That happy feeling

I just got back from my playwriting workshop, The Drama Lab. And all I can say is, why didn't I start one earlier?

Writing is the loneliest of artistic pursuits. Hunkering over a laptop for hours every day doesn't exactly contribute to social agility. Plus, writers tend to be introverted anyway, keeping the world at a safe and observable distance.

So it can be easy to get down about your own writing. I can't tell you how many times I've been tempted to toss out my current work, a dark backstage farce titled Kill the Critic! In fact, I did set it aside for two years because I didn't know where to take it.

But now I'm working hard on it and making progress. And it's all because of the Drama Lab. Their comments help me point the story and characters  in the right direction. Their laughter lets me know which jokes work and which don't. And their energy makes me eager to go home and write more.

If you're a playwright, I strongly recommend you join a playwrtiting workshop. Don't have one in your town? Start one.

Seriously, if I can do it (and I'm the least outgoing human on the planet), anyone can.

Lester unleashed

I'm pleased to announce that my second play has just been published by Pioneer Drama Service. Long Tall Lester is a one-act western comedy about a meek encyclopedia salesman who's drafted to fight the dreaded outlaw Billy Black.

Long Tall Lester is a lot of fun and is chock full of over-the-top characters that kids love to play (one high school student told me it was the most fun she ever had in a role).

The fact that it also teaches a great lesson about the power of brains over brawn can be a secret between you and me.

To learn more, visit the Pioneer web site. A perusal copy is $5.50 (cheap).

Christmas in May

The day I've been anticipating for almost a year finally came today.

My first royalty check!

How much was it? Well, let's just say I won't be quitting my day job soon. But it was more than I expected. And my editor was more than pleased with the numbers: 10 performances and 121 scripts sold.

Why? Because the play publishing biz is different than other entertainment fields. While books and CD's and movies expect to make their biggest splash their opening week--while the property is fresh--play scripts need time to grow.

After all, by the time the new batch of plays come out, most drama teachers have already planned their productions for the coming year. So they'll order a perusal copy, read through it, think about it.

And then, after a year--or five or twenty--if the teacher likes it and happens to have the right cast for it and gets approval from the Powers That Be, then and only then will they produce it.

So really, it's a minor miracle that any play gets done its first year in print. And it can only get better from here.

Those 10 performances, by the way, came from 8 productions in 7 states--MD, ME, MN, MT, ND, TN and TX. So you know what that means.

Only 43 to go.

A new frontier

I suppose every playwright dreams of having a full-length produced. Sure, 10-minute plays are fun to write and can pack quite a wallop. And one-acts have their own unique draw, offering much more depth while maintaining a convenient bite-size package.
But the glory is in the full-length. I mean, let's face it. How many great American short plays can you name? (Well, there's Edward Albee's The Zoo Story and, um...)

Plus, there's that whole heady experience of knowing that the entire evening is devoted to your work.

Which is why I'm so thrilled that my first full-length play, The Butler Did It!, just won the Cheyenne Little Theatre's New Play Project. It'll get two staged readings this November in Cheyenne, Wyoming. As an aficionado of historic theaters, I'm especially pleased that they're mounting it in at the Atlas Theatre, a 125-year-old former vaudeville house in downtown Cheyenne.

The Butler Did It! is a comedy about a butler who gets falsely accused of murder and must find the real culprit while tied to a chair. It's the first mystery I've written, and it got a great reception at my regular writing group. But breaking up a play over five months of readings isn't the best way to judge its structure.

Mysteries are all about structure, of course. In fact, when I was writing The Butler Did It!, it felt like I was building one of those Jenga towers, each carefully placed plot element requiring yet another set-up or explanation or foreshadowing to make it fit. So I'm hoping that my reading up north will uncover any gaping plot holes I've been too blind to see.

I just hope no one gets hurt when it collapses.

Clothes make the play

Now I know my play is real. I just received the first cast shirt from my publisher.

What's in a name?

I got a call from my publisher today. They're busy trying to wrap up the edits on Long Tall Lester so they can get it into print in April.

They just had one problem. They didn't like the subtitle: The Orneriest Encyclopedia Salesman in the West.

I've got to admit, I never gave that part of it much thought.

I wanted some kind of subtitle, because I thought it added a nice period flavor, as in those old melodramas. And I thought the title I picked was funny and gave a pretty good picture of what the story was about.

But my editor said they didn't find Lester to be particularly ornery. And after a moment's thought, I had to agree with him. The whole point of the story is that Lester defeats the outlaw Billy Black through brains, not brawn. I guess I had always intended the subtitle to be ironic.

He gave me three alternatives, and also suggested I offer my own.

The three alternatives were: slickest, shrewdest, cleverest.

Think, Todd. Think. And fast. They're giving me first dibs, and if I don't respond quickly, like in an hour or so, I'll miss my chance. And rightfully so.

My mind went into hyperdrive. Lester is clever, but that doesn't really give any sense of conflict. It also doesn't roll trippingly off the tongue (of course, in that respect, orneriest was worse).

Slickest provides some nice alliteration. Slickest... enCyclopedia... Salesman. But, like orneriest, it doesn't really describe what he's like.

And shrewdest just make him sound like an evil banker.

So I decided to offer my own suggestion. Wiliest? No. Wisest? Yuck.

Quickest? Hmm, not bad. Wait. Not quickest. Fastest. As in Fastest Gun in the West. After all, Lester doesn't wield a gun. He wields an encyclopedia. And he unloads the five sets he brought with him pretty quickly.

So I sent them my suggestion: Long Tall Lester, or The Fastest Encyclopedia Salesman in the West.

They liked it. And that's the title you'll see it come out under in April.

I should be happy. It is a decent title.

So why does the same worrisome thought keep circling my mind?

Fastest? That's the best you could come up with?

Travails of a playwright

So last week I was all excited for my New York City debut as Thespian Production was getting ready to perform my 10-minute drama The Wanderer.  No longer would I be a mere playwright. I would be an off-off-Broadway playwright.

The debut would be completely vicarious. The Big Apple is a long (and expensive) way to go for a 10-minute play. And besides, the good folks in the theater company promised they would send me programs as well as any reviews or other feedback they received.

And so it was with bated breath that I clicked over to their website, hoping to see my the title of my play in the lineup, maybe even get a glimpse of the cast.

Well, the cast photos were all there. There was just one problem. None of those bright shining faces were from my play.

My breath bating even more, I checked the lineup. Nope, my play wasn't listed.

I clicked around the website. No mention of The Wanderer anywhere.

The truth was clear. Paul and his cantankerous father Edmund were never going to have that talk in the police station.

With calmer breath, I sent the organizer an email, asking what happened and whether they had plans to do my play at a later time.

I mean, I get it. This is show biz, folks. Budgets are cut. Seasons are rearranged. Directors bail.

But it would be nice if they told me. Here it is a week later and I still haven't heard a peep out of them.

And so on Sunday, I submitted that play to five more contests.

Maybe it won't ever get done in NYC. But it will get done, one way or another.