In Development
Pictured: Kate In Development, a photo series. Me as a baby, 1991.
Pictured: Me in a staged Christmas photo at Hudson’s, circa 1993.
Last week, I spent 23.5 hours working on my production company. (Yup, just casually announcing that here and not saying a damn word more until there’s more to say.) It was unpaid (obviously), but it was exciting. I drafted contract templates, bought a domain, refined the business plan, did market research, designed a logo, built out workflows, and wrote some brand-voice copy.
What became clear, in those 23.5 hours, was how unclear everything actually was. Once out of my head and onto the page, the ideas fell apart. Disjointed sentences mirrored half-baked, contradictory thoughts. The numbers didn’t add up. The timeline was off. What felt right one day felt completely wrong the next. But in the chaos of everything I didn’t want the company to be, a pathway emerged: one that clarified not just the vision, but the next steps.
The yogis call it neti, or the path of negation. In meditation, when you sit with your thoughts and emotions in observation, you start to recognize the narratives we live by and how they shape our actions. Like a lotus unfolding, neti reveals the Self (capital “S”) beneath the many petals of small self (lowercase “s”). The journey to Self isn’t additive; it’s subtractive. You reach it by shedding what you are not.
Pictured: Me (and my sister) at Cedar Point, 1997.
Pictured: Me in fifth grade, 2001.
I remember standing in front of my first-year class at Stella Adler. One of the inner studios – no windows, black folding chairs, scuffed wood floor, four white walls, a door, and the many eyes of my peers. The class was Adler Technique, and the exercise was simple: describe your dream New York apartment. Paula, our statuesque teacher with a rich voice and even richer presence, leaned forward in her seat.
“Now, Kate, what does your apartment look like, smell like? Make me feel it.”
I tried to picture a penthouse overlooking the river.
“Uhh…well, there’s a couch right here. And then the kitchen has a center island.”
“Yes, yes,” Paula urged, leaning in. “But see it first. Breathe in the space.”
I closed my eyes. What had Paula said in her technique lecture? If you can see it – so can the audience. I opened my eyes and began.
Years later – another late, great mentor – Jon Menick – preached that you have to read a script until you can see the movie in your mind. Paula and Jon were saying the same thing: to bring something to life, it has to be alive to you first. Tune out the distractions, move beyond your preconceptions, let go of the rationalism (for now), and let imagination lead.
Pictured: Me on my senior trip, 2009.
Pictured: Me (with short hair!) at an archery range, 2017.
In the creative world, neti pairs with imagination to shape the essential stage of development. To be in development—on a project, a movie, a business—demands focus, yes. But more than that, it demands untangling.
I’ve been musing on this fabulous podcast with indie-film horror legend M. Night Shyamalan. He tells the story of self-financing a film (second mortgage on the house) and panicking mid-post-production about selling it. At 65% done, he reached out to buyers. No takers. Anxiety-ridden and seeking distraction, he sat down at his kitchen table to do a jigsaw puzzle with his daughter. One piece was missing. Hours passed searching. And in that futile, obsessive search, he had an epiphany: in rushing to sell the film, he’d lost his vision of it. He lost his place in the process. So he went back to work. Six months later, it sold.
Pictured: The development continues. Me in Puerto Rico, 2023.
When we dream big, it’s easy to fixate on the end result. And that’s fine, to an extent; it helps us chart a course. But if we’re always looking ahead, we miss where we actually are. Product comes with process and process is not always clear. In fact, the process is the path to clarity. And that takes the time it takes.
And that’s actually the inspiration behind the name of my future production company. Back at Adler, during an end-of-semester evaluation, my scene study teacher offered a line that still reverberates. Compliment and criticism. Boon and warning. A caution to watch getting swept up in future gazing. A gentle reminder to stay present. Stay in practice. Stay in development:
Don’t be an Epiphany Junkie.
So that’s what I’m calling it.