Answering the Question, “How Do I Become A Better Critic?” (Patreon)

It’s weird to think I’ve been doing this for a decade. 

What started as a goofy lark has now become something of a permanent fixture in my life (which probably makes it all the more absurd). But hey, come up with one silly idea and sometimes you can just follow where it goes. And in this journey I’ve changed so much over the course of these years. Hell, I look back at the thoughts in some of those early essays in cringe (particularly the pearl-clutching Twilight shit, to which Lindsay Ellis had a perfect response). But the thing that strikes me most as I look at that early work are questions like, “who was I trying to be here?” or “what false assumption was leading me there?” or even “what was I really trying to say?” 

But that’s okay. If I looked back with pride and adoration at my old work it would mean I haven’t grown and changed, which is the biggest part of the process. And because I knew I was still in the middle of that process, I was always at a loss for answers when people frequently asked me the simplest of questions: “how do I become a better critic?” 

I never had a good answer. But how could I answer if I was still figuring it out myself? The truth is I’m still in that process. But I’ve learned that I will be my whole life. That’s just how it goes. But now that’s it's been a damn decade, I think I’m maybe in a place where I can at least look back and try to give a few starter thoughts to those who are either 1) looking to understand films better or 2) trying to write and find their voice. Please know that the following observations aren’t meant to be prescriptive, more reflective of what I’ve personally learned to be true. And they also comes with a caveat. Because before we get to all that…

You have to actually understand what you’re getting into.

1. The State of the Industry

Underneath the whole discussion of becoming a better movie watcher / critic is a much more difficult question to answer, which is: “How do I make a living at being a critic?”

I’m sorry to inform you I’m actually quite bad at that part. My criticism career has always been a supplemental endeavor while I did other things full-time, so I’m not really the one to answer this question at all. You’d do much better turning to the litany of amazing full-time critics and journalists out there who actually know the ins and outs of the job. But as to how they got in those positions? I wager they’ll give you similar answers about timing and luck, along with advice on all the practical elements you can actually affect. Like showing your tenacity and having a kind nature. But even then, sometimes giving advice is like trying to describe how you won the lottery. And if that weren’t enough, right now there happens to be tremendous upheaval within the industry itself, which is important to understand if you want to try and enter it.

Forgive the brief history explanation, but when I started the popular spaces for online criticism were mostly supported by small owners or backers who, for the most part, could operate at cost and maybe even make just a little bit of money (and sometimes the opposite). This more or less worked because the goal was not to get rich, the goal was to enable a few people to make a living doing criticism. There were a few full time positions, but often people found communities on message boards or were starting their own sites or blogs (which is how I started). In retrospect, it felt like an emergent and important community, but at the start it felt just as scary and impenetrable as I’m sure it seems now. 

Then things started to shift as bigger sites emerged and worked at a higher volume of output (like the Buzzfeeds and Vultures of the world). They realized they could start making slightly larger amounts of money and pay people better living wages, but it largely came at the price of having to make lots of content that the writer didn’t necessarily care about (with great stuff mixed in, of course! I don’t want to color a whole approach. I also have a whole side-tangent about social media and scoops losing relevance and clickbait, but that’s not important). The real problem started when BIG business took note of this increasing success and things started to consolidate. We essentially watched a Gawker-fication of the industry right before our eyes. 

And right when things seemed to operate at a swollen, but still somewhat manageable place, big ass private equity firms like Great Hill Partners entered the picture last year (these are basically just companies run by insanely greedy hedge fund managers). Now, normally, the kinds of big short-term profits they’re after would make online journalism and criticism sooooo not worth their time. But they also knew old media had no future so they were willing to gamble. The strategy was simple: buy EVERY SITE that was popular on the internet, start making some cuts across the board, and when stacking them all together maybe, just maybe, you could make the kind of big money that would be worth the time and effort. 

So they tried that. Green Hill formed a company called G/O media, then quickly learned the endeavor wasn’t really worth their time. They just weren’t making enough money. They wanted to scale up something that was basically unscalable. So at the end of 2019, they cut their losses and started gutting the entire industry because they literally didn’t give one shit about journalism and criticism to begin with (Yes, all of this was all even documented in a predictive plot-line on Succession). The GMG union is trying to fight back, but this isn’t about one company. This kind of fight is actually happening everywhere in the industry right now. And every single site is reeling from the impact of Wall Street carelessness and greed.

Couple this with California’s new AB5 law which severely limits the amount of articles you can write for a single outlet (it might be the single most shortsighted, wrong-headed, and all together shitty law I’ve ever seen in my life, but hey that’s how we feel when things directly affect us). Top this all off with the fact that that Twitter and Facebook are now the main means of distributing content, then you’ve unwittingly create a populace that doesn’t “go to websites” anymore at all. You essentially need something viral to come across their eyeballs in popular feeds. 

This is all to say it is particularly brutal out there right now. And it is the exact reason I’ve moved to Patreon. In some ways, it’s been a blessing to be able to work on what I want, while still getting to do a few pieces elsewhere. But I’m able to use the service effectively because I’ve been writing for 10 years and have an established relationship with some readers. But to be clear, it’s not the salvation some might think. Even if I grow this thing to its DREAMED maximum potential, it would still be less money than a first year teacher in Alabama (my point of this is saying teachers are underpaid). Which is lovely for a supplemental income, but (depending on where you live) not exactly a sustainable full-time pursuit.

All this is not meant to scare you. It’s just meant to set your expectations correctly. Because wanting to be a rightfully paid, full-time critic is like saying “I want to be a professional baseball player.” Especially at the current moment. But even with that said, I doubt the reason you’re interested in criticism is because you want to get rich. You’re interested for the same reason that I am. You simply like talking about this stuff. And you want to get better at it. Because you have a drive. Because you are willing to engage it. And because it is what you are passionate about its import. With that understanding… 

We can finally get talk to about how to get better at it.

2. Study Hall

When someone genuinely inquires about how to get better at understanding movies or writing criticism they’ll often be met with a couple of stock answers. The first is “see a ton of movies!” and the second is “just keep writing!” People use these stock answers because, well, they are true. As a developing writer, you will work out so many of your own problems in the process itself. Because there is so much learned in the repetitive trial and error of anything you really work hard at (the key is, of course, to do the hard work). That being said, I think there’s a really important mindset to have in starting your journey. 

And that is to realize how little you actually know. 

Young people always seem like people in a rush to be an authority, largely because they want to be taken seriously (this is particularly true of young men). This can couple in a really troubling habit because many people don’t understand how their given opinion can be “wrong.” Because if you go to see a film and it rubs you the wrong way, there is nothing that can take away the feeling of that experience. It happened, which means it feels incontrovertible to you. But rather than engage the problems with how we consume, most people blame the product. And if you hold onto those early feelings they’ll often send you down a narrow, limiting path. So when young and learning, its important to start taking apart those instincts. You essentially need to nuke everything you think you know. You need to start being really unsure of yourself and, much more importantly, open yourself to a larger possibility.

To give a great example in the Thai language, when eating food they never say “I don’t like this.” They say “I don’t know how to eat this.” I think this small difference of verbiage feels revolutionary. And when translating this same idea to criticism, you want to ask the same questions of learning how to consume films. You want to ask “Why do people like this? HOW are they liking it? What is the reason I don’t? Is that valid or an issue with my own consumption?” This thought process isn’t just for starting out, I still do this today. For instance, there’s a lot of anime that I missed early on in my life so I’ve spent the last few years going back and coming to understand the cinematic language, import, and power of the form (and it’s been a real joy).

When starting, you essentially want to do the same with the history and breadth of cinema. From silents, to foreign language, to abstract art, there is nothing to actually fight against. Only something to be gained. To be clear, I’m not saying things need to be blindly accepted, particularly as “the canon of cinema” tends to be racist, sexist, and dated. And it’s not just an incredibly worthwhile conversation to bring these issues up, it may be the most important conversation. Which is a way of saying it needs to be reckoned with. And it’s in that same historical exploration that we remember or discover voices like Cheryl Dunye and Vera Chytilová, who need to be held up to the same level of importance within the canon. You have to know history to reshape history.

But doing this takes THE WORK. 

From the ages of about 15- 23 I was ravenous. I watched as much as I humanly could. I remember when that first AFI list came out, I watched every single film on it. Then I would find a director I liked from Kubrick to Bergman to Kurosawa and watch all their films. In film school, I was renting three or four films at a time. I devoured criticism. I read everything from Pauline Kael to Ebert to Joe Bob Briggs (w/r/t Kael, my mother’s stack of New Yorkers in the attic was the best resource / fire hazard you could ask for). This mass consumption period is critical to anyone’s development because it’s when you really throw yourself into the depths of the medium. 

It is also okay if that period eventually wanes. When I started working full time after college I tried to keep it up, but life happens. And at a certain point you’re going to know if you’re more of a rabid mega-consumer who continues on that path or someone who takes their time with each thing they consume (it’s safe to say I have become the latter). But at the edge of all understanding is continued growth. But of course, it’s not JUST about cinema. 

There is an old adage in writing advice, “Don’t just study cinema, study the world!” And look, it’s neat to learn a lot about the world. But I’m going to argue that you’ll want to zero in on the two fields most important to storytelling: psychology and semiotics. And by psychology I’m talking less about Freudian bullshit and more about the modern language of therapy. Because nothing helps better in understanding character flaws, arcs, choices, and internality than understanding what makes good growth and development in human beings. Then comes semiotics, which is the study of meaning making. To all those who think English papers are a bunch of bullshit, you’re just clowning yourselves. I mean, it’s NOT SCIENCE, we all get it. But “constructed meaning” is literally how everything about society functions. It’s even the origin of language itself. Which means it's just as critical to understanding cinematic language and deeper narrative symbolism.

And while all this study is going on, you are going to have to write. Don’t worry if it’s not good yet, it is so important to sit down and force yourself to explain what’s going on in your brain. This sort of reflection is critical because it makes you really parse through what you are reacting to and why… Which brings us to the next point.

3. The Prime Directive and What It’s Not

What the hell is criticism, anyway? 

Rather than wax philosophical, allow me to get right to point by paraphrasing Jonathan Gold, who said criticism is answering the question of “why.” It’s sitting down with a bowl of ramen and going, “Why this broth? Why this ingredient? Why this bowl?” Because it is in the "why" that you find the thoughtfulness of the choices being made behind the dish. You can come to understand that the shoyu broth is reinforced by dashi, which gives a nice umami base underneath the saltiness of the soy sauce and the delicate sweetness of sake. And why the ramen noodles over another kind? Because the alkaline gives a nice bitterness and chewy texture that withstands the heat of the soup that would make other noodles fall apart. And why that bowl? Well, the angular shape allows you to rest more ingredients at the top and prevents the noodles and everything else from sinking to the bottom, making the entire eating experience more pleasant. There is a "why" behind ALL these choices.

Now, I could have just said “great ramen! A-!” But that doesn’t actually get to the heart of understanding the thing now does it? Evaluation of quality is absolutely nothing compared to fostering understanding. And the same thing is true of film. It’s sitting down and asking, “Why this shot? Why is the character making this choice? Why this music cue?” Being able to answer those questions brings you right into understanding the story and the filmmaker’s intent. To be clear, yes, there are accidental and intuitive choices being made in filmmaking (it’s a pretty chaotic process), but generally-speaking? The more thought and understanding that is put into those choices, the more cohesive and powerful the result. And as a critic, your prime directive is trying to answer the "why" behind all the choices that end on screen. That’s the job. And with that understanding…

I can also tell you about what criticism is not. 

I) It’s NOT about bad and good - Believe it or not, the least interesting thing to a reader is whether or not you think a film is bad or good. Same goes for your personal ranking or definitive list or whatever the heck. But there’s a couple reasons this is not immediately apparent to people. The first is that some people genuinely do look to stellar reviews as a guide of how to spend their dollar (but the days of a local newspaper rave getting you to the theater are obviously coming to a close). The second reason is that the evaluation of a film’s relative goodness is the perfect fuel for argumentation. Yes, liking a thing someone hates or hating a thing someone likes will get you reactions. But when you get into the semantics of “worth” or what defines “a masterpiece” like it’s a bunch of boxes to check off, you aren’t actually engaging in anything substantial. You’re mostly just going into the fray with a bunch of men who are getting MAD ONLINE. In fact, your final opinion of the thing doesn’t even matter because… 

II) It’s NOT about agreement either - You have no idea how happy it makes me when I hear the phrase, “I don’t agree with this, but I found it interesting.” Because that’s when you know you’re actually communicating something. It’s often easy to say all the right words that makes someone happy when they agree with you. But it’s often hard to say the right words in getting someone who disagrees to sit there, read through, and really understand where you are coming from. Which is why so much of my goal is bringing people into my reasoning. Especially because it is precisely how you can help people learn to think for themselves in turn.

III) It’s NOT about describing the film’s essence - This one is a bit tricky, because there are a lot of writers out there with an incredible way with words. Pauline Kael was so evocative and poetic, she could bring you right into the feeling of a film or the effect of an actor like no other. And yes, you need to have a command of language to communicate your ideas (I know I’m not great at prose by any stretch, but I have a decent ear for how people read in their heads and when to emphasize certain sentences). But my point is that over-aiming at this kind of stylistic flourish, especially when you’re young and learning, can really get you in trouble. It becomes so easy to get lost in adjectives and adverbs until you’re just dancing with pretty words that are unconnected to a larger point. Because what you’re really doing is hiding the fact that you really don’t have any insight or clear thing to say. I learned that I had to dig right into the meat and potatoes mechanics because it’s what the reader can really grab onto as well. And Kael? Well, she was the best because she had grounded, clear ideas behind everything beautiful thing she said. The total package, as it were.

IV) Articles do NOT have to be short - I can’t tell you how much I still run into this false belief throughout the industry. In fact, the longer the article, the better it tends to do in terms of numbers. We don’t know that because there is so much assumption and counter-intuition in online industries. It’s the same thinking that plagued people trying to make short online content for years. Everyone thinks readers and viewers are in a rush. Nope, instead they're desperately looking for an excuse to slow down and engage with something that really keeps their attention. Granted, it’s hard to construct a long argument (I’ll get to that later), but I promise you this simple fact is true. 

V) You are NOT a pop psychologist (but it’s complicated) - This one’s a little hard to parse, but it’s an important thing to remember any time you’re engaging the work of established storytellers. For instance, when I’m hard on the work of someone like Hooper or J.J. Abrams or Iñárritu, I have to remind myself that I’m not evaluating the psychology of the artist, but the psychology of the work itself. But the work itself is worth talking about. Because all art has a viewpoint, a philosophy, a range of interests, and beliefs about how it thinks the world works. It’s very important for critics to discuss these issues, but that often has to be limited the creator's work and their responsibility for it, not the individual’s character. Not just because there are people who love these artists, but because they could be radically different human beings from the work they create (for both better or worse). So whether you are looking out for the artist, the reader, or the audience member, it’s important to remember that empathy goes in a lot of directions, often all at once.

VI) It’s NOT about putting out one kind of content - This brings the discussion back to the industry. If you’re a person who doesn’t fall into a certain lane (say, the Star Wars beat), you are going to be faced with another simple question, “what subjects do i write about?” Well, If you want to engage people on the popular level, you are going to have to talk about popular things. And you are going to have to talk about them both fairly and openly. Because yes, people like Marvel and Star Wars and Wonder Woman and now (checks notes) Sonic The Hedgehog. But that’s very much okay. They are cultural touchstones the public can rally around. And practically speaking, they move the needle when you write about them. These are inescapable facts. 

If this bothers you, if you sneer at it, hell, even if you engage the topically cynically, people will not take to it kindly. Nor will they take kindly to you. The simple key is to understand these dynamics and not to fall victim to them. You have to strike a balance in all things. You have to be open to popular topics, just as you can’t wear out on them either. You have to pick and choose your spots. You have to write about smaller filmmakers you are passionate about. And if you do it right, you can take someone who liked your Star Wars take and show them why they might like Mike Leigh. In essence, you have to find purpose in all things. But most of all, you have to make yourself happy. Because chasing the chaos of the industry will lead you nowhere/ 

VII) It is NOT an objective medium, but a personal one - The simple truth is that your interests and your identity often fuel what you like. This tends to surprise a lot of white men who, for so long, have had monopoly on being “the main character” of life’s popular narratives. But because of this, it’s important to understand that you aren’t an objective critic at all. You are someone who is probably going to like the things that most speak to your experience and understanding of life. But it is in this understanding that you can hopefully 1) see this dynamic and 2) help break yourself out of it. Because watching things that are “not for you” actually makes you a better critic, especially as our understanding of intersectionalism shifts in society around us. 

To put it simply, you don’t want to be the guy freaking out about Birds of Prey (if you are, god help you). What these people often fail to realize is there are so many people outside of the white male identity who have spent so much time watching popular movies and learning to see from another perspective, to the point that it’s practically written into the DNA of media watching for them. Now it’s time for people to learn how to do the same (even though that time should have been always). The goal is to get outside of your whiteness, or your straightness, or your gendernormativity, or whatever it may be and not just see the films that “not for you,” but connect to them, too. And to be clear, you don’t want to connect from a place of ownership and appropriation, but a sense of empathy and support. 

And at the same time, it’s totally okay to like things made for you, too! Hell, I like James Bond movies. But I’m hyper aware of their exclusivity and problematic natures and write about those elements at length. Which just serves to remind you that the impact of films, even simple ones, is often complex and multifaceted. Your job as a critic is to understand all of that context when you write about them (even if you’re not explicitly writing about those subjects). Which is yet another reason never to put them into the good / bad binary. Ultimately, the only real “objectivity” comes in understanding the mechanics of what we are personally affected by and way, and listening in the process.

VIII) Using the following these buzzwords is probably NOT a good idea - So in all my time in criticism, there are a few buzzwords that have been commonly used that tend to signify problematic approaches. They are the following:

- “Overrated” - This is a big one because it’s usually indicative of someone who plays hard into the notions of “proper evaluation.” Which usually means they like taking films down a peg and thinking their opinion is the be all end all of everything. But there’s such a radical difference between looking at something and saying “hey here’s WHY the film has some problems people aren’t talking about” versus saying “hey that film isn’t as good as people think!” On the flip-side, saying something’s underrated tends to be way less offensive because it usually is used to shine a spotlight on something that needs more love. But I tend to avoid both phrases.

- “Twee” - Ah yes, the word that launched a thousand knee-jerk criticisms of Wes Anderson. The word tends to be a hallmark of those who find the cutesy and light-hearted escapades of a movie infuriating because they generally need a movie to be SeRiOuS all the time so they too can be taken sErIoUsLy. And if someone does deliver a joke, it has to be delivered flatly as to not disrupt that needed serious tone! Okay, I’m being a little flippant here, but it tends to be a real issue where the twee-word-user is genuinely ignoring the more serious and poignant parts of the given work. But a film doesn’t have to have a singular tone. In fact, often the best films are wonderful at guiding you through the range of emotions on screen (executing this properly is a different discussion).

- “Unoriginal” - Using this word is a red flag because it’s pretty much impossible for a film to be original, it just has to feel original. Because every single story beat, construction, idea, twist, reversal under the sun has been done before. The goal is simply to combine them in a way that somehow feels new, while using the same tried and trusted methods of storytelling that make your characters feel real, compelling, and empathetic. Because what you really want is for your story to feel organic. And what’s often funny about people who use the word in question is that when they also tout something as being “original,” they won’t be aware that a Japanese film used that same exact conceit fifty years ago. Point is don’t get lost in the minutiae of originality, get absorbed in the film’s dramatic viability.

- “Unrealistic” - There are words often go along with this one, like it “makes no sense” or “someone wouldn’t do that” or some other implication of left-brain logic. I’ve talked about this ad nauseam, but films aren’t a list of correct logical choices. They’re dramatic scenarios where flawed people often make the wrong choices because of established character traits (and either learn from them or don’t). So whenever someone talks about “realism” I generally know they’re not talking about important things like character motivation or drama and instead embarking on some nonsense hypothetical where they are trying to outsmart the movie itself. It’s like they genuinely see the movie as some puzzle they could jump into and “beat” better than the characters on screen, which is a whole problematic instinct I won’t get into here.

IX) You are NOT the arbiter of hype - Thankfully, I feel like this issue has calmed down a lot in recent years, but it has to do with how people view your role as a critic in their consumption. Because as a critic, you often get to see movies ahead of time (even though I never did critics screenings). Which means you deal with the issue of expectations. They look at you like it’s your job to temper their expectations and appropriately evaluate the movie in question. Just as it is your job to calm everyone down. But I am telling you: never ever ever ever fall into this trap. What they want is both impossible and shitty. Not only because it turns criticism into some meta game of cultural dialogue, but because it brings you further away from the core point of criticism: which is to engage the merits and whys behind the construction of the film itself. This is also why I tend to write pieces that come out AFTER opening weekend because they make for better discussion of the film in general. But even then…

X) You are NOT the end of the discussion - Whenever I write an essay I always consider it just to be starting point. It doesn’t matter if it’s 12,000 words. It doesn’t even matter that I want to come out and make as comprehensive a point as possible. Even then, it just becomes a starting point for a new dialogue. Now, a lot of people say “don’t read the comments,” and that’s true to an extent. People will be mean and knee-jerk and you learn pretty quickly who is making bad faith arguments. But what you also get is a lot of thoughtfulness that can help you understand how you are really communicating. 

So much of my time, especially early on, was spent hearing people digest what I was writing and what they were reflecting back to me. Sometimes they had bad points, but sometimes they had great points. Sometimes it got me to change my mind about parts. Sometimes it reinforced my thinking, but still allowed me to make a better point in a more clear way. Again, there is no need to tolerate abuse. But there is immense value in understanding the good-faith responses to your work. And with that in mind, it’s time to talk about the actual process of writing itself.

4. The Art of Process

I) Constructing An Argument

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had a new editor come into my work and say “wait, we don’t need all this!” then when they start to try and take giant chunks out of the argument they get stuck because, yes, it turns out, you do actually need all this (which isn’t to say I keep everything, I usually cut about a thousand words out of every piece because I’m being repetitive). But I genuinely spend a lot of time in the onset piecing out the structure of my argument. And make no mistake, that’s what I’m doing when I set out with an essay: I’m constructing an argument. 

Back in high school I was a huge dork who loved mathematic proofs. They’re these perfect little puzzles. You start with a few givens that you know are TRUE and have to be used to confirm your main point. So you start piecing together a sequence of points, saying “If this is true then that is true. And if that’s true then this is true.” And you just keep sequencing that logic until you prove the final point of the the damn thing, which is, you know, why they call it a proof. But I try to do the same exact thing in a critical essay, often by constructing little mini-arguments. Sure, I could probably just tell you my ending opinion in one truncated tweet, but rarely does that do the things I like about criticism. It doesn’t show you my thinking. It doesn’t respect the depth of the film. It doesn't delve into the “why.” In short, it doesn’t prove anything.

But perhaps the best way to illustrate this is to show you the structure of an argument. Take when I did the recent Joker piece, which was a giant 11 part essay. Did I really need all those sections? Well, to make the point I wanted, I felt I did. Coming out of the film I had one central thesis about how the movie’s desperate pleas of sympathy were just crappy narrative framing to justify a whole lot of ugliness (and one that reflects a larger societal ugliness). But to actually argue that here were some things I had to establish along the way:

I started with a few givens. Like (1) to understand what a movie really “is” you can’t get tripped up in the usual signifiers and instead have to understand what it wants from you. Then I had to (2) establish what narrative framing is and how movies can hide their true intentions and make themselves seem like they're saying one thing when they mean another. And then (3) get into Todd Phillips’s cinematic history to set precedent for this kind of misanthropic perspective of what is being offered in this particular film. With these three givens established in separate mini-essays, I could then talk about the movie itself.

Specifically how it (4) builds up an absurd level sympathy for Arthur so that he can (5) be justified in his actions so that he can not feel guilty when he (6) shoots people, which is what he really wanted to do in the first place, exposing how many of his justifications were just lip service. Now, some people skip the next part. But when engaging these kinds of topics, I believe that taking on possible counter-arguments is a huge part of making a convincing argument.

One reason people might disagree with my argument is by saying the film was just framing an anti-hero like Taxi Driver, so I argued (7) here’s why it’s the complete opposite of that. Then some might argue that he’s an unreliable narrator so (8) here’s why that’s just another form of thematic avoidance and hiding your ugly intentions. And finally some may argue it’s just trying to fit the depictions of the character, but (9) it isn’t in keeping with the tradition of the character at all and, in fact, perverting it by giving into the desires of the “bad fans.” 

And once those counter-arguments are batted away, you can realize that (10) not only is this problem of narrative framing true (because of what it wants, established precedent, and all the nine essay sections that came before), it’s indicative of the horrible “look at what you made me do” abuser’s logic that takes place in everyday society. Which is reflected in (11-epilogue) our acceptance of abusive logic is so normalized that no one will bat an eye and the film is held up to thunderous applause.

That is the exact flow of the argument. But I can’t just say those things. I have to walk people through why each one of them as their own little mini-essay, all en route to a final point. Now, can you pick apart and disagree with points? Of course! All I was trying to do was make the best argument possible. And I believe that a central argument is so important to any writer in connecting to an audience. So when you sit down, just think about the flow of points you are trying to argue as if they’re one big proof. But remember, this is not the be all end all. 

As writers, we are so much more than an argument…

II) Stripping The Voices

People spend a lot of time talking about “finding your voice.” It makes it sound like your voice is in some mysterious aura that’s locked in a box in the middle of the forest and you have to go on a quest to find it. Then, and only then! Will you be THE WRITER you imagine in your YOUR MIND! Yeah, that’s not really how it works. Because in some ways, you are who you are from the beginning. Just as I am who I’ve always been. I mean, I’ve always been analytical. I’ve always liked connecting with people. I always tried to be nice and find the empathetic heart of things. I wasn’t always good at it, but those are sort of just natural instincts in my personality. What’s changed is a million other things.

Because you never saw the REAL start of my writing process. Long before I started all this Hulk stuff, there were high school papers, film school essays, group email chains, and really bad blogs. But just inch by inch, day by day, I became more like myself. Because “finding your voice” isn’t so much a matter of changing who you are, it’s a matter of stripping away all the other voices that you are not (seriously, take it from someone who started all this by talking like THE INCREDIBLE HULK). Because the truth is that being “yourself” is a really hard thing to do. 

Trust me. You’re so unsure of yourself, so afraid to have your thoughts out there and have them judged like they are naked or something. So you put on a lot of other people’s voices. I remember when I tried to make pop culture references like a young Bill Simmons, or when I had footnotes like DFW, or when I tried cram in all these jokes that were totally outside my normal sense of humor. Even when Hulk started I thought it had to be way more angry and smashy and all this other stuff. But the more confident you get, the more at peace you feel with your instincts. The less you feel you need to use the armor of other voices you like. The more you can just let yourself speak. The more you learn to just say what you mean. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And as you start to do that, you also grow as a person. Sure, I’ve learned how to get better at navigating life and better understanding social principles. But all my biggest growth comes from the fact I’ve failed a lot. Back when I started I was a happy go lucky optimist, but now having gone through depths of depression and getting in touch with my emotions, fear, and guilt, I’ve learned a whole different form of connection to people. I’ve learned how to better listen and understand when people are really going through dark times. I’ve learned to open up about my struggles in turn. 

It’s not that optimism and empathy goes away, it’s that it changes shape. Like in the way I’ve also learned to draw boundaries. Back when I started I would spend so much time going into lengthy arguments with people online who (I now realize) were arguing in bad faith. I would lose hours and hours and tell myself it’s okay, cause I stood my ground and did what I could. But now after the horrors of gamergate and the rise of the alt-right, I’ve learned how better to manage and quickly cut though the B.S. of people who really just want to abuse your space and time. It’s learning to have empathy for yourself, too. All of these notions are crucial to your growth and understanding your own personhood.

And at the same time, all this comes with the utter acknowledgement that your voice is still going to be much, much. different than mine. Because, you know, you’re a completely different person. You have different experiences and thus ways of relating to films. But these differences are what I want to hear about. Even when it comes to tone, some of my favorite writers are witty and funny and yes, even deeply ironic (what they’ve often learned to do with maturity is pick their targets wisely). But what I find is that they’ve come by that voice honestly. They’re not trying to put it on. And they’re good at it because it reflects their natural state. But again, so much of it is about stripping the voices away and becoming who you really are. 

Even then, you’re going to need help in seeing yourself… 

III) Find An Mentor / Editor Who Is Better Than You

I’ve been so lucky to work with amazing editors and I cannot tell you the value of this. Sadly, a lot of people think that editors are just the kind of people who just slice up your language or change words. And yeah, sometimes it is that, but the most invaluable part of a great editor is the way they ask you important questions. For instance, my worst habit early on was vague language. But every single time the great editors would dig in and ask, “What are you actually trying to say here? Because this isn’t clear at all.” And I’d realize I was being vague because I wasn’t really sure what I was trying to say! I was trying to fudge it and use nebulous language to talk around the idea of the point instead of actually making one. Great mentors and editors will absolutely put you to task on this kind of stuff. It will seem intimidating, maybe even flustering. But you mustn’t be afraid. The entire reason they are helping you in the here and now is because they believe in you. Because the entire point of the relationship is to push you forward and be your best self. Which just means…

IV) Don’t Be Precious 

This really is important. You want to be thoughtful, but getting feedback on your writing needs to start early in the process. That’s because it’s much easier to change your essay when it is in its raw and uncooked form and much harder when you’ve spent hours trying to polish a turd (I’m mixing metaphors). You have to trust that the editors and mentors who are reading your work in progress will be able to cut through the bullshit and see the problems with the deeper architecture of what you’re working on. So share! Talk! Explore! Honing your work takes vulnerability and you can’t be afraid for them to see it in mid-sucking state. You can’t be afraid to be judged. Hell, even when you do your best and finish it off, it’s best not to dwell once it’s over. Hop back on that horse and start riding (writing) again… I’m mixing metaphors again.

Epilogue - Find Your Passionate Zen 

At the start of the essay I talked about the passion you’ll need for entering a tough as hell industry that’s on the verge of collapse. As you encounter the hardship, the annoyances, the distractions, the crippling realities, and even the ennui of success, you’ll need to keep that same passion alive. You need to keep it lit like a little flickering candle in your chest, always on the brink of being snuffed out. You need this because it is your fuel. You need this because people will be able to tell the moments when it goes out. You need it because it will keep you happy and grounded.

And at the same exact time, you need to not care. 

That is to say you need to not care about the harmful elements of this industry and find a way to protect yourself. Against the harshness. Against the dour realities. Against the fruitless, consuming nature of the pursuit. Because there are so many elements about what gets published or people’s negative responses that are beyond your control. Which means you need to not live and die by the validation of people’s responses. You need to not put your self-worth into getting adoration. You need to not let your self-worth be damaged by a single errant comment. In short, you need to find your zen state.

So when looking at these two needs, you realize that what you really need is to achieve a stasis between passion and zen. This dichotomy is not easy, but it’s critical to your development. I even think this is reflective of the best way of going into watching films: wide-eyed with no anticipation, no expectations of hype, but open to the delights within. Let me tell you, since I’ve learned to do this I’ve been so much happier in my movie-going. And I think you’ll discover it, too.

But it’s honestly hard to summarize what I’ve said here and what I hope you can take from this going forward. That’s because everything I’ve said here is mostly things I wish I knew years ago. And it all comes with the acknowledgement that humans really only learn things the hard way. But if the thoughts in this essay can lead to some small measure of calm, awareness, or insight, then I am happy. Because what I want is what I’ve always wanted: not agreement, but a world that is both more engaged with and understanding of a medium I adore. For this, and for so many other reasons…

I’m rooting for you.

<3HULK