Part 4

I moved back in to the family farm, which has been in the family for three generations. It was good to be home and see Mom and Dad. It’s been said that the two most important things a parent can give a child is roots and wings, and I am grateful that mine gave me both of those. I received the willingness to take risks, go places, and try new things, by knowing that whatever happened there was always be a place to come home to. It’s strange how much surer your step becomes when you know it’s okay to fall.

That being said, trying to become a filmmaker/writer still wasn’t a practical dream to have in a rural area. And work in the Arts was scarce. But old friends called and offered me work in other fields and I took it. I was there for winter, spring and a summer. Time enough for a rough draft of, Lavender.

But, before devoting myself to the time necessary to really get serious about writing a feature script, I read Julia Cameron’s, The Artist’s Way. It helped me find courage, and give myself permission, to write. I highly recommended it for overcoming creative blocks.
I also read may other books on writing and film making, like Screenwriting From the Soul: Letters to an Aspiring Screenwriter by Richard Krevolin and Hitchcock by Francois Truffaut.

After coming to the spectacular conclusion that making connections in the film industry in Prince Edward County wasn’t going to work, I returned to Toronto and got my old job back at Roy Thomson Hall.

I was back in time to work the Toronto International Film Festival, which was great. It was nice to be back surrounded by other people who were trying to make it in creative fields, made me feel a little less insane for giving it a go, myself. Though, I’ve always been blessed with supportive friends.

One of them, Cole, the one that came to see me in Ireland, I believe was the first to read the script. Cole and I had been reading each other’s work since we were 12. We know most of each other’s stories in life, too, and will never repeat many of them, living under the threat of mutually assured destruction if we did.

Cole liked it enough to give me notes on mistakes I’d made. Some writers say you shouldn’t give your work to friends because they won’t give you an honest opinion. That all depends on the kind of friends you have. His wife, Cindy, is even nice enough to send me text messages when I make mistakes on this blog. Honesty and kindness are great combination in any friendship. That and sarcasm and drinking ability.

So, while I wouldn’t be home, Toronto was a lot closer than Ireland and could come down often and be there for Mom and Dad if they needed me. So, I packed my books, my script, a desk, my stereo, and I was off to Toronto in an old Ford pick-up. I’d return to the farm after I dropped my stuff off and then return via, well, Via.

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