⫹DESKSPACE⫺ 008: January MMXX

Photo: Ernest Hemingway, in his home in Havana, in shorts, in sandals, like a real man.

Hello—

—from the National Capital Region, where the calendar has flipped and we find ourselves living in a new decade, slate wiped clean, limitless possibilities ahead of us, buoyed by a fresh resolve to be better, to do good in the world, to have the world reciprocate…

//checks the news//

…oh, nevermind.

⫹On My Desk⫺

I can finally share a few pieces of news I’ve been keeping in my back pocket.

First:

Screenplay #1 is one of 27 film projects that have received support from Bell Media’s Harold Greenberg Fund. What this essentially means is that, as part of their script development program, we’re being paid to write the next draft, which is better than not being paid, and another small but important step to wherever this project might eventually land.

As with all things of this sort, what matter most is the validation — the third-party confirmation that this thing you’ve been swimming in (drowning in, actually, and swallowing into your lungs, and in danger of being asphyxiated by) is actually pretty good, and perhaps worth doing. But also the money. Yes, the money is a close second.

Also:

I have been selected to be a writer in residence at Residencia Corazon in Buenos Aires, which means, if all goes according to plan, I will be spending a good portion of the month of May in Argentina, working on new literary project (which is not the Second Book, which I suppose means I’d better have a draft of the Second Book finished by then).

Approximately 15 years ago I was working overnights at a hotel, saving my money, and making plans to move to Buenos Aires. Found an apartment and everything. But I met a girl and followed her to Bangkok instead, which turned out to be the exact right thing to do—we’ll be celebrating our 12th wedding anniversary later this year. Still, I’ve always wanted to go, to live out that long ago fantasy – holed up in a cramped South American space, drinking wine, writing things – and now it looks like I’ll have the chance. Got my cake, eating it, too. Fate deserves more credit, sometimes, for bringing back lost things.

⫹Some Things From 2019⫺

I love Best Of The Year lists, but, for various reasons, always struggle to compile my own. Some of those reasons include: (a) I never feel like I have a diverse enough experience of the year’s various cultural offerings, (b) I’m hyperconscious of my recency bias, (c) the world is such a subjective place, and I worry that our opinion of a particular thing is influenced more by our past experiences and personal expectations than by any innate quality of the thing itself.

I compiled a big long list of things – books and movies and songs and podcasts – that I enjoyed in 2019, and planned to include it here, but so few of those things were actually made in 2019 that it was really just a list of Stuff I Like, and, frankly, who cares. We all like stuff.

Instead, I’ve narrowed it down to the three pieces of art that stuck with me throughout the entire year:

“Best To You” by Blood Orange was the song I listened to almost every day in 2019.

Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari was the book I thought about the most (and referenced the most in casual conversation in dubious attempts to seem learned) in 2019.

You’re Wrong About was the podcast I listened to (and recommended) incessantly in 2019.

As is the tradition over at Dear Cast & Crew, I wrote a short essay about my favourite film of the year, and compiled a very inaccurate Top 10 list, which might as well just be called The 10 Movies I Saw This Year.

That’s all for now—

—just a reminder that, if this email is showing up in your junk folder, add the email address above to your contacts list, or, if you’re a gmail user, simply drag the email into your inbox and mark it safe. But, then again, how would you even know it’s in your junk folder? If it was, it would be there right now, and you wouldn’t be reading this. I don’t know. One of those great philosophical dilemmas, I guess.

In keeping with that, I’ll leave you with this cool little post from Austin Kleon all about the philosopher Diogenes, the O.G. of giving zero fucks.

Who was ultimately more powerful: the conqueror Alexander, who ruled the known world, or the philosopher Diogenes, whom Alexander could neither offer nor threaten with anything? (Alexander reportedly said that if he weren’t Alexander, he would want to be Diogenes. Diogenes said that if he weren’t Diogenes, he’d want to be Diogenes too.)