challenging discussion with myself are two competing knowledges:
1 – With all of the junk lying around our drawers and closets, I haven’t had to go to the hardware store for years. No matter what the home project is, I have been able to solve it using available materials. Save enough stuff for a rainy day and when the rainy day comes you’ve got the stuff to deal with it. Similarly, I have plenty of well written scenes not currently in use, but ready to either plug in as they are or to cannibalize their parts should the script once again require them.
2 – I could use the one match technique on both my stuff and my screenplay, and in either case I will do just fine. I have the resources I need, with me, all the time, to rebuild my home or my screenplay, this time without any old baggage, using only what I need based on what I know NOW, who I am NOW, what I need NOW. If that solution seems inefficient in terms of time or money, so does sorting through an overstuffed life and an overstuffed story. Furniture storage costs money. Winnowing through a script that’s full of old ideas takes time.
In both the moving and the screenplay, good decisions are based on awareness and honesty and a great deal of toil. But the goals are the same – to arrive at (or at least close in on) the basic essential life at the chewy center. Moving is hell, but perhaps helpfully cathartic. Screenwriting is the same.
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