Progress has picked up on my book of late, which excites me. This weekend I was able to plunk out two nearly complete, lengthy chapters, a feat of considerable magnitude given that I'd spent the last few weeks on one dense chapter, and this summer my progress had been about a chapter every week or two.

It's hard to describe the troubles of writing this book. I suppose talking with someone else who's tried to put together a theoretical and instructive text with similar ambition would make me feel less "remote." For now, though, I feel "remote" in the sense that my problems have been in reasoning, namely the in sequence (order) of events in a chain, and not the kinds of things I can talk to any old soul about (else bore them with pedantry). I'm sounding vague, but I'm actually speaking rather specifically--the issues I've been trying to overcome amount to a "proper" ordering of cars in a train, and my methodology for determining such order requires a lot of patience to explain. (However, it's not rocket science, and it's pretty simple to understand if patient, I'm betting.)

The resolution of my problems has come to me piecemeal with little rediscoveries here and there in numerous re-readings of game theory texts, plus lessons gleaned from general semantics. Ultimately, the fix-it for my problems was a realization that things are like the long-form improvisation about which I write, and I can teach long-form to some degree as I would teach this or that discipline or this or that form which it resembles.

The sidebar discovery of this revelation was that those instances of the word "should" are not completely without merit, as in the case when one form is being taught in light of another: the first form "should" be taught a particular way iff the other form is what is strived for. I tend not to take issue with that shoulding, and nor did an ex-girlfriend of mine who understands intimately what I mean by shoulding. It is with great mental and philosophical relief that I can make some "light prescriptions" (which amount really just to agreed-upon principles of high efficacy) in writing about long-form improv and not have to spiral into a mire of self-contradiction in making assertions about how an improviser "best" or "should" improvise. You'll have to read the book to see how I pull off this feat, which I think you would find intellectually rewarding at most, and at least thoroughly entertaining.

I am in love with the present manifestation of my book--the "written-out" version--and I am eager to share some of the chapters with others to get their reactions. (Now is not anywhere near the time.) The current version has an emotional, opinionated yet well reasoned and confident voice to it, one that admits no authority and at the same time chimes out with a unique, and I think convincing, perspective.


 

 
September 18, 2005 (Sunday)

I might be premature in saying so, but it seems by plucking away, I was able to overcome an intellectual block in my book that has bothered me for at least a week, and quite possibly several months.

I argue against the seeing of instruction as "rules" and instead argue for seeing instruction as "principles." Basically, where this leaves me is the difficult situation of "How do I legislate a way of improvising without having rules to govern behavior?"

I attacked the issue by looking at the values of the improviser, suggesting they ultimately derive from the audience. I was then able eventually to say that I'm an audience member, and an educated one at that, and my values may serve as helpful principles to guide improvisation.

This route seems to be successful because I avoid saying that what I'm talking about are "thee rules" of improv, and instead I say "these are the things I value seeing as an audience member." I thus impel the reader to perform in that manner (generally speaking) if the aim is to please me. I also go on to say I'm not the only one who holds those values (in general), so I make a rough but convincing case for following my instruction.

Probably not something that makes incredible sense in a news posting, but it's a little breakthrough that may usher in some more progress. Once I configured the logic, the writing started to flow. That tends to feel very, very good. I sometimes get bogged down in tweaking prior passages and adding fine details that at least seem important, if they aren't altogether critical for my argument.

I continue to impress myself with the current draft of the book. It seems that unless I continue to have rather consistent breakthroughs, the progress on the book will continue to be slow, with chapters suddenly and sporadically coming out of me. Tonight I returned to some important improv books out now for inspiration, as I feel sometimes distant from the troubles of the fledgling improviser. I've dedicated my time over the last three years to improvisers who have gotten much, much better and ask questions far removed from those asked by new students of improv. Looking over these books reminds me of some of the troubles and questions I originally had and have answered already, sometimes in starkly different ways. It is these new, (as I see it:) improved ways of thinking that I think make my book unique and subject of much future discussion (and hopefully some positive controversy).

 

 
September 21, 2005 (Wednesday)

Today I had a fitting for an upcoming shoot date of October 3rd for the Beatles film, Across the Universe. I am to play a rioter.

 

 
September 26, 2005 (Monday)

Talk about brushes with improv fame: This morning, I was in the Ad Week Parade of Icons as Yahoo!'s SpamGuard, and on the double-decker bus with me was Colin Mochrie from the improvised television show Whose Line Is It Anyway? He apparently is Snackwell's Snack Fairy. That was outta nowhere.