INTO THE FUTURE

by Gina Sestak

OK, I admit it.  I'm a bit behind the times.  Ten days, to be exact.  That's no reason not to celebrate, though, is it?

I didn't go out on New Year's Eve - stayed home and drank pomegranate juice instead of champagne, getting high on antioxidents.

I don't have anything against drinking alcohol.  It just tends to make me sleepy, and I'm tired enough already that I don't need help from chemicals.

I started this year with no expectations.  I'm not anticipating finally getting a novel published.  I don't have any WIP I need to finish.  I'm crossing my fingers on those Steeltown Entertainment Project entries, but not holding my breath.  As for the two feature-length screenplays, I'm still doing everything I can to get them made into movies.  At this point, that's a money issue, best left to folks who know about that kind of thing, but believe me, if I hit the Powerball, I know what I'll be doing with my millions!

I haven't made any resolutions, but my plan for this year is to do things that are fun.  So here's my top five list of things I plan to do this year just for my own amusement:

1.   Watch movies.  I love movies in general, but I've developed an unquenchable addiction to Bollywood films in general and those starring Shah Rukh Khan in particular.   He's the world's greatest actor, and that's no lie.



2.   Dance.  Folk dancing is a long-time passion (maybe one reason I like Bollywood so much).  I'm clumsy by nature, but once I get into the flow, the music carries me.  And it's such a treat to be moving in unison with other people for a change, in contrast to my usual sense of being a square peg in a round world.

3.   Learn.  I bit the bullet and registered for two more courses at Pittsburgh Filmmakers.  As I've mentioned in past posts, Filmmakers' classes tend to be labor intensive, requiring many hours of outside work.  And the Acting for the Camera course I took last semester turned out to be one of the most terrifying things I've ever done, stripping down self image and exposing all the flaws, not only in surface appearance but in my very way of being in the world.  So I signed up for the follow up class, and for a short writing course on Screenplay Character Development.  I figure that can't hurt.

4.   Write.  The other day, when I mentioned the screenplays, etc. I've been working on, a friend said, "You have so much self-discipline!"  I had to correct her.  It would take more discipline than I possess to make myself stop writing.  I did more collaborative writing last year, on three of the screenplays, and that's a special kind of fun, even when nobody provides a special cake.  [See my December 20, 2010 post for details.]  Maybe that's one of the things I like about filmmaking - it takes a village to make a movie, and just being part of such a creative process is incredibly energizing.

5.   Try things I've never done before.  To that end, I'm pitching a class to a Pitt program on a subject near and dear to my heart - more on that later, once I find out if it flies or not.

I don't think these can count as resolutions.  Resolutions for me have always boiled down to: Stop being the way I am and start being the way I'm not.  These are different.  They're more along the line of:  Start being the way I really am.  Have fun.

How about you?  What are your plans for 2011?

YOU CAN'T JUST WRITE

by Gina Sestak

Sometimes it seems as if all we writers ever do is write. We picture ourselves hunched over a keyboard, minds awash with scenes of murder and mayhem while our less creative, rational brain puzzles out the complex interaction of nouns and verbs. Well, let me tell you something: You can't just write. No matter how great the imagination, every once in awhile a writer has to dip into the real world and do something. We need to venture forth and experience things for ourselves.

Hence the past weekend, which I spend at a gathering in rural Pennsylvania learning folk dances.

That's the real world? you ask.

Kinda. Sure. It's just a step or two removed -- no pun intended!

And folk dance camp is the perfect place for a writer. Think about it -- or rather, don't think about it. Get up and dance. There is something liberating about rhythmic motion. It clears the mind and lifts the spirits. It's even exercise. Plus, it's fun, in that non-verbal way that sliding down a sliding board is fun. Fun like grown-ups hardly ever get to have.

Perhaps I should back up a pace or two and explain. Recreational folk dancing involves doing traditional dances of various nations. People of all ages participate and, since many dances are done in a line (think Zorba the Greek) or circle, you do not need to have partner. You do not have to be graceful enough to avoid stepping on a partner -- as long as you move in the same general direction as everybody else, you'll do no harm.

I've been dancing for several years with a group that meets every Tuesday night in Oakland, the same group that sponsored the dance camp. We spent the weekend dancing in a big old barn in SNPJ, Pennsylvania. Yes, that really is the name of the place -- it's an acronym for the Slovenian words for Slovene National Benefit Society, which runs the recreational center.

So, what does one do at a folk dance camp? you are probably wondering.

Well, you, uh, dance.

There's more to it than that, of course. Two guest instructors, David Vinski and Lee Otterholt, took turns teaching. There was a lot of hand-holding, hopping, stepping, turning, and stomping, with the occasional clap, shout or whistle thrown in, all done to energizing music. There were also meals and parties, drinking and dancing 'til the wee hours.

If you think you might like that kind of thing, why not come dancing Tuesday night?

Or, if you'd rather stay at your keyboard, Yemenite on down and help me plot out "Murder at the Folk Dance Camp." I can almost see it now . . .