All posts by Kitty Felde

About Kitty Felde

Award-winning public radio journalist, writer, and TEDx speaker Kitty Felde hosts the Book Club for Kids podcast, named by The Times of London as one of the top 10 kidcasts in the world. The Los Angeles native created the Washington bureau for Southern California Public Radio and covered Capitol Hill for nearly a decade, explaining how government works to grownups. Now she explains it to kids in a series of mystery novels and podcasts called The Fina Mendoza Mysteries. Kitty was named LA Radio Journalist of the Year three times by the LA Press Club and the Society of Professional Journalists.

Playwrights blind date

Last weekend, I was invited to participate in what was billed as a playwrights blind date. Twenty of us gathered at the Jewish Community Center library, sitting in chairs around the room. Facing us was a dramaturg, producer, or director. And in four minutes, we had the opportunity to get to know each other, to see if we “clicked.” The rules were: don’t pitch your plays, just get to know each other.

I now remember why I hated dating. That need to present our best selves, smarter, prettier, more facile than anyone else in the room. Yuck.

My husband chided me for not preparing an elevator speech – a fifteen second pitch of my stuff. I should have listened. Everyone kept asking what my “theatrical aesthetic” was. Hell if I know. I couldn’t even describe my plays. They’re not similar at all – a melodrama, a musical about baseball, a courtroom drama about war crimes, a ten minute comedy set in a ladies room. I’m not sure there’s even a theme that runs through my work. Perhaps for the dramas it’s the Rodney King question: “can’t we all just get along?” But how do you explain the romantic comedies?

Have you been able to nail down your “theatrical aesthetic”? Willing to share it here?

A playwright’s bill of rights

I’m going to share a conversation DC playwright Gwydion Suilebhan just posted on Facebook. He heard from a UK playwright that writers in Britain came up with a playwright’s bill of rights. Gwydion took suggestions from folks here in Washington and came up with his own list. I offer it here…and ask what do you think? Needed? Or just gripes? Or do you have ideas of your own to add? Are there items the LAFPI constituency thinks are missing?

Submissions: Nuts and Bolts
1. No playwright should ever receive a rejection letter that begins with anything that resembles “Dear [INSERT NAME OF PLAYWRIGHT HERE]” or that’s addressed to the wrong person.
2. No playwright should ever receive a rejection letter that includes a significant misspelling, either of the playwright’s name or the title of the play.
3. Theaters, development programs, and contests should standardize on what constitutes a play sample: 10 pages, 15 pages, 20 pages. Playwrights prefer a longer sample, but standardization is of paramount importance.
4. Theaters, development programs, and contests should abandon any other esoteric submission requirements: demands that several different files be combined into a single PDF, or that an extra title page be created, or that bios be limited to a random number of words. Again, a standard set of requirements should be adopted.
5. No playwright should be asked for a letter of reference in support of an application or submission.
6. Theaters, development programs, and contests everywhere should immediately stop asking for paper submissions; all submissions can and should be handled electronically.
7. No theater, development program, or contest should ask for submission fees of any kind.

Submissions: Selection Criteria
1. All submissions for development programs and contests should be blind submissions; plays should be judged on their own merits, not on any other criteria.
2. All submissions for theaters should also be blind during the first round of review and selection.
3. No theater, development program, or contest should inquire as to the educational status of a playwright, nor should that status ever be used as a criterion for submissions.
4. Theaters should replace the “never before produced scripts only” criteria with a less restrictive “no more than two prior productions” criteria.
5. Playwrights should be allowed to re-submit scripts when substantial revisions have been completed.

Submissions: Transparency
1. All submissions for theaters, development programs, and contests should be as transparent as possible.
2. Theaters, development programs, and contests should publish the names and bios of judges, reviewers, and script readers prior to opening submissions.
3. Playwrights should have access to any reader’s reports.
4. To whatever extent possible, theaters, development programs, and contests should indicate why a given play has or has not been selected after it has received extensive consideration.

Submissions: Best Practices
1. Theaters, development programs, and contests should respond to every submission. It is not acceptable to let silence stand in for a courteous rejection.
2. Theaters, development programs, and contests should publish a maximum turnaround time for review of submissions and be held accountable to the dates they publish.

Nomenclature
1. No more infantile language should be used to describe play development: no cradles, no incubators, no hatcheries.
2. The term “emerging” (as in “she’s an emerging playwright”) should be eliminated immediately.

General
1. More playwrights should be considered for artistic director positions.
2. A higher percentage of plays produced in any given geographic area should be written by playwrights who live in that geographic area than is currently the case.
3. More theaters nationwide should have playwrights on staff, or at least in long-tenured resident dramatist positions.
4. More theaters nationwide should add playwrights to their artistic advisory boards.

Of course, he adds, that Dramatists Guild members have their own bill of rights…

I look forward to hearing your thoughts!

Why we write

I read (in my latest edition of the Theodore Roosevelt Association Journal) Roosevelt’s review of an obscure book called “John Gilley, Maine Farmer and Fisherman” by Charles William Eliot. TR said he was “immensely pleased” with the “little book.” He says, “it seems to me pre-eminently worthwhile to have such a biography of a typical American. How I wish President Elliot could write in the same shape biographies of a brakeman or railroad locomotive engineer, of an ordinary western farmer, of a carpenter or blacksmith in one of our small towns, of a storekeeper in one of our big cities, of a miner – of half a dozen typical representations of the forgotten millions who really make up American life.”

Roosevelt goes on to muse about immortality. “It makes small odds to any of us after we are dead whether the next generation forgets us, or whether a number of generations pass before our memory, steadily growing more and more dim, at last fades into nothing. On this point it seems to me that the only important thing is to be able to feel, when our time comes to go out into the blackness, that those survivors who care for us and to whom it will be a pleasure to think well of us when we are gone, shall have that pleasure. Save in a few wholly exceptional cases, cases of men such as are not alive at this particular time, it is only possible in any event that a comparatively few people can have this feeling for any length of time.”

And therein lies our gift as playwrights: to create living, breathing characters of what some might call ordinary people, the un-famous. And we are able to give them immortality, living long after we are gone, long after the people who inspired those characters in the first place are gone. It makes us gods of sorts, creating human beings and turning them loose on the world.

Who says playwrights have no power?

Dig that out of the trash can

I can’t recall who said it originally or who it was that repeated it to me, but some wise writer once said you’re not allowed to throw out bad writing until you’ve shared it with someone else.
We’re our own worst critics, snarky and nit picky, embarrassed by our work, hiding it until we think it’s properly “cooked” and ready to serve to an audience. Even if that audience is your own writing group.
I’ve finally found a wonderful group of writers here in DC and our “assignment” was to bring in the final scene of the play we’re working on. Even if you haven’t written a word for any other scene in the play. I’ve been struggling with my LA riots play for ten years now. It haunts me. And since this spring marks the 20th anniversary, I know I’ve got to finish it. So I gave a stab to the assignment, trying to write that scene that I’ve been avoiding forever.
It was awful. Hide your face in a paper bag awful. Repeated sentences, facts out of order, wierd entrances, and worst of all, no resolution. I knew it was awful and spent weeks trying to “fix” it. Finally, I decided to stop looking at it and just not bring anything in to my group. Chicken!
But Sunday morning, I asked myself what I had to lose? This was a new group of people. If they thought ill of me and my work, did it really matter? Would they tell the whole town what a lousy writer I was?
I printed out the pages, handed them out, and confessed I hadn’t really completed the assignment. The scene was a problem. So there.
Listening to it read out loud, I could see where my fellow writers were interested, confused, amused. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. And those generous writers put their clever heads together and offered me a way out of my conundrum. It wasn’t one last scene, it was a series of scenes trying to squeeze into that last scene. Let it breathe.
But most of all, their enthusiasm for this badly written piece of work, wanting to know the characters, the rest of the story, helped me regain my confidence about the work. It wasn’t awful. Just a work in progress.
So my advice for the day: courage fellow writers. Be brave enough to share the rotten work with people you trust. There may be seeds there that can grow into something even more wonderful than you imagined it in the first place.

Writing here, writing there – by Kitty Felde

It was nice to have two complete weeks in Maine, sitting by a lake, listening to the loons, dodging a hurricane, picking tomatoes and beans from the garden, drinking wine, swimming every morning, and writing. And writing.

What a blessing to not have to ‘feed the beast’ as we say in news, always on the lookout for a story, trying to catch up with a story you should have reported yesterday, making calls for tomorrow’s story. And squeezing in maybe 90 minutes of writing time on exactly what YOU want to write.

I’m in LA this week for a grammar school reunion (!) and a check in with the home office, but haven’t typed a word. But I will. I have five characters bugging me to tell the rest of their story. They get so impatient! They don’t understand that it’s important for the writer to visit her favorite farmers market where “industry” folks talk shop as they wait for their breakfast burrito, where she’ll run into an old friend having a tough year, and where finally, she’ll come home with heirloom tomatoes and peaches and basil for a family party on Labor Day. Those characters don’t understand why the writer needs a nap or needs to get her nails done for that grammar school reunion. They keep saying, “what about OUR reunion?”

Okay, guys. One quick nap and I’ll be back at the keyboards. Promise.

Stitching a play together – by Kitty Felde

I am finding a relationship between my twin passions: playwriting and sewing. One involves visual puzzle pieces that are stitched together. The other involves character puzzles and pattern pieces of plot.

I came to Maine earlier this month to puzzle out act two of my LA riots/Kenya play, not to sew. But that sewing side of my brain started calling me. It might just be the need to do something creative using my hands, not a keyboard

So I started reading sewing blogs. And fell in love with this one: a British gal who does amazing things with thrift store finds.
http://charityshopchic.wordpress.com/
She gives herself permission to take things apart, discard what’s soiled or not needed, and create something fun and new. It’s that giving yourself permission that’s so important.

And by the way, it also sent me out to the local Goodwill where I spent $20 on five garments that I’ve totally taking apart! (at night, of course, AFTER my writing day…)

Writing lessons from young adult literature – by Kitty Felde

There’s a wonderful quote in Lisa Scottoline’s review of the new novel “Plugged” by Eoin Colfer. She says, “like any great fictional character, he is what he does.” Boy, is that true for drama!

I’m as guilty as most, my characters do more talking than doing. Not to say they need to scale mountains and fight wizards onstage. But they need to constantly be doing something emotionally. What do they want and what are they doing to get it?

I know Eoin Colfer’s work from his young adult novels. We read ”Artemis Fowl” in my Book Club of the Air for Young Adults, a show that ran on LA Cable 36 where a trio of middle schoolers discuss YA literature. (http://la36.granicus.com/MediaPlayer.php?view_id=26&clip_id=1000Great fun.) In “Artemis,” Colfer’s characters were always DOING something. But he also created an entire universe, with its own rules and villains and quests.

I really like YA literature. David Almond’s “Skellig” is one of my favorites. He creates a character in a ramshackle garage that may be a cranky old man. Or an owl. Or a bird. Or something else. The young hero of the story keeps the creature alive with beer and take-out Chinese food. He decides he HAS to as his way of keeping his prematurely born little sister alive. Such invention! A real page-turner! And full of rich, emotional depth.

Which makes me think about expanding my universe of writing inspirations. I read and see as many plays as I can every month. But rarely am I truly blown away, transported to a really imaginative place where I cry and laugh and am haunted by words and images for days. That happens often when I’m reading YA literature. Why is this? Is it because YA books are short, to the point, aimed at an audience that demands to be wowed, an audience whose raging hormones make emotional outbursts a daily fact of life? That’s what I want to capture and put onstage.
Which is why I’m heading over to the YA section of the library to see what’s new.

Hurricanes and other natural disasters by Kitty Felde

I’m a southern California girl. I know earthquakes and brush fires. I don’t know hurricanes.

But I was up in Maine for two blissful weeks of vacation – nothing but reading, eating, swimming in a lake, sitting, and writing. I’m working on rewriting act two of a play that’s been haunting me for ten years. More on that later in the week. But we were supposed to drive back south to DC on Saturday. That didn’t happen, thanks to Irene.

Friday was an absolutely perfect day! Warm temperatures, blue skies, you could smell the pine trees. The sun glistened on the lake. Hard to imagine the storm coming. By Saturday, you had this feeling you should be DOING something. Preparing somehow. So I drove into town to buy a battery for the flashlight and a power converter to run my laptop from the car’s cigarette lighter. (A true writer: can’t live without her laptop!) I made soup and chocolate pudding – to nourish the soul. We put away the plastic lawn furniture and took down the hanging plants and wind chimes. And we waited. And waited.

Finally, Irene arrived Sunday morning, first with rain, then with wind, then with wind and rain, and finally, just a bit more wind. Inland Maine got hit hard. We spent the day with friends, eating pasta and playing Crazy Eights.
It’s a nice metaphor for playwriting: that big idea that grows and grows, both scaring you to death and exciting something deep inside you. It takes its dear, sweet time developing, moving slowly towards you. You spend your time preparing – research, note cards, writing in longhand, making notes to yourself on the Iphone, freewriting – doing SOMETHING until it arrives. And then it does – you’re in the midst of the writing, full of excitement and terror. That new play makes you feel ALIVE! And then, all too soon, it’s over. It gets produced or a reading and your emotional brain is already preparing for the next creative storm.

Perhaps the National Hurricane Center can help me with titles when I sit down to write my next “hurricane.”

Day Three: Playwrights in Mind: A National Conversation – part four?

What will it take to have gender parity in America?  Julia Jordan says lots of local, grassroots groups are springing up – like LAFPI.  Collectively, they hold a lot of power.  But not as much as artistic directors.  They have the power to break the cycle.  Look at the Blackburn Award winners and runners up who’ve never had a production.  AD’s can aggressively go out there and decide to produce work by women and they won’t be hurt artistically or economically.

Sheri Wilner says AD’s are choosing playwrights not plays.  We need to raise their conscience – take it to the streets and ticketbuyers.

Laura Shamas says she spent a year going to nothing but plays by women.  If someone asks her to resubscribe to a theatre season, she says “no” unless they’ll do more shows by women.  Economic information.

What can I do if I live in a tiny town?  Jordan says it’s almost a PR war.  You’d be hard pressed to find an artistic director who doesn’t know the “right” answer when it comes to the question of playwrights of color.  Not so with gender.  Add to the conversation with those artistic directors, this is something people have thought about and there IS a right answer.  The numbers are so glaring, it cannot be ignored.  Write letters, don’t give them your money.  And it’s not just playwriting.  It’s about all the arts, beyond the arts. 

Sheri says there should be a wider net.  A study looked at children’s books: 33% have a lead female character; 100% have lead male characters.  We need to start early.

Laura says we were so inspired in LA by the east coast work, they did their own study, there’s a listing of plays by women on the website, and a blog as well.  Start a festival!  Address it creatively.  There are LAFPI “agents” who reach out to theatres to ask, “how can we get you to consider more plays by female playwrights.  Mixers.  You can do this in your hometown.  You’d be surprised what you can do with some cocktails. 

Marsha Norman says every woman has to help another woman.  There’s an infinite amount of “antelope” out there – we can be in the business of generosity.  Why do the stories of women need to be told?  Not just because they’re stories of women.  We need to hear the stories of all the people here on earth if we’re to live here with any semblance of compassion and understanding.  Every story that’s there to be told has to find its way to the stage.  People in power have to stop telling the same damn story again and again on the American stage.  We also have to get our own body of work done.  And make it possible for people to come after us.

When Primary Stages did a season of plays by women, it was their lowest grossing season…it was also the season after the market crash.  But did women get blamed for bad sales?  Playwrights Horizons did really well with female playwrights.  Last year, nearly 40% of the plays in NYC were by women, and many were hits.

How about cross-discipline boycotts?  Dancers boycotting theatres that don’t do plays by women.  Is there a Dramatists Guild policy on gender parity?  Marsha said if that’s what’s needed, we’ll do it.

Marsha says the “afraid” part is a huge part of it.  Be not afraid.  Because what?  It’s gonna get worse?  Her two Broadway producers kept asking whether she’d seen any Tony nominated shows.  She said no.  “In a season where’s no work by women, I’m not going.”  Our mouths have to open.  Create an organization, be the artists telling stories who go to the White House. 

Parity: Julie says she met with funding organization who told her what they did for writers of color.  No quotas.  Instead said, “we just want to see the numbers…how many did you produce…just for our own information.”  Suddenly more works by writers of color were getting done.  Something similar could be down the line for women.  It starts with data, which is being compiled now and being available for anyone who wants them.

Day Three: Playwrights in Mind: A National Conversation – part three

Self-Production Primer: Team Building – Roland Tec

Roland’s rules about producing:

The biggest challenge: writing is solitary.  In order to become an effective producer, fight against natural tendency to hide in the corner.  Producing is about gathering people together, getting a team of people to work at their peak.  Producing is a creative act.

Get a notebook.  Takes notes.  The minute you start producing, every conversation moves it forward – or back.  Take notes on every email, meeting, etc.  Time is in short supply.  Follow up quickly and effectively. 

The “all in” rule: when you’re sending someone an email or leaving a phone message, include all the necessary information.  Otherwise you slow down what needs to get done. 

Clarify your goals: what’s your objective for this production?  Is your goal to break even?  Have a commercial success?  If you don’t know before you begin, hard to access your success at the end.

Find a producing partner.  You can’t write and produce at the same time. 

We often think: who can help?  Ask another question: how can every person in my life help?  Everyone can offer something to the production.  Find the right thing they can do.  Some it may be money. Others may introduce you to other people.  Others will be your greatest cheerleader.  Or a great actor.  Or teaches at a university and can get you student interns.  Start thinking about finding ways in which the people in your world can become involved in your dream.

Scheduling: can’t start without your director.  You want to make sure you have the right director, one who understands your show.  If you have any reservations, keep looking.

Pre-production tasks: (2-6 months) Book the venue, raise the funds, hire the cast and publicist and crew (when hiring crew, delegate whenever possible – let your lighting designer hire everybody else in lighting, etc.), sign and file all union and legal paperwork, obtain the insurance.

Production tasks: rehearsing to performance level, build set and costumes, loading in, hanging and focusing the lights, rolling out the PR in all its forms (press release must drop at least six weeks prior to first performance), box office (never too early to start taking people’s money) and house management

Post: pay bills, strike set, return borrowed materials, assemble a clippings book (good press agent will do this for you, but they may miss something) – every mention in the press is there; assess financials; gather the team to say goodbye and thank you.  Followup: what were your goals?  Start assessing the success or failure or in between during the run of the show.  If you want to move the show, you need to know early.  Decide who’s on your decisionmaking team who’ll sit down with you to decide about moving the show. 

Have a production office (your living room?) where people can meet, leave packages, etc.  One central place. 

Casting: in conjunction with director.  A good director should have a way that he/she likes to cast.  If using Equity actors, must notify Equity before casting the show.  There are rules about casting Equity actors.  When you start casting the show, that’s the beginning of your PR campaign.  Actors are great marketers – talking up your show after reading the sides.  The way you run your auditions is having an impact on how folks perceive the production.  If they’re sitting around for seven hours to be seen for five minutes, forget it.  Schedule appointments in 15 minute intervals.  Your auditions are the first time you’re engaging with the public.  Be organized.  Don’t run long.  Make people feel taken care of.  Never give out roles.  People value the things they have to work for.