Why subscribe?
Because you wanna know what cool stuff I’m working on lately.
Why Comment?
“Your writing is never done, it’s only turned in.”
Ms. Bullard, 9th Grade English
I am constantly on the hunt for feedback, ideas for improvement, and general thoughts when it comes to these works. Don’t shy away from saying what’s on your mind when you read through a piece, just let it out and let me know. This is how we both get better as writers.
Why Write?
A reflection written recently
It’s 110 degrees out with the heat itself shimmering in the still air. I sit in the rear seat of my Pontiac Vibe with my notebook next to me, the windows down but the cabin sweltering. I have a wet blue rag around the back of my neck to manage the heat.
I put up with it because I was working on Awakeners, a screenplay about a religious cult terrorizing a couple on the brink of divorce. I felt like I was really onto something and I’d be good goddamned if I let the weather get in the way. I would find a way to manage because the idea mattered.
My writing used to always be in service of either my musician dreams or my filmmaker dreams. As a 12-year-old, this manifested itself as song lyrics and poems. I would hole up in my room with a journal and listen to Christian Nu Metal, absorbing the words and synthesizing their rhythms into my own soup. This mimicry of form would continue on to Ray Bradbury where I learned about simile & metaphor; and further toward Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s lyrics where I learned of intentional obfuscation amid cryptic imagery.
I would display some examples of these but I burned all of my journals in 2006. I can’t remember the precise reason for this decision but it seemed to revolve around starting over. I set the fire in an old metal trashcan on the patio next to the pool. My mother then came to investigate, offering the suggestion to do it in the fireplace instead since it’s a more controlled environment.
Part of what drove me to start that fire was that there appeared to be nothing happening around me all throughout high school. All my stories from that time took place in an alternate reality or a faraway world for this very reason. I’ve always dabbled in speculative fiction because the mundanity of my upbringing warranted the creation of outlandish or mystical circumstances. I look back on that time now and realize that a lot was happening in my city, I just didn’t notice the city’s overnight boom and shift during the Dubya Era. That could be attributed to the fact that all the new homes and strip malls felt like just more of the same mundanity.
This all speaks to a big reason why I write: it is a world which I can control. When everything around me swirls as chaos, there remains a place that I have full ownership of. It’s analogous to the reason why I wholeheartedly believe in God: chaos scares the piss out of me.
I started writing for myself and not an imaginary audience in late 2019 when I read Daring Greatly by Brene Brown. It helped me come to admit my need for fame and that my need for recognition was harming my writing. At the time, I was in trade school for Rail Vehicle Maintenance and doing my best to give up on every one of my dreams. I wanted to follow in the footsteps of my father and grandfather and go to work for the railroad and just quit with this horseshit creativity for awhile. I didn’t want to write anymore because others had yet to recognize my work.
Upon reading Brown’s work, I realized that the ouroboros that was my thoughts of failure weren’t the end of the world. I was only 30 and still had the chance to find success as a writer. Film wasn’t the end-all-be-all I’d made it out to be: I needed to let go of feeling like a failure because I tried my best for 7 years to make it happen and it didn’t coalesce.
Instead, I realized, it was writing that would keep me going. And that I needed to get a full time job as soon as possible because I would be writing for myself which meant it could become a serious hobby instead of a (shake your) money maker. I saw that the written word was my ultimate goal, not film. It was okay therefore that I didn’t come up big in the film industry because it wasn’t anything more than an equitably stressful and exciting experience--a detour from my ultimate purpose.
In short, I write because I’d hate myself otherwise. I write because it’s more fun than passive entertainment. I write because it’s an activity with a ritual I can control that helps me focus my thoughts away from my doubts, worries, and concerns. I dunno, man, it’s just that for as long as I can remember I’ve had an itch inside of me to create and iterate and express myself. I’ve always loved writing, back all the way to that first story written during recess in fourth grade where the Dodgers played the Giants and I shortened the lines to add tension to the situation. Anymore, I simply enjoy the process of putting one word in front of the other until it all makes sense.
It’s fitting that I finish this essay in 105 degree heat on the patio of a Coffee Bean, chasing after the idea even when all the seats inside are taken, driven to continue to put words on the page. From the tippy top to the biggidy bottom of the emotional sine wave and back again, writing has been there for me. It created a throughline for my life that I can see so clearly. And so, along with the itch, I am now writing for the sake of itself. I see this huge body of work behind me in all the boxes of journals in the garage and in my Google Drive and all I want to do is keep expanding this portfolio and leave as big of a thumbprint as possible. I just dig writing, it’s really that simple. It’s not really fame that I write for anymore and finally, it’s the opportunity to impart a new idea upon the reader and to grant them passage to a certain set of emotions, even if it’s only my friends and family, even if it’s next to nobody.
What Do Those Stats Mean?
The baseball nerd in me is really into data-driven quantification of results. Check out Appendix I: Advanced Metrics Compendium for a full breakdown.
Dedication
This page is dedicated to my wonderful fiancé, Minna. It’s no coincidence that I’ve grown and flourished as a writer during our relationship. She maintains a positive outlook that keeps me moored and tethered when I’m trying to be my own worst critic.
My favorite example of this was when I was telling her that Avalanche was taking too long. After four years, my interior monologue was starting to go “Why haven’t you finished yet, Evan, you’re taking to long, Evan, you need to get this out there, Evan—” She stopped me with the words, “Yeah, but you haven’t quit yet.” And that kinda awoke me to realize that I’m a very happy Sisyphus who’s enjoyed every element of the novel’s journey.
This one’s for you, my love:
