Do What You Love and the Money Will Follow. Rrrrrright.

How many times have we heard or read this slogan? How many of us have done what we love, and we're still waiting for the money?

I've pursued a number of passions, and had some great experiences doing so. But the financial return on my investment in each case has not just been nil, but negative.

If we are to believe the "Do What You Love" phrase, then merely practicing a hobby should naturally fill up our bank accounts.

The truth, however, is far different.

For me, the money's always followed when I've done something I didn't particularly love.

However, I find tons of subjects interesting. But "Love?" That's asking quite a lot.

It's time to nuke this advice and and show it for the sentimental platitude it really is! I prefer to revise the phrase into "Do something you find interesting that also offers a salary or other cash renumeration and the money will follow."

While you make up your own newer, more accurate version, consider the potential dangers of "Doing What You Love," as described in Beware of Turning Hobbies into Jobs at Gaping Void.

And for a very effective dismantling of a similarly erroneous aphorism, check out I keep reading the argument that “Money can’t buy happiness.” It’s not that simple! at The Happiness Project.

Why You Might Change Your Passions and/or Dreams in Mid-Life

I used to be all about performing. Onstage, in concerts. Watching others tackle my original work. Paying big bucks to see the masters at work. I've sung in Carnegie Hall and on CBS for the Kennedy Center Honors. I've watched as television actors made my words their own and gave life to my characters in Los Angeles. I've witnessed firsthand some of the most legendary performers of the 20th century.

So why isn't it all that important for me to work in the performing arts anymore? I have my reasons, which I'll list below. Perhaps you'll recognize some of them yourself, if you're challenged by a major shift in your goals.

But first, check out what Hugh Mcleod has to say about this phenomenon, in his post Allow Your Work To Age With You at Gaping Void.

Hugh advocates quitting and moving on. I'm analyzing the possible reasons why one would quit that support Hugh's take on the subject. The reasons?

Those things are no longer fun.
Pursuing them makes no business sense - too much money expended for less and less returns.
Quitting allows for investigating other options and opportunities.
You've found something better.
It was never about [fill in the blank], and you've had enough of what it's about.
You've lost faith in the issue/idea/area.
You've lost respect for the issue/idea/area.
You've fulfilled your dream and don't need to go further.
The money didn't follow.
You feel there are too many sacrifices you continue to have to make.
It was someone else's dream in the first place.
It was more about proving something about yourself than a love for it (the issue, idea or area.)
You're much more enamored of part of the dream than the whole thing.
You've found easier/cheaper/better ways of working at your dream.
You ran out of ideas.
You've decided the amount of work you have to do isn't worth it in the long run.
It really is too hard to pull off.

I used to dream about making movies. Now I dream about travel, following the sun, being outdoors, athletic activity.

But it is strange to say goodbye to a passion that's taken up so much time and energy. But it needs to happen, since the passion is just not there anymore.

A Conversation About Passion, Dreams, and Waking Up

A compelling article in Sunday's New York Times, titled Often a Swan, Rarely a Queen, concerns a little-discussed problem with chasing our passions and our dreams. What happens when we get close to our dreams, but they're never fully realized? The article focuses on life in the rarified and hyper-specialized atmosphere of a world-class ballet company, but it describes an issue that can be universal:

"For the few who survive the grueling competition, relentless discipline and mental pressure to make it into one of the world’s first-rank companies, this tale of recognized talent and continuing achievement frequently ends soon thereafter. The new company member is now just one of a hundred or so other brilliant talents. When the level is that high, the exceptional becomes ordinary, and the dancer discovers that perhaps she will not be on a poster on bedroom walls."

It's a realization I've come to in my own life, as I have come to understand (perhaps too well) that I'll never win the Pulitzer for playwrighting, receive an oscar for best screenplay nomination, or take the stage as a competitive bodybuilder.

Hugh McLeod, in Post Dreaming Reality on Gaping Void, mirrored my thoughts a couple of days ago with this cartoon:


I especially like his words "kill slowly," as well as his succinct appraisal, in the accompanying text, of the stage we all probably get to:

"Then you get to a certain age and you realize that the time for "One Day" is over. You're either doing it, or you're not. And if you're not, a feeling of bitter disappointment starts hitting you deep into the marrow. Which explains why we all know so many people in their 30s and 40s having mid-life crisis'."

This reality could be a function of age - I am 50, after all, and I can feel my life adapting to all kinds of realities these days. Unfortunately, there no manual readily available to help us through this time. Something on the order of "How to understand your adolescent," but for the newly-middle-aged, would be beneficial.

It could be a fault in the way our society works. Too many dream careers require huge sacrifices and still leave many without the big fulfillment, perhaps because our vision of success requires huge, powerful, and largely financial outcomes.

I've posted about this before, and I've come to believe this passion thing is way overrated. But if you don't feel the way I do, you can still find plenty of information out there that will tell you how to Take your first step and Achieve Your Dream.

Some are disappointed, though, when their energy wanes in the pursuit. I've been battling the conflict between what I've always thought I've wanted to do, and what I really want to do now (which are two very different things.) Thom Singer may be feeling the conflict too, as McLeod's Post Dreaming Reality "flies in the face of my current quest."

But Brazen Careerist's Penelope Trunk offers us a solution. In Bad career advice: Do what you love, she counsels:

"If you tell yourself that your job has to be something you’d do even if you didn’t get paid, you’ll be looking for a long time. Maybe forever. So why set that standard? The reward for doing a job is contributing to something larger than you are, participating in society, and being valued in the form of money."

According to Penelope, "We are each multifaceted, multilayered, complicated people..." and "None us loves just one thing." According to me, getting rid of an old dream makes room for a new one. The trick is to recognize the new dream as one of many that may not bear any resemblance to the original.

Do Winners (sometimes) Quit?
Advice we've heard all our lives may be hazardous to our health.

Persistence is the keyword in life. From an early age onward, we're taught to keep at it, whatever the task, and not be swayed into nonaction by a little bit of failure. One of the first questions we're asked as children is "what do you want to be when you grow up?" The question turns into "what's your passion" once we get into our first job after college (when we're probably so far away from our passion that we just don't know it.) We're advised to Pursue Your Dream and Follow Your Bliss, and ignore the naysayers who counsel us "you probably won't succeed writing one act plays in Minnesota."

We're instructed to soldier on, whatever the cost.

As reported in Quitting Can Be Good for You (part of The New York Times Magazine's "7th Annual Year in Ideas" issue), researchers "found that teenage girls who are unable to disengage themselves from trying to attain hard-to-reach goals exhibited increased levels of the inflammatory molecule C-reactive protein (C.R.P.), which in adults is linked with diabetes, heart disease and early aging."

Now whether or not these findings are observable in the population at large is not known. But it tells me that my decisions to give up highly frustrating, little- chance-of-success goals may be a good thing. Even if it goes against everything I've been taught.

I do know that quitting a couple of projects I've spent a number of years on has opened up brainpower and time for me to pursue other goals.

13 Tips on How To Write A Screenplay

Even though I've stopped trying to write the Perfect Zombie Movie Screenplay (or any screenplay whatsoever), I'm pretty confident that there are many people out there who harbor the screenwriting dream. The cliche in Hollywood is that everyone drives around with a script in their back pocket. I tend to think that's close to the way it is across the country, if not around the world. For you Hinterland Screenwriters, like myself, the script isn't in your back pocket, it's up there in your head.

But getting it out fraught with dangers, procrastination being one of them. However, the sooner you start committing words to your laptop, the sooner you will feel dumb, foolish, immature, unstable, lonely, jittery, ridiculous, and bipolar. Like every other writer who's ever lived. Onward, then, to the 13 Tips:

1. Get clear on what stage your at. Are you a total neophyte beginner - the words haven't left your brain yet. Or are you further along - you complain so much to friends after you've seen a movie that they no longer invite you to drinks or dinner afterwards.

2. Realize right up front that you are doing Actual Work and you are Not Getting Paid.

3. Come up with a sellable idea. This is where the term "High Concept" comes in. How can you tell what's High Concept and what's not? Anything these days with Zombies is High Concept. Your coworkers foibles and the boredom of your job are not.

4. Create an awesome villain. And go for an extreme. Villains are either pure and simply people (think Hannibal Lector) or require makeup, costuming and special effects (think HAL, Darth and Sauron.) Even better: if the villain is on the same side as your hero!

5. Remove this thought from your brain and never let it escape your lips: "Somebody in Hollywood will be interested in this because it's in the news." Nothing could be further from the truth. And if Hollywood is interested, chances are they've got scripts already written. By the time you send your's in, the world has changed.

6. Study 3-Act Screenwriting Structure. After you've written your first draft. Nothing keeps a writer from completing a script or other piece of work like the "having to make it perfect the first time through" mindset.

7. Allow yourself to write crap for your first draft. Absolute crap. "So bad your five year old could do light-years better" crap. It's the only way. Sorry, but it is.

8. Resign yourself to actually writing. There is no market for ideas. Ideas attached to incredibly-well-executed scripts, however...

9. Make a list of all the movies you know that don't start with a bang. Then ignore this list, and start your screenplay with a bang.

10. Google "Screenwriting Mistakes" and Don't Make Them.

11. Write great dialogue. Stuff that sounds real, dilineates character, advances story, engages viewers, inspires actors, and is economical yet not at all terse. If you find you can't write dialogue, then listen to everyone who's around you. 24/7/365. Write down what they're saying. If you're not getting stares, angry looks, or outright threats to stop, you aren't doing it enough. If you still can't write great dialogue, find someone who can.

12. Fully believe that you can come up with a script that is better than most movies you've ever seen. Just about anyone can. The prevailing view among scriptreaders in Hollywood is that most scripts in their "To Be Read On Saturday Night" pile are awful. And they are, because they're trying to be like all the other scripts in Hollywood that actually go into production. So while anyone can write a better script, Hollywood is set up to always say "No." Which leaves the Hinterland Screenwriter between the horns, dilemma-wise.

13. Consider writing a play. You'll improve your dialogue craft immensely. Chances are you'll get a play produced easier, or you'll find actors who will do readings for you so you can hear how your writing plays out loud. And if you're really lucky, you'll see your work onstage, that will be enough, and you won't have to begin writing a screenplay because your dreams have been fulfilled.
________________________________________________________________
Why 13 Tips? Because writing a screenplay that actually gets optioned, sold or produced is 99% luck and 1% hard work, dedication, talent, craft, and passion. So I concede to bad luck right up front. You might think it's the other way around, 1% luck and all, but that's because you're seeing things from the hinterlands, where it can seem pretty roomy. It took me awhile to fully realize how the percentages shake out, so I don't fault anyone for their world view. There was no way I could understand it without some experience myself. The good thing is that it takes very little experience to facilitate dawn on your awareness. And yes, that picture's from Adaptation, a great movie to watch if you're wondering what writing is like.

How To Get The Job Of Your Dreams
Part 2

Yesterday I posted my thoughts on Fast Company's short slide presentation titled "How To Get The Job Of Your Dreams.". After weighing in on the first three quotes, I promised my opinions on the second three today, and here they are:

"People who think they should just get things for who they are or whatever are the people who don’t make it. If you want to follow what you want to do, you have to have that extra drive and effort that nobody else has." -- Fatal1ty. Professional Video Gamer.

Not sure what he's saying here in the first sentence - I think it's "don't expect an engraved invitation." As for the second sentence - I'm tired of people saying you have to work so bloody hard that you might end up with a quintuple bypass and a stroke on your way to your bliss. Do we honestly believe everyone has to do it this way? I think this idea is just as bad as "magical thinking" - or "if you want it hard enough, you'll get it."

"The very first thing you have to do when you want to find that job you are passionate about is you have to be honest with yourself to a point where it may almost be painful… Because many times when you say this is what I want to do, everyone around you will look at you like you’ve lost your mind… You have to be able to handle the pressure and outside criticism." -- Rebecca Donohue. Stand-up Comedian.

I really agree with the first part of this quote. I've come to a point in my life (with my script writing) where I've been incredibly honest with myself, and it's been a painful decision to quit - although it's felt good too. And it's opened up new vistas for me.

"For people who want to get into music -- if you want to be an artist use the Internet. Make a cool video and put it on YouTube. There are so many amazing things made possible now with the net and with MySpace and so many ways to get your music out there." -- Mark Ronson. Music Producer and Artist.

Rings true for me. I wish I had today's resources twenty years ago when I was studying communications in grad school. Actually, I learned from the ground up, shooting and editing 16mm black and white film by hand, creating video with large, heavy equipment, learning the basics of lighting - key, back and fill. So I feel I have hands-on experience. But only up to a point. Now we're faced with zillions of people creating content online. And we haven't done it long enough to see whether or not it's sustainable by the "masses." I mean, how long can anyone create without seeing some sort of monetary return?

I've thought and looked at lists of people and thought some more and I still can't come up with anyone I know who's working in their dream job. I've come up with people who worked - in the past - in their dream job, but the dream changed.

I don't see a whole lot of writing on that.

How To Get The Job Of Your Dreams
Part 1

This just in from the "How To Do It" file... Fast Company has a short slide show titled "How To Get The Job Of Your Dreams." I was looking for other information on their site, but this drew me in like a black hole. I spent all of 1 minute 30 seconds viewing it, as it's very very short. The advice, quick quotes from notable people, hits the usual notes: give it your all, don't quit, pay attention, analyze, start small. No mention of luck. No mention of "surround yourself with people who work in their dream jobs" (although that might be difficult, as they're usually working.)

Still, it made me think, especially as I'm looking for a job. Here are my thoughts (in bold) on each quote. As there are six quotes in all, I'll run three today and three tomorrow:

"Never give up. People go 99% of the way and then just like when running a race, they get really tired towards the end. But it's those that go the last 1% who are successful. Edison was right: it's 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration. Keep going because you never know when you might succeed -- success sneaks up on you." -- Jim Clash. Adventure Columnist, Fortune Magazine.

I give up, because sometimes I have to keep my sanity. Getting tired towards the end - that's one thing, and I'm used to that. Hating the race, or at least no longer finding it interesting (which is where I am now), is another thing entirely.

"An indirect path to where you eventually want to arrive may be better than taking a direct route. As a designer, it's beneficial to make oneself as eclectic and interdisciplinary as possible. Take auxiliary classes. Because while you're studying algae or even sheep diseases, you never know what information you might get and how that might end up influencing your design work someday." -- Pam Greene. Senior Design Innovator, Nike Considered Line.

That's the way my mind works. I like this quote the best, as it's something I advocate for others, as well as myself. Keeping options open, and interests too, have steered me into some pretty interesting jobs. Maybe by using this tactic my next job will be a "dream." The trick for me, though, is being open to new horizons on a daily basis. The older I get, the more I feel I need to revisit past comforts.

"All you have to do is go create your dream job if it doesn't exist. Don’t wait around for someone to hand you the perfect job -- go out and start making it happen." -- Steve Hager. Editor, High Times Magazine.

This is the "just do it" idea, and I've followed this advice before. The problem comes when I've met with some success crafting my own route, but it didn't result in a sustainable income.

And a final thought (for today) - I don't think I know anyone who is working in his or her dream job! I'll have to do a little research, and I hope to have some details for tomorrow's post (which will contain the final three quotes from the slideshow.)

Don't Let Your Dreams Ruin Your Life

The New York Times has an interesting article about the film industy's recent "PitchFest" in Los Angeles. For $395.00, you, the hinterland screenwriter, have seven minutes to sell a Hollywood broker on your story. "[F]ewer than one in 10 pitches were worth following up..." cites one industry rep. Another says listening to screenwriter ideas is only "sort of invigorating." And an agent confesses "I feel like I’m on ‘American Idol,’ and I’m crushing people’s dreams..."

The article is a good companion to a letter popping up on Craigslist (I found it through the "BS Observer" blog) labeling unfair the constant practice of "paying" creative people with a "great opportunity" to show their work instead of money:

"Would you offer a neurosurgeon the “opportunity” to add your name to his resume as payment for removing that pesky tumor? (Maybe you could offer him “a few bucks” for “materials”. What a deal!)"

I link the two pieces because most of those 200 PitchFesting screenwriters have other jobs and write on their own time. All of them wrote their scripts for free - it's the industry standard, and they're called "spec scripts." Hollywood even knows your chances are miniscule - the industry constantly bemoans the sorry state of most scripts.

But there are plenty of screenwriting gurus who'll gladly take your money for a chance to sit at their feet. If you add the $395.00 PitchFest entrance fee - really $400 with today's economics - to your writing time, plus the costs of copying, computer programs like Final Draft, and contest entry fees, you start to wonder if it's worth it. Especially since the odds are you'll never see your screenplay produced.

One of my guilty TV pleasures is "America's Got Talent." I watch it for the real talents, not to laugh at the acts that bomb. The contest seems to breed many mediocre acts who claim they're pursuing their passion and doing what they love. They sink significant amounts of time and money into getting themselves just a notch above the next person; could they be using their energy to pursue other things?

Society puts enormous pressure on us to achieve great things no matter what we do - and especially when in pursuit of our dreams. There should be no fault in trying, then moving on if doesn't work out. Seth Godin's got a book which I believe is all about this. Titled The Dip, it's been the first message I've seen that says it's ok to quit when hard work isn't getting you where you want to go.

I also believe there are alternatives to full-out quitting. Pamela Slim's post titled "5 Reasons to consider downsizing your vision of an ideal life" at her blog "Escape from Cubicle Nation" contains some awesome advice that won't put your dreams on the chopping block. And wouldn't you know, Penelope Trunk addresses this same issue today in "Choose a career path that makes you scared of failure" at her blog "Brazen Careerist."


Full disclosure: I'm in the middle of "nixing" my dream to win the Best Screenplay Oscar for a number of reasons, mostly outlined in the post series "It May Not Be Your Passion If..." And I'm really delving deep into finding what other things I might be better at, that I'd really love doing.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#13 - You kill off other, genuine interests in order to pursue your dream.

I think we Boomer types were sold a bill of goods when we were growing up. "You can be whatever you want," we were told. The subtext was "pick one thing to be and work at it as hard as you can."

The trouble is, I was always (and still am) interested in so many things.

Space. Classical music. Quantum theory (for the lay person). Science. Art. Bicycling. Mountains. Greek and Roman history. Interpersonal relationships. A great summer's day. And so many others.

Movies and theater are in there too. But not to the extent that they cancel out all the others. And so, I was confused for a long time, thinking I needed to spend more time on one thing, instead of allowing myself to pick and choose from among many.

This is especially true for someone like me, who isn't a prodigy in anything. I think the prodigies (the Spielbergs, Stephen Kings, and others who excel at one thing) have been held up too long as the benchmark. "Be like them," we've been led to believe.

When the real message should be "be like you."

[pictured: David finally meets the Blue Fairy who can grant him his wish in Spielberg's AI: Artificial Intelligence.]

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#12 - You're finely crafting in an arena that calls for quickfastandinahurry.

My "career" in writing drama has always frustrated me in one aspect - I'm neither a fast nor a prolific writer. It took me a long, long time to make characters and plot work together, not to mention dialogue and description. Sometimes months would go by while I labored over the same tired scene, and then one day I'd get slammed with a burst of brilliance on how to make it work. This type of crafting works rather well in the theatre world. But in screenwriting? You need to have multiple scripts tossed around at any single time - and even then you'll probably get a "pass" (i.e., not interested) on each one. So you have to go back and churn out more. Trouble is, I'm just not that kind of writer, and I will never be.

Even though I've "technically" given up on screenwriting - or to put it more positively, I'm exploring the zillion other options I'm interested in - I still play with ideas in my head. Like the superhero outfit that takes the wearer's body and transforms it to finely-tuned muscularity - but only in the wearer's eyes. So while this idea fascinates me, I know it would probably be another two years before I get anything down on paper that I would trust showing to anyone. I'm just not the quickfastandinahurry kind of craftsman!

Read the other posts in this series...

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#11 - Your passion’s in a field where there’s a huge gap between amateur and professional – and you won’t be happy until you ascend to the very top.

I’m not talking about neurosurgery here. Or the always-identified “rocket science.”

I’m speaking about Olympic downhill skiing, Broadway musical composing, WWE wrestling, and other endeavors that take a certain type of talent, years of learning, body type and/or physical expertise.

The key here is knowing where you’re going to be happy. If your passion means that you’d be blissful just being associated with these types of areas, then by all means go for it. Flexibility will get you far.

But if you’re betting the farm on scaling the heights, and disregarding anything else until you reach it (or don’t), then maybe it’s the wrong mountain to climb.

Trouble is, we’re bombarded with images and stories every day of the “everyman/everywoman” who labors in a non-glam career, then makes it through The Labyrinth and is acclaimed the “next American Idol.”

Realistically, we have better chances of being struck by lightning.

I’m not dissing anyone’s dreams here. Dreams are important. They’re motivating. Sometimes they can get us through a particularly awful day. They even come true.

I’m saying that there’s bliss in being “amateur,” if you get “professional” right.

For an explanation of what I mean by that, I invite you to read screenwriter John August’s incredible post “Professional Writing and the Rise of the Amateur.” He explains it and is entertaining at the same time!

Previous posts in this series:

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

#6 - In considering your passion, you experience "Klondike Thinking."

#7 - You go into debt because the financial costs of practicing it are way too high.

#8 - You don't believe your passion's barriers to entry pertain to you.

#9 - Pursuing your passion cuts you off from family and/or friends.

#10: It's more about seeing your name connected to an outcome than your deep down enjoyment.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#10: It's more about seeing your name connected to an outcome than your deep down enjoyment.

Also known as "Name in Lights" syndrome. A few years back, I was walking through Broadway (NY) with a friend. I pointed to the marquees of the famous theaters we passed. "One day," I said, in almost mock seriousness, "my name's gonna be up there!" My friend still speaks with me to this day, after I subjected him to this obvious behavior, considering where we were. It wasn't until years later, when I actually had "my name in lights" (although not in NYC), that I realized it wasn't all that it seems in the movies. Nothing magically changed. I still had all my old fears and insecurities. I just had a few more people telling me my writing was fantastic. There was a quick learning curve after that, as I understood exactly how awards and recognition (even just a little) can't take the place of just getting out there and living life.

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

#6 - In considering your passion, you experience "Klondike Thinking."

#7 - You go into debt because the financial costs of practicing it are way too high.

#8 - You don't believe your passion's barriers to entry pertain to you.

#9 - Pursuing your passion cuts you off from family and/or friends.

Where's the customer service for screenwriters?

Although I have "officially" given up the screenwriting game, I continue drifting off to sleep at night running scenes and dialogue from Ed Maxx: Zombie Destroyer* in my head. You might think it would give me nightmares, but no. I prefer my nightmares to come from other sources. Cormac McCarthy's stunning and awesome novel "The Road" is currently furnishing them with images quite well.

Who knows - maybe I'll find the fun in going back and giving Ed Maxx another try at setting his life straight.

If I do, I'll of course maintain the opinion that Hollywood doesn't give a damn about us, the customers for its peculiar sort of merchandise. Hollywood has never asked me what kinds of movies I want to see. And the town is particularly hostile to screenwriters, especially those of us who prefer to live somewhere other than Los Angeles.

And so I find it harder and harder to care at all about what is being offered on screens here in DC. This is unfortunate, since the "hinterland screenwriter" could be one of the film industry's most ardent supporters. After all, we're the ones who:

• pay $8 to see a movie - two or three times;
• watch the DVD a second time, with the director's commentary running;
• sometimes watch it with the commentary running the first time;
• watch all the deleted scenes, once with commentary, once without;
• look up all the bit part actors' names on IMDB;
• can tell you who Natalie Kalmus was;
• sit on our festering scripts because we're too scared they may be totally worthless (as most script readers claim they are);
• would benefit from a system where we could be matched up with writing partners who could complement us;
• believe that every dozen years or so, we'll come out of a movie theatre transformed.

*Ed's a DC-based lawyer who wakes up one morning to find that the world has degenerated into two camps - zombies and a very few humans. He rapidly finds that he's destined to flip back and forth between this alternate universe, and his real life, where he's got to deliver enough billable hours to become partner, get married, survive encounters with the walking dead and find a way to make the flipping stop.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#9 - Pursuing your passion cuts you off from family and/or friends.

It's not that the people close to me have to be an active and equal partner in my passion(s). They're probably thankful I don't bore them with every minute detail. Still, there should be some link, even if it's acknowledgement, among my family and friends. However, if I hear "This drive to become the best [insert passion] in the world is making you cancel all your outings, and you're becoming a stranger to your family," that might be something for me to look into. No one's told me that yet. But I always have to watch for that possibility.

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

#6 - In considering your passion, you experience "Klondike Thinking."

#7 - You go into debt because the financial costs of practicing it are way too high.

#8 - You don't believe your passion's barriers to entry pertain to you.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#8 - You don't believe your passion's barriers to entry pertain to you.

Everything has a barrier to entry. Some barriers are more labyrinthine than others. You might be a roller-coaster enthusiast, and think the perfect vacation involves travel to a dozen theme parks experiencing the thrills of hurtling upside down at 60 MPH while spinning along a steel metal track. The barrier to entry? Financial. You can't get into a theme park if you don't have the money.

You might think there are places that have no barrier to entry, but they do.

In the movie "Rudy," the title character dreams of playing football at Notre Dame. But there are HUGE barriers to his entry. His grades suck. He's physically smaller than other players. Very few take him seriously. Even his father tries to talk him out of it. Although Rudy hurtles some barriers (like walking into the coach's office unannounced to meet him), he respects that the main barrier to getting into Notre Dame is his academic ability. So he works on that. And works. And works. And works. And works. And works. Clearly, he respects the university's high wall he has to jump over. But he doesn't just go up and say "Here I am, take me in." He does, however, ask people for their help, which is an entirely different thing altogether.

It's only natural to downplay the barriers you'll have to climb, knock down, dismantle, take the long way around, on your way to success in what you love to do. But if you think, "It'll be a breeze, I'll just walk in and everyone will love me and what I do," then you're probably up for a major disappointment.

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

#6 - In considering your passion, you experience "Klondike Thinking."

#7 - You go into debt because the financial costs of practicing it are way too high.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#7 - You go into debt because the financial costs of practicing it are way too high.

I've spent quite a bit of money pursuing my playwriting/screenwriting career. I haven't kept exact track on how much (I knew it would hamper my creativity at the time), but I can estimate the costs as follows:

$1000 on writing seminars
$600 on airfare to Los Angeles for opening and closing weekends of Dearboy's War.
$200 on rental car fees in Los Angeles.
$250 for screenwriting software.
$150 on copying scripts.

That's $2200 - and it's a rough estimate. Granted, that's also over a number of years. Let's look at how much money I've directly made on this passion:

$500 award from the Arch & Bruce Brown Foundation.

Now it's not like I was in danger of going into debt. But as I've gotten less and less satisfaction out of writing scripts, I've certainly felt it in my wallet. Especially since those writing seminars here in DC have doubled their fees!

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

#6 - In considering your passion, you experience "Klondike Thinking."

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#6 - In considering your passion, you experience "Klondike Thinking."

Klondike Thinking is all about "get rich quick." Like a prospector during the gold rush of the 1890's, you're preparing for the extreme discomfort of working by telling yourself "I can take the hardships for a short period of time, since the payoff will hopefully be enormous." The Klondike Thinker might:

stay in a boring, dull and dead end job and put off his dreams until retirement;
fear some initial discomfort in pursuing her passion, which keeps her from pursuing what she loves;
maintain a low level of involvement in his passion while everyone else is going full force;
throw away a perfectly satisfying life to chase a billion-to-one long shot.

The problem with this scenario? Putting too much emphasis on a specific, narrow outcome (make a ton of money, get famous, win an Oscar) and ignore the possibilities inherent in the actual pursuit. I wanted to win an Oscar for screenwriting - but I can't find much fun in writing screenplays. And I don't really want to move to Losa Angeles.

Once I realized this, I could see how I was using Klondike Thinking in pursuing my passion, and identify either what I needed to do to get where I wanted to go, or quit and pursue other interests.

Interests in which I like the panning for gold as much as, if not more than, the gold itself.


#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#5 - You say it's your passion, but you spend 100% of your "free," non-work time doing just everything else BUT working on what you say you love.

Music: you love it. You've got a guitar, you've written songs, you've performed in bars. People say to you "That song you wrote really spoke to me," and "You're awesome, what are you doing staying here?" Things like that. You know you're not a prodigy - you know that to get where you are requires tons of practice. But the weekend rolls around and you're taking the kids everywhere, you've spent three hours at the gym, you fall asleep on the couch afterwards, and when you wake up you try tackling that mountain of paperwork you've brought home from the office. When are you practicing? Writing new stuff? "I'll definitely do it tomorrow," you tell yourself as you watch the Sci-Fi Channel on Saturday night. The next day, you do it all again, and you get so much done. But not your music. Your guitar's locked in its case in the closet.

How do I know all this? I've been there!

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#4 - In pursuit of your passion you end up doing things that might be hazardous to your health.

Let's say your dream is to become Mr. Universe. An extreme example of a dream, perhaps, but let's go with it. You're 6'1", you've been working out with weights since high school, you've even placed in some regional bodybuilding competitions. But in order to get to that lofty plateau, you find you're going to have to do steroids.* If you find no problems with it for yourself, then fine, great, go for it. But what if you have this nagging opposition to using? What if you push past that opposition, that voice in your head yelling "wait, don't!," and start anyway? What if doing that cycle gives you all sorts of physical and behavioral changes - insane acne, heightened aggressiveness, massive depression? Suddenly, you're ignoring clear signs that your body's not cut out for what you're putting it through. Sure, there are all those other people who have "done it," and they're fine, right? But they're not you! It definitely pays to weigh the costs of your dream against any personal harm racing after it may cause.

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.

*Disclaimer: I don't purport to be an expert on steroid use or the controversies surrounding them, and this post does not aim to provide advice on them pro or con. This was the first example that came to my mind - so please don't beat me up!

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.


I probably wouldn't make a great Trappist monk. Although the life fascinates me. Simplicity. Quiet. Focus.

I remember seeing a 60 Minutes piece on Thomas Merton, probably the most famous Trappist monk of all (if one can or should label a monk "famous.") He had fascinating things to say, and I read his book The Seven Storey Mountain not long afterwards.

But I know I wouldn't make a good Trappist monk for one reason: I'm a raging extrovert. A huge "E" on the Meyers-Briggs profile. I not only "get" energy from other people, I can feel it coming in. I don't want to be the center of attention, and I don't need to be onstage. But put me in an enclosed office for hours at a time, and I shut down. My brain ceases to function - all creativity goes right out the window.

And isn't that a major portion of a Trappist monk's life? Deep introspection, silence (or should I say lack of conversation)?

Sure, we all want and crave a certain amount of calm and rest in our lives. But if I were to pursue that as my passion, well, then passion would drain out of my life.

But I'm going to read The Seven Storey Mountain again. I've still got my copy. And one of the neat things about getting older? You don't have to buy as many books, since you forget what was in many of them...

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)