I remember when Kurt Warner became the quarterback of the St. Louis Rams in 1999 and left the entire NFL with its collective jaw on the turf. The backup, the castoff, the guy who had been bagging groceries in Iowa for minimum wage, became a Super Bowl MVP in one of the most astonishing seasons of my lifetime, and went on to have a Hall of Fame career that started at an age when the average NFL player has already finished their pro tenure.
There was a lot of talk at the time about his uncanny poise; the way he had a “game day” mentality that belied his lack of NFL experience. But when you looked at his resume, you could see how he got it. He played for the Iowa Barnstormers, he played for the Amsterdam Admirals in the European League – rather than attending workouts, sending out tapes, and waiting for his agent to call, he was playing football anywhere there was football to be played. He wanted to be a quarterback, throw touchdowns, and win games. So when it came time to do all that in the NFL, it was the same process, just bigger. Practicing, preparing, suiting up, and playing under pressure were second-nature to him because he put himself in that position every chance he could find. And when he was called to step in, he was prepared because he held himself to the highest standard wherever he was, because that’s what it took to play quarterback, throw touchdowns, and win games.
Rather than putting his energy into trying to get noticed, he made excellence his goal where he was, and had faith that this would eventually get him noticed. It’s a distinction, but a crucial one.
Now, who knows what his path might have led if he had enjoyed that big college career, high draft pick, big contract start of someone like one of the Manning brothers. Maybe he would have decided it was the NFL or nothing, maybe he would have seen the Arena League as beneath him and not given it his best. Maybe this strategy wouldn’t have occurred to him, maybe the character forged by his experiences wouldn’t have been there.
But this was the hand he was dealt and he played it ideally, and that’s the lesson.
I recently had a gut-check where I looked up a fellowship for “emerging writers” that had an age cap of 35. I just turned 36. So I’ve effectively aged out of “emerging”. Since I’m nowhere near what I want to be in terms of career or finance, that’s troubling.
I had that first script sale a long time ago. It was the first script I’d ever shopped and I was very young. So at the time, I was the hot young prospect. I got a lot of meetings. But the movie didn’t get made, and then didn’t get made again, and again, and other projects that seemed destined to go…didn’t go. And the money ran out, and I got fewer meetings. And future scripts didn’t sell – sometimes because I mis-read the marketplace, other times because it’s just really damn hard to do this.
But it didn’t happen because I didn’t know HOW to do this. I could write then and I’ve only grown better since. So if the “hot young prospect” track didn’t work out, I needed a new strategy.
And I feel like a lot of the good things that have happened recently have been because I adopted the “game day” mentality. I wanted to play anywhere something was happening. That’s why doing community theatre in Orange County was a great use of my time even when I wasn’t getting paid – because the process of putting a show together is the same. You rehearse, you memorize, you put on your costume and give the paying crowd your all. If you hold your own work to a high standard, then whatever size stage, you want to throw touchdowns on it.
I’ve published short stories. Put short plays on-stage. Crewed for whomever would give me a chance to get on a set and learn. I want to develop that sense of professionalism and high expectations like a muscle that never gets soft. If all I do is audition and apply and wait by the phone, it’s never game day.
All this work of the past few years has introduced me to new people and given them a positive impression of what I could do. So even if the people at the top in Hollywood aren’t paying attention, I’m getting better and better opportunities to do things that they will notice. I feel like, instead of waiting for someone to lower a ladder, I’m building my own, one at a time. It’s slow work, but I feel much more in control of it.
For awhile there, I just wrote scripts, sent them out into the ether, and hoped. It was great for developing my writing abilities, but it wasn’t working for my career. Now I’m going wherever work is getting done, and asking if I can play.
That way, it’s always game day.