Category Archives: Playwright

The Kobayashi Maru Scenario

 

 Or my Kirkian response to the Who Gives A Sh*t Question

I do read this blog when it’s not my week. Recently, Tiffany Antone raised the all important Who Gives A Sh*t Question. I could also call it, do people really want to see another play about characters sitting in chairs and talking about their issues?

Or I can ask, should I write stuff other people want to see? Should I play to the mob? Or should I challenge audience expectation and possibly never get produced? How do I keep the audience interested? How do I keep myself interested? I’m not interested. I suck. I can’t go on, I shall go on.

The no win cycle of writing new stuff-will the audience dig it-but needing to write it- but no one will get it (I’m paraphrasing) kept repeating in my head.

This led to the inevitable playwriting funk which sent me crawling back to prose-writing while watching movie star interviews on youtube.  

Then I was rescued by basic cable. One night, as I surfing channels, I came upon Star Trek 2: The Wrath of Kahn. Ahah! The Kobayashi Maru Scenario.

In Star Trek 2: The Wrath of Kahn, a Starfleet cadet has to take a simulation test. She is the captain of a starship and receives a distress call from a civilian freighter (called The Kobayashi Maru) in the neutral zone. If the captain goes into the neutral zone, it would mean war with the Klingons. The purpose of simulation is to test the cadet in a no win scenario.

Captain Kirk’s solution to the no win scenario was to reprogram the simulation, so there was a solution. He cheated. But he won.

Maybe the solution to the Who Gives A Sh*t question is not in the answer but in the question itself. Change the question or make the question irrelevant. At the same time, there’s an audience out there in the dark. Show them something.

At the end of Wrath of Kahn, Kirk faced a no win scenario, but Spock saved the day and sacrificed himself (although he came back in Star Trek 3). So another question about the no win scenario, is what will you give up to win? Sometimes, the cost is too high.

Then again, that’s just a movie. And all we’re doing is writing plays. Or are we?

Maybe it’s time to become more Kirkian in the playwriting. Live long and prosper.

2012 Affirmations, from a Chocoholic Playwright to YOU

There is a real pain in the ass tradition of recollection and re-dedication to things left lingering at the end of each year… I think you can tell by the start of this sentence that I don’t hold too much to that tradition.  Perhaps it’s because no matter how many things I manage to check off my (very long) “To Do” list, the list never seems to get any shorter – so why would I want to haul that out at the end of/beginning of each/every blessed year and beat myself up about it?

That “To Do” list pretty much lives on the perimeter of my almost daily thoughts anyway.

But here I am with the “New Years Eve” blog spot, and I feel like I have to comment on the occasion… I have to come up with something worth reading… don’t I?

So I was thinking about it from the writerly perspective- reevaluating this past year despite myself and I realized that although I won’t be making any resolutions (evil self-destructive little things, aren’t they?) I did learn some things this year that might be worth sharing here… Then I got to thinking that rather than sound off like a bombastic fool, I’d try to fashion these little thoughts into as straight forward and relevant language as possible…  I’ll leave it up to you whether or not I succeeded.

The Writer’s Annual (or hourly, depending on how often you need to remind yourself of them) list of 2012 Affirmations.

  1. I will not beat myself up uneccessarily for: not writing enough/not getting the production/not schmoozing the right people at my agent’s son’s bar mitzvah/etc-reasons-to-artiscally-mangle-myself!  Or (at least) if I must abuse a gross personal misstep, I will try to make sure my fists are gloved before I self-flagellate, and I will treat myself to a stiff-stiff-delicious-something-alcoholic/or chocolate (or both) afterwards.
  2. I will not waste my time writing plays that do not pass the “Who Gives a Shit” test.  I will be honest and constructive in my answering of this test when administered to an idea of mine.  If I’m not sure, I’ll gather some opinions, stew on it for at least a day, and then probably write it anyway/have to reread Affirmation #1 until the gloves can come off and I can hold a martini.
  3. I will never underestimate life’s ability to pull me in new directions, and I will try like hell to be open to those new directions when life insists on dragging pulling me towards them.
  4. I will let myself try new things (really this is just a restatement of #3) because if you only swim in familiar waters, you’ll never know how long you can hold your breath or what other amazing aquatic acrobatics you can accomplish… no matter how uninterested you may think you are in finding out.
  5. I will reward myself when I deserve it (preferably with chocolate or new shoes… or maybe just chocolate because it’s cheaper)
  6. I will work hard, play hard, take care of myself as best I can, try not to let the state of the world drag me down into an artistic abyss of depression, and I will always remember to scoop the cat litter, pick my socks up off the floor when there’s no longer floor to be seen, and otherwise try to resemble a happy functioning human being, even though I’ve chosen this impossible/wonderful/colorful/delightful/terrifying career… And when in doubt of any of these, I will reference #1 – #5 until the doubt has been run out of town.

May you each experience your own delightful New Year celebration (or lack thereof) and be merry, healthy, and bright in the new year(s) to come!

With Cheer,

Tiffany

The Promise…

I have a dream that one day I will get to the promised land…  I will be sitting before a window, looking out into the day/night/day; I will be writing…and the sun sets and rises will not deter me from my place before my computer.  There will be no alarm clock going off in the middle of my thoughts to alert me to the time.  I will not have to shower, dress and make my way down the 405 to work; I will sit contemplating the next words.  And, I will be happy…

But right now, at this precise moment, I have to pull out my ‘pick me up poem’ and carry on till then…

I Will Go In The Strength Of The Lord

i will go in the strength of the Lord / i will make mention of Him to the people and praise Him always for His tenderness toward me / for the kindness with which He shows me / because there are times… /when within myself i cannot find the strength / …to take the journey / i am overwhelmed by even the thought of it… / and stand paralyzed /behind a wall of “i can’ts” / shifting my weight from foot to foot / pretending “i’m gonna try” / but…it is too much for me…at times / and i cannot wade the waters…they are too deep / and i have to seek rest in Him / so i can scatter my apprehensions to the four winds / it is then / in times like these… / that i find solace in the hollow of His hand / and lay myself down to rest awhile / then we take the journey together / and windsurf above the clouds / up where eagles dare / up where the sun lives / and mountaintops look like small hills and stormy weather is beneath us / and we glide…glide…glide / into the promised promised land…

“I Will Go in the Strength of the Lord” by Robin Byrd

Do Something For a Change

I bought a bumper sticker back in 2004 and loved it:

Do Something For a Change

Unfortunately the car that hosted it is gone, but the phrase still sticks with me.

I began obsessing over outreach and consulting for nonprofits when I saw an incredible, invisible gap: the disconnect between nonprofits or civics leaders and the people they serve. This gap is not always a result of lack of trying, but very often due to a lack of time, objectivity, funding….choose one.

More on that gap later, but the connection between it and the bumper sticker is a simple one. While you are busy changing the world, I help you reach as many people as possible. This is what attracts me to nonprofits like The Global Theatre Project. How Bari Hochwald does what she does is not simple, but her mission can boil down to:

creative engagement and collaboration that will unite American theatre artists and students with their international counterparts positively affecting the communities where they work

I know from some time overseas – and across the country – that travel and true creative collaboration is the key to an open and receptive mind. I feel it greatly affects my ability to adjust to new situations, embrace new tools, and understand the world a little more.

When the opportunity to work with Bari on a fund-raiser for The Global Theatre Project arose, I couldn’t believe my luck. Honestly, I still can’t. I learned many lessons through past campaigns similar to this, and relish the chance to improve and aid in their fund-raising outreach efforts. Amanda Aitken wrote this great article on framing and tuning yourself to attract the right collaborators to your work. I truly feel that my work with The Global Theatre Project is exactly why I started consulting in the first place.

Did I also mention that I wouldn’t know Bari if it weren’t for LA FPI? Oh, that little detail!

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Read about our special guests James Cromwell & Panelists

“This is the power of art” – Interview with Jessica from our partner Amnesty Int’l

Buy tickets or donate if you can’t attend!


16 Possible Glimpses by Marina Carr at the Abbey Theatre

This is not a review. Just my notes.

Last month, I was in Dublin and caught a preview of the world premiere of the latest Marina Carr play at the Abbey Theatre.

16 Possible Glimpses is an artistic impression of the life of playwright Anton Chekhov. Instead of writing a definite biography play, Marina Carr set out to write her own Chekhov, and she shows us a man who is both contradictory and painfully human.

Personally, I also thought her Chekhov was kind of sexy, and that is an adjective I never would have used about Anton Chekhov in the past. The structure of the play is nonlinear, so Chekhov dies in the beginning, then he’s onstage for the rest of the night. We see him resurrected again and again.

Carr’s Chekhov embraces a lot of people, and these physical connections make the missed connections in Chekhov’s tragic comedies even more tragic. How often we are afraid to embrace each other in life. Chekhov had TB and did not have the luxury of time, so he had to embrace as much as he could.

The play asks the question: what is a good man? How can one be both a good man and a good writer? There is a great scene where Chekhov is trying to write a story to pay the mortgage, but he is constantly interrupted by people needing him either in his family or as a doctor.

The production also incorporates video. By projecting the actors behind their physical selves, what is said and not said becomes more distorted as some phrases become overemphasized. It also allows glimpses of actors’ faces when they have their back to the audience or to other actors. The focus is not so much on the talker but on the listener.

As I witnessed the play in the tiny Peacock theatre, I thought about how a person’s life is really just glimpses and how fortunate that we got sixteen possible glimpses of Chekhov. By the way, the play doesn’t have sixteen scenes. Sixteen never comes up. It’s just a random number. Now, that’s really cool.

The production at the Abbey closed on October 29th. You can find out more about it here.

Timing…

Sometimes I feel as if my timing is off.  I miss my freeways exits.  Miss my lunch.  Miss events.  Miss the post office.  Miss calling family in other time zones.  Then I sit down to write and all the goofy day-to-day stuff doesn’t matter anymore.  I fall right in sync with the world I am creating.  I find my rhythm and start my dance.  When I am done and must return back to the world where I’m a step off and slightly out of place, I’m a little less weary of the drill even though timing where my writing is concerned can be a decade off.  The hard part as a writer is coming to grips with the fact that what you wrote/write may be too early, too late, or worse, too different and it locks you out of the proverbial box.  And, you – as artist, as representative for your work – don’t fit in a box yourself so you can’t just sneak into the “box” without being noticed.  And, though you shy away from boxes, the box is where all the children must play per se…for now…

 

Box – part of playing area.  SPORTS in sports such as baseball and soccer, a marked-off part of the playing area used for a special purpose, or subject to special rules.

Sport – competitive physical activity.  An individual or group competitive activity involving physical exertion or skill, governed by rules, and sometimes engaged in professionally (often used in the plural).

Play – activity.  The free-ranging and varied activity of something, e.g. the imagination.  perform dramatic work by somebody.  To perform the work of a particular dramatist.

Free-range – not caged.  Free to move about and feed at will, and not confined in a battery or pen.

Pen – writing.  The written word considered as a means of expression.  confine somebody or something.  To keep somebody or something in a pen or other enclosed area.  female swan.  A female  swan.

Swan – SWAN (Support Women Artists Now) Day A new international holiday that celebrates women artists. It is an annual event taking place on the last Saturday of March (Women’s History Month) and the surrounding weeks.

Artist – creator of art.  Somebody who creates art…  skilled person. Somebody who does something skillfully and creatively.

 

What if – the box were bigger and included more sand so there would be room for more children to play? 

What if – the box was an archaeological site and all the children were allowed to pretend the sand was a cave and put their gifts just beneath the surface to be discovered and valued like scrolls found near the Dead Sea?   

What if – there were “perimeter free” cards that could be used to override “un-box-able’ children so they could play from the perimeters of the box even though they weren’t actually in the box? 

What if more swans were allowed to play?  Would the sand turn to water and would the water be a better channel for sharing?

What if – there was no box?  Would timing matter then…? Or, would all art being created equal be allowed…to be…?

 Just thinking…

Ask a Literary Manager 3

I know Kappy Kilburn through the freelance directing crowd, but also love collaborating as part of the Steering Committee for the Directors Lab West. She offers interesting insight as a Literary Manager who is not a writer first. Great new perspective! Italicization mine.

CMJ: Where and when were you a Literary Manager? Can you please give an idea of the sorts of plays that immediately grab your attention, and how a submission package can accomplish that without bending the guidelines?  

KK: I was the Associate Director of Artistic Development at the Pasadena Playhouse 2004-2008.  I produced the new play development program Hothouse at the Playhouse and by default was the Literary Manager.  What grabs my attention in a good way is a proper submission that follows the submission guidelines.  I will prioritize a submission if there is something honest yet intriguing in the cover letter and brief synopsis.  If in those two, you hint that this is a play my particular theater may actually produce, I will get to it faster.  And by that, I mean you are not wasting my time with material that we would never thematically or structurally consider.  (IE: theatre A doesn’t do musicals – don’t submit a musical; theatre b only does gay themed work – keep that in mind; theatre c wont do graphic material – don’t submit something that pushes that envelope.)

CMJ: What are some immediate turn-offs in submissions?

KK: I am legendary for throwing away a submission unread if you can’t take a minute to find out whether I am a man or female.  If the submission comes to Mr. Kappy Kilburn, I won’t read it.  Don’t assume anything when you submit material.  And it is usually a good idea to double check who material should go to – is that person on the submission list you bought still on staff, have the submission policies changed?  You can always quickly check the theatre’s website.  I received two submissions at the Playhouse during DLW [Directors Lab West] this past June and I haven’t worked there in over two years.  Another turn off – braggadocio or arrogance in your cover letter.  I hate arrogance (which is different than confidence!)  I like a writer who is being honest but somewhat humble in their cover letter.  Don’t rave about your own materiel.  Feel free to talk about any awards and successes but if you keep telling me how great or funny the play is, you have probably set my expectations too high and it is doomed to not be liked.

CMJ: Does it matter to you if playwrights have a website, Facebook, Twitter presence? How much do you want to know about the playwright themselves if you’re interested in their work?

KK: Website and online presence is great for finding back up material to support a submission (for example – music tracks for a musical that I can go find if I am interested).  This is a much better place for bragging than in your cover letter.  If I have an interest in the submission, I can go to the website to see what else they have written, who else they have worked with, what other theatres are supporting/interested their work, etc.

CMJ: Are there any red flags to submissions, obvious or subtle?

KK: Again, the name – assumptions will catch you up every time.  Also, don’t assume you or your material are so great that I won’t mind you have bent my rules.  They are there for a reason.  I had hundreds of plays waiting to be read and not a lot of time to do it in.  Any excuse you give me not to read yours I will jump on and weed it out.  That includes length of submitted pages, clarity of synopsis, if I say no music or supporting materials that means don’t send me a cd or press clippings.  I feel guilty about throwing away stuff you spent money on and all that paper going to waste and that makes me mad and it won’t win you any points.  Remember, we often look for any excuse not to read something.

CMJ: You’ve worked on many new plays as a Director. Any advice you’d give to playwrights from the Director’s perspective? 

KK: This is a huge question but I will be brief.  Find a way to trust your director.  If you can’t, find a way to communicate that keeps the work progressing, is non-combative and works towards the mutual goal of the best production you can get.  But the best option is to trust your director (this is why it is important you have some say in who directs your shows and why so many directors get hired because the playwright went to bat for them) and communicate thoroughly.  They are your mouthpiece to the rest of the production team.  They will be helping communicate YOUR story to actors, designers, audiences, marketing and press staff, box office ticket sellers, etc.  Make sure you have communicated YOUR story they way you want it told to that director.  That is one of my favorite parts of directing new work – those conversations with the playwright where they guide me in discovering the heart of the material, we mine for gold, etc!

 

Kappy Kilburn recently served for four years as the Literary Manager and Associate Director of Artistic Development at Pasadena Playhouse where she created and produced their new play development program “Hothouse at the Playhouse.” Under her watch,
Hothouse launched several projects which have gone on to successful runs around the world including Sister Act the Musical (multiple Tony Nominations), Ray Charles Live! (opening on Broadway as Unchain My Heart), Looped (Broadway), Night is a Child (produced as well at Milwaukee Rep), Hollywood Arms (a tribute workshop with Carol Burnett to explore an adaptation into a musical), and Number of People (with Ed Asner.) Through Hothouse, she artistically and dramaturgically aided over 30 new plays and musicals.

Producer: Pal Joey revision workshop for Peter Schneider Productions; Stephen Sondheim’s 75th: The Concert at the Hollywood Bowl; NEA’s Shakespeare in Los Angeles kick at the Mark Taper Forum; All About Gordon Farewell Gala for Gordon Davidson. Kappy was the Special Projects Coordinator for Center Theatre Group’s Founding Artistic Director Gordon Davidson; the Company Manager for The World of Nick Adams celebrity staged reading benefiting Paul Newman’s Hole in the Wall Gang Camps at the Kodak Theatre; the Production Stage Manager for Relentless Theatre Company; Production Coordinator at George Mason University’s Institute of the Arts; and Assistant to the Managing Director at Theatrical
Outfit in Atlanta, Georgia.

Director: Servant of Two Masters (Chapman University), 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee (Cape Fear Regional Theatre), Scarcity (Need Theatre – LA Times Critics Choice), Painting Churches (Group Rep), Psycho Beach Party (Chapman University), Safe (Circus Theatricals – LA Times Critics Choice), Isn’t It Rich – A Sondheim Celebration (Pasadena Playhouse), Shh! Art!, Work and Hindsight (Hothouse at the Playhouse), ABC’s Diversity Showcase, Three Hotels (Freemont Center Theatre),The Man Who Could See Through Time (Balcony Theatre at the Pasadena Playhouse), Romancing Stereotypes (LATC), Fast and Furious at Sacred Fools, multiple AMDA Showcases, Burn This (Corner Playhouse), All My Sons for Directors Lab West. Assistant Director: Mark Taper Forum: Frank Galatti (Homebody/Kabul by Tony Kushner, also at BAM), Gordon Davidson (The Talking Cure by Christopher Hampton), Lisa Petterson (Body of Bourne by John Belluso), Diane Rodriguez (The Lalo Project); Kirk Douglas Theatre: Scott Ellis (The Little Dog Laughed); Ahmanson: Sir Peter Hall (Romeo & Juliet), Lynne Meadow (Tale of the Allergists Wife and National Tour); Kansas City Rep’s Sherlock Holmes: The Final Adventure as Associate to David Ira Goldstein. She has worked with David Esbjornson on Broadway (Bobbi Boland) and Off Broadway (My Old Lady by Israel Horovitz).

She is a Founder and Co-Producer for Directors Lab West, a spin off of Lincoln Center Theater’s Directors Lab in NY of which she is an alumna. Kappy is a graduate of the University of Missouri-Columbia, proud Kappa Kappa Gamma and Associate Member of SDC.

Ask a Literary Manager 2

We received great feedback from the first Ask A Literary Manager, and based on Staci’s comment I asked her to elaborate. Here is the original comment: 

By Staci Swedeen, September 14, 2011 @ 3:39 pm

Excellent feedback for playwrights! I’ve been the Literary Manager of Penguin Repetory Theatre, 30 miles north of New York City, for seven years and found myself nodding in agreement on your comments. Penguin is a small theatre that looks for small cast scripts. It was overwhelming and frustrating at how many writers would send in large cast play, apparently never bothering to read the submission guidelines or look at the kinds of plays we produced. After years of wading through scripts I finally took the Artistic Director’s advice and went to Agent Submission only.

And now my follow-up questions:

CMJ: Has moving to agent submissions only improved the quality of work or simply cut through those playwrights who didn’t pay attention to your guidelines?

 
SS: Seven years ago when I started as Literary Manager at Penguin Rep, a 108 seat theatre north of New York City, my goal was to begin a reading series called “Play With Your Food.”   I was looking to find four or five good plays that might be ready for production for the following season and test drive them before our audience. As a playwright myself, I advocated for open submissions because, damn it, how about giving us regular people a chance?
 
Within the six week submission window I received 758 scripts.  I’d asked for full length small casts and plays that “illuminated the human spirit.”  Over half of the plays sent were wildly inappropriate.  A small number of submissions were quite good and several were, to my ear, simply wonderful.  Imaginative, well told, surprising stories where something happens, where characters want something, strive for it, encounter obstacles and engage me.
 
It was because of the simply wonderful plays that I continued to have open submissions for the next five years. I thought that if I tweaked the guidelines and narrowed the chute, more of the wonderful would rain down.  Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.  Scripts continued to line my walls.  Finally Joe Brancato, Penguin’s Artistic Director, said “Stop torturing yourself.”
 
Moving to agent submissions did eliminate receiving large boxes of completely inappropriate scripts.  It also set the bar at “acceptable” in terms of spelling, listing a cast of characters and other basic formatting issues.   However, every agent submission isn’t wonderful. I know that there are excellent writers who don’t have agents and I feel for them, I really do.  The wall they have to scale is a high one.

CMJ: Do you ever make an exception to agent submissions?
 
SS: Penguin Rep has been in existence 34 years, so we have a large theatrical network.  Scripts still come over the transom with personal recommendations or through personal connections.  We have a preference for working with writers from New York or the surrounding area.

CMJ: What is the ratio of new plays to known plays at Penguin Rep?
 
SS: Penguin produces four main stage shows per season (May-October) and presents readings of five plays for the “Play With Your Food.”  Although it can vary from year to year, the majority of these are new plays. 

CMJ: Are there any other red flags you would like to add to Mr. Epperson’s comments?
 
SS: Mr.  Epperson really ran the bases in his thorough and thoughtful comments.  I would add one thing – also at the risk of being labeled a prude (and with due respect to Mr. Mamet.) Gratuitous vulgar language is simply that – gratuitous, and often unintentionally comic. The more vulgar language is used, the less its impact.  Even in the most angry or offensive characters it’s rarely the foul language that heighten the situation, it’s the dramatic support and situation supplied by the writer and tapped into by the actor that cause the fur to fly.
 
Unlike Mr. Epperson, I can’t claim to have responded to every script that has been submitted.  Due to sheer volume I simply wasn’t able to keep up. I have passed scripts along to other theatres where I think they might find a home.  I still have a box of scripts that I’ve kept thinking – gee, maybe someday or someplace this might work.  And I have become acquainted with some dedicated, talented and inspiring writers.
 
One last note. As someone who has received a rejection and an acceptance for the same play on the same day, I acknowledge that the world of playwriting is very subjective. Just because your play isn’t a perfect fit for Penguin doesn’t mean another theatre won’t find your work compelling and worth producing.  Research theatres, read the guidelines, keep submitting.  There are no guarantees. But you can certainly increase your odds.
CMJ: Many thanks for such a fast turnaround, Staci!
 
Staci Swedeen
read our new Knoxville theatre blog at

Find me at about.me/staciswedeen

To Fee or Not To Fee?

Full Disclosure: I do not pay submission fees. At first it was mostly because I don’t budget for it, but the more I submit to play-writing contests, the more it just doesn’t jive with me. I liken it to the nearly-only-in-LA procedure of dues-paying ensemble companies. More full disclosure: I used to work for one and was partly responsible for collecting said dues.

It makes my stomach turn.

Submission fees for playwrights isn’t as sickening to me. I understand fees are sometimes considered part of the beast. I mentioned this topic to my husband and he automatically assumed you paid for your play to be in the contest, not just considered. The wide eyes when I explained…

Many people have differing opinions, so instead of this being merely my thoughts, I want to share what I learned as I investigated across multiple social media platforms.

It all starts on Twitter: Local LA playwright Brian Polak was the first to answer my general inquiry.

I detest submission fees. Producing entities unfairly pass the burden of contests and productions on to prospective writers. I believe if you want to have a contest or do a production, fundraise for it. Don’t make writers pay to play.

Brian doesn’t agree that submission fees are equivalent to dues-paying companies however, a situation I could not resolve in 140 characters or less .

Gedaly Guberek of Coeurage Theatre Company quickly agreed, as did Louise Penburthy who added:

I don’t pay submission fees anymore, except for prestigious places with work-shopping. Otherwise it’s obnoxious, [in my humble opinion].

The idea of a play getting work-shopped or a production seemed to matter to some people. Through Linkedin I found the following comments:

Vic Cabrera in LA:  I would, and have, if I get a critique back.

Donald Drake & Evan Guilford-Blake both said yes because the returns can be beneficial. Evan: Last year I paid about $900 and won $3600.

Donald has also gotten more prize money with contests that charge, and sees another benefit: One of my best experiences in the theater came from a competition I paid to enter – the O’Neill, which provided me with a wonderful month in Waterford, Ct. with incredible actors and directors and a wonderful staged reading of my play. I can understand why small theaters can’t afford to pay for running a competition and I see the submission fee as a business expense on my part.

Honestly, the Playwrights Group on Linkedin is so interesting and varied that I encourage everyone to read it.

Ian Hornby‘s perspective was especially interesting: Having run a playwriting competition on behalf of The Playwrights’ Co-operative, there are two edges to this topic. We started with a small entry fee ($10), purely to fund a decent prize at the end. But we had so many sites that would not list us because we had an entry fee that we dropped the fee and made it free entry. What a mistake we made. Although it’s not the right kind of filter and has so many undertones of not providing equal opportunities for those unable to afford the fee, at least it was a filter. We were completely snowed under with entries, and our panel of judges didn’t have time to do anything more than speed-read all entries so as to arrive at a shortlist, which could then be read in detail. Without doubt we’d have missed some gems.

Regardless, he does applaud contests without a fee.

Tony Earnshaw from the UK has an interesting perspective: …in the poetry world it’s difficult to find any contests which don’t have a fee attached and I’ve heard no grumbles. I’ve recently entered a short play for a competition run by a small theatre and am one of the winners (there are ten of us). The read through, at which I met the other writers, the directors and the casts, was worth it in itself.

Anyway, 5 on Linkedin from all over the world say YES, 9 say NO and 1/3 of the NO’s will make exceptions in rare cases.

Gregory Fletcher believes: If a theater company wants to attach their name to my play as the premiere producer, then figure out how to evaluate my play without charging me. Do painters, musicians, dancers, actors, or anybody else in the arts pay to have their work considered for production?

The answer to that, of course, is yes, in some cases.

I then took to Facebook. The results are as follows:

Prefer not to, but will if the contest interests me enough: 17 votes
No, because I usually can’t afford it: 6 votes
No. I am philosophically opposed to fees: 5 votes
Also much more interested if the outcome is a production: 1 vote
Yes, it is just part of the beast: 1 vote
I don’t even read those submissions: 0 votes
I don’t mind and have submissions fees in my ‘expenses’ budget: 0 votes
I don’t mind at all; I just want my work produced: 0 votes
Adam Szymkowicz : Only for Sundance and O’Neill.
Edith Freni : All others I’ll ask for a waiver.
Here is the thing. (We’re back to my opinion now.) Regarding my more recent experiences:
Last summer, I self-produced a Fringe show I wrote with under $500 budget. I felt shame every single time we cut corners, every time I saw how very hard these wonderful actors and director worked for nothing more than a hug and immense gratitude. We had an incredibly supportive and hard-working awareness team as well, who donated their time for some experience and the cause of the piece.
There was a chance to remount and I had to turn it down for many reasons. I knew the team was happy and willing, but I just couldn’t look these artists in the eye and ask them to work for free again. I also have had some fights in my day with supervisors on Equity rules for actors and the worth of one designer versus others.
What’s changed? I often work freelance and negotiate my contracts. On a weekly basis I tell someone my worth and stick by it. When I began working for myself, I undercut my rate. That changed pretty quickly.
I also see way too many people pay upwards of $30/month to join an ensemble company; sometimes I’ve heard of $85/month. Actors may have their reasons – and I fully admit I have it easier as someone who can create my own work – but honestly, I’m fed up.
If you don’t have the money or means to produce a show, you shouldn’t do it. I have done it myself and will not do it again. Personally, it demeans everything in the work that has value, be it the writing, directing, performances, dramaturgy, design, right up to the viewing audience who pays money (in most cases) so that the artists involved may at least get nice thank you gifts.
This is a personal decision after years of self-producing and co-producing. As an extension, I refuse to pay a submission fee. If your readers (and Lord knows, I’ve donated my own time to reading plays) need money, raise the money. If you can’t produce without artists paying into the production in order to be considered, don’t produce.
Some excellent and imaginative pieces don’t “need” money. Artists involved should still be paid.
Yes, it’s hard. So is writing and acting and directing and designing….
Find the people who will donate to your work. They are out there. They are hard to find. They are hard to woo.
Art ain’t easy.
I do not mean any of this as a judgement on those who choose to pay fees and who choose to join ensemble companies, nor do I want to demean the artists who have worked for free on my work over the years. They hopefully got enough in return out of the investment.
They deserve better.
I also know for a fact there are plenty of playwrights out there who will happily pay fees for their own reason. No theater company is crying right now that they won’t get the chance to consider my plays for their competition.
Every even mild success I have from last June onward rests squarely on the backs and pocketbooks of the actors who braved traffic in LA, subways in NY, missed opportunities elsewhere or felt guilty for skipping rehearsal to audition for a commercial (they shouldn’t).
I don’t feel the need to go further into production teams’ sacrifices; just know I married a designer and learned everything about negotiating a contract from friend Cricket S. Myers. By the way, she was nominated for a Tony last year and will walk away from a job rather than accept a mediocre situation.
Often times, she is my hero.
Some may think these arguments are separate. I do not. Every time we de-value our work, an arts education program dies. After all, what value is there in it? Arts advocates are saints. Not all producers or self-producers are money-grubbing and selfish either. Many produce for the sheer joy of art, some for profit, numerous others simply because they’re good at it and theatre needs producers. It’s unfortunate that the most meager of producing codes must dictate paying actors gas money.
That is all.

How to Hang Out with Female Playwrights

Last weekend in Prescott, when I wasn’t watching my own play, soaking in a Jacuzzi, or poking around the local Salvation Army thrift store, I was hanging out with the other women playwrights.

Because what happens in Prescott stays in Prescott, I won’t air all the Dirty Laundry details. However, I did notice some interesting things about this flock of nine playwrights who all happened to be female.

Since members of the other gender might be curious about how to deal with such a gathering of women who write plays, I’ve decided to raise the curtain on female playwrights.

First of all, female playwrights like to shop. Yep, we like the shopping. Now, shopping is not to be confused with buying. Still, I think our presence did good things for the economic index of Prescott.

Second, female playwrights like to drink adult beverages. We might all drink different adult beverages, but we really appreciated drinking adult beverages of quality.

Third, female playwrights complement each other. During performances, there was a lot of tapping and whispering and giggling in the playwright section.

Fourth, female playwrights ask a lot of questions. I like to ask questions in conversation, and I soon realized that I was around people who also asked questions in conversation. At some point, I just started making statements.

So if you are thinking of producing a Women’s Playwriting Festival, just be aware of these four things, and you should do well.

And on that bombshell, I come to end of another playwright blogging week. Good night!