Mouse in the House is now available!

My 31st play with Pioneer Drama Service (and 35th play overall) has just been released! It's titled Mouse in the House, and if you love my crazy, over-the-top farces like It's a Madhouse! or Freaky Tiki, then you'll definitely want to check out this one! 

Rodent trouble

Mouse in the House is a full-length comedy about Jeff and Quinn, a young couple who see a mouse in the Victorian home they're selling just moments before their open house is set to begin. Their hard-driving realtor Moira has the solution. Call an exterminator--and fast!

But kindhearted Quinn puts her foot down, insisting that no traps, cats, or poisons be used. And so, unbeknownst to the others, each of the three calls an exterminator specializing in "humane" methods that include everything from kazoos to Viking weapons (after all, Quinn never said anything about swords and war hammers!).

The result? Pure havoc as the exterminators prove better at chasing off the potential buyers than the mouse!

Mouse in the House has a cast of 33, although with doubling you can perform it with as few as 18 actors. The play uses only a single living room set and runs about 70 minutes.

If you'd like to know which Netflix original series inspired Mouse in the House, check out my earlier post about the play here (you might be surprised!). If you prefer to read a sample from the script or review the ordering information, simply bop on over to the Pioneer website by clicking here.

The perfect town

I've posted about how lately I've been setting in my plays in oddly specific locales. Well, I continue this pattern with Mouse in the House, which I've set in Wabasha, Minnesota.

Why Wabasha? Bear with me. There are actually several parts to that answer.

The process of choosing the location started with one of the exterminators that were called. They're intended to be a legitimate exterminating company with the unlikely name of Sheldon's Touchy Feely Pest Control. The thing is that the exterminators happen to be avid Viking reenactors as well, which explains why they arrive with those nasty Norse weapons in hand.

Vikings? Yeah, that meant that the play had to take place in the great (and painfully frigid) state of Minnesota.

But which city? Well, as I said, the story takes place in an old Victorian. The home means a lot to Quinn--she grew up there, after all--and I felt it would seem even more meaningful if it had some history and some elegance to it.

When I Googled a list of Minnesota cities noted for their Victorian homes, the first one that popped up was St. Paul. Well, that city is just too big. I wanted to set the story in a charming little town.

The next few places on the list held more promise: Stillwater, Minnetonka, Rochester. I suppose any of those would do. But I also wanted the town to be quiet. Very quiet. One of the couples looking to buy the house got themselves into a horribly noisy situation with their current home (think planes, trains, and golf balls) so they're desperate to find a place that's way more peaceful and relaxed.

So my next step was to Google the quietest town in the Gopher State, and I was pleased that the answer was a place with a very musical, very Minnesota-sounding name: Wabasha. This picturesque town of 2500 flannel-wearing souls on the Mississippi River turned out to be perfect. The nearest airport is 40 miles away, there's not much train activity (other than the Holiday Train I refer to in the script), and golf courses are minimal.

It wasn't until later that I learned that the town was also the setting for Grumpy Old Men, the 1993 comedy starring Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau. Which makes me very happy. Mouse in the House may not have an all-out brawl on the ice. But it's got plenty of grumpy characters.

I just hope it makes people laugh as much as that beloved film.

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 asked Santa for. 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 mouse 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 then 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.