A Storyboard Life is an inspiring memoir about creativity, resilience, and discovering that life’s greatest opportunities often arrive disguised as setbacks. Why did you choose to tell your memoir through eighty-three “story frames” instead of a traditional chronological narrative?

The idea of storyboarding the book’s narrative appealed to me, especially given my background in film. 

Each frame can stand on its own as a short story but they are still connected by the throughline one of my adventures in creativity and resilience.

The storyboard format also makes the book idea for travel, vacations, airplanes, waiting rooms––anywhere you might want to fill some time with something distracting, entertaining, and even at times, transporting.

Your career seems built on curiosity as much as planning. How important has following instinct been throughout your professional life?

Instinct is everything to me. Looking for opportunities that make sense, looking for the open door, looking for hints and suggestions, being open to whim, while trying not to take stupid or dumb risks. Instinct is honing that fine difference, then acting upon it.

Readers get wonderful glimpses behind the scenes of documentary production.

What do you wish more people understood about the work that happens before audiences ever see the finished film?

It’s not glamorous and it doesn’t pay well.

It’s hard, and often tedious, frustrating, annoying, and sometimes even dangerous.

Each film usually represents years of fundraising, concept-vetting, storyline development, experts wrangling, location management, gear maintenance, traveling with a lot of sensitive baggage, talent availability, crew cooperation, and so many other tedious tasks. But viewers shouldn’t see any of that in the finished film. 

What they should see (and what enables you to deal with and get through all the above) is the love of telling a good or an important story.

Personally, what I love most about documentary film production––apart from the finished film––is that it’s a team sport. 

From writing and funding, to locations, to storyboarding, to shooting, to music to editing, and then marketing, it’s rare that every aspect of a film is created by just one individual. And to me, that’s a good thing. I’m still friends with people I worked on location with twenty-five years ago!

Many readers struggle when life doesn’t follow their original plans. What do you hope they take away from your story?

In my experience, life rarely follows your plans. And each time it doesn’t, that might just be a great time (to quote the Stoics) to pause and ponder how the obstacle might be helping you, might actually be offering you an opportunity to look for a better way forward.

For example, had I not been fired from my job––three times!–– I would not have had an amazing three-decade career working with hundreds of films. 

I was dumped by my producer/financée just days after we bought a house together. It was a shock at the time to lose him, our house, and my job all at once.

Looking back, I am beyond relieved I am not still with him. Just as I can no longer imagine living with him, I also can’t imagine not having the life I’ve had instead.

Closed doors are just an opportunity to look around and see what other doors might be open, or at least not locked.

Call it God or the universe having plans for you if that helps, it doesn’t matter which. The important thing is training/disciplining yourself not to fall apart, but instead take a pause and see what other opportunities might be even better or more interesting for you. 

They may not appear right away, but they’re there.

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