New Year’s

At some point over the last five or ten years, I’ve come to consider New Year’s “my” holiday. And not for the ball dropping, or the alcohol (I’ve never been much of a drinker, and all the balls I’ve needed have dropped).

I’m writing this to tell you why New Year’s is important, and in doing so, try to figure out why it’s become so important to me. Straight away, I can tell you the quiet is part of it.

When I say New Year’s, I don’t just mean New Year’s Eve, or January 1st. There’s a sweet spot of six days between Christmas and New Year’s. For around one percent of the U.S., it’s Kwanzaa. For the rest of us, it’s the quietest week of the year.

Wake up on the morning of December 26th and listen. There are no loud commercials tugging at your wallet through your heartstrings. No family obligations to manage. The turkeys have all been eaten. The gifts given. From December 26th until the machine kicks up again on January 2nd, American society is idling in neutral.

December 26th is when my New Year begins.

It’s The Quiet of Not Being Sold Something

For the six days that form the trailing ellipses at the end of every year, America is on hiatus. That empty, quiet feeling is the ringing that’s left over when society isn’t screaming for your attention anymore.

There’s finally room to think then, if you’re willing, and those last six days you’re as smart as you’ll be all year. You won’t have a clearer view than standing on this fulcrum between “back then” and “soon.”

It’s easier than ever to do this. Scroll back through your own social media, or the countless national and international news round-ups that will appear. Or simply flick backwards through the photos you took on your phone.

I count up the achievements, try not to dwell on the setbacks, and attempt to get a picture for what the past year became. What was its story? Was this year an underdog? A triumph? A comedy of errors? A tragedy?

Was I even the hero of my own story at all?

There’s No Promise Involved

I don’t make resolutions. Of all the promises we make, we break the ones to ourselves the most. And the idea of resolutions is too thick with self-help salesmen and pseudo-gurus.

I make plans.

Plans have specific steps, and specific results in mind. They can evolve. Sometimes, they get abandoned altogether. Things do or don’t go according to plan, but either way, there is a reason for it.

That’s part of it. I need a reason. I can’t let time go by year after year without having something to show for it.

Something to Believe In

When you give up religion, as I did, a lot goes with it. Traditions, ceremonies. You have to look for ways to shore up the answers to the corrosive “Why?” that takes hold once you let go of “Because God.”

All of society starts to seem like a performance, with laws and traditions becoming the chorus to a song we’re singing to ourselves. It’s hard not to see a lot of our holidays as another tune we’re humming to pass the time. In short, as an agnostic, I find myself wanting something to believe in.

The thing I believe in is us.

Whatever you believe about our beginnings is a personal matter. What interests me is the middle: the struggle to go on, for thousands of years, by people all over the world. We have eked out a meaningful existence from a seemingly meaningless world, and throughout the rising and falling dynasties, the gods made and forgotten, and the millions of intimate victories and tragedies that make up our lives, there has always been someone looking up at the sky, counting the days, and making another mark. We are still here.

It doesn’t matter what day you celebrate it. Call it New Year’s Day or Roshashana or the Chinese Spring Festival. The New Year celebration is the birthday of mankind. It’s a memorial to memory: the implicit acknowledgement that we are here, we have been here, and we will fight to stay as long as we can. We all have different reasons why, and how, and when, but we are all here together.

Last year is past, and the new year is coming.

This is our heritage.

Dec 26, 2015

Happy birthday, everyone. Happy New Year. Here’s to another pirouette with the sun, and everything we might do with it.

This isn’t the first time we’ve returned to the Star Wars universe, friends.

This isn’t the first time we’ve hoped.

In light of that, before we add new adventures to our galaxy far, far away, I think we need to right some wrongs.

Since we haven’t yet taken time travel out of its infant stages (doubly complicated, as time machines have been proven to be their own grandpas), please allow me to offer you the next best thing to changing the past: some revisionist history.

Call it a palette cleanser.

Watch the video below. (“What if Star Wars: Episode I Was Good?”, 12 mins)

If you liked that video, watch this one. (“What if Star Wars: Episode II Was Good?”, 16 mins)

If you, like me, are getting really excited by this point… watch this last one. (“What if Star Wars: Episode III Was Good?”, 23 mins)

This is my new canon, as far as the prequels go.

If you ask me how the Prequels happened, I’ll tell you it was all black and white lines, a little light on the special effects, but heartrending as hell, and laid out carefully by a bearded man in plaid.

Okay.

Now go see Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

Look, I could write a Matt Wallace post about a lot of stuff.

I mean, I know this guy.  Okay?  I know him.  Lived with him for four years, and we were broke for at least half that.  Sweated through the worst summer in Los Angeles recent history with no air conditioning.

(“In the Valley,” he said, and the Los Angelenos shuddered)

So I know, as they say, “the real deal.”

But any attempt to woo you with anecdotes (and I have them, believe me, I have them) would be a blatant song-and-dance to catch your eye with gossip while ignoring the real sexy beneath.

Gild the lily, throw perfume on the violet, chrome the ’57 Chevy.

Truth is, friends: Matt Wallace is blowing up.

How many of you know this?  Are you following him on Twitter?

Have you seen his bandit-style product modeling?

Have you seen the bunny?

That bunny has a pancake on its head. – Matt Wallace

Matt Wallace has a book coming out on October 20 called “Envy of Angels.”  You might have seen the cover above.  Here it is again.

That book cover – besides being described as “the sexiest chicken nugget you’ll ever read” by me just now in this sentence – links to a Barnes and Noble piece wherein you can preview an actual excerpt of this book.

“What is this book?” I hear you asking.

This book?  Envy of Angels?

This book Envy of Angels that’s been called “culinary hijinks taken to the extreme” by Publisher’s Weekly?

It’s a book about metaphysical foodies facing unholy odds in preparing a banquet for demons.

It’s funny, it’s speculative fiction, it goes from the depths of the underworld to the depths of a hellish corporate kitchen.  Pretty easy to guess which is more disturbing.

I’m telling you all this because you have a chance – not to order – but to pre-order this book, if you do it before October 20th.

And I’m telling you to do it because it’s going to be something.  Having already read it, it already is something for me.

But it’s going to be something for you.

It’s going to be “I got in on the ground floor of this thing.

“I was not a latecomer.

“I was not a ‘what’s all this hubbub about’-er?

“I was one of the ones squeezing into the elevator when the man called out, ‘Matt Wallace, going up.'”

Preorder Matt Wallace’s Envy of Angels in paperback or ebook form at Amazon or Barnes and Noble now.

Mrs. Kim Davis went to jail, and now Kentucky county clerks are giving out marriage licenses.

I have some empathy for Mrs. Davis as a human being living (if erroneously, in my view) according to her scruples, but I believe more strongly in marriage equality.

I try to remember that she had

A) every opportunity to quit her job, and

B) a chance to let others issue the licenses without her personally doing it (she refused, since it would still have her name on it).

If you, like me, have heard of the 2015 Hugo controversy (Vox Day?  Rabid Puppies?  Bloc-voting?  Wha?)  and didn’t understand the consequences of it, steer your gaze this way.

From Connie Willis’ blogpost: WHY I WON’T BE A PRESENTER AT THE HUGO AWARDS THIS YEAR

Not content with just using dirty tricks to get on the ballot, they’re now demanding they win, too, or they’ll destroy the Hugos altogether. When a commenter on File 770 suggested people fight back by voting for “No Award,” Vox Day wrote: “If No Award takes a fiction category, you will likely never see another award given in that category again. The sword cuts both ways, Lois. We are prepared for all eventualities.”

Ahh, the nuclear option.  That’ll make your case for you.

For a blow-by-blow of how we got to this point, I recommend Susan Grigby’s detailed piece, “Freeping the Hugo Awards“–

They are both good reads, but if you need the basics, Connie Willis nails it.

AS FOR ME

As far as the award goes, I have no dog in this hunt, as they say.  I’m not a member of SFWA or Worldcon.  I’ve never voted – and indeed, won’t be voting in the foreseeable future – for the Hugos.  My interest lay in the conversations we’re having as a culture.  Vox Day and his friends echo a sentiment I’m seeing from a lot of people lately (usually, but not limited to, white, straight men #NotAllBigots).

Their argument goes like this:

“STOP DISCRIMINATING AGAINST MY ABILITY TO DISCRIMINATE”

They see themselves as victims of “social justice crusaders.”  Hounded and hunted by the dogs of “political correctness,” they speak their truth bravely, clearly, as vilified servants of America’s once-and-future-king: “monoculture.”

“Why are we being silenced?  Why are we being shamed?  We’re just behaving the way we were taught.”

Their argument, essentially, is an argument for the good ol’ days.

The good ol’ days weren’t all that good for a lot of people.

As someone who once loved Fox News and the conservative paradigm (minus all the social inequality, long story), I get it.  You grow up thinking of America as a place where freedom reigns and moral superiority isn’t a punchline.  And when people suggest that America isn’t all that great, that its history is as bloody and muddled as anyone’s, they react.  Because it hurts to think that women couldn’t vote for most of our history, and it hurts to think that 90% of liberty has been white men patting each other on the back.   It hurts to think that it used to be okay to own people.

So the whistle blows, the music starts, and the mental gymnastics begin.

“How can this thing I loved be terrible for so many people?”

“It’s not terrible.”

“You’re terrible.”

“You’re trying to hurt America.”

“You’re trying to hurt me.”

“I’m the victim here!”

Find-and-replace “America” with “the Hugo Awards,” “modern video game narrative,” “relations between men and women.”  It’s all the same.  When you don’t know you are the dominant cultural voice, making space for new voices feels like being shoved aside.

You know what political correctness actually is?

It’s treating strangers like your friends.  One of the biggest predictors of whether someone will accept gay people as equal in society?  “Do they have a personal relationship with someone who is gay.”

You might tease your best friend, but you don’t tease them in front of others. You don’t tease them behind their back (or maybe you do.  Stop doing that.)

You don’t make them into an outcast.  You respect their feelings.

“Feelings?!” comes the Sad Puppies / GamerGate / Men’s Rights Activist reply, swaddling itself in self-pity and righteous outrage.  “What about our feelings?”

I care about your feelings, too.  And I want to take your feelings seriously.

But you’re like a bully who, after shaking down a seven year old for their lunch money and pride, complains about the harshness of the reprimand.

If your only persecution is that no one will let you persecute others anymore, then I can’t help you.

In which I analyze the Star Wars: Episode VII – The Force Awakens” trailer shot by shot.

Update (Nov 29, 2014)

Slashfilm posted an article revealing the “true” voice in the trailer as Andy Serkis.  It still sounds like Cumberbatch to me, but I’ll leave you to draw your own conclusions with their side-by-side comparison.

Could it be Serkis?  Sure.  But it also wouldn’t be the first time J.J. told us a lie about Benedict Cumberbatch so as not to spoil a surprise.

Either way, I forgot Serkis was in the new cast; I’ve included him in my list at the end.

Back to the breakdown.

LOOK, THERE’S NO BEATING AROUND THIS BUSH

We all know why we’re here.  You didn’t click this accidentally, I wasn’t paid to write this, and no part of this discussion will lead to a cure for cancer or world peace.

We’re here to geek out.  So let’s not do it half-way.

You check out the trailer while I prepare my arguments (and a pile of animated GIFs).

Yes, you heard right.  Animated.  GIFs.

We’re going full geek.

THE TRAILER OVERALL

“I’m not peeing my pants yet, but I am starting to feel tingly.”

In whole and in part, the trailer is pretty great.  I wouldn’t say that I’m blown away (I suspect I’m probably still leery from the days of Episode I’s trailer, which sold a much richer film than we got), but I’m not disappointed.  I think it did exactly what Abrams hoped it would: it whetted my appetite.

Surprisingly, the trailer seems very straightforward, and designed to make several points very clear:

• Yes, this will be a multicultural universe (John Boyega is the first person we see).  Awesome.
• Yes, there will be badassed-ness across all genders. (Daisy Ridley is the second person we see, and while she’s clearly retreating, she’s not running away in fear). Awesome.
• They’re taking this in some new directions. (The shaky cam/lighting for the Stormtrooper Assault).  I’m interested.
• But they have not forgotten what makes this series awesome. (The Millenium Falcon)  Awesome.

The most interesting trivia from the whole thing?  There are no shots of the stars or space, other than the title screen.  All the ships are flying in atmosphere, on a planet.

Nothing wrong with it, but it is very curious.

All that said, let’s get geeky.

Shot 1: The Desert-ed Stormtrooper

Or: Where in the World is John Boyega?

“There’s been an awakening… have you felt it?”

Assuming that first line wasn’t created specifically for the trailer, that first line tells us a fortune.  Benedict Cumberbatch is evil (either a Sith or a Dark Jedi, which aren’t the same thing omg geekgasm all over our faces), and he’s talking to someone of his same ilk (someone who could reasonably be expected to sense the awakening).  Is it a student?  A teacher?  An equal?

Secondly, we have the arrival of John Boyega on-screen.  Clearly on Tattooine, clearly just coming to his feet.  If you listen very carefully (headphones are better), you can hear the whirring murmur of a probe droid nearby.

The question is: did Boyega just dodge the probe droid, or did he crash-land along with the probe droid?  His relaxed, searching gait on his turn suggests the latter.  This is potentially really, really exciting, for reasons I’ll get into later.

“Always two there are, my dear Watson.”

Now: can we really safely assume Benedict Cumberbatch is evil?  I vote yes. While I would love J.J. Abrams to throw me a curveball here and have him play totally straight, it seems unlikely, as Benedict Cumberbatch has a scary voice and suffers from terminal Sithface.

Shot 2: The Roller Droid

Or: “And David Beckham as R2-D2.”

Are those pod-racing engines in the background (especially on the right)?

Are those little R2 beeps?  The eyes/face definitely seem reminiscent of R2, down to the little antennae on the back of his head.  It may even be R2, in some modified form, though that seems unlikely – scale is a little difficult to tell in this shot, but the droid here seems to be very tiny.

As a side note, seeing this was delightful: it captured the playful seriousness of the droids without feeling like a toy advertisement.  So good.

Shot 3: The Trooper Assault

Or: “No, these are the f*cking droids we’re looking for.”

Here we get our first hint that J.J. won’t be sticking to the older, classic Star Wars style of shooting.  The scene features flickering, dramatic lighting, and is told mostly with close-ups with a little helping of shaky-cam.

On a story side, there’s a fair argument to be made that the stormtroopers are assaulting Tattooine.  Notice the four lights in the freeze frame above: three white lights and one red one at the top.  Here’s a blow-up, with some brightness correction:

Those white lights look awfully reminiscent of house lights on Tattooine settlements, and the red lights from the antennae structures that usually accompany Tattooine structures.

And if you look really carefully, just beyond the gangplank, you can just make out a yellow texture on the surface.

I’m betting Tattooine.  Which means: a stormtrooper assault on Tattooine.

I’m getting more excited the more I type.

Finally, notice the choice of shots in this sequence: we are inside the ship, the troops are readying their weapons, and when the gangplank opens, we see the ground from their point of view.  This makes a reasonable argument that we’re actually following them at that moment.

If this were a scene from the victims’ point of view, you might imagine they’d begin with exteriors of the ships, shots of the victims’ faces, and then a shot of the gangplank opening.  We wouldn’t be able to “see” inside the ship unless we were following someone there.

This ties back into the “good guy”/”bad guy” question with John Boyega.  Coming back to this.

Shot 4: The Fleeing Scout

Or: “Daisy… I am your mother.”

Not a lot in this shot, but some really huge possibilities.  Daisy Ridley definitely looks like she’s fleeing from something (notice the prolonged look backward before the quick ignition of the engine and the getaway).

What really catches me here is just how much Daisy Ridley looks like a young, slightly sleeker Carrie Fisher.

Is she Leia’s daughter?

The other possibility (equally exciting) is that she’s Luke’s daughter.  If that’s true, and she’s dressed down, playing scout on the outskirts of a Tattooine settlement (and clearly running from something), it’s possible that she and Luke are in hiding.

I do not know why, but I really, really think Luke is in hiding at the start of Episode 7.  There is no evidence for this.

Could I be biased because my spec script of Episode VII, written nearly ten years ago, also starts that way?  There’s no evidence for that, either.

Shot 5: The X-Wing Assault

Or: X-Wing SeaDoo

Since we know Episode VII won’t follow the Extended Universe canon, we can’t count on the fact that a New Republic (the government started by Leia Organa after the war is over) does or doesn’t exist, or what their logo would look like.  But I think it’s pretty clear those are Rebellion logos on the pilot’s helmet and breastplate, which indicates the Rebellion still exists and operates.

Add in that the Empire is still possibly assaulting something (see above, Shot 3: The Trooper Assault), and it seems to suggest the Empire/Rebellion conflict is ongoing.  This’d be an interesting (and frankly, more fun) direction away from the Extended Universe, where the Empire was largely splintered, and slowly being mopped up book by book.

This suggests (based on the ages of Mark Hamil, Carrie Fisher, and Harrison Ford) that the war may have been ongoing for more than 20 years.  So I imagine our heroes are getting pretty tired.

Side note for the tech geeks: does it look like the noses of those X-Wings have been modified to be more sleek than the original T-65 from Episodes IV to VI?  Maybe retrofitted to be more aerodynamic for planet-based combat?

“That’s enough terrain for four planets, you wasteful upstarts.”

Side note for the geology geeks: Are those mountains AND water AND smoke on one planet?  George Lucas’ head would be exploding right now.

Shot 6:  The Pre-Requisite “Alternate Lightsaber” Shot

Or: Does a Cumberbatch Sith in the Woods?

Does anybody think that’s not Benedict Cumberbatch under that robe?  Maybe Adam Driver?

Either way, if they use that lightsaber, they will most likely be coming away one hand short.  The cross-guard, while looking awesome and vaguely Three Musketeers-ish, is presumably designed to catch an oncoming lightsaber in a dual.

But there is a very noticeable gap between the blade and cross-guard.  Which creates a “gutterball” effect that almost forces your opponent’s blade toward the intersection. Which is decidedly non-saber.

Maybe the cross-guards angle up to overlap with the lightsaber blade?

Maybe the Sith are exceptionally gifted with awkward weapons?

Maybe Benedict Cumberbatch doesn’t need his hands to kill you?*

* This one is true.

Shot 7: The Pre-Requisite “Holy Sh*t It’s the Millenium Falcon There Is Nothing Stock About This”

Or: Did You Hear What I Said It’s The Mother-F*cking Millenium Falcon Why Are You Reading This Keep Watching This GIF Until You Die.

It’s the Millenium Falcon fighting TIE fighters. And it’s almost certainly on Tattooine (tough to tell, only one sun on the horizon).  That’s awesome pie with giggle on the side.

The only thing that worries me about this shot is it’s dangerously close to the “rubber camera” that a lot of CG films employ today: an omnipotent viewpoint that spins, swings, and flies in impossible directions and at impossible speeds.  While it makes for a stunning shot, it can also create an artificial feeling that deflates the danger: we’re not flying in a dogfight, we’re watching a cutscene in a video game.  I wouldn’t say this shot completely goes over the line, but it is edging toward it.

But what do I know?  Maybe this was done practically.  I’ve heard Abrams is using as many practical effects as possible, and it’s certainly possible to do this shot with practical models, but it is very, very difficult.  Here’s hoping, whether CG or not, that Abrams and his team opted to limit themselves a little in terms of camera movement, in exchange for buying us a real, dangerous world.

TL; DR

Here’s what we know, for certain or nearly so:

• The Millenium Falcon is in the movie.
• The story will take place on at least 2-3 worlds: Tattooine, a misty/water/mountain planet with the X-Wings, and the forest from the Sith shot (which may be the same as the X-Wings).
• The Star Wars won’t just be fought by white guys (yay!)
• Some sh*t is going to go down on Tattooine.

So now then –

My Episode VII Plot Theory

These are just my guesses, but I suppose a spoiler (esque?) alert is in order.

There’s only three lines of dialogue in the whole piece, all spoken (presumably) by Benjamin Cumberbatch:

There’s been an awakening… have you felt it?  The Dark Side… and the Light.

Two sides are “awakening:” both dark and light.  Meaning that both sides will be featured in this story.

On one side: Luke, Leia, Han, Daisy Ridley and the new batch of rebels (and whatever Jedi Luke may have trained).

In the opposing corner: Benedict Cumberbatch, Andy Serkis, Adam Driver, John Boyega, and a whole cacophony of stormtroopers (who look like they might be able to shoot this go-round).

Boyega Bad?

Yes, I’m putting John Boyega on the dark side – for now.  Boyega could easily be the good guy in this film, masquerading as a stormtrooper (perhaps even a long-term mole), but we’ve seen that already, in A New Hope. So I’m guessing, between his stormtrooper armor and his ease with the nearby probe droid, he’s working for the bad guys.

But I suspect this series will profile the individuals fighting in these “star” wars, and that will mean humanizing what would otherwise be cardboard characters.  I’m betting Boyega jumps to the light side before it’s all over, and that we’ll see at least one character (probably a Jedi-type) jump to the dark side.

Are they going to kill Han Solo?  You bet they are.

But not Chewbacca.  Never Chewbacca.

A very, very strong first showing for the new film, and while I refuse to escalate my hopes, I’m excited.  I think they may be onto something.  In fact, there was only one shot in the trailer that was hard to swallow:

My Leap Year

By New Year’s Day in 2010, I had cookie-cuttered my life into a 2005 Pontiac Grand Am: whatever fit inside would have to sustain me for the foreseeable future.  Whatever didn’t was discarded.

2010 was my Leap Year.  With no job prospects, few connections, and a numb-yet-burning naiveté, I hit the gas as I crossed the Mississippi River, trying to stay a timezone ahead of my doubts.  In the Arizona desert, they caught up with me.

(I blame Arizona and their refusal to observe Daylight Savings Time)

I was on the phone with a colleague, awkwardly trying to explain my plan (I had none) to “make it” in Los Angeles.

“That’s fine,” he said, “but what do you want to do?”

“Write.  Or direct.  Both?  I can produce, too.”  Ten years worth of work spilling out in ten awkward syllables.

“Nah, nah, nah, nah –”

“– Batman!” I thought –

“That’s no good.  You can’t do that.  You gotta decide on something.  You gotta have some kind of plan.  Nobody is just going to give you a job.”

And then he said a sentence that would haunt me for months:

“What you have to ask yourself is: what do you want to do?”

Cut to the empty sounds of cold January winds whipping the night-time desert.

I had no idea what I wanted to do.

I knew where I needed to be (Los Angeles), how to get there (“Go west, young man”), how I planned on surviving (somehow).

Flat-out had no idea what I wanted to do once I got there.

The story of how I got from there to here is more complicated (you can start by reading my essay on John August’s blog), so let’s cut to the chase.

I Know “What I Want To Do”

This blog will look a bit rag-tag over the next few weeks, as I slowly get it back on its feet.  I’ll keep posting things anyway.  Los Angeles taught me that creativity has its own inertia, and it’s better to have half of something than a perfect nothing.  Half of something grows fungus-like into a whole something.  Nothing stays nothing forever.

All of the stories of how I got here will be yours in time.   But for now, let me tell you I do know what I want to do.  And it is not just one thing, but many things.  And they all begin with words.

And the words begin now.

Warm up your inputs, my lovely digital creatures.  I have so many wonderful ones and zeros to share with you.

If creating art was a day job, most artists would have been fired already.The Artist Contract is, simply, the terms of agreement for a sustainable, productive career as a professional artist.  The working conditions, the expected results, and a mini-code of conduct.  Just like you’d have at any other job.  Because, in the end, that’s what being a professional artist is.

Special thanks to Doc Waller for his assistance with the graphics, and his suggestions on expanding the scope to encompass artists of all kinds.

The Artist Contract by Earl Newton is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.  Based on a work at blog.earlnewton.com. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://blog.earlnewton.com/2014/05/the-artists-contract/.

• Download the Artist Contract

Letters from fake people with real problems.

Did you follow up after a few weeks?

Okay. Odds are, silence is the only rejection letter you’re going to receive. Maybe they just haven’t seen your submission yet, but if they do, and they like it, they’ll call you. Might as well move on and –

Oh. I see.

Okay, this is a common misunderstanding for people in the entertainment business. You’re interpreting their lack of response as disrespect. What it really is, however, is a lack of interest, which can be more hurtful, but is not really designed to be insulting.  That’s why a creative career is so tough to gauge: a success looks just like a failure for the first ten years.

If you want, I can state the obvious, which is that their disinterest isn’t a direct comment on your talent, it’s the end result of countless factors, including: the state of the marketplace, the economy, the creative direction of their company, their personal taste, and whether or not they had bran that morning.

BUT –

That’s little comfort when you’re the one being rejected. What you need to know is that rejection – and its mutated-birth cousin ”total silence” even more so – is an ingrained part of any creative career. You should reasonably expect to be ignored and rejected at least sixty percent of the time (eighty to ninety percent is not out of the ballpark).

That’s why a creative career is so tough to gauge: a success looks just like a failure for the first ten years.

SUCCESSFUL CAREER IN THE ARTS

They were rejected and ignored for years. And just when they were about to quit, someone gave them a chance.

FAILED CAREER IN THE ARTS

They were rejected and ignored for years. And just when they were about to quit, they did.

If you look at every rejection as a judgment, it’s going to wear you down. You’re going to either give up, or else become one of those cynical people at parties with faces like lemons.

Or, you can choose to look at rejection as a natural part of your process. Plumbers don’t complain when they have to deal with crap; why should you?

THAT MEANS YOUR JOB IS NOT ”TO BE SUCCESSFUL”

Your job is to be talented, at the right place and time.

When and where is that? Nobody knows.

That’s why, outside of the time when you are actually creating, your primary role is being an ”opportunity collector.” You should look for and pursue as many opportunities as you can, until it’s clear that they are tapped out; sheer odds will guarantee you’ll get your chance.

So if someone doesn’t respond, or rejects you outright? Learn what you can, and breathe a sigh of relief. It’s one more email or phone call you don’t have to follow up on.

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