Going Bananas! to be published

This is turning out to be a very good year for me. First I had a record-breaking number of productions for the 2025-2026 season, which I posted about in May. Now I'm happy to report that my fifth play for the year (and 37th play overall) has just been accepted for publication by Pioneer Drama Service.

It's titled Going Bananas! and it's a wacky comedy about the world of modern art. The play has a cast of 12 (1M, 2F, 9 any), uses a single art gallery set, and runs about 70 minutes.

First steps

I've been toying with the idea of setting a play in an art gallery for years. My original concept was to make it a comedy about the theft of a painting that was a cheap knockoff of a much more famous painting. I even thought of a catchy title: Who Stole Mona?

The problem is that stubborn old me wanted the theft to happen on stage during the play itself so that the audience could have fun trying to solve the crime themselves. Unfortunately, I never quite figured out how to pull that off.

Then in 2020, the very gifted playwright Michael Druce published a play with Pioneer titled Murder at the Art Show. That felt a little close for comfort so I dropped the idea forever.

Or so I thought. The thing is I've always loved art, and my mind just wouldn't let go of such a rich, potentially comedic setting. So earlier this year, after I finished writing Don't Rock the Boat! and was waiting for Belmont Day School to premiere 30 Minutes Till Boarding, I returned once more to the art gallery. And this time I came up with a premise that I was sure couldn't fail.

Three little words

Here's the synopsis:

When is a banana not a banana? When it's a priceless work of art, of course!

At least that's what an ambitious young art dealer named Danica discovers. Her first charity auction is about to begin and the movers who were supposed to deliver the art piece she's auctioning accidentally break it, making it completely unsellable.

That's when snooty art critic Winfield Jeppson peeks behind the unveiling curtain and spies a banana with the words "DO NOT EAT" scribbled on it. It was left there by one of the movers when his lunch was interrupted, but Winfield believes it to be a groundbreaking work of conceptual art.

Desperate to save the auction, Danica offers the banana for sale instead. To her shock, the bidding tops out at one million dollars. The charity is thrilled. But Danica faces a new dilemma when the mover returns for his banana. Can she convince everyone (including the mover himself!) that he's really an eccentric artist? Or will her entire scheme blow up in her face.

The seed

Reading that, you may assume that the play was inspired by the famous (or infamous!) art piece from 2019 that consisted of a banana duct-taped to the wall of an art gallery. And you'd be partly right.

But my original inspiration actually came about years before when I visited a small art gallery in my then-home of Colorado Springs, Colorado. The gallery was exhibiting an eclectic variety of art pieces by local artists and I found them to be, well, mildly interesting.

What really grabbed my attention was a chair in the corner of the room with a stack of old board games resting on it. I'm sure they were set there by the employees of the gallery so they'd have something to do when things got slow (which, from the looks of it, was most of the time).

Now, if there's one thing I love as much as art, it's board games. I grew up playing a ton of them with my brothers, and I wanted to see if I recognized any of these games.

That's when one of the gallery assistants came over and said to me, in a hushed voice, that the games were not one of their art pieces.

Well, duh.

Banana split

And so, when I was brainstorming ideas for the play, I simply merged the idea of a household object being mistaken for an art piece with the idea that a household object that's treated as art could sell for millions of dollars (that duct-taped banana, by the way, eventually sold for a whopping $6.2 million).

So I had my plot and from that point on, the story just flowed out of me. The challenge was in getting the tone right. Of course, it's very, very silly that a banana with the words "DO NOT EAT" written on it could generate a bidding war among a set of knowledgeable art buyers, and the play could have easily taken a cynical view of the contemporary art world.

But I didn't want to do that. I have a deep respect for contemporary art and the artists who create it, so while I do poke gentle fun at the snootiness of the characters I assembled for my play, I made sure to keep things light.

More importantly, near the end of the play, I have that ambitious young art dealer express in very clear terms the theme of the play. It's a hopeful thing that I think we can all agree with.

Art is all around us. All you have to do is look.

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.

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.

Mall Madness is now available!

Just in time for the new school year, Pioneer Drama Service has released my 29th play with them (and 33rd overall). Set in the 1980's, Mall Madness is a lighthearted romp through all those great fads of that wonderful decade: Rubik's cubes, Dungeons and Dragons, Sony Walkmans (Walkmen?), Swatch watches, boomboxes, and, of course, Air Jordans.

To read a script sample or review ordering info, visit the play's web page here.

It's a Mall World After All

Most of my early plays were set in fairly generic settings: an Old West town, a French restaurant, a mythical kingdom. But I've been having fun lately placing my plays in oddly specific locales.

It Happened on Route 66 is set at an actual 1950's diner in Winona, Arizona, which I made a point of visiting last year and discovered it to be very different that the diner I'd imagined when I was writing the play.

Thirty Minutes Till Boarding, a play I'm currently developing with Belmont Day School in Massachusetts, takes place at gate E7 of Boston's Logan Airport. 

And while the abandoned theater of Bringing Down the House is completely made-up, I placed it on a very specific street in Lower Manhattan for one very good reason.

Mall Madness is no different. I could have set it in any 1980's mall. But I decided to plop it down right in the middle of the Glendale Galleria in the San Fernando Valley of California. Why? Well, I wanted the laid-back, Southern California vibe that the characters in movies like Say Anything and Fast Times at Ridgemont High had. I also found that there are a ton of videos and photos of the place online, which inspired my own writing.

The Glendale Galleria also has a fascinating history in itself. It was the home of the very first Disney Store. The home of the very first Panda Express. It appeared in a number of 1980's movies, including Miracle Mile and Valley Girl. And Billie Eilish recorded her music video for her 2021 single "Therefore I Am" in the empty, after-hour corridors of the mall.

Of course, I don't expect directors to make their set a carbon copy of the Glendale Galleria. That would be insane. But I think that having something to look at will inspire them in their own work. They may end up going in a completely different direction. But at least they'll have a starting point.

Those Golden Treasures

One more thing about the play. Mall Madness is one of my few plays that features a full, minute-long monologue.

I know, I know. I should write more monologues as a way to introduce directors and actors to my plays through the audition circuit. And I've tried. I've really tried.

The thing is that my characters absolutely refuse to talk that long. They like to get to the point, their dialog taking a rat-a-tat rhythm that keeps things moving.

Well, that all changed when Darla, a teenage employee of Rooster Ray's, America's Poultry Palace, took the stage in Mall Madness. Her job was to hand out samples of the latest high tech food product: chicken nuggets. And she took that job way too seriously:

I understand, ma'am, but I'm not allowed to give you any more. My manager was very clear about that during my training. Why, I remember it as if it were yesterday. Come to think of it, it was yesterday. "Darla," he said. "Do you see this chunk of chicken in my hand? Well, this is no ordinary chunk of chicken. Oh, no! This chunk of chicken is going to change the world! For too long, mothers have suffered the backbreaking burden of roasting entire chickens in their ovens. For too long, their husbands and children have grappled with scrawny drumsticks and unwieldy wings at the dinner table. But today we are on the verge of a new dawn. Today the chicken chunk has eliminated those hassles forever by offering a source of protein that is not only easy to cook but delicious to eat as well. Which i why we must treat them as the golden treasures they are. No not hand them out willy-nilly. They are much too precious for that. No, our corporate rule--and it is an ironclad one--is that you are to distribute only one sample per customer. Not three. Not two. Not one and a half. Just one. One chicken chunk, now and forevermore.

Summing it up 

Mall Madness is a big, fun comedy jam-packed with crazy characters like Darla. But it's not all yuks. There's also a heartwarming message about teenage relationships and figuring out who your real friends are. And, of course, there's a ton of cultural references that will make any child of the 80's smile.

I think you're really going to love it.

You can check it out here.

UPDATE: Mall Madness booked its first production on August 27, just 6 days after it was released. That's a new record for me. Thank you, Mascoutah Middle School of Mascoutah, IL!

I'm thinking it's going to be very popular.

Mall Madness to be published

Good news! For the first time since December, I've got a new play accepted for publication. It's titled Mall Madness and it's being published by Pioneer Drama Service, my 29th play with them. This light-hearted comedy has a cast of 16 (6M, 8F, 2E), uses a single set, and runs about 75 minutes.

Write what you know

After the unexpected success of It Happened on Route 66, I'd decided I wanted to write another play capturing the spirit of a particular decade. But which decade?

Well, since I'd already done the 50's, there was only one obvious choice: those totally awesome 80's. I've always loved the 80's, and not just nostalgically. It was a huge decade for me in real life as well.

It was the decade that I graduated from high school. The decade that I met my future wife. And the decade that Tammy and I got married.

Nobody loved the 80's as much as we did. Cruising around in my black, rusted-out Chevy Nova. Bopping out to new wave bands like A Flock of Seagulls and the B-52's. Catching flicks like The Breakfast Club and Say Anything.

It was a wonderful decade to be young and in love.

So I had to laugh when, thirty years later, our teenage daughters became fans of the exact same bands and movies (rusted-out cars not so much). If they loved the 80's, then I figured there must be a lot of kids who would love to relive those golden days of yore onstage.

Choosing a setting

It Happened on Route 66 took place in perhaps the most iconic of 50's settings: a highway diner. So what was its equivalent in the 80's? Where did 80's teens gather to hang out and, well, just be teens? 

Nothing quite clicked. An arcade? Too hard to recreate on a stage. A video store? Kids didn't really hang out there for long. A school dance? Those had been done to death. 

Finally, at dinner one night, I mentioned my conundrum to Tammy. And, as so often happens, she immediately had the answer.

The mall food court.

I loved the idea. A food court is a rich, fertile ground for humor, with all the tacky restaurants and the potential for awkward social situations. It would be simple to stage, only requiring a few tables and chairs. And as far as I could tell, nobody had ever set a play in a food court before.

Next up: the plot

But what would the play be about? I knew Pioneer already had a couple of plays set in the 1980's, the musical Totally Awesome 80's and its slimmed-down version The Awesome 80's. And they're a lot of fun, basically big mash-ups of the famous movie plots and characters from that decade. 

I wanted to do something different. Think, think, think. Well, let's see. Another fun part of the 80's were the products that had seemed so modern and cool at the time but had since either faded from sight or become just a normal part of our everyday culture. You know, like Rubik's Cubes. And chicken nuggets. And Air Jordans. And boomboxes.

But I still had a problem. How do you build a story out of those?

I wrestled with this question for months. Then my wife and I watched a cheesy Hallmark movie titled Trading Up Christmas. It's about a successful young businesswoman from the big city (of course) who returns to her small town to help her financially-challenged sister get a home. How does she do it? By trading up from a simple Christmas stocking.

I had my plot! (Who says Hallmark movies are a waste of time?) From that point, the writing just flowed out of me and I completed the script in a couple of months. 

The madness begins

I'm very happy with how it turned out. Here's the synopsis:

It's the 1980's, and there's only one place you'll find all the cool kids (and not so cool kids) on a Saturday afternoon: the mall.

That's where Elwood is mooning over the queen bee of the school, Chanel. Elwood longs to take Chanel to see her favorite girl band, the Lipsticks, but he knows he has two strikes against him. One, he's a Dungeons & Dragons-loving nerd. And two, the concert is completely sold out.

Elwood's luck seems to turn when he helps out a mysterious young woman who rewards him with a pair of tickets to the very same concert. But before he can ask Chanel to go with him, brutish high school quarterback Brock swipes the Trapper Keeper where Elwood has hidden the tickets.

There's only one way to get the binder back from Brock without tipping him off to the treasure inside: Offer him a brand new pair of Air Jordans in exchange, Unfortunately, Elwood can't afford such pricey shoes. But if he trades a boombox for the shoes, and a Walkman for the boombox, and so on and so forth, Elwood might finally get the tickets by giving up the one thing he values most: a cheap D&D miniature!

And yes, the boombox from the movie Say Anything does play a key role. As does a very important tray of chicken nuggets.

Mall Madness should be released before the new school year opens this fall.

The Worst Fairy Tale Ever to be published

Some Christmas presents come wrapped in pretty paper and bows. Some come in fancy gift bags. And some come in a simple 5x7 envelope.

Of course, they're all good, but this afternoon I was especially excited to see that familiar envelope in my mailbox because it came from Pioneer Drama Service and it contained the contract for my latest play, The Worst Fairy Tale Ever. That's right. They're going to publish it, making this one-act comedy my 28th play with Pioneer and my 32nd play overall.

Since the play was commissioned by Belmont Day School, I've already spoken at length about its development (namely, here and here and here) so I don't have anything more to say about the play at this time. Instead, I'll do something I haven't done before and share an excerpt from the play.

This scene occurs near the beginning of the play after the narrator--the only member of the cast who's read the script--informs the actors that they're just going to have to wing it.

NARRATOR: (Reads.) A long time ago in a land far, far away, there was a king named Roderick (Pause.) I said, there was a king named Roderick! (Pause. Calls OFF LEFT.) King Roderick! Yoo-hoo!

KING: (ENTERS LEFT out of breath, adjusting his crown.) Sorry. I forgot which part I was playing.

NARRATOR: You're King Roderick.

KING: Oh, right. Thanks for clearing that up.

NARRATOR: (Reads.) Now King Roderick was a very wise king—

KING: (Poses dramatically.) Two plus two is four!

NARRATOR: (Reads.) But he was also very sad.

KING: (Sobs.) Oh, why is two plus two always four? Why can't it ever be five?

NARRATOR: That's not why you're sad.

KING: It's not?

NARRATOR: No. It's because your page has brought you horrible news.

KING: Let me guess. The peasants are about to storm the castle?

NARRATOR: No.

KING: The queen is about to storm my man cave?

NARRATOR: No. Well, yes. But that's not as horrible as what the page has to say.

KING: It's horrible enough.

NARRATOR: All right. Well, if you must know, a giant, fire-breathing dragon has crossed the border into your kingdom and is attacking the peasants.

KING: I don't know. I still think the man cave thing is worse.

PAGE: (ENTERS LEFT.) Your Majesty! Your Majesty! I bring horrible news! A giant, fire-breathing dragon has crossed the border into your kingdom and—

KING: I know. The narrator just told me.

PAGE: (To NARRATOR.) Hey! That was my line!

NARRATOR: Sorry. He wormed it out of me.

I expect The Worst Fairy Tale Ever to be released this spring. In the meantime, if you'd like to see the synopsis and cast breakdown, just hop on over to the play's web page on the New Play Exchange (subscription required--and highly recommended!).

Too Many Ghosts to be published

 
Something spooky is coming your way. And I'm not talking about Halloween. No, I'm talking about the fact that my 31st play has just been accepted for publication by Pioneer Drama Service. It's titled Too Many Ghosts, and it's set in a hilariously haunted bed-and-breakfast in Salem, Massachusetts.

That spark of inspiration

I've spoken before about where my play ideas come from. Big surprise! They come from a whole hosts of sources: brainstorming, TV shows, old Warner Brothers cartoons, other plays, even dreams. But Too Many Ghosts is the first time I've been inspired by a TV show I'd never seen. Can you guess which one?

Bingo! It's the currently-running CBS sitcom Ghosts. When the show was first being promoted in early 2019, the premise instantly grabbed me. A show about a bed-and-breakfast haunted by not one, but a motley crew of ghosts from very different time periods? I'm there!

That's when I made the point of not watching the show. I didn't want to be accused of copying it. But more importantly, I didn't want to be influenced by the narrative choice that the creative team had made. I wanted it to make it my own.

A touch of magic

When you write a fantasy type of story--and by that I mean anything that includes magic or the supernatural--it's important to be very intentional about the rules you define for that world. That's because the plot, the mood, even the theme of the story will be driven by those rules.

For example, when I wrote The Enchanted Bookshop, these are the rules I created for the famous literary characters who are brought to life:

1) The characters are brought to life through a fairy's magic spell.

2) The characters are not allowed to leave the bookshop or be seen by humans (cats are okay!) or they'll disappear into their books forever.

3) Scatterbrained bookshop owner Margie doesn't have a clue that her book characters are coming to life.

Rule number 1 inspired the wonderful character of the Book Fairy, who's resented by the literary characters because she can be kind of a nag.

Rule number 2 is why the literary characters only come out at night, which gave me the structure of 

It also set up the main conflict of the play as the literary characters are forced to choose between revealing themselves in order to warn Margie about the smugglers threatening her shop and staying silent so that they can continue to come to life. 

The fact that cats are given an exception allows me to stage some humorous interactions between the cantankerous bookshop cat Bombalurina and the literary characters.

And rule number 3 provides for some additional humor as Margie suspects that the messes that the literary characters leave are due to Bombalurina.

Needless to say, if I'd changed any one of these rules, it would have been an entirely different play.

Ghost stories

It's the same thing with Too Many Ghosts, though here I went in a different direction:

1) The ghosts can be seen by anyone, but only when they choose to be seen.

2) Levelheaded owner Jo and her horror-film-loving teenage daughter Lily definitely know the ghosts are haunting the inn from day one.

3) Ghosts can't be destroyed a la Ghostbusters, but with the proper equipment, they can be shrunk down and locked away inside a small, everyday item.

Rule 1 means that the ghosts could be a threat to Jo's business, with the ghosts threatening to scare away her guests so that they can keep the once-abandoned house to themselves.

Rule 2 allows the story to cut right to the chase as Jo forbids the ghosts to haunt her guests. Of course, the ghosts can't help themselves, leading to an online review from a guest describing the place as the "most haunted bed-and-breakfast in New England." The consequence? The inn is soon mobbed by ghost-loving tourists.

Rule 3 gave me the critical turning point of the play as three marginally competent ghostbusters rid the inn of the ghosts--seemingly forever. Where did they go? And how can Jo stay in business without her primary draw: the ghosts?

After I finished the play and sent the manuscript off to Pioneer, I finally gave myself permission to read the Wikipedia entry on Ghosts. I was relieved to discover that the rules for that show were vastly different from the rules for mine. The biggest difference is that in Ghosts, only the woman who inherited the inn (and later her husband) can see the spirits. As you might expect, this means that much of the humor revolves around the awkwardness that occurs when the ghosts interact with the woman in the presence of other people and she has to pretend she can't see them. Not a possibility in my play.

Of course, the personal histories and characteristics of the two sets of ghosts also differ drastically. I've got a cranky Irish maid, a persnickety cobbler, a boisterous snake oil salesman, a self-absorbed silent movie star, and a clumsy teenager. The CBS show has a melodramatic Viking, a cynical Native American, a closeted gay Continental Army officer, a drug-addicted matronly type from the late 1800's, a flamboyant Prohibition-era lounge singer, a naive hippie, and a nerdy scoutmaster.

So yeah, mine are entirely family-friendly while theirs are quite a bit edgier. And I think that's great. There's a place for both.

Oh, I also thought that Salem, Massachusetts--one of the most haunted towns in the United States--was the most logical setting for a show about ghosts, and allowed me to tie in a little bit of the history surrounding the witch trials. But the producers of Ghosts decided to set their show in upstate New York (not sure how a Viking ended up there, though).

Playing tricks

I expect the play to come out in spring 2025. In the meantime, let me leave you with this scene from when Jo and Lily first meet the ghosts.

As the scene begins, the ghosts are hiding in the living room so that they can jump out and scare these two interlopers who threaten the sanctity of their spooky home: 

LILY (Fans herself.): Do you mind if I open the curtains? It's kind of stuffy in here.

JO: Sure. I'll go bring in a couple of boxes. (JO EXITS DOWN RIGHT. LILY crosses to the curtains.)

ROLAND (Hushed, to ORLA): Now?

ORLA (Hushed.): Can ye see the whites of her eyes?

ROLAND: I don't know! My eyes are shut!

ORLA: Well, open 'em up and look! (LILY opens the curtains. ROLAND sees LILY. LILY sees ROLAND.)

LILY (Screams.): Aaaah!

ROLAND (Screams): Aaaah!

JO (ENTERS DOWN RIGHT, running): Oh, my gosh, Lily! Are you all right?

LILY (Points at ROLAND.): It's... it's... it's a ghost!

ROLAND (Points at LILY.): It's... it's... it's a mortal! (The OTHER GHOSTS come out of hiding.)

ORLA: Roland, ye yellow-bellied milksop! Ye ruined our whole plan!

BARNEY: Good job, Roland!

CASSANDRA: You don't take direction very well, do you?

JO: Whoa!

LILY: Mom! I thought you said there's no such thing as ghosts!

JO: That's right! There isn't!

ORLA: Well, what do ye call us then?

JO: Why, you must be a figment of my imagination! A hallucination brought on by a combination of stress and exhaustion! Yes! That's it! I must be so exhausted my mind is playing tricks on me!

CASSANDRA: If I were a figment of your imagination, would I be able to do this? (Waves her arms and laughs ominously.)

JO: I don't know. What are you doing?

CASSANDRA: I'm creating a cold spot to chill your blood and make shivers run up and down your spine!

JO: Nope. Not feeling it.

CASSANDRA (To the OTHER GHOSTS.): See? This is what happens when you don't get to practice your art!

BARNEY: Here, Cassandra. Let me try something.

CASSANDRA (To JO.): Ooh, watch this! This'll frighten the socks right off you!

BARNEY (Knocks one of the housewares off the counter.) There.

JO: Is that it?

BARNEY: What? I'm a poltergeist. This is what I do.

JO: I think it would have been scarier if we couldn't see you.

BARNEY: Well, that's not my fault, is it? I'm not the one who insisted on apparating prematurely... Orla!

I'm thinking this play might be really popular, not just at Halloween but all year long. After all, it's got everything audiences want. Humor. Chills. A creepy mystery. Even a little romance.

But more about that last one later...

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.

Bringing Down the House is now available!

When Belmont Day School first approached me about writing a large-cast play--no, make that a huge-cast play (we're talking 40 roles!)--I expected it to be tough.

I mean, how do you come up with that many characters? How do you manage them on the stage? And how do you make sure every role is meaningful?

As is turned out, it was tough. But there were two steps I took to simplify things.

Making each role count

The first was to group characters together. I had the six members in the family. I had three ghost hunters. I had five tourists. I had five cheerleaders. And so on and so on. This made it easier to manage the characters because it allowed me to move them around in groups.

The second was to assign different personalities to each character within a group. For the cheerleaders, for example, I had a tough one, a sweet one, a bossy one, a confused one, and a perky one. In each situation they faced, I knew exactly how each of the characters would respond and I knew that each of those responses would be unique to that character.

It worked. The play was, for me, an artistic success, telling the amusing, action-packed, and yet emotionally powerful story of a dysfunctional family becoming, in the end, functional.

But it was a financial success too, as the play (along with its one-act adaptation) garnered 74  productions in its first full year of publication, placing it second on my list of popular plays.

Apparently, a lot of schools are interested in huge-cast plays. And it makes sense. After all, it allows them to involve a lot more actors in their program, including kids that may not have performed before but are eager to trod the boards with a small but laugh-worthy role.

An odd request

Well, now my second huge-cast play is out, and I have even higher hopes for it. This one is titled Bringing Down the House and it has an only slightly smaller cast of 38 (7M, 5F, plus 26 roles that can be any and extras). The play is about a struggling theater company that's forced to throw together a show in just two hours when they learn that the theater they rented is about to get demolished.

Sound crazy? It is. But there's an added twist that makes this one irresistible. Belmont Day School requested that it be a musical without songs.

What's that you say? How is that even possible? Well, the idea they came up with is that during the rehearsal, the various performers would prepare to burst into song, but each time they do, they get interrupted before they can even sing one note.

I loved it. And that's what led me to the concept of the theater being demolished in the first place. I mean, how can you even rehearse a musical when you have to deal with an endless array of intruders, from an annoying child actor to a publicity-hungry politician, and from a group of confused protestors to the bumbling demo crew itself?

The play is wild. It's fun. It's hilarious. And--big surprise!--it's easy to produce.

Keeping things simple

Since the play is a backstage comedy, you can use your own bare stage as the set, adding only a few minor items like a table, chair, and two building columns.

The props are fairly minimal as well, although there are two swordfights--one with stage swords and one with sledgehammers and protest signs (trust me, it makes sense)--so you'll have to prepare for that.

As for the costumes, those are almost entirely street clothes, with a few hard hats and professional outfits thrown in for good measure.

Okay, enough jabbering. You want to read the full synopsis, don't you? Well, you can find that on the play's web page, along with a free script sample and ordering info.

Hopefully, you'll have a lot more than two hours to rehearse this show.

Freaky Tiki to be published

Well, I'm flying high. I just received the contract for my 26th play with Pioneer Drama Service, and 30th published play overall.

Aloha 'Oe

This one's a comedy titled Freaky Tiki and it's set at a Hawaiian resort loosely inspired by the partly idyllic, partly creepy one in the HBO dramedy The White Lotus. Of course, the sex-charged plot lines of that Emmy-winning show would be wildly inappropriate for the schools that form the core of my customer base, but I figured I could do something clean and funny in that lush, tropical setting.

That something came from another favorite show of mine, The Brady Bunch.

Anyone who grew up watching the sitcom, like I did, will remember the famous three-episode arc in which the Bradys visit Hawaii and youngest brother Bobby discovers a tiki figure which brings no end of bad luck to the family.

But I didn't want to copy that plot. I needed a twist.

Lucky charms

As I was doing my research for the play, I discovered something interesting. It turns out that in Polynesian culture, tikis are not bad luck at all but are actually considered good luck, bringing power, knowledge, wisdom, and wealth to their owners.

That gave me my twist. What if the staff of the resort blames a string of bad, even disastrous, luck on a tiki that was left behind by a mysterious guest, only to see all of the bad luck turn into good luck by the end?

There was just one problem. I still had to figure out exactly what kind of bad luck befell each of the guests.

I brainstormed for weeks, but none of the ideas I came up with felt quite right. Frustrated, I put the script away.

New eyes

When I came back to the script a couple months later, my path became clear. And that's because I realized I needed to make the curse more specific. The tiki didn't just bring bad luck to whoever touched it. It made them lose whatever was most important to them.

This allowed me to play around with the concept of loss. What different kinds of things can people lose?

Well, obviously, you can lose a valuable like a pricey engagement ring. This inspired a pair of characters: an obsessive young man determined to carry out the world's most elaborate wedding proposal and his sweet but suspicious girlfriend.

You can lose your voice. This led me to a controlling, past-her-prime opera singer and her harried assistants.

You can lose a person. That gave me a group of technology-challenged matrons who wander away from a hike led by the resort's perky activities director, only to become hopelessly lost in the rain forest.

Then, just for fun, I had the resort's hot-headed French chef lose the giant lobster he was planning to cook for dinner. This was the link that tied everything together, since the crazy chase that ensues leads to an even crazier chain of events in which the lobster ends up solving everyone's problems. And everyone's happy.

As I say in my synopsis, sometimes bad luck is simply good luck in disguise.

An excerpt

Want a little taste? Here's the beginning of the play, in which we meet the hapless staff:

ELAINE: Good afternoon, staff. As you know, we here at the Wobbly Palms Resort pride ourselves and being the finest two-and-a-half star resort in Hawaii. And if it hadn;t been for that incident in the goat yoga class last year, we'd still have that third star.

KIKI: Sorry, boss. I didn't think the goats were going to be that big.

ELAINE: Those weren't goats, Kiki. They were yaks.

KIKI: Tomato, tomahto.

NALANI: You would not be saying that if you had to clean up after them.

ELAINE: Look, I know you're all trying to do a good job, but you've got to try harder. The owners are already struggling to make ends meet. If we scare off any more guests, they'll be forced to close the resort for good.

KIKI: They can't close it down!

SPENCER: This is the oldest resort on the North Shore!

MAURICE: What weell we do? Where weell we go?

ELAINE: The unemployment line, probably. But the reason I called you all here was to share some good news. I just got word that a representative from the world's largest hotel chain will be visiting us, and if he likes what he sees, he just may buy the resort.

KIKI: That would be great!

NALANI: We would finally have the money to fix up this dump!

SPENCER: We could all save our jobs!

MAURICE: When ees thees person coming?

ELAINE: I don't know.

MAURICE: What ees hees name?

ELAINE: I don't know that either.

MAURICE: Well, how weell we know who he is?

ELAINE: We won't. That's the point. He needs to stay incognito so that he can objectively evaluate our cleanliness, our efficiency, and most of all, our hospitality. That's why it's important for all of us to remember our motto.

NALANI: We have a motto?

ELAINE: Yes, we have a motto! Come on! What do I always tell you guys?

NALANI: Stop snooping through the guests' belongings?

ELAINE: No, not that thing. the other thing.

MAURICE: Do not throw a temper tantrum in front of ze guests?

ELAINE: A good idea, Maurice, but not what I would call a motto. Spencer would you like to try?

SPENCER: If you drop one more bag, you're fired?

ELAINE: No, no, no! Our motto is every guest deserves the best!

(The STAFF mumbles ad-libbed comments like "Oh, yeah," "Right," and "Now I remember.")

If you subscribe to the New Play Exchange, you can read the full synopsis, cast list, and a 20-page sample on the play's web page. If you don't subscribe, you might consider doing so. For just $12 per year, you get access to the biggest, most easily searchable play database on the web.

I've been a member of the New Play Exchange since it first launched in 2015, and while I was a bit skeptical of it at first (I doubted theaters would actually use it), I've become a huge proponent since. 

Give it a whirl! I think you'll be glad you did.

Route 66 learns to sing (and dance)!

Musicals have always played a big role in my life. I was nine years old when I first fell in love with them, seeing You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown at my hometown community theater. I loved the songs. I loved the humor. I loved the performances. But I especially loved the fact that the actors were people I knew from around town. Seeing them bring those beloved comic strip characters to life was a new form of magic for me, and that magic continued for all the other shows I saw on that stage, from Mame to Camelot to 1776.

Not surprisingly, cast albums played a big role in my life as well. Every summer, when my family piled into our station wagon for our annual two-week camping trip--sometimes east, sometimes north, usually west--it was often cast albums that provided the soundtrack. Our favorite, the one we nearly wore through from replaying and replaying, was My Fair Lady. As I looked out the window, the spectacular mesa-dotted landscapes filled me with wonder, but a part of me found that Lerner and Loewe score to be just as wondrous.

Then there was the time I decided to crack open the big freestanding cabinet in our basement--the one which was primarily used to hold up my dad's ashtray and had remained unopened for years--and discovered it held a veritable treasure trove of cast albums. The shows represented were a little weirder than what the community theater or our summer camping trips offered. I remember Li'l Abner was there. And something called Fiorello! But Camelot was there. And The Music Man. And--oh, my goodness!--West Side Story. That last album was the one I snuck up to my bedroom so I could fall asleep to those brilliant, heartbreaking melodies night after night.

So yeah, musicals have always been important to me. But I never dreamed I'd help write one.

Which is why I was so thrilled six years ago when Pioneer Drama Service approached me about turning my play The Enchanted Bookshop into a musical. And why I'm just as thrilled that they've now offered to do the same for It Happened on Route 66.

The title of this musical jaunt down America's Highway? A very succinct Route 66.

Last time, Pioneer contracted Stephen Murray to provide the music and lyrics. This time, it's the prolific Scott DeTurk, who has worked extensively in TV and industrial films and has been produced at important regional venues like Denver's Buell Theatre and Minneapolis's Guthrie Theatre. And did I mention he studied under the late great Lehman Engel?

I'm excited to see what he comes up with. The play features not one but two romantic couples so I expect there will be some great love songs. But there's plenty of potential for comedic tunes as well, from diner owner Cookie lamenting Otis's gluttonous ways to Sally teaching Lovey all that colorful diner lingo. Of course, seeing that the play is set in the 1950's, it's a no-brainer that the score as a whole will be inspired by those great early rock 'n roll songs.

Look for Route 66 to come out sometime in 2025.

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.

Tennessee Route 66 wins Pioneer photo contest

A big congrats to Mt. Pleasant Middle School in Mt. Pleasant, TN, for winning Pioneer Drama Service's annual photo contest. The winning photo can be seen at the top of this post, which came from their production of my 1950's diner comedy It Happened on Route 66. The contest judges noted that the photo won for the dynamic action and expression of the young actor as well as the fine detail of the costumes and sets.

I remember seeing the school's production photos when I first came across them on Facebook last November, and I couldn't be prouder for their well-deserved victory now.

For their prize, the school gets $250 towards their next Pioneer production and this awesome photo will be included on the cover of Pioneer's fall catalog.

But wait, there's more! Caledonia-Mumford Middle School in Caledonia, NY received an honorable mention for the action-packed photo below, a fun glimpse into their production of my treasure hunt comedy It's a Madhouse! They earned this honor for capturing the madcap energy of the play and for the keen attention detail in the set.

Well done, all! And don't forget to enter next year's contest, which should open sometime in the spring!

Pioneer's photo contest is back

Got some great production photos you'd love to share? Want a chance to win up to $250 in Pioneer Drama Service materials and royalties? Well, now you can combine both by entering Pioneer's annual photo contest.

The rules are simple. Email up to five photos to PhotoContest@PioneerDrama.com with the name of the play or musical, name and location of the producing group, and name of the director.

And yeah, the photo above is the kind of thing they're looking for: great set, colorful costumes, lively action, and fun facial expressions. 

Of course, the show has to be from Pioneer and must have been performed in 2023 or 2024. The deadline for entries is May 10, with the winner and two runners-up (each winning $100 in Pioneer stuff) being announced on May 21.

The really cool part? The winning photo will be featured in Pioneer's next catalog! You know your actors are going to love that. 

But don't take my word for it. Get all the deets by reading Pioneer's latest newsletter . And start sifting through those awesome production photos today!

Belmont diary: It's a Madhouse! to be published

I thought the three weeks it took An Enchanted Bookshop Christmas to get accepted for publication fast, but It's a Madhouse! blew that away. It took just seven days from when I submitted the play To pioneer Drama Service to them accepting it.

And I couldn't be happier. Not just for me, but for the kids and faculty at Belmont Day School who worked so hard to bring the play to life. I know it'll mean a lot to them to see their names as part of the world premiere credit in the script.

It'll be interesting to see how this play does. As I've said in my previous posts chronicling its development, the play was specifically written to meet school Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion requirements. It also has a massive cast--40 actors in total. It's one of the biggest full-length plays Pioneer has ever published. I know it's the biggest one I've published.

The script should be released in time for school this fall. In the meantime, let me tease you with this scene introducing the first of literally dozens of intruders who threaten the Pembroke family's search for the treasure:

HOBSON (Opens UPSTAGE DOOR. GEORGE and HARRIET ENTER, holding novels.): May I help you?

HARRIET: Look at this place, George. Isn't it just a dream?

GEORGE: Oh, it's more than a dream, Harriet. It's an absolute vision!  

HARRIET: This is exactly how I pictured his house, you know. All ominous and spooky.

GEORGE: Spooky indeed. In fact, I might almost call it "sinister."

HOBSON: Excuse me. Is there someone you'd like to see?

HARRIET: Oh, yes. Byron Pembroke, please. We're his biggest fans.

HARRIET and GEORGE hold up their novels.

HOBSON: I'm sorry, but Mr. Pembroke is... indisposed.

HARRIET: That's all right. We'll wait right here until he's disposed again.

HARRIET and GEORGE start toward the sofa.

HOBSON: No, no, no! Don't sit down!

HARRIET (Sits.): Oh, but we must. Our feet are simply pounding.

GEORGE (Sits next to HARRIET.): They're a virtual symphony of pain.

HOBSON: All right, fine. He's dead.

HARRIET: Who's dead?

HOBSON: Mr. Pembroke. The man you're waiting for.

HARRIET: Well, that was rather sudden.

HOBSON: Actually, it happened several days ago. 

HARRIET: Oh, dear! And to think we never got to tell him how much his books have meant to us! Isn't that tragic, George?

GEORGE: More than that. It's a genuine cataclysm of sorrow.

HOBSON: And now that you've made that point abundantly clear, I really must insist that you leave—

HARRIET: Oh, we can't leave.

HOBSON: What do you mean you can't leave?

HARRIET: Didn't you hear? The bridge is out.

HOBSON: Surely you're joking.

HARRIET: He doesn't believe me. George, dear, would you tell this nice manservant about the bridge?

GEORGE: Oh, you should have seen it. It was a disaster of the highest magnitude!

HOBSON (Calls OFF LEFT.): Mr. Pembroke!

HARRIET: I thought he was dead.

HOBSON: What? Oh, uh, Mr. Pembroke is dead. I mean that Mr. Pembroke is dead. I'm calling the other Mr. Pembroke. The one that isn't dead.

If you want to know when the play is released, keep checking back here. You'll be the first to know.