We Are the Light(77)
Lucas finds his calling as a school counselor for teenagers. Have you ever worked with young people? What do you think teens like Eli need from the adults around them?
From the fall of 1996 to the summer of 2004, I worked with teenagers. I taught, coached, counseled, chaperoned, and spent the majority of my time around young adults. One of my undergraduate professors once told me that what children need most from adults is proof that one can make it to adulthood and be okay. At the time, I took “okay” to mean adult life could be enjoyable and honorable and purposeful—that you didn’t have to be miserable or abusive or settle for something you never really wanted. The deeper I go into my Jungian work, the more I believe that “okay” means remaining whole in adulthood without splitting off essential parts of one’s identity. Or if those parts have gotten temporarily split off by life’s hard knocks, we can show young people that it’s possible to reclaim those split-off parts and become whole again, albeit through difficult inner work. And when you talk honestly and sincerely to teens about this possibility—becoming who they were always meant to be—their eyes almost always light up.
How long did it take to write We Are the Light?
Like I wrote above, I had the basic idea in 2014 and—for seven years—had been trying to write my way into a voice and an opening. But—again, after years of my subconscious working on it—the first draft of what became this novel was written in under a month. I got pretty obsessed and was working seven days a week and writing for eight to twelve hours a day. My wife and I edited additional drafts together for a few more weeks. And then my editor, Jofie Ferrari-Adler, provided many valuable insights and really helped me polish.
The monster movie screenplay that Eli and Lucas write is an extremely personal piece of art. Was writing We Are the Light a similarly personal experience for you?
Yes. Although, the novel is in no way meant to be autobiographical. I never experienced a tragedy in a movie house. Lucas Goodgame doesn’t struggle with alcohol abuse. But we both have bonded pretty intensely with our Jungian analysts. We both have relied on the therapeutic value of art and story. We both have had places deep inside of ourselves shatter. And we’ve both benefited from the healing properties of friendships. I’ve also written screenplays, although never a monster movie.
What is the most interesting research you did for the book?
My parents have a home in Ambler, PA. Whenever I’d visit, I’d go to the historic Ambler Theater with my dad and try to dream up the plot for my movie theater novel. Even though the theater in We Are the Light—the Majestic Theater—is fiction, I had the general look of the Ambler Theater in mind when I wrote the book. I’m in a two-man movie club. The other man is my buddy, Kent, who has made horror films in and around south Jersey and loves monster movies. Kent gave me a list of old monster films to watch, all of which I found interesting and great fun. I particularly dug Jacques Tourneur’s Cat People and The Leopard Man. Again, my deep dive into all things Carl Jung would take the prize for most interesting.
Was there a scene in the book that surprised you as you were writing it?
In chapter 17, during an evening rainstorm, a soaked-to-the-bone Tony shows up at Lucas’s home and then begins to emotionally unburden himself on the couch. We learn that the Majestic Theater tragedy created a rift between Tony and Mark, but the film project and working with Eli allows Tony to believe in his community again, which in turn helps him reconnect with his partner too. It’s a tender and vulnerable moment. When I had the impulse for a rain-soaked Tony knocking on Lucas’s door, I didn’t know what Tony was going to say once Lucas let him in. So that surprised me.
We Are the Light plays homage to cinematic magic as well as the real behind-the-scenes work of moviemaking. What did you want to capture about the moviegoing experience? Have you ever been behind the camera in real life?
I’ve never been behind a movie camera. I spent a day on the The Silver Linings Playbook movie set. And I’ve worked with directors and actors and producers on several screenplays. But the book was more informed by the many hours I’ve spent in dark movie houses gazing up at the great beam of light dancing on the screen. In the first half of my life, whenever I was feeling depressed or anxious, I almost always did one of two things (when I wasn’t writing): drink alcohol or go to the movies. While drinking almost always led to a worse state of mind, the cinema often buoyed me through rough spells in a way that was positive and constructive. It’s where I went to dream, to cheer, to cry and laugh, to study the human condition, and to learn about storytelling—how you do it and why. The best movies activate something deep within us and help us get in touch with our feelings. We often call it being moved, but I think it’s so much more than that. Maybe it’s being reconnected with what makes us feel most alive—the transcendent spark within all of us. The moviegoing experience—when the film is good—lifts us above the everyday grind. It can remind us of what’s possible. It can encourage us to be our best selves.
Do you have any unwritten ideas about how Lucas, Jill, Eli, and the other townspeople of Majestic lead their lives after the story ends?
I think the Majestic Theater has been sanctified once again by the end of the novel and that everyone will continue to have cinematic experiences, despite the tragedy. And that’s the metaphor, right? There is real evil in the world and it wants to rob us of the good. But if we look with the right eyes, we will see that there is always more good than evil, which is primarily the reason why such things as love and friendship and community are even possible at all. I think Lucas and Jill will take care of each other, just as Darcy would have wanted it. And I think Eli will continue to untether himself from the post-tragedy womb that Lucas and the town of Majestic create for him. Eli will go out into the world and have his life’s adventure, leaving boyhood behind and becoming a man. And when he’s far enough along on his journey—when his adult identity is established—he will return in some way to Lucas and Jill and Tony and Mark and the town of Majestic. They’ll be waiting with open arms, ready and willing to celebrate the first-half-of-life completion of his wondrous maturation process.