Child's Play

Actually, I wish writing this last play had been that easy.  Instead, I made it a difficult, drawn-out ordeal.  

You see, last Monday I skipped both my jobs, and actually got to be a playwright for a day.  I went with Mandy and Matt Okin to meet a middle school drama class they teach at a private school in Englewood (yes, that part of Englewood).  I brought with me some lines from The Concert for them to read, as well as the beginning of a play--for which I sought their ideas and input.  I enjoyed the creativity in their improv scenes, and they impressed me in the brainstorming session we had to close out the class.  What before I could hardly imagine, I now was inspired to go write after actually meeting the students.

Now, for some reason, I complicate translating that creative energy into words.  It should be an easy transition, almost natural for me at this point.  But alas, I almost always manage to lose sight of the path before me--just sit down and write.  And I do try it, attempt to instill a disciplined working method, but all too often I succumb to procrastination and laziness.  And it's not necessarily a matter of time or distractions, no, I don't even make it that simple.  More often, it's just something in my head I refuse to get over, around, or through--until the threat of disappointment and failure get my ass in gear.  Regardless, just like legislation and hot dogs, you probably don't want to be privy to the grimy details of "the process."  That's why I should just leave these posts as that: the final product.

Channel Surfing

Saltlick: the Sequel

Yes, it's time for another installment of everyone's favorite small town of the stage.  But this time around there's pie and, for some reason, a robot.  Trust me, it all makes sense when you read it.









 Saltlick and the Robot

Another Play? Egad! How prolific.

Actually this is not a complete play, but rather three scenes.  While the scenes are in order, they follow an absent first scene.  That scene I wrote while in college—in my pre-playwright days—just as an exercise to a) write more and b) inject my descriptive and static writing with action and dialogue.  And this scene remains in a notebook buried in my basement at home.   

In that scene, a guy named Bort finds his friend Alec laying on his floor suffering from a writing-related mind-freeze.  They talk it over a bit (Alec revealing that he’s trying to write a novella, specifically—hence the working title), and in the end Bort drags him out to face the real world.  And as you’ll see, what he meant by that was hitting up a local dive bar.  Ages, place, time … I’m keeping these details a little vague at the moment.  Oh, what the hell: mid-20s, New York (not Manhattan), and the present.  Very present.  Like yesterday.  Enjoy, bitches!

The Novellist

So, it looks like I'm a playwright

And what I mean by that is, I've gone pro.  That's correct--I can no longer compete in the playwright games.  I've been commissioned by Black Box Studios to write two plays for two classes of special needs adults at a Jewish day center in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn.

A little more backstory, for y'all.  Mandy (my aunt/roommate/drama guru) teaches theater classes throughout the bi-state area.  Matt Okin (her boss/collaborator/friend) runs said classes through Black Box.  And during a trip down south to MD together with them, Matt asked me if I would be interested in writing a play or two for some of the classes they taught.  Apparently, there's a lot of crap out there--and he and Mandy were fed up with wading knee-deep through it in search of a script to produce.  It just made more sense for me to write something good and new for them. And thus, I had a project. 

A few weeks ago, Mandy could not attend her class in Sheepshead Bay, so I went in her place as a theater teacher.  I’ll admit, I was a bit nervous since I hadn’t much contact with special needs adults or experience teaching theater.  But it turned out to be quite an enlightening experience.  With Giselle (whom you may have seen star in last summer’s hipster romantic-comedy, The Concert, written by a brilliant young (and single) playwright based in New Jersey) leading us through impov exercises, parts of the stage, and script reading we all came through and learned a lot. And so it then fell to me to take my observations and the brainstorm of suggestions from my new friends, and write a couple plays.

Pressed against the deadline last week, I came up with a concept encompassing an ensemble cast and a wacky plot: the town of Saltlick, Nevada and various issues they encounter.  I took in two pages of two scenes, and ran them with each class.  The response from students and teachers was positive, so I moved ahead to finish them.  And now I present for your reading pleasure:

 

Saltlick and the Twister









 
(The second play, Saltlick and the Robot, will follow shortly.)

Two pages? That's it?

Yes, it has been weeks since I started this blog, and the only original material I've managed to compose is this two-page scene. Is it a play?  Maybe.  Is it idiotic?  Certainly. For now, just deal until I hit my stride, okay?

And now, I present:


Baby Einstein

(Remember, click on it then download)

Worst blog ever?

Worst blog ever.

PLAY #1: "The Perfect Craft -or- The True Meaning of Advent -or- Waiting for Adam"

Actually, I wrote it the week before X-mas, so it's technically the last play of 2009.  But I needed something to hold over you ravenous readers, until I can give you something fresh to chew on.  And I'm pretty sure you're all just reading to watch me fail.




The Perfect Craft

(How this is going to work: click on the link, which will take you to my Adobe Acrobat account.  You cannot preview the document, but the site will prompt you to download the PDF so it can be read--but not copied, printed, or commented upon.  This is my intellectual property, and I am very protective of it, no matter how inane, absurd, or outright ridiculous it may be.  Thank you for cooperating and respecting the integrity of my work.  Should any difficulties arise with this process, please notify me.)