March 21

I would like you to know that being a playwright is 30% rewarding, 10% lying on the floor doing nothing, 38% worrying about money, 5% theater gossip, 25% conversations with interesting people over cocktails, 9% made up statistics, and 55% a constant scheduling nightmare.

9 out of 9 playwrights agree.

(When I say “you,” I confess I don’t actually know who you are. I know my mom reads this blog, and my fiancé, and Ellen the development director at Pig Iron, and some playwrights I have run into claim to have read it (MacArthur “Genius Grant” Award Winner Brandon Jacobs-Jenkins, just as one example) BUT HAVE THEY READ THE WHOLE THING? DO THEY HANG ON EVERY WORD I SAY?)


Scheduling is frustrating and I would like to complain about it right now because unexpressed emotions can make you sad or anxious or neurotic or psychotic or a manic pixie dream girl.

I don’t enjoy scheduling.

There. I said it. Now I’m emotionally free.

When playwrights get together, we have illuminating late night conversations about mortality and politics and race, and we also complain about scheduling.

Currently, we are scheduling a May workshop at the Tilma (not its real name). There have been rocks, jagged rocks, negotiations, compromises, and actor conflicts – and director conflicts – and playwright conflicts – someone was going on vacation but then lo, miracle of miracles, changed his plans – one actor is available except for an entire rehearsal day – but we probably need that rehearsal day – hmm – if we move the workshop to August will it work? No? How about a different week in May? No? Ok how about back to the original date with a different cast? Ok now this other actor has been eaten by a dragon – wait but no but it’s just his leg – do we need the actors to have legs? Now two more actors have died, also from dragons. Ok, we’re all set, we have cast the dragons instead. Wait, now all the dragons in the American theater are unavailable, they’ve just been called in for a TV audition.

It’s just how it is, but it’s not ideal. Especially when your goal is to write something for a specific ensemble.

It’ll be great, I’m sure. But also, pray for us.


March 6, 2017

I recently learned by reading The Atlantic that I am doing this blog all wrong. Did you know top tier mommy bloggers can earn between 1 – 6 MILLION dollars a year?

In the hopes of gaining corporate sponsorship, I am going to refer to my play as my son in this post.

“Me” and “my son”

Being a mom, as you all know, can be tiring. I have been raising my son for at least a year now, and have pegged lots of hopes and dreams on his success. So I decided to go on vacation for a month, in foreign countries, with my loving partner, while leaving my son at home.

That’s my son, crying like a girl. But he soon got over it. I missed him at first, but soon I had so much fun swimming with a sea turtle and bathing in a river of hot springs that I stopped really thinking about it. I relaxed. Time apart can be really good for all relationships. When I come back to him in the next week or two, I’m sure I will look at him with fresh eyes and new love. I expect this distance will also grant me a greater awareness of his faults, which will help me to resume dispassionately but generously molding him into exactly what I want him to be.