On leads, supporting characters, and robots

I got an interesting email today. A director in Illinois said their theater had produced The Enchanted Bookshop Musical and he wanted to submit a couple of the actors for their local theater awards. The problem is he didn't know which award to submit them for. Were Eddie and Fingers leads or supporting characters?

Now before we go any further, I want to clarify something. May people argue that the lead, or protagonist, is the character who demonstrates the greatest arc during the course of the story.

Social media, for example is rife with examples of people arguing that Cameron is the real hero in Ferris Bueller's Day Off because Ferris himself never changes. He's the exact same character at the end of the film that he was at the beginning.

Well, that's just silly. A well-designed play (or movie or novel) will feature several characters who demonstrate an arc. It makes the story more interesting. It makes the story more realistic. And it gives the actors something to sink their teeth into.

Does that make all of them the protagonist? Of course not.

The protagonist is simply the character who drives the plot. And a well-designed play (or movie or novel) will feature exactly one of them. It just makes for a more focused, more compelling story.

The Enchanted Bookshop is an interesting case, however, because it features not one, but two separate plots. There's the daytime plot, in which Margie struggles to keep her bookshop in business. And there's the nighttime plot, in which the book characters come to life to battle the smugglers.

Clearly, Margie is the protagonist of the daytime plot. But who's the protagonist of the nighttime plot? After all, the six main book characters who come to life all play a role in defeating the smugglers who threaten to destroy Margie's shop.

But if you read the script carefully, you'll see that it's Dorothy Gale from The Wizard of Oz who acts as the conscience of the group. She's the one who continually urges the others to do the right thing.

So, no, Eddie and Fingers are not the leads of The Enchanted Bookshop. They're supporting characters. 

Sure, they have their own goals they're desperately trying to achieve. But those goals are not the main goals of the plot and are in direct opposition to our hero's goals, which makes them the antagonists. The bad guys, so to speak.

And that brings me to my final point. Just because a character isn't the lead, just because they have fewer lines than the main character, doesn't mean they're not important. 

As a matter of fact, every character in every one of my plays is important, even vital to the story. Seriously, I always plot my plays like a house of cards. Remove any one card--or character--and the whole thing comes crashing down. 

So rest assured, whether you have 331 lines like Jenkins in The Butler Did It! or 0 lines like the dancing robot who appears (and usually steals the show) at the end of  George Washington Ate My Homework, you have a very important role indeed.

Enjoy it. Savor it. And don't ever let yourself forget it.

Crowley County HS joins the club

A big shoutout to Crowley County High School in Ordway, Colorado for becoming the sixth member of my five-timers club, that very elite group of theaters that have performed my plays five or more times. 

Located in the high plans 50 miles east of Pueblo, CCHS may be a small school (just 250 students strong!), but it's got a super active drama club. These talented students produce two full-length shows a year, hold a ton of fund-raising activities, and even have their own Facebook page.

Here are the plays of mine they've produced:

The Enchanted Bookshop

An Enchanted Bookshop Christmas

Whole Latte Love

It Happened on Route 66 (shown above)

George Washington Ate My Homework (coming November 23-25)

Oh, and that production of The Enchanted Bookshop? Its cast represented almost 10% of the entire student body!

Keep it up, Charger Drama. You're doing a fantastic job!

George Washington comes to life

Of course, I'm talking about the play George Washington Ate My Homework, not the first president of the United States (although that would be pretty awesome too!). My time travel comedy just received its world premiere at Sacred Heart School in Mount Holly, NJ. And that makes this the play's first production photo.

You can see the fun they had creating the costumes (click on the photo to get a bigger view). From left to right, we have:

• Pirate (either Mary Read or Anne Bonny)
• H. G. Wells
• The other pirate
• Albert Einstein (love the hair!)
• The three kids at the center of the story (Junie, Naomi and Warner, although this production changed Junie to John)
• Grace Hopper
• Cleopatra
• Joan of Arc

The only historical figures missing from this picture are Florence Nightingale and old George himself.

When my publisher accepted the play last February, they'd asked for two changes. The first was to get rid of the scene at the end in which the audience members get to vote for their favorite historical figure. The problem was that this drove a dizzying array of alternate endings which made the play a lot more complicated without much payoff.

The second was to bump ip the urgency of the kids' efforts to return the historical figures to their respective time periods. The story made it clear that when the students accidently timeported George Washington into the wrong era, they messed up American history so badly that our country was no longer American. It was British!

Obviously, the students had to figure out how to timeport him back. But there was no deadline--what we in the writing biz call a "ticking clock"--and therefore no tension. 

Fortunately, in reviewing the script, I found a natural spot to add one. It was when the quite possibly mad scientist who runs the lab, Dr. Bizwang, drops by to pick up his telescope. By some miracle, the kids manage to keep the historical figures hidden from his prying eyes, and the scientist finally departs with these words:

DR. BIZWANG: All right. You can stay down here as long as you want. Just make sure to lock up when you're done.

No ticking clock. No urgency. No tension.

Big yawn.

So I changed it to this:

DR. BIZWANG: All right then. You can stay a little longer. Just make sure you clear out by nine o'clock. That's when my killer robot begins his nightly rounds.

Boom! Just like that, they have a deadline. And I do mean "dead" line.

Of course, once I'd mentioned the killer robot, then I had to show it. Chekhov's gun, you know.

So that's how I ended the play. Instead of a long, confusing interaction with the audience, I have a very brief, very funny scene in which the robot glides into the lab, checks to make sure that the place is empty, then proceeds to jam out to a tune on the boombox.

Normally, Pioneer doesn't like to have characters with no speaking lines. But in this case, it works well because it provides the perfect role for a surprise guest to pop in and steal the show with his dancing skills (or lack thereof).

That's exactly what Sacred Heart School did, casting their beloved fifth grade teacher Mr. Botello in the role. And from all reports, he was a big hit.

The best part? No lines to memorize!

To check out the script yourself, be sure and visit the play's web page. And tell them the killer robot sent you.

Free Read Friday

Subscribers to Pioneer Drama Service's newsletter are already familiar with Free Read Fridays. At the end of each week, Pioneer promotes one or more plays from their catalog by providing a link to a free downloadable copy of the complete script.

My plays have appeared on Free Read Friday several times in the past, sometimes on their own, sometimes as part of a themed collection (recent themes have included Children's Musicals and Christmas in July).

It's always exciting to see what plays they offer. But today I'm especially excited because for the first time, Pioneer is devoting the week's theme to a single author's works. And that author happens to be, well, me.

The five plays they selected are tied together in three key ways. They're all 60-80 minutes in length. They're all single-set. And they all feature my unique brand of humor (Pioneer's words, not mine😁).

The five are:

It Happened on Route 66

It's a Madhouse!

George Washington Ate My Homework

Million Dollar Meatballs

Whole Latte Love

Unfortunately, if you don't already subscribe to the newsletter, it's too late to download these. But I'd still urge to subscribe as soon as possible because the next four Free Read Fridays will also offer five (or more) free perusal scripts.

Pioneer calls it their Five-for-Five, and I think it's a fantastic deal. Where else can you get 25 perusal scripts--a $200 value--for free? The themes they'll be offering are Halloween shows, murder mysteries, fairy tale courtroom comedies, and contest pieces.

And yes, you can unsubscribe at any time. To add your name to the growing list of subscribers, just fill out their form here.

George Washington Ate My Homework is now available!

For the first time in ten months, I have a new play out! George Washington Ate My Homework is my 23rd play to be published by Pioneer Drama Service and 25th play overall. For the full scoop, including a synopsis, script sample, and ordering info, please visit the play's web page.

I may have struggled when I first tackled the story, but I'm really happy with how it turned out. There's a lot of funny dialogue and as well as some high-energy action (particularly with the way Florence Nightingale dispatches two of the nastiest pirates ever to sail the seven seas).

But the play also teach students what makes historical figures like Cleopatra, Albert Einstein, and H.G. Wells so great. And have you ever heard of Dr. Grace Hopper? I hadn't when I started writing the play, but in doing my research, I discovered that much of our modern-day computer technology is due to this groundbreaking--and hilariously sassy--pioneer.

In this play, she gets her due.

Something else I learned about was how time travel theory has changed over the years (turns out Albert Einstein wasn't right about everything!) and how some scientists currently think it might work, if it ever does. 

I don't go into excruciating detail on this in the play, just enough to pique the interest of any budding scientists in the audience.

Anyway, take a look at it. I think you'll really like it.

You might also learn a thing or two. I know I did.

George Washington Ate My Homework to be published

I have a file in my playwriting folder titled "Story Ideas." It's where I dump all the plots I've come up but haven't been able to break just yet.

Whenever I finish a play, I go through the file again to see if any of those old ideas click.

Filed away

Whole Latte Love spent a couple of years in that file. It started out as a You've Got Mail wannabe, with a large unnamed coffee chain trying to put a smaller shop out of business. I played around with that concept for a long time, but I still couldn't break the story.

Then I thought maybe it would serve a magical coffee. That didn't help either, because I couldn't decide which magical spell to use.

It wasn't until I got the idea of having the shop serve six magical coffees which get mixed up by a newbie barista that the story took off.

It Happened on Route 66 also spent a lot of time in that file, back when I thought of it as a 1950's version of Waiting for Godot. The idea was that the denizens of a greasy diner were waiting for a rock star, but he never shows up so one of the soda jerks is drafted to pose as him.

The problem was that it was too close to the previously published Pioneer play The Nifty Fifties. The solution was to flip the conflict, making it revolve around a celebrity (now a movie star) who arrives by accident (he car breaks down(, doesn't want to be recognized, and is forced to pose as a waitress in order to escape the press.

Time passages

But no idea spent as much time in that file as my time travel comedy. The concept was to make a historical Enchanted Bookshop, with several famous figures from history making their appearance and much of the humor coming from the anachronistic interaction among them.

There's one thing that all time travel stories have in common. They take place over several locations and several eras as our heroes travel through time fighting evil, righting wrongs, or just trying to get history back to the way it was before they screwed things up. And that was my approach too--at first.

But I soon realized such a play would be difficult to produce, requiring often cash-strapped schools to create dozens of sets and possibly dozens upon dozens of costumes (after all, those historical scenes would have to include at least a few background characters for authenticity). So I rejected it.

Besides, I prefer writing single-set plays. The format poses a fun challenge, and I love seeing the incredible detail theaters put into their sets when they only have to build one of them instead of dozens. 

Of course, the fact that my single-set plays sell a lot better was also a huge plus.

But how can you make a time travel play single-set? I racked my brain. I scribbled ideas. I deleted those ideas. I scribbled some more.

Nothing worked.

Stormy weather

Then one day I had a brainstorm. What if the entire play took place in a mad scientist's lab? What if the time machine he invented broke? And what if, as a result of that, our heroes timeport more and more historical figures into the present so that they have to figure out how to get them back?

Everything clicked. Except for one problem. How would our heroes know they changed history if they're stuck in the lab?

That's when I had my second brainstorm. What if there's a hamburger restaurant upstairs and our heroes realize something's wrong when a couple of employees come downstairs to complain about the noise and it turns out the restaurant has become a very British fish-and-chip shop?

I loved it. There was plenty of conflict. The situation was a gold mine for humor. And it would be a piece of cake to produce, with a single-set centered around a simple, boxy time machine and period costumes required for just nine historical figures.

A non-working title?

But what would I call it? Well, my working title was Hysterical Figures, but I knew that was corny as heck and didn't really communicate the fact that it's a time travel story.

For a while I went with Time Warped, which gets across the time travel idea but doesn't let potential customers know that it involves historical figures. (It was also the title of a short-lived Trey Parker show in the 90's, but I'm pretty sure nobody remembers it so that wasn't a concern.)

Then I remembered a middle-grade novel I'd written in the early 2000's titled George Washington Ate My Homework. The book only had one historical figure travel through time--the titular President--but it never got published so I figured I was free to reuse it.

The title was perfect for the play. It tells you it's a time travel tale. It tells you that at least George Washington travels through time. And it passes the smile test. 

And so, with the manuscript completed and a title selected, I sent it off to Pioneer and they accepted it 17 days later (second only to the 7 days it took It's a Madhouse! to get accepted).

Science stuff

There are so many good scenes, it's hard to decide which one to share with you. So let me give you an excerpt which shows how the three students who form the comical heart of the play find the time machine in the first place:

NAOMI: So what does Dr. Bizwang have you doing? Cleaning up and stuff?

JUNIE: No, of course not! I have a lot of responsibilities around here. I'm--I'm his research assistant. 

NAOM: His research assistant? What does that mean?

JUNIE: Well, um, it means I assist with his research. And stuff.

NAOMI: Stuff?

JUNIE: You know, like science stuff.

WARNER: So you understand what all these gadgets do?

JUNIE: Oh, yeah. Most definitely.

WARNER: All right. What does this thing do? (Picks up a random gadget.)

JUNIE: That? Uh, it's very technical. You wouldn't understand.

WARNER: Well, what does this thing do? (Picks up another gadget.)

JUNIE: Um, that's pretty technical too. You wouldn't understand.

WARNER: Is there anything I would understand?

JUNIE: Yes. Whatever you do, don't push the red button.

WARNER: What red button?

JUNIE: The one under the "Do Not Push the Red Button" sign.

WARNER: (Turns to the time machine.) Okay, you've got to know what this thing is!

JUNIE: I sure do. This happens to be a time machine.

WARNER: Whoa! You mean it can send us back in time?

JUNIE: Well, yeah. But I wouldn't recommend it.

WARNER: Oh, come on! We could skip surfing the web altogether! Do all our researching in person!

JUNIE: Listen to me, Warner. Last week, Dr. Bizwang tested the time machine by sending a mouse back to 1492 and it never returned. Do you know what that means?

WARNER: It found the world's biggest hunk of cheese?

JUNIE: No! The mouse is stuck in a time warp! Do you want to be stuck in a time warp, Warner?

WARNER: That depends. What's the cheese situation like?

The play should be released in time for the new school year in the fall, if not sooner. In the meantime, you can read the synopsis and cast list by visiting the play's web page on the New Play Exchange.

And if, while you're there, you check out some of my other plays, I'm not going to complain.