2012: Apocalypse Plays Redux?

The end of the year is approaching. And a faction of people think the Mayan's predicted 2012 to be the end of the world. While I don't personally believe that (I have far too much stuff to do) this idea overall may provide an interesting opportunity. And opportunity to bring back the Apocalypse Plays cycle.

Now, if you've been following my blog from the beginning (although that seems unlikely) you'll know this blog actually started out as an account of my senior project: Apocalypse Plays. Apocalypse Plays consists of three pieces that make up one evening of theatre: Bathtub Safety (a ten-minute play), The Button (a fifteen to twenty minute solo piece), and Regarding Eden (a one-act). While none of them connect fully, they all center around what happens during/after the end of the world and/or in the rebuilding of the world.

Recently, the thought hit me. What if I bring them back? Sure, my senior project wasn't that long ago (2010 to be exact [boy I like parenthesis today]) but the world is different now. I'm different now. My aesthetic as a writer and a performer is different now. Not only does the cosmic moment seem right but the personal moment seems right.

The idea is in no-way solidified but I'm certainly considering it. I should work harder on getting my other cycle off the ground.

Yet, the thought continues to linger in my brain.

A Holiday.

Happy Thanksgiving arts community.

Today, I am especially thankful for the theatrical and artistic community that is Seattle. I'm learning so much and meeting so many amazing and talented people. Thank you.

Enjoy the day.

For the Love

It's over.

I can't believe it. The show has concluded. I'm so ridiculously proud of the show and my fellow collaborators. An experience like c. 1993 (you never step in the same river twice) just reaffirms my love of collaboratively created/devised/generative work (or whatever you want to call it). With some time and distance I'll be able to be more articulate about the ins-and-outs of the experience and the reasons why I think collaborative theatre is exactly what the modern theatrical world needs. But for now, I can only muster sappy thoughts.

Out of everything that was great about this particular show and is great about generative theatre in general is the people the art form draws to it. You tend to get an eclectic, unconventional, ridiculously talented group of people who all have something unique to bring to the table. This group:

Photo by Ian Johnston

is no exception.

I love you guys.

50/50

Just in time for our closing weekend, we get one more review on the City Arts blog.

It's a pretty good one if you ask me. So far, this makes our reviews half in the positive direction and half in the more negative direction.

Doesn't matter to me though. I'm in love with this show.

Split Focus

Reason number eighty billion in the "Why I need to go to grad school" category: split focus.
(Okay, there probably aren't that many reasons but there definitely are reasons and good ones too.I will now outline this reason for you.)

I have had a phenomenal time working on c.1993 (you never step in the same river twice) at Annex Theatre. The reactions have been mixed (view reviews here: The Stranger, Seattlest, The Seattle Weekly) but I'm really proud of the work we have done and how we work together as an ensemble. I've had a place for my creative energy. It finally became so I wasn't living a life that consisted of work, my apartment, eating, drinking, sleeping and doing it all over again. As corny as it is (not even may sound, is), I feel somehow more complete when I have a creative endeavor and especially when I get to present that creative endeavor to the world.

And yet, in all this happy creative fulfillment, I'm not doing one thing: writing. I can not seem to split my focus fully between acting and writing. Now the two are definitely not mutually exclusive; often one goes with the other. However, I have been pouring my creative energy only into the show which is good for the show but bad for all the copious amounts of scripts that need editing, finishing, or starting. This is why I think I need to go to grad school. It's not that I can't split my focus and work on two creative endeavors at one time. It's that I don't yet seem to have the discipline to force myself to sit down and write every single day. I am disciplined in so many areas of my life but the consistency of daily writing is not one of them. I always refer to myself as an "inspiration writer," someone who writes almost exclusively when the lightning strikes. Recently, after participating as a playwright for the Double Shot Theatre Festival in Tacoma, I learned that the label of "inspiration writer" that I had placed on myself could actually be false. I wrote of script in five hours because I had to, not because the lightning struck.

More and more everyday, I am thinking about grad school. It is on the near horizon. I think I can almost see it.

Time to get crackin'. 

Second Weekends

Second weekends are difficult.

There's an emotional/physical/mental high you reach as an actor during the first weekend, especially on opening night. You've spent weeks (in our case) months putting together something to be really proud of and you believe, well maybe hope is a better word, you hope that other people will enjoy. The energy in the room on opening night cannot be compared to any other feeling. Nervousness spreads through the cast like wildfire whereas excitement runs rampant through an opening night audience. Everyone feels it. And if they don't when they arrive at the theatre they do by the time they leave. It's catching.

So.
Second weekends are a bit of let down, usually in audience size and energy. Despite audience size being relatively small, I do think the cast of c.1993 gave a solid weekend of performances. I will admit, I felt a bit of a let down after the high energy of the first weekend. And then I remembered, here's where the skill sets in. The job of the actor is to keep the energy, quality, devotion at 100% no matter what. I thank this amazing cast for helping me to do that.

On a completely different note, I'm excited to have free time again. I need to get back into writing. It (and time) has gotten away from me. But somehow I don't feel entirely complete when I'm not writing.

(Have you seen c.1993 yet? Whether you like it or not, spread the word. Haven't see it? It would mean so much to me if you did.)

HAPPY HALLOWEEN.

I'm so happy...

I'm so happy
'Cause today I found my friends.
They're in my head.

I'm so ugly
but that's okay 'cause so are you.

And with those words from Nirvana, we head into opening weekend of c. 1993 (you never step in the same river twice). YES. The show is opening. It's already mentioned in the Stranger and in Seattlest. Want to come? (The answer is "Of course.") The info can be found on this lovely poster:

Poster by Ian Johnston

And if that's not enough, here's a photo for your (sneak-peek) viewing pleasure:

Photo by Ian Johnston

Okay, okay. One more:

Photo by Ian Johnston

Support local theatre, it supports you.

Relief

(Wow. Three posts in one day. Don't worry. That'll probably never happen again.)

I just got a call from my cast. It sounds like they are really enjoying the show. That makes me feel ever so slightly better about my work.

An overnight festival is a sort of stress I've never really felt before. I would totally do it again.

Script Sent!

I did it! I finished the script. It took me three full rewrites and watching a 3-hour Julie Andrews movie (Star! - watch it.) to get something on paper I felt like I could send off. Turns out I didn't really need all those snacks I bought. I was too busy concentrating.

Something I learned from this experience (yes, already): it's good to take time with your inspiration. This time around my inspiration was a little factoid about one the actors in my cast. She is a big Julie Andrews fan. For whatever reason, that sparked my interest tonight. And that's why I spent so long watching a movie I hadn't seen before, instead of rehashing one I had seen before. I wanted a glimpse further into the head of my actor and the head of Julie Andrews.  And because of both of those explorations, I got the best glimpse into my character's head.

Another thing I learned: breaks are good. Time away from the script always makes the time with the script that much better and more productive. And showers are good for waking up the mind and body.

I'm really unsure of how the script turned out. But it was an experiment. I did the best I could in the time I had. That's what is really important, right?

Now to sleep (it's 5:00a.m.) and then off to Tacoma tomorrow evening to see the show. I have such a hard time watching my work but that's a blog post for a different day.

Double Shot

I shouldn't be doing this. I should not be taking time away from my twelve hours to write a ten-minute play to pen a blog. But surprise, surprise. I am.

I am currently writing for the Double Shot Festival which will take place in Tacoma over the next two days. Our prompt was sent to us barely 45 minutes ago. I took the time to brew a pot of coffee, set up a pad of paper, and create a new playlist. By all accounts I'm ready to do this.

Now.
To hope for real inspiration. To look at pictures, listen to music, put some T.V. on in the background and hope that lightning will strike me.

I might go through more than one pot of coffee.

I'm excited. I've never purposely written a script in such a short amount of time. I have been on the acting end of this, but quick writing side is new territory for me.

I'll update in the morning. Because I'm sure I'll make it to sunrise.

Stepping in Rivers

My own writing has really taken a backseat these days. I'm not actually complaining as I have been filling my time rehearsing for a show. What show you ask? This show: c. 1993 (you never step in the same river twice). It's a collaboratively created theatrical event ("show" is not exactly the right word) that will include ballroom dancing to a boy-band song, Sleepless in Seattle told through word balloons, and a Nirvana mash-up to name a few things.

In many ways, I feel like I was built to be a theatre cross-trainer (a term I lovingly stole from a professor of mine). I've never wanted to be just an actor or just a playwright. In fact, I think as theatre artists, we do more harm to ourselves than good when we try and label ourselves like that. Devising gave me a good opportunity to use all of my skills, some I didn't know I have. And I've been trained by (what I think are) some of the best. Now, having been a part of roughly five collaboratively created theatre pieces in the last four years, I am no stranger to this sort of work. All of those experiences have provided me with the opportunity to develop my skills so usually when I walk into something like this I feel incredibly prepared.

With c.1993, I must admit, I feel a little out of my league. Being a show of entirely found texts, a lot of singing, and a moderate amount of dancing, I'm flexing muscles I haven't flexed in a long time...if ever. Because of that, I am valuing my experience in this show a lot. I guess I had gotten kind of cocky when it comes to devising. I figured since I had done so much of it, anything would be cake. What I seemed to have forgotten was that for every different theatre artist there is a different way to approach devising. I had been devising with roughly the same group of people for a long time. A group of people I grew to love, understand, and collaborate with very well. Of course there had been some conflict; you don't create theatre without conflict. In the end the product was usually something I could be very proud of.

It was time to step out of my comfort zone. It was time to be introduced into a new way of doing collaborative work. It was time to get to know a whole new group of people with a different style of working. And I didn't even know it.

This show is going to be awesome I think. I love the cast/crew and we're working together pretty well. It's definitely going to be an interesting experience for our audiences.

So.
See it.

Reflection

Artists reflect in the most interesting ways.

Today is the tenth anniversary of the attacks on the United States we now refer to simply as 9/11. I began the day with this facebook status: "i've been trying to find the right words to say how i feel about today. maybe it's more perfect that i can't find any words. remembrance. always." 

I think now I have some words. Maybe not words so much as a reflection. 

A couple of days ago I discovered the New York Times video feature called "The 9/11 Decade: Artists Reflect" (linked above). NYTimes discussed the tragedy and the last decade with eight artists from various artistic disciplines. I've watched most of the videos so far (and will surely make it through all of them). I think it is so interesting to listen to the way an artist processes an event of this caliber. For the most part, it seems, they find away to connect with 9/11 on a personal level, a concentrated level instead of in a big picture way. I encourage you to watch these videos. 

I too connect with 9/11 in as personal a way as I can. It's how I make sense of the world in general and the only way I know how to make sense of such a big event. As a playwright, I have attempted to tackle the subject focusing on the aftermath of 9/11 on the relationship of two sisters. The younger sister, Joni, is struggling to move on with her life when there is no one left to take care of. The older sister, Claire, is struggling to be the guidance for her floundering younger sister.

Joni focuses on remembrance: "You never had to sit down with mom's grief either. You weren't here to watch any of it. 'Don't bother your sister at school.' She said that almost daily. She desperately wanted you to be around but she didn't want to bother you. She was spiraling. She did the opposite of this. She stopped eating. She stopped getting out of bed. Then she stopped breathing. I had to sit there and watch her disappear. Once we decided papa was really gone, her soul left with him. It was her empty body that stayed behind. Those five years were the most painful of my life. There was nothing I could do for her. No amounts of walks in the park or old movies. No amount of reassurance could ever bring her back from the rubble." 

Claire seeks retribution: "Oh, enough with that already! Listen to me. I did take the easy way out. I was afraid.  It was easier to redirect my anger into something else. Law. Law is intense and requires all the energy you have. And I chose International Law. I had a whole world of things to learn. It distracted me; it still distracts me. And that way, if it comes down to it, I can prosecute the people who fucked up my family. But no, you are so right Joni. I never sat down with my grief, as you put it. Because sitting down with your grief adds two hundred pounds and makes you useless to society. But I‟m sure you know something about that."

I think I tend to lean more towards remembrance, as Joni does. I personally, didn't know anyone on the east side of the country. The most personal connection I had to the World Trade Center was a desire to visit Windows on the World, a restaurant at the top of the one of the towers. My mom and I had decided that for my graduation present we would go to New York City and that would be one of our stops. 

But that was still years away. When the first plane hit the first tower I was in my first week of high school. The minute my mom opened the door and said "A plane just flew into the World Trade Center and they don't think it was an accident," my life was dissected in two. A cliched as it sounds there was innocence before, and fear, cynicism, and adulthood after. Most days, I honestly do not remember my life before 9/11 because it seems to me, it has always been this way. This is the world I operate in and I do my best to get by. Scratch that, I do my best to figure out how I can thrive in modernity. 

As a person, I'm still exploring ways to make sense of what happened ten years ago and 3000 miles away from where I was at the time. As an artist, the same is true. 

Everyone has a different way of dealing with a tragedy. Some dwell, some run, some are touch and go. Some people's lives have stopped and will stop in the future because of 9/11. My goal is simply to honor the memory and delve into the story in anyway I can. My goal is to listen to the collective silence that settles over the country every now and then. It is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.

Can you hear it? 

The power of good feedback.

I feel like the creative wheels are turning like a hamster on crack running feverishly in its cage. The show has yet to even begin rehearsals and the ideas are percolating. I'm trying to keep them at bay and not get too many preconceived notions in my head about the topic or the way the process is going to be. So, in the mean time, I'm putting my energy towards other creative endeavors. Or, at least, I should be.

One of them is this year's edition of NorthNorthwest. Trust me, it's coming. Slowly but surely it is coming. It will be here. By the end of summer, it will be here.

Otherwise, I'm working with a group of lovely ladies to try and put together a showcase of my work. Those lovely ladies are as follows: Anna Townes, Emily Kight, Amanda Woodard, and Shannon Erickson. They've been patient in waiting for me to get all the one-acts into workable form. In fact, it was (and still is to some extent) taking so long that I finally called them together regardless of the state of completion of these one-acts. In fact, I called them together because of the state of completion of (one of) the one-acts.  I was stuck, utterly stuck on my 9/11 one-act I'm working on. I was hoping for help.

Having the ladies together in one room reminded me of the power of good feedback. In a few short hours, a couple of readings, a lot of wine and cheese and some tangential conversation, they gave me enough jumping off points that I currently feel a little overwhelmed but in the good way. As a playwright, there is always a risk in asking for feedback. You have to know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em so to speak. It may not be the advice you need to help you along, it may not be advice you even want but if you have the right group of people working with you, helping you, the advice/feedback/comments can make all the difference in your process (and give you a kick-ass title). These ladies are the right group of people.

So, we're getting closer. The original plan was to have Related Strangers (that's the kick-ass title) fully produced by the end of summer. Unfortunately, for some good reasons, that looks like an impossibility. However, I think we can get a full staged reading up by the end of the year and produced by spring...? Hopefully. But we are moving, in a forward direction even.

[Good] Things are Happening

I'm in a show.

I must admit that is a statement I didn't think I would get to utter for some time yet. Still, as of yesterday afternoon, this statement is all mine.

I'm in a show.

Excuse my excitement and almost disbelief. I'll get to the good stuff now. The show is called c. 1993 (you never step in the same river twice) and it will be at Annex Theatre on Capitol Hill in Seattle. (more info here) It's a collaboratively created show based on events in 1993 and the idea that men who are bad boys are often idolized while women who are the same are considered "hot messes."

This is the kind of work I crave, love, hope for. I think I'm made to be a "theatre cross-trainer" as Rich Brown would put it. I mean, in the last four(ish) years I have been in five collaboratively created shows. It'll be a great adventure as I don't know most of the people in the ensemble as I have in the past.

It'll just be good to be in the creative atmosphere again. And yes, there are more good things happening but that'll have to be for a different post.

Atrocious.

"Atrocious" is, of course, referring to my ability to update this blog in a consistent and timely manner. I'm not going to make any promises (as I have in the past) that it will get better. But I will promise you this post. Just this one.

It's been a busy few months in the writing sector. I'm trying to get three one-acts ready to go. A group of friends and I are planning on self-producing them. Dates, time, and venue TBD. However, we cannot get started on the act of production until all three one acts are written. So far, two are "finished." That leaves one of them unfinished. And I'm stuck. I've been staring at it for weeks.

People are waiting for me to finish them.

I'm feeling a sort of pressure I've never felt before. Not just the pressure I put on myself concerning the quality of work but the pressure of everyone's desire of a new project. It's this pressure that continues to remind me that I need to go to grad school. I don't quite have the discipline to (apparently) get these one-acts done in a timely manner. 'Sides, I love school. It's time to go back.

I have been auditioning a bit too. Not enough. I feel like I'm trying but not trying hard enough. As in, not looking for enough auditions or going to them. It seems writing has taken over my life recently. I don't want that to be the only thing I do though.

On an up note, I am now on the board of Northwest Playwight's Alliance. I'm also having a short piece of mine read at their monthly reading series tomorrow night. So if you are around and like free events come see "The Last Tree" at Seattle Rep. It starts at 7pm and there will be another play being read as well. Finally, some of my work being seen in Seattle.

One step at a time.   

A hard month for Seattle arts.

Today Intiman Theatre made a sad announcement. After the last performance of All My Sons tomorrow, they will cancel the rest of their 2011 season and let go all of their employees until further notice. (See the Seattle Times article here.) This news makes my heart hurt. However, they are canceling their season with an eye on the future. Instead of pushing through with the 2011 season and maybe not making it after all, they will use 2011 to regroup and hopefully rebuild. I really hope they will come back and continue to produce the caliber of work they have been. My heart goes go to all the valiant employees, artists, technicians, designers, ticket office workers, concessions workers etc etc etc of Intiman Theatre. Thank you for giving me my first job in Seattle, my first opportunity to work in a professional theatre and a Tony Award winning one at that. I'm pulling for you.

This has been a rough month for the Seattle arts community. With the recent deaths of well-loved Seattle actor Mark Chamberlin and arts champion/leader Melissa Hines, I can feel Seattle artists reeling. Although I did not have the opportunity to meet either of these amazing individuals, the effects of their deaths on my colleagues has been palpable. I am saddened by these losses.

I am also scared for what all this turmoil means for Seattle's artistic future. I am beyond confident in the abilities of my colleagues, friends, fellow artists, and theatres in town to continue to uphold the artistic standards they have set and have encouraged me to try to achieve as well. I am more worried about our support. Whenever one theatre hits a bump in the road, people tend to worry about the future of all theatres. This is the time when, most commonly, supporters spook and pull away from the arts community.

But, this is the exact moment when I, with my whole heart, will encourage you (arts supporter) not to spook. It is only by your support and arts organizations supporting each other that the arts community will continue to stay strong and provide the over-arching community with evocative, creative, and world changing art. I cannot lie, many of us arts professionals are a little bit scared. The crashing state and government budgets which include slashes to the arts funding is terrifying. But despite it all, many organizations are doing exactly what they can to continue to provide our community the necessary and vital arts programs.

Seattle, look around you. Look at the art that is being done in your backyard. Downtown to Renton, Issaquah, Everett, Tacoma, Olympia, there is art being done everywhere by big theatres, medium theatres, collaborative groups and even individuals. We often think of the big theatres first (ACT, Seattle Rep, Village Theatre, 5th Ave - who all do fantastic work) but it is important to remember that art comes in all shapes and sizes. Seattle Shakespeare Company, Annex Theatre, New Century Theatre Company, Shady Lane Productions, Theatre Off Jackson, Open Circle Theatre, and Northwest Playwrights Alliance are all working long, hard, low paying hours, and sometimes no paying hours, to create art for you. And yes, the big theatres are also working those long, hard, low/no paying hours as well. (I am still relatively new to Seattle so those are just some of the theatres I can think of right off the top of my head.) Of course, I have mention Book-It Repertory Theatre as well, as I work there and am constantly in awe of the passion and talent of my co-workers and quality of work that our theatre puts out. Realistically, however, I have a vested interest in all arts organizations. As a playwright, actor, and fledgling director every theatre I see is a new opportunity. And every person involved in that theatre is a colleague and an inspiration. I am pulling for every single one.

None of these theatres can survive without your support. More importantly, none of these theatre artists can survive without your support. And they certainly can't survive without their art.  

After all that, I must also take a moment to thank the Seattle community for the support they already give the arts and their artists. For a recent college grad, it has been inspiring. And thank you, Seattle artists, for showing me what great art can look like.

You're continued support means the world to us. Really.

In fact, it means life to us.  

Conquering my fears.

Today I did my first audition in over a year. It was for Balagan Theatre, their general auditions. I must say it was terrifying but I am proud of myself. Before I left Western Washington University, I had some experiences that really made me question whether or not I could and should continue acting. After much agonizing, I realized (as I do over and over again and probably will again and again) that it only matters what I want to do, what I'm driven to do. It does not matter what anyone else thinks I should do. The essence of the message I was getting from certain educators was that I had to choose; do I consider myself a writer or an actor?

The answer?
Both. Always and forever both.

Still, after a year I was a little out of practice. So my motto for this audition was "Have fun. Don't fuck it up." I believe with that as my goal, I was successful! Like I said, I'm proud of myself. And that's all that matters.

So I'm a little lax.

If you are still checking this blog...and that's a big if...you'll notice I haven't blogged in about a month and a half. It's not that nothing is going on. I guess it's just because I haven't thought about it much. So quick recap:

- A group of lady friends and I are working on putting together a showcase of my work. We don't know when/where/how it will happen but it will happen. And since it is a showcase of my work, I have get writing. In fact, I should be doing that now instead of writing this blog.
- March submission: completed. Just under the wire.
- I will be directing a new ten minute play at ACT in April (thanks to the suggestion of my lovely and talented friend Dayo Anderson). It's part of a New Playwrights Competition for high school students. I'm excited to work with a new young playwright. The next challenge: casting 8ish people. Anybody? Anybody?

So that's my quick update. I'm going to try and update more often. Try.

Taking Steps

February submission: completed!
This time it was a poetry submission to a literary magazine.

Alright folks, I'm two for two here. I must admit I had to push myself to do this one for February. The only things I have "ready" that haven't been published or produced before is poetry. At least for plays, the produced stipulation is the one that gets me. Because, of course, what I have that would be ready to send somewhere has been produced before. That's what makes it the most ready to be submitted. Oh well, my poetry should be submitted as well. Plus, it's been awhile since I've written poetry and hopefully this will inspire me to continue with that aspect of my writing.

I also finally began my novel this weekend. It is already at a stalemate but it has been started which I must admit is a feat. I've been noodling on it for years now but every time I sit down to write, the idea of a novel scares me. I'm so used to writing purely dialogue and/or poetry that I am quickly discovering I have a lot of growth to do in the area of description.

At the very least, writing is happening!

New Play Map

Check me out on the new play map:

What I'm currently reading.

Taking a cue from Dennis Schebetta (If you don't read his blog, you definitely should. especially if you are working or want to work on a solo play.) I'm going to start recording what I'm reading. Because as he reminds us, what you are reading informs what you are writing. Plus, who better to learn from than already published authors?

So, what am I reading?

Well, I should be reading Great Expectations as it is the nice play coming up at Book-It. So, in theory, that's what I am reading. And I am...sort of. It stays in my purse and I pick it up now and then. I read most of it in college so it's really just playing catch up. I'll get there, but it is slow going.

What has really been on my mind lately is Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke. So far, it's incredibly insightful. I tend to really like books like this. There is something about an established writer encouraging a young, up-and-coming, struggling writer that is comforting to me. (That is also one of the reasons why I think Letters to a Young Artist by Anna Deavere Smith is a must have on any theatre artist's bookshelf.) No, I don't always agree with the advice given in these contexts but it is important to me to see how a person got to their advice. Their journeys are just as important to me as my own. We are interconnected by the simple nature of the craft. And I can always learn from a journey.

Next up: Wrecks and Other Plays by Neil LaBute. I must admit that Neil LaBute occupies a lot of space on my shelf. It is not always because I like his plays (Reasons to be Pretty, c'mon!) but because I relate to his style. And this book is some of his solo work so I'm interested to see how he approaches that.

The Apartment Series

I have a lot of blogging to catch up, it appears. So today: there will be two blog posts. And then...well you know how this goes.

You know that reading I keep saying I was going to throw in my house? The one I bought music stands for? Well, I finally did it! The Apartment Series: Brunch and a Reading, the first in the series happened on January 23rd. From now on, the plan is to have one at least once a month. Realistically, I'd like it to be salon style. I really want The Apartment Series to be an open forum for my artistic friends to come together and feed some need. Most of us work, probably too much and (I think) have been having a hard time finding a creative outlet. So that's what this is. Plus, it'll give me a chance to flex my hostess muscles and my cooking skills.

I'd say this first reading was successful. Small but mighty. There were about five people (excluding me) total for brunch. I think to be entirely successful for readings and what not, ten people would be a good number. This time it didn't matter because the play that was being read (one of mine) is in too early of a stage for a feedback session. I didn't think at this point in the play's development, feedback was going to be helpful to my process. But what was helpful to my process was simply being around my lovely and creative compatriots. Plus, to get to both share my work and act in the reading was a breath of fresh air.

The event in the series will be a dinner. I have a hankering to make lasagna. I'm not sure if I'll have anything to read for this one but we'll read something. That's really the important thing.

   
In other news: I have successfully submitted two things for January: a play to a festival in Seattle and a poem to a literary magazine at WWU. Now to search for contests, literary magazines, theatres and what have you for the month of February. It keeps me writing, that's for sure.

And when I write, I feel like I breathe easier.

Success!

Submission for January: completed!
Starting the year out right. [I mean, I've even worked out like twice now. Oh yeah!] Right now, the point to me is not necessarily to get anything produced. Although, let's be honest, I really want to have my work produced. However, I am trying to think about it in terms of setting a routine for myself. I need to make it the norm to enter/submit one thing a month. That also may insight me to set a normal writing schedule.

On a side note, I directed a 10 minute play for Northwest Playwright's Alliance tonight. Yay! My first thing is Seattle. More to come on that later.

I mean business.

Recently I bought music stands. Yes, music stands. I mean business here. I know have four music stands at my disposal for readings or what have you. It's a simple step [and one more thing to move in the future] to empowering myself to make my own theatre. They were cheap but they are nice. When I look at the one I set up in my room, I smile. Having it there is inspiration.

In an online shopping binge, I also bought myself a printer. I kept thinking "what kind of writer doesn't have her own printer?" Really, it's more inspiration. It'll help with all those submissions to contests, theatre, literary magazines that I'm going to send...

Speaking of which...

It's a Year of Magical Thinking

I think I stole that title. It sounds familiar...

Regardless, here we are: twenty-eleven. Oh dear. Two thousand and ten was a big year for me. I had some of my writing done, I was in a couple of shows, I graduated from college, I found my way into the professional theatre world. It seems pretty surreal mostly but I'm almost certain it happened. I do have my flimsy diploma in its cover sitting on my window sill. That must mean it's real, right?

For twenty-eleven I'm setting goals, not making resolutions. Resolutions seems flimsy to me (like my diploma) and it seems too awful when you "break" them. Goals are something you can attain, things that don't necessarily have expiration dates. So here they are:
1. Actor Fitness: get some.  Basically eat better, work out. Generally be healthy.
2. Enter a contest, submit to a literary magazine, etc. etc. at least once a month. That'll keep me writing. Or at least editing.
3. Get "The Apartment Series" up and running. Once a month (or every couple of months) host a reading/salon lunch/brunch/dinner/evening in my (or someone else's) apartment. That way us creative types can get together and fulfill some of the urges we've been having. (Not like that, silly.) The first one is January 23rd.

And those are goals for me for...awhile. I feel good about them.

Happy New Year all.

For my personal goals see: http://scooperwrites.blogspot.com/