JOHN AUGUST ON "MAKING CHRISTIAN MOVIES"

Screenwriter John August (Big Fish, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and more) has a terrific blog devoted to screenwriting, in which he spends a lot of time answering questions of the "How do I write such-and-such?" or "How does the business really work?" variety. He's patient, knowledgeable, and smart.

A recent question surprised me: "What about the Christian movie marketplace?" Given the sequesterization (a nicer word than "ghettoization") of the Christian movie marketplace, it was a bit surprising to see it asked and answered in a very mainstream screenwriting forum. I admit, I steeled myself as I started to read the response and the comments (let's face it, there are a lot of unkind things that could justifiably be said about "Christian" filmmaking).

What I read warmed my heart. August gave a thoughtful, respectful and smart answer to the question, setting the also-respectful tone of the comments. I appreciated the tone even more because August makes no secret of his being gay, and in a post-Proposition 8 world, it would have been easy and understandable if he had responded with a fair amount of snark toward the questioner. (Would that I found such civility and thoughtfulness on many purportedly Christian sites.)

For those of you out there in that very marketplace, the post is well worth reading, and you can find it here.

WHEN DESK LAMPS GO BAD

I'll never look at a Pixar film the same way again.  This is fun.

INSANITY HITS THE ROAD

I didn't plan to spend Tuesday driving 500 miles in a bout of what can only be called insanity.  I planned to spend it writing, reading my students' work, and working out birthday party details.  But somehow I ended up on the road.

Apparently, Cory was supposed to be at school at 6:45 a.m. to leave for his class retreat -- canoeing on the Colorado River.  But somehow I didn't get that message.

Technically I did get it, I suppose.  But the packet with all the retreat info arrived two or three days after my mom's death, and to this moment, I have no idea what I did with it.  Weeks later, when Cory told me his permission slips were late, I had to have him bring home new ones.  Somehow they didn't come home with the time-we're-leaving info.  

And when Cory heard kids talking about 6:45 a.m., it didn't register on him that they were talking about the retreat.  And when we talked to the 7th grade dean about Sabrina's retreat, and were told everything started at 7:45 a.m., somehow it didn't occur to me to ask if 9th grade was the same.  And when everyone else showed up at 6:45, no one bothered to take roll and make sure everyone was there, in part because so many kids were sick this week, the powers-that-be pretty much assumed that if you weren't there, you were sick.

So when Cory called from school in an utter panic (I've never heard him so panicked) at 7:50 a.m., saying "Mom, I missed the bus!"... well, there wasn't any point in trying to assign blame.  I slipped up in little ways, he slipped in little ways... All I could do was see how to fix it.

Within 10 minutes, I knew where the bus was, knew the exit number of the rest stop they would be at, and I was on the road.  Yes, it was a long way -- the rest stop was almost to Palm Springs.  And yes, by the time I got to school to grab Cory, we were an hour and a half behind the bus.  But we had been told the bus would be at the rest stop for an hour, and we were going to take a different conglomeration of freeways, and maybe we could catch up.  We had the number of the school dean on the bus, we had an empty carpool lane ahead of us, and we had my iPhone to give us minute-by-minute traffic reports.  We could do this.

The 101 freeway was jammed, so we threaded our way through the Valley to the 134.  From that point on, we had clear sailing.  The 134 to the 210 to the 57 to the 10.  And as a bonus, a lesson for soon-to-be-driving Cory on the configuration of certain L.A. freeways.

When the bus got to the rest stop, we were 68 exits behind.  A long way.  But if they were really going to be there for an hour....

Oops.  Nope.  They were going to be there for 20 minutes.  Maybe they could hold the bus for an extra 10 minutes.  But no more than that.  Maybe the person I spoke to at school misspoke.  Maybe they said the bus would be there "in" an hour, not "for" an hour and I misheard.  It didn't matter.

At this point, we were committed.  (Or, you may be thinking, we should have been committed.)  What was another 68 exits, anyway?  Down the carpool lane we sped, driving perhaps just a tad faster than the posted limits, grateful that the day's rainstorm had not yet arrived.

When the bus left the rest stop, we were only 28 exits behind.  That's the point where we probably should have turned around.  But Cory was so happy, so relieved, to be on the way.  And this was the last school retreat he would ever go on.  And he had been so responsible about getting ready for it (in every way but one, we must note).  And the dean on the bus was willing to text us the directions to the camp.

So we kept driving.

Miles and miles of desert.  Rainstorms were threatening back in L.A., but out here it was bright, sunny and fresh (I guess that's why it's the desert).  "Why does anyone live here?" we wondered, driving through fields and fields of hay.  We braked for a covey of quail running across the road.  We looked for roadrunners, but didn't see any.  We laughed at the "Do not pick up hitchhikers" sign attached to the "State Prison" sign.  We marveled at the "Elevation Sea Level" sign, and the giant wind farms.  We kept driving.

We caught up with the bus on a dusty gravel road two miles out of camp.  Cory was absolutely jubilant.  He had his feet on the ground before most of the kids on the bus.  We decided, during those last few miles, that this was our own Amazing Race, and this was what it must feel like to come in last, but to feel a sense of achievement from making it to the end of the race at all... then to be told that you're in a non-elimination round and you get to continue in the race.

Also during those last few miles, Cory told me how much trouble some of his friends would have gotten in for not knowing the time the bus left, and how he didn't know any other moms who would have made the trip.  He thanked me profusely, abundantly.  He told me how awesome I was.  Oh yeah.

I checked in with the dean (who called me Mario Andretti).  I saw that Cory connected with his best friend and canoe partner for the trip.  I watched the kids cluster around him, asking "Why did you drive to camp?" and I thought, this is just like Harry and Ron flying the car to Hogwarts.  The dean high-fived me and told me to stop at an Indian casino to relax and have a martini on the way back.

And then I hit the road again.  

No Indian casino for me, though I did splurge on a Diet Coke at McD's, just around the time I was slapping my face to stay alert.  (Who knew you could drive over 130 miles in California before finding a McDonalds?)  The rain hit in Claremont, a sudden cloudburst that slammed on brakes as far as the eye could see.

I got home around 6:30.  4 1/2 hours out, 5 1/2 hours back.  

It was a completely insane thing to do.  I should have just let Cory eat the consequences of his mistakes.  But they were my mistakes, too.  And it would have broken his heart to miss the retreat.  Which would have broken my heart.  So, insane or not, I took 10 hours to make a 527 mile drive I really didn't intend to make.  I came home not knowing if I was the worst mom in the world or the best mom in the world.

But my teenager called me awesome.  I can live with that.

DOING THE SLIDEWALK...BACKWARDS

I love those slidewalks they have at the airport.  You're walking, you're walking, pulling your rollaboard suitcase behind you, done with security, headed for the terminal.  And you hit the slidewalk.  The temptation is to step to the right, stop walking, and let its smooth comfort carry you unthinkingly ahead.  

But I prefer to step to the left.  I like to walk on the slidewalk.  I love the out-of-synch feeling of power that comes from taking normal steps, yet being carried forward at ultra-high-speed (well, ultra-high for walking).  It's like having my own tiny superpower for 10 seconds.

Lately I feel as if I'm walking on a slidewalk every day.  But backwards.  Going the wrong way.  Against the slidewalk.

As you probably know from reading this blog, I came home from Family Camp in mid-August, and my mom died the next day.  I started to fall behind at that moment, and I haven't caught up yet.

I have a lot to do.  I have to break stories and go out on meetings.  I have to do paperwork and organization and emailing for the committee I co-chair at my kids' school.  I have to cook dinner.  I have to get my kids to and from school and rehearsals and fencing practice and church groups and bar mitzvahs and birthday parties.  I have to get the gifts for those bar mitzvahs and parties.  I have to do the laundry, do the dishes, swiffer the floor.  I have to read my students' work, plan my class lectures, comment on my students' work, start thinking about next semester's classes.  I have to read the work of my friends in my writers' group.  I have to answer my email and update my Facebook status.  I have to fill out endless paperwork about my mom's death, then fill it out again when they lose it or send me the wrong forms.  I have to clean out my mom's condo to get it ready to rent or sell.  I have to return my mom's wheelchair.  I have to finish captioning my "Church History" video, and keep track of the comments on YouTube (6500+views!) and elsewhere.  I have to nudge my kids to check their school email, to make sure the homework really is done, to clean their rooms.  I have to unpack all those boxes still stacked in the garage and see if I can finally find those missing tablecloths, scripts, sweaters.  I have to set that orthodontist appointment, set that meeting, set that coffee date with the guy from out of town who wants to know how the biz works.  I have to plan Sabrina's birthday party, plan the odd schedule for the kids' retreat week, plan how to split our time between two kids on Back-to-School Day.  I have to somehow find time to spend with the people I love, make those dinner dates and lunch dates we've been saying we'd make for two or three months.  I have to pay the bills.

It's a lot, true.  But it's not too much.  Plenty of people do all that and work the kind of job where you're chained to a desk or a cash register or a counter.  And I've handled much more than this before.  

I'm making a valiant effort.  I've trashed all the computer games on my computer, so they don't call to me.  I rarely answer the phone when I'm in the middle of something else.  But somehow I'm reaching the end of each day and realizing that, usually, only half of my to-do list got done.  And if more than half got done, it was the few really important things (writing) that didn't happen.

The slidewalk is time.  And it's working against me.  Even if I run on it, it's still faster than I am, still pushing itself into the past as I struggle to make it into the future with everything intact.  And if I stop running or even walking... well, that's what I did for three weeks when my mom died, and look where it got me.

I'd like for the slidewalk to slow down.  Or, better yet, switch direction.  But the best I can hope for is that, somehow, it jams to a halt, so I can continue forward at a normal pace.  Slow, yes, but slow sounds pretty good right now.

All of which to say... I'm sorry I haven't been posting here very much.  But don't worry.  It's on my list.  I'll get to it.  Promise.

CHURCH HISTORY IN 4 MINUTES -- THE LYRICS

I've been sort of blown away with the response to the "We Didn't Start the Fire" church history video I made as a gift for Mark Brewer.  Many, many people have reposted it on their blogs and on Facebook, and have retweeted it all around the world (Thanks especially to the Rev. Bosco Peters in New Zealand for really getting it started!).  Not to mention that, as I write this, we're closing in on 6000 views on YouTube.

I'm glad (and a little astonished!) that so many people have enjoyed it.  It's been a kick to hear from so many people just out of the blue...

Quite a few people have asked for the lyrics.  Because it's easier to post them once here and give people the link than to cut/paste/resend to everyone who asked, I'm going to, well, post the lyrics.  

Here they are!

Pentecost,  Palestine,  barbarians,  Paul gets a sign

Neglected widows,  martyred Stephen,  Gentile vs. Jew

New Testament,  getting tribal,  Gnostic gospels,  Holy Bible

Jamnia,  Revelation,  word of God is true

Martyrs,  Diocletian,  Polycarp,  Domitian

Church learns,  Nero burns,  Christians underground

Chi-Rho,  basilica,  Vita Evangelica

Nicea,  Who was Jesus,  Christians start to rebound

CHORUS:  We didn’t start the fire

It’s been always burning

Since the world’s been turning

We didn’t start the fire

Though we didn’t light it

And we cannot fight it

St. Patrick,   Monastery,  Visigoths are pretty scary

Pope Leo,  St. Jerome,  forgetting how to read

Mohammed writes the Koran,  Convert or die to Islam

Hard to cope,  Where's the Pope,  the Venerable Bede

Dark ages,  knights and pages,  east and west will split in stages

Monks’ skuills,  cathedrals,  Charlemagne starts to reign, 

Methodias,  Constantinople,  Peasants, clergy, serfs and nobles

Augustine,  Irene,  everything goes Byzantine

CHORUS:  We didn’t start the fire

It’s been always burning

Since the world’s been turning

We didn’t start the fire

Though we didn’t light it

And we cannot fight it

Cluny,  bubonic plague,  Vikings, Saracens invade

William conquers,  priests and monks,  and Jerusalem gets sacked

Flying buttress,  St. Clare,  celibacy,  worship Mary

Knights Templar,  stained glass,  Sultan Saladin gets whacked

Mendicants,  Avignon,  Albertus Magnus,  Genghis Khan

Aquinas,  Maimonides,  Gentle Francis of Assisi

Summa bono , Faith and reason,  say God bless you when you’re sneezin’

Just War,  Crusades galore,  but who are we fighting for?

CHORUS:  We didn’t start the fire

It’s been always burning

Since the world’s been turning

We didn’t start the fire

Though we didn’t light it

And we cannot fight it

Competing popes,  not much hope,  Joan of Arc makes her mark

John Wycliff,  Thomas Kempis,  Canterbury Tales

Michelangelo,  Siena,  Leonardo and Vienna

Reformation,  printing press,  Guttenberg  prevails

John Calvin,  Ulrich Zwingle,  indulgences for the kingly

Martin Luther pounds the door,  Here I stand, I’ll do no more

CHORUS:  We didn’t start the fire

It’s been always burning

Since the world’s been turning

We didn’t start the fire

Though we didn’t light it

And we cannot fight it

King James Bible,  John Locke,  Galileo,  J.S. Bachj

Anabaptists,  Guy Fawkes,  Blaise Pascal,  John Knox

Puritans preach denial,  Salem witches go on trial

Enlightenment or transcendance,  we declare our independence

Whitfield makes us all Awaken,  Pentecostals get us shakin’ 

Darwin teaches evolution,  Marx preaches revolution

Jesus freaks,  immigration, nuclear annihilation

Overwhelmed by information,  Who will save this generation?

CHORUS:  We didn’t start the fire

It’s been always burning

Since the world’s been turning

We didn’t start the fire

But when we are gone

It will still go on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on.....

IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL...

I was tickled to learn that my little church history video has been reposted halfway round the world in New Zealand.  

It was fun to watch it embedded in someone else's site...  Last week Dallas Willard talked about how our tasks in heaven will be to create and to give... He likened it to a child creating art as a gift to his parents.  That pretty much sums up why I made the video -- out of the creative impulse, and as a gift for our senior pastor.  So it's sort of an unexpected bonus to watch other people respond to it.

And it reminds me of why I love the internet.  How else would I be connected to someone in New Zealand?  I'm so happy that this is the time I'm living in, and love it that my kids will take for granted the ability to connect with someone around the world in a matter of seconds...  Fun!