Two Steps Forward, One Step Back... Into Improv

Back in September, I said I was giving up on improv, and would use the time to work on my novel instead. Since then, I have indeed made some progress. Namely, I:

• finally completed the first draft;
• re-structured my epic list of planned revisions, organizing the edits by chapter, character, and general terms;
• created a spreadsheet mapping individual character arcs, and the emotions and motivations of each character on a chapter-by-chapter basis;
• selected a new opening for the first chapter (from among six) after much deliberation;¹
• found a resource to answer many research questions concerning detectives and security firms; and
• made this list.

So, have I started writing the second draft? Um...no, not officially.²

Although the holidays and the Winter Olympics have proved distracting, there has also been another impeding factor.³ You see, in November I took a musical improv class.

I know, I know. Yes, I said I was giving up on improv, but I never said I was giving up on musical improv. (For the uninitiated, that's a different thing entirely.) I figured I'd have a blast over the six weeks (I did), and then take a break until the next musical improv opportunity arose.

Long story short: It turns out musical improv is my gateway drug.

By mid-January, I'd signed up for a normal improv class⁴ and been recruited into a Marvel-based improv show.⁵ But this isn't like before; this time around I'll maintain the proper balance. I'll do improv (but not overdo it). I'll write on a regular schedule (but not too regular). And I'll eat lots and lots of ice cream.

Can't go wrong with ice cream.⁶


Nor can you go wrong with heroes, villains, and someone pretending to be Stan Lee. If you're in CT next Friday (March 2), come see Improvised Marvel!

ink by Kevin O'Toole, color by me
(click to embiggen)

It Was the Best of Times, Etc. Etc.

Last Saturday, I did five straight hours of improv. Although, by "straight," I mean "there were short breaks in between." (That's right, I did five there were short breaks in between hours of improv. I'm a very good writer.) It was the most improv I'd done in one stint, but afterward I didn't feel mentally or physically drained. What I felt was confused.

I had fun overall, and some of the sets went really well. But so many of my scenes were slow, dull, and awkward. I did scenes with other improvisers I normally have a strong rapport with, and they dragged. Painfully so.

Most of my ideas went nowhere, and repeatedly improvisers had to jump in from the back line to save things. There were also multiple scenes where I stood there adding absolutely nothing as the action went on around me. For much of the afternoon, I was the most utterly out-of-place and useless I had ever been on an improv stage.

...until the very next night.

On Sunday night my troupe had a performance. And I added not one iota of value. Okay, that's an exaggeration; I added exactly one iota: my very last line got some laughs. But the rest of the time I was on a different wavelength from the other members of my team, and I contributed nothing. Everything I said fell flat. I spent much of our final set hugging the back line, uncompelled to join the fray. I may be a seasoned improviser, but my work that night was bland and unpalatable.

Luckily, the rest of my troupe was too busy putting on a stellar show, so they didn't notice my absence. Or at least, they were kind enough not to say anything about it.

~~~~~

But improv wasn't the only thing going on last weekend. On Saturday, we had six showings at our old house, some no more than 15 minutes apart. Six. Even though it's been on the market since June.

Oh yeah, and we got an offer. (Huzzah!)

We're not in full-on celebration mode yet, of course (Huzzah?!), since we know how the last two went. But we feel pretty good about this one. For one thing, the buyer doesn't have an FHA loan. Perhaps third time will indeed be the charm.

Fingers crossed. And just to be safe, I'm crossing the streams, too.

~~~~~

But improv and realty weren't the only things going on last weekend. I was also, apparently, in the beginning stages of the flu. (Huzzah!) (Which, in retrospect, helps to explain my inept improv performances.)

I've never had a flu shot as an adult, in part because I'd never before gotten the flu, at least as far as I can remember. Well, that streak's toast.

But let me tell you, when it's 80 degrees out in early March in New England, and the sun is beating down on you, and you're wrapping your winter coat more tightly around you and shivering non-stop...

Yeah. Good times.

I'm a Damn Fool

I haven't blogged in a while. You may think it's because I've been lazy, but actually, I've just been severely overworked biding my time.

Forty days have passed since my last post. It's like I gave up blogging for Lent, except it being the wrong time of year, and the fact that I'm a lousy, stinkin' Jew.¹

So, what have I been doing all this time? I'm glad I asked.

As previously mentioned, I've spent plenty of time working biding. And of course, now that The Professor is walking (and dancing (and toddle-running (and attempting to leap off of furniture))),² it's difficult to pull myself away. But when I have gotten away, what I've been doing is improv.

I've taken a couple of classes so far, and after the last one, a few of us decided to meet up weekly to keep at it. Although I have my blog and novel, I love having this creative outlet where I get to work with others. I always leave our improv sessions energized. Anyway, two weeks ago, we settled on a name for our fledgling group: The Damn Fools.

Sure, a couple days later two of our four members officially joined an established improv troupe as well. They hope to stick with both groups, though some might say they're damn fools for trying.

But hey, that's who we are. And I wouldn't have it any other way.


¹ I am a lousy Jew: I eat pork, don't believe in God, get the holidays confused, and — unless you count bar mitzvahs — haven't been inside a synagogue since I was 8. (Whereas, I stink because I haven't showered in two days.)
² I'll write a Professor-centric post once I get the chance to comb through the most recent pictures. (Not literally; there won't be a comb. I'll sift through them instead. (Not literally; there won't be a sieve. I'll scour through them. (Not literally.)))