Tyler Gibb - Writer, Director, Editor, Filmmaker

My mom sends me links to news articles. So does yours - c’mon. She used to clip out newspaper articles and leave them on the kitchen table for me. But she’s tech savvy now. Anyway, the latest tidbit of entertainment information that Mom deemed worthy of my attention was about a successful writer who’s living the Canadian writer’s dream; working in the US.

I kindly replied to her email that it’s always nice to read about the success of others.

Mom immediately took the tone of my email to be sarcastic. That my reply was me lashing out with cantankerous envy. And I can see how that’s a reaction that may arise. But it wasn’t, on my part. I thought it was genuinely great to hear about the success of others who share your pursuit.

There’s so much rejection; so much unrelenting defeat in this industry that hearing that someone else has actually hit the target for which they were aiming is - if nothing else - a comforting reminder. A reminder that what you’re after is not impossible. It’s also a nice reminder to take a look at your own accomplishments and remember that for every one of you there are a dozen more yous out there who are reading your story and thinking the same thing. That if a cantankerous jerk so sarcastic that even his mother assumes the worst can do this, so can they.

Just doing some home improvements around the old homestead here. Here being tylergibb.com. Not the actual homestead. It’s January and -15 out, gimme a break.

Apparently, while I was off(line) building a healthy career in traditional media, Flash became the scourge of the internet. Who knew? Not me. I just recently found out. Now it’s all HTML5 this and you’re-not-smart-enough-to-code-things-yourself-anymore that.

Anyway. I’m happy to say that tylergibb.com is now all spiffed up with the latest the web has to offer in streamlined efficiency… Until otherwise pointed out to me.

And it feels pretty good. It’s in keeping with my goal this year. To streamline. To operate with more precision than ever before.

Flash content has started to get a bad rap online because it causes your computer to lag. It’s too heavy. It bogs down your CPU so it can’t operate efficiently. Or so I’m told. Personally, I tend to work very efficiently myself. Or so I’m told. Perhaps as a result I find myself with a lot of projects that are starting to pile up. Not pile up in a bad way. Just pile up in an I’ve moved on to another opportunity without fully exploring this project’s possibilities way. As a result, I’m feeling a bit like Flash is running my work life. Things are starting to lag. Operate less efficiently. So this year will be about cleaning house. Tapping every project to its limit and if it fails to advance to a satisfactory level, to permanently retire it.

Streamlining.

By the end of the year, I’ll either have a dumpster full of stories or a few new irons on the fire that I can call my own.

And yes, Mankind #3 gets worked on in every spare moment I have. Gonna go work on it now, as a matter of fact. Because why should I get a Sunday night off? Huh? Why? God… You’re insatiable.

Not so long ago, I got a call from a producer type guy in Los Angeles who’d gotten a hold of a piece of my writing. Hey, how are ya, lots of kudos, that kind of thing. Very flattering. A great call to get, all in all. But then– “Oh, you’re where?”

“Canada.”

“Oh…”

There was a sound on the line that I could only imagine was all the air being sucked out of his office.

Seriously?

We live in an age where Twitter feeds are being adapted into television shows and blogs are inspiring multi-million dollar films. Google can put me on a street in front of any building in the world and a Skype connection can put me inside. Not to mention anywhere is only an old school plane ride away. And if you need to be there right now, there’s always teleportation– No? Not yet? Alright well, the rest still begs the question: How on Earth is location even an issue anymore?

I don’t doubt that every once in a while a warm, fleshy hand shake or two is warranted. Hell, I’m all about the human connection. But there’s something suspicious about a person who’s position is immediately dismissive of anyone not a short drive away. Like they can’t actually screw you if you’re not there in person.

There’s a great speech in the movie Moneyball. It’s delivered by Arliss Howard as John Henry, owner of the Boston Red Sox. It may as well be addressed to the old guard of the entertainment industry. The gist of it is that if you’re too afraid of the new ways, then you’re boned. I keep seeing evidence of these dinosaur ways all the time. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Never heard back from that particular producer type fella. Maybe he’s following up by carrier pigeon. Did however take a phone meeting with another producer who couldn’t care less where the creative energy is coming from. Hm. Wonder who’s still going to be making movies five years from now…

Okay, so my last - pre-holiday - post about embracing the mentally recharging energy of flaking out and just taking in sensory stimuli lasted about 24 hours.

Truth is, as thoroughly enjoyable as my holiday season was - how was yours by the way? - I kind of just got wrapped up in a new idea and spent every spare moment writing.

(Yes, I also hacked away at the next Mankind book as well so that’s still on the way.)

As a creator - for lack of a better word - you kind of rue the ruts when they come. They’re low points. That may be what some call writer’s block. I can’t say for sure. I don’t think I’ve ever had any blocks of the literary kind. I have had ruts however. I think of them as biologically strategic intervals of rest that the body accesses for dealing with things like eating or tending to personal hygiene.

They generally suck on a mental level. So I’m not sure why I’m kind of standing in the city bus of my mind, looking down the street and quietly hoping to see a rut in my future. Just so I can have a breather.

It’s a little disturbing. Not quite as disturbing as self-analyzing the fact that in my own fantasy the best vehicle for transporting my subconscious that my mind could dream up was a city bus…

What was I saying?

Right. It’s only January 2nd and I’m already mentally exhausted. Yet I can’t seem to stop. This should be a fun one!

Happy New Year to all of y’all. Make something awesome this year.

I’ve got nothing.

I maintain this here web log to - if nothing else - give myself something to write every week or so. Lately though, I’ve been writing so much hors-blog that I don’t have a lot of steam left for a self-indulgent, hey listen to me because I have a net connection, opinion piece.

How will the world go on spinning?

Today I am a vacuum. I have put out and put out and put out to a point where a void for creative energy has been created inside me. I can feel it sucking. Like being thirsty from within your brain. The output has reversed itself. I feel I need to absorb. To suck up energy. Stimuli. To consume.

Just in time for the holiday season.

And it’s good. A good time to let the process of creating reverse itself.

So I’m going to let that happen, fair reader. I’m going to indulge. Recharge. Attack my DVD collection or stare at the twinkling lights on my xmas tree.

Just for a little while.