I'm Not Dead... Yet! (51 page)

and at the same time to despise its crankiness;

the city’s filth and irritability. New York City has a personality: the only way to describe its characterizations is to say that the city is schizophrenic. I ‘got it.’ Zephyr was approaching 15 years old. Karla and I only had him for three more years… We recognize the value of urgency.

The answer to this dilemma was easy (it had complex consequences, but the right answer was easy). We would leave New York City and NYU and move back home to the farm.

This would be the bes
t thing
for our family,
and Karla and I
always
did what was best for our family, or at least we always
tried
to do what was/is best for our family. (As long as each decision begins with that premise, we know we are bound to make good decisions.)

Karla and I immediately informed Lamar so he could find a replacement and not be left looking foolish since he was championing me to be the new head of the television department. I would finish my year, but we would move back to our home. Lamar understood the mind of a teenager. And he had a daughter close to Zephyr’s age.

We packed up and moved out of New York and headed back to our farm.

On August 28, 2007 my novel,
Who Stole The Funny?
,
was published by HarperCollins. When it made the bestsellers’ list of the
Los Angeles Times,
I received a congratulatory call from Maureen O’Brien, my editor and great supporter.
She told me, “No matter what, from this day forward you will always have the title of ‘best selling author.’”

I guess to the publishing industry, that platitude meant prestige and money. I don’t think I will ever be a true capitalist. I only want what is fair. And I want it for everyone. I despise greed, yet I have been its willing accomplice.

My favorite
Who Stole The Funny
review was in
The Wall Street Journal
. It was not an all-out rave, but the reviewer understood the book, what I was trying to accomplish, and knew my weaknesses as a novelist. Her critique has helped me be a better, wiser writer.

“
Who Stole The Funny?
benefits from Mr. Benson’s deep knowledge of his subject matter both the shallow snake pit of TV comedy and the angst of a perfectionist director… Mr. Benson labors overtime—and succeeds—in making us care… I can see the novel joining college reading lists and not only in Mr. Benson’s film classes. There are plenty of books on acting and directing, on semiotics, auteur theory and Stanislavsky’s method. But not many are likely to present so many appalling and reality based teachable moments.”

—Barbara D. Phillips,
The Wall Street Journal

Whenever I sat down alone in a room with a blank piece of paper, it was never about the money, just the satisfaction of expressing myself creatively. The icing on the cake is being able to share it in a form that reaches people.

I once told Karla, “Why be one of thousands protesting something you feel passionate about as an individual, when you can create something as an artist that reaches millions?”

Similar to the impact of my incorrectly sewn on pulmonary valve being the intense catalyst for writing my musical
Open Heart,
I had something to say when I sat down to write
Who Stole the Funny?
I spent over 10 years directing television and finally an incident in 2004 began the marination process that culminated in the release of my first novel. Beginning, middle, end. If nothing else, as an artist I do know how to finish.

I started to see that I was getting tired more easily… not a good sign. New beds, new strip malls, new jobs, new hours, new environments… Many, myself included, just chalked it up to age. I was getting older. Everything that happens to me doesn’t have to be blamed on a deficiency in my heart.

It was life… pure and simple: I began feeling my age. (Mentally was another story; mentally I felt like I was 25; that didn’t go over well with my body.)

I was called by my old friend
Larry Mortoff who was producing a feature film in Nashville, Tennessee. He told me two other directors had been fired and the film was in the last weeks of casting and preproduction. “Please come to Nashville and do me a great favor,” to direct
Billy: The Early Years
—
the story of the young Billy Graham becoming an evangelist.