Wands Spotlight: Liz Garcia

You may remember my friend, the great filmmaker, Liz Garcia, from this interview we did a few months ago. Liz is a super successful writer and director and I am enormous fan of both her work and her soul. She's got some great tips and tricks for other artists in this interview. Enjoy!

How would you describe yourself? Do you use the word “artist”? Do you use another word? 

It’s crazy how loaded these labels are for me. I rarely call myself an artist because I consider screenwriting low art, and I LOVE that. There’s some rebellion in it for me in participating in a populist medium, rebellion against elitism, against male auteurs. However, there’s been a boost in claiming the label filmmaker the last few years (I’ve been one for much longer than that.) In some ways, I’m always responding to the way men have done this, and they love the filmmaker label and the “a film by” label. I want to debunk their myths of superiority and I wanna steal some of their power and stuff it in my chipmunk cheeks and take it back to the lady den!  

How do you know when it’s time to move out of the envisioning/brainstorming/inspiration gathering process and get to work?

Funny how even that question makes me defensive like “I’m not READY YET!”  I’ve invented all sorts of tricks to essential hack my procrastination in the creative process, one of which is starting the writing-writing with a scene I consider a treat. Dessert first. That helps lure me out of the planning phase. See, I really like dessert. 

As for how I know it’s time to lure myself out with dessert, typically it’s because there’s a deadline knocking. Or, because once I discover the dessert scene, I’m chomping at the bit. 

Are you a planner/outliner? Is your process more intuitive? How did you discover a process that worked for you? And have you ever worked differently?

I didn’t come to the process I use now until deep into my career. The first half of my feature writing career I was using my jobs as a means of personal expression and a means of exercising my ego. I didn’t know that. I didn’t even know that was wrong per se. I was taking the opportunities I had to write and writing *my way.* Let me parse why that was a problem: a) I took notes so personally because I wasn’t writing my own work on the side to satisfy the “deep self expression/artist” part of being a writer and b) because I was jumping into a flow state and writing from my heart and instinct only, I did not have enough of a disciplined process and therefore could not fix problems. You can’t fix the leak in the basement if the basement is a mess. (This is only a metaphor; my actual basement is a mess.) 

The result was that I was getting these feature assignment jobs and I was not, let’s say, killing it. I was frustrated with my feature career, frustrated with myself. And around this time two things were happening: a) I became a mom, and started watching Pixar movies over and over with my kids. Like bones in an X-ray, the structure of those movies started to glow in the darkness. B) I was finally directing my own movies, so the ego part, the self-expression ‘see me in my work somebody seeee me please!’ Piece was getting satisfied. 

Also, I was old enough to stop being a dumb snob who felt like the rules didn’t apply to her. 

So, I began to approach my work differently, and I started with Space Cadet. I was very strict about adhering to a traditional structure. I Saved The Cat that thing like my life depended on it and guess what, y’all? The structure works.

So, now, although I am still a bratty child who has to be lured by dessert, I force myself to design a traditional structure (which is more like bullet points than an outline) before I begin to write. 

Can you describe the worst part of your creative process? Which step do you enjoy the least?

This is a wee bit vulnerable for me, but the internet is an amazing place to be vulnerable, right? Right?! The hardest part of the creative process is how mean I am to myself. When I was a young person, I developed an inner voice who must be a Soviet gymnastics coach. She’s only gotten saltier as I’ve gotten older, too. This bitch is certain I’m never working hard enough or fast enough or up to my abilities. I am not realizing my potential. I’ll never achieve my goals. So, she says. She takes up a lot of energy and she’s not helpful. Silencing her so I can actually get my work done and hear my instincts is the most annoying part of the process. 

What is your favorite part of the creative process and why?

I love when I surprise myself. When I invent a character or write a line of dialogue that I return to later like ‘who the fuck/how the fuck/really?’ I love that my brain is collecting little shiny bits from life and deposits them on the page later when I need them. And, I love that for all the ways I make myself acceptable in real life and in society, the various unacceptable weirdo versions of myself still thrive in my creative brain and show up to be random on the page. 

How active is your inner critic in your process? How do you deal with your inner critic? Does he/she ever have anything helpful to say? Do you have any tips for how to silence them?

See above re: worst part 

How do you deal with burnout?

 Here’s hoping some other artist has great advice re: this question. Honestly, I’m constantly on the hustle and I can’t stop because um, bills and capitalism. So, I’ve been burnt out for a long while. I don’t know that I’ve healed completely, but I know that leaning into my fandom is a temporary balm. Watching stuff I love and fawning in a very uncool way on social media is like a little ginger shot to the soul.  

Have you ever had a burst of inspiration where your creative process has felt like channeling? Where something artistic feels like it is pouring out of you, quicker than you can even process it? Do you have any idea how or why that happened? 

Yeah, absolutely. Isn’t that what we’re all chasing, that one moment or handful of moments when we transcended the present and birthed work that surprised us? I know that those are the moments when I’ve had a clear commuter lane between my creative self and the page. No obstacles in the way of stress or expectations. No interruptions to bring me out of the flow state. I believe the creative brain, the unconscious, has a deep sense of story structure, so that when you’re cruising in that commuter lane you don’t even need an outline. Tragically, those transcendent moments happen one out of every 300 writing days. 

What is the best piece of creative advice you’ve ever gotten?

The best piece of creative advice I’ve ever gotten was from my mother, actually. She’s an artist and a teacher. Her advice: Creating for a result (to sell, to please, to change career) is going to hinder your process, if not shut it down completely. A way to bypass this mindset is to lean into what is forbidden or naughty about your project. In other words, what’s the scene, the tone, the  reveal, that the people in your life don’t want you to write. Is it a sex scene? Is it making fun of a family member? Is it revealing how dark you really are? Lean in, lean in, lean in. In this way, you are giving the finger to results and expectations and reasserting your authority over your own work. 

What is the best piece of creative advice you’ve given?

I strongly strongly encourage writers facing some kind of career challenge — whether it’s getting started or feeling burnt out or misplaced — to write something so revealing it’s embarrassing. Whether it’s revealing because it’s autobiographical or revealing because it’s in an unexpected tone from you, by writing something embarrassing you are guaranteed to write something specifically you. Something unique. Ultimately, though you must of course demonstrate competence in the medium, putting yourself on the page is what makes the difference between people responding to your work or forgetting you.