Driving Hazzard

For now, I'll stick to reading fiction instead of writing it. 
Picture credit to the fabulous Keely Johnson.

When I started writing, I was writing fiction. I have one terrible, 16 page screenplay and a handful of novel length fan fictions that are the result of my middle school zealous. Then I joined the newspaper and worked hard to sound like a journalist. I've spent so much time working with facts and keeping my voice fair and balanced that my creativity muscle has atrophied. Now the part of my brain that wrote fiction has short circuited. Then, today happened.

I was driving and singing to my Hedwig & The Angry Inch soundtrack at the top of my lungs as if I was Hedwig herself, a typical occurrence for me in my car. Inspiration struck. That piece of my brain started sparking and going just like it used to! I was dreaming up fictional characters while I was pretending to be Neil Patrick Harris! There was romance, self discovery, and depth! An actual plot line was bouncing in my head. It was miraculous. I rushed home, sat down with a notebook and tried to flesh it all out the best I could. But it was all gone.

This isn't the first time this has happened. Pretty much every time I play Broadway diva in the car, my brain tries to be John Green. The only solution, it seems, is to find some way to drive and write at the same time without dying. Alas, my writing process is a disaster waiting to happen. Victor Hugo wrote naked, Kafka did jumping jacks in the window in order to spark their creativity. Me? I still have to work out the major details in my creative process. So for now, I'll stick to nonfiction. It's a lot less dangerous and embarrassing. 

I long for a day when I'm no longer consuming great fiction, but writing it too. I analyze all the books I read, searching for what the writer has done right and what they've done wrong. But how fair can my reviews be if I can't write a decent piece of fiction without a full tank of gas and a scribe? I could write an entire essay on the importance of YA fiction, yet I have nothing to contribute to the genre myself. I see that as a terrible problem.

These Females are Strong as Hell

It's not often that you stumble across a TV show that's equal parts goofy, thought provoking, and hilarious. Tina Fey and her 30 Rock  partner in crime, Robert Carlock have achieved this and more with their Netflix Original, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. My spring break was spent giddily binge watching the entire first season, a magnificent combination of optimism and biting satire that makes Kimmy an addictive delight. The show follows the titular Kimmy Schmidt (Ellie Kemper), one of the "Indiana Mole Women" that were recently discovered after being trapped in an underground bunker for 15 years by a doomsday cult. After an appearance on the Today Show, Kimmy decides to start a new life in New York City and leave the last 15 years behind her.

Tina Fey is everything I want to be as a writer. 30 Rock has had me laughing so hard I've had tears in my eyes. Every word that comes out of Kenneth Parcel's mouth is a gift to us all. (But let's save the 30 Rock praise for another post. I could go on for ages.) Kimmy takes Fey and Carlock's satire into a different direction than their previous project. The humor is rooted in optimism and silliness, much like another favorite, Park's and Recreation. Despite her obviously horrible life, Kimmy just can't help but smile. After years of thinking the world was over, she's excited to become a part of it once again. 

The supporting cast is a colorful variety of egomaniacs, goofy Mid westerners, and one unfortunately named Vietnamese immigrant. Together they create a diverse, more grown up contrast to Kimmy's optimism. But her hope is infectious, and every episode of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt will leave you feeling like you can do just about anything in the world as that ridiculously catchy theme song rings in your ears.