Joe Whyte and friend
Joe Whyte and friend

Our gratitude to today’s blogger, Joe Whyte, an actor, digital artist, and writer living in Valencia, CA. With 16 years at Walt Disney Animation Studios as a 3D Modeler and voiceover talent, his credits include Disney’s Tarzan, Treasure Planet, Home on the Range, Chicken Little, The Emperor’s New Groove, Bolt, Meet the Robinsons, The Frog Princess, Tangled, and several shorts and tv specials. Joe’s acting credits include The Drew Carey Show, Sports Night, NewsRadio, Miss Match, Rodney, and many video games and radio spots.

So, my wife and I just got home from seeing Elysium at the local IMAX theater. Quite an assault on the senses, in a good way. Big visuals, very big sound, and a big important story. A story which I was able to separate into very specific beats, which fell into very particular slots of time over the course of the +/- 2 hour running time. Was it perfect? No. Plot holes the size of, well, an orbiting space station. But that’s not the structure’s fault. Was it fun? You betcha.

The morning that Blake passed away he and I were texting back and forth about his new iPhone app. I was going to be one of the beta-testers. I didn’t hear from him for a few hours and I figured he was busy. Blake was always busy. But Blake always found a way to be there when you needed him.

So, I went about my work at Disney Animation, figuring I’d talk to him later.

Anne Lower called me a few hours later. Blake was gone. Just, gone.

I felt like I’d had the carpet pulled out from under me.

I had found my mentor. And I had made a friend. And he was gone.

It is one thing to lose someone after a protracted illness, and quite another to lose them suddenly. The shock is much greater. Blake’s passing was a goddamn huge shock to all of us.

I met Blake through a rather random set of circumstances. I was running a little writer’s group at Disney and reading Syd Field’s books. Someone passed by and saw Syd’s books on my desk and asked if I’d read Save the Cat!  “No,” I replied. “What the heck is that?” And they proceeded to introduce me to the Cult of Cat, as I called it back then. Simply EVERYbody on the 3rd floor, which was where the Story guys lived, was raving about it. So I read it. And lightbulbs went off all over the place.

I had found something that really spoke to me in a language I could understand. I think that was Blake’s biggest gift. He said things that, yes, it could be argued have been said before, but he had that enthusiastic, logical, smiling, confident way of putting the pieces together and showing how the puzzle works that made it all seem so simple. I devoured the first Cat! book, and was determined to learn as much as I could from this extremely intelligent gentleman.

I put a call into Blake’s office inquiring about his seminars and asking if he would do a private session for our little group at Disney. He readily agreed and was as thrilled to come to us — amateurs though we were — as we were to have him in. Those first sessions were amazing and really brought home the info from his books. I was hooked.

As time went by I attended his classes several times, always trying to get more understanding of structure under my belt, and trying to break new stories. He was always enthused about my ideas and I always drove away after class thinking “How does he do it? How does he make it all seem so simple?” He would be able to take any idea and find the viable spin on it. He would make tiny suggestions that would clear away the blockages. It was like magic.

Then I got a chance to see behind the curtain when Blake asked if I would record him for a series of downloadable audio files that he wanted to offer on his website. I have a mobile voice-over recording setup and I met with Blake and BJ Markel at Beyond Shelter, where Blake used to teach his local weekend seminars. Blake wanted to create “Save the Cat! in a nutshell” recordings that people who had no way to come to a live seminar could download. As we were recording the sessions, I got to see Blake’s process. I got to see him reasoning out what information came at certain times and why, and how he had come to discover his method of screenwriting. It was the kind of experience you cannot purchase. I still listen to those recordings often.

And I think of Blake nearly every day as I’m writing. I was very fortunate to be able to put together a slide show of Blake’s personal photos from his youth up to his success with his books for his memorial service. At the service, they handed out little badges with Blake’s picture on them. Mine hangs over my desk, and it’s a kind of touchstone for me when I work. His books — and that app! — are always there, too, and I look to them for inspiration and courage.

It’s kind of weird — I have all these false memories from the time I spent putting together that slide show. Wondering what it would have been like to be friends with him during all those years, like Tracey Jackson, and to have shared his wonderful sense of humor and formidable intellect. I only got to know him for a couple of years, but the impact he had on my life was more significant than any other teacher I’ve known.

But the good part — the best part — is that I get to keep a little bit of him alive through my writing every day. And I get to keep learning from him. And I know that it’s because of him that I can watch a movie like the one I saw today and know how they did it. Where the structure is. Why those moments happen when they do. And I can take that insight and inspiration home and write it on a piece of paper and make my own stories, which is all I’ve ever wanted to do. Thanks, Blake, for your never-ending gift.

Miss ya, buddy.

Did you have a conversation with Blake that you’d like to share? Please email [email protected].