The Life and Times of Soobee

See ya, bye for a while

2008-06-10T09:07:00.002-11:00

I don't really have much to say on here anymore. I have decided to stop writing until my body heals and my head is back in the game. I did get a laptop (Dell), which will help me type, etc. at home (I couldn't use the desktop b/c it hurt my back too much,and how tired I am of saying that?!). I really wanted to get an Apple, but it was about twice as expensive and I couldn't justify it. I am considering an iPhone when the new ones come out next month, b/c they are down to $300 and my Nokia is pretty sad. Since I already have AT&T, it won't be that expensive, relatively speaking, and could be handy (GPS system, for example!). But we'll see. In the meantime, I knew it was time to take a total writing break when I got accepted into a festival in MD and I started crying! I wasn't unhappy about it, but it just said to me, look, you need to take a total break. The highs and lows were just too great, and if I couldn't even enjoy success (probably for eventual fear of failure), then there really wasn't any point, was there?

It's not like I'm happy to stop writing, it's that I feel it's necessary, and I've made peace with it. I got off the binge listserv I was on (I had stopped reading the posts, anyway), and I won't be attending any more writing meetings for a while. I'm not even enjoying going to the theatre anymore, partly b/c of my back (okay, a lot b/c of my back), and since ushering is really painful now, and I can't enjoy the show b/c of it, well, that's another thing I'll have to put to the side now. I feel like so much of my life is on hold now, and if it weren't for walking, I'd just give it all up. Fortunately, it's gotten warm (check that: hot as hell) in Boston, and since I'm not afraid of sticky weather, I'm plugging on. It's the only real exercise I can get (I don't have access to a pool), and it's healthy for the body and mind (it's always good to get fresh air, of course, and it can be meditative). I am actively meditating now; I'm at 20 minutes a day, which isn't much, but I'm planning to up it to 40 minutes (both parts of the CD I listen to), starting tonight, and I just keep trying to go as deeply as possible into the relaxation area where you just don't feel, you just focus on breath. It's completely healthy, and if it doesn't help my body physically heal, and I desperately hope it will, it will certainly have positive impact on me emotionally. A

side from that, and doing some reading in that area (and in general), watching the Red Sox, and blogging for So You Think You Can Dance (http://bloggingsytycd.blogspot.com/), which is just for fun and not to be competitive (and it's nice that readers enjoy my reviews; I enjoy writing them!!), my life is pretty dull right now. When I get well, I would love to take a dance class AND get back to writing, but I can't say when that will be, only that I am exploring EVERY option.

So that's it for now. I guess I won't blog again for a while unless something interesting happens (one can hope!). Read my musings on the So You Think You Can Dance website (coolest website ever), and I'll be back sometime soon.

I've got pretty much nothing positive to say

2008-04-27T03:36:00.003-11:00

Isn't that a great title? I would love to have something better to headline this, but honestly, I just don't. I got three rejections this week, including one from Asphalt Shorts in Canada, and it's getting really, really tired. I also can't type at my desk (though I am right now) without pain, and it's costing too much at the moment to buy a laptop (donations welcome ;-)), so I am confined to writing at work, which is not the most conducive atmosphere to write in, let's be honest. My back just throbs and throbs, and my latest deep tissue massage, $45 for a half hour, did not help ONE BIT. (Maybe it will in the future, but not yet, not even a little bit.) I have taken two classes as part of my 12-week session at the Mind/Body Clinic in Chestnut Hill, MA, and I would love to say that I have gotten some relief from it, but I have not. I know, two weeks is FAR TOO LITTLE TIME to reap results, so I will keep meditating (can't hurt, of course), though it's hard to lay on my back while my back just throbs, and sitting hurts, too. God, I am getting depressed just writing this!!! :( I can imagine how you feel reading this (if you still are!).

What do I enjoy at the moment (as there has to be SOMETHING, right?):

Watching American Idol (favorite singer is David Cook, by a mile, and I think he's going to make it to the finale);

Paying attention to the buds on the trees and flowers on the ground, b/c we are having spring in Boston this year, and it's a wonderful thing. It smells so nice, and it's wondrous to walk in the city on a nice, warm day. It hurts so much to hurt, but I just barge ahead, b/c if it's going to hurt anyway, I might as well get some exercise and make my heart and head feel better, in any case;

Listen to music, as always. I'm switching it up these days; I listen primarily to Mix 98.5, which means I got from Leona Lewis to Daughtry to Natasha Bedenfield (my current favorite) to Rhianna to Jack Johnson. It's nice to change it up. Just mellow music was getting boring to me. I prefer the djays on the River, but the music has left me wanting more. Maybe because I'm getting older I want to get more hip (45 now, kids; unbelievable but true), but I like to hang with younger friends, Anna (who also seems much younger than she is) excluded. My birthday was last week, and it was underwhelming, to say the least (though the surprise birthday at work was nice and very unexpected). My parents did their very best to make it nice for me, but my back hurt so much (driving to their house, then to my sister's in Western MA, back to their house, and then home) that it just took me out. I can't drive anymore with excessive pain, so I feel very trapped. My friends are going to NYC to see the Daily Show in June, but I can't imagine taking a 3 1/2 bus ride to NYC. Who knows in two months, right? I'm just not envisioning it.

Watching the Red Sox. Though they've lost four in a row, I'm so excited by Jed Lowrie, Clay Bucholz, and of course Jacoby Ellsbury, and Manny is tearing it up, that you can't help but get excited by being part of their run at a third World Series. I think it's unlikely--the pitching is decimated, and there are a lot of injuries--but it's so early in the season that you are glad the problems are taking place now (and they are still in first place) and hopefully not in July and August. I'm also reading LOOK ME IN THE EYE but John Robison, Augusten Burrough's brother, and it's fascinating (it's about Asperger's) and inspiring. We should all be so articulate.

So, um, that's about it for now. I cannot write creatively, b/c I am too depressed and it hurts too much mentally and physically and I couldn't be less motivated. (Oh, and getting continuous rejections, and I am, trust me, does not help my mood.)

IF you are reading this, and want to send some good vibes my way, I'd be very appreciative. I can't muster the strength right now.

Boston Theatre Marathon: sadness and resolve

2008-04-06T06:46:00.004-11:00

Well, it's easy to go from extreme happiness to extreme sadness in about a week, if you are me. The high of SWANDay has been replaced by the low of being rejected yet again from the Boston Theatre Marathon. Now, to be completely fair, they get about 400 entries, and solicit about 20 plays from writers like Israel Horowitz, Robert Brustein, Gary Garrison (who's a god in the theatre world), and others, so there aren't many spots for other lesser-known writers, and it's very competitive. In addition, Kate Snodgrass, an extremely nice (and gifted) writer/producer/director, writes something personal on every rejection note (I think; at least on the three I've received), so I'm not bitter by any means, just saddened. It's so prestigious, and it would be such an honor to be included. As I wrote to Kate (who kindly wrote back; she really does care), I don't see how I can get included in that I submitted my very best short piece, WEDNESDAYS, the one that was produced in NYC, San Antonio, and other locales, and it was still rejected. I guess I don't write the kind of work they want, or I just don't hit it right, and I know it's subjective (Kate said as much). But I can't seem to hit the big three: The Marathon, SLAMBoston, and the Dragonfly Festival (which wasn't held last year), and these are the ones that get a lot of attention. I have been produced locally, but these are the ones I really want to crack, and...so, no, it isn't happening.

Part of my sadness does have to do with last week's exhilaration. Having a play receive a positive reaction validated me and my work (I liked the piece, don't get me wrong, but it was thrilling to see it on stage and have such terrific feedback). The only other time that has happened is when WEDNESDAYS was produced by the Two Spoons Theatre Company last March, when everything came together: the actors, director, script. I just *knew* it was right, and that was the case with WAKE UP CALL. Having the chance to collaborate with Lau, Joey, and Robyn was awesome(I am dying to work with them again; I want this piece to get a full production, dammit), and then to get such encouraging feedback (and from a staged reading, not even a full production!) made me so very happy. It's like a drug: you crave more, and feel very empty without it. There are so few opportunities for work to be produced, unless you self-produce, which is bloody hard--I can't believe how wonderful SWANDay turned out, but Debbie nearly killed herself doing most of the work for it--and I can't put the time, energy, strength (the back is still in horrid shape, and I hope the acupuncture takes this time, b/c I am at wits end, I really am). In fact, I am at work writing this, b/c I can't sit at my computer anymore :-(.

So...that's where I am at. I received the letter from Kate, an encouraging one but a rejection letter nonetheless, after a day spend at acupuncture (not painful but expensive, damn you, back), then watching a new play reading at the Boston Center for the Arts, briefly volunteering for work at an exhibit next door, and having dinner with Debbie and her husband at a cafe across from the BCA. By the time I got home, I was tired (again, b/c of the back) and the letter was a sad surprise. I felt disappointed, and listened to James Morrison all night (b/c he is the only singer that I can listen to when I am at my lowest point), after I watched Step Up and Dance, a new reality dance program at Bravo. The good thing about the latter is that I saw these dancers who are so passionate about their craft, and I thought, Dammit, I can write (decently, at any rate), and so instead of bitching and moaning and crying, I should just start writing again!!! And longer pieces, as Edd and Debbie and Lau and others have encouraged. So: here I am, on a dreary Sunday, staring work on a new play (after I finish this post, obviously). Maybe it's a good sign that James Morrison is now playing on Pandora Radio. So off I go to write, and we'll see. All that can happen is that I get nothing substantive accomplished; if I don't write, I get nothing in return.

WAKE UP CALL: happy, happy, joy, joy

2008-04-04T10:38:00.003-11:00

The SWAN (Support Women Artists Now) Day Festival was last Saturday from 2-5pm at the Boston Playwrights Theatre in Boston (of course), and man, did it go well! I was in heaven watching my play and then taking in the response. I usually feel so uncomfortable watching my work, and maybe the reason I didn't this time is that I was at two of the rehearsals with Lau (director), Joey (E-Man), and Robyn (Shannon), and that helped ease the discomfort or whatever I typically experience. The first rehearsal wasn't that long, the previous Saturday, and was a good introduction to the piece, but the second rehearsal, last Friday night (only a week ago? Really?!), went so well and I felt so stoked!!! Now, it's hard for me to get excited about pretty much anything, given the constant back pain I'm in--I can only hope tomorrow's acupuncturist is more successful than the last one (he comes highly recommended, and is near my apartment, two major pluses)--but this time I DID get excited. Joey (the djay E-Man) was just so limber, so creative, so INTO it, and Robyn (the CVS employee listener) played off him really nicely, bringing a sincerity that was appreciated. And Lau is just a genius, bringing a new play to life in ways I couldn't have. She just *got* it, and that's hard to be on the same page with a director. God knows I haven't been in the past when I've been part of the process (okay, just once, but still...), but this was different and wonderful and exhilarating. It's not so surprising, given all of Lau's experience (I've seen her work before and was so happy that she wanted to direct the piece), but still...she was just THERE with it.

Joey threw himself into the part (he was hysterical and also vulnerable), and he and Robyn, who have known each other for many years, brought real emotion to their roles, both comic and serious. This is the play I am most proud of. It is something I worked on all semester at Harvard Extension, of course, but it's a topic I've tried to write about since I was in grad school in the early 90s at Emerson, and I couldn't get there till now. Maybe I finally brought perspective to the idea of two lonely people trying to connect and only doing so when they were real and not part of a persona (b/c, really, aren't we all, most of the time, trying to fit in?) So I was kind of part of the rehearsal, giving some feedback, making a couple of line changes, but I was also just taking it in, and it was amazing. And then on Saturday--wow. WOW. They were so great (Lau couldn't be there, but I have pictures on a disc I'll mail to her after I get them from Debbie) and the response was amazing. It was kind of funny when the audience applauded before the play was over (the lights went down and everyone thought the play had ended, and I kind of cringed and went, Uh, no, help!), but then lights back up for the final short scene (the serious one that brings the two of them together) and when it ended there was so much applause and cheering. WOW. And at the end of the festival, I had so many people come up to me to congratulate me (of course, will they put on any of my plays?! Seriously. Will anyone? Please?). And I knew that the play was successful (not flawless, but what is?) and I felt so bloody proud. The song Undiscovered, that is at the heart of the play, has these lyrics:

I'm not lost, I'm not lost, just undiscovered
When we're alone, we're all the same as each other
You see the look that's on my face, you might think I'm out of place,
I'm not lost, no, no, just undiscovered.

And that is just how I feel. You need to find someone to feel connected to, someone who understands, and that is what the play tries to reveal. Does it fully? Well, no, it can't, it is impossible to truly open up your heart to someone and have them be there with you (at least that's my experience, but then again I've never had a soul-mate, like my sister Stephanie and her husband Andy), but you can try, and that is what the play tries to express. It's also funny (I hope) and I hope that helps, because for once I didn't want to write something moribund. I wanted something that showed who we are (funny, lonely, scared, vulnerable, giving) and I hope the play hints at that. A number of people have suggested I make it longer (it's currently 20 minutes) and I might, but for now I'm happy. But I'm open to the possibility. I just need to continue writing, and I want to work on something else, to become engrossed in it (horrid back pain or not), and then see how I feel about this. I am far too obsessive about my love for James Morrison, whom I've been listening to far too much lately, and that's partly b/c I'm really sad the play is over (I always get a real low after a real high), but I'm moving on, b/c I need to, and I'll get back to writing and see what happens.

But I can keep the great feeling of accomplishment I had last Saturday (it was a great festival, probably the best short play festival I've ever been involved with OR have seen, and Debbie gets huge props for putting it together) with a full house and a terrific reaction to an un-produced play. And I need to keep going, and I will. I am off to see my instructor Ken's reading of a new full-length play at the Boston Center for the Arts now, and that, along with watching another play there with Anna tomorrow, should also encourage me to write more. Because that's what I do. I want to dance, like the contestants on So You Think You Can Dance, but that's not what I do, bad back or no. Writing IS what I can do, sometimes well, sometimes not, sometimes with enthusiasm, sometimes not, but I'll always have it. Sadness, loneliness, and all of these other emotions often overtake me, but maybe I can return to the joy I felt last week and can feel motivated to keep going.

WAKE UP CALL (it's a play, a song, AND my entrance back here)

2008-03-24T05:03:00.005-11:00

Well, so, yeah. Still here. My new play WAKE UP CALL is going to get a staged reading on Saturday, March 29th as part of SWANDay (Support Women Artists Now) at the Boston Playwrights Theatre on Comm Ave in Boston from 2-5pm. The director is Lau Lapides--very experienced,,really talented--and the actors are Joe Orrigo, who just finished up a gig at the Devanaughn Theatre as Sean in SUB-ZERO, and Robyn Nook. They are both going to do an awesome job--I can tell--and I'm so excited to see a new piece get seen by a number of people (capacity is 99, and because the artists are well-known and we are getting a mention in Sidekick, the Boston Globe's arts supplement, we could have a pretty full house). I feel really good about this, and it's been a while (like A REALLY LONG WHILE) since I've seen one of my plays performed, so I'm ready for it. It was a bit weird to see a rehearsal, b/c it's always weird, but cool at the same time. Because it's new, I could really listen to the dialogue (for the most part, I think it works, but I'll have to think about it more at the final rehearsal on Friday night). Lau really got it (she's close to my age, I believe). It was harder for Joey and Robyn, b/c they are in their early-to-mid 20s, and you don't have a lot of perspective at that age (I didn't, anyway). I can remember how I felt, but I couldn't write about it then.

The theme is loneliness, and I'm guessing that neither of them has had the deep seeded lonely pain I've felt, but how would I know? As long as they connect to it, I'll be happy. I also started a new play about kids and their problems that manifest during their book club (shocking that I would write a new, bleak play; what were the chances?!). I was trying to collaborate on it with my 11-year-old niece, Jami, but I don't see it happening. The themes (primarily divorce) are just too mature and dark for her; as my sister said, when she has to study for an exam, that is a frightening and anxiety-ridden prospect, and going any deeper is not probable but certainly not necessary at this time. My well-adjusted niece. :) Oh that I had been at that age (but I've never felt young and carefree, as my plays indicate). It's hard to write with my back continuing to throb continuously--I can't even write at home anymore, b/c I cannot sit in my office chair anymore--but I want to try, b/c I haven't work on anything since the end of January, when the total revamping of SHOOT was due (no word yet from Heartland, where I remain a semi-finalist; fingers crossed). So most of my time is spent trying NOT to think about how bloody much my bloody back hurts and looking forward to the Herbert/Benson Clinic's 12-week session on pain management (it begins on April 16th, fittingly the day before my, ugh, birthday, ugh). Let us hope and pray because I am pretty much out of options. Maybe my guided meditations will help, eventually, though they haven't to date (of course, I've only been doing them for a few weeks, so it's way too soon to tell).

Okay, so that's a bout it. My parents return home next Monday--I'm looking forward to seeing them--and really hopeful that we get some nice weather soon (it's the end of April and still damn chilly out). I'll report back after the staged reading or after some playwrighting news (if it's good; if not, I won't post until I've recovered from the disappointment).

Yep, still here

2008-02-22T14:06:00.002-11:00

I'm completely embarrassed at not having posted for over a month. *slapping wrist* Some of this, I have to be honest, is attributed to my back, which is getting worse rather than better. I have another doctor's appointment at New England Baptist on Tuesday, and I can't say I feel very optimistic, but I'm back at the gym, doing light workouts on the bike and several exercises from physical therapy, along with frequent icing, so I'm doing all that I can. We'll see what the doctor says on Tuesday. I realize this is going to take a long time. I just wish I knew how long. I also spent nine days in Florida with my parents. They are renting a wonderful condo on the water, and you can have the waves from every room in the condo. It's amazing. We had a very nice together, and it was *much* needed respite. The cold, the snow (we're in the middle of a snowstorm in Boston right now, like *that's* a surprise), my back, getting through Registration and the beginning of classes: all took a toll on me, mentally and physically. I can't remember ever needing a break as much as I needed this one. The only problem was that I was in pain so much of the time. I can't really sit comfortably anymore, and that is, of course, a huge issue. But I ended staying there a few days longer, when I realized I just wasn't ready to come home (two days of high winds, rain, and tornado watches were in effect, and I needed more sun and more time there), and my dad generously paid for me to stay longer. I am incredibly grateful.

That being said, I need to keep on top of this thing, and I am simply not doing it. I will try harder. There have been only two items on the writing agenda. The first is that I didn't get into the Turnip Festival (the American Globe) in NYC, and I desperately wanted to. It's so prestigous, and I had a director for my piece ONE LAST FIGHT, Jack from NYC and SD, and he and I were so helpful. But it wasn't meant to be, and that hurt. A lot. This play is the one that had a three-week run, favorable, I was told, in San Diego by the Candy Shoppe producers, Jeff and Summer, so I know it's a sound play (they thought so, at any rate), and the rejection was very disheartening. Debbie got in with her really strong play ONE MORE TO GO, and I was so pleased for her, but I wished we had been able to celebrate together. Then while I was in Florida, I received another rejection (though I didn't send the right piece, so I can't say I was very upset about it). It made me think, Geez, why do this when the rejection is so great? Doesn't it feel better NOT to get any? I pondered this while I continued to rest in Florida.

And then...as happens so often...when I am just about to give up (for a little while, at any rate), I got news that the Heartland Theatre in Normal, IL put it through to the next round (I'm a semi-finalist for their national festival). This play is a complete revision of SHOOT. Changing it up with the help of Debbie and Anna (moving it from a convenience store to a cafe and completely changing the focus from a homeless man to the 20-something photographer; I had meant this to be the case from the beginning) allowed me to create a new, much stronger piece, and it meant so much for me to 1) do the work I needed to in order to get the piece to work, and 2) have a festival satisfied enough with it to keep the reading going. I may not get in (please, please, say yes), and it would feel WONDERFUL for them to say yes (Debbie got her piece, one of only eight, in two years ago, and said they treated her with tremendous respect), but in any case, I know that with due diligence, and some faith, I can keep going.

Of course, the issue is, do I really want to, the timeless battle. What I *will* say is that I want to think of writing as *my* dance. I am completely obsessed with dancing at the moment, and have been ever since SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE began last summer and my sister Stephanie and my niece Jami got me hooked on it. I went to see the tour, taped all of the episodes (and then the ones from S2 that were on MTV), constantly check Blogging SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE several times a day (it's worth it), and am now watching the current season of the show in Australia on the web. But I can't dance, I can barely walk without discomfort, and I think some of my interest comes from a desire to do something I wish I could but can't. I never had any interest in hip hop dance until I began watching SYTYCD (and am now a devotee of America's Best Dance Crew on MTV), but started wanting to take a class around the time my back gave out on me, so I have to think there is a connection. But this evening I started thinking: Well, I can't dance, but I *can* still write. I can sit down and type, and if gets too uncomfortable, I can get up, stretch, ice the upper or lower back, and then begin again. I saw one contestant who had a serious back operation in her teens, but continued to dance with a greater passion afterwards. That's the way you go; if you're passionate, you don't stop, but you accept your limitations (that is what a co-worker told me today, in fact; he has back problems, and had to readjust his activities, but the back problems DID go away for the most part after a while, and he said if I listen to my back, I will learn how to treat it).

Anyway, if I let my writing do my dancing, well, that's an idea I hadn't thought of but did earlier this evening, and it's a thought. I listen to r&B/hip hop music now, like Chris Brown, Ne-Yo, Rhiannon, and Timbaland (but also downloaded the new Jack Johnson CD Tuesday), and watch Idol and dance shows (though I can't sing well OR dance). But I *can* write and why not use that as a means of self-expression? So that's tonight. It might not be the way I feel tomorrow, or next week, so I'll have to piece it together.

Right now, though, I have to figure out a way to get my car out of the back lot, so I can get to the doctor on Tuesday.............

Class over; play good?

2008-01-12T12:41:00.000-11:00

Happy, New Year, all. I finished the Harvard Extension School course on Tuesday and sent off my 15-minute play and two short plays and a monologue to Instructor Ken today. I am SO relieved that I made it through the class and wrote a play that I am actually proud of. I've had a serious back problem since late July, and it was hard to sit through class during the semester. Nonetheless, I persevered, and I did what I had set out to do: write a new play. I won't say it's necessarily the *best* play I've ever written, but it is the play I've spent the most time on. I really had to consider who these characters were, what they wanted, and how their goals would be met. Ken noted that though they had the same internal conflicts, it worked b/c they meshed. I reworked some parts of the play that needed work, and in the last class my partner (assigned) said he really like the play (yay!). He basically had no issues with it, which was a huge relief. He thought maybe the monologues were a bit long, and he thought I might want to address them to the audience, but I just didn't think it would add anything (though I can think more about it before I send it off to any festivals, I guess).

We spent the last class reading (SILENTLY) our partner's play and then writing comments, which we then gave to the playwright who in turn wrote down five things he/she wanted to change about his/her play. I still don't understand why we didn't read the plays OUT LOUD, so we could see how they sounded, or why the partners didn't converse with one another after reading the plays, but I didn't run the class I just attended it. I actually didn't have anything I wanted to change (just a couple of items I wanted to think about), though others did, b/c I felt the play was done. (My partner had not revised his play at all that I could tell, so I basically rehashed what the rest of the class had said several weeks earlier. Oh, well.) The last 45 minutes were spent discussing how to get plays produced, and I did get some information, though I already knew some of it (e.g., Gary Garrison's LOOP and LOP). I don't like to think about it being discussed as a business, but that's because I don't make my living off my plays; they are just my creative outlet.

So, I guess we'll see what Ken says, and what festivals say. At least I wrote the play, thought a lot about it WHILE I was writing it, and AM inspired to write another play (or significantly revise it), and that was my goal. Now I can watch the Patriots beat the Jaguars with a load off my shoulder. Thanks for listening to my expose of the class over the last four months. Maybe I'll teach one someday. :)

Go, PATS! 16-0; 3 more to go!!!

Good news! :)

2007-12-20T10:15:00.000-11:00

Well, finally, I have good news to report re: a play being accepted. My 10-minute play, ONE LAST FIGHT (the one about the father/son's conflict) has been accepted by Summer Golden for a production of favorite one-act plays at the North Park Vaudeville and Candy Shoppe in Dan Diego! The play was originally not accepted for their festival. However, it was b/c they couldn't find a director for it, and Summer and her co-hort Jeff Bushnell liked the play so much that they are including it in their three week production in February. Isn't that cool? I think so, anyway. :) I had hoped some theatre would like it (I know friends who do), and now it will be produced. I wish I could go to San Diego to watch it, but unlike Debbie, I do not have the funds to travel across the country to watch my plays being performed, although I would desperately like to! San Diego is one of those cities I have always wanted to see, but I just don't have the money to spend paying for a flight, hotel or b&b, and transportation. Sigh. But I feel excited nonetheless, and I submitted it to the Provincetown Spring Play Festival 2008, in hopes that they, too, will like it (they workshop the six plays chosen as well; I know, major long shot), and I wrote a brief cover letter that mentions the San Diego decision. I would love to meet Summer and Jeff, but I guess it's not too be. Alas.

As far as this week's class, we didn't talk TOO much about internal conflict (we are all getting sick of the term, including Ken, perhaps). The first play was too odd (I couldn't really get into it b/c, frankly, it was pretty boring) and the second play was interesting but very confusing (sort of in its own world), so we just tried to figure it out and not worry about other issues other than deciding if the world worked (not yet, we decided, not consistently so). Thus the class ended, with the exception of one final class on January 7, where we break into small groups and discuss our final drafts, with one more week to tweak before emailing Ken. Unfortunately, he also wants rewrites of other assignments. He talked about this being a complete portfolio. I understand that, but I would rather spend the time on the actual project, the 10-minute play, and not on work that was submitted at the time it was assigned. We had a 10-minute play then that I would rather not work on (I'll just tweak it a bit, I guess), and a monologue that has nothing to do with the actual play I submitted (so I guess a new monologue is in order; perhaps it will be interesting to write). And there is one final, short piece that I plan to look at and pretty much leave as is. And thus ends the class.

I won't go into my feelings about the class, except to say that I disagree with trying to understand plays at the time they are presented (I really need a week to understand it and formulate questions) and really would have liked comments, both from Ken and from the other classmates, the way a typical workshop works (I don't understand why Ken didn't conduct it this way). I hope he would consider changing it in the future, and I am not the only one who feels this way.

I also made a friend, Sarah, through the class (we would discuss relevant points in the cold after class, and decided that meeting for an actual discussion over a meal would be nice) and we will hopefully meet next week, since we both have time off (I am going to work half-days, around physical therapy). I hate to jinx myself, but my back is *starting* to feel a bit better, and I hope very much to return to working out on the elliptical machine (beginning at level 1, so no worries, for a half hour) after the first of the year (hurrah!!!!!!!!!!). I also plan to see Stephanie and the nieces on Sunday and Monday, when Laural and her kids come in (that will be short, but at least I will see them again in February, when I visit with my parents and Laural for a week). I need nice weather desperately, b/c it is snowing--AGAIN--and we are about at nine inches, give or take, with snow over ice over snow. Delightful. Joe the landlord has promised to have someone plow me out for Sunday, so at least I can get to Longmeadow. And then I can spend Christmas with the Karens and T.J., which will be fun. I am not planning New Year's Eve and Day yet; too far away.

And that's about it. Work is somewhat slow, which is nice, and will pick up soon. In the meantime, I drink caffeine to counteract the medicine for my back (very sedating), look forward to reading and watching the four (!) DVDs I have from NetFlix, and doing some work on my writing for class. And that's it for now. Yay, San Diego. Thank you for FINALLY taking one of my plays. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

My play is finally critiqued

2007-12-14T03:07:00.000-11:00

I need to go to work soon--Boston was clobbered by a snow storm, so we are starting an hour late, at 10am--but I thought I would check in with a brief update.

I was rather concerned that the class wouldn't like it, as I've mentioned before. I wasn't sure *I liked it, though I'd worked quite hard on it. The whole "internal conflict" situation was a bit of a problem, b/c both characters had the same one: They were lonely, pretending to be someone they were not (the djay was a cool hipster, but really a guy who took an overnight shift b/c he wanted to be a djay and this was the only gig available; the woman pretended to be a beautiful model with Victoria Secret, when in fact she worked overnights at CVS, to pay off her undergrad debts so she could go to grad school). So they connected via their phone calls and a contest, but their contact was based on false pretense. When they meet, they actually do over a song by James Morrison called "Undiscovered" (I love the song, but it's obscure, which is good, b/c only a realy music fan would know it). Anyway, that's the story, and I feared the reaction. The first play up was really surreal (well written, but not my kind of play), so I wondered how the class would like mine. And the response was...

VERY FAVORABLE! YAY! The class said it was well written, the characters were believable, and they could relate to them, and the dialogue was believable. I was SO relieved. They hoped for more (i.e, they wanted the characters, particularly the woman, to play the false characters even more strongly), and I understand that. They also, oddly to me, looked at the play as a "romantic comedy" and laughed a lot (that's not how I had written it, but hey, that's fine, if most people related to it!). One woman stormed out of the class, saying it was stereotypical of blacks being the only ones who like hip hop (in fact, I do, as do many of my friends, all of whom happen to be white or asian). The point is that this guy pretends to be black so he's cool, when he's a nerdy white guy (and maybe Jewish, like me, but I haven't decided if that's relevant yet). Anyway, Ken asked me to write up a two-paragraph synopsis, which is a good idea, and also noted that it was too long, at 18 minutes (!), which is fine, b/c as an overwriter, I have plenty to work with, and many passages did seem redundant.

So I survived the event unscathed, and though it will very hard to write at my desk (which I'm doing right now, using ice, and it's still very uncomfortable), but I will find a way. And now I'm off to work, expecting to get splashed like crazy. Meanwhile, it's 75 degrees and sunny in Florida, and I wish I were there with my sister and parents in the worst way. Florida (that's when I take my vacation) is such a long way away..............

This week's report from writing class...

2007-12-01T02:44:00.000-11:00

Well, not too much to report this week (shockingly), but in 10 days *I* go, so look out, all! :) I might write a dissertation, if I can get past the wreckage. Ever optmistic am I. Perhaps there is a play hidden within...

Anyway, we read two plays this past week. Let me just say how incredibly useful it is to have the plays in advance and have time to think about them rather than get them that evening and have to respond after one cold read. Some would say (and have), Hey, that's what readings are like. To respond, I say:

1) Typically, the actors have had time to read over the script, so it's not entirely a cold read; and
2) You're not expected to give detailed analysis of the play 30 seconds after it's been read. And don't get me started on a full-production. If you can't figure out your reactions, well, then, that's life.

Granted, we do have the popcorn round (I brought in popcorn for my hosting food, because I am *very* clever and the first play was about S&M and the boy feeds Desi popcorn as they watch the end of Jurassic Park and she is in a harness; no, don't ask), where we throw out the first impression, something that "popped out" at us, so we have a little time to digest (ha ha) the play before we give detailed comments, but still...So I had the plays in advance, could read them a number of times, make notes, and then use other students' and Ken's comments to offer a more thoughtful analysis. I have had several other writing classes when I was at Emerson College, and *all* of them were this way. If I ever teach playwrighting, this is what I will do (i.e., have the writers email the classmates at least a day before with the piece). Ken even agreed with me a number of times. I suspect that is because I had the time to really understand the plays and because, just maybe, I am starting to get the jist of the internal conflict issue. I still think of it as a putting out there a well-rounded character. So, for example, if Desi and boy (yes, boy) are engaging in S&M whilst watching a movie, then why? Does this happen all of the time? How exactly do both of them think about this? Is the end of sex (I, er, didn't think of that question)? As the play ends and Desi walks out in anger, is this the *last* time, or does it happen every time? Why is boy called boy and Desi has a name? Is she a prostitute (unlikely)? Do they enjoy this or do it in a rote way? Who enjoys it more or does neither enjoy it? So, these are the questions that the classmates and I had, and it's not so much internal conflict (I think) as it is a fleshing out of the characters and the story in general and not because they want this and they want that, and their needs/wants are in opposition. Maybe that's just me.

I won't go over the other play, b/c I think you get the idea. And b/c the play initially seemed very off-putting but wasn't so as I reread and reread it, so had I not had a chance to get familiarized with it, I think I would have had time commenting on it.

I continue to tweak my play, but man, I am going to get creamed when it's read and discussed.. I'd bet money on it.

Oh, and I began physical therapy on Wednesday. I was given four *very gentle* exercises, which tells you how far I've regressed. Medicine number *five* did not work, so that's it for medicine, aside from Advil. It's now 25 degrees in Boston, and I wish it was spring already. My trip to Florida in February is way too far away.

Well, lordy, it's about time, eh? :)

2007-11-27T16:48:00.000-11:00

So sorry. I have so been not posting here for nearly two months. Humblest apologies! (And thanks to Blogging So You Think You Can Dance for linking me--a big shout out to a great site that's all about my favorite show. :)) Anyway, you don't want to hear about how my physical therapy for my back hasn't been working (I start again tomorrow morning; maybe I'll have better luck this time!) or about how Thanksgiving rather sucked (my poor niece Casey got really sick and was in the hospital, so only my mother, father, and I ate dinner together after my mom had prepared this amazing meal, and decorated the house so nicely, etc., etc.), right? Okay, so we'll move right along.

I continue to revise, tweak, and think about my play for class, DISCOVERY. The biggest issue continues to be that the main characters have a similar voice, b/c they have a similar wants (scared of being hurt; wanting to find someone to connect with). I may not be able to resolve this prior to my presenting night in two weeks. I can only write it how I know to and then it's open to discussion. I'm working on another play about a barista and her customer (not like WEDNESDAYS, my cafe play) and shoes, and it could be much different than other pieces I've worked on (I wanted to go to the surreal place, and I *never* go there), but it's rather tough going, though I plan to put more time into it this weekend. And I've bought a couple of new books, one by Jonathan Safran Foer and his wife, Nicole Kraus, and reading always keeps me invigorated and helps get my mind off my bloody back...sorry, no more back talk!

I have posted to my listserv each week a summary of my class at Harvard. Rather than rehash, let me just repost some of those here (the ones I can actually find; I'll keep looking), for those of you who aren't on the listserv. :) Tonight's class went much better, though I still think Ken (the instructor) will hate my play (I guess I should say "have many problems with it"), and I'm up in two weeks, so I'll be sure to post about it right afterwards, if I'm up to it. :)

Anyway, here are the posts. Enjoy.

10.17.07
Conflicted Thoughts on Conflict
I want to thank ALL OF YOU for your insightful thoughts on what internal conflict means and how to get that across (or not write from that angle, probably showing some, or all of it, anyway). I really mean that. It gives me a lot of ideas on how to approach the writing exercise next week (which I find troublesome, but then again, I never used an outline to write my term papers in college and grad school) and the 10-15 minute play for the final project. It's an approach I *have* to take, and I don't like that way of writing. BUT I am willing to try, and we'll see if I a) decide that it's a helpful way to write a short play (or a scene for a longer play), or be) decide that it isn't an approach that I find helpful. But I won't know this, I suppose, until I try, and I either decide to use this way or discard it. I really did take the class to inspire me to write (it's certainly doing that). It's also getting me to think about writing in a different way. But I think (right now, anyway) to continually think about what someone is thinking and what someone else is thinking and then to continually think about it as a write. I am more of an intuitive writer. I come up with a theme or idea that inspires me, then the characters, and then the plot (or that action) that will advance the play and that will, likely, change the characters (although I'm not always sure both of them need to be changed, but maybe they are be/c the nature of their actions dictate this), and I do so unconsciously. This will certainly make me think about the play, but I really am reticent to spend too much time in my head (which I found was the problem I had with improv theatre).

10.23.07
On monologues. Anyway, mine was read last. Whether that was a good or bad thing (it wasn't intentional) is up for grabs, although we spent exactly four minutes on it, two to read it, and two to discuss it. Others had theirs read twice, but mine only got one reading, b/c we were running out of time and because I don't think Ken was particularly interested in discussing it. This could be a) because I know how to write a monologue, b) Enough people had their monologues critiqued so we got the idea by then, or c) I had totally botched the assignment (naturally, I and one other student were the only ones who wrote him about the play in its entirety and therefore I was one of two students who didn't *get* the assignment). I thought that we were supposed to use the monologue to basically summarize the play (though I don't know how it ends--which is a *good* thing--so I left it ambiguous). However, we were supposed to use it to have one of the characters address someone to give us point of view, or to show how conflict would be expressed in the play, or to show how a monologue is representative of the entire play without actually encapsulating the entire play. This I did not do.

Every week, I leave there feeling more stupid than the week before. (This is probably just me; the other students don't seem to think I'm stupid, and a couple have said they have enjoyed my work.) I think that I wrote a good monologue. No, it's not a typical monologue. I wasn't trying to *write* a typical monologue. I was trying to, as I said, summarize the play through one of the character's eyes (and he's a djay, so his audience was his...you know...audience). You could also say I wrote it as an internal monologue, but the point was that we learned about him (he's stalking a listener) and her (she's stalking him back), and the tone changes as the persona breaks down. So...um...why did this not work? Because I had given it away?! (Plus I hadn't revealed the resolution, b/c I don't know what it is yet!) Deep sigh. AND.. tonight we learned.our play has to contain at least one moment where someone sings or music is introduced (fine, it's at a radio station, and I asked him about copyright infringement, and he said it wouldn't be an issue if only a couple of lines of the lyrics were used, so I guess I was wrong about that), and there has to be a revelation of some sort (of course), and...there has to be a swordfight! (We can decide what means and how it plays out.)

In summary, I'm not quite understanding Ken's assignments. Why is he putting these sort of rules into our plays? Is he just testing us? Is he giving us parameters to help us be more creative? Is he trying us to write with humor? I mean, I don't get it. But I will simply write the play and hope for the best. I am motivated. I am just not sure I will be able to fulfill whatever expectations he has of me or of us. If I write a strong play, one that I am satisfied with, that will do.

10.30.07
Tonight's breakdown, also known as a synopsis (summary?) of tonight's class, though I do not think I am supposed to use the word synopsis.

We began by listening to and being asked about two monologues. I absolutely understand that a monologue should have a specific voice and be directed toward a particular audience, but does it have to be a representation of the play? I guess I mean, can we read into a play from just hearing one character's monologue? To be honest, I am not sure what monologues (in plays, in context, not as a self-contained piece) are supposed to do in the first place. Comments?

Then the first student, brave student Sarah, had her brand spanking new play critiqued. There are lots of ground rules, which I am sure will shock you (and which I think is typical), but what I did like, after the reading, is the popcorn speed round, where each listener had to list one idea or word or anything that popped out at him/her. I first used Sarah's dialogue, but then changed it as I begun to wonder why one of the characters seemed underdeveloped and proposed that perhaps D. was a part of Malik and was not in fact a separate character but a manifestation of his younger self (and "Opportunity" was a metaphor for what he might achieve if he sold out, which he decides not to do). Or not. Anyway, after the lightening round, we begin our discussion of the piece (typically, there are two, but there was only one tonight, so Sarah got more time), which he preferred we not read but listen to during the reading. Since that doesn't work for me (I lose focus), I read it. This is boring to you, but I'll simply add that we got to ask Sarah questions, which she did not get to answer, and then she got to ask us questions, I think, but it was mostly focused on what we needed clarification. I like the way Ken runs the critique. The only thing I have trouble with--again--is his insistence on inner conflict (what did a character want, and did he achieve it) and his value (e.g, did he change from honest to dishonest, loyal to disloyal, etc.) and why. I just do not like to write this way, and certainly not until I'm in the revision stage (well into it).

I did finish the first draft of my play today. I do not think Ken will like it--it is naturalistic and probably doesn't have enough inner conflict--but I have time to work on it. And then we'll see. Too bad the course is graded. I honestly do not believe in grading creative writing classes. Pass or fail is just fine with me.

11.20.07
Well, so, I think we're on week 11...wow...where does the time fly? Three weeks to D-day (or is that P-Day, presentation night?). I'm still trying to work things out am a bit confused, so I will try to be coherent, but you were warned. :) Stop reading now if you're in a hurry...

Anyway, as always there were two plays workshopped. One was very snappy, dialogue-wise, but the author didn't make the characters quite three-dimensional enough. (That said, I could totally seeing it doing well in a 10-minute play festival, because it was crisp and had a point and it was stronger than many of the plays I've seen produced. ;-)) Seriously, I think the problem with 10-minute plays, and I'm seeing it more than ever in the class, is really is the length of time, b/c it can be so constraining (says the writer who can't get past 10 pages!!!). Really, how much back story can you put in? How much can you push the situation? It's tough, and I'm not sure most audiences want see a deep short play (though that is another conversation, obviously). Anyway, I am not sure how much more she could do with the play, though Ken said she needed to make it more comic or more tragic, but that she had to make up her mind and then the characters would be more well-rounded. We talked about...wait for it...internal conflict within the play, and I *might* be getting a sense of it. I don't know if I would call it that, necessarily, but I do understand that if the characters have complexities (and Ken would call them the internal conflict, as I've said many times, e.g., I love my husband; I want my freedom), the play is more interesting. If two characters are explored in depth, and the third doesn't have an internal conflict (which I would say is more about wants/needs/results of same), then you have a lopsided play (if all three characters are equal partners, per se, and one isn't of interest b/c he hasn't...changed? Ken said I thought he thought this was the case with one of the characters, who just wasn't likeable enough for me to care about him). I think Ken is of the opinion that if a character is in the play, he better have something to do (even a baby or the off-stage husband needs to be more than symbolic). Maybe...

As I continue to think about this in regard to my play (and thank you to Shirley and Callie who have read it and offered feedback), I am less concerned about the djay and his listener having the same internal conflict (I am lonely. I am afraid of finding someone who might hurt me) than I am with them seeming enough like different people (Callie said they sounded as if they had the same voice). I think she meant that despite them speaking differently (literally; one, the djay, is hip hop, or trying to sound that way, one, the listener, is confident and carefree, or pretending to be), they sound the same, figuratively. So I will need to play around with this some more, I guess. One of my classmates told me NOT to worry about the work until after its presentation (he would be, er, not the first to offer that suggestion), but then suggested I meet with Ken soon thereafter, to ensure getting time to discuss. I am not sure I can defend the play, but that of course is not what I am expected to do. I need to ask the class questions about their take on it (you know the first one is 'what do you see as the internal conflict?' though I would rather not have to ask that) and then they ask me questions which I don't answer (this is the part I worry about). I did like the fact that Ken talked about tension tonight. I think that's easier for me to wrap my head around. What is the inherent tension (I would say relationship, actually--what do they both bring to the table?) between the two or more characters in a play? In play two, one character is flaky and absurd, if not completely believable, while the other, who is seeing the first woman's husband, is reactive and fairly bland (we don't understand why they are friends and why friend two would spend time with friend one if she was cheating on friend one; we could guess but we don't *know* because the play doesn't give us anything to help us summize). Maybe if you can't express the internal conflict (the I want; I want, and they are not necessarily in opposition, but are not being attained), then it means the characters doesn't have the want/need he/she needs to be well-defined.

I did want to add that the second writer said at the end of the critique, But why does it matter if the "reveal" happens in page nine of 11 and if some viewers get it before then? Ken said a few times that it would be boring for the audience if the reveal happened so quickly and then the stakes weren't heightened. The writer said that Ken was too informed to be a typical play-goer and, in effect, his opinion didn't really count. I thought it was pretty funny to come right out and tell your instructor that he's wrong b/c he's too smart! And the most amusing thing is that I didn't get the reveal until the final line!

Okay, well, thanks for letting me ramble on. As you can see, I am still trying to work this all out for me and my writing. It's a lot more complex than I'd thought!!! Maybe if I *get* it, I'll have less difficulty writing my plays. If you can *get it*. I go back and forth with this every week...

Tonight's class, 10.16.07

2007-10-16T16:43:00.000-11:00

I will post weekly updates about my playwrighting class with Ken Urban at Harvard Extension School to this blog. I missed the first few weeks. They will be reprinted in their entirety shortly. In the meantime, here goes...

Tonight's class was not a good one. I'm depressed. You know how you have to be broken down to be built up again? Well, I was broken down tonight. I hope the building up part comes soon..

We discussed internal conflict again. Apparently, each character needs to have two. For example: I want to buy a nice car. I want to be liked by people who do not care about material things. (I'm reaching here, but this is as I understand it.) Both characters need two internal conflicts and each character's internal conflicts are in conflict with each other character's conflicts.

To which, I say, HUH? (Do you all have internal conflicts within your plays? How did I write plays without understanding that it even existed? I thought it was all external conflict, brought about by one person wanting something and another person wanting something else and eventually someone won and someone lost or they both came together and hugged one another. Okay, just kidding about the last part.)

Anyway, we read each student's 10-minute play. Some were strong than others. (Some were pretty funny; some were pretty bad; one student wrote a paper on feminist constricts within a film construct. Don't ask me what that means. Another student's 16-year-old boy spoke as if he was 30. He needs dialogue assistance.And a third student's play was just...odd.)

And then there were three. (There are 15 students in the class. There were 16 to start, plus three on the wait list. Someone has already bowed out. It's tempting.) We now all knew we did not have internal conflict in our plays. (At this point, I also knew my play sucked.) But we had no choice. Our plays had to be read. And so they were. And my play read even worse than I had suspected. I was trying to be inventive with my language. Instead, it came across as stilted, plus the plot was simplistic and overt, and there WAS NO OVERRIDING INTERNAL CONFLICT. *sigh*

I'm so confused! I came up with the preliminary idea for my semester project (a 10-15 minute play). It's not a great idea; it's an okay one. I have 10 things I have to put into a 60-90 second monologue for next week that encapsulates EVERYTHING about the play; from characters to location to, you know it's coming...CONFLICT and how it will be resolved. I kid you not. A short monologue (to a particular audience, naturally) that wraps up the entire play? Why bother even writing the play?!

And I thought, back in my naive days (four weeks ago), Heck, I know how to write, I just need to get over my writer's block. And Ken said on the first night, Maybe this class will be too much of a beginning playwrights class for you. And now I wonder how I'll make it through the semester without beating myself to a pulp...

More as it develops.

And now it's October

2007-10-09T05:42:00.000-11:00

It's been a really long time since I've posted, which I think is obvious by the last posting date (about a month ago). There are a number of reasons for this. The primary reason is that I have an inflamed nerve that just won't stop throbbing and throbbing and then throbbing even more. As I type this, I am sitting at my desk on a pillow, which really isn't helping much. (pause) Now I'm standing, b/c it just hurts to much to sit. My new office chair, that I ordered from Staples, is literally due to arrive any minute now, and I'm impatiently waiting, so I can leave the house (I've waited since 9am, and it's a little after 1:00pm now). It's in the low 60s and sunny today, and this is the last sunny day we're expected to have for a number of days, so I want to take advantage of it. I took the day off from work so I could be here for the chair's arrival. I still have to get it assembled (it takes two people and I couldn't do it by myself, anyway). It's a really big deal for me, since I can't sit in my chair--it's only gotten worse over the past month or so--and I clearly can't write if I can't sit down. So I hope this one will work for me--I tried it a number of times and it seemed to be as comfortable as a chair can be, considering my difficulty of sitting anywhere right now--b/c I can't write for class (or answer email or really do anything), and I will have some serious writing to do starting this week. Fortunately, all we had for an assignment this week was to come up with a proposal for our semester-long project, and I could write it up at work (it's only one page, and I attached my play ONE LAST FIGHT, as an example as the kind of writing I currently do).

So, how goes the class at Harvard Extension School, you ask (perhaps)? Well, so far, so good. We've only had two classes, with the third one tonight (16 people, which is large, but perhaps will lessen due to attrition, aka withdrawing, as the weeks progress), but I already feel as if I've learned some basic tenents of writing that I didn't realize (of course, or I wouldn't have learned them!), and I had hoped that would be the case. While I am the most experienced *playwright* in the class (which is really not sayng much), according to the other classmates's descriptions of themselves, and reason for taking the course, I am not the most experienced writer (I'm guessing). There are journalists, novelists, short fiction writers, and poets in the class, as well as musicians and those who are involved with drama as actors, directors, or stage managers. So it's an eclectic group, which I had hoped for, and we can all learn from one another and of course from the instructor, Ken Urban, who has a Ph.D and is a director and working playwright, as well as a teacher. I had researched Ken (he has a website, naturally), to make sure he was a working writer (as were the writing instructors at Emerson, where I received my MFA in Creative Writing, but in short fiction), and he is, which in my mind is key. I believe he has a different sensiblity than I do, which is just fine. (I read a 10-minute play of his that was on his website, and bought his current play, so I could see the kind of writing he engages in, though I haven't read the full-length play yet, b/c I have been busy and b/c I am not particularly organized at the moment, due to pain in large part. I hope to read it this afternoon, after the chair arrives.)

I took the class to help me get over my writing slump. I hadn't written anything longer than a three-page play since the spring, and I was extremely upset about this. How could I call myself a playwright or just a writer if I wasn't writing? Okay, that's stupid--I wasn't writing at the time (or for a long time)--but I had written and I would write again. I hoped. But when? And how, when I was so blocked and so put off by my writing and by writing in general? So I took a class that would force me to write, and to hopefully write b/c I would enjoy it again. Well, I already feel challenged (plus required to write if I want to pass the class), and already feel as if I am not only learning a new vocabulary but am willing to try to write in a different way than I have before. I am willing to take chances. I may not succeed at them, but I'm open to trying. And wow, the idea of writing and wanting to write is the most important thing. I took a look (for the first time in a while) at ONE LAST FIGHT, my late father/son play, after I attached it to the proposal, and went, Hmm, I don't like it that much anymore. I still don't know if it hasn't been produced b/c it's too hard to cast (two males, one 40s, one 60s), it's too depressing, or it just isn't a very well-written play. I don't know yet.

I sent it to a fellow playwrights listserv member, Jack (he is a producer/writer/director in NYC), to see if he wants to direct it SHOULD it get into the Turnip Festival (the American Globe's festival of short new plays in NYC). I am waiting for his take on it. He will be objective and I'm curious and concerned. But until I hear from him, I just have to think about other things. Like my back. (I can't stop thinking about my back, b/c it HURTS LIKE HELL and I can barely sit down. Seriously.) I am in physical therapy--I'm going on my 3rd week--and I was very naive to think I could get this taken care of in a month. But now I don't know if it will be stop hurting in two months! Feh. I did go to the gym for the first time in two months (yes, I've been in pain for over two months now, sigh) and did a half hour on the elliptical. It didn't seem to have any kind of effect, either way, so I will keep going (every couple of days; I'm not foolish enough to think I can go every day anymore) and will keep stretching and walking (not exercising has not proven helpful, which I thought might help--nope) and gong to p.t. and praying I feel better soon, b/c it has cut into my daily life. I complain b/c I swear that it is most debiliating. No, thank God it is not like my mom's cancer--not in the same league, and I had a brief scare in that area a few weeks ago, so let me tell you, I don't take what happened to my mom and happens to many other women lightly, and I never will--but I am still suffering every day (I mean, I can't sit at my desk anymore! I can't stand or sit without some measure of pain, slight or great, throbbing away--I'm currently standing again, b/c sitting on the floor on pillows didn't help), and it sucks bit time.

Yay, the chair arrived!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can't wait to put it together and get back to the business of writing at my desk at home without wanting to cry. Seriously.

Okay, so besides that, work is busy (steady), but not insane, at least not yet. The new part of the job--taking care of the incoming class's transfer credits, and other prospective students' questions--has begun, and so I'm getting acclimated without being swamped. That may happen soon, but it's nice to know that I have a network of supporters. (It's huge, really, especially for someone who is as fearful of change as I am.) And besides what I have written here already, nothing particularly interesing has happened. My parents and I are driving to MD in a couple of weeks for my cousin Cindy's daughter's bat mitsvah. I typically wouldn't go to something like this--I am not at all the extended family type, nor am I remotely religious--but since my parents AND both of my sisters and their husbands and kids are going, I couldn't consider the idea of skipping a short but fun family reunion, so I'll take the eight hour drive each way. My mom told me I could bring CDs for the trip (not that she would like, say, Robin Thicke's 2006 release, I'm guessing, although it's fairly mellow, for him, anyway,and many of my albums, like the new Jason Reeves release, is downloaded directly from iTunes, thanks to my friend Somaly's assistance), and I'll find some like Cyrus Chestnut, John Mayer's latest CD, and Madeleine Peyroux that should work well for all of us. We are leaving early Thursday morning and coming back late (well, late-ish) Sunday night, so I'm taking Wednesday-Monday of that week off, and I am looking forward to some time away from the office, b/c we all like that. I just hope the weather is nice (not rainy would work) and we can enjoy our day sightseeing in DC.

Okay, so that's it. I'm off for the day. I hope this post made up for the time away. :) If you'd like to be my myspace friend (I have 98 at the moment, but you can never have enough, right?), try myspace.com/suebrody and you should find me. Cheers.

Checking in, at last

2007-09-09T02:27:00.000-11:00

Hey, and happy September, only 9 days late! I thought I'd let you know what was going on with me, b/c it's been a while. On the great news front, I got promoted at work to Director of Student Placement. That means I make more money and get more responsibility. I still report to Richard (now in Admissions), and that works out just well for me. A key member of the staff is leaving at the end of the month, and I'm very sad about that, but I hope it works out for her. We got through Registration and almost the first week of classes (b/c of Labor Day) relatively unscathed, and I think the second week will be the same or, just maybe, a bit less hectic. We'll see. I've done drop-in advising a couple of times, but happily that will end next Monday. It's not that I dislike seeing students; I love it, but not at night in someone else's office when I'm beat, b/c I'm not doing anyone any favors when I'm not clear headed. I hope I can continue to serve students to the best of my ability, even with new stuff to do; I think it won't be a problem.

Okay, on the non-work front, not so great news. I hurt my sciatic never, and I've been in a lot of pain for, what, four weeks? Lots of ice, advil, rest, and little activity, walking excluded, has helped somewhat, but not nearly enough. I finally got in to see a specialist (a psychiatrist, and yes, that's a real word) and I had an x-ray and will have an MRI this week and see her the following week. I've had all sorts of knee and hip pay, and this just compounds the problem. Man, I love working out, and I haven't been able to, frustrating at best. But I've been watching my weight like crazy, so at least I'm not gaining weight (no bingeing, not much to eat in the house). I was given the okay to go back to the gym to the elliptical machine, so I'll go tomorrow after work. And I'll take it one day at a time, b/c what else can I do?

My Red Sox have been kicking it, last night's painful loss to the Orioles, the worst team in the league, not withstanding, and it looks good, fingers cross, for them to get into the playoffs, maybe as the winner of the AL East. I rarely miss a game, and with the Patriots beginning their season today against the evil Jets, I'm in sports bliss. If I can't work out, I can exercise vicariously through these teams. Funny thing (odd, really): I've been rewatching SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE shows on my DVR over and over (Neil and Danny rocked my world). It's sort of like I felt about Blake, along with Phil and Chris, on AMERICAN IDOL: I can't get enough of them. The dancing kicked ass, and I learned a lot, but it's also sort of obsessive, and I kind of think it's due to not being able to move the way I'd like. I'd actually be into taking a hip hop class when I'm back to feeling normal, but we'll see. My 4-year-old niece started a class, but she's kind of young for it, and gymnastics makes more sense for her. But I'd love to watch her take a class; too bad she lives in Florida (sigh). I can't go to see the tour, b/c tickets have been sold out in Boston for weeks. My 10-year-old niece and my mom are going to see the tour in Springfield late in September or early October. I'm really jealous, which is ridiculous, but there you go. I'm 44 in age, but maybe not so much in emotional years. I guess there are worse things. I had my hair streaked last week with dark red/purple streaks. It looks subtle but cool. I could go a little more extreme next week, but for now I'm happy (it needs cutting, but I can wait). I need to dress a bit more cool (I know, the GAP isn't really where I should be shopping), and it will happen. But at least the hair's in a good place.

Okay, so on the writing front, which is why I'm supposed to be writing in the first place. Aside from revising and sending off a one-minute play, I haven't done ANYONE all summer. No shock. But there is good news on that front. First, I rewised (tweaked, really) my hair play, REMEMBERING, and am sending it off to a festival in MD tomorrow. It might be a good fit. Anyway, I am giving it a chance, which is the most important thing. I hated seeing this play languish--it's not perfect, but I think it has a lot of strong qualities, and my writing friend Shirley (a great writer and editor/critic) thinks so, too. I haven't sent it anywhere else, and I have other plays I think are better fits for most festivals, but at least this one is an alternate. The binge started on my listserv, so I'm actively sending out plays again, or e-submitting them. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, and one way to do that is to send off the play, put the information in my playwright folder on my computer, and then promptly forget about it. I know most of the plays will be rejected, and it's the only way to get through it. If I forgot I sent a play somewhere, the sting is a lot less (it's often the ones I forget about that come through, and the ones I want or really want almost never happen).

More importantly, however, is that I'm taking a playwrighting class! Since the one at Emerson fell through, and I'd been counting on it (it's not being offered), I decided to look elsewhere. I found one at Harvard Extension School, which has a reputation for offering strong work (I have someone at work who got her bachelor's there, and strongly recommends them), by an instructor named Ken Urban (lots of plays produced or directed), so I signed up. It's $900 plus a $50 reg fee, and that makes me cringe. It's a helluva lot of money, and while I have it now, I could buy a lot of things for $950 (the chair I dream about for one). But this is really important to me at this juncture of my writing (or not writing) process. I'll have to write, b/c there are assignments and writing exercises, and you need to submit 20-30pp at the end of the class to pass. I'm not worried about it--I have a lot more than 30pp written already (more like 100 at the least)--but I am more concerned about pushing through and *enjoying* the process. I think being in a creative environment with others--workshops are much more helpful to me than writing groups, which are more like hearing other plays and giving mere feedback--ought to be inspiring. And if the class isn't, and it doesn't teach me a fair amount about the craft of writing, then I guess I won't be writing again for a long time (I am completely blocked right now, and have lost my love of the process). My sister Laural insists that I was meant to write, as I've been doing it since I was five (that's true; the minute I learned to write, I did, most of the time, especially as I was growing up, and it wasn't as hard for me as nearly everything else was). It's not about rejection anymore, at least not external rejection; it's all about internal interest/pushing through.

So I'm taking the leap, and we'll see where it goes. I have so much vacation time it isn't funny, so I can definitely take days off, one or two at a time, through the fall (not Fridays, b/c I can't, but Wednesdays and Thursdays are fine, b/c they are after the class, so I should still be jived to write). I want them to be writing days, especially b/c it will be nice out (one hopes) in New England in the fall, but not beach-nice days, so it will be great to sit by the window and write but not feel like I need to be outside, at least not all day. The class starts a week from Tuesday, and I'm psyched and a bit tentative to begin it, just b/c I want it to work for me--I want to make it work for me--so much. But I hate watching others do creative things while I envy them and beat myself up for not writing, and I don't want to beat myself up anymore. Nigel on SYTYCD kept saying, Just dance, and I want to Just write. I'll keep you posted.

Sill trying, still not succeeding

2007-08-19T15:08:00.000-11:00

I just saw the movie A GUIDE TO RECOGNIZING YOUR SAINTS. It's based on Dito Monteil's "autobiographical coming of age drama set in tough blue-collar Queen's, NY." Okay, that sounds ridiculous, but it's actually a really moving piece, and then when you get to learn more about the actual Dito (he really did get out, he wrote a non-linear book that become a somewhat lyrical script that he also directed), you think, WOW. This is real. It's gritty, it's real, it's powerful, it *means* something. So I tried to write this morning (a baseball play for Theatre Three) and can I say how badly it went? How false it sounded? How superficial and stupid and uninspired? How little I enjoyed it? Okay, so part of it is that I wanted to be at yoga and I couldn't be, b/c of my stupid sciatic nerve (two weeks off and counting) and how I feel like I'm 80 and I'm not and I'm getting more and more lethargic due to lack of exercise and stimulation. And part of it is that as much as I want to be down and real, I can't be, or I can be and the 10-minute play doesn't fit me. Or maybe both, but probably the former more than the latter.

I can't help thinking about ONE LAST FIGHT, my 10-minute play about the son and his late father duking it out (literally and figuratively; I mean literally and figuratively within the confines of a script). No one wants it. Is it b/c it sucks? Is it b/c it's too hard to cast a play with a 40-something male and a 60-something male? (That can't be easy, I have to admit.) Is it b/c it doesn't work as a 10-minute play? I don't know, but I do know that it really worked for me when I wrote it--it felt authentic--and I haven't written anything that came close to it since. So I have on ENTOURAGE and I'm thinking, Oh, isn't this cute, and who gives a damn about Hollywood (as much as I love Jeremy Piven, I have to say) and its impossibly narcissistic self? So I am taping it and it's on in the background but I have absolutely no interest in watching it now. I'll watch FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS b/c they are willfully ridiculous (and clever as hell and also unsuccessful on the show, but in a sly way), but ENTOURAGE is not there for me now. So...what do I do? I mean, really? Not one damn bit of inspiration. None. Nada. I'm not being whiny (well, if I am, I'm sorry), I'm being honest. I haven't been remotely inspired for about four months, and why is that?! I just do not know. I need to write and I can't write so I guess I won't be writing till I'm ready to write again. I guess maybe I just need to read a lot of plays and watch a lot of movies and maybe someone will want to be my ghostwriter?

It goes up, it goes down

2007-08-11T09:47:00.001-11:00

Well, I was feeling rather sad on Thursday morning. I had just been rejected from the Candy Shoppe Festival in CA, and I thought I had *such* a good chance! I've been trying not to think too much about festivals lately (in part b/c I haven't been *writing* lately), but this one I wanted, particularly b/c I sent my play ONE LAST FIGHT (father/son play, pretty dark) to the festival, and Summer, one of the producers, really liked it. She didn't pick the plays, though; the directors did. So that hit hard; I can't get this play produced, and it's one of my favorites. Apparently, dark plays requiring two males, one 45, one 65, is just not that easy to cast. Go figure. ;-) Anyway, Summer has been very gracious in responding to me, noting that she read the play a lot, was sorry it hadn't been chosen, and I should try again last year (which I will). I guess I should have sent WEDNESDAYS (the cafe play), b/c get what: it just got taken again! Black Woman Productions in PA said yes (and also took HIS NAME IS ROB, a monologue I took from my one-woman show and that I like but rarely send out, mostly b/c it's a monologue). Anyway, that was a very pleasant surprise, as I had forgotten about this festival, they took TWO of my pieces, AND Wednesdays now has two productions, two forthcoming, and two honorable mentions. Clearly, it's caught on with festivals; I guess I need to write more plays like this one. ;-)

Work is getting really busy (I just got back from New Student Orientation, and registration is this week, so it's just going to get crazier), and my body is totally failing me. I got sciatica (I think) for the first time last Sunday, after yoga and a bit of walking, and I literally felt as if my legs would burn up; it was THAT bad. Now I can't sit for lengthy periods of time (say more than 15 or 20 minutes), and I had to drive to and from my sister's house in Western MA on Thursday night and Friday night. I had a lot of fun with my nieces, nephew, and sisters (of course, it was chaotic, b/c they are ages 4-10), but the ride could have killed me. I never thought I would have this problem. (I'm 44, not 84.) I am trying to reach my doctor's office to get an appointment with SOMEONE; this is ridiculous, and I'm having trouble walking and have not worked out for nearly a week. I don't know if I will able to do my yoga class tomorrow, and I'm pretty upset about that. I hope I can nip this in the bud. I won't use that as an excuse for not writing, though. Aside from taking a longer play and making it a one-minute play (it might even work better that way!) for a one-minute play festival, I don't want to write. I just am not in the place. As I've said, the nicer the weather, the harder it is to sit down and write, but I would like to *want* to, and I don't right now, but I hope to soon (like in September, when the madness ends and perhaps my body feels halfway decent again). I can't just send out my old plays; I have to write new ones! And I have to want to write new ones. I hope I will. Soon. Very soon.

End of July check-in

2007-07-30T09:18:00.000-11:00

Well, I'm going to try to check in once a week. We'll see how well I do...anyway, things are going well at work. Registration has not begun yet (which means I can still breathe), so I got to take today off (worked out, finished watching "The Mormons"--a fascinating documentary that Frontline produced, read some more of Augusten Burrough's POSSIBLE SIDE EFFECTS, another bizarre set of essays from this bizarre but brilliant writer, and am waiting for the heavy rains to arrive). It's been really humid in Boston, but unfortunately the air conditioner is in the living room, not in the bedroom, so sleeping is uncomfortable at best (the fan doesn't help much). I promised not to complain, however, b/c this past winter was so horrible (I thought so, anyway), so I'll deal with the heat and appreciate the less humid, sunny days which are due to arrive later this week. My dad and I are going to the Red Sox game this Thursday, and the weather is supposed to great (sunny, 80s), plus Tim Wakefield is pitching (I'm a big Wake fan), so it should be a fun day. We'll see how things play out at work, with the redesignation of several employees; I'm hopeful. The new TV is wonderful, I'm not bingeing, and yet, and yet...I feel this sense of sadness. I guess it's something I'll always have to contend with. The ups and downs are just the way I am.

Last night was just strange; I felt oddly anxious last night (a scratched DVD, or two, should NOT have worried me so much, though I did worry that I might have to buy a new DVD player, and I am trying to save money that I do not want to spend money on electronics). I kept spilling drinks, was sure there was a mouse or something in the kitchen--this is actualy possible--and couldn't focus. Okay, this all sounds like petty whining, and I don't mean it to. I am just trying to get a grip on my need to spend, eat,and exercise excessively (my knees are aching, so walking is OUT, at least for a while), and I am not writing. At all. Not one bit. And I don't want to. I just don't. Or I do but I'm not. And I'm beating myself up about it, which isn't helping. The more I feel upset about not writing, the more likely I am not to write, and so on. It's a vicious cycle. I think I just need to chill out and write again when I'm ready to. I don't like that I feel as if writing defines me, as if my not writing makes me less significant a person. I wrote a poem (not a good one, I have to admit ) called FRAUD a few years ago, about how insignificant I felt and how I was just faking my way through improv (I wasn't good at it, but I tried) and life (which is just too difficult to get into; too much baggage). Well, I don't think I'm a hack playwright, but it's tough, and sometimes it's tougher, and what's the point of forcing it? You do it b/c you need the money (and not many can sustain themselves that way, at least not through playwrighting) or b/c it feels fulfilling and you enjoy the process (and maybe the end result as well, the satisfaction you receive when you complete a piece). Well, that's not the case right now. It's just anxiety provoking.

So I won't write, not now. I can come back to it. Of course, I feel as if I *won't*, which is why I desperately want to enroll in a playwrighting course with structured assignments, b/c that way at least I'll have incentive to write (and assignments, of course). What if I *don't* write again for weeks, or months, or more? Does that make me a lesser person? A less interesting, less creative one? The answer is no, but it feels as if it's yes. So I struggle with my insecurities about myself and try to analyze why I'm not writing, and the end result is that I still am not writing and I'm also upset about it, compounding the problem. I must look at this like a break, not an end. I keep trying to. I hope by the time I get there, I'm ready to write again. I'll keep you posted.

Catching up on a beautiful Sunday in July

2007-07-22T02:01:00.000-11:00

And I'll be happy to read that title in a few months (hopefully more than that) when the weather is cold and my knees ache and I desperately wait for spring/summer/fall (though we don't get much spring here). Anyway, it's been a somewhat eventful month (I'd say I'd write more often, but I don't want to fool anyone reading this). To begin, my mom only has 10 more radiation treatments, thank God, and while they have been very tough on her and on my dad, the end is in sight. I PRAY I never get cancer, or anyone else in my family gets it, or anyone I know. It is such a frightening thing, and even if you catch it early enough, it still is life changing. But my mom should recover fine in a few weeks, though you never quite get over this. I have some good news on my front, though. A year ago, I was looking desperately for an apartment (or had just found one, I guess), was packing to move (it killed my back), was still in pretty serious debt, and was stressed out at work. Now I'm completely settled into my nice, sunny apartment, paid off my debt (though I am pretty far from being remotely wealth, never mind fiscally comfortable), and just got the news Friday that I'm being promoted at work (with an 11 percent raise). It was somewhat unexpected, as my supervisor, whom I like a lot, was promoted to Director of Admissions. I've always had a really funky title and job, and now my title is Director of Student Placement (I *think*, though of course there IS no Department of Student Placement). No matter; I continue to be mostly autonomous, like my supervisor, and don't have to supervise anyone except one nice administrative assistance, and only part-time. So I got lucky, and my 12 1/2 years have paid off. I was a little concerned about my security at work; now I'm not, and I could stay there for many more years, as far as I know. That feels good.

My debt is all paid off now (not easy to achieve this, but it is all gone) and particularly with the raise, I can really start saving (for those of you who know me, PLEASE remind me of this whenever I start to stray afar ;-)). I also soaked my cell phone in soapy Woolite water last week after I hand washed my yoga clothing, and it died. I was told it would cost $240 (!) to replace, but I renewed my cell phone plan, and got the phone (nearly the one I have now) for $18. No complaints there. I think my bank trouble have been resolved (at least I hope so; I've tried), and I love my 32 inch flat screen LCD TV. I hate sounding materialistic--I'm really not (see my Kia car for evidence)--but this is wonderful. It's just the right size, and the picture is so clear and sharp. I love watching Red Sox games and NetFlix movies on it. I've waited a long time for a nice TV, and after several difficulties with the cable company, all seems to have been resolved. So that's a nice feeling, too.

As for writing, well, that continues to be problemmatic, to say the least. I did write a three page, somewhat (I hope) amusing play for Asphalt Shorts in Canada, and if I get in (who knows?), I might go (it's in Kitchener, hopefully not too far from Toronto, and since a good friend lives in Buffalo, we might be able to get there). I also wrote a one page play that really isn't good for anything, but I wanted to write. But I haven't written one other thing in over a month, probably two months. Why? Lack of focus, imagination, motivation, I guess. I could pin it on the nice weather--I'd rather be outside, reading, or walking, or just relaxing--but since I have a nice seat by five bay windows, I can't use that as an excuse. Granted, it's hard to get rejected from a number of festival this month (including one I *really* wanted in Australia, for which Debbie and I were short listed) and still feel encouraged, but I did just get WEDNESDAYS into a festival in Lowell, MA (nearby, so my parents and I can go in September), so I cannot say I have been rejected by everyone, as that is simply not true. I know one way to break this--sit down and just WRITE, even for a half hour, even just drek--but I haven't been able to, so this is about as long a period as I've gone in quite some time.

I know I'll get back to writing when I'm ready to--it has happened in the past, and I've rebounded--but I do feel a bit guilty about it, particularly having one play I could revise and another idea in mind. It just feels overwhelming right now, and I'm not sure exactly why. I guess I need to be patient with myself, and when the time is right, I'll sit down and write a lot again. I hope it's soon, with Course Registration for students coming up in a few weeks. Otherwise, I'll have to wait until the fall,when things settle down. It's my choice, ultimately, so I write or I don't, and that's how it goes. I still see a fair amount of theatre--I am ushering for a show today, and another next week--and I always hope that will inspire me, though I spend an awful lot of time watching the Red Sox, and that could be time writing (I guess; a lot of the games are on after work, though, and I am typically too tired to write then, anyway). I keep wanting to just sit down and write, just work though the block or hesitation, but then I get anxious or uninspired--it almost feels painful--and I walk away. So I can't really explain this, but there you go. I'm waiting for the satisaction and fulfillment writing gives me (when I'm in the middle of a piece, usually, not beginning it) to return. I had truly hoped the class at Emerson would materialize, and I'll ask one more time in early August, but I just don't don't see work picking up most of the cost anymore, so I guess I wont' take it; $1800 is just too much for me, as I need to save the money. But last fall I was quite prolific, writing three plays in about three months (and two of them worked out well, though the third didn't), and that could happen again, with patience. A laptop would be so beneficial--sitting at Walden Pond or at the Esplanade lends itself to creativity--but that isn't goingn to happen, so I have to find other means. When they come, then they do, and I hope this time next month I can say they have.

Philosophy 101 on a humid afternoon

2007-06-27T10:47:00.000-11:00

Well, I got rejected from another festival today, the ID yada yada festival in NYC, and everyone I know who submitted (which means three people ;-)) got in. Naturally, I am disappointed, b/c who the hell isn't disappointed when rejected from a festival? If you didn't want to get in, then you wouldn't have submitted, eh? (If you don't mind being rejected from a festival--if you've reached a higher level of being--please let me know.) But I've been thinking about exactly why I feel upset when I am rejected, aside from the obvious reasons, and that's what this post is really about (I can hear a palpable sigh of relief from any of you reading this, and I don't blame you).

I think part of it has to do with the reasons I write and my expectations. I have a job that I enjoy but that does not *define* me, per se. I am not an architect, so working for a design school is rewarding b/c I intersect with students every day and am a helpful resource for them, which I find rewarding. I like my colleagues, my supervisor, the hours, the location, the stability, and so on. I am not wealthy, but I'm doing okay, and as I've noted in the past, my apartment is really nice, the best one I've ever lived in (size, location, features, etc.). So what's the problem? Well, I guess it's that I don't feel as if I fit in anywhere exactly. When you're not married or in a relationship, you *need* more (or I do, anyway). You need to feel wanted, needed, valued, and I have difficulty with this. I think writing fulfills part of my need to be creative. And yes, so much of this is process, I get it, I really do. For many people, writing is enough, in and of itself. I write so I am a writer. I am because I write, and so on. But I think validation is really important. I probably think this a lot more than I ought to, or than is healthy for me.

Knowing that this theatre business is so subjective is incredibly important, and yet that is rather intangible, whereas a festival acceptance, where you can point to the website, the festival, the date(s) and time(so) your piece will be produced, is very tangible indeed. You can take pride and satisfaction in this, you can tell others, they can be happy for you (or impressed, but I'm not foolish enough to think that a production of a 10-minute piece qualifies me as the next Edward Albee or Tom Stoppard, etal). I can also say, Well, I haven't actually written a full-length piece yet, so of course I can't have had one produced yet, and so I can't feel upset about this, b/c I have made the choice and I intend to write one sometime soon (begin one, I should say), either this fall at Emerson College, if subsidized, or through a retreat or just on my own. I don't know yet. I also know that some 10-minute play festivals are wonderful (read: the Two Spoons Teaspoon Festival in NYC) and others are not (no names). This knowledge ought to be quite enough. Festivals are nice for the theatres, the festival goers, and the playwrights, directors, and all involved, but they are not the be all, end all. I don't want to be defined by a piece I write about a mother and daughter's conflict or a woman trying to decide what to do after graduating college or a father and his late son's tumultuous relationship (though that happens to be my favorite piece, as yet unproduced). I don't want to, I know better than to be, and yet...yet...yet.

I haven't written anything new for many weeks now, aside from a two-minute piece I'm working on for a Canadian festival this fall (and I'm not holding my breath). I am not inspired, though I have a couple of ideas (a rewrite of my djay play and another one that is about infatuation but in a different way). But I can't put fingers to keyboard, and I'm not sure exactly why. I know a couple of times I've had anxiety attacks, and have countered them by leaving my apartment and going for a walk or having a hard workout (never fails to make me feel better, assuming I'm my knees or toe doesn't hurt that day). But that still results in my having written not a word, so I'm in the same place, albeit less upset. Why can't I write? Am I in a dry spell (probably)? Am I unmotivated (yes, but why)? Do I fear failure (perhaps)? I always feel as if I need to have at least one or two productions upcoming, and in fact I *do* have two productions upcoming, one in Michigan and one in Portland, OR (I will not be attending either, due to distance and lack of money). That's nice, it's great, and it's not enough. This means, of course, that it will never be enough. I will always crave more festivals, more acceptances, and I will never be satisfied with what I have and what I've done.

I think it comes back to a sense of internal satisfaction and validation. Sure, I like my friends a lot and we do interesting things (see movies, go to plays, have great conversations at cafes, etc.). I love my family and enjoy being with them (though I don't get to see my sister and niece and nephew in Florida nearly enough, and will only get to be with them briefly, if at all, when they visit in August, due to work conflicts). I just got HBO (bundled with Comcast stuff), and there are lots of fun series and documentaries and movies to watch. I am reading THE YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING by Joan Didion (depressing but lyrical), and have many other books on tap. I can walk, b/c it's summertime, of course (except the occasional day like today, when it's 95 degrees and you can pass out, the way I almost did yesterday, from spending more than five minutes at a time in the unhealthy air), and there are outdoor concerts and other activities available (as opposed to, say, winter when the weather chills you inside and out and you want to stay inside and eat and sleep). These are all good things, and more importantly my mom is, knock on wood, doing okay with her radiation treatment and the prognosis is very positive. So, honestly, what's the problem? Where does the general discontent come from? Can I overcome it?

It ain't gonna be b/c I get into a festival in Seattle (not yet) or San Diego (not yet) or San Antonio (yep, that one happened). It has to be an inner contentment. I've been seeking that inner contentment for years and years and it continues to elude me. I know the way to write is to bloody sit down and bloody type a word or phrase or anything. Besides that, well, I have to keep trying, being in the moment, as my yoga instructor (and thank GOD for yoga) Naima always says, and giving it a go each and every day. I don't know if it ever gets easier, but the alternative isn't one I want to try.

Blah la la

2007-06-03T02:01:00.000-11:00

Well, it's a cool, overcast day in Boston. I can't complain about that, b/c we had a week of wonderful weather (for me, anyway), sunny, warm and getting warmer through the week. Yesterday was actually hot and humid, with some sun, and I had a nice workout and then walked home (35 minutes). I spent the rest of the afternoon in, watching the Red Sox beat the Yankees (sweet) and then watching THE SECRET LIFE OF WORDS (not sweet; great acting by Sarah Polley, who now directs although only 28 years old, and Tim Robbins, whom I adore). I also watched OLD JOY on Friday night, a movie about paint drying--er, no, about two hippie-type guys who drive into the forest, enjoy the hot springs, and drive home. Thrilling, and yet the Boston Globe loved it. Go figure. I like indies, but only if they are compelling in some way. The former was, but it was also all over the place, with a tiday, unbelievable ending. The latter was just an exercise in nothingness. Today, I go to yoga (no class last week, due to Memorial Day, so I'm looking forward to it) and then a get together with the book clubbers. I hope it's fun. It was only so-so last time, but we haven't met for over a month, so we will have a lot to catch up on.

I am feeling pretty low these days, in pretty much all ways. Work is slow, and that never helps. I hope it picks up. I am working hard at weight loss, but it takes time, and I'm rather impatient. And then there's writing. Or lack of writing, in my case. I'm not sure if it's just the rejections I've received lately (a number of them), but I could care less about putting fingers to keyboard. My friend Shirley has been throwing out suggestions, and I've been filing them and continuing to do nothing. I know being rejected from Drekfest in Chicago was a huge disappointment. I thought a sent a really "good bad play," but apparently not bad enough, b/c a binger got in and I did not (nor did Shirley or anyone else I know who posts to the listserv). I had so hoped to go to Chicago, meet up with some other bingers and improv-types, and just get away. Now it won't happen, and I did think I had a good shot this time. I can't submit to Brown Couch, b/c you can only use one prop and a sofa, and since WEDNESDAYS has a few of them (and two are mandatory: the notebook Martha writes in to judge her dates and the tray with two cups of coffee and a cookie on it, the same thing she orders every time), Brown Couch won't take it. Now, don't get me wrong: they have over 300 entries, so my chances of getting in were pretty slim. But I did have the right kind of play for them this time--didn't have to revise it much at all, as it fit the theme--and now I can't submit it, and I tried to make it work, but I can't so it's ineligible. That hurt. Oh, and I got rejected by the Mass Arts Council yesterday. That I knew was coming, but you always hope you get lucky (the winners get $7500--I could have gone on a few writing retreats or conferences with that money). It was not to be.

When you want to write and just can't get motivated to do so, it feels like there is a major pit in my stomach. Yes, I can sit and try, but it feels like useless effort and a waste of time, and I ust don't want to. Since so much of the writing is in the process of doing it, what's the point if the process feels painful? I have gone through such periods, and they have gone away, and then I can get back to the business (though it isn't for me) of writing, but not now. I had a great time with Geralyn's podcast (go to http://glhorton.podomatic.com/ for my evening and many by Geralyn and others), but it didn't inspire me to write more (go figure). I am even sleeping pretty well, now that I had my medication revamped, but...nothing. I continue to hope that Emerson works out (not only that I can take the fall class but that it actually *runs*, which might not happen), b/c that will force me to write, and sometimes I need that. But for now, the well has run dry. I am very happy that THE SATCHEL is doing well at the Lakeshore Players festival in MN (according to Claudia, who also is directing a piece) and I look forward to seeing it in Framingham, MA in a few weeks, but...it isn't helping. I don't want to write. I don't really want to do anything, aside from work out and listen to the new Maroon 5 CD (very good). Yes, this, too, shall pass, and all I can do is wait it out. If I had somewhere to go to just chill out, that would help, I bet, but I don't so it won't. Thank God my mom does not have to have any more surgery, though she is still recovering from the first pass and the pain and the emotions that accompany the cancer diagnosis, and she has every right to feel this way. I won't say I don't--I can't entirely control it--but it's nearly summer and I want to feel happier. I want to, and I will, but it's not fun being in the middle of it. Maybe I will have more upbeat news next time.