This week I spent a good stretch of time trying to get my thesis partner to work on our script, only to realize that I am struggling with some of the same problems that are plaguing him.
I am a perfectionist, and that makes me good at my job. People will say it’s too much at times, but I don’t hear them complaining when I pull through with some sort of miracle solution at the last second. Unfortunately, I find that these strokes of creative power come in oscillating waves and are hard to control. Sometimes it’s really hard to focus, but I am proud when I get the job done and I am very confident in my ability to follow through.
As previously mentioned in my post titled, “RIDE & DIE,” I am working on a 3-4 part mini series that I am writing for my dear friend and creative partner, Sarah Dailey*. The truth of the production is that it originated out of the frustration that she was not getting the roles I knew she deserved — I saw her being passed up for cast lists — not necessarily because of the way she looked or because of her ability— but instead because artists are intense nepotists and the world is an evil place. (Read: the people casting have openly admitted to “choosing their friends” — is this part of the business or is this bullshit middle school drama following us into the end of our college careers?)
The mini series has been a long time coming: I started the basic outline of the plot back in September of last year, and it has haunted me for months. I worked on it obsessively over the summer: when I wasn’t in the field studying birds I was often tucked under the spare mist nets behind the maintenance shed listing to Florence and the Machine on repeat while trying to write a beautiful badass female protagonist. The truth of the matter is that writing is hard. Especially with my background at Kenyon, I was never taught to really consider the short story narrative. All of my production classes have focused on feature-length productions and no matter how hard I try, I can’t escape Joseph Campbell’s “Hero’s Journey,” plot structure in my mind. I see this not only in my own writing, but in the work of my thesis partner Diego, the early drafts of Masen’s thesis, and now my dear friend Charles as he struggles to get even the simplest of plots thrown together.
Over the past two weeks I have really buckled down on this “passion project” of sorts. Sure, that’s a super toxic sort of label for a project — but I really believe in the power of this one and I am determined not to fail. Could this be a quiet plan B in case Diego fails to ever complete our thesis script? I’m not saying it isn’t. That said, good God, that man will not let me help in really any respect and it’s starting to drive me up the wall. So, I suppose, instead of tormenting him the way I have been pushing Charles to complete his script, I have thrown myself into writing and developing this mini series.
Yesterday afternoon, in particular, I had a sudden breakthrough: a way to vanquish Campbell’s journey once and for all. After watching a series of videos on genre structure and listening to some pretty empowering lady-pop I realized that instead of mapping my short films in the clock shape of the Hero’s Journey, I needed to map them like a pyramid: starting with the given circumstances and working my way beat-by-beat to the climax of the film.
I found this exercise unbelievably helpful because instead of drawing a circle or normal distribution curve and trying to fill it in, I could ask myself, “What is the next most natural beat in the story?” and then add that beat on top of the previous one. The technique kept me focused: if the next beat did not narrow down the action of the story and bring me closer to the trip of the pyramid/climax, then it did not belong on my pyramid.
Admittedly, I did eventually chart out all of the beats out onto a normal distribution plot (in the name of Sir Campbell we pray) but having a new way of organizing my thoughts did worlds for both my focus and I for the strength of my plot.
*Maybe I’ll model myself in the exact image of bullshit nepotism that I so despise. Oh just you wait.
Third Week of October, 2018
Jesseca Kusher 
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