Blogging Bloodworks: When are you coming to shore?

It's not very hard to come up with an idea for a play.

1. You need to be a person of about my age who spent a lot of time in front of the television while this commercial was airing.

Who was this Awan Buhh, you must wonder, idly, while licking marshmallow fluff off of gummy fruit snacks. Will I ever learn about him, in school? (No.)

2. You need to be a person whose family goes on vacation to Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. Roughly once a year for most of your childhood. For many of these years you will stay in a house that has a framed map labeled GRAVEYARD OF THE ATLANTIC. Right next to the television, that map. You should probably also visit The Lost Colony. And love it.

3. You need to be a person who decides, one day, that she has a crush on Alexander Hamilton. You don't even need to know anything about the guy, just, in roughly the year 2000, when the $10 bill is finally switched to the large-portrait format, you need to notice that this Hamilton guy was kind of a fox.

4. You need to be a person who spots a flyer in your local public library that is advertising a Birthday Party for Alexander Hamilton. You need to be so stunned by the absolute perfection of this idea that you need to go to this Birthday Party, which in the year that you noticed this flyer is held at the Morris-Jumel Mansion in New York City. You will drag your friend to this party, and the two of you will marvel at such things as: the Alexander Hamilton historical re-enactor! The fact that the Morris-Jumel house even exists at all! The fact that the Morris-Jumel house was actually super-briefly the residence of Aaron Burr, the guy you are fairly sure was the guy who shot your historic crush object (cf. that Got Milk? commercial, right?).

5. You need to be a person whose friend alerts her to the fact that Aaron Burr had a daughter named Theodosia, who died mysteriously in a shipwreck. Your friend will email you about this and you will respond with ALL CAPS ENTHUSIASM. Within hours (hours; I have receipts) you will have purchased two books about Theodosia.

It is at this point that you will start to suspect that you have an idea for a play. But what. Is it. What...IS IT. Is it a play about Aaron Burr, or Theodosia Burr, Alexander Hamilton, or shipwrecks, or duels, or milk? Is it seriously maybe a play about milk? (Okay, it is not a play about milk.)

I knew for years that I wanted to write about Theodosia but I did not know exactly how. Maybe I could connect it to this thing, or this other thing, or this other thing, or...! Last summer I read two books at the same time, one of them was a biography of Aaron Burr and the other one was Moby-Dick. And if I learned anything from the first one it was that eventually everyone gets a sympathetic biographer and if I learned anything from the second one it was that you must be patient with your white whale. Chase at your peril. Eventually the damn thing will surface and then, oh then, you had better be ready.

This is a play about a woman who disappeared at sea. It's about making a new home for yourself, about what it means to live a great life, about what family requires, about love. There is some history in it, and some magic. It's been tough to write but I like that. I like a hard-fought. The play is still very much in progress and this reading is part of the writing. If you come on Wednesday, you are also a part of the writing.

Ashore
by Meghan Deans
Directed by Colette Robert

With Tina Benko, Megan Tusing, and Jonathan Silver
Plus Darcy Fowler on stage directions

Wednesday, May 30
9:00pm
Ensemble Studio Theatre
549 W. 52nd Street (btw. 10/11), 2nd Floor
$free

Strongly Recommended: That you arrive at 7pm to see Erica Saleh's The Morning After.

Oh -- so, THIS is Bloodworks. Cool!

Can I confess?  I've never done this before.  Not just Bloodworks, but written on a blog before.  Except for that interview.  But that was different.  And Tony was there for that one.  And Patrick ended up posting it because I couldn't figure it out.  But this is just me.  I'm a little out of my depth.  Does this look right?  Is anyone reading this? 

I'll try to keep this brief.  

This year was my first in Youngblood.  I had a lot of fun.  I made friends.  I went on 'retreats.'  I climbed thousands of stairs.  And I wrote a play.  Called Nights In Late December.  Which.  I don't know.  I'm not good with titles.  It kind of sounds like a Nicholas Sparks book, but.  Whatever.  I might change the title.  The point is -- oh, and I don't have the rights to the picture above.  So.  If you took it, I apologize.  I just thought it was a nice image.  I've spent many nights walking around the Central Park Reservoir, and.  Never mind. 

My play is being read next week.  On Tuesday May 22nd at 7pm, to be exact.   It's (for now) called Nights In Late December.  It's going to be in the 6th floor theater at EST (549 West 52nd Street).  My recommendation, if you'd like come, is to take the elevator when you get there.  It's one door over from the main entrance, and it's probably one of the coolest elevators in NYC.

ANYway, I have some really great actors reading.  Like, really great.  Cathy Curtin, Kristen Harlow & Jonathan Silver.  All of whom intimidate the hell out of me with their talents.  Which, I'm pretty sure, is a good thing.  Alec Strum is directing.  I've known Alec for almost eight years.  He's my flotation device.  And a good egg. 

The play is about a family.  As most plays seem to be.  But.  We all have one.  So.  Moving on, the play is about a family.  From the Upper West Side of Manhattan.  Mom and Dad have been divorced a number of years.  Big sister lives in San Francisco.  Little brother lives with Mom.  He spends a lot of time on the internet.  In fact, no one really talks to each other.  Except now it's Christmas.  And as per tradition, big sister is coming home.  But damn it, this year is gonna be different.  Because Dad wants to apologize.  But Mom and little brother would rather he go f*ck himself.  So big sister has to negotiate.  And appraise.  What reconciliation is even worth.  If it means drudging up their ugly past.

Should be about an hour long.  Which will be nice, I think.  Because that way we can all get a drink before Patrick Link's reading at 9.

Hope you can make it.   

(Deans, I did it!)

Headstrong: Is Strong

Have you seen Headstrong yet? People: you should see Headstrong. It's written by Patrick Link and directed by William Carden. It features the considerable talents of Ron Canada, Tim Cain, Alexander Gemignani, and Nedra McClyde. It is an exceptionally beautiful piece of theater, incredibly moving and smart and insightful.

It is also true. Now, Patrick Link always writes true, the man never met a truth he couldn't handle. But Headstrong reaches straight into a thing, a real thing that is happening right now, and lays it out for you to reckon with. It's the story of a man named Duncan Troy, a professional football player who dies under strange circumstances. His father-in-law--a former NFL linebacker--and his estranged wife are left to deal with the aftermath, aftermath that includes a visit from a man who wants permission to study Duncan's brain. Could it be that the game that they love, the game that has built the very house around them, could it be that that game killed Duncan Troy?

These are questions worth asking because these are questions that are real. Former NFL player Junior Seau died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound two weeks ago; his family is currently discussing whether or not to donate his brain for study. Seau's death has lit a debate that is captured excellently in Headstrong: should the game of football be blamed? And if it can be blamed, should it be changed?

The play has been extended through May 27; you can buy tickets here. PLUS: after the evening performance on Saturday, May 12 there will be a post-show discussion with Hall of Fame Linebacker Harry Carson; Forensic Pathologist/Neuropathologist/Epidemiologist & Clinical Professor of Pathology at University of California, Davis/the basis for a character in Headstrong Bennet Omalu; and news reporter Stone Phillips.

See this play. Bring your friends. There's something to be found, here.

Playwright Wanted, Clean and Considerate

So when you are a playwright and you want someone to give you money, like perhaps a theater, or a foundation, or a wealthy friend, you are asked to submit an artist statement with your application. Sometimes this is a free-form situation. "Tell us why you want this." Sometimes this is a little more specific. "Tell us why you want this, and also how you are planning to change the face of theater as we know it, and also about a time that a hat made you SO angry."

Of course this makes sense. They're not going to hand these things out to any old writer. You need to make a case for yourself, and aritst statements give you a chance to make that case. So I do not mind them, not really. But there have been many nights, many long dark cold cold nights, when I have stared at my computer screen thinking, I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to describe myself in a way that makes me seem smart and clever and talented and ambitious and humble and good-looking and fascinating and good to animals and and and and.

I mentioned my fear of artists statements to a friend who is preparing to apply to grad school (and therefore has many a personal statement in her future). She sympathized. "It would be great if it could be more like answering a Craigslist Ad for a new apartment," she said. "No pets, non-smoker, hard worker."

And she's right. Except in that case, the requests for proposals might start to look a little...

SUNNY LARGE CHEERY FELLOWSHIP IN MAJOR CITY

HIGH ARTISTIC CEILINGS
ALL NEW COMMISSION
NEWLY RENOVATED EXPECTATIONS
INCLUDES BRAGGING RIGHTS
L@@KS GREAT ON RESUME
PET FRIENDLY

NO CALLS

So maybe we're fine.

Neither So Long Ago Nor So Far Away

If you, like me, have ever been caught staring wide-eyed at the old promotional photos in the lobby of Ensemble Studio Theatre, then you, like me, will very much enjoy this archive of promotional photos courtesy of the Off Broadway Theatre Alliance. They've got one photo for each day of the year. Many of them are excellent. Marian Seldes! Stockard Channing and Jim Dale! Reed Birney! Swoosie Kurtz with some little punk named Robert Leonard!

Have fun.

Physics of a Pie-angle

1. Attend Death of American Centaur at Ars Nova featuring Youngblood luminary Alex Borinsky. 
2. Do not leave the theater when an actor announces that he will pay you back for your ticket if you’d prefer to take a walk outside.
3. Enjoy the scene where the company uses two whipped cream pies to induce tension into a heart to heart between Biff & Happy (seriously, the other brother in Death of a Salesman is named Happy?). Realize that every play could probably be better with two actors standing by with pies waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
4. At intermission, when the actors lay down a tarp and announce that the audience is welcome to pie actors or each other, turn to RJ Tolan and newly minted YBer Clare Barron and nod in unison. Attempt to convince Meghan Deans. Fail.
5. Clamber onto that tarp and stand in a rough triangle.

6. On the count of three, smash that pie into your assigned person’s face.

7. Realize that the whipped cream is actually shaving cream when you accidentally taste some.
8. Try to clean your face. Fail.
9. Turn back to see Meghan Deans from her pie-free seat in the audience with a Cheshire cat grin and an absurdly clean face.
10. Watch the rest of the play knowing that this evening was well worth that crumpled ten dollar bill.

Common Playwright Injuries

As you have no doubt heard by now, playwright and unemployed actor Aaron Sorkin recently broke his nose while writing. According to the Los Angeles Times, “Sorkin said he was working on a block of dialogue in the mirror when he accidentally head-butted himself.” Non-writers among you may scoff at this news—how could writing dialogue be so dangerous?—but nose-breaking is just the tip of the injury iceberg for playwrights.

1. Second Act Wrist. A stress injury that most often occurs in the days just after a playwright hears her work aloud for the first time and realizes she has a “second act problem.” Despondent, the playwright often copes by siting in a room, alone, muttering, her head buried in her hands, her weak wrists flexed beyond their usual capacity. This goes on for days. DAYS. Sometimes her wrists even snap clean right off. No kidding. I've seen it happen.

2. Nervous Hyperactorvention. In rehearsal, most playwrights are keen to give their director and their actors the space they need to do their jobs. But every so often, without warning, a case of Nervous Hyperactorvention strikes, and the playwright finds herself unable to shut the hell up. A playwright thus stricken may find herself giving line readings and suggesting that next time the director “read the [redacted] script before coming into the [redacted] room.” She may also drink all of the bottled water in sight.

3. Getting Punched In the Head. Both the cure for Hyperactorvention and an injury unto itself. Best treated with alcohol. Good thing you drank all that water!

4. La Emerging Writer Grippe. No doubt you recall Miss Adelaide’s Lament about how a single unmarried female, basically insecure, due to some long frustration may react with psychosomatic symptoms, difficult to ignore, affecting the upper respiratory tract? Replace “single unmarried female” with “anyone who’s been called an ‘emerging playwright’ for more than five years,” and you’ve got La E.W. Grippe. Keep a box of tissues handy.

5. Other People Paralysis. A sort of dead-eyed, frozen state, brought on by any number of things, like going to see the hot new play in town and realizing it contains an idea very similar to the one you’ve been working on; or like seeing a theater’s season announcement and realizing that your mortal enemy is getting produced yet again; or just by realizing, all of a sudden, how hard it is to write a play. Best treated by putting your head down and writing, dammit. Also maybe start some weight training for your wrists.

Blogging Bloodworks: Deans Edition

So I love cozy mysteries. The ones with near-puns in the titles, like, it'll be called MURDER TAKES A MOUTHFUL and the protaganist is a plucky young middle-aged woman who runs a bakery in a small town and someone she knows, a little distantly but she still has a connection to him, that person gets murdered and she accidentally on purpose solves the crime, bewildering the local sheriff who is also now in love with her. Did I say I love them? Maybe that's a strong word. I mostly love them. I love them when I'm burnt out and it's either, we're going to watch an entire season of America's Next Top Model or we're going to go outside and read something. These are the somethings I pick. A good cozy is wonderfully comforting, despite the murders.



When I started writing The Hooks, I thought I'd just write a cozy. I made a list of all of the things that my favorite cozies had in common. I wrote myself a plucky heroine, I gave her an oddball shop. I gave her a best friend. I gave her a mystery. I gave her someone to fall in love with. Then a weird kind of thing happened. I fell in love with getting my plucky young heroine to fall in love. Like, real deal. All of a sudden, The Hooks was also a love story.



'Cause that's the funny thing about cozies. Lots of them have romances. If it's a multi-book series, that's a thread for your reader, but also, if it's a multi-book series, things can't move too fast. So lots of those plucky heroines push back against the romance. I wanted to write into that instinct, the push-back instinct. I wanted to figure out why there might be more fear in love than there was fear in figuring out who'd stabbed whom. So I grabbed my magnifying glass and I called up my trusty sidekick and...no, no, I didn't. No magnifying glass. But I did write a play. And you can see a reading of it. Tonight! THE DETAILS ARE AS FOLLOWs!

A man is found dead in the local historical society, stabbed in the back with a(n historical) hook. The town's local sleuth is a little in love with the sheriff's lead suspect. And then there's this matter of some buried treasure...?

The Hooks is a love story, with murder.

Written by Meghan Deans
Directed by Dylan McCullough

With the considerable acting talents of Robert Askins, Pepper Binkley, Steven Boyer, Kristen Harlow, and Brian Morvant; plus the lovely Dana Chehansky on stage directions.

Monday, June 6th
8:30pm
New Location! IRT Theater
154 Christopher Street (at Washington)
3rd floor (buzzer 3B)
$Free

Fine, I'm Up

I've been putting in some long hours in front of the ol' scriptwriting box, and most of those long hours have been sitting, with horrible posture, either crunched in an IKEA chair (padding long gone) or slouched on my bed (laptop balanced on my cat). But then. THEN! I read Anna's post about how not to ruin my health with my art, and I got inspired to make myself a temporary standing desk.



Yeah that's right! I own a lot of cookbooks!

Here are some lessons I have learned from my standing desk experiment.

• This actually works. I hate standing so much that I super-focus on the writing, knowing that as soon as I hit my daily goals, I can go slouch somewhere. But not before.
  
• Speaking of daily goals, I wasn't really setting them BSD (Before Standing Desk). But now I am. Also sometimes if I'm really distractible, I do interval training: I set my cell phone timer (that's right, I also have a cell phone) to ten minutes. Then I write without stopping for ten minutes. When the timer goes off, I do something else for two minutes. I know I didn't invent this, but you know how when something works it totally feels like you invented it? Like blenders, or flying?
  
• My desk is really wobbly. I should probably get a new one. I think I inherited this from a roommate who moved out six years ago.
  
• Not only am I writing quicker at Standing Desk, I'm also getting more sleep. 'Cause of how I'm focusing, and also, 'cause of how I am giving myself hard stopping points. It turns out that walking away from something and returning to it fresh the next day is way better than binge-writing for 48 hours. Not that anyone here has ever done that.
  

IS THAT ENOUGH BRAGGING FOR YOU? Okay, good. I would recommend Standing Desk to anyone. Not sure that I'm ready to throw out my chair entirely, but it is no longer the boss of me.

Also I should clearly clean up my workstation. Ugh.

Brunch Blogging: Mary Anning Wasn't Humble on Purpose

I first read the name Mary Anning at the end of this marvelous cartoon by Kate Beaton (seriously, go read it, espesh if you saw Photograph 51 last fall!), where Kate laments that reading about awesome women of the past is awesome--until you realize that almost all of them got screwed in some hugely frustrating way (cf. also Kate's cartoon about Ada Lovelace). It's a pretty exhausting narrative, and it is often told exhaustingly. Look at this woman, who beat the odds! (And then, in smaller type:) But she never got any credit. Over and over, junior high textbooks straining to find role models for the modern girl. No, seriously, you can do science. Look at how well it went for Marie Curie. Wait, how did she die? DAMMIT!

Mary Anning fits right into the pantheon of depressing heroines. She lived in England during the early 19th century and was born into the family business of fossil hunting. As a kid she'd go out on the cliffs with her dad and her brother and they'd find small fossils to sell to tourists. Except then it turned out, Mary was really good at this. And not just good at finding little fossils. She was good at finding fossils that no one had ever seen before, and she was really good at constructing the skeletons. Should be famous scientist material, but because she was uneducated, and because she was of the lower class, and because her family needed to eat, she had to settle for selling her finds to wealthy gentlemen scientists, who would then publish on her findings.

What's unique about Mary is that she didn't have her work stolen from her, really. She sold it. But she didn't sell it out of ignorance, she sold it out of need. Her family was always in the hole. Once or twice, a prominent scientist in London would raise money and send it to the Annings, but fundraisers aren't sustainable, and so she struggled. And although Mary was proud of her work and the connections she made with those London scientists, eventually she came to resent them and the credit they received. She died young, at age 47, of breast cancer (after, it should be noted, twice before dodging death--she was almost hit by lightning as a baby, and nearly killed by an avalanche as an adult). Charles Dickens wrote a kind but vaguely patronizing magazine article about her, winding up with:

"Her history shows what humble people may do, if they have just purpose and courage enough, towards promoting the cause of science.... The carpenter's daughter has won a name for herself, and has deserved to win it."

You don't say.

Reading about Mary reminded me of some of our recent discussions here on the Youngblog, in particular, our discussions about privilege. Although I'm sure Dickens thought he was being a total mensch when he patted the late Mary's head for being humble, purposeful, and courageous, I couldn't help but think, okay. Then why'd she have to sell everything she worked for? All the time? Why did she only get credit as an afterthought? Oh, right. Privilege. A woman of lower class: damn, girl. You did good with nothing.

Ain't nothing wrong with being humble, purposeful, and courageous. Ain't nothing wrong with working your rear end off, either with your marathon Mat Smart days or however else it works for you. But it's all just treading water upstream if the system stays broken, and that's why we've been beating drums here on the Youngblog. Because all us Mary Annings in the world, we already plan on working. We already plan on getting up at the crack of dawn, to dig up fossils or write ten pages before we have to go to our survival jobs. So long as we're holding up our end of the bargain, I think it's only right we keep an eye on the other end.

Oh also, I wrote a play about Mary Anning, and it's called She Sells Seashells, because also did you know that tongue-twister is totally about her?, and it's in Youngblood's SCIENCE BRUNCH, and that is happening this Sunday, April 3rd. A brunch buffet, an open bar, and five awesome plays about the most sciencey things we could think of. Buy your tickets here. See you soon.

Fifteen Things I Learned On Youngblood's Winter Retreat

1. We have a healthy crock pot to group member ratio.

2. There is no wrong way to make a Hot Blooded, but the right way involves a lot of whipped cream. And booze.

3. There is something in the first aid kit that will hold your glasses together.

4. Yes, Mike Lew can jump from all the way up there without hurting himself.

5. Snowmen are easily anthropomorphized.

6. There are no losers in handstand contests, particularly if an anthropomorphized snowman is judging them.

7. We love real life entrance applause.

8. A monologue about kicking a small-statured individual can bring a room of playwrights to tears...of laughter.

9. Our group feedback is better than the feedback some jerk gave you two years ago or whatever.

10. John Guare is the best.

11. John Guare's play titles are the best.

12. "Fondue for two" is best when shared by about eleven people.

13. Playwrights are great storytellers and even better laughers.

14. People are not necessarily adverse to paying a clown ten thousand dollars per weekend, but they'll have to think more about what they'd like the clown to do to really earn that money.

15. You don't need sleep.

Being the Belarus Free Theatre

Hey Youngbloggers. This is going to get a little lengthy, and I hope you'll stick through it with me, but just in case you've got a scroll-happy finger, let me tell you this bit now: In support of and solidarity with Belarus Free Theatre, the Public Theater in partnership with Amnesty International will be holding a public demonstration on Wednesday, January 19th, at the Permanent Mission of the Republic of Belarus to the United Nations, at 136th East 67th Street. The protest will be held from 12pm to 1pm. Text the word "PROTEST" to 27138 to receive information and updates on the exact meeting location. For more information: the Public's Facebook Event; the Amnesty International event page, and Amnesty International's statement regarding post-election protesters in Belarus.

Now we'll talk about why, and how, and what else.

So here's the truth. I didn't know much about Belarus until a couple of weeks ago when my roommate and I were discussing which Under the Radar shows we were most excited about. She rattled off her list, enthusiasm for her New Year's resolution ("Spend all my money on theater.") radiating. Then: "...and Belarus Free Theatre. If they make it here."

Wait hang on. If?

Belarus Free Theatre is a theatre company whose work puts them in danger. They write and perform plays that are often openly political, and they do so in a country whose government favors censorship and violence over open dialogues. As Laura Wade noted in The Guardian's Theatre Blog last month, Belarus Free Theatre is underground "...not because it's cool and edgy, but because Belarus is a dictatorship, and any opposition...can be swiftly and harshly silenced." They must perform in secret, and, according to The New York Times, the Belarusian government--and the KGB, still an active presence in the country--has threatened and intimidated the company and those associated with them.

On December 19th and 20th, protesters gathered in Minsk to protest the announced (and suspect) re-election of Aleksandr Lukashenko, who has been in power since 1994. The protest was violently broken up, and opposition candidates were arrested. Two members of Belarus Free Theatre were also arrested, while the rest went into hiding. The company escaped "in small groups, and not in an official fashion," arriving in New York on January 2nd. In this video, shot the day after her arrival in the United States, company co-founder Natalia Kolyada describes the dangers the troupe has faced--and what they still face--all for creating theater. Three days after their escape, The Belarus Free Theatre opened Being Harold Pinter at the Under the Radar festival.

My affection for Pinter and his smoking hot political activism have been well-documented here on the Youngblog. Being Harold Pinter combines pieces of that Nobel lecture with scenes from several Pinter plays and letters written by Belarusian political prisoners. Last Sunday--just one week after Belarus Free Theatre's arrival in the United States, just three weeks after they had been forced underground in their home country--I saw the company perform Pinter in a way I never thought I'd see Pinter performed. I thought I knew all sorts of things about The Homecoming--I've read or seen it dozens of times--but never before had the violence inside of it seemed so fresh and immediate. It wasn't just the story of a family violated, it was the story of minute-to-minute anger, fear, mistrust.

What Pinter does best is keep you in the present, at all times engaged in what's in the room at that moment. What the Belarus Free Theatre did was ratchet up the repercussions. Raise the stakes, but really. I was in the room with the play. I was in the room with the people performing the play. The play was real. Everything was happening, and the distance between me and them felt small, alarming, or nonexistent. The imagery was simply and strongly. The performances were passionate. By the time the play had moved on to Pinter's later, more overtly allegorical pieces, I felt engaged to a point of responsibility.

And that's so good. So rare, and so good. Remember up top when I told you a few weeks ago I didn't know much about Belarus? Well guess what. That's super-different, now. I've done my homework, and it's all thanks to a show I saw. Belarus Free Theatre makes art that seeks to inform within their country, but beyond it, as well. I know I'm preaching to the choir here when I say these things, but even the choir needs to hear it sometimes: theater can move people to action in a way that no other art form can. Theater can take place so near to you that you can have your hand stamped by it on the way in. So close that you can sit in the front row squinting at the faces of the actors in front of you, wondering about the provenance of their scratches and scrapes. So close that you can see the strength of it backed immediately by the fragility of it.

What can we do? As theater artists, patrons, just folks. Well, first, the good news is that what's gone on with Belarus Free Theatre has inspired action. In addition to Wednesday's protest, the Public Theater is holiding a benefit performance for the troupe, and accepting donations on their behalf. In her video statement, Natalia Kolyada puts bluntly the power that those of us in democratic states have. "Only when you speak, the governments could make changes to our country. Only when you speak to your governments, your governments could make a pressure on Belarusian government to release all people who are now in jail in Belarus. Just speak." So do that. Ever write to your Senators? It's super easy. Here's a-sortable-by-state contact list. For those of us in New York, you can contact Senator Gillibrand here, and you can contact Senator Schumer here. If you'd rather send it by post, here's how to do that. Read through the Amnesty International press release and ask your senators to lend their support to the Belarusian prisoners of conscience. 'Cause I know you theater folks, and I know there's one thing you do great, and that's talk. Now, let's make sure your talk gets heard.

Thanks, and thanks for listening.

New Year's Resolutions For the Playwright

Dear Myself,

Yeah, yeah, I know. Resolutions are for chumps. But let me tell you something: so too is going into a new year completely unprepared. Especially this one. "2011." See, I got a look at the guy, in a Preview Issue? And I'll tell you what, 2011 may look to you currently like a wide-eyed babe in a cunning party hat, but oh no. He's got plans, plans you're not gonna see comin'. Fortunately for you, me, us, whatever: I learned a few things here in 2010, and with these things thus learned, we're gonna make a few resolutions. Now sit still, it'll be all right. I'm a professional resolver.



1. Be not bitter. Look, it's hard. Theater has currently a narrow-feeling playing field with a very few resources, and so, the successes of our peers can feel like judgments against us. SHE got this thing why did SHE get that thing certainly I could have got that THING but maybe I didn't know the right PEOPLE or go to the right SCHOOL or go to SCHOOL AT ALL plus HAVE YOU NOT NOTICED I HAVE BETTER HAIR etc etc. But I'll tell you, nothing is uglier than a chorus of brilliant people wallowing in mean-spirited, cold-hearted disengagement. Blowing off steam is one thing, but the tone I've heard you take -- ! So fight the fights, certainly, drum up the awarenesses. But fight the battles of class with class, learn how not to self-defeat in your defeat, and for heaven's sake, do not delight in the failure of others. Find something to love instead.

2. Find something to love. Oh, hello! I didn't see you there. I know you love plenty already, but really. Really, this year, chase down an obsession (or two). Fill up books and pages with it. Research it, talk about it, learn about it, live it. Maybe it's a band, a genre, a language, a plant, a person, a philosophy. Watch what it wakes in you. Then write that down. 'Cause not to sound like a damn hippie, but that's kind of the point, you dunce.

(Sing this to yourself if it helps. Someday you're gonna be free, Lord.)

3. Write. Don't give me that face. Write. Under any and all circumstances. However you need to, with and without restriction. Start things. Finish things. Feel the fear and then jam a fist in its face. SOON THE FEAR WILL FEAR YOU.

Also keep giving yourself these pep talks, they are hilarious. Jam a fist, that's a good one, is that some fancy new slang?

4. Be there. It means something to people when you support them. Go see their shows, readings, puppet shows, pantomimes. Dance, after; drink, after. Feedback, sure, if they want it, but being present! Rising the tide that floats all our ships. Don't think you can't go because you never know what to say after. Being there is part of the faith we all share that what we're doing is a thing worth doing, and, look. Faith is a hell of a thing to have when trying to act on all of these other high-minded resolutions.

5. Speaking of ships: acquire, by any means necessary, a Youngblood Ship. For real this time. Something along the lines of a beautifully restored 1920s steam ship with jet skis and a grand piano and a lavishly-appointed dining room. Then commence sailing around the world, bringing theater and cocktails to all. Ahoy!

Unbelievably Great The Theater-Related Halloween Costumes

If there's one thing I know for sure, it's that Halloween happens every year! And usually in October, which is now. Have you picked out a costume yet? DEAR GOD YOU SERIOUSLY HAVEN'T? Ohhhhh, this is bad. This is really, really bad. I mean, you've got to figure it out, and you've got to figure it out now, right? But what costume will truly demonstrate to your loved ones/crush objects that you are a creative, sexy, fun-loving individual who possesses an unwavering, foolish love of THE THEATER? WHAT. COSTUME. WILL DO THIS.

It's okay. I'm here to help.

TOP FOUR AMAZING IDEAS FOR THE THEATER-RELATED COSTUMES
a list

1. A REVIVAL. Dress in recent vintage, get a rich date, and act defensive all the time. Be prepared to hang out with a movie star who you liked a little bit when you were 12 but now find vaguely suspicious.*

2. THE FIRST PLAY EVERYONE EVER WROTE. A great choice for someone who wants to keep the "creepy" in Hallocreepyween. First, dress yourself in the scent of cheap beer and sophomore year all-nighters. Sprinkle a'top your head the magic fairy dust of not yet having your heart truly broken, but being fairly confident you can fake it. For the first half of the night, speak like a David Mamet character. For the second half of the night, speak like a David Mamet character who's realized he doesn't know as many swear words as he originally thought and how is this supposed to stay fresh ugggggggggh writing is haaaaard. PS this costume works best if you can get a friend to dress up as a prostitute. All night, offer her cigarettes while delivering lengthy monologues in her direction. Under no circumstances should you let her speak, think, or feel.

3. SHAKESPEARE. Did you know that no one knows anything about Shakespeare? This is true. You can look this up. All biographies of Shakespeare are written in the conditional, and all of his "plays" are written in a language that even our finest modern translators and cryptologists have not yet cracked. Some scholars believe that Shakespeare invented polio, while others believe that he hasn't even been born yet. Tough luck for people who like a concrete truth, but a real opportunity for the last-minute costumee. My recommendation: throw on a dinosaur costume, put a doily around your neck, and yell "AVAST YE THRICE WTICHES!" all night. Who's gonna know the difference? NO ONE.

4. SEXY YOUNGBLOOD BRUNCH. For the cutting-edge among you! Put on your tiniest pair of pancakes, your itty-bittiest bacon (for vegetarians: muffins will do), and your mostest charming (but lowest-cut!) production values. Write an amazing play that lazily, heavily-liddedly caresses a theme. At the party, turn off your cellular telephone, acknowledge the fire exits, and get drunk immediately.

So there you have it, four amazing ideas for four amazing theater-related costumes for your amazing theater-related life. If you have any other amazing ideas for theater-related costumes, please put them in the comments! If you don't, I am sad for you.

With fun-sized love,
Meghan Deans



* This idea was nominated for October's "Cheap Shot of the Blog" Award! It didn't win, though. Sucks.

Blogging Bloodworks: Deans Edition

My Bloodworks play is called Internet Famous. Guess what! It is about the Internet. This is good for you, because probably you know something about the Internet, because you are on the Internet right now. Unless someone has printed this post out for you. Or unless it is the future and the Internet is obsolete and you are not even reading this, it's just so far in the future that you're just licking this up with your mind-tongue.

Gross. What the hell is a mind-tongue. Also what were we talking about?

So it's about the Internet, but more specifically it's about people who write and share fanfic on the Internet. What is fanfic! You might ask, and I would say, you know how sometimes you have a favorite television show and something happens on it and YOU HATE IT or you love it but you think it would be better if more of the characters were making out? Fanfic is the place to do that. Though fanfic existed pre-Internet, the Internet has given people a place to quickly share work and to form tightly-knit communities. These communities can be wonderful, supportive, creative places. They can also be mean, nasty places, full of politics and dramatic social stratifications. Sounds like a good thing to write a play about, right guys? RIGHT?



I've been in and around my share of Internet-based fan communities -- pro tip: call 'em "fandoms"! -- for about half my life. As a li'l Meghan, I was a devoted X-Files fan. My nerdery found a home at alt.tv.x-files, a Usenet newsgroup where folks shouted at each other about whether or not Mulder was really dead this time. (He never was.) I made friends, learned life lessons ("RTFM" has served me well in office culture), and yeah: I wrote some fanfic. Just a little. The first fic I wrote was a really terrible X-Files/ER crossover that got kinda meta at the end, with David Duchovny waking up from a near-death experience as Mulder at County General...only to find that he's at a charity softball match and he passed out after Noah Wyle hit him on the head with a softball! I don't think on purpose. But if there's enough demand maybe I could write a sequel.



"Imagine. Going through your whole life looking like that."

Anyway, most fanfic is better than mine was. Some of it is even really good, and very little of it involves Noah Wyle (sorry Noah. get yourself a cult scifi series and we'll talk.). And while it's still trendy to portray fandom communities as being full of headcases and nutjobs, a lot of completely sane, brilliant people participate in fandom. Also, a lot of headcases and nutjobs participate in fandom. Internet Famous is about the brilliant ones, and also it is about the nutjobs, and it is most of all what happens when they all get together in a room and drink.

I hope you come see it. I'd like that a lot. Here are some details.

Internet Famous
a reading of a play
by Meghan Deans

Directed by Ashley Kelly-Tata
Featuring Kate Hamill, Kristen Harlow, Polly Lee, and also more folks.

Friday, June 11th
7pm
Schaeberle Studio Theater @ Pace University
41 Park Row, 10th Floor
$0.00

sub-Urban Dictionary

Technology is great, right? Except when it's terrible. But sometimes it's great. Like for instance, spell-check. A thing that is great, except when it's terrible, like when it tricks you into thinking you have a flawless draft when in fact you have a draft full of homonyms and misplaced character names. Naturally I always proofread everything I send out, I mean, really carefully, but for some reason I am mostly a terrible proofreader, except for a brief period of time that begins a half hour after I have mailed my submissions, a period during which I frantically read through the draft I just sent and suddenly locate every single one of its errors and a sad trombone plays wah-wah.

Anyway, a thing I do very much like about spell-check is the bit where you build your own dictionary. Just like the pioneers! You tell your spell-check machine to learn the words that you create/mildly misspell, and from then on it thinks those words are actual words! Even when they are not! And sometimes when they are! A writer's spell-check dictionary is a personal and precious object, which is why I am going to share with you a few selections from mine. I think you will agree that it reveals a rich artistic life.

• ahh
• Ahhhhh
• Apocalypsey
• bro-ham
• defeatarian
• Glenlivet
• Marx
• obvi
  
• teleporter
  
• Voldemort
• woooooooooo

I know, and I'm all, when is the Morgan Library gonna call me already? Sheeeeeeesh. PS I am not spell-checking this post.