Thumbs…

Here’s a dilemma I’ve never faced before: I volunteered to be on the writer selection committee of my playwrights’ group and the first person’s work I read was lacking in many, many ways. My first reaction was thumbs down. The dialogue, characters, plot and storytelling all needed major work (in both pieces that were submitted), and I pointed out to my fellow committee members that we weren’t in the business of teaching basic playwriting.

But then I started considering this writer’s personal qualities… even-tempered, has the ability to give constructive feedback. Now if someone were an ogre, I would count that against them, and no matter how talented they are, I wouldn’t want them wrecking havoc on our group. So if someone is pleasant, thoughtful and has helpful insights (even with a blind eye towards their own script – which can be true of most of us writers, ho ho ho!)… should that tip the scales in their favor?

Then someone on the committee wondered if we could ask for a rewrite, giving the writer some of our feedback, to see if improvement in the work were possible. That seems like a workable solution… and isn’t just a thumbs up / thumbs down thing, although the feedback has to be open-ended enough that we’re not making the writer conform to how WE want the play to be. The extreme version of this would be Hollywood studio executives man-handling a script with a million notes so the writer’s vision and voice are completely compromised if not lost.

The other extreme would be saying “Sure, c’mon and join us!” and not having the guts to say no just because we’re too polite and don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings.

Discussion to ensue, no doubt, as we balance what’s best for this writer and for the group…

Show of hands…

Throwing it open to the bloggers and any readers who want to weigh in – how about we take these gems of wisdom we’ve been writing in this space and collect them into a book? Let’s see a show of hands… (in the comments section).

Secondly, how should we determine what goes in? Should we pick our own top five? And then appoint an evaluation team? Or throw the selection process open to voting by the bloggers?

Finally, is anyone besides the bloggers reading these postings? Show of hands (down there in the comments section)?

Thanks!

And now relax and enjoy a little winter wonderland… and let us be thankful we’re not shoveling it or driving in it.

Kings Canyon, March 2010

Zen this, Brainiac

It was a tough morning today, I alternated between crying and trying not to cry. In the scheme of things, this is fairly small, but still.

A few years ago I wrote several articles for eHow.com, which is owned by Demand Media. I was paid a modest weekly amount and expected to churn out 10 articles a week. After cranking out 70 articles, I and another writer complained. We proposed paying us per article instead of a flat rate because to make the rate be better than minimum wage, you really had to whip out the how-to article in half-hour – and that was REALLY tough. The company’s response? They let both of us go (and kept the non-complainers).

The upside of all of this was I would get royalties (hooray) on each article, depending on how many people viewed it. So for a few years, I was getting a bit of cash deposited into my PayPal Account from Demand Media (I’m talking $25 – $40 a month, but still, it adds up).

A year and a half ago, I got a letter from Demand Media stating they were ending the royalty program. I could get a one time payout (a modest amount) and leave the articles up on their site or take them elsewhere. I chose to take the payout and figured I could still enjoy the whoo hoo factor of having my by-line out there.

Imagine my surprise / dismay / rage / betrayal today when I happened to look up one of my old articles and there, instead of my byline, was someone else’s. Apparently this other writer (who goes by the moniker “Brainiac” – really??) had “updated” the article this past May and now his or her byline is on MY article. I looked through the article, it’s still mine – I’m not even sure what the heck Brainiac changed. I’m sure in the piece of paper I signed I gave up the rights to my articles, but this is still wrong.

I felt as if I’d been stabbed in the heart by some thief’s pen. Yes, I’ve written a complaint to eHow. Their email address is support@ehow.zendesk.com. I’m not feeling very zen about this at all.

Ten Words or Less

The LA Times featured a brief interview with theatre director Michael Matthews on September 21st. He’s the director of the current production at The Celebration Theatre, What’s Wrong with Angry?

This caught my eye:  he said in college, he and his classmates were given this exercise to do for every show they directed –

1. Describe in 10 words or less what happens in the play
2. In 10 words or less tell what the play is about
3. Then in 10 words or less tell what the play means to you

I thought these were great questions for writers, too.  Enjoy!

Vermont Part III / L.A. Part I

I just finished my rewrites on Shelby’s Vacation. This is the power of a good reading combined with time and distance away from the script so I could actually see the forest and the trees of the script, so to speak.   

Vermont Part II

I’m several minutes in to the reading of my script Shelby’s Vacation (see previous entry) and something’s gnawing at me. Why is this woman on vacation? I’m asking as an audience member. I’m feeling the need to know. Then suddenly my writer brain kicks in (not to be confused with my reptilian brain), and I suddenly remember: a scene is missing.

Fortunately, this didn’t derail the whole reading. What was going on in the present was engaging, I cared about who was onstage and their relationships and wasn’t worried about the past.

The next day, on a sunny porch (with 117 acres of woodland behind me and a pond made for taking a dip in front of me), I calmly chatted with the director and asked about the missing scene. He apologized and said he couldn’t figure out a way to stage it but would try and work something out for that night’s performance. He was a genius at all the other scenes so I was surprised this one scene tripped him up.

That night… the scene was missing again. In the Q & A with the audience afterwards, one fellow mentioned he had trouble following Shelby’s boss in a scene near the end where she’s talking about her upcoming wedding. Mmmhmm. I politely mentioned there was a scene that hadn’t been read that would have set it up. The director spoke up and said this was his fault.

There was so much that was funny and sharp and relatable and touching about the reading, I actually wasn’t angry about the missing scene. It seemed not worth having my reptilian brain go on the attack. And the fact that an audience member missed it, well, that was confirmation it needed to be there. The director asked (not during the Q & A on stage) if that scene is in the script, then wouldn’t it stop Shelby from fantasizing about her boss? The boss is no longer available. Good question.

No, she would still fantasize for awhile – it’s hard to let those things go, even when your fantasy person is off the market. And that happens to be the journey of the play – she learns to live in the present.

The same cannot be said of me. Part of me is still in Vermont.

Vermont, Part I

Sorry for the delay in posting this week – I had a cool excuse: I was in Vermont for a reading of my script Shelby’s Vacation. It’s is a movie script not a play, but it still falls under the heading of Wonderfulness For a Writer, so I thought I’d share a little of Nancy’s Vacation with you.

I’d entered the script in a Chicago contest called Pride Films & Plays (as in, yes, gay pride) and then had the good fortune to end up in the semi-finals of that wingding AND be picked for a new “pride” script reading event at the Chandler Music Hall in Randolph, Vermont. Both of the events were set up and run by the fabulous David Zak. I can say he’s fabulous not just because he picked my script but because I’ve now met him in person. He had the inspiration to create these shindigs, the left-brain skills to organize them and as an added bonus, he had the directorial skills to pull off a movie experience on stage – no small feat considering there were with multiple locations and a fairly large cast.

It’s pretty easy for me to enjoy hiking in lush woodlands (cue up Rogers & Hart: “In our mountain greenery where God paints the scenery…”), sample maple syrup and homemade cheese, and get into the rhythm of small-town life (even Burlington and Montpelier seemed small town),but hallelujah, I took away some insights from the reading.

It had been two years since I heard Shelby’s Vacation, so I’d forgotten some of the scenes, certainly the order of them, and most importantly, the impact of them. I had fresh ears, fresh eyes, and I was like a real audience member – hey, what’s coming next and do I care about what’s happening?

My current writers’ group does not allow us to bring in movie scripts, only plays, hence, I hadn’t brought this script in for the actors to read during the past two years. Who knew this would be to my benefit by giving me distance and perspective??

One scene I’d added to the most recent draft actually showed in flashback the motivation of the main character – why she was taking this much-needed vacation. She’d been fantasizing about her boss too much – and in the crucial flashback we see her boss Marion showing off an engagement ring – she was going to get married, crushing our heroine’s fantasy life (in my movie world, lesbians are actually allowed to marry in California).

Due to some logistics issues, the director chose not to have this flashback staged or read. Without consulting me.

Did this matter? Was the writer upset? Did the director apologize?

Stay tuned for part II!

Lanford

I want to give a nod to playwright Lanford Wilson, who passed away March 24. He was one of my guiding lights, especially when I was first trying to write plays. In high school, the playwright I was most familiar with was Neil Simon. What can I say, I did a lot of speech tournaments and used cuttings from his plays. As I got a little older I read Tennessee Williams and Shakespeare and Eugene O’Neill, as we all did. Stuff to admire but I couldn’t imagine writing like any of those folks. But then I discovered Lemon Sky and This is the Rill Speaking and Talley’s Folly and The Fifth of July by Lanford Wilson. Plays filled with people who seemed relatable and real. Plays crafted in a way that seemed that maybe if I put my nose to the grindstone I could emulate them.

Well, I ended up not writing like Lanford Wilson, either, as you can imagine, but he gave me hope and something to shoot for.

I went to see his Burn This at the Taper last Saturday. I can’t say I “grog” the character of Pale nor root for his relationship with Anna, but there were other moments that pulled me in – the pain of being at a funeral where the relatives don’t know or won’t admit the deceased is gay, the push-pull of writing a big, commercial screenplay versus something more human and intimate. So the play wasn’t perfect, but it was still a worthy effort. Thank you, Lanford.

Here are other tributes to him by people who knew him intimately, if you want to see how profoundly he touched others’ lives: 

http://www.playbill.com/features/article/150064-Remembering-Lanford-Wilson-Colleagues-Reflect-About-the-Playwright/all

Gut Reaction

Went to see Jane Anderson’s thought-provoking and funny The Escort last week at The Geffen. The basic storyline is a female gynecologist meets a call girl (“A priest, a rabbi and a minister walk into a bar and…” sorry, I couldn’t resist…) and ends up learning where she stands when it comes to her own sexual beliefs and just how open-minded she really is. It makes the audience think, too, presumably, if they’re willing.

I bring it up because in the second act, the call girl did something that made my stomach muscles tighten. No, it didn’t involve sex toys. She asked the gynecologist if she could keep a photo of the doctor’s teenaged son. It didn’t seem in character plus it seemed like a big red flag of a plot point to be used later. Sure enough, it was.

Then even later in the second act, the doctor and her ex-husband got all worked up (again, not in a sex act…) and took a decisive action. My stomach muscles were all in a bunch, the decision seemed forced.

I try and pay attention to my stomach muscles at my own play readings and performances, but it’s harder because I don’t often have the distance that I have when I’m seeing someone else’s play, especially if I’m hearing it for the first time. But seeing Jane’s play – which I liked in spite of my stomach muscle moments, and I’m a huge fan of her work in general – reminded me how important it is to pay attention to my gut reaction.

Hmmm… maybe I can market this as The Playwrights’ Workout: “Build better plays and stronger abs all at the same time…”

Happy Anniversary, baby, got you on my miiiiind….

I don’t know how far we’ve come. It’s hard to measure when you’re in the smack in middle of something.

But an initiative was born. Heat was generated. Actions have been taken.

We have our study (thank you again Ella Martin and all who queried and compiled) and its oh-Lord-we-have-more-work-to-do results… http://lafpi.com/about/the-study/

Theatres have been put on notice that we’re paying attention.

Speeches have been made at award shows, articles have been written and circulated.

And this blog was started a year ago, April 19, 2010.

Even though I haven’t gotten to gather in person with the LAFPI gang in many months due to my schedule conflicts (I do plan on making the May 15^th picnicky thing!), I definitely have felt a sense of community as we write and share the journey of being playwrights here in da blog.

It feels better when you’re going through something together. Here’s to the next year of blogging, playwriting, initiating, activating, and makin’ more noise… together.