Decisions and Meeting the Moment by Dean Gloster
This month I started an improv class at Pan Theater in Oakland. I used to do standup comedy and have always been intrigued by improv, which seemed way harder. The class is less terrifying than I expected, and way more fun.
We do
improv games and improv scenes on stage, and it’s extraordinary, getting to
spend two hours on a weeknight just playing together with fifteen other brave
adults.
It’s also fiercely
grounding in the immediate present: You respond to what the person on your
right just said, or just did—not to where you wished the scene had headed. You
react—fast—to where it just went, and then try to say or do something that
gives someone else something to work from.
You make an
instant decision, based on what’s happening now.
There are a
lot of things writers can learn from improv, about collaboration (“yes, and…”),
dialogue (don’t just ask questions or give yes-or-no answers; move the scene
forward) inserting backstory (quickly) and character (inhabiting a distinct
character.)
But you can
also learn things about trying to meet the moment.
This month’s
topic is decisions. Every day, we decide (or choose not to decide, embracing inertia
instead) how we’re going to spend our finite time on this earth. And it is
finite.
That was
brought home to me this week, when one of my classmates from our MFA program in
writing for children and young adults, Kathryn Benson, died. She was young, a
wonderful writer, kind, brilliant, organized, and a caretaker, who helped our
whole class get through the program.
Kathryn
should have had more time. We should all have had the chance to read the books
she would write. She was a bright light, and some of us were lucky to spend
some time near her glow.
Lately, I’ve
decided I want to be more intentional about how I spend the remaining time I
have: I was apprehensive about taking the improv class, but it’s something I’d
wanted to do for a long time. And I don’t have forever to do it in the future.
If not now, when?
And, of
course, in November as a country we have a huge decision to make. I’ve decided
I’m going to do everything I can between now and election day to prevent our country
from sliding into fascism and instead keep more of its best promises (as the 14th
Amendment to our Constitution provides) of equal protection of the laws.
About ten
years ago, I saw a terrific production of Italian playwright Dario Fo’s The
Accidental Death of an Anarchist at Berkeley Rep.
At one
point in the production, after rattling off all the terrible injustices going
on, wonderful comic actor Steven Epp said, to himself, “But what’re you going
to do?” Then he turned to the audience, broke the fourth wall, and addressed
us: “No. Really. What are you going to do, after you leave this theater
tonight?” I still think about that.
Two days ago, rambling before a “Believers’ Summit” in Palm Beach, Florida, Donald Trump urged conservative Christians to vote in the upcoming election, and explained (enthusiastically) that after that they'll never have to worry about ever voting anymore: “You won’t have to do it anymore. Four years, it will be fixed, it will be fine. You won’t have to vote anymore…In four years, you won’t have to vote again.”
That was
either the incoherent babbling of a 78-year-old convicted felon or a suggestion
that if the Trump wins, we won’t get to have elections in the future. Or
both. As of 9 a.m. Pacific Time yesterday, however, it wasn’t reported as front-page
news by the New York Times, Washington Post, Wall St. Journal, or mentioned at
all by ABC, CBS, NBC, AP, BBC, Politico, or CNN as a call to end elections. The
New York Times headline about it was instead that “[F]ormer President
Trump honed his attacks on Vice President Kamala Harris and called her a ‘bum’.”
After getting savagely roasted about that online, the Times eventually—hours
later—re-ran a different version of the story with the headline “Trump tells
Christians ‘You won’t have to vote anymore’ if he wins.” And a few hours after
that, CBS finally tweeted a couple of lines about it. (Thanks, guys.)
The Supreme
Court isn’t going to save us. (Former Supreme Court law clerk here, who’s
actually read the horrific immunity decision. Trust me on this.) The press isn’t
going to save us. We’re the scrappy protagonists, friends: We’re going to have
to save ourselves and our world.
I wish
things were otherwise, but that’s what they are, and we have to respond to meet
the moment.
So I’ll keep
writing my stacks of postcards to get out the vote, and I’m sending money to
candidates in expected close elections, and I’ll be volunteering to go
door-to-door and drive voters to the polls in nearby Nevada. (I send postcards
through a local group, but you can also get addresses and scripts for postcard
drives from https://www.activateamerica.vote/postcards )
My friend Martha Brockenbrough let me know about a KidLit for Kamala strategy zoom, on August 11, 5:30 PT/8:30 ET. An announcement is here.
Good luck
to us all. If it goes especially badly, perhaps next year I’ll get to blog fun
tips on how to roast marshmallows when the Heritage foundation burns our books.
To better
days, and to working together to get us there.
Dean Gloster is a former
stand-up comedian and a former law clerk at the U.S. Supreme Court. His debut
YA novel DESSERT FIRST is out from Merit Press/Simon Pulse. School Library
Journal called it “a sweet, sorrowful, and simply divine debut novel that teens
will be sinking their teeth into. This wonderful story…will be a hit with fans
of John Green's The Fault in Our Stars and Jesse Andrews's Me and Earl and the
Dying Girl.” His YA short story “Death’s Adopted Daughter” is in the anthology
Spoon Knife 6: Rest Stop from Autonomous Press, and his YA short story, “Proof
of the Existence of Dog” is now out in the anthology Spoon Knife 7:
Transitions. He is at work on two more YA novels, one in draft and the other in
revision, and makes periodic anti-authoritarian limericks and other ramblings
on the app formerly known as Twtter at @deangloster.
I think a lot about this lately--what to do with the time left.
ReplyDeleteI do too--there's a book out now, Four Thousand Weeks, which talks about how that's how many weeks we basically have, to begin with. I'm down to 1,000 left, and I want to use them well, and for good.
ReplyDelete