The early mouse gets the cheese

Every time I write a new play, I hope for two things. One, that it'll get published. And two, that it'll get picked up quickly, with schools and community theaters falling over themselves in their rush to be the first to produce it. (Okay, that's only a slight exaggeration.)

Of course, step one comes before step two. But not today.

And that's because I just received an email from a teacher in Ontario who's interested in licensing Mouse in the House for a production in March.

That is, like, crazy early. Pioneer accepted the play only four days ago. Heck, I haven't received the contract yet.

How did she know about it? I'm glad you asked!

She found it on the New Play Exchange, the digital library owned and operated by the National New Play Network.

As soon as one of my plays get accepted for publication, I'll post it in two places. The first is the Plays tab of this blog. There I list all of my plays from newest to oldest. Since this list is only intended to whet your appetite, each description is brief, providing the genre, cast size, length, and a one-sentence synopsis. Nothing more.

The second is the aforementioned New Play Exchange. Here I generally list my plays from most popular to least popular, although I usually slide my newest four or five plays to the top.

This list is much more comprehensive. You get a longer, more detailed synopsis. You get a full cast list with character names, descriptions, and number of lines. You also get a direct link to a script sample as well as the page where you can license the play on the publisher's website.

What makes this database especially powerful is that you can search for exactly the criteria you're interested in. Genre. Cast size. Setting. Even keywords such as "single set" or DEI. They're all searchable.

The only drawback? To use the database, you've got to buy an annual subscription. But it's dirt cheap--just $12 a year--and well worth it since it gives you access to the largest online database of plays in the world.

It's a no brainer if there ever was one.

So, yeah, this blog is still the best play to learn when I'll be releasing a new play. But if you want to scan a list of all my plays, then I urge to cough up that $12 (if you haven't already done so) and bop on over to my New Play Exchange page.

Mouse in the House to be published

It may be a week before Christmas, but I already got what I wanted most. Pioneer Drama Service just informed me that they'll be publishing my 35th play, Mouse in the House. And unlike the creature in that C. C. Moore poem, this one is definitely stirring!

The play is a wild farce in the spirit of my full-length comedies Bringing Down the House or It's a Madhouse! It has a cast off of 33, slightly smaller than those two plays. And it requires only a single living-room set.

Here's the synopsis:

To solve their financial woes, Jeff and Quinn are forced to sell the charming Victorian home that Quinn inherited from her parents. Unfortunately, just as their open house is about to start, Quinn spies a mouse in the upstairs hallway.

Their realtor Moira is mortified. She wants to hire an exterminator to get rid of the mouse before any potential buyers see it. Kindhearted Quinn, however, insists that no traps, cats, or poisons be used. And so, unknown to the others, each of the three calls an exterminator specializing in "humane" methods.

One uses kazoos, one uses Viking weapons (Quinn didn't say anything about war hammers), and one dresses in a mouse costume in an attempt to get rid of the rodent. The result? Pure havoc as the exterminators prove better at chasing off the potential buyers than the mouse!

How did I come up with the idea? Well, that's an interesting story in itself.

When I brainstorm ideas for new plays. I usually start with the location. I ask myself: what setting is fresh and new (for me, at least) and offers a lot of potential for humor?

That's how I came up with Freaky Tiki (Hawaiian resort), It Happened on Route 66 (1950's diner), and Whole Latte Love (coffee shop). But after completing my last play, Mall Madness (1980's food court), I was stuck. I couldn't think of a single setting that met my requirements.

Then one day, I was watching the Netflix series No Good Deed and as soon as I saw that it was set during an open house, it hit me. I don't always need a unique location. A unique situation can work just as well. And an open house is one situation that's rife with possibilities.

I tossed around the idea of having a murder occur at an open house, but that seemed a little too dark for me. So then I imagined what else could go wrong during that open house. I thought about the couple having their pet hamster get loose, or their pet snake. But everything began to click when I realized the only really good idea is to have a mouse running amuck in the house.

And not just any mouse. This mouse would be their neighbor's super-talented movie star mouse (think Stuart Little if that film had featured a real live rodent instead of a CGI figure).

It was a natural. All I had to do was throw in a few crazy exterminators, a money-hung realtor, a pair of obnoxious HOA officers, a confused pizza delivery person, and I had my plot.

Oh, one more thing. Mouse in the House wasn't its original title. I actually submitted it to Pioneer as Eek!

Personally, I loved the title. To me, it instantly created a picture in the mind of what is was about--and a funny one at that.

But it immediately ran into problems. When my editor Brian received my email featuring the one-word subject line of Eek!, he freaked out, thinking I'd found a mistake in the script they'd just released (my one-act comedy, A Fine-Feathered Murder). Needless to say, he was relieved to learn that subject line was merely the title of my latest play.

Then when I received the acceptance email today, Brian addressed the title again. He said that when the staff there started reviewing the script, some of the readers thought it might be a ghost story or a mystery.

It made a lot of sense. To me, "eek" always meant someone had seen a mouse, but a quick Google search showed that, yeah, some people use it for ghosts as well. And Merriam-Webster simply defines it as an interjection "used to express surprise or dismay". Which I guess includes everything you might be scared by, from spiders to zombies to public speaking.

So I agreed to dump that title. Fortunately, Brian already had another one ready to go: Mouse in the House.

I liked it. A lot. It tells you what the play's about. And it makes it clear that the play is a comedy.

I still have a couple months to see if I can come up with something even better. But for now, Mouse in the House it is. Look for this furry farce to receive a spring release.

No, not that kind of spring.

Upstate NY school goes mad for Madhouse!

One of the best parts of being a playwright is meeting with students who've performed one of my plays (it's certainly more fun than the actual writing!). Which is why I'm on a natural high right now. I just got off Zoom with the talented theater students at Chazy Central Rural School in upstate New York and, man, did I have fun!

This was actually the second time I've spoken with students from this school. Last June, the school's drama teacher Kathryn Brown reached out to me because her students were in rehearsal with my one-act comedy The Worst Fairy Tale Ever and she thought it would be a great experience for them to chat with me (as it turns out, that production was the first one of the final published script).

The kids had a ton of great questions, and their crazy energy and excitement really made my day.

So I was thrilled when I heard from Ms. Brown last month that they were performing my full-length farce Madhouse! and wondered if I'd be willing to speak with the students again.

My answer? I resounding yes!

This time we had the call after their production instead of before, and it was interesting to see how that simple shift changed the questions entirely. Instead of asking how they should perform their characters (I'm always leery of giving directing advice, but Ms. Brown said it was okay), this time the students were more interested in learning how I came up with the different characters and why did they make the choices they did in the story.

Of course, their energy and excitement were just as crazy as before.

Which is why I'd like to remind all of the drama teachers and directors out there that I remain available for half-hour Zoom calls. If I get bombarded with requests, I may have to start charging for them, but for now they're completely free for any school, homeschool group, or community theater that's performing one of my plays. Simply email me at todd.wallinger@gmail.com to start the conversation.

Survival Island! comes to life

The contestants signal for help from a passing helicopter

The world premiere of my new comedy Survival Island! is in the books--and what a premiere it was! The show was produced by my friends at Jacksonville Performing Arts in North Carolina, and they went all out in creating the set and costumes for this reality-show satire. They even built a volcano at the entrance to the theater! Best off all, the audiences loved it.

Getting this premiere was especially important to me because my usual publisher, Pioneer Drama Service, passed on the script. I fully intend on submitting it to another publisher, but before I do that, I wanted to get at least one production to prove the play is not only producible but marketable. 

Of course, the production photos--JPA took over 200 of them!--will also help.

Investment banker Michelle seeks to
corner the market in seashells

Pioneer didn't tell me why they passed on it, and I didn't ask. But I suspect it may be because they felt that the play was too grim.

Admittedly, Survival Island! starts a little darker than most of my plays. The play centers on the eight cast members of a Survivor!-type reality show, and as soon as filming for the show is about to begin, they discover that the entire crew perished when they fell into a volcano. Now the contestants are entirely on their own.

At first, they vow to work together. But soon, they divide into competing mini-countries when their only food source runs low.

Anthropologist Edith and chef Andrea
disagree about the best way to run the island

Toward the end, they finally learn to work together, but not until after an epic fight in which their few remaining bananas serve as effective, if very silly, weapons

That's when they finally come up with the solution that'll allow them to get rescued: Build a battery out of a banana so they can charge the one satellite phone they have (yes, banana batteries really work!).

Only then does the crew reappear, revealing that the volcano incident was all a ruse. They'd faked their deaths in order to heighten the tension and increase the show's ratings.

So yeah, the play ends up being not as dark as it sounds.

The Battle of the Bananas

Now that JPA has produced the play and sent me their photos, I have everything I need to submit it to the next publisher on my list. Which I will do, as soon as I figure who that is.

In the meantime, you can license the play directly from me for the very reasonable fee of $60 per performance. For a free perusal script or to discuss licensing further, simply email me at todd.wallinger@gmail.com.

Building the banana battery

A Caribbean Enchanted Bookshop Musical

I'm beyond thrilled for my Trinidad and Tobago premiere today as the Native Caribbean Foundation opens a twelve-show run of The Enchanted Bookshop Musical. This makes my 25th country overall and my first in the Caribbean.

The Native Caribbean Foundation does a lot of work with marginalized communities, bringing the magic of theater to people who may not have experienced it before, and this production is no exception. One of the performances includes a sign language interpreter for deaf persons. Another is a relaxed performance for those with sensory sensitivities (think dimmer lights, lower mic volumes).

As president and CEO Marlon Espinoza put it in a recent Pioneer Drama Service newsletter article,  "I feel an immense amount of personal satisfaction and joy at being able to provide these children with a life-changing experience."

The best part? Both of these special performances are completely free for attendees.

 

I wish I had some stills to show you, but the foundation primarily relies on Facebook and Instagram reels, which I'm unable to copy here. Instead, I urge to go check out the wonderful work they're doing by visiting their Facebook page or Instagram page.

As for the theater, it's truly a beaut.

A Fine-Feathered Murder is now available!

There's fast. There's super fast. And then there's lightning fast.

I'm talking about the speed with which Pioneer Drama Service published my latest play, A Fine-Feathered Murder. It's my 30th play with them and my 5th new play this year.

But first, the deets. A Fine-Feathered Murder is a one-act comedy about an opera-singing parrot that gets bumped off. It has a cast of 8 (2M, 4F, 2 any), uses a single set, and runs about 25 minutes.

So about that speed. I submitted the play on August 26. Pioneer accepted the play on October 9. And they made it available on their website today. That makes 77 days from submission to publication, and that was after I delayed my editors a week so we could get a Louisiana middle school's world premiere into the script.

And by the way, that was only 139 days from when I started writing the script. Whoosh!

Why did it happen so fast? Well, for one thing, the publisher told me the script needed very little editing. Except for a few minor changes, it was ready to go from the start.

But they also see a huge market for it. It's short. It's funny. It's super easy to produce. And it's a fresh take on a well-loved genre. As far as I can tell, there isn't another murder mystery in which the victim is a parrot. Or really any other avian creature.

This play really is for the birds! (Sorry.)

I've already told you how I came up with the premise for the play. I've shared a fun excerpt from the script. So all that's left is to tell you what the darn thing's about. Here you go:

Apollonia is a very unusual parrot. Not only can she talk and sign, but she can perform Verdi's opera Rigoletto from start to finish. 

That is why her oh-so-snobby owner Lilith has invited a few special people to  private recital by the parrot. Unfortunately, just as the recital is about to begin, Apollonia is discovered lifeless at the bottom of the cage.

All signs point to murder. But who could have done it? The greedy impresario who hoped to cash in by sending Apollonia on a worldwide tour? The sinister ornithologist who wanted the fame of probing the bord for scientific purposes? Lilith's long-suffering husband? Their fun-loving but opera-hating teenage daughter. Their forgetful elderly neighbor? Or their cheeky, outspoken maid?

I just know you're going to love this one! To find out more, please visit the play's web page.

A Fine-Feathered Murder to be published

Great news for those who love short mystery comedies (or is it comedy mysteries?). Pioneer Drama Service is going to publish my newest play, A Fine-Feathered Murder, a very British drawing room mystery in which a bumbling town constable struggles to solve the murder of an opera-singing parrot. The play has a cast of 8 (2M, 4F, 2 any), uses a single set, and runs around 30 minutes. 

All of the characters are over-the-top in their own way, but the most over-the-top are a greedy impresario named Ashton Sinclair and a creepy ornithologist named Doctor Snively (I got that last name from a former coworker of mine, who always sounded vaguely villainous to me--the name, not the coworker).

Snobby Lilith Farthingstone has invited them to her country estate to hear her parrot Apollonia sing the entire score of Verdi's opera Rigoletto and these characters have two very different reasons for being there.

ASHTON:  Well, Dr. Snively, you seem especially nefarious today.

SNIVELY:  I'm afraid you're the one who seems nefarious, Mr. Sinclair.

ASHTON:  Good doctor, I have no idea what you mean.

SNIVELY:  Don't play coy with me. I know exactly why you're here. You wish to exploit this magnificent specimen by putting her on the stage!

ASHTON:  A specimen, is she? Something to be poked and prodded like fungus in a petri dish? At least I'm offering her an opportunity to be lauded for her artistry!

SNIVELY:  Her artistry? Don't make me laugh! Under your guardianship, she'll be treated more like a bear in a circus than an artist!

ASHTON:  Your arguments are futile, Doctor. You watch. Someday I shall have Apollonia for my very own!

SNIVELY:  You stay away from her! That bird is mine, do you hear? Mine!

LILITH:  (ENTERS RIGHT.) And how are we getting along, you two?

ASHTON:  Just peachy, Mrs. Farthingstone. 

SNIVELY:  Oh, yes. Peachy indeed.

LILITH:  I just knew you two would hit it off!

You know, it's funny. A Fine-Feathered Murder and The Worst Fairy Tale Ever, which came out in May, are the first one-acts I've written since my first two plays got published thirteen years ago.

I honestly don't know why I've waited so long. These plays were a blast to write. The writing went very quickly. And if early results from The Worst Fairy Tale Ever are any indication, they should do very well. 

Yep. I'm going to have to write some more.