I grew up as part of the first generation of families that owned a VCR. Granted, my father purchased our first Betamax perhaps two years after they were considered “affordable”, but to me, at the tender age of ten, it was quite possibly the greatest invention since color television. But my journey to becoming a screenwriter started much earlier.

My father, who I had the privilege of knowing from birth until August 2012, would take me to the movies at least once a week. I can remember being mesmerized by a donkey that kicked field goals, an underdog boxer who simply wanted to go the distance and, of course, the adventure of a young mechanic from a galaxy far, far away who took on an entire evil empire. When the pay cable service Showtime became available in our rural town for only an extra five bucks a month, Dad signed us up. I vividly recall “A Clockwork Orange”, “Animal House” and perhaps the one film that changed my life, “The Deer Hunter”, playing constantly on our little television.

That clunky, oversized Betamax allowed me to record these movies, and dozens more, every month, providing the opportunity to watch these films over and over again. I realize now this was my own version of attending film school, where Kubrick, Scorsese and Spielberg were my own personal instructors.

In college, I accepted a position at the local theater as an usher. The meager pay did help earn me a meal or two, but better than the money I could watch first-run movies for free! As I worked towards my dual degree in English and Humanities, with no clue as to what I would do post-graduation, I considered a career in the movie theater business. In 1992 I became a manager with a small theater company, eventually working my way up to Senior Vice President of Destinta Theatres, a multi-state megaplex circuit….until ownership sold to a competitor in 2012. What would the future hold now?

Please let me backtrack, but just by a year. As I watched David Seidler win the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay I had what I can only describe as a life-changing moment. Here was a man, who, at the age of seventy-four, was accepting an award for writing. I had just turned forty-one, worked to achieve an English degree that I had never truly utilized and, perhaps most importantly, had a lifelong knowledge of film. I understood what type of film sells out theaters on a Saturday night, what makes a movie “good” as well as the fact that there is a special ingredient, very hard to identify, that encourages repeat business. But, even more important than everything that had guided me up to this point, I had a burning desire to create a compelling story.

I spent the next year reading everything I could find regarding the craft of screenwriting: Syd Field, Robert McKee, Blake Snyder, Stephen King—by the way, “On Writing” should be mandatory reading for anyone who intends to sit in front of a computer. Finally, I was ready to write. And I did. A lot. My first feature “Condition of Return”, a psychological horror story that was really a thinly veiled commentary on organized religion, was well-received, winning or placing in a variety of competitions including two positive reads from the Nichols Fellowship. Not bad for a newbie. I learned quickly, however, that one script does not a screenwriter make.

While other husbands and fathers were out playing golf or coaching soccer, I was writing. And I loved every minute of it. Each screenplay I crafted continued to win or place in festivals and competitions. My writing even gained some interest from some small production companies. I decided to apply to Point Park University in Pittsburgh to earn my MFA with the understanding that if I were to earn a career as a screenwriter I would truly benefit from pursuing my graduate degree. From that point to now I’ve never looked back.

Cancer ate away at my father. Nearly every organ infected. But he told me just a week before he died that he was proud of me. Not just for my success in business, or being a good husband and better father, but because I had the balls to chase my dream. I wasn’t afraid to do what I had always known deep down I wanted to do. I want to write. It’s not about becoming rich or famous—it’s about doing what you love because you simply are driven to do so.

– John Spare