Strictly Playwriting #3
Taking out the trash.
I cleared two inboxes this last week. Does that count as strictly playwriting business? I’ve been avoiding those inboxes for like a year, and anxiously watched as they numbers kept increasing: 300, 667, 948, 1334…
How do you stay organized and prioritize your writing? I guess there is no right or wrong way, as long as the writing gets done. I don’t think there is correlation between bloated inboxes and writers block, but there was something oddly satisfying removing all this junk into the trash. Not to mention the satisfaction of clearing enough space so that I don’t have to purchase extra space from goggle. With those inboxes cleared, I felt a digital weight lift off my digital shoulders.
Last week, I went back and looked over my goals in my first strictly playwriting post and realized those goals are vague as fuck.
Read more plays
Write more plays
Watch more plays
Write about the plays I watched
Rewrite old plays
Revisit plays I never finished
So then I started to break down these goals into something more tangible. I challenged myself to read one play a month, and to attend a production once a month even if I have to pay for it. I also challenged myself to finally start rewriting scene two for “You don’t even speak Spanish!”, but with only a few days left in January, I might not get to reading a play or working on scene 2 this month.
I did however attend a production the other day, and I even paid for it too. I went to go check out Playwright Esther Banegas Gatica’s play Come Tomorrow directed by Miguel Ángel Lopez at the Frida Kahlo Theatre for their 10-minute play festival part 1. It always feels cool walking into that space, seeing familiar faces, and knowing that there is a place that is still accessible for new work in Los Angeles.
After every show I ask myself what did I learn as a playwright from that production. What I walked away with after watching those ten 10-minute plays, was how important it is to have fun and to be yourself. Esther’s voice and perspective is distinct and I loved how the title of the play, very cleverly and subtly worked on me. A poetic line that I loved was the phrase “creating worlds with your words” and Esther’s humor is always on point. Miguel also did a great job creating these frozen moments that allowed the play to expand into a magical realm, which I thought was very clear and effective.
I was inspired to go and write and practice the craft again, especially after not writing anything new these past couple of years. (Maybe that is another smart goal, write a 10-minute play or 10 new pages once a month.)
I also walked away reflecting on how fragile everything is right now. I don’t know if fragile is right word, but…tomorrow is not guaranteed and we as playwrights have this captivated audience for only a brief moment, (out out brief candle) and it would be a shame if that moment was wasted if it was all sound and fury signifying nothing. Sitting in the audience, I asked myself what do I want, and more importantly need to say, that no one else can say in a way that I can only say it to an audience right now.
I went back to clearing out my inboxes and preparing myself for the year ahead. Then I came across this:
Every time I get one of these, I simultaneously brace myself for the hope and the heartbreak. I get a flashback feeling of sitting in an auditorium in grade school hoping my dumbass did enough to get an award. This rejection email buried the lead in the second paragraph, but I didn’t feel like a dumbass for this one. I shrugged it off knowing that A.) I’m not a dumbass anymore, well maybe just a little bit, but I’ve come to accept it. B.) The play that I submitted Laugh Now, Cry Later has reached semifinal consideration in other places, so I know there is something there.
Rejection is a part of life, so I like to keep these types of emails in my inbox because it reminds me that I am trying. At the end of the day, in this fragile world, during these trying times, maybe trying is enough? Or maybe not?





Ojai doesn't know what it's missing.