Everything is Nothing and Nothing is Everything

So this past week has been hard. I’ve been mute about the whole thing for a number of reasons; I thought I was crazy, egotistical, unfair, heterophobic and maybe just wrong. I got served on every level and it led to question everything—my career, my being in Los Angeles, and what I have always wanted.

It started with 24-hour theatre. Nothing grand, overwhelming or even important really. Just the task of writing a simple ten-minute piece with a theme and so with all the elements in place I set out to get it done. I thought nothing of it. But I had a goal—to write something as emotional and riveting as the best piece from the last show. So I asked Ruby for some tips and set off to write a simple 3-character piece.

And the 1st draft bombed. It wasn’t as drastic as all that—there were elements that were good and surprising. I sent it off to Kirby and waited for her thoughts, her notes. What came back was very hard to take; that characters were either unimportant or very unlikable. We talked it to death, so much so that it made me question whether or not we could be writing partners. But we worked through the tension.

A second draft was made and sent off with better pacing—I brought a great book on writing and really studied the notes not only from Kirby but her friend Fred, a theatre director studying up the coast. Feeling like so much was better, I just waited to hear back from my producer.

I was asked again to cut the piece—get rid of a character I liked, make certain elements less heavy handed and just trim a few pages. It was tough to do; I liked the third character and some of the details that I believed were important. But I did as asked and turned it in. Nothing came back to me and it went into rehearsal so I thought it was good. It was done.

But then I went out to coffee with Ruby and discussed some of the show details. I usually work behind the scenes the night of the show—taking tickets and running lights. After a bit we came to my piece and it was discussed in more detail. Changes were asked for, flaws pointed out and I left the meeting feeling as though I failed.

Kirby and I talked for a bit on the phone and I went into to specifics about how untalented I felt and how hard I tried to make the script good. It got to the point where I questioned whether I should be writing—at least plays or film. I cried my way through a bottle of rum and just about gave up.

So going into the show I was feeling stressed—not just because I felt I failed as a writer but also caught up in the behind the scene tasks at hand. I was a scary, crazy bitch that night—people tended to run away from me. I just didn’t want to see it go wrong in person.

The piece itself went well and was quite surprising. I liked portions of it very much and saw some elements that I didn’t know were there. People that came—like Kelly, Lizzie and Patty—seemed to like it and the actors and director were very nice and talked about how much they enjoyed it. In some ways it helped me believe in myself again. Though I still have plenty of questions.