Papa Don't Preach

I've been losing sleep. But I made up my mind. I'm keeping my baby. I'm gonna keep my baby. Mmmm.

Don't fret, this isn't about baby June. She's well and safe and the least intrusive little addition to our family yet.
The baby I speak of is Original Glory. I got the next call yesterday. Long ago when I committed to this path, I naively thought that there would be The Call or this magic moment that success would come. What I've discovered over the years is a series of calls and meetings that all keep me moving forward, yet the supposed arrival I envisioned remains elusive. In that regard it is easy to let anticipation and doubt cancel out the good feelings I could enjoy after calls like yesterday's.
The literary agent at Gersh with whom I'm working called and left me a brief message. I've been at times anxious to call her my agent, alack she is not officially my agent at this time. I've been told that at the point that an offer is made, Gersh, and I, will determine whether or not they are to represent me. Anyway her message was, I have one note for you on Original Glory. Oh, here's a cool thing. I called back and said, This is Neal Corl returning a call from Sandra. Her assistant said, Hold just a moment please, Neal. And put me right through! If you've ever had to call an agent or studio exec and had to get past their gatekeeper/assistant, the fluency of yesterday's call was pure joy.
Anyway, she gave me the one note, praised the rewrite I delevered a few weeks ago and told me to expect some meetings in the New Year. Oh goody gum drops! Then the hammer dropped. Are you attached to direct? I hope so. (The answer is yes. The answer is not Maybe or I Hope So. The answer is YES. I'm keeping my baby.) Have you directed before? Yes, not a feature, but shorts andmusic videos. Can you send us your reel? Yes. It won't be right away, I want to make sure it's updated. Okay great. You have a happy holiday. We'll see in the New Year.
That's terrific; right?
It didn't turn out to feel so good for me. I was filled with doubts about my reel, remorse at not having done more and better work and the fear-driven idea that I would rather abdicate my choice to direct now than be denied by someone else later. I start thinking of how to get over. To be sure, directing a studio-financed feature film is not to be taken lightly. I can not speak with absolute certainty that I'm capable of accomplishing it.
But what is it that I preach? Oh, that the results are not up to me. That my job is to prepare to the best of my ability and to accept the decisions of those casting or financing the project. Wanting to be certain of the outcome is a form of tension. Tension is the enemy of the artist - a schoolyard bully just waiting to be tangled with. Do not engage the tension bully!

Dear Universe, please allow me to practice what I preach.

Ciao amici,
Signore Direttore