An Excerpt from My Life Story

My name is Jackie and this is an excerpt from my life story. This excerpt is actually quite an important one, because it is the day I found my calling but not without tragic consequences.

I grew up as one of nine children in Southern California. At a tender age I knew I wanted to tell stories for a living. How and in what manner? Well, that is where my story begins. It all started with my father’s old video camera. My father was a hard workingman of the law who valued his electronic doodads to the point that all of us children were strictly forbidden the use of his electronic toys. Unquenchable curiosity and slight madness drove me to disobey my father’s iron law. My hands trembled as I pulled the prized video camera from its pristine shiny black case. There it was in my hands. I could feel the power of filmmakers and storytellers all bound up in this mechanized contraption. I pressed the little red power button and could feel the camera come to life in my hands. By this point the trembling in my hands was not from the fear of disobedience, but rather from the excitement and thrill of being on the precipice of something ground breaking- Filmmaking!

Or so that is what I thought at 14. I immediately went to work with the camera leaving behind its black camera case splayed out looking not so pristine anymore and rather indignant of the missing camera. I was all over the place with that camera- filming my sisters, filming the dogs, filming reenactments of other films. If heaven consisted of film cameras albeit a stolen camera then I was in it! After the initial excitement of point and shooting the film, I started to feel the artsy-fartsy itch. I then used the old radio flyer wagon out back to make rolling shots. The fact that it was being shot at knee length didn’t matter to me. I would later get fancy with a dining room table chair and roll the camera precariously along on the chair in the wagon. I would climb up in the tree house fort hanging dangerously over the side to get a good shot of those wild Chihuahua dogs in their all-natural habitat. I even tried to bring renewed life to the movie "Indian in the Cupboard" with fresh actors such as my sisters (and myself from time to time). I felt the accomplishment and hard work of being a director/ actor. It was a good day… Until I made the dangerous transition from bona fide filmmaker to international spy. Filmmaker/Director by day. Spy by night. That is when my day turned around.

By this time my father was home, and instead of calling it a day and putting away the camera thereby not getting caught (besides the fact that he would find later much of his camera tape used up). But I didn’t do that. No. The term “to be a fly on the wall” always intrigued me and I always wondered what that would be like. I just had to spy on my family. My brilliant plan consisted of precariously rigging up one of my father’s most prized possessions in the kitchen (because apparently that is where most of the action happened) on a most unstable roll of paper towels. Did I sniff markers as a child? No. What was I thinking then, right? I have no idea, but if I tried to make it in the spy world I would definitely be known as the least subtle especially least methodical spy out there. Not to even mention if I tried this stint as bona fide film maker I wouldn’t have a job. So there was the camera sitting on top of this unstable roll of paper towels catching all the kitchen action while I was sitting across the kitchen trying to act very normal so as to not turn my family on to what I was doing when someone slammed a kitchen drawer shut rather hard. Hard enough that from my position I watched in horror as the camera and the roll of paper towels swayed back and forth as if it was caught up in a major earthquake. An intense fear for my life struck me to my core as the camera fell as if in slow motion to the hard tiled floor with dead “clunk!”. All activity in the kitchen stopped and with all the courage I could muster I picked up the camera and owned the disaster. My short and glorious career as a film maker/ spy in the Hill house ended with the death of my father’s video camera. Needless to say I was in big trouble.

Even though my first run in with the camera was a tragic love story of epic proportions, my love for film could not be dowsed. I was just getting started. I went on to college and studied multimedia and dabbled in pre and postproduction. I am now graduated from college, and while I wait for my bigwig job, I am constantly working on my skills, honing my craft. And now, I sit here in front of my computer practicing my storytelling skills to my readers. Thank you for listening! ❧