Mea Culpa

Much to the chagrin of some, I have made no secret that the last seven days have been extremely difficult ones for me. Instead of excitedly preparing for and seeing the premiere of my new play, I watched it crash and burn, along with some pretty significant and longstanding relationships.

I have spent a lot of time reflecting on the events of the past week and what is involved when working on a developmental piece. Now that the smoke has started to clear and I have moved beyond my initial disappointment, I would be remiss if I didn't point a few things out. This is not a post about full disclosure or pointing fingers, so I won't share all of the sordid details. However, it is important that I share a few of them.

In fairness to the theater and to the cast, when we started this process the script was not complete. It was nowhere near it. We began rehearsals with a couple of scenes and then, over the next few weeks, I would provide a scene here and there. We did not have a full script until three weeks before our scheduled opening, which we had to push back. Even after finishing the script, I was tweaking and rewriting. I cannot imagine how frustrating that must have been for the actors. I know how difficult it was for me as a writer to complete the script, I am sure it was just as hard for the actors who were anticipating pages, only to repeatedly come up empty handed.

I have also learned the importance of open communication and testing understanding. These are tactics I use in my office environment all the time but not as often as I should in my theatrical endeavors. The words "in development" can be interpreted differently by different people. I should have been more forthcoming with the theater and the cast about what I perceive "in development" to mean. I think we could have avoided a lot of confusion and tension if we had been more up front about the expectations we had of one another.

I am, without doubt, a flawed person. One of my biggest flaws is my inability to say "no," which often results in me over-committing myself. In this instance, that character flaw ended up working against me as I tried to juggle work, family and volunteering while attempting to write, direct and oversee the production of a new play. Promises were made and were not kept because, through nobody's fault but my own, the hours and the energy were in short supply. 

Over the past week, in writing about my personal feelings and sharing my disappointment, I have egregiously neglected to share a very important point. The cast and the crew that were involved in this production gave everything they had, despite the constant challenges they were faced with. They were very committed to their roles, to the piece and to the theater. Without their efforts, I would not have been able to create the characters that now live on the pages of this script. Whatever the next step, I will be forever grateful for their talents and contributions.

This chapter of my life was a difficult one to write. I have made every attempt to be as honest and forthcoming as I can be. I hope that the people who care can see that. I am a firm believer that there are two sides to every story and then there is what really happened. I have learned some very hard lessons and I hope that the knowledge I've gained will prevent me from making the same mistakes down the road. With this blog, I am not attempting to garner a sympathy following or trying to make excuses, I am only chronicling this journey because it is an important one for me. 

Mea culpa. I'm sorry. Time to write the next chapter.

The Value Remains TBD

The scant four decades I have have been on this Earth have wrought many stories. I am a storyteller who has spent three of those decades in the theatre - that's 75% of my life. Therefore, it makes sense that I am a writer who is compelled to bring my stories to the stage.

If you are reading this post it is likely because you are a friend of mine. This blog is fresh enough that it hasn't garnered much of a following outside of social media. In a way, that is a good thing. This post is for my friends and family, my colleagues and the people who know me.

Tonight was meant to be the world premiere production of my new play A Gift of Undetermined Value. However, due to creative differences, the theater made the decision to cancel the production. I won't go much more into it. Differences are differences and everything happens for a reason.

I am still relatively new to this. I am no Beth Henley (see how I chose a female Pulitzer Prize winner there?) but I am a playwright. And I am a fairly decent one at that. I have proof positive on that declaration. Google it.

This particular story was inspired by a high school friend's relationship with a man who murdered his wife and three children. My friend was a New York Times reporter. While he was in the process of being fired from his job at the Times for blending several stories into one, a murderer, Christian Longo, was assuming his identity and living the high life in Mexico. The result was a bizarre and fascinating relationship that resulted in a book and a movie deal. The basis of my play, however, was the the next chapter of the Christian's life which explores the bio-ethical issues of organ donation by death row inmates inspired by his organization GAVE.

My play takes the bio-ethical issues of organ donation by prison inmates and intermingles those issues with the dynamic interpersonal relationships of family, marriage and friendships in the aftermath of a tragic situation. The story is still good and I am proud of it. It has a future. I am confident.

I am sad that this snowy March night in Connecticut will not see the premiere of my play. But I am happy that I am able to make the rewrites I felt it needed. When it finally does move forward, it will be with confident steps and with the support it deserves.

Frozen

Structure. Deadline. Criticism. Marketability.

These words can make a writer quake in his (or her) boots. I've learned, though, that no word is more frightening to a writer than the word "frozen." We are four days away from presenting the first workshop production of A Gift of Undetermined Value and, without doubt, we are 99.7% frozen, save a word change here and there. Understandably, the actors in this production requested a frozen script about two weeks ago.

It is times like this that I wish I had the luxury afforded writers working on a new piece opening Off-Broadway or (wishfully thinking) on Broadway. Even writers working on a work-in-progress at the O'Neill Theater Center have this luxury: the ability to rewrite up to the night (or afternoon) before a show opens.

As I sit in rehearsal and watch talented actors make my words sound better than I believe them to be, I feel like the man in the photo above. Frozen, bound and yearning for warmer temperatures. I know that I can change a word, a couple of lines or a scene and make it so much better. Yet I am bound by being frozen. What a horrible feeling.

I know I am not alone. Many creative artists of note have obviously struggled with this. My favorite Stephen Sondheim show Merrily We Roll Along has been rewritten and reproduced more times than I care to count. Stephen Schwartz rewrote the end of Pippin, one of my favorite shows. And let's talk about the Costco scene that was written out of the Pulitzer Prize-winning musical Next to Normal.

Our show opens on Thursday and what will be presented is the script that has spent most of its time sitting in the freezer for two weeks. But rest assured, I have been taking copious notes and have spent many hours rewriting scenes and characters for the next chapter, which is planned for June 2013.

When the script and my hands thaw from the frostbite, this play will be on fire!