For as long as I can remember, I have always been a writer. Be it my high school essay on Disney's acquisition of LucasFilm, my poorly written Smallville movie script (which was more like an overly-ambitious piece of fan fiction), or my childhood “Petty Comics” that no other eyes have examined but my own, I couldn’t be kept from pen and paper. Dozens of half-filled notebooks littered my childhood bedroom in St. Charles, Illinois, with plenty more filled to the brim with scribbles and dreams.
Whenever we embarked on our latest family road trip, I’d be sure to have at least one composition notebook tucked away in my unduly stuffed backpack, just in case. If you couldn’t tell, I was a big dreamer. On these trips, I would stare out the car window and imagine entire unseen worlds superimposed on our own. A flying sasquatch followed our car through the rainforests in Washington. Super-powered citizens battled each other at Millennium Park. Angels overpowered demons at the base of Devil’s Tower. And so on.
Of course, this wasn’t limited to family road trips, though that was when it was the most fun. Even at my elementary school, I distinctly remember often conjuring up Batman himself as he chased the Joker through the halls.
To say that my imagination was overactive is an understatement. It wasn’t just overactive, it was unruly. While I’d never discourage anyone from building worlds of their own, I learned the hard way that a lack of mental discipline (i.e. reigning in the Joker long before Batman was forced to chase him) only hurt my imaginary worlds, and my dreams, in the long run.
For me, the alternative is and has always been to engage in consistent creative output so that my mind isn’t overwhelmed with new ideas or jam-packed with useless knowledge. Obviously, this is much easier said than done.
In school, there was always a sense of forced routine. I went to this class at this time, got home at this hour, and then went right up to my room and exploded with colorful fantasies. Unfortunately, the school system, even the private and Christian kind, rarely encourages overly-creative children, instead pushing them towards higher standards of academics that they can then use to promote their institutions (and, in the case of private schools, raise tuition).
College was a bit better, though still required more discipline than I was willing to admit at the time. Able to curate my own schedule, I balanced school and work expertly with my social life, CrossLife, and countless film sets per semester, making sure to give each of these their proper due. Because of my major, I insisted that I didn’t need my own creative outlet outside the classroom, and often spent my nights in a daze binging the latest show I wanted to watch on Netflix.
Occasionally, I would find ways to be creative on my own. Writing short films that weren’t for class, publishing a blog about my own faith journey, or even returning to the podcast microphone to talk about some of my favorite TV shows at the time were all ways I attempted to re-engage with my childhood dreams and desire to express the wells of stories that lay restless within. Sometimes the release worked its magic, and other times it left something to be desired. In any event, I was too busy to commit to anything more.
Post-graduation was a re-awakening for me. After many of my classmates moved on from our four-year home in Bozeman, Montana, I spent all my time outside of work building new worlds. I wrote and rewrote screenplays and teleplays, outlined entire seasons of yet-to-be-produced television, and even submitted them to various competitions across the lower 48. Freed from academic and social responsibility, I was finally able to run wild and free and would spend hours driving along the backroads of the Last Best Place searching for my next adventure. But this too wasn’t bound to last.
Soon, I began making new friends and spent more and more time with them. I got further involved in my church and volunteered more and more often. I even started dating the wonderful woman who would become my wife. Social and spiritual obligations meant that I couldn’t just lock myself in my home and sit for hours in front of the fireplace chomping away at the latest mystery thriller or detective fantasy I had forged in my mind. Not that I could have anyway since I also shared said home with my parents and siblings again for the first time in half a decade.
For a while, I was annoyed at all this change, blaming others for my own inability to discipline myself and find the time. But, since marrying my wife, moving to Los Angeles, and now becoming a father to our baby girl who I will henceforth refer to by our affectionate nickname for her ("the Little Miss”), I’ve come to recognize something that I had never fully believed before. All the stories in the world would be for nothing if I didn’t actively live out the adventure that my Creator had called me to.
Like Gandalf calling first Bilbo and later Frodo to an adventure of a lifetime, so does Christ call us to live simply in the wonderous world that He created. To do this, we (rather, I) must…
Lovingly lay down our lives for our spouse
Rear our children well
Work our jobs with excellence
Love our neighbors as we love ourselves
And, above all, make Him the object of our undying affection
For too long, my own dreams had been that object, and after far too long of holding them as the ultimate prize worth winning, the deeper truth is that Jesus alone is that prize. When we come to recognize this as the absolute standard, we’ll soon recognize and receive the dozens of other little prizes that He showers us with (often daily) along the way.
Don’t misunderstand, I still have my dreams of writing for film and television, but I am no longer limited to or bound by them. Since recognizing that God alone will open and close the right or wrong doors, I have experienced so much freedom that has allowed me to venture out into unknown and unexplored territory. It has also forced me to become more disciplined with my time, forcing moments of peace and quiet and utilizing them to the best of my creative ability.
Currently, I am writing a short story that will (Lord willing) be published on Amazon before the end of the year, and it has been one of the most thrilling projects I’ve worked on in years. For the first time in over a decade, I wrote this entire story in a notebook before having my wife transcribe it digitally. Revisiting this process forced me to slow down, take my time, and let the story flow naturally rather than forcing or distorting it in the moment. It’s been a beautiful adventure, and one I’m excited to continue.
So, after all these words and ramblings, what is Further Up & Further In?
It is a space where once a week we can explore creativity. It’s a place where I can process and share my own personal revelations about any and everything from Christianity and storytelling to marriage, being a new parent, traveling, and pop culture. Yes, it’s a newsletter of sorts, but one that’s hopefully engaging, challenging, entertaining, and maybe even a little convicting.
As for the title, it comes from The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, specifically, the seventh and final installment aptly titled The Last Battle, where our heroes all pass through Narnia, now gone, into Aslan’s Country, a better and even deeper Narnia. As the friends of Narnia, including characters from all seven fantasy tales, explore this new land, they realize that it’s ultimately the country they had been longing for their entire lives.
“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now... Come further up, come further in!”
This is the message that I hope to express here. We weren’t made for this world, but we can find deep beauty and loveliness in it. God first made it “good” after all.
Though this isn’t a strictly Christian project, in many ways, it is distinctly and fundamentally one. My faith and my hope in Jesus Christ will certainly play a significant part in this creative endeavor, as it should. If that’s a turn-off for you, then I’m sorry to see you go, but, in the words of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, “it would have never worked between us.” I hope it isn’t a turn off though, and that you’re willing to continue this adventure with me because I’m more than happy to have you!
If you’ve made it this far, thank you. Most likely, these musings won’t all be as long as this one, though I cannot promise that there won’t be a few long ones along the way. I’m known to ramble.
This Week’s Petty Pick
As we continue this adventure together, I’d like to end each of these ruminations with something I like or recommend that people check out. It’s just a fun way for me to share the things that inspire, excite, or entertain me as I aim to do the same for others. I am not sponsored by anyone, nor do I get any money or, well, anything from sharing these things, it’s just something I like to do.
The Iron Giant is my favorite movie and there’s nothing else that comes even close. It’s hard to describe what Brad Bird’s animated masterpiece means to me (though I have tried), so it’s probably best that you just watch this one for yourself.
With intense themes of mortality, responsibility, and heroism, and lots of childlike wonder, you’ll yearn for the days of old where you could wander throughout the woods void of responsibility and supervision, with only your imagination by your side. That and maybe a 50-foot-tall metal man.