Tag Archives: LAFPI

Go On Anyway

At my friend Eve’s birthday party a few weeks ago, I found myself in conversation with our mutual pal Kelly, who was asking how “Shorts & Briefs” had gone – an afternoon of 10 minute plays and excerpts of plays that I’d been a part of in March.  I said “Most excellent,” and then launched into why the heck Jan O’Connor, Mary Casey and I had cooked up the event:  the sorry state of affairs for women getting their plays done.

Kelly asked (innocently) why things were that way.  I explained that getting ANY play produced is tough – especially if you’re unknown or semi-unknown without a track record – but that the choosing of plays by literary departments leans towards picking male authors.  It’s not unlike the film or TV business, I said.  Writing staffs on TV shows to this day will have more men than women.  Movie scripts by men still far outnumber those by women.  (All hail Kathryn Bigelow, but don’t get me started on the number of working female directors.)  Why is that, Kelly asked.

It’s been this way for years, I said.  It mirrors the non-show biz business world (even though we’ve made progress on many fronts).  Why is that, she asked again.

This is how our conversation went.  Kelly kept asking why and I kept talking until finally I had a light bulb moment and said, you know what, Kelly?  I think this is the journey of our planet. 

I think we are a planet of polarity.  North and South poles.  East and West cultures.  Night and Day.  Black and White.  Male and Female.  And I think our journey is to reconcile, to integrate what we perceive to be our opposite, to see that we are not opposites, that we are many, many shades, many colors, many gradations all on the same spectrum. 

But what keeps us from doing that?  Fear.  And I think that’s the other great journey of our planet.  We hold on to our little acre of land.  Our rung on the ladder.  Our spot in the pecking order.  Our religion.  Our opinion.  We think that spot, that belief is our tangible proof of… of what?  We’re loved?   We’re okay?  We’re good enough? 

And so we make fear-based choices.  It takes courage to say, “Yeah, I’m gonna take a chance on this playwright who is not of my gender, my tribe, I’m gonna risk my reputation on her.”  But  you can’t stand around waiting for literary managers and producers to get over their fears and integrate “oppositeness” into their world.  We must do it ourselves, in whatever way we can.  Thank you Jan and Mary as well as Laura, Jennie and the other women of the L.A.F.P.I. for taking steps so we’re not standing around waiting.

I will close this first blog with a quote from Robert Henri that I have taped to my bathroom mirror:  “ Do not let the fact that things are not made for you, that conditions are not as they should be, stop you.  Go on anyway.  Everything depends on those who go on anyway.”

Being a Playwright…being female…

Welcome to the Los Angeles Female Playwrights Initiative (LAFPI) Blog! My name is Robin Byrd and I am a playwright. I went to the first meeting of the LAFPI because I was curious to see just about how many female playwrights there are living in Los Angeles. I was curious to see the ones I didn’t know – turned out to be everyone in the room. I took the trip up Topanga despite the vague directions to “drive toward the ocean” – very scary to a person who gets lost when tired and after working all week at my day job, I was tired. But I took the chance because I wanted to know, if I followed that winding road up the mountain, would I find a group of women focused on making a difference. I did. Could this be the beginning of change? It is. I am happy to be a part of the movement.

Being a playwright, one tends to spend a lot of time alone — writing. Being female doesn’t change that; the craft is the same. The drive to create is an artist thing – no gender attached. An artist’s perspective is formed by the sum of pieces and parts that make up the artist. The perspective is unique; the created art is universal. I never introduce myself as a female playwright nor have I ever seen or heard a male playwright introduce himself as a male playwright. It should be about the work and the work should speak for itself. I cover women’s issues, men’s issues, human issues – whatever comes up while I’m writing.  I took an all male piece of mine, The Book of Years, to a conference once.  The general consensus of the male audience was surprise at how I got the characters to be so true-to-life.  I listen.  I start with the voices I hear in my head when I write. “First Words”, I call it. No matter how much research or what I write down as a draft synopsis, the first words begin the play and tell me whose play it is even if I started out thinking it belonged to someone else. First words tell me who the character is. If I follow the words I hear diligently, the characters will write themselves – as true or as false as they want to be. Yes, sometimes the characters lie but if I don’t overwrite them, I usually find out why they lied somewhere down the line. Listening is an asset for a writer – not just listening to the world around us as we transpose and re-create/create worlds but also listening to our inner selves as we push against the stones. We must believe in ourselves and continue to write the stories that need to be written no matter how many rejection letters come in the mail. I have a thing I do when I get my ‘R’ letters. I read between the lines. A “No” with a “please keep us in mind” means “keep writing and circle back”. Just getting a rejection letter means the organization cared enough to reply; I will take a rejection letter over no response any day. I have my share of no responses noted in my submission log; on the positive side, a no response could be due to understaffing so there may still be hope that they will get around to reading my submission. What a happy surprise that will be! If the organization just doesn’t respond and I still want to submit, I make a note “tends not to respond” and that keeps me from being irritated. If and when they do respond, it should be good news. Why do I choose to be as positive as I can about rejection? It takes too much energy that I can use for writing not to be positive about it. Don’t get me wrong, there is the occasional wallop that knocks the wind out of me but that’s when I reach out to one of my writer friends and they always help me get back on track. Sometimes, the best remedy is to start a new play…being a playwright…that’s what I do – I write…