Halfway Point
Let’s take a wee breather, shall we? To step back, review our past chapters, and have some interesting dialogue.
NEXT TIME
a strong woman under the gaslight*
aka Jenn Zuko’s memoir
(So now you can catch up if you’re behind. We’re up through Chapter 4.)
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Halfway point
I wanted to take a moment and pause here after 7 posts under Saturday Morning Serial, and reflect a bit (if not Muse) on the narrative so far. To help me with this, I have snippeted a couple bits from an involved and thoughtful (and long!) comment on Chapter 4 (Landscape of the Body), which was the latest chapter published here in Saturday Morning Serial. There was so much to digest in WhyNotThink’s comment that I decided to incorporate some of my responses here in a whole post, instead of cramming it all in to a comment reply.
Below find some select clips of said comment in italics, and my rambling answers to same below those in plain text. Thanks! Why Not Think, indeed. Sure made me think. NOTE: I have not edited or corrected or revised any of their words in these clips; I just cut the bits out that I wanted to respond to. So. Any weirdness is their own. And mine is mine own. Ahem. Here we go:
Whoooa, we’re halfway there…
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So often we define who-we-are by what we have done, our "Linked-In" profile. Our trail meandering through the past. Then I thought, but who we are is our range of self-expression in the present, (right now). Our past is a reservoir of self-expression to draw upon, but how are we using it right now? That's when I thought: an accomplished actor is a master of self-expression. Am I right or wrong? Maybe an actor is just confused, with so many roles rumbling through the corridors of the mind; What is authentic? So my intuition depends on the ability to choose. To choose the self-expression that is appropriate for my objectives in this moment. And that of course means that I can formulate an objective. (I CAN).
An actor is definitely dipping her craft ladle into that reservoir often, to find material for the characters she constructs. In Realism (and especially Naturalism or its extreme, Method), she’ll use big chunks of her own self. In other styles, it’ll be more of a use of imagination. That’s why it’s important as an actor to be really really well read. The self is pretty finite when it comes to that reservoir. If you have an ocean from which to draw, even better. But then here I am saying that as mostly a memoirist these days. Huh.
From that I would think you are a giant of a woman, with a giant range of self-expression.
Careful there; you’ll inflate my ego to bursting. Watch it.
The history of entertainment is that everyone was both a consumer and a performer. Grandpa had a fiddle, sonny a banjo, or back a little further they called it "chamber music". Now the corporate world has taken over entertainment. Someone will get a part in "the movies", but 100's of hopefuls will get your mythology of the "Next Time". Something is wrong with this picture.
I’ve been having several conversations lately with people close to me about the new propensity of AI in writing. What has frequently come up is the idea of ‘artisanal’ writing—a return to an individual, human-born craft that might be a little imperfect, but highly valuable and sought after, like an artisanal bread or wine or that sort of thing can be. It’s more expensive, and more rare, but is healthier and a luxury item, much wanted by anyone.
Entertainers are part of our culture. Therefore cultured families will prod their children to develop these extroverted skills. Your mother said it, "hard work", (there is also talent, but that is a big discussion that I'll save for later). Aren't all top performers in the arts or in sports pushed by their parents? But the corporate is the valve (constriction point), where these performers are released into a meaningful job.
I’m sure many are pushed by their parents, but not all. And what I hope I’m arguing for here in especially this chapter is that there is no such thing as a magical superpower called Talent, that exists without hard work and without craft. That’s a widespread myth that I talk about a lot, I think, throughout my memoir. But that corporate choke point (you call it a ‘valve’) is so real. In music, in publishing. In theatre, for sure, let alone movies. Even journalism, these days, is being bottlenecked in many ways. And yet, oh and yet…
Places like TikTok, YouTube, some small presses, and here in our beloved Substack itself, artists are taking an earlier off-ramp before the chokepoint, and…well it’s still beginning, but the legitimacy of alternative platforms is starting to change. I remember back when I first started teaching writing, Wikipedia was not allowed to be used as a source. Now? It’s actually a lot more curated, peer reviewed, and legit than many readily available online sources. It’s that artisanal writing I mentioned. We’re coming back to it. Soon we’ll see paper ‘zines again, mark my words.
That presupposes that Americans want to see more original talent. I sincerely doubt it. Americans are content to spend their whole life on Youtube, and they will never run out. So is that what is left for you? You can make a Youtube clip, and hope that it is funny. It is the same as Hollywood isn't it? Five people get a million views and 5 million people made 70 cents on their last clip.
Depends what you’re after when you publish your work, whatever it is. Want fame and fortune? Yeah no probably not. Want lots of people to see your stuff, though? Put it out there, why not. Want real engagement with said work? I’ve found more active readers in dialogue with me about what I write here on Substack than I have in a decade of blogging. My live theatre audiences are so much more devoted, present, and make for an amazing performance experience than any big Broadway production, or especially a video, ever could. So, yeah—would I like to be able to support myself comfortably with my arts? I’d love that. But that’s not been possible for most artists for centuries, no matter the genre or the medium. So. I’m a keep writing and keep sharing my life story and my deep dives and my artisanal creations, and all I can do is hope that I can have more and more commenters and collaborators like you to engage with my work.
Because that's what art (arguably especially writing) is for: communication. Community. Communion. Here’s my fragrant offering. Thanks for sharing. Thanks for partaking.
And Substack? I wouldn't read anything that I couldn't comment on.
And I’m so glad you did.
*what do you all think of this as a subtitle to Next Time? I had an agent’s rejection letter tell me it was vague, but. I don’t think it’s vague. If it’s boring, though. or…? Maybe let me know once you’ve read the whole thing, yeah? I’ll re-ask at the end.