The Theory of Everything

Let’s talk about Eddie Redmayne for a minute.

OSCAR.   Okay, as you were.

I saw The Theory of Everything for the second time last night. And I am still in love… 

I am fascinated by the people who know brand new things before the world gets to know them – the people who look at a quickly drawn tumble of numbers on a blackboard, soft bits of chalk getting in between their fingernails, after weeks and months and years of walking through life and imagining — What if???

The people who suddenly understand the motion of the stars or the energy of an atom.  The first man who imagined a way of taking Jules Verne’s wild ideas about space guns and transforming them into one of the grandest moments of human history. One small step for man… The man who takes standard economic theory and turns it on its head. The genius who imagines a wax cylinder of sound — our very own voices preserved for the future. A train, coming to crush a theater — and the moment it stays on screen. The dawn of a new branch of science or mathematics… We’ll call it a quark. 

Can I just sit next to someone in this moment of discovery, please??? 

There is something so perfectly, intensely creative about these future moments — when the way things are always going to be somehow bleeds ever so briefly into now, and we whisper the words “This is where it all begins.” This is the day we first hear of the things that will one day become commonplace and accepted, understood by even the youngest around us. We are changed forever, and our history will begin a new orbit after a moment like this.

This way of life, this constant exploration is THE THING that gives humanity our life and breath… we explore because we do not understand, because we are seeking that something that will explain everything to us… and perhaps we will never ever arrive at such an extravagant moment of – I understand. Completely — any more than we might ever arrive at such a moment of being known completely by another human being. Even someone as brilliant as Stephen Hawking has thought and rethought his theories. And so we continue on.

But we catch glimpses of those moments – brief hints filled with promise and hope.

A few weeks ago, when NASA and friends landed Philae on the comet (and the world spent the next several days making Bruce Willis jokes and listening to “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing”) — they discovered that the comet sang. They think that the song is actually oscillations in the magnetic field around the comet — but no one knows for certain. They just hear the song. One of the scientists on the project – Dr. Karl-Heinz Glassmeier – said what is probably one of my favorite quotes this year:

“This is exciting because it is completely new to us.”

It was unexpected and unexplained — the polite and proper scientific equivalent of “What the hell is this???”  These moments are exciting. These are the ones we live for. They are scary and inviting, overwhelming and beautiful…  They carry us through the darkest places where we are misunderstood and broken, where we live out the brutal consequences of selfish choices gone awry.  None of us are perfect, sadly.  I have every intention of being just that all the time, and it never quite works out the way I wanted it to. But those moments of life – those sweetly quiet moments – I want to live here forever!  Those are the ones I dream about.  I think we all do… And maybe one day we will find that theory of everything — where planets and quarks align and there is a grand, overarching mathematical theory that explains why everything moves the way that it does. We could see back to the beginning of it all…

Or perhaps God is laughing at us, because the best answer we’re ever going to get is “That’s just the way it is…”  And what a weird and mystical universe that would be…

theory of everything

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My 36-Hour Day

the sun will keep risingI’ve said it over and over and over… mostly as a joke — but seriously, if someone can figure out how to do this, could you let me know?

I wish I had more hours in my day!!! 

But there it is, 24 hours, day in and day out. (Except for the day you take Virgin Atlantic’s awesome London-LA flight after a kickass round of meetings. Then your day is 35 1/2 hours long and you STILL don’t get everything done you wanted to get done.  I think there may be a life lesson in here somewhere…)

The days and weeks and years will go on regardless of whether we are hopeful or hopeless, whether we are patient or impatient, whether I write or do not write. And on one level, that feels completely suffocating — time will go on whether we want it to or not. But at the same time, I think there can be great freedom in that — October and November and December are going to come, 2015 and beyond will come — and maybe I’ll be really glad that I wrote that one page all those months ago, because TODAY, it matters. And I guess today that it did matter.. and I hope that somehow, in some weird way, that this is encouraging for you as well… time marches on, but what you’re doing MATTERS.

Keep going…

 

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Surviving Comic Con (A How-To Guide)

I wrote this after Comic Con 2012, and it only seemed fitting to bring it back for today.  Enjoy!!! 

———————

First time at Comic Con?  I can help! 

Comic Con 2012 was a smashing success! 

There are things no one tells you about Comic Con, because it’s kind of like asking about details of Disneyland.  No one tells you about how long they stood in line or how much time they spent staring at the map when they should have been sprinting to make it to yet another showing of Abraham Lincoln. Because who wants to hear that when you can talk about Space Mountain and pizza in Tomorrowland or Indiana Jones and your third Dole Pineapple Whip of the day?  (Just me?  Where was I?  Back to Comic Con…)   So I’m going to try to help you out here.

1. You are going to stand in line.  For a LONG time. It’s worth it.

This morning, Luke and I (and friends) stood 4000+ people back in line for Hall H – home of fantastic panels like FRINGE… and most importantly… DOCTOR WHO!  Doctor Who!

There were people who camped out overnight.  Our 3+ hours in line = a cakewalk. It’s just par for the course if you really want to see specific panels or exhibitions or film clips or you just want to stare at Matt Smith see your geek favorites.

Get used to the lines.  Love the lines.  It’s worth it. Seriously, though.  You’re standing next to people who love exactly the same tv show/movie/comic book that you do.  Make a new friend!  Bring a backpack and snacks to share.  You’ll totally be the cool kid in the lunchroom whose mom packed the good desserts while everyone else is stuck with squishy day-old turkey.

2. Accept that you won’t get to see everything you wanted to see.  It makes you love the things you do get to see. 

This is coming from the girl who couldn’t make it to the Firefly panel.  It just happens sometimes, and that’s okay.  Plan as best you can, and just run with it.  Make better plans for next year. And take tons of pictures in the panels you do get into.  Enjoy it!

3. Sit in on random panels.  You might be in for a surprise or two! 

Nathan Fillion, Sarah Wayne Callies, Liam McIntyreNow, stopping for another moment of truth.  Sometimes, in order to get into a later panel in the day, it means you have to sit through the three panels beforehand.  (They don’t clear the room in between panels at Comic Con.  Once you’re in the room, you’re in.)   Yesterday, while waiting for the Alphas panel in the shiny and beautiful Indigo Ballroom, the moderator got up and announced the TV Guide panel.  Thrilling stuff. But there was no way on earth I was missing Alphas, so TV Guide it was.  (Is there even a TV Guide anymore?  Does anyone still watch that channel?)  And then Joel McHale of Community and The Soup walked in.  And Liam McIntyre from Spartacus. And Maggie Q from Nikita. And Sarah Wayne Callies from The Walking Dead.  And Jasika Nicole from Fringe. And did I mention Matt Smith and Nathan Fillion?  It was a fantastic panel and I am SO glad that I just happened to be there.

And today, I was in Hall H for the Fringe panel at 10am.  And I have been waiting for a year to get into the Doctor Who panel at 12:30 since I couldn’t make it last year (again, see #2). I wouldn’t have missed either of those panels for the world.  But, in between was the Supernatural panel, a show I just haven’t had a chance to watch.  But after today’s panel, I’m seriously going to get Season 1 and start watching.  The panel was hilarious, and it made me want to give the show a try.  I’m so excited for it!

See?  You never know…

4. “Cosplay” = all the awesome costumes around you.

That’s like Comic Con 101.  If you have to ask someone what ‘cosplay’ means, you’ll definitely get the “Who are you and why are you at Comic Con?” look.  So now you know. You’re welcome.

5. Doctor Who. TARDIS. Felicia Day.  The Guild. Firefly. Star Trek. Tribbles. Star Wars. Buffy. JJ Abrams. Jane Espenson. Battlestar Galactica. Geek and Sundry. Summer Glau. The angels have the phonebox.  Chris Hardwick. The Nerdist. Lord of the Rings.

Chris HardwickComic Con 201.  Learn, young Jedi, learn.  It will keep you from asking questions like, “What’s a sonic screwdriver?” in front of 4000 Whovians who will eat your heart out if you mess with their show.  And I like you, readers.  No getting your heart ripped out.  You need to come back!  (And that’s a whole other show anyway…)

As seems to be the theme of this blog, you never know what you’re going to discover.

6.  Be ridiculous.  Wear the hat.  Paint your face.  Let your geek flag fly.  Have fun! 

Have a blast.  It’s so worth it… The real world will be waiting for you on Monday…

I now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

love,

an incredibly exhausted and happy Lynn

 

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50 Ideas. 5 Days. Go!

 

50 in 5

In my recent post In Case of Natural Disaster, I made a passing reference to my 50-in-5 lists, a writing habit I created for myself a few years ago as I’ve gotten further and further into this crazy tv writing career. And the texts and conversations that poured in as soon as I posted it all tended to swirl around one question — What is this 50-in-5 thing?  So, I thought it was time for some answers.

The Short Answer: A List. 50 Ideas. 5 Days.

Yep.  You heard me. 5-0 ideas. 5-0 loglines. 5-0 characters and creations and complications. Fifty.

I give myself 5 days to come up with 50 ideas — written down and saved for future storyline ideas. Now, lest you think I am some sort of story genius with ideas just pouring out of me all the time… It’s true!  It’s all true!  I am a genius!!! (*goes mad with power*)

Just kidding. 

The Long Answer: 49 Terrible/Mediocre/Ehhh/Boring Ideas. Hopefully one good one. 5 days.

50-in-5 lists are messy, and that’s perfectly all right. 

I’ve found that the easiest way to start a 50-in-5 list is to start a new doc on my ever-present laptop.  There are other times I’ve put everything on post-it notes or handwritten the lists in my journal.  But I’m at my most organized when it’s all on my computer. And post-it notes fall off the wall and get vacuumed up or tucked away in yesterday’s mail — and I for one hate the idea that my Emmy-winning idea is lost in the belly of my Roomba. That would suck.

But find a way to organize and keep these lists — whatever works for you!

The list begins, and every morning — before I do any other writing for the day, I come up with 10 ideas. I push myself until I hit 10. I’m not allowed to do anything else until I get to those magic double digits.  If I have a spectacular idea day and come up with 11 or 13 or 15 off the cuff, so much the better.  But tomorrow, I have to come up with 10 all over again.  (No cheating or stockpiling today’s ideas for tomorrow. I’m onto you!)

10 ideas. Go!

Each idea has to be its own world or story. No cheating with half-ideas like — A girl named Ava. Or — The biggest apology in the history of the world!   If that were the case,  could just pull up a baby names website and a list of emotions and call it a day.  That’s not going to be helpful when I need to have story ideas later. Each idea has to give a sense of the world or a complication within that world. The story of Ava and her career as a professional juror in this far-future world in which ‘trial by a jury of your peers’ is no more.   Or:  Aliens come to earth for the first time and are extremely apologetic.  “We didn’t realize we’d left you off the list of inhabited planets for the last several centuries.  Welcome to the New Republic!” 

What stories do you want to see? What stories do you want to tell?

And the most important part: they don’t have to be perfect ideas, or even good ones. Most of the ideas from each day are going to be almost immediately discarded.  They’re similar to something else that someone else has already written. Or they’re romantic comedy ideas that I will never, ever write. They’re not interesting to me. They’re utterly ridiculous. (My clown car cleaning shop idea stands out loud and clear here.)

Don’t be afraid of the bad ideas or get stuck on needing to have 10 amazing ideas every day.  You’ll get stuck somewhere early on in your daily list and give up.  If I can’t come up with three ideas today, how can I ever come up with fifty ideas by Friday???  It’s not easy.  But keep going.

Why do I do this to myself?

I spend all day every day thinking about story.  It’s the glorious life of being a writer.  So I realized I needed a way to organize and hang onto the good ideas that pop into my head pre-coffee. I may not want to write that particular story today or any time this year, but if there’s the seed of a good story there — I can save it the day I’m ready for it.

I also need a way to get all of the bad ideas out of my head so I don’t have to think about them anymore.  There’s something about seeing a really truly terrible story idea in black and white, unblinking on my computer screen.  Beforehand, I think: Hmmm… maybe that could be something? And then when it’s in front of me, I can safely say: Wow. No. That’s like the worst idea. Ever. EVER.  It’s okay to let it go.  Now I never have to think about that story again, and I free up just a tiny bit of brain space that will hopefully be used for something else better tomorrow.

The last five projects I’ve written – three pilots, one feature and one webseries – have all come from the best of my 50-in-5 lists.

I actually don’t think I could live without them now.  Plus — when I’m really desperate on my worst days, the days where I wonder if I really can keep writing as a career — they’re an amazing way to procrastinate and yet still be productive in the long run.

And in my neurotic writer brain, by the time I’m done with the list, there’s a quiet voice in the back of my head that says: Yep. You can do this. Keep going. 

I use my 50-in-5 lists for writing… but I wonder what else they could be used for?  Ideas, anyone? I’d love to hear… 

I write a lot about my writing life. Interested in more? Check it out!

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The World Cup and Life Off-Planet

(How’s she going to tie those two together???  I know you asked.)

world cup

I seriously love today.

Just a few miles from my house, the LA Kings are gearing up for their Stanley Cup victory parade.  I will forever and ever be a Colorado Avalanche fan (you can take the girl out of Colorado…) but there’s something fantastic about being in my adopted home city, celebrating together like this.

And I’m curled up on my couch writing today, the World Cup playing in the background. The world is watching and celebrating. And I’m really sure that if I wanted to, I could walk down my street to one of our local sports bars at noon and watch the game with a bunch of people I don’t know, but who would immediately become great friends.  But I should probably eat lunch before I hit a sports bar, you know?

I’ll be the first person to admit that I am not the most sports-inclined of us all. 

I broke my hand playing soccer when I was younger.  I tore tendons running across a level floor.  God did not grace me with the athletic gene, it would seem.

But I am all about the stories that come out of events like the World Cup.  It’s like the Olympics all over again.  These athletes have been preparing for this moment their entire career – their entire lives.  They have nothing to lose and everything to gain — and they play like it.  Now is not the time to hold back — now’s the time to run that 4 minute mile they’ve been dreaming about their entire lives.   (Mixed metaphor? Maybe.)

There’s also something glorious about a world at war, pausing to play beautifully together.

Just for a brief moment, we are all humans together. 

Just humans. Together.

I think it’s this same feeling that’s drawn me to all things NASA– and space-related.  I dream about off-planet colonies, and Neil Armstrong & Buzz Aldrin have always been two of my heroes. They are stories of great adventurers, of men and women the world over — living at the very top of their skills, miraculously accomplishing the thing that was impossible yesterday.  The most recent episode of Mad Men totally nailed the excitement of the world coming together to watch a beautiful leap forward. And even though I know that story backwards and forwards — I was totally in that moment.

We come together around our common stories.

I wake up every day dreaming about the possibility that I’ll actually see a Mars landing in my lifetime.  (Seriously. Every day.  It’s one of my many obsessions.)  I’ll never work at NASA.  And I seriously doubt I’ll ever walk on the moon unless somebody totally rocks out space tourism like, pronto.

But I am a storyteller.

I write for TV and tell stories of a world further along than we are — where humans live off-planet, where they’ve already accomplished the things we can only dream of.  Where we’ve come together to make something beautiful and bigger than ourselves.  But one day, I’ll tell a story that will inspire someone to GO. and DO. and CREATE.  A story that makes the world wonder: What if??  Those are my favorite stories.

Maybe we’ll actually start chasing our dreams out into the stars.

And for that moment, we will all be humans together.

 

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The Fault in Our Stars

I read The Fault in Our Stars a little over a year ago, and quite literally from the first page — I was in awe.  “Made up stories can matter…”

I’m always leery of novel adaptations – especially ones for the smaller, more intimate books I’ve loved so well.  But this one was absolutely wonderful.  (Perks of Being a Wallflower nailed the novel-to-film adaptation too, brilliantly so.)

And so, Hazel Grace Lancaster will always be living among the pages of a book and in the frames of a film… and we will love her for it. 

And there will be Augustus Waters, fighting for Hazel, encouraging her, loving her.

I think my favorite part of this book and this story is how deftly the deep emotions of life — not just love, but loss, anger, frustration, joy, and even boredom — are dealt with.  Augustus and Hazel are wildly imperfect, facing the unimaginable truth of I will not make it to my 20th birthday.  They’re angry and scared, and it makes them lash out unexpectedly.  These aren’t the preternaturally wise, overly effusive Wise Cancer Kids that we’ve come to expect from our Literature of the Sick Children.  (Augustus occasionally gets close to it — until you realize he’s trying to sound wise and important and he’s not actually all that awesome at it.)

Hazel and Augustus’ existence is not predicated on teaching everyone around them: Carpe Diem!   They watch movies and egg someone’s car and laugh at Patrick, their support group leader.  They’re funny and occasionally wise. They wonder about their families, and how they will handle a post-cancer kid life.  I wonder what my parents will do after I’m dead.  It’s a fact of life, not a strangely speculative question that will never actually have to be answered.

I wonder what happens after I’m dead.  

We all get one life to piece together — filled with 24-hour days and 7-days-a-week.  You go to school, learn how to ride a bike, grow up, finish school, fall in love, find a career, have a baby (and very rarely in that actual order).  You create Your Life.  And the whispers in the air will tell you that unless you’ve got thirty thousand followers on Twitter or a hit movie or your name in the company’s letterhead… well, you haven’t really made it. And so we fight and scream.  We cry because we’re afraid:

What if none of this matters? 

We stand in front of the great void, screaming at the top of our lungs, praying we making a difference while actually wondering deep down in our souls if we are the only ones listening to our voices — like maybe the wind is echoing too loudly and sweeping our own words back across our faces.

There will be many of us out there who make an enormous difference in the world.  I feel like the luckiest girl in the world right now that I’m surrounded by people who get out there and DO the things that most of us will never get a chance to do.  I have friends who are CEOs of their own companies, showrunners and writers, lawyers, editors, directors, musicians, teachers.  They go ahead where few will dare to follow.  The world around us is changing — and we’re trying to create Our Life in a way that matters.  But the echoes of screams and the adoration of the masses won’t be the things that will pull you through into tomorrow.

The most impactful moments of my life have come unexpectedly — in the small moments of dinner with friends or picking up the phone at 4 in the morning, standing together in front of that great void, finally realizing that we are not alone in this… that it is better to be loved deeply by one than adored from afar by millions of strangers.

I’m here for you. Just you.  Okay? 

You are enough.

tfios
Go see this movie!

  

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I Would Have Died…

LA

 

I moved to this beautiful, brutal city in February of 2008. 

Luke and I had no jobs.  No apartment. Nothing, really, besides a U-Haul truck full of everything we owned and the absolute know-it-in-your-soul certainty that Los Angeles was exactly where we were supposed to be.  We’d come out to LA at the end of January for vacation and “just to see” if maybe one day we might be able to pull off living here.

The sun. The ocean. The farmer’s market. The hint of promise in their air.  The sense of We are home. 

We flew back, quit our jobs and moved to LA three weeks later.

—————————————

I was 8 when I came home from school and announced I’m going to be a writer when I grow up.  

I was 18 when I realized that I wasn’t going to have to give up writing like some sort of childhood habit I was outgrowing. I am going to be a writer.  I am a writer. This is actually going to happen.

I was 28 when my first episode of television aired.

And that is a hell of a lot of in-betweens.

—————————————

When I first moved to LA, if someone would have told me that it was going to take five years between driving across the California state line and the first time I wrote a script that got shot — I would have died.  Five years is an eternity. An absolute, unending eternity when you’re standing at the beginning. It would have felt like the insurmountable challenge of my life.

When I was 8, I couldn’t even comprehend the idea of 28.

I had so many in-betweens, eternities and a half in the moments ahead. 

But that’s where all of life was lived — one day at a time, in all of the moments that fed into my stories to make them real.  Journeys are always the scariest at the beginnings. Projects are always the most overwhelming when you’re cracking the very first book for research and thinking Six whole months here?  It’s true — I probably would have died if someone tried to explain 28 to my 8 year old self.

But I wouldn’t trade all that time for anything.


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Who Are Your People?

best friends

It’s all about COMMUNITY.

No, not that one. (Although — while we’re here: #sixseasonsandamovie!!!!!  Netflix, seriously — it’s your move.)

Who Are Your People? 

It was after midnight here, which means it was just after 3am where my BFF lives.  It had been a really brutal day, and I’d been meaning to call her all.day.long.  And I picked up the phone and started dialing before realizing 3AM.   I decided to call her in the morning because I really just wanted to chat about random life stuff, not anything crazy and worth a 3AM phone call.

But the thing is I know I could call at 3 in the morning and she wouldn’t miss a beat.

I go on girls trips with my two best friends — and they are some of my favorite moments in the entire year.  Lots of laughter and awesome ridiculousness and “Oh my… Do NOT put that on Instagram. Or Facebook. Or Twitter.” This is what happens when you’ve all been dear friends for 10+ years.  But I also know that at some point, the real conversations are going to begin.  The ones that start with them calling me out on the lies I’ve believed, the fears I’ve let myself live with, the risks I’ve totally shied away from.

It’s never easy to have your soul exposed like that. 

But it’s always good.

So — go. Be brave. Take risks. Be willing to let yourself be known. Because I promise, you’ll never be the same.

 

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The Art of Being Rejected Without Dying

drafts and drafts

No, thanks.  It’s not for us.  We’re going to pass. 

Life as a writer is a life of rejection far (FAR) more often than not. 

These are things no one tells you before you start.  Or – they do tell you, and you think: Oh, not me!  I’m going to sell the first thing I write! For a million dollars.  Because I am that awesome. 

You will be rejected —

— if not that first time, then another time.  Or another time after that. Even though you really, truly are awesome.  And every. single. time. it will hurt like hell.  When you’ve poured your heart and soul into a project, spending countless hours staring into the unforgiving face of your laptop, missing out on friends and family (or let’s be honest — even an uninterrupted marathon of Orphan Black) — to have someone read what you’ve written and not be equally enamored with it can feel like humiliation of the highest order.

Maybe I shouldn’t even be a writer… you quietly think. I just want to die. 

Sometimes that rejection is all about you and all about your project.

If you didn’t take the time to make it truly excellent — then why on earth would someone else take it seriously?  Don’t put junk out into the world.  Or — maybe you did take it seriously, but there are technical issues with it.  You forgot to be original and created a carbon copy of something that already exists. Maybe you still haven’t quite figured out Final Draft. Maybe you did sell something, but there are still issues with it.  So you’re going to get notes that don’t mince words: We think this part sucks. Fix it.  

So, be a better writer on the next draft or the next project.  Grow from this experience of utter and complete rejection.  The first pilots I ever wrote (including the ones that got me signed with my reps) are buried in a password-protected folder on my laptop.  They will never sell. They will NEVER see the light of day again. Because I’m a better, stronger writer than I used to be. We’ve all been there. And we’ll all continue to be there for the rest of our careers. There’s always a way to get better.

But sometimes that rejection has absolutely nothing to do with you at all.

For instance, I have a kickass pilot that I am completely in love with.  Along the way, a company passed on it because they were looking for female-driven relationship dramas.  So, my male-led sci-fi thriller was never going to make it on their development slate.  It was a bad match. So, maybe the company you’re pitching is the wrong company for your awesome story.  Maybe they already have another Lawyer-By-Day-Shark-Fighter-By-Night project in the pipeline. Maybe you caught them on a bad day, and they read through page 5 of your story when 6 is where it really gets started! Maybe the executive really doesn’t have any time over the next two months.   None of these make you a bad writer.

It just means you’re playing the ever-popular game of Trying to Sell Something.

Rejection feels like death, no matter the reason behind it. 

Every writer has days where they just want to crawl in a hole and die. This is part of the story and part of the life of being a writer.  Get used to it, or seriously — get off the roller coaster, for your own safety and sanity.

But if you can take every No, thanks. and find some little piece that will help you move onto the next awesome thing (that will still have a 99% chance of being rejected)… one day, you’re going to hit it.

We love it. We’d like to sign on. Let’s go make a movie. 

One day…

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The Whiskey’s Mine

fancy heels...

It happens all the time.

Luke and I went out for a fancy dinner a few nights ago,  and I ordered my drink to go along with my roasted brussels sprouts,  chipotle hummus and kale salad.  (It’s more amazing than it sounds. Wood & Vine knows how to do things right.)  Another waiter brought our drinks and without blinking an eye handed my old fashioned to Luke.

Because girls don’t drink whiskey, you know.

I tend to be the odd girl out in a lot of conversations and a lot of movie nights too. I’m a sci-fi and girl-with-gun writer, so in everything I write, at least one car tends to explode.  My Google history is full of searches like  ‘places to hide a gun in a car’ or ‘biological warfare in the future’ and ‘fuel types for long-term space travel’.  It also means that I’m usually the only girl in our group of friends who will happily go see Star Trek Into Darkness.  Hell, I’m usually the one buying tickets and getting the group together.  I write alien stories and time travel stories and futuristic tech stories.  These are my people! These are my kind of stories!

But those are usually considered ‘guy movies’. 

I absolutely love surprising people.  I walk into meetings in my girly high heels and get into deep discussions about the repercussions of time travel and why my characters tend to work for MI-6 with a gun strapped to their leg. I can’t count the number of times new friends have read something of mine for the first time and come back with:  “This is totally awesome!  And it’s sci-fi!  I had you pegged as a rom-com girl.” 

FYI: high heels does not equal rom-com writer. 

I started putting a red streak in my hair and got my nose pierced because when I walk into a room I want people to think “sci-fi girl” not “Oh, she must be lost…”  (And also because — fire engine red hair and a nose ring??? I love it!)   And you know what?  I’m me.  I’m always going to be me with my deeply held love of Doctor Who and cocktail dresses.  I am a whiskey girl who’s going to cook you a fancy dinner with Mozart and Frank Sinatra playing in the background, then curl up and watch Alien.  I subscribe to Fast Company and Wired and Real Simple and Relevant. io9 and the gallery of the Hubble Space Telescope and joythebaker.com are my go-to web browsing every day. My daily workout is ballet-based and killer.

I find my inspiration everywhere. 

I fit in a strange space. I think we all do, in one way or another… the trick is to own it and not be afraid of it.  I’m going to fit in places no one else will — and if I spent all my time worrying about trying to be someone else, I’m probably going to miss the places I’m actually meant to be. 

My name is Lynn, and I am a sci-fi & girl-with-gun writer. Hear me roar!

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