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!)

New Member Interviews: Willie Orbison interviews Tony Meneses

So Tony, where were you born?
Guadalajara, Mexico. Which if you’re now wondering if I’m legal, the answer is yes.

What was your childhood like?
I’m the baby in my family by a pretty decent gap, so I remember craning my neck back a lot to look up at everyone. To this day, I still don’t know what to do around people shorter than me.

What made you want to pursue playwriting?
I started to notice I liked storytelling in general when I was still playing with toys up to an age that by all accounts would be embarrassing. Once I Toy Story 3’d my childhood, I turned to the page.

What is your workspace like?
I write on the floor actually, and have for a while, which I think has affected how I sit in chairs now. Doesn’t feel right anymore.

What distinguishes a play by Tony Meneses?
I’m actively trying to get the audience to care more. I am interested in stories, with people and realities sometimes unlike our own, that still get the audience to connect to and see themselves in. This can sometimes veer toward the sentimental, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with showing people a humanity worth caring about. Maybe it can then translate into how we move through the world and how we treat others.

Who are your heroes, theatrical or otherwise?
Love me some Thornton Wilder, Caryl Churchill, and Samuel Beckett. Add Virginia Woolf, James Joyce, and Gabriel Garcia Marquez to that literary mix, and we got a party. A special shout out to Oni Faida Lampley for gifting me the most moving experience I’ve ever had at the theatre.

What turns you on/off about theater?
Here are some of my loves: suspension of disbelief, plays with big ambitions, ensemble writing, diversity on stage (preferably a healthy mix of all kinds of identities.)

Bored with: the opposite of what I just listed.

What would your middle school self say about you?
“I see you haven’t gained any weight...”

Where do see yourself in ten years?
I really don’t make long-term plans for fear of mighty hubris striking me down. Ideally though, I’d like to be more stable economically, teaching, writing. Two or three kids would be nice.

If the apocalypse was tomorrow, what would you do tonight?
Dance party.

What are you working on now?
I spent Halloween weekend this year writing a ghost story. Next on the horizon is reading a lot in preparation for a play that I know now is going to require time and thoughtful crafting. Trying to do some homework before and cultivate and broaden my own sense of what literature and theatre could be.

Anything else you want to mention?
A plug of sorts. I have a play being produced through the DCA in Chicago this Spring. Should be a good time. Here’s some info.

New Member Interviews: Willie Orbison

Why 'Willie' and not William, Will, Bill, or Billy?

It's always been Willie. I mean, legally, it's William, but it's always been Willie. I.E. not Y. I remember my parents were adamant about that when I was younger. Don't know why. I tried 'Will' at a summer abroad program once in high school but that made me feel like an asshole. So, I have a feeling it's going to be Willie forever. Which is kind of unfortunate because, to be completely honest, I'm not crazy about the name. I actually tend to mumble it when I say it out loud and people think my name is 'Louie.' Which I like better, but I don't think I'm earthy enough to pull it off.

How does a new play usually start for you? An image? A concept? A title?

Honestly, new plays usually start for me with a bad mood. I'll find myself feeling crappy about something in my life, I won't know what to do about it, and that's where a play will start. Or at least those are the times when I'm like 'Fuck, why aren't I writing something right now.' And then a play will start, and whatever malaisey things are trailing me around will, hopefully, get worked out in the writing. But in terms of getting a draft together, I do find myself working towards, or off of, a theatrical moment that I can see quite clearly in my head before any words are on the page. But titles, as a rule, always come last.

Have you ever written someone in your life into a character in one of your plays? If so, who?

All the time. Not like people's identities, but speech patterns, characteristics, stories, definitely. I think you have to. I went to a talk that John Guare was giving once, and he said something like 'playwrights are scavengers.' That stuck with me. Like squirrels. But yeah, if something about somebody strikes me, I'll try to make a little mental note, and hopefully it will stick long enough to find its way into my writing. I have zero qualms about that.

What is the quickest amount of time you've written a play in? The longest?

I'm slow, Tony. Painfully slow. The quickest I've written a play, other than some I've done for 24-hour festivals, is probably like a month. I have serious issues bringing myself to that blank page sometimes. I wish I could bang em out like Adam Rapp -- or you, Mr. Halloween Weekend -- but no, I am the tortoise, Tony. I am the tortoise. So, the longest it's taken me? Sheeit, I'm coming up on two years now for one of them. But, to be fair, I've never had a full-on production or had anything published, so I'm still writing every play I've ever written -- right?

When is the best time of day for your writing?

10pm to 4am, no question. I've had trouble getting to sleep all my life.

Do you have any recurring dreams?

Ironically, when I do sleep, yes. Two. And I've been having them as long as I can remember. The first is about three hamsters -- one holstein spotted, one tawny, and one without any hair -- who live on the rim of a washing machine. Without getting super Jungian about it, I have a feeling it has something to do with me and my two brothers. I don't know exactly what it means; however, I'm pretty sure I'm the one without any hair. The second dream is an anxiety dream I tend to get when the going gets tough in my awake life, and it's always this: I'm about to play my first game at second base for the Yankees, and we're about to go out on the field, but I can't find my glove. I'll be freaking out and freaking out, and then someone will lend me a glove and I'll go out on the field. Then -- and I think this has to do with a particularly scarring error I made when I was actually playing baseball -- someone on the other team will hit a high pop-up to me, and whatever I try to do, I can't catch the ball. Sometimes my legs will sink into the dirt and sometimes the ball never falls out of the sky, but I'll never catch that f'ing pop up. And I'll wake up tangled in sheets.

What movie do you find yourself quoting a lot?

I was a misguided adolescent. I thought it was 'cool' to be able to quote movies in regular conversation. In fact, for a while in middle school, this was the primary source of my sense of humor. So, there are a number of movies I have committed to memory, and, for reasons totally beyond my control, might still be heard quoting from time to time. Among them, The Sandlot, Sgt. Bilko (the Steve Martin one), and, of course (forgive me) The Big Lebowski.

What play did you read and hate in high school but love now?

I'm embarrassed about this, but Waiting For Godot. People would make fun of it for being so boring and about nothing, so I jumped on the bandwagon (again, misguided adolescence). But now, I'm happy to say, I fully appreciate its genius.

What is the most embarrassing song in your itunes?

Probably something by The String Cheese Incident. Shoot me.

What is the last stupid thing you've done?

The last stupid thing. Hmm, so much to choose from. Perhaps having that punch at the Asking for Trouble closing night party. I was, indeed, Asking for ... well, you know.

Besides New York, any other geographies calling your name at some point?

Yes. Always. I have a tendency to over-sentimentalize things, so most of my fondest memories are tied to a certain geography -- the Green Mountains in Vermont, farms and vineyards in Sonoma County, beaches up and down the Eastern Seaboard, Caribbean islands, freaking all of Paris, and those places call to me. And then there are places I haven't even been yet that I know I have to visit, like India, Japan, Spain, Vietnam, Peru, Argentina, China, the Philippines, New Zealand -- my grandmother, who's somewhat of a spirit guide for me, travelled all over the world and always stresses the importance of seeing new places and new people, so it's definitely a life goal for me to see the world. But, it's funny, having grown up in New York City, whenever I leave for an extended period of time, I start to miss the subway.

Are there any recurring ideas or themes in your work?

Someone once said any writer worth their salt is always in some way writing about love and death. I think that's true for me, too. Not that I'm worth all that much salt, but when I sit down to write something, I do feel a sense of existential urgency that nudges me toward tackling the big stuff. It's the 'if I was hit by a bus tomorrow, would I be proud of what I was working on' question. And, for me at least, I would want to be, in my way, swinging for the fences. Life is short, Tony. Shit happens, as my grandfather used to say, and I don't want to be caught with my proverbial pants around my ankles, putting the finishing touches on some half-hearted story that doesn't really move me. That's not to say every play needs to be Hedda fucking Gabler, but I truly believe that my task as a playwright is to add my little vision of existence to the pile before time runs out. And the way I see it, the way we understand love and the way we understand death has a profound effect on every single impulse we have as people walking around from day to day. So, when I'm writing a play, when I'm thinking about characters and what they want and why they want it and the way they interact with the world around them, yeah -- for me, it all boils down to love and death. I mean, when you think about it, what else is there, really?