Hi Stacey

Hi, Stacey–

It’s’ very early. I’ve been up a couple hours with insomnia. Just had a cocoa. It was thick and velvety and I drank it from my current favorite mug.

Wanted to write you about some bizarre coincidences. I’ve said this before, but I’ve had a lot of uncanny meetings in this life. I joked with my sister recently, maybe there’s a magnet inside me.

The long story short is anytime I fixate on a person, even accidentally, they appear in my life. I have worked with every artist I ever idolized. I have randomly bumped into most characters I’ve been intrigued by. I end up buzzing around or being buzzed around. Some examples:

-I loved One Tree Hill in high school, was my favorite show. I found out my favorite actress from the series moved to Chicago when I did. The Secret was popping off at the time, and I very firmly secreted meeting her. Two years later she played an improv show with one of my ensembles.

-I went to the SNL exhibit at the Broadcast Museum when I was still a teacher in Chicago. I had to go at like 8 AM before school. I was the only person in the place. As I walked through the long gallery of cast member headshots I honed in on my favorite player, and took a selfie of us. Within the week I was in LA and worked for her.

-Later when I worked for that same actor again I was finding a musician for our project. I picked a guy from TikTok. I poked around his pages, not finding a great avenue to reach out. I decided I’d DM another day. The next morning he walked into the cafe I was writing in.

-I obsessively watched the sketches by a certain writer/director when I studied at the big comedy theatre. Six years later we were designing a TV show together.

-For that show I pitched this gal I had met at a party to star. Our exec said I needed to think a little bigger, my dream star. I chose my dream star. Cut to two years later, the gal I met at a party was playing a different character I created for that original actor. And three years later I started writing a movie with my dream star.

And that’s truly just the beginning. I’ve run into one of my biggest comedy idols on the sidewalk. My mother foresaw me working for another generational talent. My journey working in entertainment has been very very hard, and I’ve had some very very lucky breaks too.

Unless, as I’ve wondered before, the lucky breaks aren’t luck as much as you. Or something like you. Is my passion so powerful it can affect my algorithm? Like, the living algorithm? Is everyone’s? I guess if your passion moves your internet use, your internet use will pull reality behind it.

My horoscope yesterday said something like, “Share your process.” Today it says, “Discussing work methods with others will unlock ideas that have been stuck inside your head.” So, a little of that here too.

Had a great writing session with my writing partner (aforementioned) Friday. We’d struggled the week before with a scene. Two characters at odds, having their “moment.” We spent hours in her office fussing over the thing. We shaped it, we discussed, we started different places, we even did an improv. Eventually it was after 5 and enough was enough. We didn’t get too down. I’m proud of us for that. She was headed out of town for a shoot, so we’d pick up a full week later.

I got to her house about 1. We gabbed for the first hour, as tends to be our way. It’s the habit we fell into, and at some point she sort of tried to push us out of the practice. Like, let’s just get right to writing. But I encouraged, the gabbing is part of the writing. I’m not blowing smoke either. That’s how it works. My partner chats about her friends and her outings and her family and I view it all through the spyglass of our film. I just do. It’s how I operate.

I’ve had the experience many many times, an artist I am collaborating with confessing all sorts of things to me. Then confessing they’ve never confessed such confessions. I don’t mind, though sometimes they mind, and then that can become a sad situation for me. But! The times artists don’t mind, or, even better, the times such confessions free the artist–our bond becomes stronger.

So then she and I got into the script about 2. We’ve both marinated on our previous work and had new shapes to offer. She pitched a version. I nodded, liked, considered. I pitched a version. She nodded, considered. She didn’t necessarily like, though there were some details that seemed right.

We moved toward a lumpy outline. We decided to cut all of last week’s attempts and start fresh. We hopped right in. Then we jotted to the end. Then we slugged through the middle. We weren’t satisfied with the climax. She’d pitched a good few lines, but I didn’t think they hit the theme at the best angle. She saw it too. We distracted ourselves talking about the Mormon mom show for a while.

I pitched a line, she said, “I was about to say the exact same thing.” I know she was. It happens about once a session now. Our minds have fused. Her stomach growls, the protein bars we usually eat are still out for delivery. I say I have a banana. Neither of us eat.

Her repair man comes and I take a few stabs at banter. I try not to open texts or emails during sessions because it can take me so long to return back to the story at hand. A rogue email during a session makes me feel like I’m a stuffed animal in a claw machine.

Nevertheless I have to check when my lawyer writes. I sort that out quickly. But that ten minute aside does eject me from what we had going. We find it again as Beyonce plays. My partner wants to use her for the trailer.

Once we have it we get it all down quickly and it’s near-perfect. We read through for a tweak pass and at 4:40, we have it. We consider chatting about the next scene but decide it will be a good place to start Monday.

My partner says she is so proud of us and I agree. We wrote something really complex and funny and true to us, and we did it without burning out or losing our cools. We can be impatient creators, the two of us.

Now, Stacey, that was all a long long aside to say–wow my magnet was pulling via my writing partner. She attended THE fancy Oscars party. And who was at her table?! Another actress, yes. And that manosphere influencer. And the iconic feminist of government scandal lore. AND one of my favorite pop star’s rumored queer exes! AND the CEO of OpenAI. My brain nearly exploded when she rattled off this list. I said, “You sat at dinner with my subconscious.” It genuinely feels like she did.

I don’t know what else to really say about any of this. But it was worth saying, I thought. The world is getting so small. Tinier by the day it seems. Is any of this real?

I feel like I’ve been getting a lot of signs lately. They don’t always match the logic of reality, but the signs couldn’t be clearer. I’m choosing to follow the signs. Send me a different sign if I’m fudging up.

xoxo

Alice