That's a line from an Ariana Grande song that I'm obsessed with. I listen to it when I'm spinning or in the gym. I listen to it when I'm writing and I need to liberate myself somehow. I'm often trying to pump myself up somehow to get to the gym or to sit in front of the computer and write. More often than not, it's hard to muster up the courage to write or do anything productive.
My friends will say that I am a pretty productive guy and I get things done. They'll say that this self-depricating stuff is bullshit - that I'm a beast when it comes to getting shit done. And that's partially true. I am so aware of the Resistance and I try to overcome it that the energy translates into productivity. When procrastination and worry and fear - the agents of Resistance - are around, you have to take them seriously. They are formidable opponents. So I am aware of how hard it is to create work and how much of a miracle it is when it happens.
And when you're productive, something magical happens. The muse shows up. But it's the routine action of showing up that gets her to show up. Last year, I wrote a play that people liked. I had developed it with a local theatre and I had a series of readings, culminating in a big one in September. Once people started saying things like "this is going to get produced" or "someone's going to do this play", I put plugs in my ears and ran away. There was such a high expectation for this thing I had created. So I walked into my writer's group and I brought in pages for a new play.
Much to my surprise, that was well-received. Then I finished the play at the end of February. I gave it to the head of the writer's group to have him read it. Then the theatre committed to a summer workshop. And they asked me to join the company.
That workshop happened this month. And the reading happened yesterday. I've been working on this play pretty hard during the past week. That's why I've been doing my K Spa Writing Tour for the past week. I knew that I had to bring it. There were notes and suggestions my actors made and I knew that if I didn't make the proper changes, I was going to be angry at myself. I can't sit in an audience thinking about the things I should have changed.
My director sent me an email today saying that she heard the play as if it was for the first time yesterday. That sums up perfectly how I felt. I don't know what happened. But it felt like a blur. From the jump, there was something magical and exciting about that reading. We worked with our lead actor for an hour on Friday just on the opening monologue. I knew that if we didn't nail that moment, then we wouldn't have had our audience. I knew we needed an hour to work with him - and thankfully, we were all available. Once we ran through the monologue - and the actors started coming in for their call time for rehearsal - I could hear it. I knew that we had something. And I knew that with an audience, it would be on fire.
We had a packed house. About 50 or so people. We only had 24 people RSVP'd to come. I was hoping that people would show up. And they did, in huge numbers. All of a sudden, I looked around and felt like I needed to grab a seat or I wasn't going to have one. And just like that, we were off to the races. And our lead actor nailed it. He had the audience in the palm of his hand. The scenes were fast and lean. The performances were high octane. The laughs were big. And the emotions were big too. I don't think we timed it, but there's no way that was over 90 minutes. And if it was, it flew.
When it was all over, the audience cheered. I turned to my friends, who said they were proud of me. And then I lost it and cried my eyes out. I couldn't stop crying for what felt like two minutes. I just released all of it. I cried because my friends were there and they were proud of me. That means everything. It's also the thing I sought from my Dad and I couldn't get from him. So for my friends to so openly tell me how much they loved it and love me…that was enough for me to cry like a baby. Fortunately, that was all broken up when we needed to take a cast photo.
But then…my best friend David came up to me with tears in his eyes. David lost his mom this year. And he said it felt so familiar. And he told me he was proud of me. I lost it again. I cried in his arms. We cried in each other's arms. Then he said the magic words, "And it was fucking funny." I had nailed the emotional stuff, but the play works because it's so funny too. I had a few exchanges like that with people who got emotional. I'm so glad the play touches people. And then I started hearing predictions, which are aways flattering and way nice. But it also makes me freak out.
Does that mean it's time to start on something new? I don't know. I have no ideas. I'm taking a different approach this time. I'm going to lean into it. This play should be done everywhere. It should have a big world premiere somewhere. I would love our theatre company to do it, but it might involve a lot of hoop jumping to figure out a way for us to do it. It's not a natural fit for our site specific theatre company. But there might be ways for it to work. The thing I don't want to do is force a square peg into a round hole and hurt the play.
Something happened to me in the writing of this play. I can honestly say I would not have been ready to write this play until now. I can feel myself getting better as a playwright through writing this play. The play I wrote last year also had this effect on me. As epic as that play was, this play is so deeply personal. Last year's play is amazing because it does so much and there's a play within a play inside of it. It takes huge leaps. And I took even bigger leaps on this play. I thought I was ready before. I am ready now. This is the person I want to present to the world.
My intention is to take a leap.
My intention is to take a leap.
My intention is to take a leap.
I am grateful for the support of all of my friends.
I am grateful for the love.
I am grateful for my friend David who makes me feel loved.
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