As the school year starts and my sweet summer disappears, my head is a jangle of to-do lists.  School supplies and sports sign ups, homework folders and making travel plans for – WTF? – CHRISTMAS?  Monkey-mind, as the Buddhists say.  I cannot sit for two minutes without some task highjacking my frontal lobe.

But I don’t want to write about that.  I want to write about YOU.

Over the past eight weeks, while The Leftovers has been aired, I have been bathed in feedback from you.  I don’t know why this time it feels exactly so sweet.  Maybe because the show is so different, maybe because what I am asked to do in it makes me feel truly vulnerable for a variety of reasons, maybe because we created it in such isolation (winter woods) and darkness (constant night shoots) — to have our work be seen, in the warmth and light of your eyes, is like stepping into a party where a party is in full swing.

Not all of you like it – what would be the fun in that? – and many of you distinctly dislike my role, my beloved Laurie Garvey.  But whether you like it or not, the quality of the conversation is phenomenal.  Tom Perrotta’s book (and Damon Lindelof’s fantasia on it) provoke debates, dreams, and philosophical ramblings. They just do.  I know we Leftovers have been talking about it for a year.  So nice that you joined in.

So thank you.  For watching and thinking and contributing your voice to this process.  It is jet fuel as we enter our second season.

xo,
amy