“I didn’t know stuffed animals could have so many needs.”
“They’re very particular,” I agree. “Especially if you’re going to put them in front of the camera.”
After years of hard work developing my craft, I landed a job at Twice Live Motions, the premier studio specializing in stop motion animation in the Midwest. Day to day, I handle the grunt work, like sculpting tiny props and painstakingly arranging figures for the camera or gluing together strange backgrounds that the team wiggles and manipulates for special effects.
Last month, though, my dreams came true when I won an emerging animator fellowship. Not only has the studio granted me access to a dedicated workspace and a ten-grand budget for production costs, I’ve also been given five minutes to show an original creation at an upcoming animation festival.
I squint at the set that’s half constructed on the table. The short film follows a tiny, fluffy purse dog who falls in love with an alley cat. Most of the scenes take place at dog level. For the opening, I’ve built a purse that can hold the dog and swing from side to side while the rest of the action occurs around it.
“Does this purse look right?” I ask Ayla. “Is this the kind of purse you’d want to be riding in when you fall in love?”
“Even if it’s not, you better not change it now,” she answers, still sewing. “It’s only been three weeks, but I think you’ve already used up your second-guessing time.”
“Stop motion is always time-intensive. And you know I’m picky about my work.”
“You’re not usuallythisfussy, though,” she points out. “I thought you were slowed down by grieving Mixie, but you haven’t really snapped out of it.”
I shoot her a big smile. “That’s why I’m recruiting my dear friend to help.”
She waggles the needle at me. “How many more dog jackets do I have to finish before you take me out for pancakes like you promised?”
“Just one,” I answer brightly. “I’m hungry, too.”
“Maybe you need something to motivate you. Some extra inspiration.”
I gesture around the studio. The place is a disorganized mess of fabric bits, intricate tools, tiny props, and clay. “What more inspiration do I need? This is practically paradise.”
“That’s the problem. You’re a good worker when you’re part of a team, but you never finish your own projects, Matty.”
I chew my lip. She’s definitely right. When I have something I have to make, someone else’s vision, I can stay focused. But when it’s my own work, I get a new idea, and then another new idea, and soon enough, I’m onto a whole different project.
“You think I might mess up my big break?”
“You get caught up in your imagination sometimes. I don’t want to see you lose the opportunity to show at such a big venue.”
“Not to mention, if I don’t deliver the product, I’m going to have to pay the fellowship back that ten grand. You would think all that pressure would be enough to motivate me.”
“Aha!” Ayla points her needle at me again. “You admit it. You’re not focused.”
“Well, of course not,” I laugh. “I’m a stop motion animator! Getting lost in daydreams is part of the job!”
“And every other aspect of your life. I swear, you’re happier pining after Milo and dreaming about your fabulous second chance romance to come than you were when you two actually dated.”
I frown. “Sometimes, I regret telling you everything.”
It’s true. In pretty much every part of my life, I prefer the daydream and the silly, escapist fantasy to reality. I like getting lost for endless hours in making a painfully intricate stop motion film, and I burrow so deeply into my geeky friend group, it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
After growing up bullied and outcast, I’d already had my fill of the real world, thank you very much.
With stop motion, I get to create a new reality, one that’s as magical and weird as I want it to be.
And sure, with Milo, there is something comfortable about pining. I’m not risking another heartbreak so long as he doesn’t know I’m torturously in love with him. Everybody wins!
Kind of.
“What’s the plan, then?” I ask Ayla.
“Try switching it up a little, see if you can jostle something loose. Like, what about that guy who gave you his card in the park?”
