I’m writing this tonight, knowing not too many people choose to read my blog. I guess, there’s a bit of comfort here. You know, the internet is such an interesting animal. One minute you can be well read, the next, you’re not. I bank on that from time to time. I like knowing my thoughts can be tucked away like a cuddly bear in the closet when the summer has come.

So…

Do you remember when you took that first leap of faith?

I do. I was about 20. I had received this amazing internship at New Line Cinema, and all I really had to do was show up in Los angeles, and the gig was mine. Just…show up. And when it was time to leave Indiana, for the first time, there was an aching, already, in my heart. An aching for the parts of Indy I would miss. An aching for the parts of LA I would find. An aching for that long dotted line down the road I may never be able to let run out, for as long as I live. Watching the blue sky fade to purples and blacks, and that yellow line going on forever. Hoping it shall never end.

Me and my brother wished our father good-bye. He was last in the family on purpose – he’d have the most wisdom to provide. He met us at a local family joint though none of us dared go inside. And we all stood there, talking about anything other than what was about to happen. But we knew. We knew we were about to embark on a mission that would change our lives. (And how it did!) Nich ended up marrying the woman he met on that journey, the same woman he met while in my guidance – and all I can say is – isn’t life grand.

And we knew it was the journey of a lifetime. And it was that brief leap of faith. We knew we were destined from the beginning. Destined to find something – anything. That’s why we didn’t care how it all ended. We left everything behind…everything we had learned in order to start out new. And we took that one leap of faith that slips right through the cracks of most people you and I might know. Because in the end, we may become something better than what we were raised to be. And we can stare back at our mothers, proud in the beaming ecstasy.

I remember hugging my dad and promising to take good care of my brother.

I remember looking out at the skyline and the perfect sunrise to welcome us in.

I remember when I decided to throw it all in, and listen to the voice of unreasonability…and take that one final leap of faith…

I look back at faith confidently, and love to hear the stories….

Write on, my soldiers of screenwriting. May your words carry the weight, mightier than any sword…

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