I'm a member of a certain species of human being that you can actually find scattered throughout the world (probably in some very unexpected places) but whose population seems to be most densely concentrated in one place: Southern California. That species is the aspiring screenwriter.

Though we number in the millions, only a handful of us are lucky enough to transform from our aspirational chrysalis state into that rare and most coveted of creatures: the working screenwriter. Until then, however, we remain…well…pupal…living, dreaming, hoping…and writing.

Of course, screenwriters aren't the only ones who endure a pupal stage before emerging with gloriously colored wings into the life they've always dreamed of. Entrepreneurs, musicians, novelists, fashion designers, politicians, doctors, lawyers, engineers, renters(!)—they all go through that period of feeling like unformed butterflies, working diligently toward the Grand Metamorphosis: the realization of their dream, their vision, their Life with a capital L. Maybe you're one of these people.

Some make that Grand Metamorphosis. Sadly, many don't. Take screenwriting, for example. Among the millions of people writing screenplays, there are hundreds of thousands who never actually finish their scripts. Among those who finish are thousands who refuse to submit their scripts to agents, producers, etc., for fear of rejection. Among those whose scripts are read by agents, producers, etc., only a handful are kicked up to a level high enough for serious consideration. Among those, only a handful of scripts are actually bought, and among those, only a handful gets the financing to be made into movies. Some of these are lucky enough to be released theatrically but many just go straight to DVD.

No one ever said becoming a butterfly was easy.

But while the butterflies of the world may indeed be the luckiest people (or, at least, they can seem that way), I believe the second luckiest people are those who aspire to be butterflies—those who have a dream and are actively and passionately pursuing it, whatever that dream may be. At any given moment of any given day, I can imagine myself being a working screenwriter, or a filmmaker, or a novelist. My dream feels vividly within my reach. What I cannot imagine—what I can never imagine—is not wanting to be these things. As long as the dream is alive, so is the possibility. But every time a dream dies, so dies a butterfly.

So if you have a dream, don't be a butterfly killer. For Nature's sake if not your own, keep your dream alive!

Now… A word of advice.

Until our Grand Metamorphosis occurs, we have to deal with living in our chrysalis state. That can sometimes be very difficult. It's hard trying to balance our hopes of becoming butterflies with our impatience that we're not there yet, and our fears that we may never get there. But here's a word of advice from someone who after many many years has yet to make the transformation: Enjoy being a pupa.

It's easy to be so focused about achieving our dreams that we forget to live our lives. Even worse is the feeling that you won't be truly happy until you've accomplished whatever it is you've set out to do, that your life is somehow less valid because you haven't realized your vision. When I was in my 20s, everything was about the Dream. I worked on it constantly and intensely, and I was very unhappy. Now, many years later, though my Dream has yet to be realized, I've never felt more fulfilled. It took a lot for me to get there but the main thing was understanding that the life before the Dream is still a life, and that having a dream and pursuing it should make your life more fulfilling, not less.

So pursue your dreams, but also enjoy time with your friends and family. Go to concerts and movies and sporting events. Travel. Read. Take guiltless naps. Sit in a coffeehouse for an hour and watch the people around you while you sip your favorite beverage. Have fun with life.

If you can do all that (and you can), then you'll be something even better than a butterfly. You'll be happy.

- Johnny Cho, writer and web developer living in Los Angeles