Kneel at the shore of the man-made lake and dip your hands into the water. Say, This is what I’m talking about, people. Hold man-made lake water in the cup of your hands, an offering to them all. Pray that somebody, for the love of Christ, is getting this on film. Baptize yourself. Weep. Pray that somebody somewhere is recording some fucking piece of this. Reject the suspicion that you have nothing to do with your genius, at your very core, you are your genius. You know it and they know it. Look at them. They’re transfixed, captivated. They’re all of them waiting to be directed.

Bless them with man-made lake water. Bless them with Eskimo tears. Accept their gratitude, their supplication.

Order the second-unit director to hire a twelve-year-old Hindu boy to paint pictures on an easel just outside the frame of every shot. Train the black crow to sit on your shoulder.

Go so far over budget that no one will dare shut you down.

Tell anyone who will listen that both the actor and Star are contenders for year-end awards. For lifetime awards. For awards that will have to be invented.

Tell them to start preparing speeches.

Weave the gratitude of your own speeches into everyday conversation, overthanking everyone you interact with, even those who should be thanking you.

But temper expectations publicly.

Say to the press, We’re just trying to tell an honest story here. It’s all any of us can ever hope to do. Thank you so very much.

While on the set, always stand with hands in pockets, squinting, the black crow on your shoulder a symbol of something the actor, Star, and idiot could never hope to understand.

Embrace the Hindu boy frequently.

Eat cherries, spitting acidic juice into a handkerchief as if it were blood.

Make cinematic history.

<p><strong>Acknowledgments</strong></p>

THE AUTHOR WISHES TO THANK Antoinette Lopez, Sam Ligon, Deanna Monet, and Erika Goldman. Thanks, also, to the editors of the journals in which these stories first appeared:

“Welcome to Someplace Like Piscataway”

in The American Reader

“Now I Am Doubled Over,” “Why We’re Trapped In A Failed System,” and “Someone Great Like Socrates”

in New World Writing

“I Want To Kiss Myself, Good God”

in The Literarian

“Anytime, Sweet”

in Gigantic

“Family of Man on Isle of Wight”

in The Collagist

“The Problem with Green Bananas” and “A Regular Day for Real People”

in The Brooklyn Rail

“Guiding Eyes for the Blind Dog Training School”

in Indiana Review

“Goodnight Maybe Forever”

in Willow Springs

“Good People”

in Dossier Journal

“Essentials”

in Failbetter

“The Sky Was Everywhere Like Water”

in New York Tyrant

“A Cloud That Looks Like Jesus”

in Fanzine

“Big People Everywhere”

in The Literary Review

“How to Direct A Major Motion Picture”

in Puerto Del Sol

“Christine and Grace, Naturally”

in Hobart

“The Human Cost”

in Memorious

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